MARRIAGE PLANS by Throne (43 Pages) (Patreon)

MARRIAGE PLANS

by Throne

© 2019-2021 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

***DEVIN DICKIE NOTE***
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.

Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.

MARRIAGE PLANS

by Throne

"But sweetie," I said, "that seems awfully unreasonable."

My bride-to-be, Astrid, gave a toss of her long blond hair. Then she fixed me with a withering stare that said I had given her the wrong response. I sat there, with her standing in front of me, looking down. She is slender but very busty. I mean, supersized, in the boob department. I've always loved big breasts, so her mammary assets, combined with a sweet face and pert ass, had me under a spell.

"All right," I said with a sigh. "We can try your plan. I guess it will have, I don't know, some advantages."

"It will have a lot of advantages. I deeply resent your new attitude. Just because we're engaged, it doesn't mean you can have your hands all over me."

She drew back her shoulders, thrusting her impressive bust out further. The tight sweater she had on, obviously with no bra underneath, made the effect even more pronounced. I sat there with that gorgeous set of tits looming over me. How I longed to finally touch them. Instead, she had come up with the idea of having me move out of our apartment and room with some guy she knew. Astrid said it was so she could remain pure until we were wed. She was very definite about it. What else could I do? I've never been assertive. When you're much shorter than average, with a slim build and soft features, you don't exactly become the cock of the walk.

"Just pack a few things," she told me. "Oh, and have your trust fund checks direct-deposited to our joint account. And just close that old, separate one. This way we won't have to deal with so many bank statements."

"What? I'd really rather not, because..."

"Listen. I don't want you taking all that money and partying behind my back. It's only six weeks until our wedding and I won't let you ruin everything now."

"But I already let you put my savings into our new joint account. Have you gotten that straightened out yet? Since it got messed up and my name wasn't included, I can't even touch my own money."

She shrugged. "I don't know how that happened. It's not as if I told them to do it that way. You need to show some trust. What's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine. Don't you want to get married?"

"Of course, I do." Did I sound as desperate as I was?

"I mean, it's not as if you could just go out and get any girl who's available. You haven't exactly had much luck in the relationship department."

"I know." It had been unwise to let her know what a flop I was with women.

"At least now you'll have a chance to lose your virginity."

Accidently revealing my celibate state had been a huge mistake. To try to smooth things over I said, "I'm really looking forward to that."

"See? There you go again. You've got a terrible case of sex-on-the-brain, Melvin."

"I'm sorry," I apologized in defeat. "I'll go and stay with this guy Craig for a month and a half."

"It's not Craig," she corrected. "His name is Crank. And I hope you won't tease him about that. He's very sensitive."

"I won't." Had I ever done that to anyone? No. I was always on the receiving end of taunts.

"That's better." She held out her hands. I stood and she wrapped her arms around me, then rested her chin on the top of my longish auburn hair. Her huge bosom was right there, below my face. So near and yet so far away. If only I could touch those magnificent boobs, kiss them, bury my nose and mouth between them. "Now remember, don't waste time packing a lot. If you need more clothes, I'll bring them to you."

"All right," I said. There was no fight left in me. Not that there had been much to begin with.

As she stepped back, I tried to turn away. She grabbed my shoulders and held me where I was. Gazing down, she saw that I had an erection. Not that there was much to see. My poor little penis, which would have been more appropriate on a pre-adolescent, made just the slightest bump in my pants. She shook her head in disgust.

"Like I said, Melvin, you are a total sex maniac."

I filled a small bag. She went through it and took out the two books I had included, saying that I'd never get to be friends with my roomie if I was reading all the time. Then she checked my wallet and took my charge cards, saying she didn't want me to go on a spending spree. How could I do that, when I no longer had

access to my accounts, which would allow me to pay the next month's bill? At least I had some cash. She also took my keys. Astrid gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead and sent me on my way. To save money, I took a bus. As per her instructions, I stopped at the bank and arranged for the sizable deposits from my trust fund to go directly to the joint account that wasn't so joint. Then I took another bus to get me to Craig's -- or rather, Crank's -- neighborhood. I was appalled to discover that it was downscale, to say the least. There were all these Black people on the streets. Why had my fiancé's oddly named friend chosen to live here?

When I got to his building, there were a half dozen tough looking, dark-skinned guys sitting on the steps, blocking my path. I stood there, expecting them to move. When that didn't happen, I made a throat-clearing sound.

"Excuse me," I said to the nearest one, who wore a muscle shirt and cargo shorts. He had short hair and a trimmed drooping mustache. "I need to get inside. Please."

Instead of making room for me to pass, he said, rather aggressively, "What's your name, girl?"

"Oh, I'm not a girl," I assured him with a friendly smile. "Then how come you look like one? And got that pretty bag?"

"Oh." I held up my little suitcase. "You must mean the pattern. That's a tartan plaid. It has an interesting history and..."

That was as far as I got before he slapped the bag hard, nearly knocking it from my grasp. "I said what's your name, bitch boy?"

"I'm, um, Melvin."

"Well, Melina, you're asking to use my steps."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you owned this property."

"I don't own the freaking building. I just own the steps. When I'm here, I own them."

His five compatriots muttered agreement. I said, "I'm sorry. Well, Mr. ummm..."

Instead of furnishing his surname, he growled, "My name is Jax. That okay with you, Melina?"

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Jax. Or just Jax, if you prefer. It's only that I'm here to see Crank and..."

"Whoa," he said, raising a silencing hand. "You here to see the man?"

"Well, yes."

"Why the freak didn't you say so?" He got out of the way and the others did the same. "Go on up."

"Thank you. Yes. I appreciate that. Sorry for any misunderstanding on my part."

I entered the building. It was warm and smelled musty. I ascended the steps to Apartment 2-B, then knocked uncertainly on the door. It would be good to meet Astrid's friend and maybe talk about her. Perhaps he could give me some clues as to how I could better please her. The door opened and I found myself confronted by a towering, sturdily-built, and obviously very powerful man, who was Black. He had hard eyes and there was a patch of beard under his thick lips. All he had on were boxer shorts. There was something in his mouth that he chewed and swallowed. From a bottle of beer in his big hand, he took a long drink.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I must have the wrong unit. I'm looking for a gentleman named Crank and..."

"That's me." He scratched his belly, belched, and turned around. Over his shoulder he said, "Come on in."

"Sure. Right. I'm Melvin. It was the funniest thing, but some young men on the front steps thought I said my name was Melina."

"It should be, with that fag look you got. You marrying Astrid?" "Yes. In just six short weeks."
He said, "That girl crazy."

At that point I considered leaving. Then I remembered my girlfriend's made-up mind. And my lack of funds. Plus, the part of the city I was in, with the sun going down. I patted my bag.

"Guess I'll get unpacked." "Yeah. You want a beer?" "No thank you."
"Got some beer money?"

"What? If I'm not drinking, I don't see why you'd expect me to..." His stony expression silenced me. I took out all the bills from my wallet and stood there holding them. He snatched everything from my hand, rather than taking only what he required.

"That'll do. I'll call for the liquor store to bring it around." "Okay. But that's all the money I have and... and..."

Crank snarled. He wasn't being reasonable. Still, I didn't want to get off on the wrong foot. I held out my empty hands in a peacemaking gesture.

"Our room is in there," he said, pointing to a closed door. "Um, how do you mean, OUR room?"

"Hey, boy. You in the hood now. This ain't no luxury apartment, like I figure you're used to."

"Well, okay. Could you please show me where to put my things?"

"Yeah, sure." Crank held tightly onto the money. I followed my roomie through the door. There was a beat-up dresser and one bed. "But how are we going to sleep?" I wanted to know.

"Me on one side and you on the other. "I hope you don't mind; around here we sleep in the altogether."

"You mean... naked?"

"Damn straight. But you don't look too damn straight yourself. So, tell me, Melina. You one of them spoiled rich kids who's into guys? You know. Like you hide it all the time, but underneath, you're always sniffing around for a big stiff cock. Huh? You one of them?"

"What? No! I'm not gay."

"Maybe I ought to test you."

In one quick motion, Crank pulled his boxers down to mid-thigh. I goggled at what I saw. The man's penis was enormous. It hung there like some sort of primitive war club, nearly a foot long, very thick, with a heavy knob. All I could do was gape at it, with my mouth hanging open.

Crank concluded, "Yeah, you one of those. I know that look. Be a good snowflake and maybe you'll get some of what you been wanting."

"No, honestly, I'm not a homosexual. I swear."
"You a big hit with the girls?"
"Well," I said with some pride. "I'm engaged to Astrid." "Get busy with her much?"
"What?"
The Black man cursed. "Like, so you take her to bed a lot?"

"Oh, that. We've had some cuddle sessions recently. But she felt I got too aggressive, so she wants to save the s-e-x until we're man and wife."

"You saying no nookie?"

"If you mean no intercourse, then yes. But mainly because I was too, well, macho about it."

"For sure, you a macho man. Like in the song. We talk more about it later, Melina. Right now, I got to order that booze and make some calls. There's gone to be a party here later. I know you're cool with that."

"I'm... agreeable?... to you having a party in the apartment." I considered Crank's superior size and strength, along with the circumstances of Astrid sending me there, and decided that

accommodation was the greater part of self-preservation. "Sure. I'm certain it will be a fine party."

"Yeah. What you said. And you can put your shit in the bottom of the closet over there. On the floor."

With that, Crank turned and left the room. For long moments, I just stood there. Finally, I placed my bag atop the rumpled covers on the bed, opened it, and took my neatly folded clothes to the closet. There were plenty of Crank's shirts and jackets hanging there, but also room for more to join them. But if he didn't want me to put anything up there, that would have to be okay. As I gently deposited my articles on the dusty floor, I was glad that Crank would be busy with his pals and gals at their get-together. All that talk about my sexual orientation had been unnerving. Still, I would work on clarifying the issue in the morning. It reminded me of those lines of poetry I liked to remember, "With the dawn comes a bright new day, and a chance to start anew, in many a way."

A few hours later, the alcoholic beverages had arrived, as well as some snack foods. The latter, I was unhappy to see, were not healthy choices. Crank shoved the beer into the fridge and lined up several liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. There were also some half empty ones that he took from the cabinet and added to the supply. I decided the best thing for me would be to stay in the bedroom. To make it clear that I didn't plan to socialize, I put on my pajamas. They had short sleeves and legs. If Crank celebrated a bit too heartily, maybe he would forget about making that sleep-in-the-nude habit include me. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, wishing Astrid had allowed me to bring those books. I

thought about her, especially about that glorious bust. My penis tingled at the mental images that were called up. I couldn't stop himself from placing my hand in my lap. Gosh, it would be so much nicer if she hadn't shut off the possibility of us having premarital relations. At least we could use some alternatives to intercourse. Not that I wanted to perform oral sex on her. Icky poo to that. How could guys put their mouths down THERE? She could at least use her hand on me. As it was, I had to do that for myself. Of course, I reasoned, she was making the same sacrifices. It wasn't as if she could go out and gain satisfaction with someone else. Astrid spent a lot of time visiting her female friends, which I thought was fine.

I sat there, replaying visions of my intended. She had often lounged around my apartment, in various stages of undress. She was never nude, of course. The girl had a certain amount of modesty and reserve. Yet she always seemed to put on something revealing. There were tube tops that hugged her bodacious bosoms. And soft cotton shorts that left her bottom cheeks halfway uncovered. She had belly shirts and skintight slacks. There were several pairs of those new jeggings, which were as comfortable as leggings but resembled jeans. I liked her in them and had been happy to let her use the charge cards I had gotten her, to buy them, along with some super-sexy lingerie. That last fashion category caused me some unease, because she never wore the thongs or see-through nighties around me. That would come after our nuptials. At least she got some use out of them. Her visits to those BFFs were often sleepovers, and she was happy to take those items with her. I imagined that she showed them off and bragged about how generous I was in seeing that she had as much of that as she pleased. I did, however, wish she would be

more careful with them. Several pieces had come home torn or badly soiled. It was like she ate ice cream and dribbled into her lap. Sometimes I thought of Astrid as just a little girl in an adult body. It would be so pleasant after she got over her current mood and we could be together all the time. I absolutely wouldn't miss staying with Crank.

Soon, I heard the sounds of guests arriving. Loud voices and unrestrained laughter. Then the music started. It was that hipping and hopping type. I tried to focus my thoughts on Astrid and the way she might look right then, perhaps wearing an example of that transparent sleepwear I had yet to see her in. My little dick was growing stiff. I held it between a thumb and forefinger, through the fly of my jammies. Gee, but I missed Astrid. My hand moved slowly forward and back. It wouldn't be improper to just play with myself for a moment. Or two. It wasn't something of which I was proud, but when I researched the subject, I found that it was almost a universal practice among males, and even some females. After all, there were special sex toys to facilitate doing it. I didn't need any of those, as I fell into the familiar pattern of jerking myself off. My eyes closed and I dreamed perfumed dreams of my lovely Astrid, and how we would share the joys of physical love after we were legally joined. I eased back and felt my shoulders touch the mattress.

I was in a state of bliss, slowly manipulating my tiny dick but making sure not to finish myself. It took away all the stress I'd been undergoing. I might have stayed in that state for a while longer, except I became aware of another presence in the room. When I opened my eyes, I was horrified to see my fiancée glowering down at me. When I attempted to sit up and cover my

exposed penis at the same time, I leaned too far to one side and toppled onto the floor. There I lay, flat on my back, with my hand still on my pecker.

"Oh," I said confusedly. "Astrid. I can explain." But I couldn't. I hurriedly slipped my member back into my PJs, and weakly concluded with, "This isn't what it looks like."

"What it looks like is that you were playing with your puny prick."

"Well, yes, but..." I had to change the subject. There was a tall Black man standing next to her, so I demanded, "Who is that? What are you doing with another guy? And especially, what are you doing with... you know... one of them." I had always been uncomfortable around Black men. Crank had been bad enough, but this was so much worse.

She said, "This is Deon. He's Crank's cousin and he volunteered to escort me here because I wanted to come and give you another chance to stay with me, but I didn't know the area."

"Give me a second chance? That's terrific."

"That was before I caught you committing self-abuse. And got to see that you have a miniature dick. You could have told me about your -- shortcoming -- before we got engaged."

"Well, you never wanted to fool around, and I thought, once we were married..." That didn't sound right.

"You thought it would be too late for me to do anything about getting shortchanged in the sex department. Right?"

"Sort of."
She sneered at me. "You just can't handle anything sexual." Deon broke in, "He handled his little hamster dick."

Astrid said to the Black man, "So I saw. I'm glad you're with me. After a shock like this, I need someone trustworthy." She turned to him and opened her arms. He hugged her and made reassuring sounds. Those balloon boobs were smooshed against his broad chest. She said, "I don't know if I want to go ahead with Melvin."

Rubbing her back, Deon suggested, "You can't give up on him. I mean, maybe the sex thing can still work."

"I was ready to try. You know, I even went online and researched all sorts of techniques." Still in Deon's arms, she turned her attention back to me. "I was going to turn our marital bed into an erotic playground for you. I wanted us to try out all sorts of positions, and to do lots of exciting things for you, and even to -- if you must know -- be kind of a slut for your pleasure. But now, I just don't know."

I was stunned by the vision of a sexual fun-land that her words suggested. I got onto my knees and whimpered, "Astrid, dearest, if you give me some time, I'll make everything okay. Whatever you want will be all right with me."

"It's just..." She sighed. "... I feel like you've done whatever you wanted. Selfishly. Dishonestly. And I hate anyone manipulating the truth. I suppose the only way to fix this..." She paused, as if she couldn't bear to finish her thought.

"What?" I wanted to know. "What is it? Like I said, I'll go along with anything to convince you of my sincerity."

"I need to balance the scales somehow. To do something that establishes my own freedom."

In the rush of events, I didn't understand. Did Astrid want to masturbate, too? That was exciting to think about. Letting my enthusiasm show, I blurted out, "Yes. You're right. You have to establish your equality." I wondered if she would use her fingers or a vibrator. "Whatever you feel is necessary, I'll support you 100%." Would she allow me to watch?

"I'm so glad you feel that way, Melvin. Now I won't suffer any guilt after I spend the evening with Deon."

That wasn't what she was supposed to say. What had I agreed to? Why had I assured her that I would be totally supportive?

She turned her face up to the big man holding her. His hair was short, and he was clean-shaven. The T-shirt he wore showed off his bulging biceps. His pants were so tight that the outline of his cock was unmistakable. It ran along the inside of his thigh, almost to his knee.

Astrid said to Deon, "You were so polite to bring me here. And now I feel so protected by you, after my terrible emotional shock. Could we take some time and get to know each other better... physically?"

He told her, "I can see you sure need some personal attention, girl." He snapped at me, "Go fetch me a beer, boy. And bring the lady a glass of white wine." He asked Astrid, "Is that okay with you?"

"White wine would be perfect. But I should mention that, when I drink, even a little, I become very uninhibited."

"That's okay, sweetness." He stroked her long golden hair. "Uninhibited is a good thing." He flashed a threatening look at me. I got to my feet and scurried out of the room.

The rest of the apartment was full of partygoers. They were mostly Black, with a few attractive white girls in the mix. I was aware of being in those shorty pajamas, with my slim arms and legs exposed. Eyes turned toward me. I saw Jax and the rest of his friends from the front steps. I grinned sheepishly and licked my lips. They said things to each other, sotto voce, so I couldn't hear their words. There was some laughing as I rushed into the kitchen. More bottles had appeared on the counter. A tall Black girl, with overly generous curves, was making and handing out drinks.

"Um, hello Ma'am. I'm Melvin and..."
"I heard the white boy is called Melina. Ain't that right?"

"Well, yes. Some of the guys were chiding me and using that feminine name."

"I'm Shondra. What you want?"

"Well, Deon is in the bedroom with the girl I'm going to marry and..."

"Hold up there, pajamas. You leaving your woman near a bed, with Crank's cousin?"

"Actually, yes." I felt uncomfortable revealing more, but felt it was best. "I sort of cheated on my wife-to-be, and she thinks she's entitled to do something similar."

"Who the hell would want to jump into bed with you?"

"Honestly, Shondra..." I remembered the helpful rule about putting folks at ease by using their first name. "... it wasn't exactly WITH anyone. Now, if I could get two drinks..."

She held up her hand, palm toward me. "You get nothing until I hear the rest of this story. Did that girl with the jumbo jugs catch you whacking your willy?"

"It's just..." I made an elaborate shrug. "Something like that."

"Haw. You want something to drink, let me see what you're carrying."

"You don't mean...?"

"I mean show me what's in them fag PJs, chump. Or do you want to go back to Deon without what he asked for? I don't think he'd be happy if you showed up with empty hands."

"I shouldn't, but... Okay. Just a peek-a-boo."

When I opened my fly and exposed my genitals, Shondra gasped. She exclaimed, "That's the smallest I ever seen. Like the stem on a little gourd."

She unexpectedly seized me by both shoulders and spun me around. I froze, facing the room, with my privates shamefully on display. All I got to say was, "Please, Shondra..."

The big curvaceous woman cut me off, hollering to everyone, "Yo, get a load of this. White boy got a pinky finger where he ought to have a cock."

All eyes went to what she was remarking on. I squealed and tried to cover essentials. Shondra screamed in my ear for me to put my hands on top of my head, which I did without thinking. Then she told me to keep them there. Her hands went under the bottom of my pajama shirt and slid up. She felt around until she located my nipples, which she caught between her thumbs and forefingers. As soon as she began teasing those nibs, I felt my dick stirring.

Shondra said, "Let's see if that puny pickle gets much bigger." She continued her manipulations.

"This is very embarrassing," I said pleadingly.

"You want me to take off them shorts and put your baby-soft ass out the front door?" she wanted to know.

"Don't do that," I bleated.

"Then you hold still." She was tall enough to look over my shoulder and check the progress of my penis. "Damn. It don't gain hardly anything. Still look like a minnow or whatever."

The others, with drinks in hand, were moving nearer. Guys leered at me. Women smirked disrespectfully. I squirmed but didn't attempt to escape. Shondra's massive bust was against my back. Her hands came out and she finger-flicked my erection from side-to-side, then up-and-down, playing with it to amuse the onlookers. Insulting remarks began to fly.

"Holy crap. That look like a spliff that got half smoked." "Or a lipstick tube."
"Maybe a roll of mints."
"Could be a piece of Turkish taffy."

The laughter died down. They got back to whatever they had been doing before. Shondra at last took my drink order and filled it. I had a cold bottle of beer in one hand, and a short squat glass of white wine in the other. I mean, it wasn't even the right sort of glass. When I got back to the bedroom, Deon was propped up

against pillows that were piled against the headboard. Astrid was sitting on his far side, with her legs crossed. She was removing his shoes. Seeing her in bed with another man was so disturbing. They weren't doing anything, but it still made me blink back tears.

"Astrid," I said as I got close enough to hold out their drinks to them. "It might help if you and I talked. Just the two of us."

"After I caught you choking your chicken?" She took her glass.

Deon said, "It was more like choking his chickadee." He took the bottle of beer, unscrewed the top, and tossed the cap to me. I fumbled and dropped it. Then I bent down and picked it up. He told me, "You sure ain't in no position to be telling this fine girl what she should or shouldn't be doing."

"It's just that I was thinking..."

Astrid snapped, "Don't think, Melvin. Deon and I both saw you fingering your pitiful dick. Do you think masturbating doesn't count as sex? Would that make it okay for me to grab hold of Deon's cock? Hmmm? His cock that's so much longer and thicker than that little piece of finger-food that you've got?"

"I mean..." What could I say? "That's an interesting argument, but it's not as if you would actually handle his... um... manhood."

Her pretty lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. In open defiance, she laid her hand on the young Black man's penis, through the material of his pants. I could only stare as she rubbed up and down its considerable length. And it got even longer.

"Girl," he said to her. "There's not a whole lot of room in there, if you know what I mean. It's getting kind of cramped."

"Oh, Deon," she cooed sympathetically. "I'm so sorry." To me, she said, "See what you made me do, Melvin?" Returning her attention to the reclining figure, she said, "Let me try something to help you."

I goggled at them as she deftly undid his belt, unfastened the button at his waist, and lowered his fly. She gently eased down his pants until a pair of long jockey shorts was revealed, with his manhood bulging against them.

She asked him in a sugary voice, "Is that better, dear?"

"I'm not getting crushed no more," he allowed, "but there's still the matter of you starting something and then not finishing it."

"Oh my," she said with innocence that I wasn't sure was real. "You're right. You know, there are all those techniques that I learned, intending to use them for Melvin's pleasure. It would be poetic justice for me to use some of that on you... while he has to watch." She locked eyes with me. "Don't you agree, Melvin?"

"Well... it's just... that seems kind of unbalanced. All I did was to... you know..."

Her disapproving glare shut my mouth. She lovingly caressed his long shaft. Then she bared it. He possessed a monster cock, if I may describe it so crudely. Slowly it rose, until she had it standing

up. She got him naked from the waist down. Her pale fingers couldn't circle its impressive girth. She kept up a slow-motion pumping action. Her thumb rubbed the underside of his knob.

She told me, "I hope you learn something from this situation you've created, with your filthy habits and lying." Astrid asked Deon, "Is it all right, honey, if I try out what I learned on you?"

"Sure, babe. It's more than okay."

Before my disbelieving eyes, she lapped the fingers of one hand to get them wet, and used them to manipulate the head of his penis, paying plenty of attention to the corona and frenum. I'd used that method on myself many times, though I preferred lotion to saliva. I sniffled. This couldn't be happening. She capped the large knob with her mouth and sucked hard enough that her cheek drew in. Deon moaned. My future wife descended on his tool, inch after inch vanishing between her lips. She was deepthroating him. I was surprised by how much skill she had acquired without any prior physical experience. It's amazing what you can learn remotely, on the internet. Her head went down and up, over and over, while he growled his approval. She got him out of her mouth and throat, but only so she could lick his balls. That was an act she had intended to perform on me. I knew because she had said so. Astrid kissed her way up from the base of his shaft to the rounded top, and then did her sword-swallowing trick again.

"Damn girl, you're good," he praised.

Hot tears ran down my cheeks. At the same time, my erection returned. That shouldn't be happening. I poked out of the fly in

my jammies, a tiny pink accusation of my lack of self-control. Maybe it was because Shondra had so recently toyed with my nipples. I wanted to do the same for myself, but it would be too mortifying. I had to be strong, to win back my beloved as quickly as possible. She was kneeling, bent over Deon's cock. When she sat up on her haunches, he pawed her breasts. She helpfully pulled up her top, letting them free, so he could touch them on the bare, the way I had wanted to do for so long. Without thinking, I took hold of my straining erection. While they were focused on each other, I granted myself a half dozen strokes. She returned to lavishing attention on his member. Just my bad luck, Astrid caught me. She popped his wet cock out of her mouth again, got one hand on it, and glowered at me.

"Once again," she said with a sneer, "you can't keep your fingers off your business."

Deon turned his head and grinned maliciously. "Looks like one of them small businesses that's about to fail. Don't stop, boy. But just use your thumb and one finger. That's plenty for what you got there."

I did as I was told. The humiliation was excruciating. They both chuckled at me. Astrid made me drop my shorts. Deon had me unbutton my top. She told me to diddle my nipples. He said to wet my fingers and then do it some more. Soon they had me on the verge of losing all restraint. My undersized balls throbbed.

"You know what's going on?" Deon asked Astrid. "You boy over there is a freak. He's getting off on seeing his one-and-only taking care of a big strong Black stud."

"OMG," she exclaimed. "That makes perfect sense. He wants to watch us do this."

"So," Deon went on, "if he likes being in the room while you suck and swirl, he'd get off even more if you and me did the Big Dirty right in front of him."

My voice quavered as I pointed out, "She's saving herself for me."

Deon shot back with, "From what we saw, you been saving yourself for your hand."

I sputtered and tried to come up with a defense, but my mind was a tangled ball of confusion. Astrid licked Deon's rod like it was a thick stick of candy. She took the head into her mouth and shook her head playfully.

After she went back to just stroking, she decided, "You're right, Deon. And if I'm going to marry this pervert, I'll have to get used to giving him what he secretly wants. So..."

Astrid quickly stripped, while he peeled off his shirt. I got my first look at her uncovered ass, which was magnificent, firm but nicely rounded. Her heavy boobs bobbed and swayed. She had a neat triangle of pale pubic hair, divided in the middle by pink lips. It hurt to see what I had caused her to give to another man. Questions swirled around in my mind. First there was Jax mistaking me for a girl and rechristening me as Melina. Then came what Crank had said with such assurance, about me having gay tendencies. Shondra publicly disparaging my penis

dimensions. And Astrid finding me in that unfortunate position, committing self-abuse. Plus, now, the pair on the bed declaring that I had gotten aroused by seeing her cheating on me. I wanted to deny everything, yet my stiffy was harder than ever, and leaking clear drops onto my thighs as I continued my thumb-and-finger self-manipulation. What was happening to me?

The woman who had been saving her purity for me, laid herself out for Deon. He got between her thighs, on his knees, with that enviable erection pointed at the center of her femininity. For a suspended moment, nothing happened. I tried to wish away the inevitable. He eased into her sacred place, his cock disappearing there, as it had into her mouth and throat. I whimpered loudly. Deon entered up to his root, then stayed still, as if giving her time to adjust to being penetrated by such a massive member. She sighed and grasped his muscular arms. Her knees elevated slightly. He pulled back until only the head was inside her. She moaned.

"Please," she begged, "give it to me hard."

No. She wasn't thinking clearly. Emotion had gotten the best of her. I felt sure that, under different circumstances, she would never plead to be used that way. After all, hadn't she declined sex with me, even though I was available all that time? The poor girl had spent so many nights with her female friends. I realized now that she had probably been praising me on those occasions, and probably even questioning her decision to postpone our mutual fulfilment. Now she was acting so uncharacteristically and, I had to admit, it was my fault, for the shock I had given her when she entered that room, coming there only to reconcile with me.

My thoughts about motivation and blame were cut off by Deon's fierce plunge into Astrid's body. She cried out in ecstasy. They went at it like rutting animals. My romantic notions about Astrid and sex were destroyed by their fervid coupling. She kept saying things to glorify his cock, while also disparaging mine.

"You're hung like a stallion, Deon. It feels so good inside me. I can only imagine what a disappointment Melvin's baby dick would have been. It would be about as exciting as sticking a mini-tampon in there."

Despite everything, I couldn't stop touching myself, keeping my hand moving. Their overheated scene went on and on and on. Finally, they were approaching a big finish, and I wasn't far behind. She screamed with primitive release. He gritted his teeth and growled. They climaxed together. I spurted all over the floor, like a masturbating monkey in the zoo. The two of them relaxed in each other's arms. I stayed where I was, letting my shoulders slump and hanging my head in shame. About five minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

"Yo." It was Crank. "I got some stash in the dresser. Okay if I come in to grab it?"

"Sure," said Deon. "We're all done the deed. And it looks like Melvin is, too."

Crank checked me over and shook his head. "What a freaking loser. We been calling him Melina, cause he looks like a girl and don't act like a dude. With that pintsize pecker, he can't never be

nothing but a sissy wimp." He got a plastic baggie from the dresser. Then he told me, "You made a damn mess on my floor. Clean it up, piggy." I held out my hands to indicate that I had nothing with which to do the job. Crank scowled and told me, "Get the hell down there and use your tongue."

The two on the bed watched with interest. I got my face close to the floor. There were white droplets all over. My throat tried to close up. I could smell my semen. When I turned my eyes up, hoping desperately that one of the three would take mercy on me, and suggest some alternate way of performing the task, all I got back were impatient expressions. Out came my tongue. I began lapping up the individual spots. It was disgusting. I went after them like a dog licking up a spattered spill. Astrid snickered. I was careful to get every creamy bit of it, even going over some spots twice, rather than risk Crank's anger for anything I might miss.

At last, it was over. Crank left. Deon and Astrid enjoyed some cuddle time. I'd had that with her, except in my case we were always clothed, and it was rather chaste. He gave her compliments and lightly ran his big hands over her body, taking extra time with those tribute-worthy breasts. The Black man licked and sucked her nipples. She had nothing but good words for him. At long last they got dressed and, after a final snort of disgust from Astrid, joined the party. I was so worried about possibly getting myself into even more trouble, that I stayed on the floor and left the bed empty. Hours later, the noise from the other side of the door died down. The party ended. Crank came into the room.

I watched him get undressed, remembering what he had said about sleeping in the buff. He slid his wide belt out of the loops on his jeans and set it on the bedside table. His whole body was as impressively developed as his powerful arms. This time, when he bared his tool, I made a point of not staring. I didn't want to add fuel to his idea that I had ogled it before, and that I was interested from more than curiosity. He took a few swaying steps, making his member swing like a pendulum. Obviously, he had been drinking, and presumably enjoying some recreational marijuana. I knelt there, trying to be inconspicuous. Crank got near enough that his manhood was directly in my line of sight, so close that I could smell the masculine muskiness of his crotch.

"Well," he said with an edge in his voice. "What are you waiting for? Aren't you coming to bed, Melina?" He sat on the edge of the mattress, his long cock hanging between his legs.

As I got up, I tugged my pajama bottoms back into place. He gave me a ferocious look. I didn't know what I was doing to raise his ire. He snatched the belt up and doubled it over.

"Ain't you going to respect my rules?" He slapped the leather against his palm. "Didn't I say we don't wear no pajamas for sleeping?"

"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry. I was just..."

"And don't make no lame excuses. You disrespected my rules, so now I got to do something about it. Come her, lower them shorts to half-mast, and get your pale white self across my lap."

"What? NO!"
"Now you're giving me backtalk?"

"I didn't mean to. I just go upset." Each word got quieter. "Is it really necessary for you to do... that?" I finished in a feeble whisper.

"Damn right it is. I don't show you what's what, you ain't gone listen the next time, neither. Right, vanilla?"

"I mean, I would try not to do it again."

When that didn't mollify him, I went to where he sat, unhappily dropped my pajama bottom to mid-thigh, and draped myself across his firm upper legs. It was utterly shameful, to be there like a misbehaving child over a stern, male, authority figure's lap. My bare skin pressed against his. My dick sprang to life. Crank obviously felt it stiffen, because he bounced his leg to add to my stimulation.

The big man said, "I know this is getting you all turned on, faggot, but don't come on me or I'll really mess you up."

I managed a stuttering, "Yes... yes... Sir."

Crank set his hand, with fingers splayed, on my backside. He pawed me and made no attempt to downplay what he was doing. Then it was my turn to feel him getting rock hard. His impressive cock pushed up against my belly. I turned my head and saw his arm rising. Oh, crud. Here it came. The folded belt smacked my

butt hard and I let out a cry of pain and surprise. My legs kicked. Suddenly, my sitter was on fire. As he landed spank after spank, the pain spread and penetrated. I heard myself squealing like a schoolgirl.

He said, "Go on, Melina. Have a good cry. Let me hear the real you."

Crank didn't let up until I was a broken, babbling wreck. My body went limp but my dick stayed hard. I was wracked with sobs.

He told me, "I made your ass bright red. It got to hurt like hell. But your shrimp dick is harder than hard. You really into this shit."

"I..." I sniffled loudly. "I'm not."

"No? Or are you just lying to yourself? Didn't you have lots of chances, when you was dating that girl, to speak up and tell her what you wanted? Don't you think maybe she was waiting for exactly that? But no, you didn't want pussy, not deep down inside. What you wanted was the thing that's poking your soft tummy right now."

"It's not true. I mean, I don't think it is. Please say it's not."

"Hey, I'm not the one who gets stiff from seeing his woman with somebody else, and who stays that way from having his tail end tanned by a real man."

"But... maybe it's just... like... a physical reaction to... I don't know... stress."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"I'm not... I never thought I was..."

"We all heard that story before. The guy who didn't think he was gay, no matter how fruity he acted. And said he wasn't no freak, even though he acted like a super-freak."

"Not... not me," I insisted, sounding unconvincing even to myself.

"No? Let's get you road-tested. Or, we better make that 'bed-tested'."

Crank stood, rolling me off his lap. Before I could fall, he caught me by the hair and held me that way. I got my feet under me and straightened up. He let go and pointed to the middle of the mattress. I choked on fear.

"Now just get all comfortable," he invited. "Take off them girly pajamas. I'll lay down with you, and we can just talk. Get to know each other."

"And maybe it can stop there." "Might be, it can."

Badly shaken, with my butt cheeks blazing, naked as the day I was born, I stretched out on the far side of the bed. He settled his

much longer and heavier body alongside mine. Rolling toward me, he propped himself up on one elbow.

"So, Melina," he wanted to know, what was you like when you was a teenager?"

"Gosh," I said, relieved that this was taking a better turn. "I was kind of shy and retiring and bookish." I gave him a friendly smile.

All at once he was yelling into my face. "And I was mean and nasty. Then I got horny. And I'm still all those ways. So, get your hand on my stick and show it some love."

His abrupt change of mood left me rattled, but not so much that I couldn't follow orders. I gripped his rod. It was warm and solid and too thick for me to get my fingers all the way around. I was holding a Black man's cock. The moment was unreal.

"Well?" he asked gruffly. "You going to do anything with all that meat? Like pump it some?"

"I... um... yes, Sir."

My hand began to slide up and down the considerable length. My nerves were fraying. I trembled all over. Crank jerked his hips a few times, to show me the tempo he preferred. I copied his rhythm. He grunted his approval.

"Now slide on down there, so you can see eye-to-eye with my anaconda."

When I moved myself lower, I was staring at his pee-hole. As I watched, a drop of clear fluid swelled from it. My lips curled with revulsion. But my pecker was still as hard as a poker.

He told me, "I don't want to drip on these sheets, Melina, so how about if you lick up that stuff I'm leaking?"

"I can't." A gagging sound came from my throat.

"Hey." He sounded like he might scream at me again. "You want to polish my knob, or should I just jam it up your spanked, white-bread, ass?"

"Jam it...? You mean like anal sex?"

"I mean like butt-funking. Prison-bunkmate style. My piston up your factory outlet. You decide. It's all good by me, long as I get to bust my nut. And you being a secret sissy, I figure you'll love it either way."

The thick transparent teardrop quivered, about to fall. If I didn't stop it, that Black bruiser might subject me to another round of spanking, at the very least. I couldn't endure that. I sat up and leaned in. My mouth opened wide. I fitted it over his knob, which pressed against my tongue and palate at the same time. When I closed my lips, I could barely contain it. What did he want me to do next? I thought about the descriptions of blowjobs in the many dirty stories I had read online. Those all had girls doing it for guys, but me being a guy doing it to another guy didn't change how it was done. I swirled my tongue around the widest part and then used it to stroke the underside. Then I switched from the

awkward sitting position I'd assumed, to a more practical kneeling one. I sucked hard, then bobbed my head up and down, making him reach my pharynx. That triggered the gag reflex, but by slowing down, I was able to manage it enough to keep going. It entered my throat. I had a panicky instant of choking, before I backed off enough to draw a breath. After that, I found I could go back and forth between having him block my air passage, and retreating enough to inhale. I used my nostrils as much as possible.

"You taking it real good, Melina," he congratulated. "Like a natural-born cocksucker. Don't be shy about using your hand, at the same time."

As much as I hated to be called that girly name, and be described by that lewd term, it all fit. I was so confused. And keeping him happy was still my main goal. I was extremely afraid of physical punishment. Forcing myself to stay calm -- as much as I could in such a dire situation -- I got him into my throat, deeper and deeper, until his heavy balls were against my chin. I drew back until only the knob was in my mouth, then descended again, until he was balls-deep. It was disgraceful, but at least his attention had shifted to the -- admittedly -- terrific blowjob he was receiving. I was safe, so long as I continued to perform like a he-slut in heat. Crank moaned loudly. The pain in my butt cheeks was penetrating deeper. I moaned softly, around his monster cock. His breathing accelerated. OMG, he was getting closer to ejaculating. I was going to have to swallow a load of his cream, like a seed-feeding sissy.

With just the bulging head in my mouth, I took his advice and got my hand busy again. Working it slowly up and down, I was about to make him blast his ejaculate. Those heavy balls must be carrying quiet a load. Quivering all over -- from disgust and not lust, I told myself -- I manipulated and swirled and sucked. Crank made a guttural sound and spurted his semen against the roof of my mouth. It gathered under my tongue. Some overflowed, down the back of my throat. There was so much of the warm thick mess. I gagged down more, sickened by what I was doing. Was some part of me honestly enjoying this? Had I been secretly desiring it all along? I took his shaft partway into my throat again, while it was still hard. As it lost its rigidity, I tenderly mouthed it. That was only to prevent him from losing his temper. Wasn't it?

"Damn, Melina," he told me. "After that A+ kind of a BJ, there ain't no way you can tell me you're not into fag games."

Rather than disagree with him, I murmured, "Yes, Crank. That's right."

"Which means you want to go the rest of the way, and get your cherry popped."

"I... not really."

"You saying I don't know what I'm talking about?" His tone grew threatening. "You calling me stupid?"

"No. Never."

"Then what I just said, got to be the truth. You want your back door opened wide and banged hard. I'm right here, and ready to help you get what you been hoping for. So don't make no excuses. Instead, step and fetch me another beer. It won't take long for my Johnson to get primed up for Round Two. Step lively, girl, or I'm gone have to get my belt together again with them buns I already burned, and maybe use it on the backs of them thighs, too."

"Yes, Sir." I got up, desperate to avoid further corporeal discipline.

He told me, "And don't rinse your mouth. You got to have my taste in there, all night long."

I scampered from the room. The rest of the apartment was a wreck from the party. I had a sudden premonition that I would be the one to clean it up. Grabbing a bottle of beer, I hurried back to the bedroom. Crank unscrewed the top and flung the bottle cap onto the dresser. He guzzled down half the contents.

"Your sissy ass is so damn cute," he informed me, "that I'm getting hot for it already. It's getting me hard, like you was a real girl."

"Y... yes, Sir," was all I could say.
"So, put yourself on this bed, buns up, kneeling."

I assumed the position, hugging a pillow. He drained the rest of the beer. Putting himself behind me, he poked at my virgin tightness with the mouth of the bottle.

"That Astrid girl," he went on, his words slightly slurred. "You said she was holding off from sex until you two got hitched. So, are you a virgin?"

"Yes," I confessed, shamefaced.

"Which means, when I take you, you're giving it up to me, instead of her losing hers to you."

"That's true. Plus, she surrendered her maidenhead to Deon earlier, which was all my fault."

"You sure are a screw-up, Melina." He shoved hard on the bottle, forcing the end into me. I let out a cry of pain. He asked, "If a little thing like this bothers you so much, what are you going to do when I give you the big sausage? Damn, girl, I'm just loosening you up. Trying to make the real thing easier for you to take."

"Y... yes, Sir," I whimpered. "Thank you. It's only that..."

He started pulling and pushing. It was very uncomfortable, but also strangely stimulating. I moaned and, in spite of myself, thrust back against the anal invader. He chuckled and kept up that steady tempo.

"Now we're going to switch over to Mister Jumbo Jones. You got to relax, if you don't want it to wreck you."

He extracted the bottle and dropped it onto the floor. I felt the tip of his cock touch me back there. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself, trying to untense at the same time. Crank leaned toward

me, inserting the thick head. He gave me a minute to recover from that. His fingers gripped my hips as he drove in inch after ring-stretching inch, until I was blubbering and he was buried, balls-deep. Crank increased his speed gradually, elevating my involvement along with it. Against my will, I turned into a mewling accepting partner. My little pecker would not go limp.

"Please." I heard my own voice, as if it was someone else's. "Don't stop." Had I actually said that? "Keep going... and going... and going."

"Damn right, I will. Imma ride you from here to the other side of the border. Straight into Sissy Land."

He was good to his word. I lost track of time, as he got me panting, my tongue lolling out of my mouth. All I could think of was that I didn't want him to stop. He worked me like a master musician with a finely tuned instrument. It went on and on, until I felt myself nearing orgasm. No. I couldn't allow him to send me over that final barrier, to make me finish from having his superior cock deep inside me. But it happened. He tensed, dug his fingers into my soft flesh, and I knew he was launching his semen into my bowels. To my eternal shame, I ejaculated onto the sheet at the same time. My wail of defeat was piteous. His laugh of triumph was devastating. He had proved his assertion that I was, at some level, a true sissy.

After that pivotal moment, I still had to spend the rest of the agreed upon time living with Crank. He used me like some cheap whore. I was loaned out to Jax, and then to Jax's buddies. I could sense my masculinity being squeezed out of me. All I could think

about was the next cock that would invade my mouth or ass, or else a pair of them to fill both orifices at once. I was a total slave to unnatural desires. When Astrid came to visit, always in the company of Deon, Crank would give her reports about how much more extreme my behavior had become. He speculated that soon I wouldn't be capable of climaxing without male penetration. I began to believe him.

My single chance of salvation was that Astrid would take me back. I pinned all my hopes on that. So, when she declared that she was willing to give me another try, I couldn't believe my change of fortune. To show my faith in her good intentions, I signed a prenuptial agreement without reading it. What did it matter? Everything would soon be perfect. We were wed in a small ceremony. I had to wear panties under my tuxedo, as a reminder to control my male urges, and had to agree on Deon as our best man. She danced with him more than with me, at our modest reception. In the bridal suite, she declined to have sex with me. Instead, she consummated our marriage by donning a strap-on and raping my ass with a black dildo. When I came all over the fancy bedspread, Astrid decided I was far from cured, and that we should delay intercourse until I could shed my perverted persona. The change didn't come. Instead, it was almost as if she was trying to keep me in that state. Besides that, she spent a lot of time with Deon, for 'talk' and 'consolation'. After six difficult months, she got a lawyer and filed for divorce. Our prenup was ironclad. Very soon we were no longer wed. I was destitute. All my assets went into her name. Even my trust fund payouts were going to her.

Astrid must have still had some feelings for me. She allowed me to move in with her and Deon, in the apartment that had formerly been mine. To earn my keep, I had to serve as their maid, with a barely-there outfit, complete with fishnet stockings. I was also required to be a sexual plaything to them both, which deepened my addiction to being used and abused. When they went out, someone would always come to stay with me. It might be Jax or Shondra, both of who were informed that I was theirs to do with as they pleased. Sometimes they brought friends along.

It's been a year since our one-sided divorce settlement. I've put on a few pounds and become softer than ever. Sometimes I wear a corset, that pushes the soft flesh of my chest up, into faux breasts. All my body hair has been permanently removed. Black men come to our house and do whatever they please to me, in my bedroom, which resembles a slut's personal space. There are all sorts of sex and bondage toys for them to use. They give Deon expensive booze and other gifts, or present Astrid with flashy jewelry. My visitors delight in calling me insulting names and mocking my undersized penis.

SofarasIcansee,thisisgoingtobemylifefromnowon. ButI keep hoping that Astrid will have a change of heart. It could happen. We might become man and wife again, without Deon in our lives. I might even lose my heterosexual virginity. Of course, there's one big stumbling block. I'm so hooked on Black cock, that I don't know if I could ever give it up. That's the kind of issue that could make a traditional marriage difficult to establish and maintain, if you ask me. Right?