My Faithless Fiance! by Throne (Patreon)

My Faithless Fiance!

by Throne

© 2019-2035 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.

MY FAITHLESS FIANCE by Throne

I had been engaged to Cassie for several weeks. Everything was going along smoothly. It was hard for me to believe my good luck. How did short and unimpressive Felton Fern end up with such a girl? She was tall and voluptuous, with flowing blond hair and sparkling azure eyes. When we met online, I downplayed the considerable amount of family money I had come into the previous year, when I turned 21. She did ask a few pointed questions about my finances but I assured myself that she was more interested in my hobbies, which included science fiction and superhero movies, comic books, and bubblegum music. Not only did we plan to get married but she even moved into my modest suburban home. The only drawback with that was that Cassie insisted on saving herself sexually until we tied the knot. I liked

the idea that she was old-fashioned in that attitude, but it wasn't easy to be in her proximity so much without being able to do anything to relieve my urges. Well, there was one thing I could do, which was to play with my dick, but I sure didn't want to get caught doing that. Which brings me to one other relevant matter. What's between my legs is, to put it charitably, below average. Back in school, when I had to be in the locker room, my penis was called peanut, pea pod and shrimp. I convinced myself that such a shortcoming would not alter Cassie's love for me, though doubts still lurked deep in my mind.

One evening, when I was sitting on the couch, watching STAR FLASH for the umpteenth time (the extended version of the movie), she came into the room wearing a scowl. She was wearing very little else. All Cassie had on was a top that consisted of three overlapping rows of ruffled material on an elastic band, and a matching item around her waist. Her thrusting bust was barely covered, and her wide hips stretched the lower garment to its limits. But why did she appear so angry? Usually, she was a study in contentment, like when she returned from shopping at the mall, laden with packages, or after she had received one of the online orders that frequently showed up on the front porch. Now,

however, there were two vertical lines between her expressive eyebrows and her full lips were made over by a frown.

"Um, hi, honey," I said to test her mood.

"Don't act all cute with me," she said coldly. "And turn off that silly movie."

"It's not silly," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice level. "Many critics thought it was..."

"Cut the crap, Felton. We need to talk."

Long story short, she had delved into my past on the computer, specifically my school days. With the help of an electronic copy of my yearbook, she found the names of several classmates and located their pages on Face Chat, where she exchanged messages with them.

"Why did you have all those insulting nicknames back in school? And how come you told me you were on the football team when you never joined it?"

"Those nicknames were just for fun. And while I wasn't technically a member of the team, I was... err... in charge of their uniforms."

"In other words, everyone laughed at you and you were the towel boy for a bunch of jocks."

"You could look at it that way, but it was more like..."

"I don't want to hear what you say it was like. I contacted two former students who graduated the same year as you. They're coming to pay a visit."

"Uh... when?"

"In about two hours. You can wash the dishes in the sink and then give the bathroom a quick cleaning."

"But... but..."

"I don't want you to mess up your clothes, so just strip down before you start."

"Naked?"

"Yeah. Even your underwear." Her compelling eyes had turned icy.

"Um... yes, dear."

I was so taken aback by her change in demeanor that I did what she said, out of her sight. It was strange to be in my own kitchen without a stitch of anything on. Cassie came and took an apron off the hook where it was hanging. It was a small impractical one, without a bib-front. She got behind me, to put it around my waist. Her heavy boobs pressed warmly into my bare back, which made my penis tingle. I had been too long without release, not having jerked off for over a week. My fiancé made a big bow with the ties

and it brushed against my uncovered bottom. At least she still hadn't seen my short appendage. I got busy with the dishes while she went to get herself dressed. Who had she asked to stop by? I figured it would be a couple of the girls. What had they already revealed, and was that part of the reason she was miffed with me? I got the dishes done and headed for the bathroom to clean there. Maybe if I did an extra good job, it would settle her down. The apron was shameful, but it was better than having my small genitals and downy pubic hair on display. Did I mention that I have tiny balls to go along with my miniature dick?

At last, I was done. I wanted to get back into my clothes. That was when Cassie reappeared. My eyes went wide and my mouth dropped open. All she had on was a belly shirt with the word EASY printed across the front in bold letters, and a pair of tight mini-shorts that showed off what I think is called a 'camel toe'. Oh, gosh. What sort of impression would that look make on the girls who were coming? I was trying to get over that shock when there was a loud knock on the front door. When I tried to flee deeper into the house, she grabbed me by my upper arm and dug her fingers into my unimpressive bicep.

I yelped, "OW!"

"Answer the door," she commanded. "Like this?"

"Nobody's going to see anything... much. You can get dressed after that."

"I'm not... This isn't..."

My shoulders sagged and I went to the door, nervously smoothing down the front of the apron. The thought of having girls from my class see me like that was unnerving. I opened the door and was startled to see not females, but a pair of former football players. It was Stash and Buster, the top quarterback and best receiver. They were tall, broad-shouldered, square-jawed... and Black. I involuntarily took a step back and tripped over my own feet. Landing on my butt, I was momentarily stunned. The two of them grinned down at me.

"Hey, hey," said Stash.

"Look at that," added Buster. "Peanut never had a growth spurt." "Sure didn't. He's still the size of a peapod."

How could they know that? I belatedly realized that the apron had ridden up when I landed. My undersized male parts were shown off to their mocking gazes. I hurriedly tugged down the uncooperative material and held it there.

Stash planted his big shoe on my sternum. "You got our towels washed, laundry boy?"

Buster put his footwear between my legs, dangerously close to my vulnerable essentials. "Or do we have to make you wear a dirty jockstrap over your head, with your nose in the cock-pocket, like we used to do?"

Cassie acted like nothing odd was going on. She told them, "You'll have to excuse my husband. Felton got behind on his housework and didn't leave himself time to get dressed."

"That's okay. We used to make him stay bare-assed in the locker room."

"And sometimes we'd toss him out, while the cheerleaders were going by."

"I see," said Cassie, eyeing me critically. "Those are some of the secrets he's been hiding from me. I'm so glad you fellows could come over and fill me in on all the stuff he wasn't honest enough to tell me about."

"No problem," said Stash. "We'll be glad to fill you in." "Happy to do it," agreed Buster.

The two of them ogled my bride-to-be appreciatively. They stepped over me and followed Cassie, making no effort to hide how they were checking out her rolling rump.

She told me firmly, "Get your old friends some beers, Felton." "We don't have any."

She sighed theatrically. "I had a few sixpacks of a good brand delivered earlier. Also, some red wine, which is chilled, so you can pour me a glass of that."

I said, "Just give me a minute to put on my pants and shirt."

"No," she told me flatly. "I'll give you a minute to fetch our drinks."

"Right," said Stash. "Step and fetch them."

"Move that ass, boy," Buster told me, with a smirk on his dark face.

I got up clumsily and headed for the kitchen. Golly. My rear end was exposed for all to see. I put two beer bottles and a filled wineglass on a serving tray and went to the living room, where Cassie was sitting between the two footballers. She was laughing, I guessed at something they had just said.

She fixed me with her eyes. "You totally misrepresented yourself to me, Fenton."

"Sure did," Stash agreed. "Like not telling her how you always were mean to us, because you knew we couldn't say anything."

Buster finished for him, "Telling anybody could have got us thrown off the team."

"That's awful," Cassie said hotly to me, "how you bullied these two."

"You know," Stash went on, "I think it was his way of flirting with us."

"It was," Buster seconded. "We figured out he was one of those types that don't really know he wants cock." He turned to Cassie. "Sorry to say it so plain."

"No, no," she told him. "What's important is that I find out who my intended actually is, before I commit to a lifetime with him."

"Sure thing," Stash told her. "Him being a virgin, he might not know what to do on the wedding night."

Buster offered, "Might even make a move on the room service guy, when he delivers to the honeymoon suite."

I was left speechless. What were they talking about? Cassie put a hand on Stash's muscular thigh. His tight pants showed off a long ridge that I knew was his exceptionally large penis.

The quarterback barked at me, "What are you looking at?" Without thinking, I said, "Just your bulge."

"Holy crap," Cassie exclaimed. "Fenton is checking out your junk, with me sitting right here." Her other hand went to Buster, who was equally well equipped.

Buster put his hand atop hers. "It's a freaking shame for you to be hooked up with a guy who's a virgin and a sissy too."

"I suppose I could ditch him," she considered.

"What?" I dared to move closer. "You can't do that. We're nearly married."

"Whoa," said Stash. "Now he's trying to tell you what you can and can't do. Pretty pushy for a pansy boy."

"Especially one wearing an apron," concluded Buster. He stood up. "I'm going to have to take that off you, Peanut, to help you remember your place."

He spun me around, grabbed one of the ties, and yanked. All at once, the apron fell to the floor.

Cassie got her first look at my three-piece set. "OMG, there's barely anything there. It's not a cock. More like an extra finger."

When I bent forward to retrieve the apron, Buster pushed his knee against my tail end, tipping me over, so that I landed on all fours, with my head between Stash's knees.

"Jeez," said the guy next to Cassie. "Now he's trying to get his mouth on my Johnson."

"I..." It was all happening too fast. "I wasn't..."

Cassie cut me off with, "Don't call my new friend a liar, Fenton. Or maybe, now that I know about your sexual kinks, your name should be..." She pursed her lips. "... Felicia."

"Haw!" Stash threw back his head to let out that single laugh. "Fellicia who wants to give us fellatio. He obviously has it bad for BBC."

"What's that?" my future wife wanted to know. "The British TV network?"

"It's Big Black Cock, which is what Buster and me have."

"Oh. I see." She nodded to herself. "Just for comparison's sake, now that I've seen what Felicia has, maybe I could be given a peek at those BBCs. You know, so I'd have a better idea of how little I'm getting stuck with. Or what I won't let him stick into me." She chuckled at her wordplay. "Would that be too much to ask, guys?"

"Hell, no," declared Stash. "Anything for the girl in Felicia's life."

"And I know he wants a look, too," Buster assured her. "Might be a good way to test his SQ."

"What's that?" my fiancé queried.

"His Sissy Quotient," explained Buster. "See how he acts when there's some dark meat right in front of him, close enough to smell... and taste, if he wants to."

Cassie bounced up and down on the sofa, making her bust bob under its inadequate covering. "Yes. Give Fenton the test. I mean, give it to Felicia."

"Oh, we can give it to her," Buster guaranteed. "If you don't mind seeing the princess get down and dirty."

Buster put himself back on the sofa. I was close enough that he could reach out, grab my hair, and drag me away from Stash and closer to himself. Much closer. My nose was nearly touching his crotch. Instead of being concerned, Cassie observed with interest. I noticed that her hand was now on that enviable lump in Stash's pants.

Letting go of my hair, Buster leaned down. At the same time, Stash pulled Cassie closer and aligned his mouth with hers. To my distressed surprise, she closed her eyes and parted her plump lips. He brought his face to hers and suddenly they were kissing. While she was distracted, Buster whispered hoarsely into my ear, "If you don't go the whole sissy distance on my tool, I'm going to hurt your balls so bad that you won't never be able to stop being a virgin." He stood up. When Cassie's attention was back on me, Buster said, "Get to it, hot-lips. Live up to that Felicia Fellatio name."

Sick to my stomach, I lowered his zipper, undid his belt, and opened the single button at his waist. That allowed me to begin lowering his pants. Soon I was face-to-fly with a pair of boxer shorts. My trembling fingers gripped the waistband and worked them down. I did it slowly, to postpone the inevitable. His threat to my testicles kept me going. Buster's heavy member was revealed, long and thick, adorned with ropey veins, with an impressively big head. I gagged at the thought of how it would gag me. He patted the top of my head.

"Go on now, Miss Fellatio," he encouraged. "You know you've wanted to do this since our locker room days. I remember how

you would pick a spot in the showers for the best views of the most cocks, especially the Black ones."

No, no, no. It was all lies. Wasn't it? I certainly didn't want to use my mouth on him. Did I? With my sexy fiancé watching avidly, I touched his superior organ. After I gave it a few strokes, it was standing up. It had gotten so much bigger. When I looked to Cassie for help, Stash had his arm around her and one dark hand on her barely covered boob. She was making no effort to discourage his fondling. I stuck out my tongue and gave the underside of Buster's rod a long lick, from root to head. Then, naked and afraid, I got my lips around the knob and sucked. He held onto my hair and moved my head up and down, forcing me to take in another two inches, which proved to be my limit. I made faint choking sounds. When he let go, I passively continued to use the rhythm he had set, not fast enough to rush him to an ejaculation. From the corner of my eye, I saw Cassie pull up that minimal top she wore, to free her melon breasts. Stash brought his head down and fastened his mouth on the nearest nipple. While he sucked her tit, I continued sucking Buster's business.

"Hey, Felicia," said the guy I was going down on. "Give my Johnson a rest and lick my balls, like a good sissy."

That drew my fiancé's attention back to me. I humiliated myself by tilting up Buster's king-size cock and lapping his plums. When I returned to his cock, there was a drop of clear fluid leaking from it, which I had to tongue up. As I resumed his BJ, the woman I loved reached over and gripped the shaft. She began to stroke it up and down. I was horrified.

She wanted to know, "What's the matter, Felicia? I'll bet you pump that teeny weenie of yours. Don't you?"

I was too intimidated to prevaricate, and nodded while still fellating Buster. He laughed at the sight that made.

Cassie summarized, "So I'm engaged to a virgin who's a sissy and has a pea pod in place of a prick. He's no good for sex, so that makes it okay for me to do whatever I please, with whoever I choose." She broke away from handling Buster to help Stash free his rod. Then she got a hand on each of them, to jerk both off at once. It was the most-obscene sight I could imagine, and yet something about it was getting me stiff. What? Was I as much of a freak as the jocks had suggested, and as my darling now

believed? She began to manipulate Buster faster. His breathing accelerated. Oh no! She was going to make him come in my mouth.

"I'm going to bust my nut," he said between deep inhalations.

True to his prediction, Buster spurted gobs of cream. I glugged down as much as I could, but some still leaked from the corners of my mouth. He sighed, rose to his feet, and dragged me up into a standing posture.

"Holy crud!" my wife yelped. "My hubby has a hard-on. He liked what he just did. You guys were right. He really is a faggot"

"Sad but true."

"It doesn't make him a bad person, just a fruity one."

Stash suggested, "You don't need to see that happen again, Cassie, with him doing me. How about we move your fine ass and my big

tool to your bedroom, and I give you some of what you hubby can't, with his junior jerk-stick?"

"Mmmm," she purred. "That sounds delightful." Buster said, "I'll keep an eye on your fruity-tootsie, girl."

"Thanks, Buster," she said. "I'm glad you showed everybody what he's really like. Now I won't feel guilty while Stash screws me senseless."

The three of them laughed. I didn't think she had ever felt any guilt since this started. Would I stay engaged to her? Were we still going to get married? What would our life together be like?

The two lovers headed for our marital bed. Buster patted a spot next to him on the sofa.

"Plant that soft rump over here, Felicia." "Um... please... could I go rinse my mouth?"

"What for?" He was suddenly scowling. "You saying my jazz doesn't taste good, especially to a fag-boy like you? Is that what you're saying?"

"No, no." I didn't want to face the consequences of offending him. My testicles remained at risk. "It tastes fine. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't. Or if you were, it was stupid thinking. You need to say it out loud."

"Say... what?"

"That you're stupid. Good for sucking my Johnson, but not for thinking. Now, let me hear it."

"I..." I swallowed nervously, unintentionally gulping down more of his cum, mixed with my saliva. "I'm stupid, Buster. I'm just a..." What would he like to hear me call myself? "... a pea-brain."

"You sure are. A pea-brain with a pea pod dick." He again put his large dark hand on the sofa cushion next to him. Buster's expression softened. "Now get on over here."

I sat closer to him than I would have preferred. His long arm went around my shoulders, as if we were best buddies. He squeezed my undeveloped bicep. My discomfort continued to mount, but I didn't dare let that show. He told me to take hold of my penis, which was limp again. Then he used his free hand to reach across and toy with one of my nipples. Against my will, I began to get aroused. Buster wanted me to stroke myself. Fearful of what even a slight refusal could bring on, I did what he had said.

"Whoa," he protested. "You don't need so many fingers on that dog biscuit. Just your thumb and pointing finger will be plenty." He gave my nipple a slight pinch, just enough to warn me not to put myself in jeopardy. Adjusting my grip, I resumed pumping myself. With some more diddling, he soon had me fully stiff. "Don't you finish, Felicia. It's okay to fool with that doodle, but don't make it squirt without my say-so. Understand, dummy?"

"Y... Yes, Sir." I nodded for emphasis.

He hugged me against him. "You like how I smell? Hmm? My man-smell?"

"I do." He had made me aware of the distinctive mingling of perspiration and secretions that he exuded.

Buster pulled my head down and in, at the same time leaning away from me, releasing his hold so he could raise that arm. He stuffed my face into his gamey armpit. It was damp, no surprise after he had so recently ejaculated. I was held there and had my face rubbed into his underarm.

"Come on, girl," he urged. "Show some love. Let's have thank-you kisses for me letting you BJ my BBC."

Against my instincts, I puckered up and smooched his damp smelly pit. It made me bilious. He kept me at it until I was dizzy. When Buster set me free, I heard my fiancé cry out with pleasure, in the bedroom.

Buster speculated, "Sounds like my man Stash just slipped her his rod. Get a picture of that in your head. Can you see his king-size cock sliding in and out of her tight white pussy? Stretching her? Making it so she could never be happy with that useless dingle of yours, even if she could forgive you for lying about how you're a secret fag and in love with dark meat? Your situation was messed up before, Felicia..." He pronounced each syllable distinctly, stretching out my new feminized name. "... but now it's a total trainwreck. No way, are you ever going to do the dirty with her."

"But we've been making wedding plans. She even bought herself some nice jewelry to wear during the ceremony."

"I'll bet it wasn't cheap stuff, either."

Cassie hollered in ecstasy. Buster had put an image in my mind, of Stash on top of her, his magnificent manhood driving in, over and over. He had probably finished, deep inside. Her precious center, which I hadn't been allowed to touch, had been invaded and taken possession of by that dark-skinned intruder into our lives. I was shattered. If she continued to casually flaunt her body

at me, the way she had been doing since we moved in together, all I would be able to think about was how she willingly surrendered to him.

Buster suggested, "Let's go in and see how the happy couple are doing. It's best for you to check her and see how she looks after a real man has done the deed. Keep stroking your pee-wee, candy-ass. You need to show Cassie that you're still turned on by being with me."

"But I'm not..."

He slapped my bare thigh hard. I yelped and drew in to myself, like I was trying to assume a fetal position.

He snapped at me, "No backtalk from you, sissy. I know you're hot for what I've got, and I don't want to hear you saying anything different. Right?"

"Yes. Yes, Sir. Right."

"That's more like it. Now let's visit that bedroom."

His big hand enclosed my wrist, and he towed me along behind him, like I weighed almost nothing. Buster was so strong, so manly. Stash hadn't even bothered to close the door. Maybe that was so I'd be sure to hear my future wife's excited vocalizations. Or perhaps he just didn't care. Either way, as we entered, I got an eyeful of the aftermath of their sexual joining. The air smelled of it. They were stretched out alongside each other, uncovered, obviously sated. Her legs were parted and her vagina was lewdly displayed, with his semen leaking slowly from between her puffy labia. The sight made me wince.

"Yo, brother," Buster said cheerily. "How'd that shit go?"

"Went fine," confirmed Stash. "This bitch was a tiger, just waiting to be woke up. She got a real Jones-crusher."

"But... but..." I said, my voice barely audible, "can we still get married after... this?"

"Damn right we can," Cassie told me. "I'm not going to have you back out and make me look like a reject, little man. I don't want all my friends thinking you used me and then tossed me aside, like a used condom."

"We never had sex," I said weakly.

"They don't know that. They also don't know that you're a pansy with a dick the size of a roll of dimes. And they're not going to find out. The thing is, I'm going to lay down the law and you're going to stick to everything I say."

"I... I..." All I could think of was preserving our relationship. Anything else could be dealt with later. That was why I told her, "Yes, dear. Absolutely. Whatever you say."

"That's a good wimp," she mock-congratulated. "For starters, you're not getting that Oopa-Loopa-size prick anywhere near my snatch. Next, I can hop into bed with anybody I please, starting with Stash. And Buster will always be welcome to take his turn, whenever he feels like it. Those Big Black Cocks are addictive."

As if I was listening to someone else speak, I heard myself say, "Yes, Cassie."

"And you won't sneak behind my back and play with your midget meat. Right now, you can keep toying with yourself, so long as you don't finish."

I looked down and was startled to find that I was still stroking it. OMG, what must that seem like, if I could maintain an erection while seeing my wife and her new lover in the afterglow of intercourse? What did it say about me?

"One more thing," she went on with a sadistic leer. "Right now, Felicia, you're going to clean up that big mess Stash deposited in my twat... with your tongue."

"I'm going to...?" My throat constricted. "Are you serious?"

Buster told me, "She's as serious as a kick to the balls, which is what I'm going to give you, if you don't get your dopey face down there and show her how you can follow orders."

With my tummy lurching, I got into position, brought my face to within inches of her well-used sheath, and stuck out my tongue. I lapped at her oozing furrow, gathering up lots of Stash's spunk, and forced myself to swallow it. I could taste both of them. She sighed. I continued to slurp up his leavings and gag them down. Cassie became aroused and after about ten minutes she even had a mini-orgasm.

"Not bad," she declared. "You can do that after every time I get plowed. A clean pussy is a happy pussy. Now give it some kisses and tell Pussy you love her."

I pressed my mouth to her nether lips several times. "I love you, Ms. Pussy." To be safe, I added, "I'll always be ready to kiss you, even after... some man has been... inside."

"Deep inside," she amended. "A hell of a lot further than your pitiful pecker could reach. I am so glad I found out about the real you before we had a chance to hit the sheets together."

"Yes, my love," I agreed automatically. It felt like I would be doing a lot of concurring, from then on.

"Later, after Buster rams me with that cock you sucked off, Felicia, and you've cleaned me up again, we're going to make a list, you and me. I'll dictate those rules I mentioned before, and a bunch of others, and you'll write them all down. Then you can post the list on the fridge, with some of those stupid magnets that are already there: STAR CRAP, SUPER-BAT, POP-STAR ASSHOLES."

She got all the names wrong but I didn't correct her. Again, it was what I anticipated lots of in the days to come, and weeks, and months. But we would still be getting married, so there was hope. She could accept my below-average penis. I wasn't actually some kind of sissy. Big Black Cocks didn't attract me, not matter how large and gorgeous they were. I didn't want to have to worship the impressive schlongs of Stash and Buster. Not really. Right? I told myself everything would eventually work itself out.

Stash barked at me, "Let's see if you clean a used cock good as you do a cream-filled pussy. Get your sissy mouth busy on my tool, fool."

"Yes, Sir. Oh, yes. Of course, Sir."

I fell to the task at once, taking my time to prolong his pleasure. He got hard again, even though it was so soon after screwing my fiancé. As much as I hated him using her, I had to admire his stamina. His huge endowment. How effortlessly he had drawn her to him. I lavished attention on his rigid shaft and especially the swollen knob. It felt like what I should be doing. Everything else could be fixed later. But not right then. Not for quite a while.

*********