What Happens in Vegas... Written by Dex O’Donald (50 Pages) (Patreon)

What Happens in Vegas...

Written by Dex O’Donald Concept by Devin Dickie

© 2019-2030 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
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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.

What

Happens

in Vegas...

Written by Dex O’Donald Concept by Devin Dickie

1.“I swear, Michael. It’s like you never do anything nice or special for me,” Holly says in that whiny, bitchy voice she gets when she feels like being a brat. “I mean, we’ve been dating three months already and you only take me out to dinner at, like, the cheapest places.”

Holly lies in a lounge chair as the sun beats down on her petite, pale body. My girlfriend has massive, all-encompassing breasts that seem to be the center of attention everywhere we go, and even though she’s

technically bitching me out right now, I can’t help but stare at her gorgeous body and become painfully hard in my swim trunks. She’s got this pink-striped bikini top on that’s barely big enough to cover her nipples, and her gigantic tits overflow at the top, bottom, and sides.

“I’m doing my best, Holly,” I plead, familiar panic rising in my stomach. “I’m working two jobs right now and even applying for a third one at night...I thought the dinner we had the other evening was really nice!”

“Jesus, Michael,” she rolls her eyes at me, her brilliant, crystal blue eyes that are almost as distracting as her size 32H breasts. “It was fucking tacos and tequila. Is that really the best you can do?”

Her blonde hair is two-toned with shades of red and strawberry, waves of pink here and there that hang in her face and down to her shoulders. She looks at me through those gorgeous locks with the type of stare that can build you up higher than you’ve ever been or cut you down to the size of a rat. Lately it seems to be the latter.

“Stop being so loud,” I whisper, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. We’re sitting beside the community pool in the center of our apartment complex. As per usual the place was empty when we got here, but about five minutes after Holly took her shirt off and revealed that tiny string bikini top, half the men who live here showed up for a dip in the pool.

“What, are you embarrassed? Don’t want the other guys to hear what a lousy boyfriend you are? Afraid they might try and make a move on your girl?”

she’s smiling at me now, lapping up my discomfort. I feel my posture wilt, the raw sting of embarrassment in my cheeks. I glance around the pool and see different groups of men staring at us, staring at her, smiling and cracking jokes. Suddenly I feel like putting my shirt on and hiding my beer gut and man boobs, shielding everyone from my weirdly large nipples and poor physique.

“Can we just try and have a nice day?” I ask, brushing my shoulder length brown hair from my face. “You know I love you, Holly. I would do anything for you.”

“Big talk from a little man,” she says dismissively.

I stare at her luscious, perfect body and wonder went wrong with us. When I met her at a house party four months back it was like talking to a completely different girl. That particular girl had incredible, earth-moving tits as well, but that girl also had kindness in her smile and in her words. She was gentle with me then, all through those first two months of dating. She’d let me go down on her for hours, cumming in my mouth over and over again, telling me how great I was at giving head. And she was patient - with my nerves and my shame. You see, I’m only 5’5 and my manhood is, well, not exactly big. I didn’t blame her when she giggled the first time she saw it. At least she tried to hide it.

“How big is that?” she asked me. It was the first time we’d seen each other naked, and I was shaking like a leaf.

“Right now?” I said, looking down at my terrified, shriveled little dick.

“Yeah how big now and how big hard?” her blue eyes looked like smoke in the low light of my room, filled with fascination at the little thing between my legs.

“It’s about...2 inches soft,” I said.

“Oh come on now,” Holly smiled at me, tugging at the foreskin covering my dick. “You don’t have to exaggerate with me. I don’t care. How big is it really?”

“I guess it’s closer to...maybe 1.5 inches?”
“And hard?”
“It’s tough to say...” I swallow, feeling myself dare

to open up to a girl about something so vulnerable. I was comfortable around her then, like she knew me, every part of me. So, I didn’t hold back. “It hurts sometimes...like when I think about you Holly, and your amazing tits. I get so hard it hurts. I’m not kidding when I say it hurts...I think it gets to 3.5 inches when I think about you.”

Holly went quiet and for a moment I thought she was suppressing a laugh. She looked so perfect lying in my bed with her top off, those gigantic breasts spilling out over my blankets. Her nipples are so puffy and wide all the time and that night was no different.

“Why aren’t you hard now?” she asked me, tickling my tiny dick with her forefinger.

“I’m just nervous, I’ll get there,” I assured her.

“I bet you will,” she smiled. We kissed. She always seemed to like making out more than anything, almost more than the head I would so willingly give

her. She always said I was a good kisser. A great kisser. And even though she never made me come, never even offered to, it wasn’t something I really thought or worried about. I knew eventually we would have sex...but it troubled me to think about how long I might last, or how painful it could be.

“There he is,” she giggled, stroking my erect 3.5 inches between her thumb and pointer. She tried to pull the foreskin back over my fat mushroom head and I winced. “Something wrong?” she asked.

“No, it just...hurts sometimes...”

“It’s awfully skinny, Michael,” she jerked faster, ignoring my pain. “And the head is so weird looking...doesn’t really come all the way out of your foreskin, does it?”

“Uh-huh,” I grimaced, my heart starting to race. “It’s cute,” she said, letting go of it suddenly. “Thanks, I guess...”
“Get between my legs and taste me, baby...” That was then and this is now. We still haven’t

fucked and that’s probably just as much my fault as hers, but lately she won’t even let me go down on her. I’m staring at her supple little frame basking in the sunlight, and I try to remember the last time she let me suck on her tits. I can’t remember. The same thing goes for any sign of a compliment, or affection.

I can feel her slipping away from me, and something like desperation sets into my stomach.

“Hey Holly,” a masculine voice comes from behind my shoulder, and I turn around. “Looking good today, babe,” he says. It’s this guy named Josh

who lives down the hall from us. He’s your basic blonde bro with a six pack and a white smile, and I’ve never been able to stand him or his like.

“Hey Josh,” Holly smiles back, sitting up in the lounge chair and leaning forward. She flashes those ice-blue eyes at him and crosses her dainty arms below her giant white tits. “Going for a swim?”

“Gotta get my laps in,” he says, completely ignoring my presence. “You wanna come in for a dip? I could show you my backstroke. Maybe teach you a thing or two,” he winks.

“Backstroke sounds tough,” she giggles. “Not sure I could stay afloat, if you know what I mean.”

“I could give you a hand.”

I sit there in awkward silence as the two of them banter, Josh blatantly staring at Holly’s ocean of tits.

“Maybe I’ll see you in there in a few,” Holly lays back and I swear I see her wink at him.

“Maybe you will,” he nods and turns to walk away, but not before turning to me briefly and saying, “nice highlights, Mark.”

“It’s Mike,” I mumble. The light-brown streaks in my hair that he’s remarking on were Holly’s idea...but suddenly I’m not so sure anymore.

My stomach is a nauseous knot of fear, anxiety, and heart ache. Would she really just up and leave me for someone like Josh? The thought chills me to the bone. I stare at Holly; eyes closed, perfect body all but revealed in a tiny bikini, her wild hair with its locks of gold, red, and pink hanging about her cute, innocently deceptive face. I have a choice right now. I can cry to

her about how she hurt my feelings, about how inadequate it makes me feel when she acts like that...or I can do something about it.

I take one last longing look at her gargantuan, creamy breasts...and then I reach into my tote bag and pull out my iPhone.

“Sandra’s boyfriend is taking her on a cruise,” Holly says, never opening her eyes as she raves at me. “All inclusive, seven days. They get to go to the Virgin Islands and all sorts of other stuff...she says he’s a real star in the sack, too...can go all night...”

I’m having a hard time concentrating on the phone screen, her words cut like knives into my psyche, not to mention the fact that I can still hear a group of dudes laughing nearby and I’m certain they are making jokes about my love handles.

But no matter, I’ve checked my bank account and I’ve applied for another credit card. I’m navigating to travel.com with shaking thumbs when she starts in about her ex...

“Chad used to spoil me,” she sighs. “Whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it...granted, he didn’t know how to lick it like you, Michael, but he had other talents. God-given you could call them...once we took a trip to New York by train and we had our own private cabin. You wouldn’t believe the things he did – “

“And it’s booked. Pack your bags.”

I turn my phone screen towards my girlfriend and for the first time all I day I am able to manage a smile. Ear to ear.

“What’s that?” she opens her eyes and leans forward; she puts her hand on my knee. “Oh my gosh, Michael! What is that!”

“That’s our flight confirmation,” I say, scrolling down the page, “and this is our room reservation. Sorry, our suite reservation. We’re going to Las Vegas, baby. And we’re going tonight!”

“Michael!” she screams, throwing herself at me, wrapping her skinny arms around my neck and pressing her giant chest to mine. “Michael oh my gosh! No way!”

“Yes way,” I flash a shit-eating smile at all the bros watching us from poolside. I can see Josh in the water shaking his head back and forth.

“But how!” she kisses me. “How can you afford it? It must be so expensive...”

“Don’t you worry about it,” I say, images of my maxed-out credit cards flashing in my mind. “What’s important is that you get what you deserve...I love you, Holly. And I want to be with you...forever. I can’t stand the thought of not having you...”

“And you will be with me,” she whispers in my ear. “You’re going to get all of me, Michael. Every fucking bit of it in the hotel suite...I’m ready for you, baby...I’m ready for you to fuck me...”

I kiss her just the way she likes, lots of lips and the right amount of tongue. I even cop a feel right there in public and she lets me. My head is pounding because I went from feeling as low as I’ve ever felt to a high that I didn’t know existed. My dick is a painful

cramp in my swim trunks, and I’m thinking about what she just said.

You’re going to get all of me...I’m ready for you to fuck me...

As we walk back to our apartment to pack for the trip, I take a moment to appreciate the present moment. I have a gorgeous, perfect girlfriend who loves me and definitely doesn’t want to break up with me. I have an exciting(albeit expensive) trip to Las Vegas happening in just a few hours. And maybe, finally, I’m going to lose my virginity...however painful that may be.

But why can’t I shake the feeling that this could all fall apart at any moment?

2.

The plane touches down in Vegas that night around 8pm. Holly’s wearing this insane, red-laced dress that cuts way down in the front, and I swear to God every dude who walked by us on the plane on the way to the bathroom ended up staying in there longer than he should have. The lace of the dress shows off the pale skin of her arms, legs, and ass...with only a black thong on beneath.

I stare at her like a horny schoolboy the entire cab ride over to Caesar’s Palace. On the elevator up she corners me, pulls one puffy nipple out over the top of her red dress, and feeds it to me. My dick strains painfully in my shorts as I suck and suck. A moment later the elevator doors are open and we are walking down the hallway to our suite.

“This isn’t too bad,” Holly sighs, walking about the room with hands on her hips. “At least we have a view...”

“And it has a tub!” I pant, hauling our luggage in from the hallway.

“Maybe I’ll let you give me a bath then,” she winks.

“Mmm, I hope so.”

She walks to the far windows and looks out over the strip. She is perfect. That wild, cotton-candy look of her natural blonde hair draped over her bare shoulders, her thin little legs and arms and fragile neck. Her lips are pouty and always moist, and she has the cutest, tucked little nose that seems to smell bullshit from a mile away.

And her eyes. My God those eyes.

“Do you want to go down and check out the roulette tables?” she turns to me, her eager hands coming to the low-cut neck of her dress and tickling the skin there. My voice gets caught in my throat when she pulls them out, heavy and huge and swollen. “Or do you want to check me out, Michael?” Her tits hang like two massive flesh pendulums, their weight combining with gravity so that they hang nearly to her belly button.

I rush across the room and fill my hands with them. The flesh is soft and mailable and I squeeze it all between my fingers. They are so heavy, probably a quarter of her body weight. Holly’s just a skinny little thing, barely tall enough to ride rollercoasters. It’s a wonder she can carry these around all day. I take one puffy nipple into my mouth and suck at it like a newborn.

“Mmmm, that’s good Michael,” her hands come to the back of my head, and she runs her fingers through my shoulder-length hair. “That’s it baby. Suck my titties...”

I feast. I can feel my overly-large mushroom tip trying to break free of its natural coil and it hurts, but these tits in my mouth taste too good to stop. I want her. I want her now more than I ever have. And I’ve earned it, haven’t I? After all I’ve done...after maxing out my credit cards for this trip...just to touch her...

“Mmm, that’s it baby...good boy...is your dick hard?”

“Yes,” I whisper in a shaking voice.

“Mmm, I bet it is...does it hurt?”
“Kinda,” I say through a mouthful of titty.
“Do you want me to play with it, Michael?” “More than anything...”
“Tell me, baby...tell me you want me to play with

your little dick...”
“What?” I stop sucking, “my what?”
“Your little dick, Michael...tell me you want me to

play with it...”
“Holly, I...I’m not sure I like that, I’m sort of

embarrassed and...”
“Shhhh,” she shoves her breast back into my

mouth and smothers me. All I can see is white flesh, all I can taste is her skin. Her nipples rub hard and swollen into my nose and eyes. My groin aches. “Tell me, Michael. Tell me you want it. Say it now. You want me to play with your little dick!”

“I want you to play with my little dick, Holly,” I relinquish. “Please...it hurts...”

“Want me to jerk your little dick off so you can cum and the pain goes away?”

“Yes...”

“You know it’s so small right, Michael? It’s too small for a girl like me...lucky you’re cute, because I would never let someone with such an itty-bitty little dick even touch me...”

I’m lost in her tits, but my stomach is upside down and her words wound me. So much so that the painful erection in my pants seems to leave in one breath and come back not even a moment later. I’m confused about how I feel about it all...I have her body

in my hands, in my mouth...but she has my heart under her heel, and she’s digging in.

“Show me your little dick, Michael. Take it out of its pants,” she commands.

I do as I’m told, overwhelmed and blushing red with embarrassment.

“Oh myyyy,” she giggles, covering her cute little mouth with her cute little hand. “It’s smaller than I remember. Is it hard?”

“I think so...”

She giggles madly. Her tits shake with laughter, and she gathers them up, giant and flowing in her arms and squeezes them together. “You want to suck my titties some more, don’t you, baby?”

“I do...”

“Let me see you stroke your little clit dick then...go on, do it for me.”

I reach down and stroke my overtly thin shaft between two fingers. It’s uncomfortable but I don’t stop. She is watching me do it, playing with her titties, laughing...

“That’s it little Mikey,” she laughs. “Stroke your tiny dick for mommy...look at my titties and come for me...but don’t touch.”

“Fuck,” I grunt, feeling myself near the edge. The shape of her lips is cruel when she laughs, her white teeth taunting.

“Cum for me and maybe I’ll touch it later,” she says. “Cum like a good little boy for mommy...”

“FUCK!” I stand there in the middle of our hotel suite and shoot cum out onto the carpet. I stare at my

girlfriend’s giant tits as I empty my balls, my ears ringing. I’m not even through my orgasm before she’s stuffing her big fat knockers back into that little red dress.

“That was fun, I guess,” she says, walking away from me. “But I think it’s time for a little roulette. Don’t you think, baby?” Holly says it all as if she didn’t just get done insulting me to my core.

I stuff my pathetic dick back into my underwear, my mind somewhere between outright anger and emasculation. Did she really mean everything she just said? Or did she just think I would like it? Maybe she thinks I’m into humiliation...I’m not, at least I don’t think I am...but maybe she does?

Why would she be so cruel? I don’t have much time to think about the answer to that question. She’s beckoning me forward and I’m following her out of the suite and down the hall and back into the elevator, plummeting twenty floors to the cacophony that is the casino at Caesar’s.

The cling of slots is all around me. The busy bustle of tourists eager to lose their money. Flashing lights and catchy jingles accompany one another. It’s busy. Nearly 9pm on a Friday, and I’m following my girlfriend through rows of machines and card games. I can’t take my eyes off her little ass, the way the skin shows through the red lace just so.

“I’m so impressed with you, baby,” she says, taking my arm. “So spontaneous...so romantic. You really know how to impress a girl, you know that?”

“Thanks, love,” I say, just happy to feel the relief of pleasing her. I feel like the king of Las Vegas with her on my arm, those enormous breasts of hers resting on my scrawny bicep. I relish the gawk and stare of every man and woman we pass, the sheer disbelief on their face that a girl like Holly is holding on to a guy like me. It’s as if what happened upstairs a few minutes ago was just a bad dream.

“Those people staring might think I’m your escort, Michael,” she jokes. “I’m not exactly the classiest girl in here...”

“You’re the most beautiful girl in here. In Nevada. In the world, babe. I mean it.”

We kiss. Things are amazing between us and the joy I feel is warmth emanating from the pit of my stomach. I love this girl. Her beauty, her brilliance, her sheer ability to understand me. It feels like all of the money I’ve spent is more than worth it, even if getting a third job after this trip was inevitable.

We find a game roulette deep within the bowels of the casino and take two empty seats at the edge of table. I’ve got a thousand dollars’ worth of chips that I hand over to Holly; the rest of the money from the cash advance on my credit card.

“My baby’s a high roller,” she whispers in my ear, taking the chips and kissing my cheek at the same time.

The dealer is a tall, squirrely man with a dark mustache and he’s ogling Holly with zero shame in his eyes. There are a few other patrons at the table with us, but I barely notice them because I find it

impossible to take my eyes off the gorgeous woman at my side. Her breasts rest on the edge of the tabletop, easing the load on her back but drawing stares and whispers from everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Go get me a drink, baby,” Holly turns and purses her lips for a kiss.

“Anything you want,” I give her a smooch. “Save my seat?”

“I’ll do my best,” she says, turning her attention back to the table and placing a bet on black.

I leave the table and walk across the casino floor with my head held high. I’m feeling good. Really good. My posture is tall, my hair falls in delicate curls around my shoulders, and I actually feel handsome for once. I suck my gut in and meander over to a large circular bar located amongst a sea of slot machines and blackjack tables. I take my place in line, about six people ahead of me.

“Oh my Gosh is that Phat D?” a girl in front of me exclaims. “Oh my gosh I think it is...”

“No way!” says her friend, just as excited if not more so. Soon every patron at the bar is turning and staring, the bartender, too.

Looking out across the casino the first thing I see, the first thing my eyes are drawn to, is my girlfriend. Holly is sitting at the roulette table in that unforgettable dress, her back is to me, but I can still see the overflow of her massive breasts from behind her lithesome frame.

In my peripheral I see a group of large, hard looking black men cruising the casino floor.

“Well, what do yah know,” I muse. “It is Phat D.”

He leads an entourage of about six men, and the only one bigger than him is who I assume to be his bodyguard. Phat D is tall, tall enough to be an NBA player. His neck is blinged out in chains of gold and even from here I can see the size of the watch on his wrist. There’s this sort of cocky snarl to his face, half a smile and half a warning. The rest of his entourage look straight out of a hip-hop video, and when they smile, I can see the custom grills in their mouth. The giant one, the bodyguard, is dressed in all black. He looks like some sort of ebony assassin, like the kind of guy you absolutely do not want to fuck with.

I’m so enthralled with the sight of them I fail to realize they are b-lining to a specific spot on the casino floor.

“Looks like they’re going to play roulette,” one of the patrons behind me says.

Phat D and crew slow their strut. The come to a sharp stop at a roulette table.

“Looks like they’re going to play more than that,” a girl giggles.

Phat D is sitting down next to a woman in a red dress.

“Holly...” I mutter, my stomach going inside out in the span of time it takes to blink.

His arm is around her. He didn’t even ask. He didn’t even wait. And worse, Holly isn’t shrugging him off. She’s smiling and they’re talking, and I can’t make out the words, but the conversation seems friendly.

Like they’ve known each other for years. Just too fucking friendly.

The line in front of me gets shorter and I get closer to the bar, but my attention is focused on the group of men surrounding my girlfriend. Phat D talks with his hands a lot, and from here it looks like Holly is interested in everything he has to say. Then Holly turns her head and looks out across the casino, looking for something. Someone. Me. She sees me standing at the bar and points, and then Phat D turns his head.

The hip-hop star locks eyes with me. I nod. He tilts his head to the ceiling and erupts into laughter so loud I can hear it from the bar. The rest of his entourage joins in and to my horror, so does Holly. I might be acting paranoid but it sure as hell seemed like they all started laughing the moment they saw me.

My posture slacks, my face beams red. I’ve fallen from the mountain top back into the swamp.

When there is one person left in line in front of me, I see Phat D motion to his bodyguard. He whispers something in his ear, one giant to another, and then the bodyguard is walking across the casino floor, towards me, towards the bar.

I freeze up and turn my back away from him. The person in front of me pays for their drink and leaves. Just as I’m stepping forward to the bar, I feel a massive shadow overtake me, the back of a hand in the center of my chest. The knuckles dig rough into

my skin as the enormous black bodyguard cuts me in line without so much as an ‘excuse me.’

“Six Hennessy and cokes,” the bodyguard tells the bartender, his voice so low it nearly shakes my feet in my shoes.

“Comin’ right up,’ the bartender says, moving about to make the drinks. “Say...is that Phat D over there at the roulette table?”

“Sure is,” the bodyguard smiles. “Looks like he found himself a real prize already, too.”

“I’ll say,” the bartender says. “Every guy in here snapped their head up when that girl walked in. Nicest fucking tits I’ve ever seen...”

“That’s what D said, too,” the bodyguard booms.

I stand there staring at the giant’s back, hoping I’m invisible. They are talking about Holly and its poison in my ears.

“Yeah but did you see the guy she came in with? Real beta looking kid. Has to be her brother or something right?” The bartender shakes his head as he speaks.

“Not so sure about that, my guy. According to her, that sorry looking motherfucker is her boyfriend.”

“No shit!” the bartender says is in disbelief.

“For real for real...but I’m not sure for how much longer. Dig this...” the bodyguard drops his voice but it’s so low the words seem to come out clearer than before, “Phat D told that lil mama’ straight up that her boyfriend is a sissy. A little beta boy who don’t deserve her...he told her he can prove it. So, they made a bet.”

‘No fucking way!” the bartender stops making the drinks and leans over the bar, hanging on to every word.

“They made a damn bet, that if Phat D can prove that white boy a straight sissy bitch, that Phat D gets to fuck that big tittied bitch.”

“She take the bet?”

“She sho’ fuckin’ did,” the bodyguard grins. “She might have been kidding around when she took that bet, but Phat D sho’ as fuck don’t joke around. It’s gonna be an interesting night to say the least...”

My ears are ringing, and my heart is thudding in my chest. They can’t be talking about Holly, can they? They definitely are. Which means they are talking about me. I watch the bodyguard return to the roulette table with the drinks. I’m so stunned I don’t even walk to the bar for my order, and I get cut in line again. The bartender never even glances in my direction.

In a panicked, terrified dream I stumble back across the floor to the roulette table. I can’t get near her. Phat D is in my chair, chatting my girlfriend up and she’s loving it. There are large, black men hovering everywhere and every time I say ‘excuse me’ they don’t listen.

“Holly?” I ask through the crowd, trying to get her attention. “Holly!”

She either doesn’t hear me or is ignoring me, I’m not sure which.

“Holly!” I nearly yell through the ocean of black men separating us. “HOLLY!”

The roulette table goes quiet and suddenly six black heads have turned and are staring at me. Holly looks too, albeit timidly, her cobalt-blue eyes flashing behind her shocked-red hair.

“I’m just trying to get to my girlfriend,” I say meekly. “Excuse me?”

“If it ain’t the little man his self,” Phat D says, his voice a raspy, percussive rhythm. “You must be the luckiest mothafucka’ to eva’ live. I think we need to change that. Tonight.”

“Excuse me?” I’m confused. I’m staring at Holly for some support, but those evil eyes give nothing away.

“Go on and bring the limo around, Gucci,” Phat D nodes to his bodyguard. “And tell them niggas’ at the crib we got somethin’ special planned tonight.” Gucci obeys and leaves the table, stomping off to carry out his boss’s orders. “We goin’ for a little ride, little man,” Phat D slides his tattooed, muscular arm around my girlfriend’s dainty shoulders. “You and yo’ girlfriend is coming with us.”

The entourage chuckles. Holly winks at me.

3.

I’m sitting inside the biggest limousine I’ve ever seen. LED lights line the ceiling and change from purple to red to pink. There is a bar cart fully stocked with champagne and Hennessey, a large well of ice. It looks large enough to fit twenty people but at the moment it’s just me and Holly sitting side by side while we wait for Phat D and the rest of his entourage to join us.

“Don’t look so nervous, Michael,” Holly nudges me. “This is a really cool opportunity to hang with some new people. Make new friends!”

“They definitely want to be friends with you,” I gulp. “I’m not so sure about this, Holly. Did you see the way he was looking at you? The way he was talking to me?”

“So he plays rough,” she sighs. “That’s usually a sign of comradery amongst boys, isn’t it? Besides, I’m your girl, Michael. Nothing is going to change that. Do you really think I would just like, cheat on you with some handsome, famous rap star?”

I don’t know how to answer that.

“Stop it,” she implores. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“His bodyguard said something really weird at the bar,” I whisper. “Something about a bet you made with him...”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” her blue eyes go calm, and she penetrates my soul. “We were just talking, Michael. Are you going to act all jealous and weird now? Are you going to ruin my Vegas trip?”

“No...”

“OK then stop, OK? I’m not in the fucking mood for your insecure bullshit. We’re going out with some new friends and we’re going to have a good time...and if you’re a good boy, well then later when we get home...I’m going to let you have it...”

“You promise?”

She nods cute and quick. The passenger doors open suddenly and Phat D’s entire entourage parades inside the limousine. In the commotion of so many large bodies entering the confined space I am pushed and shoved and relocated. By the time the limo starts to move down the Las Vegas Strip I’m stuck between two beefy black guys I’ve never met, and Holly is at the opposite end, dangerously close to Phat D.

Hip-hop music, bass heavy and loud comes in over the car speakers. Champagne and Hennessey are poured and the constant, masculine chatter of the ebony posse fill the limo.

“Boy you need to scoot yah ass over,” the muscled black man sitting beside me says. He crowds me with his shoulder, shoving me into a man named Tres on my other side.

“Don’t be tryin’ to sit in my lap, sissy,” Tres snarls, shoving back at me.

For a moment I am a frail piece of meat squished between two giant black men...and then my legs cross over one another out of necessity, like a woman needing to pee badly. My knees balance on top of one another and I can feel my testicles gnashing between

my thighs. It’s a sharp pain that starts low and rises into the bottom of my stomach.

I look across the limo at Holly. She’s relaxed, talking to Phat D. A wry smile plays on her lips as she leans back against the plush leather seat, giant tits on display in her red dress.

“Ay yo Phat D!” Tres calls out. “Get a load of this white boy real quick!”

Phat D takes his eyes off my girlfriend’s breasts and glares at me from across the aisle. His scowl turns to a grin, and he chuckles. “Damn this finna’ be easy,” he says. “You see yah little boyfriend over there, girl? Sittin’ like a little lady. Can’t tell me there anything between them legs but an oversized clit. How else he finna’ sit like that?”

Holly covers her mouth and suppresses a giggle as the rest of the car explodes into laughter. She flashes her dazzling blue eyes at me, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to get me to relax or get a rise out of me.

“Shit, this white boy with his long hair and fuckin’ highlights,” Phat D continues, “lookin’ more like a bitch every second. You sure this yo’ boyfriend and not just some fagget from the corner?”

“That’s my boyfriend,” Holly says over the entourage’s guffaws. “He likes his hair long and with...highlights,” she breaks a little, openly laughing at me, “I think it’s...cute...”

“Cute, huh?” Phat D leans back in his seat and stretches his tatted arm over Holly’s shoulders and hugs her close to him. My eyes zero in on the amount of her side-tit resting against his abdomen. “You know

what else be cute for this little bitch? Some fuckin’ makeup. What you think of that? Where’s yah lipstick at girl...”

“Now hold on a sec,” I speak up at last, trying to assert myself with my legs still hopelessly crossed over one another. “I think this has gone far enough, and...” I grimace, the pain of my squished balls intensifying in my lower stomach, “we really like your music, Phat D, but I’m not so sure this is – “

“Shut yo’ white ass up!” Tres growls, digging a stern elbow into my ribs.

“Go on girl get yah makeup out,” Phat D urges. “We all friends here anyway, right? We just playin’ a little. I’m finna’ take yall up to the presidential suite and show you a real good time...if little mans here is so upset about a little lipstick, he can wash it off when we get there.”

Holly digs around in her purse while the two giants to either side of me continue to spread their legs, subsequently driving my own closer together. My nuts feel like they are in a vice and to top it off, I look like an absolute idiot sitting there with my legs crossed.

“Here it is,” she giggles, pulling a tube of red lipstick from her handbag.

“Go on over there and give yah little boyfriend some attention,” Phat D nods. “He look like he need it.”

Holly slides from her seat and sort of crawls down the aisle between the entire entourage’s legs. I’m pretty sure Phat D slapped her ass as she moved

away but I’m so focused by the pain in my balls that I’m not positive. I see Holly’s massive tits come level with my eyes, I see her reaching out to my face with a red-tipped tube of lipstick.

“Hold still, Michael,” she whispers. “It’s all in good fun, right? No...big...deal...”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” the limo is so loud my eardrums feel as if they will burst. The men to either side of me are booming their laughter straight into my head, and everyone else’s is just as deafening. When Holly inches back to look at her work, she starts to laugh, too...and that hurts worst of all.

“Look at this pretty little bitch!” Phat D booms. “Got her legs crossed and her makeup on for a night on the town. I know some hard ass niggas’ that would love a piece of you, baby!”

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

“Your hair looks nice at least,” Holly shrugs at me before moving back to her seat beside Phat D.

I manage to adjust my legs enough so that my petite balls can wedge in underneath my thighs and provide some relief from the flaring pain in my stomach. I can feel the redness in my face burning as bright as the lipstick Holly applied to my mouth. Every time one of his entourage so much as looks at me they bust into helpless, mirthful laughter.

“Look at yah girl, sissy boy,” Tres leans in and whispers in my ear. “See how Phat D be spitting his game at her? She can’t resist that shit. No woman can. And Phat D likes her. He like her and those big

jumbo knockers a whole helluva’ lot. If I were you, I’d be scared. Real fuckin’ scared.”

As he says it, I can see how close Holly and the rapper are sitting. She’s nearly in his lap at this point and he’s got both arms around her. He’s talking close, so close. She lilts her face to the side so he can breathe in her ear, tell her things I can’t hear...all the while Holly just giggles and bites at her plump bottom lip.

I need to get to her. To tell her that this is all a bad idea and has gone far enough. That we should probably get as far from Phat D and his men as we possibly can. But how am I going to do that? There’s an ocean of giant black men between me and her, and the two I sit between haven’t let me move so much as an inch.

“Let’s pull over and hit the club before we head back to the crib,” Phat D announces. “I wanna get my drink and my dance on wit’ lil mama here...” He squeezes my girlfriend to his body, and I can see her tits jiggle and sway. “Tell Gucci to pull the whip over...”

A few minutes later we are parked outside another sprawling casino. The entourage is filing out one at a time but Holly is staying where she is. This is my chance. I keep close behind the last of them(thankful that my nuts are no longer in a vice and also extremely light-headed from the pain), and inch by inch I get closer to where Holly is sitting.

Phat D is still beside her, but one gangster is easier to confront than six. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. This is it.

“Holly baby,” I start, reaching out to touch her knee even though she is all but in Phat D’s lap by now, “I think it’ s best if we head out –“

“HAHAHAHA!” the moment she sees my face she squeals with laughter. She’s pointing at me. At the lipstick. At my humiliation.

“Look at this sissy ass white boy!” Phat D claps his hands together, head back and guffawing along with my girlfriend.

“I’m sorry baby,” Holly cries tears of joy, “you just look so silly!”

I try to speak but they drown me out. Phat D takes Holly’s hand and leads her up and out of the limousine. In a panic I try to follow them but am met at the exit by Phat D’s cruel hand wrapping around my shirt collar.

“The fuck you think you goin’ white boy?” he growls in my face.

“To the club,” I answer meekly. “With my girlfriend...”

“Shit,” he chuckles. “You really be dumb as fuck, huh sissy boy? Tell you what. You can come into the club. I got a VIP table and bottles and every fuckin’ drug under the sun. Gonna be a real good time...and you invited, too. But first you gotta change for me, you can’t be walkin’ up in the club lookin’ like that.”

Outside, I hear the trunk of the limo open. Then it slams shut. A moment later Gucci, the bodyguard, is standing beside Phat D. He’s holding a garment bag.

“Now I gots an outfit I think gon’ look real good on yo punk ass...and I’ll just be straight up wit’ yah,

you ain’t leavin’ the fuckin’ limo till you put it on...now Imma’ go inside the club and dance wit’ yah girl, maybe feel on them big fat fuckin’ titties, know what I mean? Once you get yah outfit on, Gucci here will make sure you get in just fine...and don’t even think about takin that fuckin’ lipstick off, sissy boy.”

Gucci tosses the black garment bag at me and a moment later the door of the limo slams shut.

“Don’t take all day!” I hear Phat D yell from outside. “And make sure you wear all of it!”

With my heart throbbing in my ears, I lay the garment bag along the floor of the limousine and grab hold of the zipper at the top. I yank it down. I open the bag.

I stare at the outfit Phat D wants me to wear...I stare at the accoutrements that go with it...tears well in my eyes, sliding down my cheeks one salty drop at a time.

3.

Gucci pulls me from the limousine and he’s barely able to contain himself. He hoots laughter in short spurts, goes quiet, then hoots again. He averts his eyes from me, the only way he can keep his mirth under control.

“Follow me, little lady,” he grins.

He leads me through the casino entrance and onto the floor. We walk by rows and rows of slot machines and then onto the card tables. Most people are too wrapped up in their games to notice me, but I catch some people looking...mostly laughing or grabbing their buddy to point out the weirdo walking through the casino.

Then we’re moving down a long corridor inside the hotel, all the way to two giant double oak doors with a sign above them reading Players Night Club. There is a bouncer outside checking ideas, and a long line of people waiting to get in.

Gucci walks to the front of the line and I follow.

“List for Phat D,” Gucci tells the bouncer, “This little whore is with me.”

The bouncer looks past the towering black man and right into my face. He knows. He struggles to contain his hilarity as he pulls aside the velvet rope and lets Gucci and I into the nightclub.

Passing through those double doors is like entering into a different world. Everything is dark and blue in the club, music blaring and people dancing. Lights strobe across the floor and ceiling, the clink of

cocktails and the heat of bodies move in time to the music.

I’m shaking all over, beyond humiliated at what Phat D has forced me to wear.

Gucci proceeds to parade me right through the center of the club, his hand gripping firm on the back of my neck.

“Make way! Make way!” Gucci shouts as we pass through throngs of club goers. “Make way for the sissy bitch! Make way for this weak little boy!”

I try to shake his hand off my neck but it’s no use, he steers me easy as an old dog on a leash. Up ahead I can see an elevated stage, a VIP area roped off in black velvet. Large, ebony shapes move around in the dim light, and I catch a glimpse of a red lace dress amongst all that blackness.

“Holly,” I whisper, and suddenly I feel like running. I want to get out of here before she sees me like this...sees me wearing this thing...

“This way, bitch boy,” Gucci’s deep voice in my ear. I struggle against him in one final attempt to flee but he just shoves me onto the elevated stage where calloused black hands grab hold of me and pull me ever deeper into their twisted web.

“Well ain’t this a mothafucka’,” Phat D steps forward, bottle of champagne in his hand. I’m standing in the middle of them all and I can feel their eyes burning holes into my outfit, hear their disgusting laughter as they degrade me. “Hey yo, white girl!” Phat D calls over his shoulder. “Come get a look at Las Vegas’s newest sissy bitch!”

My stomach goes sick as Holly emerges from behind Phat D. Her face is different somehow, drunk and possibly stoned, and her lacey red dress is unkempt...as if the front of it had been rifled with.

Holly sees me standing there but it takes a moment for the confusion to leave her face, for her to realize it’s me, her boyfriend. Michael.

“Holy shit!” she screams. “No way! Hahahahaha!”

And now they all point and laugh, howling to the heavens, feeding on my shame.

I tug at the puffy hem of the little blue dress I’m wearing. It comes to about halfway down my thighs, layered and flowing and scrunchy. It has white lace along the bottom, and matching blue sleaves that run down my scrawny arms and wrinkle up at my wrists. The top is an array of layers and luscious folds, with an open bare chest that has a little blue bow tied just below my neck.

The low-cut top is important because, well, inside that garment bag back in the limousine were two massive, silicone breasts...and Gucci wouldn’t let me out of the car until I’d put them both on.

So, I’m standing there with breasts very near the size of my own girlfriend’s, in an overtly feminine dress, being laughed at by the woman I love...

“HAHAHAHA!” I’ve never seen her lose it like this before. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Would you look at this sissy ass white boy!” Phat D cries. “Cute makeup, bitch!”

I’m the center of attention in my Disney princess dress with my huge fake tits. I can feel them circling me, giving me no way to leave when it is all I desire.

“Dressed like a little fucking whore if you ask me,” one of the entourage says. “You think this sissy bitch every sucked black dick before?”

“Always a good day to start,” says Tres, the black man from earlier. They are crowding close to me, too close. Their strong frames are bumping into me, and I can’t stand my ground in the red heels latched to my feet. I fall over, landing on my knees...

“Oh damn look like she ready now!” Phat D screams.

“How bout it baby you ever suck dick before?” Tres steps in and I can feel him rubbing his crotch on the top of my head...something warm moving below...

I scramble back to my feet terrified.

“This is enough!” I scream, tears in my eyes. But no one can take me seriously.

Holly steps forward, her bright blue eyes all over the place. She takes a lock of my long brown hair in her hands and twists it between her fingers.

“I always knew you were a little sissy, Michael,” she says. “And you’ve got the tiny little dick to prove it, too.”

“How could you?” I ask her. “After all I’ve done...this trip was for you...we were supposed to have sex...”

“You hear this white bitch?” Phat D jokes to his crew. “She ain’t even let him hit it!”

“Do you have panties on under there, Michele?” Holly continues. “I bet you do...I bet they hold your little white dick perfectly...”

“Stop it, Holly...why are you doing this?”

“Stop doing what, Michele? Why would I get in the way of you being who you really are...don’t run from it, little sissy. Embrace it...”

“Do you still love me?” I ask her, shaking.

“Aww, Michele. Of course, I do...but if this relationship means as much to you as you say it does, then I need you to cooperate. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? So stop fighting it...stop fighting it for me...”

Phat D’s ginormous hands wrap around Holly from behind, engulfing her monstrous tits and squeezing over the dress. His head comes to her shoulder, and she leans into him. He stares me in the eyes as he feels up my girlfriend.

“Get this slut a drink,” Phat D nods at me. “And any man here who need to be serviced, well, shit...she gon’ service you.”

This declaration is met with cheers from his entourage, and I watch my girlfriend disappear with Phat D into the crowd. The rest of the men are on me, shoving a drink in my hand, cracking a popper under my nose...screaming at me to snort it.

I do.
I’m gone.

4.

The drugs and the alcohol come at me fast, and there is a period of time where I black out completely. When I come to, I’m still in the VIP section of the club, but the one named Tres has me on my knees behind a low-top table. He’s got his hands filled with my long brown hair and he’s shaking me back and forth.

“Look at the little sissy slut,” he barks. “Come to the club to get some black dick I bet...”

I think about Holly and where she might be. The last image I have of her is in Phat D’s arms, their mouths colliding...

“I got just the black cock you looking for, slut,” Tres digs into the waist band of his jeans and pulls out the biggest penis I’ve ever seen. It hangs low over the front of his pants, black and fat and dangling. “Now open yah little sissy mouth and suck what I give you to suck...”

“You know that’s right!” says another homie standing nearby.

“Open up bitch!” calls another.

“She look excited about it,” the familiar bass of Gucci’s voice.

Tres has me by a handful of hair, pulling my head back and lifting his big black cock into the air.

“Say ah, bitch,” he commands. And then he’s slapping me in the face with it. I close my eyes and grimace, shutting my mouth tight and trying to avoid it even though there is nowhere to go. “Why you runnin’, sissy? Why the fuck you runnin’?”

I can smell his giant dick, the light sweat of his nuts. The little pubic hairs along his shaft tickly my chin as he presses his mushroom head directly against my pursed lips.

“Open the fuck up, sissy bitch,” he says. “Or I’ll walk you over to your little girlfriend and fuck you in the ass right in front of her...”

My mouth opens instinctively, something about the tone of his voice seemed to say he wasn’t bluffing. Fat black cock invades my tongue and cheeks. He presses it deep to the back of my throat. I’m sucking cock.

“That’s it white bitch,” he grunts, fucking my mouth. “Open up for yah new black daddy. I know you fuckin’ love it...”

“Urrrg,” I gargle against his meat. “AWK!” I gag.

“You look so pretty suckin’ that black cock, baby,” Tres continues. “Pretty little white girl lips. Mmmm. You ain’t nothin’ but a little fuckin’ bitch now ain’t you baby...”

“AWK! AWK!” I gag into his meat. The other men nearby are laughing at me...or maybe waiting their turn, it’s hard to tell. He plays with my giant fake breasts, and I drip drool down onto the pretty blue dress I’ve been forced to wear.

I stop struggling. I take it.

“That’s it, sissy. That’s it,” Tres encourages me, fucking my face.

I can feel how fucked up I am. How suddenly drunk I’ve become, and my nose stings like maybe I’ve had some cocaine. My throat is numb, and Tres takes

advantage of that fact, bottoming out deep in my gullet, feeding me his big black cock.

In my peripheral I see red lace.

“Wow,” Holly giggles, walking over to where I kneel with a man’s cock lodged in my throat. “You’re really good at this huh, Michelle?” she bends down, and my eyes fall on her disheveled tits as Tres wrecks my face. “You like that big cock down your throat, baby? I bet you do...I’m a little jealous actually. But Phat D says he’s got all I can handle back at his suite. He got the presidential, unlike your broke ass who couldn’t even get a spa in the room...”

I want to answer but Tres doesn’t let me.

“That’s it, Michelle. Suck that big black cock. I bet your little clit is so fucking hard right now. Should we check?” Holly reaches down under my dress. She presses her palm to the pink panties I’m wearing and feels my painful erection there. “Yep. Just like I thought. You’re a little sissy fagget for black cock!”

“UGH!” Tres grunts, cumming in mouth. “UGH! UGH!” I gag and try to spit it up but there’s nowhere for it go, so I swallow. Shot after shot of his thick, goopy load fills my mouth and I take it back. “UGH! That’s it white bitch! Fucking drink it all!”

The taste of cum hangs in the back of my throat when he pulls out. Phat D, Gucci, Tres and all the others explode into laughter and insults as I kneel there trying to catch my breath. Suddenly another popper is under my nose, and I know better than to say no, so I snort it back.

The limousine ride to Phat D’s hotel is a blur. I can see multiple men with their hands on a girl in red lace, grabbing and squeezing, drawing tiny little gasps from her open mouth. Men keep pulling on my hair, telling me what a pretty little slut I am. It’s weird. I feel weird. Without really being aware of it, the limousine parks and the entourage is moving up, up and up and up in an elevator. I can hear her giggling...

The Presidential Suite is massive. There’s a sprawling balcony with a pool and a vast view of the Las Vegas Strip. There is large, lumbering black men everywhere, too many to count. Hip-hop music blares. I’m in the living room sitting on a man’s lap. His name is Donte . I don’t remember how I know that.

Donte has his hand around my throat. I feel small under his grasp, and I can feel something heavy and hard pushing at my bottom through his jeans.

“They really made you a sissy bitch in a couple of hours, huh?” Donte looks at me like a piece of meat. “Pathetic ass white boy. I hear you suck good dick though.”

Phat D stomps into the living room with his arm around Holly. She smirks at me, and I can tell she’s very drunk. Something evil lurks in her bright blue stare.

“I made you a bet, didn’t I white girl?” Phat D asks Holly, observing me in Donte’s lap.

“You sure did, baby,” Holly slurs.

“Told you yo mans was a straight sissy bitch. And I could prove it. Proved it, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Holly says. “He looks like a little sissy bitch. But does he act like one?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Donte – what you think?”

“I think we should find out,” Donte grumbles, tightening his hold on my thin neck. “Maybe I take your little boy-pussy right here on the floor...in front of everybody...”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Michele?” Holly giggles.

I try to speak but it’s difficult with Donte’s bear paw around my throat. I try to tell Holly that it’s gone to far, this has all gone too far...

“Well, Michele?” Holly’s voice gets bitchy and stern. “Answer me little bitch. Do you want Donte to break your little sissy asshole in?” She reaches out and gnashes my mouth in her fingers, bringing her face in close and penetrating my very soul with her crystal blue gaze.

“Yes...” I choke out. I lie. Why did I say that? I wanted to say no but the way she looked at me...like she would leave me...

They stand me up in front of everyone at the party, too many faces to count looking on at my humiliation. Holly grabs the front of my pretty blue dress and lifts it up over my face. The sound of thirty-plus people laughing at my genitals is something I never expected to hear in my life. I feel Holly flick at it with cruel fingers.

“Look at the sissy’s little clit!” Holly cries.

Then they’ve got me down on the cold tile floor, on my hands and knees. Donte is behind me lifting my

dress up and shoving it up over my waist. He pauses a moment to grab a handful of my giant, fake silicon tits over the dress. Then he’s tearing my little pink panties off...

“I made little Holly here a bet, white boy,” Phat D announces, and I look up and see them at the couch only a few feet away. My girlfriend is sitting between Phat D and Gucci, and they’ve each got one of her giant football-sized titties in their grasp. “I bet your girl that I could prove you was a sissy bitch...that you was a little cuck white boy who wanted to be turned out by black men...and shit, it only took a few hours.”

Laughter rolls across the room like a tidal wave. Gucci and Phat D pull Holly’s dress down at the front and her ginormous, hanging breasts are exposed to everyone. Just as Phat D takes one in his mouth to suck, I feel Donte spreading my asscheeks.

“I couldn’t help it, baby,” Holly moans, her entire body being groped and fondled. “When Phat D and I met a few years ago, I always dreamed of when I’d be able to see him again...when you said we were going to Vegas, well, I knew he had a residency here...all I had to do was text him...”

“Been too long since I put this pussy on my dick,” Phat D stands, reaching into his waistband and removing a massively thick, low-hanging black cock. “But first I gotta get me some of that good top...”

I’m trying to digest what Holly just said. That this whole thing was a setup. That I’d been played like a fiddle. But all thoughts of betrayal are erased from my mind when Donte spits onto my virgin asshole and

begins to press the tip of something far too big against it.

“Oh fuck,” I grunt.

Gucci and Phat D are standing over Holly as she sits on the couch topless. The men’s pants are at their ankles and Holly holds each of their giant black cocks in her hands. She’s stroking them close to her mouth as she speaks to me.

“You’re such a nice guy...well, you were such a nice guy, Michele...but you know as well as I do that little, tiny dicked white boys don’t deserve girls like me. Sure, you’re a good kisser. You give amazing head. But so do lots of girls...”

Holly opens her supple mouth and takes Phat D’s leaking tip against her tongue. She sucks him in front of me.

“Holly, noooo...” I moan, starting to feel the pain knocking at my backdoor.

“Hold still, sissy bitch,” Donte grunts from behind.

The rest of the party looks on at the scene unfolding in the living room. Even though I can feel a hundred eyes on me the only ones that really matter are Holly’s. And her blue orbs are getting distracted with the task at hand, as Phat D begins to fuck her face.

“That’s it white girl, open up yah throat,” Phat D says, his hands filled with her two-toned, red and pink and blonde hair. “You suck just as good as I remember!”

“WHECKA!” Holly gags against the massive black meat in her throat. “WHECKA! WHECKA WHECKA!”

As I watch my girlfriend’s gullet get absolutely pummeled, Donte applies more force. In the span of less than a second my asshole goes from some discomfort to blinding pain, and I scream out at the top of my lungs.

Donte pushes his big black cock inside of me. “OHHHH!” I wail.
“Hold still, sissy bitch,” he grunts. “OHHHH!” I feel it go deeper.

“White bitch look like he like it,” a voice from the crowd mutters.

“There we go,” Donte spits again, rubbing it at the entrance to my butthole. “Just like that...”

Donte’s in my ass and he’s starting to grind, the pain is all encompassing but there is something else there too...something that seems to grow the more I relax...that familiar pain aches where my little dick strains to get hard.

“Good little white bitch,” Donte says, taking me by the hips and fucking me. “Good little white boy pussy...”

Holly is busy trying to deepthroat Gucci’s glistening cock when Phat D pulls her off of it and turns her exasperated, drooling face towards me.

“Look at yah sissy boyfriend, baby,” Phat D whispers in her ear. “Look at her take black cock like a good little bitch.”

“Oh wow,” Holly giggles, her plump lips slick with spit. “Why am I not surprised. You gonna rub your little clitty while he fucks you, Michele?”

I just moan in response, trying my best to handle the pain radiating through my ass.

“Tell me you want to rub your little clitty,” Holly says, standing from the floor and peeling her dress off with the help of the black men beside her.

I hesitate, afraid to speak, too embarrassed. Donte leans forward and chokes me from behind, flexing his massive cock inside the walls of my asshole. I scream out. He uses his other hand to squeeze my giant fake breast.

“She gave you an order, little bitch,” Donte whispers viciously in my ear. “Now do it.”

“I want to rub my little clitty!” I screech, writhing on the ground as Donte plows me.

Holly lies down on the couch, on her back. Her monstrous tits cover most of her midsection, and she spreads her legs to reveal a small, tucked pink cunt. As Phat D spreads her legs, she looks over at me and smiles.

“Rub your little clitty while Donte fucks you, Michele. Show everyone what a good little sissy you are!” Holly’s wild laughter turns to a sharp gasp as Phat D pushes his monster cock inside her tiny little cunt. “OH!”

I’m watching Phat D thrust into Holly, watching him grab hold of her palatial tits and squeeze and slap them...and I’m starting to jerk the little dick between my legs, too. It kills me to see her used that way, and

it hurts to my have asshole pounded by a giant black man, and it even hurts to jerk off...but something is happening inside of me that I can’t explain, and I feel myself submitting to them.

“Tight fuckin’ white boy pussy,” Donte slaps my ass. “Just how I like it!”

“UGH!” I grunt, jerking off. “OH!”

On the couch, several other black men have gathered pant-less around my wife’s moaning face. They take turns feeding her cock from the side as Phat D gets his fill. I can see the rapper’s bloated, black ballsack slapping into her asscrack with every pump. I can see the way the pink walls of her sex grip his ungodly girth.

A man I’ve never seen before, broad and black with a teardrop tattoo under his right eye, walks over and gets on his knees in front of me. This makes me just at eye level with the long, veiny ebony cock he pulls out of his zipper.

“Get my dick ready for yah wife, sissy,” the stranger grumbles, shoving his meat into my mouth. “Good little bitch,” he sighs. “Suck that big black cock!”

He fucks my face while Donte fucks my ass. From the corner of my eye, I can see them on the couch, flipping Holly over, taking turns on her soaked-wet cunt, berating her monster-tits with grabs and slaps and spit. I can hear her gagging when they fuck her mouth. Sometimes, when the stranger lets me up for air, I can see her rubbing her clit, bringing herself to climax over and over.

“This little sissy-hole gonna make me cum,” Donte says from behind. “But I want yah big-tittied girlfriend to see it...drag this little piece of sissy meat over there!”

Donte pulls out of my ass for the first time in fifteen minutes and I fall over immediately. I feel changed down there, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. They’re pulling me by the hair over to where a train is being run on my girlfriend. Donte puts me on my knees next to the couch, and I fix my dress so that it isn’t so messy.

The stranger, the one I was sucking, tags another man out and proceeds to shove his massive cock inside my girlfriend from behind. He plows her savagely. Phat D is up front at her face, using her mouth, grunting, and going deep inside her throat.

When he sees me kneeling there like a good girl he pulls out and turns her face to mine.

“I saw you take that big black cock like a good little girl,” Holly breathes. “You liked it, didn’t you Michele?”

“Yes, baby...I did...” I say it low and shameful. “Good girl. Now open wide.”
I’m not sure what she means until Donte is

yanking me back by the hair, pulling my messy face in line the fat black mushroom tip of his cock. He jerks off my in my face. He grunts.

I feel the hot, steaming splash of his nut as it blinds me.

“Open yah fuckin’ mouth,” Donte barks. I do as he says and taste him, thick and slow and warm. It

pools on my tongue. He unloads on my face one shot at a time, grunting with each spurt. I can hear Holly floating between laughter and moans as she watches my humiliation.

When Donte finishes, he wipes the cum from my eyes with his fingers, then shoves those same fingers into my mouth. I swallow with a grimace. I open my eyes and look around. Holly is on her back again, except this time she’s on the floor beside me. Phat D is fucking her, threatening to fill her pussy. About five other men are jerking off around her splayed body, aiming for tits and face.

“You gonna watch, little sissy?” Holly pants up at me, rubbing her clit. “Gonna watch me take their fucking cum?”

“Yes, Holly,” I say, Donte’s load hanging in my hair.

“Good little sissy bitch...”

It all starts when Phat D goes ball deep, announcing to everyone that he’s filling her pussy. One by one the line of long, fat black cocks surrounding Holly’s body explode with fat white ropes of cum. They drench her. Those gorgeous tits that I worship; covered. That fragile little neck; covered. Her innocent, pouty face; smothered. And then those piercing blue eyes disappear as she closes them, blinded by the force and weight of their nut juice.

“Ughhhh, all over them titties!” one shakes himself out on her.

“Good fucking white girl, take that nut!” Donte exclaims.

“All in yah fuckin’ face! UGH!”
“Ohhh that’s it baby...”
“I’m balls deep, bitch!” Donte hollers.
Their words ring in my ears as they use my

girlfriend like a cum dumpster. For a moment I forget I’m dressed in a sissy outfit with a sore asshole. For a moment all I can see is the love of my life completely defiled from head to toe.

And all I can think is, I hope she’s happy. THE END