Corseted, Caned & Caged! By Throne (Patreon)

Corseted, Caned & Caged!

By Throne

© 2019-2050 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.

CORSETED, CANED & CAGED!

by Throne

I couldn't believe how lucky I was.  Astrid was giving a party and she had invited me.  There was going to be a roomful of hot girls there, all plus-sized like her, she had casually mentioned.  She even wanted me to arrive early so 'we can spend some private time together'.  I wasn't sure what that might mean, but just the idea of being alone with her was thrilling.  How often does a nerdy little guy like me get to find himself the only one with a tall, full-figured stunner like her?  I pictured her sitting and me giving her a shoulder rub and then running my fingers through her long blond hair, while I peered over her shoulder at the tops of those super-size boobs and the deep valley between them.  What might that lead to?  It would be incredible for my first sexual experience -- I mean, not counting when I did stuff solo -- to be with such a stunner.

I arrived at her place late in the afternoon, several hours before anyone else was due to arrive.  She greeted me at the door to her modest house, wearing only a short silky robe, with a loosely tied belt.  Bells and whistles went off inside my head.  She invited me in and, as I followed her, I couldn't stop gazing at her long shapely legs, and the high-heeled, clear-plastic, slippers she wore, which had a pink tint to them.

"Let's get you out of your shirt and slacks, Pete," she said impishly.  "Wouldn't want them to get mussed."

"Well... um... sure, if you think that's a good idea," I said haltingly, in no hurry to have my lack of more than a little body hair exposed.

"Oh, I insist.  In fact, let me help you."

With nimble fingers, she unbuttoned my shirt.  Then she had me remove my slip-on shoes.  Finally, she took her time unbuckling my belt, opening the catch that held my pants closed, and seductively lowering my fly.  Moments later I had shed my outerwear and stood there in only my jockey shorts.  I had worn pale yellow ones and hoped they were manly enough.

Astrid stepped close to me and rubbed her plump thigh between my legs.  Oh my gosh!  It was pressing against my crotch and moving up and down.  I was aroused almost instantly.  The gorgeous blond stepped back and put her hands on her wide hips.

"Well, take a look at that," she said, her eyes on the front of my underwear.  "Somebody is all excited."   She put her hand on my penis, through the material of that single bit of covering.  "Aww," she went on, sounding like she was admiring a child's toy or something equally innocuous and non-sexual.  "It's so tiny.  How cute.  I know you won't get rude with me, not if that's all you have down there."  She hugged me.  "I feel safe with you, Pete."

"Err... thank you?"

"That's my good boy.  Now, let's get you started.  I'm so pleased that you volunteered to help me clean up this place."

Putting a warm hand on my bare shoulder, she walked me to her kitchen, where I was confronted with a sink full of dirty dishes.  She told me I could start by washing those.  Then she took an apron off a hook on the wall and put it on me.  The bib-front covered my unimpressive chest and the lower portion concealed my erection.  She tied a big bow in the back.

"You know what," she added, "if that apron gets too wet, it might soak through.  Let me take that pretty underwear off you, to make sure it stays dry."

Before I could gather my thoughts, Astrid squatted behind me, hooked her fingers under the waistband of my underwear, and dragged it down my legs.  When she told me to step out of them, I did it.  Saying she would put all my clothes in a safe spot, she left the room.  There I stood, in nothing but a green and yellow apron, with ruffles around the edges, my bottom exposed.  It had all happened so quickly.  My head was spinning.  Yet she acted like this was a normal situation and that me being nearly naked, while she wore almost as little, was perfectly acceptable.  Her amused reaction to the size of my organ kept replaying in my head as I began washing the dishes, my hands moving almost without me telling them what to do.  I could hear her in some other part of the house, talking, on the phone I assumed.  I was about halfway through my task, with the drainer almost full, when she returned.

"Hmm," she considered.  "You had better dry some of those to make room for the rest.  I think you can figure out where to put them away."

She moved in and put her arms around me, with those desirable balloon-breasts against my back.  I shuddered and tried not to drop the plate I had been running the sponge over.

"Oh, okay," I said in a small voice.

Astrid didn't release me.  Putting her lips close to my ear, she whispered, "I'm sure you'll be a hit with all the girls I invited.  I might be jealous, when I see all the attention you're getting."

"Attention?  How do you mean?"  My voice almost cracked.

"Let's not spoil any surprises," she advised.

When one of her hands dropped down to squeeze my bottom, I nearly jumped out of my skin.  She nuzzled my neck.  I was seized by a fit of trembling.

"After you're done that," she went on, "you can find a feather duster and the vacuum cleaner in the hall closet.  Dust first and then do the vacuuming.  Right?"

"Sure."  My mouth was dry.

"I'm going to get dressed because a couple of my friends are arriving early, with some food they made and other things."

"Once I'm done the dishes, maybe you could give me back my clothes and..."

"Peter," she said, splitting my named into two distinct syllables.  "Don't be a fuddy-duddy.  I'm sure these girls have seen plenty of guys who were wearing a lot less.  Now just keep busy like a sweetie."

"Yes, Astrid."

I finished the dishes, went to the closet, and got my cleaning tools.  It felt odd to be showing so much skin while I went around dusting any areas that I thought might need it, even though I didn't detect any visible dust.  Then I ran the vacuum, with the clear cannister on it ending up with barely any contents.  I put those things away and checked to see if my clothes were anywhere, but they were gone.  That was when the doorbell rang.

Astrid called from wherever she was, "Get the door, Petey."

A bolt of panic struck me.  What could I do?  All I had on was that apron.  I didn't know where my clothes were.  My wallet and keys were in the pockets of my pants.  On unsteady legs, I went toward the front door, my mind racing as I tried to figure some way to avoid the coming confrontation, or at least lessen its shameful impact.  When I reached the door, I stood behind it, turned the knob, and swung it inward.  Three girls, all tall and zaftig like Astrid, strode in, carrying various items.  Each was dressed to show off her bounteous figure.  As I closed the door, they spotted me.

"What's this?" one of them wanted to know.

"It's like a guy, only smaller."

"And dressed like a twinkle."

I nervously smoothed down the front of the apron, even though it didn't need smoothing.  "I... uh... I'm Pete."

"Pete?  You look more like a pet.  Astrid's pet twinkle-boy."

The three of them penned me in.  I was trapped by smoothly rounded faces, thrusting busts, wide hips and full thighs.  When any of them turned to the side, I got to see well-padded, jutting bottoms.

One of them thrust a cardboard box at me.  I held it with both hands, struggling under its weight.  Then another set a twelve-pack of soda atop it, adding to the strain on my shoulders.  The final one had an insulted bag that was big enough to hold a picnic lunch for eight, which she positioned behind the soda, tucked under my chin so that it forced me to tilt my head back.  I couldn't even see where I was putting my feet as the strap of my apron, behind my neck, was grabbed and I was led forward.  Instead of taking me to the kitchen, where I might be able to set down my burdens, they went along the hall, searching for Astrid.

"Hey, girlfriend," one of them called.  "Where are you?"

"In the bathroom," called back the girl I had held such high hopes for getting closer to.

The trio crowded in there, taking me with them.  I almost fell forward twice.  There stood Astrid, stark raving naked, her glorious swelling curves on display, though I was in no condition to fully appreciate them.

She said, "I see you found my helper."

"We thought he was your house pet, so we named him Pet."

Astrid laughed.  "I like that, so Pet he is."  She ruffled my hair and told the new arrivals, "Introduce yourselves to him, ladies."

"I'm Crystal," said the one with short platinum hair.

"You can call me Day."  Her strawberry blond tresses, bordering on red, were pulled back into a long ponytail.

"And I'm Essie," said the one with the most generous contours, whose black locks were straight and cut into bangs across her broad forehead.

Astrid explained, "I know them from the Big Girls Gym, where we all work-out."

My biceps, what there is of them, were burning.  I begged, trying not to make it sound like begging, "May I please set everything down somewhere?"

"Sure," said Astrid.  "Take him to the kitchen, you three.  He can help you put everything where you want it."

The girls giggled as they herded me along.  Once we were in the kitchen, they took everything I had been carrying and put it on the counter.

"Oh my," said Crystal with exaggerated concern.  "Pet's pretty apron got all wrinkled."

"We need to do something about that," said Day, moving behind me and untying it.

"Give it to me," offered Essie, "and I'll smooth it out."

Day took the shoulder straps of the apron and whisked it up and off me.  I stood there in the nude, too startled to even react.  My near absence of pubic hair was made public along with my underendowed endowment.

"Wow-wow-wow," exclaimed Crystal.  "Pet has a pee-wee pecker."

"It's barely there ," marveled Essie.

Day gripped me by both shoulders, to turn me around so I was facing her.  She stepped back and squinted at my genitals, craning her neck, as if they were too small to see clearly.

"What's that supposed to be?  It's sure not a cock.  More like one of those disposable cigarette lighters."  She held her thumb and first finger about two-and-a-half inches apart, to indicate how below-average it was.

Crystal stepped in and said, "You're not being fair, Day.  He's obviously not a shower, but a grower.  Just let me get him hard and you'll see."  She told me, "Don't you worry, stud.  We'll show those bitches."

Her hands came up and she began to diddle my nipples.  I gasped and my hips started to dance.

"P... please, don't do that," I said breathlessly.  "I don't want to... to..."

"Stand back, girls," called Crystal.  "Here comes Mister Big."

She continued to tease me that way and my penis rose to its full dimensions.  That was when she made a show of concern, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Day wanted to know, "When does the growing start?"

"Umm," Crystal said uncertainly.  "I think it already started... and finished.  I owe you an apology, Day.  That's all there is."

Essie volunteered, "Give me a turn.   They don't make them that small.  I mean, they do, but then puberty arrives and they grow up."  She laced the fingers of both hands together and squeezed, as if preparing to do a difficult task.  Then she caught my dick between her palms and rubbed her hands rapidly, like she was trying to get them warm on a freezing day.

My breathing raced.  I reached toward her hands but then thought better of it.  These were girls who I did not want to irritate.  Just as I was afraid that I might ejaculate, she abruptly stopped.

"Nope," she concluded.  "This is an extreme case of arrested development.  And any guy with so little development should be arrested.  The charge would be 'assault with a dinky weapon'."

My cheeks got warm and I knew I was blushing furiously.  I wanted to wish my erection away but that was beyond my abilities.  I belatedly clapped my hands over the offending area.

"Hey," came Astrid's voice.  "Stop pulling your bite-size piece of taffy, Pet."

"I wasn't...  I wouldn't..."

"You play with it a lot at home, don't you?" she demanded.

Caught off guard, I admitted, "Yes, but..."  Too late.  They had heard my shameful confession.

"I'll bet," Astrid said, "that you think about my jugs and my queen-size ass when you play with yourself."  She had on a shiny top that made it obvious there was no bra underneath.  "In fact, you're gawking at my bazongas right now.  So let me get a man's opinion on my fashion choice.  Do you think this makes me look trashy?  It kind of let's my knockers knock against each other."  When I wasn't able to reply, she decided, "You need to feel how they move when they're not in my DD cups."

She took my wrists and put my open hands on her warm yielding boobs.  Astrid rolled her shoulders, making her breasts shift around under my palms.

"I shouldn't be doing this," I protested weakly.  My pelvis twitched with enough force that no one could miss what was happening.

Astrid purred, "Ohhhh, Pet.  The way you're pawing me feels so wonderful.  You're so aggressively macho."  She licked her lips.  "I don't know how much more I can take."  All at once she was chuckling at my discomfort.  She pulled my hands away.  "That's enough, Junior.  Twinkles like you can't take too much of that.  Besides, our dates will be arriving soon."

"D... dates?" I stuttered.  "You mean guys?"

"No, doofus.  Girls.  We're all lezzies."  She shook her head, making her blond locks shimmer.  "Of course, I mean guys.  Get your brain in gear, Pet.  Or is it irreparably damaged from too much jerking off?"  She pantomimed male masturbation, while making a goofy face, tongue out and eyes wide.

"May I at least have something to wear?" I pleaded.

The hostess rubbed her rounded chin and looked thoughtful.  "When I invited you, I figured it might turn out like this, so I did borrow something from my cousin Brie.  Let's move to the bedroom and put it on Pet, ladies."

At once, I saw that my request was probably being used against me.  Even so, I told myself, anything was better than being completely undressed, especially when male guests showed up.  Not that I was given any choice in the matter.  They hustled me to Astrid's bedroom.  This was not the state in which I had hoped to arrive there.  She opened her dresser and took out something I didn't recognize.  When she held it up in front of me, I realized that it was a corset, black with red trim.  Not only was it entirely feminine, but it wouldn't cover my essentials.  Crystal and Day held my arms while Astrid lowered the corset close to the floor, so I could step into it.  Then she pulled it up my body until it was level with my waist.  She kept it there while Essie, now behind me, tightened the laces.  It wasn't physically uncomfortable at first, only psychologically.  The dark-haired girl didn't stop and my middle began to be compressed.  She tugged a few times, until I was having trouble taking deep breaths.

"See, Essie?" said Astrid.  "Working with weights at the gym paid off.  You could probably get a job helping twinkles like Pet here get into their corsets."

"Or their bondage outfits," Essie contributed.  "I can see this cutie in a full gimp-suit, complete with nose ring.  Originally, I was thinking of a cock-ring, but there's not a real cock to put one on."

Finally, she tied the laces.  Crystal told me to move around the room.  Day insisted that I sway my hips and take small mincing steps.  Astrid told them that if I walked like a twinkle, it meant that's what I was.  I wanted to point out that I was moving that way only because of the constricting garment and the instructions that two of them had given me.  Before I could make the mistake of voicing that opinion, I saw that it would be counterproductive.  I was upset because they were being unfair, but fairness had no place in this scenario.

Crystal took me in her arms and began to slow-dance, humming a vague melody.  I had a panic reaction to that unasked-for intimacy and jerked myself away from her.  Her face tightened into an angry scowl.  Crud and double-crud.  I had taken yet another misstep.

"Rejecting me, are you, Pet?"  She patted her short hair and looked down her nose at me.  "I think that deserve some corrective discipline."

The four buxom beauties were arrayed before me, their curvaceous forms offering temptations of which I could not take advantage.  They each had superior height, weight and reach over me.  After the way I had handled the soda and other items they had brought, we all knew who was stronger than who.  I took a step backward, bringing up my hands.  Then I dropped my hands to my sides.  Anything on my part that resembled aggression would not be to my benefit.  I dug my fingers into my unimpressive thighs.  The corset continued its relentless pressure to my midsection.  Day and Essie hooked their arms through mine.  Astrid went into her dresser again.  This time, she produced something even worse than the corset.  It was a riding crop, which she swished audibly through the air, before offering it to Crystal.

Astrid announced, "You're the injured party in this case, dear, so you're the one who gets to decorate Pet's soft ass with some attractive stripes.  I think red lines will be quite a bold statement on those pale cheeks."

Crystal accepted the instrument of punishment as if she were participating in some formal ceremony.  She even brought it to her lips and placed a kiss on the middle of its length.  I shuddered.  Day and Essie glanced toward each other, nodded toward the floor, and sank down slowly, taking me with them, bending me forward as they went.  I ended up with my legs straight but my body folded over at the waist, the corset threatening to cut me in half.  My backside was offered as a perfect target for the crop, which Crystal now used the tip of to tap my clenching buttocks.  Despite my efforts to be stoic, I heard myself whimper pitifully.  There was the sound of the crop slicing through the air, followed by fire blazing across both my nether cheeks.  I squealed, a sound that eliminated any chance I had of being perceived as more than that term they had used for what I was -- a twinkle.  With every stoke of the crop I had another loud response.  They varied, some choked off as I ran out of breath, others rising to shrieks and then descending into moans, a few that were stretched and strained by my futile attempts at silence.  The beating seemed to go on endlessly, though afterwards I understood that it had been limited to perhaps only two dozen strikes.  When it was done, I could only stand there, still with my head lowered and the corset cutting into my stomach, agony sinking deeper into my abused flesh like acid.  The women holding me rose fluidly, straightening me up at the same time.

"Now," Astrid declared, "we have to make sure this wild boy doesn't cause any more trouble.  Once again, I have just what we need."  She commanded me, "Pet, go and fetch what's under the edge of my bed."

Doing my best to slow my breathing back to normal, I got down on my knees and felt under the bed.  What I found and dragged out was several sections of slim metal bars that crisscrossed each other vertically and horizontally.  Astrid quickly unfolded it and I saw that it was a portable dog kennel, one intended for a medium-size breed.  With Essie's help, she carried it to the living room and set it in the middle of the carpet, with the door swung open.

"Go on, Pet," Astrid coaxed.  "In you go.  The name my friends gave you is very appropriate now, isn't it?"

"Y... yes, Astrid," I said, barely audible.

She instructed, "Back into your crate, dear.  It will work better that way."

I did it, barely able to fit myself inside, with the corset again tormenting me.  My throbbing rump was pressed against the back wall firmly enough that I knew my reddened flesh was being squeezed out between through the square spaces between the bars.  There should have been a hard plastic tray providing a floor but that was absent, leaving me with my knees and elbows on the grid of bare metal rods.  As Essie closed the door and moved the siding lock into place, she gave me a broad wink.  I had no wiggle room in any direction.  Thought I could touch the lock and probably reverse its position, my blazing butt reminded me not to.  The women went to the kitchen to do more with the food that had been brought.

All too soon, I heard a car pull up out front, followed moments later by the doorbell being impatiently rung several times in close succession.  Muscles in my back tightened.  The girls all sped to the door and pretended not to be eager to see their guys.  The door was opened and in strode a quartet of tall swaggering jocks.  I got an impression of sports jerseys, worn jeans, and running shoes, combined with loud voices, crude language, and boisterous laughter.  And the guys were all Black!  There I crouched, inside my cramped cage, with my punished posterior waiting to attract stares.  Bottles of beer were handed to the roughnecks.  They swigged alcohol and gave the girls hard kisses, while freely groping those wide bulging bottoms with their dark hands.  I heard the male guests referred to as Mack, Reggie, Tank and Dixon.  The one who most concerned me was Mack, once I saw that he was paired with Astrid.  Despite my failure with her, and the plain fact that any future between us was an illusion, I was still struck by jealousy.  After the first wave of scandalous socializing, attention turned to me, as if I was some freakshow attraction.

Mack got down on his haunches and leered at me through the bars, his ebony face split by a wide grin.  He caught my nose and gave it a hard pinch.  Reggie went behind me and blurted out an expletive when he saw my tail end.  Tank and Dixon each took a side, poking at my hips and thighs, remarking on how soft and mostly hairless I was.

"Damn freak could almost be a girl," one of them said.

"That's Pet," Astrid identified me.  "I wish you could see his miniature ding-a-ling."

"We can make that happen," claimed Mack.

He and Tank tilted the cage, got it on its side, and put it with the top on the floor.  All my weight pushed down on my back.  My male parts became visible.  When I instinctively pressed my legs together, Mack poured some beer into the cage, aiming for my face.  Part of it went into my upturned nostrils, sending me into spasms of choking.   Instead of evoking sympathy, that triggered derision.  The four Black guys marveled that any male could allow himself to be brought so low.

The studs took seats around the room, with a girl in front of each of them.  Those plus-size pretties began to strip for their admirers.  The guys hooted and hollered.  Once the girls were naked, Crystal sat up against her date.  Day gave her guy an impromptu lap dance.  Essie knelt at the feet of her man and put her head between his thighs, so she could kiss the fly of his jeans.  Astrid put on music and performed a sinuous dance for everyone to enjoy.  Cocks were freed.  Every one of them put mine to shame.  I wasn't even in the same category as those massive sausages, with their fat knobs, and the accompanying heavy balls.  Astrid went to Mack, taking him by the hand, and bringing him to his feet.  He scooped her up in his arms, which I could never have done, and carried her out of the room,  with is dark rod bobbing stiffly.  The others began to leave also.

Day went last.  She opened my cage and told me, "Crawl to the bathroom, get up on your knees and sit back on your heels, like a begging dog, Pet.  Don't you dare change positions, or you'll pay big-time for it," she threatened.

"Damn right," seconded her date, Tank.  "And I'll be there to back her up.  Not that she'd need it, with a sissy like you."

Day gently corrected, "He prefers to be called a twinkle."

His laughter was a derisive snort.  "With a dick like some kind of... of... bite-size snack, he deserves to be called that."

Words were obviously not his forte.  Heedless of his challenged speech skills, Day wrapped her arms around him, squished her big round tits against his chest, and locked lips with the clod.  She ran her hand over his cock, which jutted out of his black denim pants.  Soon they went off to presumably enjoy a sexual encounter, like I guessed the others would also be doing.  I wriggled out of my cage on my back, probably sustaining bruises, which I acquire easily.  Then I rolled over and began my crawl of shame.  Once in the bathroom, I assumed the demanded position and remained in it, wondering how much worse my evening could become.

I found out, about twenty minutes later, when Crystal appeared, still unclad, with something hanging from her fingers.  It was a used condom, a large one, with a heavy load of male ejaculate in its reservoir tip.  I expected her to dump the disgusting thing into the toilet and flush it away.  Just seeing it made my insides churn.  Instead of disposing of it like that, she held it above my head.

"Chin up and open wide, Pet," she ordered cheerily.

Was it possible that she intended what I dreaded she might be about to do?  I eased my head back, being reminded of how sore my neck was from that stay in the cage, and spread my jaws.  Yes, she inverted the rubber, so that the white cream, from one of the Black men's balls, oozed toward the opening.  I gagged even before any of it reached me.  Crystal smiled down at me and milked the mess toward my waiting lips.  It drooled out of the scum-bag and hung there, then fell onto my revulsed tongue.  The taste was terrible.  Tears formed in my eyes.  The slime ran off my tongue and down the back of my throat.  While she was making another dollop fall, Day entered the room, also carrying a stretched-out condom.

The second girl made it sway in the air and said, "This would be way too big for you to wear, Pet.  Your pecker would take the Midget Model of cum-catcher.  Not like the Big Black Cocks that I can't live without."

As soon as Crystal was done, finishing by rubbing the open end of the rubber on my upper lip, to get some residue under my nostrils, it was Day's turn.  She performed the same milking operation, easing another still-warm load into my mouth, making me even more nauseated than I had already become.

Just as she was pulling it away, Essie hurried in, moving double-time.  She didn't carry anything, but her cheeks were ballooned out beyond their normal degree of chubbiness.  She bent over me and took hold of my face, pushing her thumb and forefinger into the hinges of my jaws, making me open my mouth even further and keep it ready to be used.  Essie's lips parted and a disgusting string of semen, mixed with her saliva, ran down.  It touched my lower lip until she adjusted her angle of delivery, so that the majority of it was deposited directly onto my tongue.  She scraped more off her own tongue with her teeth, let that fall, and then gathered up a blob of spit, to mix with whatever else she could capture, and fired it into my mouth.

She told her friends, "My guy popped while I was still sucking on him for foreplay.  He'll be ready and able to screw me soon, so Pet can count on another helping of protein from him."

I was swaying, unable to absorb the enormity of these insults to my self-image.  How could I ever look even one of these girls in the eye again after what had been done to me?  I might not even be able to approach any other female after the damage that was being inflicted on my pride.  I was close to swooning when Astrid joined the others.

She chortled and said, "That bastard Mark didn't even use a rubber.  He knows I've been on the pill for a while.  Usually, I like him to use a rubber anyway, just to be neat, especially with those jumb0 loads of his, but he's somebody I don't often say no to."  She sneered down at me.  "Cream pie for table number one."

With that, Astrid straddled my face, standing up, her long shapely legs spread.  By then my resistance was demolished.  I stuck out my tongue, got it between her sticky pussy lips, and slurped up some of Mark's thick sauce.  A glob of it leaked out.  I put my lips where his cock had so recently been, to enable me to suck out more of the generous deposit he had made.  I was ingesting my fourth serving of spunk.  Earlier, I had feared that there might be permanent damage to my sexual self.  Now it was a certainty.  It was possible that I would never jettison my virginity after what these four zaftig females and their Black partners had done to me.  I lapped up as much more of Mark's ejaculate as I could access, while ogling their big butts and meaty thighs.

The four dark stallions crowded into the room, in full party mode.  They could barely believe what I was doing.  The girls gave them all the disgusting details.

"Day-am," said Reggie.  "The jerk's like a human sperm bank."

Tank did better with words this time, declaring, "He's a regular jizz jar."

"For true," agreed Dixon.  "Got a tongue that's made for licking used pussies."

Mark finished up by saying to Astrid, "I hope he's not making a move on you, girl.  I might have to get hard-case on his itty-bitty balls."

He stepped up to the blond I was servicing, took her face between hands the color of coffee straight from the pot, and gave her a probing kiss.  I didn't stop lapping and swallowing.

Astrid stepped away at last and said, "Holy masturbating monkey!  Get an eyeful of that.  Pet is hard again, from eating a real man's goo out of my snatch.  That twinkle has a kink for the way we've been treating him."

I wanted to deny it but how can you disagree with a stiff dick, even if it is a laughably small one?

Mark observed, "His baby dick is like a lie detector."

Reggie reinforced that with, "Some white dudes are just built to play those games, especially after they see some Black tools going into blondie boxes."

The best Tank could come up with was, "He's twisted beyond repair."

Dixon summarized, "So Pet wants more of the same."

Essie, her ginormous booty level with my face, enthused, "Looks like we've got a plaything to use whenever we want, individually or as a group.  I call dibs on him for next Friday night.  Mo Bigger and his cousin Buck are coming over to my place and it's going to be a three-way orgy with double BBC."  She swiveled and locked eyes with me.  "There'll be plenty of midnight snacking for you, Pet.  If you're extra into it all, I'll even sit on your face, so you can't miss a drop of those two guys' super-sauce.  Won't that be the best?"

I had been branded as some sort of pervert, who desired being abused and used.  Looming ahead of me was more of the same, for weeks, months, and most likely years.  I couldn't envision ever having a normal sex life.

To answer Essie's question, I said, "Yes.  It will be... the best."

Who knows?  Maybe I even meant it.  Or else I would eventually.

*​​​​​​******