Blacked Girlfriend & Bullied Boyfriend! By THRONE

Blacked Girlfriend & Bullied Boyfriend!

By THRONE

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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.

Blacked Girlfriend

&

Bullied Boyfriend!

By THRONE

"Come on," Elissa coaxed. "You know you like it." She sat on the edge of their bed.

"I've been having second thoughts about this." Milty stood there, wearing nothing but a pair of shiny, gold thong panties that she had gotten for him.

"Your little guy down there isn't having any second thoughts."

She was smirking at the bump in the front of what he had on. It was a small bump. Even though his penis was erect, there wasn't a lot to it. His girlfriend wore a loose top that was tented out by her impressive bust, and slacks so tight it was like they had been painted on. She also had peep-toe pumps, which seemed odd for around the house. His eyes strayed from her chest-level charms to that footwear.

"I know, I know," he agreed uneasily. "It's just that..." He shrugged.

"Are you also going to tell me you don't want to hear any more about who I dated before we hooked up? A certain someone who bullied guys like you? Who I showed you pictures of? Hmmm?"

"That's a separate issue," he insisted.

"I don't think so. Being put into girly lingerie and being told about Jarell's big Black cock, and how much I love it, has the same effect."

He gently corrected, "You mean how much you used to love it." "Well..." She gave him an impish smile.

Milty always melted inside when she did that. It was such a seductive contrast with her incredible body. Elissa was short like him, with a ginormous bust, accompanied by a perfect figure everywhere else. To have someone so hot give you that playful smile suggested wild times to come. Of course, lately, she hadn't been eager to have sex with him. Their bedroom visits usually consisted of her pleasuring herself with a king-size black dildo that she called Mr. J. That bothered her boyfriend, as the name was obviously a reference to her ex. She understood the dual effect any mention of the guy from her past had. While she was

using the fake cock she would rhapsodize about those previous encounters. Milty had to kneel between her outstretched legs and play with his own tiny dick at the same time. She made him wear panties with an open crotch for that. It was humiliating for him but, as she loved to point out, also drove the conflicted guy to wild ejaculations. Over time, she had trained him to spurt all over her pussy, which she would make easier by removing the dildo just as he was about to finish. Then, when her lightly furred, blond mound was messy with his spunk, he had to go down on her to lick it clean. That led to him licking and sucking his live-in significant other to multiple orgasms.

"The thing is," she went on, still referring to how she had just described her attraction to Jarell as being in the present, "he's back in town." She glanced surreptitiously at her watch. "But right now, I have something else pretty for you to put on."

The mention of more girly attire shifted Milty's thinking to where she wanted it to go. He put his open hands on his thighs. "Okay. We can talk about that other thing later."

"That's my good panty boy." She chuckled. Then she reached under the pillow and pulled out a yellow, sleeveless, crop top.

When she held it out to Milty, he shivered visibly. She knew the way to his heart, or at least to the part of his mind that desired being in girly fashions. He took it gingerly between his fingers

and held it up. What he saw written across the chest, in swirling cursive, made him hesitate. There was one word -- SISSY.

He shifted his bare feet. In an uncertain voice he said, "That's not exactly accurate. There's a difference between..."

She cut him off with "Shush," using a scolding tone. "Maybe it's not what you think of yourself as now, Milty, but it could also refer to what you'll become in the future."

The panty-wearing young man shook his head. "This might be too much. I could turn it inside out so that..."

Again, she hushed him, this time even more firmly. "Put on that sweet new top that I was thoughtful enough to get for you... with my credit card that you pay the bills for."

They both knew that when she acted bossy, he inevitably surrendered to her will. This time was no exception. He got the abbreviated garment over his head and pulled it down. She reached up to tug on the bottom of it, which only reached to his bottom rib. Below that, his flat but not muscular abdomen was exposed. Her hands rose until she could reach his nipples, which were hard enough to press out against the thin material. When she toyed with those receptive spots, he gasped. His hips twitched. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, transported to ecstasy. She kept it up until he was fully committed to obeying her. Elissa also needed to make sure her timing was correct.

Another peek at her watch, this one not so cautious because Milty had his head thrown back, told her that the moment of revelation had arrived.

She said, "Whoops. Let me answer the door."

Milty caught his breath and said, "I didn't hear anyone knock.

She stood, took his hand, and walked him through the modest house they rented. When they got to the front door, he tried to pull free, but she refused to let go. When Elissa opened the door, Milty got the shock of his life. Standing there, tall and imposing, was Jarell. He had on a dark T-shirt and worn jeans, along with running shoes. He wore his hair short and had a trimmed goatee. He entered the place like he owned it. Still gripping Milty's hand, she allowed herself to be embraced by the bronze bully. Jarell kissed her hard. Only then did she let go of Milty, who staggered back. The smaller guy threw an arm across his chest and a hand over his crotch.

After the lip lock was over, Jarell turned his attention fiercely to Milty. "Hey, wimp. That's a good color for you. Yellow for coward. And I like that you're wearing a label. Truth in advertising and all that crap." He took a step toward the cowering one, who leaned away from him.

"Uh," Milty squeaked. "Maybe you shouldn't be here... um... Jarell."

"Why not? Elissa invited me. Seems like she needs what you can't give her." To punctuate his claim, he moved unexpectedly and clamped a powerful hand onto Milty's genitals through the panties. When he tightened his fingers, his victim squealed. "Damn. You ain't got enough down there to do the job." He asked Elissa, "Did you get some wine, like I said?"

She eyed the big youth adoringly. "I sure did, lover. Want Milty to fetch us the bottle and some glasses?"

Jarell spoke directly to the object of his domination. "Yeah. Prance on out to the kitchen and get what she said. Let me see your sissy strut."

Scared half out of his mind, unable to think straight, Milty put a wiggle in his walk as he departed the room. Once in the kitchen, he took a few steadying breaths. This was a nightmare. Had Elissa mistakenly thought this was something he wanted? That must be the case, he told himself. He would have to get through the next short while and then, after the intruder was gone, explain to her that he never wished for it to go so far. With the bottle of red wine in one hand and two stemmed glasses in the other, he returned. On the sofa, the two were sitting so close together that their thighs touched. They were talking intimately. Milty kept some distance from them and remained silent and unobtrusive until there was a break in the conversation.

"I... err... brought the wine," he said weakly.

"Duh." Jarelle scowled at him. "I can freaking see that. What? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No." Milty shook his head to emphasize his thought. "No, Sir."

Elissa broke in with, "Milty, use your girly voice. Nice and soft and high. Tell Jarelle that the one who's stupid is you."

This was so humiliating. Even so, the beleaguered boyfriend pitched his voice higher and made sure it was soft. "I'm sorry that I said the wrong thing. That was because..." He forced himself to go on. "... I'm not too smart."

"You're not at all smart," Jarelle told him. "Isn't that right?" "Yes, Sir."
"Then say it, sissy."
"I'm not too smart," Milty echoed.
Elissa contributed, "And you have a tiny pecker." She gave him an

expectant look.

He understood what was expected. "I'm not at all smart and I have a baby dick."

Jarelle laughed. "Maybe it's not that small. Give me a peek so I can decide for my own self."

"That's not necessary, Sir."

The way the Black guy glowered said differently. Milty swallowed with an effort. Setting aside the bottle and glasses, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of the thong panties. Elissa watched his discomfort with sadistic glee. He lowered the embarrassing bit of covering slowly. His penis popped free, still stiff despite the hell through which he was being put. Also shameful was that he was bald down there, because Elissa made him keep his body shaved. He even had to use disposable razors that were meant for females. Jarell leaned forward and squinted, as if what was there was difficult to see because of its size.

"Holy crud," he exclaimed. "That's so short and skinny, it's almost not there. Let's do a side-by-side test." He stood up. "Unhook my belt, pansy. Open my pants."

Milty turned to Elissa for help. He implored her with his eyes. She giggled and wagged her finger at him.

"No way," she told the suffering one. "You're so pitiful that you need me to protect you from the big bad Black dude. That's not going to happen, princess. Now do what your superior told you."

Jarelle suggested to Milty, "It might be easier if you get down on your knees. Yeah. For sure."

With his nerves strained almost to the breaking point, Milty did as he was told. His trembling fingers undid the belt, opened the pants, and lowered the fly. When Jarelle told him to, he carefully worked down the garment. Underneath were a pair of navy-blue jockey shorts with a huge bulge in their crotch. He goggled at the sheer size of it. Then, at the standing man's urging, he eased down the underwear. What was revealed made him stare in disbelief. Jarelle's cock was a monster. It hung there, an example of pure masculine potency.

"I don't know," Jarelle mused. "We can't make a true comparison while Nancy down there is hard and I'm soft." To Elissa he said, "Why don't you wake the beast, girl?"

"It'll be my pleasure," she assured him.

Before Milty's shocked eyes, her slim pale fingers took hold of that heavy meat. Her digits couldn't go all the way around, like they used to with Milty's much smaller endowment, back when she deigned to touch it. Elissa set up a slow stroking motion. The weapon grew from her ministrations. If it had been big while flaccid, it was ginormous as it grew to its full glory. When it was jutting out, she continued her unhurried pumping.

Jarelle decided, "I'm gonna stand up, bitch, and you can get down there with your boyfriend. When I bust my nut, imma give you a pearl necklace."

Milty didn't know what he was referring to, but it didn't sound good. Milty shuffled backwards on his knees. She put herself where he had been and grinned worshipfully up at the Black man. She pulled up her top and let her boobs spring out. Elissa added her other hand to the action for more stroking power. Jarelle grunted. She sat up like a begging dog, with his shaft aimed at those amazing tits of her. She massaged his rod for several more minutes. Then, all at once, he was spurting his thick cream onto her, with it running into the deep valley between her knockers. She was obviously thrilled to receive his semen on her body.

"All right," Jarelle declared after she had milked out the final drops onto her mammary shelf. "Sissy got to get next to you. Then you swing around to face the sorry sucker."

More confused than ever, Milty was at least able to solve one riddle. He realized that the cum spattered all over her fair skin was what got called a 'pearl necklace'. It sickened him. He put himself where Jarelle wanted him. The Black man leered down at the two of them.

Jarelle wanted to know, "What's the matter, Milt-tee? Don't you like seeing my cream all over her big boobs?"

Milty sniffled. "No, Sir," he responded in his lightweight voice.

"Well then," Jarelle said, "you better clean it up." When Milty held up his empty hands to indicate that he had nothing with which to do the job, the Black guy clarified, "You do it with your mouth, fool. Lips and tongue."

The mistreated one gagged. It was bad enough when his girlfriend had manipulated him into finishing himself all over her pussy and then having to lap up his own mess. But to lick another man's spunk off her precious body and swallow it was a different matter. Jarelle made an impatient noise. Milty sobbed and bent to his disgraceful task. As he gathered the first of the plentiful stuff with his tongue, Elissa tittered. She had no sympathy for him. Quite the opposite, she was clearly savoring his downfall. Milty continued. He made sure to get between her twin glories. It was usually so exciting for him to be permitted any contact with her wonderful jugs. Now, Jarelle had made it repugnant. Nevertheless, Milty couldn't lose his stiffy. When he spotted a drop on one of Elissa's protruding pink nipples, he moved to eliminate it. His better judgement failed him as he took the end of her breast between his lips and dared to suck on it. His neglected balls throbbed. When he stopped what he was doing and caught a glimpse of the Black guy's disapproving face, he understood that he had made a mistake. Would he have to pay for it?

When the clean-up was at last done, Jarelle opened the bottle of wine and poured for two. He and the woman under his spell

raised their glasses in a wordless toast. They sipped and then put aside the drinks. That was when Jarelle stared reprovingly at Milty.

"You know," the seated one said, "I didn't miss how you tried to move in on my girl, the way you was nursing on her."

"I... I'm sorry," Milty said with all the sincerity he could muster.

"Sorry don't fix it. Sorry gets forgotten. What you need is a spanking to remember. That's what naughty sissies get when they misbehave."

"Please, no." Milty sobbed. "Not in front of Elissa."

"Hold up. She's part of this. I got to make sure she witnesses your sentence being carried out." He patted the spot next to him and she retook it. Jarelle wanted her to tell him, "How bad should Milt-Teenie's punishment be?"

That was such creative cruelty, to let the woman Milty loved be the one to determine the extent of his suffering. She put the end of a forefinger to her chin and mused, "Well, he sure went over the line when he tried to get between me and my real man. What you need to do is smack his pansy ass until it's really red, like a candy apple." There was a pregnant pause before she went on, "And between spanks, you need to squeeze his miniature balls. He

won't be having sex with me, that's for sure, so it's okay if you hurt them. Even some permanent damage is acceptable."

Hearing that, Milty experienced a deep chill. How could she be so heartless? If his testicles suffered irreversible injury, and later on he and she got back together, as he still unrealistically believed was possible, how could he function sexually? Was she so unfeeling that she didn't care if he was reduced to a eunuch? Based on how she had been reacting so far, she might even want to see him disabled like that. Elissa had a vicious streak he had never detected before. He was aware that it amused her when she pushed him around, but that had tied in with his latent desires, so he had taken it to be a series of compromises, not an indicator that she had endless disdain for him, that his suffering triggered her satisfaction.

Jarelle stood and pulled up his pants and shorts. He got everything closed back up. Elissa reached over to rub his bulge possessively. The Black bruiser said, "Schooltime. Let's move this to the kitchen." He informed Milty, "Don't bother getting up. You can just crawl behind us. A kinky sissy like you should get a kick from that, along with the hurting I'm going to put on you."

Wait. When had Milty become a pervert? He didn't see himself that way, despite his predilection for wearing lingerie and letting his girlfriend boss him around. That was just having fun, exploring, playing games. Even the directed masturbation and those clean-ups that followed, with his mouth on her pussy, he

credited to what she wanted. Now he was being branded as some kind of pain-and-humiliation slut. His mind swirled. He crawled along after the domineering pair. His eyes went to Elissa's shapely ass in those skintight slacks, and stayed there. The movement of her buttocks was hypnotic. When the got to the kitchen, Jarelle pulled a chair out from the table, spun it around, and sat.

"Let's do it," he said with authority. "Put yourself over my lap."

"Move," Elissa reinforced. "But first pull down your golden thong, so my stud can have full access to your mini-balls."

Milty got the minimalist covering out of the way. He draped himself over the Black man's muscular thighs. It bothered him to be so close to the cock that had so recently been in his girlfriend's hands, and from which came the cream he had to slurp up. The taste lingered in his mouth. Jarelle patted the offered bottom, doing it almost affectionately, which bothered Milty. Then the seated guy raised his hand and brought it down hard. His prey howled and grabbed the legs of the chair. He held on while more blows rained down. When Jarelle stopped, it was only so he could grab those vulnerable nuggets. He gave Milty ample time to understand what was about to happen. A moan of dread-filled anticipation came from the loser. That was when his tormentor abruptly closed his hand, kept it tight for long moments, and then released. Milty had lost his ability to draw a breath while his nuts were under pressure. As they were freed, he sucked in air and

then let out a howl of pain. Before he could recover, Jarelle resumed swatting his sitter. The color of those buttocks deepened. Then came a second round of Milty's balls being compressed against each other. It left him in tears. One more series of spanks gave his ass the color Elissa had requested. A final vising of his gonads reduced him to a blubbering wreck. Jarelle rolled him off his lap, to land hard on the floor.

Jarelle said, "You can thank me, if you want to, Mister Sister."

The floored failure curled into a fetal ball and hugged himself. He croaked out, somehow managing to maintain his wispy voice, "Thank you, Sir." Without knowing why, he added, "I deserved that."

"You damn well did. We have to make sure you remember that Elissa isn't yours anymore. Right?"

"But..."

"Whoa." Jarelle let out an exasperated sigh. "You are one slow-learning fool. Guess we'll have to take you to the bedroom and show you the why of how come you don't have a girlfriend anymore." He snapped his fingers at his victim. "Down on all fours again and come with us." His arm went around Elissa's shoulders and he pulled her in for a long, open-mouthed kiss. Milty was sure that was done for his benefit.

After they got to the bedroom, the standing pair took a moment, looking into each other's eyes. They slowly removed their clothes. Elissa did it provocatively. Jarelle stripped nonchalantly, showing off his physique with natural ease. She ran her hand over his corrugated abs. He stroked her shimmering hair. Milty saw that there was more than carnal lust involved. He was losing his girlfriend not only as a sex partner, but also as the romantic one he had thought he possessed. It made his heart ache.

Jarelle told him, "Come on over, nice and close. Put your hands on the edge of the mattress. That'll give you a good view of what's coming. I want you to be comfortable because this is going to take a while. I hear you were in and out, quick like a bunny. Me, I take a whole lot longer. Got to give the lady what she's there for. Ain't that right?"

"Um..." Milty blinked nervously. "That's correct. Yes, Sir." To be safe, he added, "Thank you, Sir."

"No problem. I aim to please. Like now, I'm gonna aim my piece at her snatch. Be going deep and working it a long time."

Elissa laid back on the bed and opened her arms to the Black sexpert. He knelt between her parted legs and eased down on top of her for another passionate kiss. When he levered himself up, his enviable tool was hard and ready to go. He put the rounded head of it against her pink slit, as he had said he would. Milty sniffled. He didn't want to witness this. Even so, his inferior dick

twitched. At some level, he was experiencing excitation. He was glad they wouldn't be able to see it if he got fully firm. His hand went to his hairless pubes. He touched himself and brought his member to a complete erection. Then a rush of guilt struck him and he pulled his fingers away.

Meanwhile, right in front of him, Jarelle was sliding into Elissa. She let out a long moan that rose and fell, followed by an extended sigh. From his angle, the jilted boyfriend could see the actual penetration. His view was unsettling. Jarelle established an unhurried rhythm. Elissa writhed under him. Her hips squirmed. She caressed his bulging biceps. Their activity made them perspire. That scent was joined by the one from between her legs. Milty knew the latter less from having intercourse than from his nose regularly being in that zone.

Elissa purred, "You're so big, Jarelle. You fill me up so much. With Milty, it was like he was using a finger to try to get me off. What you're giving me is what I really need. No girl could ever get off from what he's got. His is just a pinky-finger pecker."

"I got you," Jarelle told her. "Take you for a long ride." "With stops along the way for orgasms."
"For sure." He increased his tempo. "Maybe one real soon."

She inhaled sharply. "Yes. Put me over the top. I turn into such a slut when I'm in bed with you."

"In bed or bent over the kitchen table or kneeling on that deep pile carpet in the living room."

Elissa started to say something else, but he kicked into high gear. As he furiously poled her, she gasped, her toes curled, and she was hit by a sudden-onset climax. The girl cried out deliriously. Her entire body quivered for long seconds before settling back down. Jarelle slowed up while she took a moment to recuperate. Then he went back to his earlier rhythm, from before he went wild on her. She purred appreciatively and rubbed his shoulders. Milty couldn't look away. He kept his eyes on the sight of his girlfriend betraying him and being taken away perhaps forever.

True to Jarelle's boast, he used an entire sixty minutes. During that time, Elissa finished twice more. Just past the one-hour mark, he drove her into another. This time he allowed himself to lose control. The twin explosions of their simultaneous orgasms made Milty want to hide under the bed and lie to himself about his chances of regaining what he once had with Elissa.

"Day-am," Jarelle said after he had rolled off her and they lay side-by-side. "I can't wait to do that again... in a couple of hours."

She said, "I'll need that long to come down from my high."

He commented, "And between now and then, we can have more fun with our house pet." To the kneeling guy, he said, "Stand up and turn around, so we can see those red buns again."

Milty rose and showed them the rear view. Though the thong was back up, it left his nether cheeks uncovered. The pain in his balls had lessened but was still a harsh reminder of what Jarelle could do to him. It also recalled how Elissa had been turned on by her EX's suffering. That fact was also called up by the way she now enthused over his brightly colored bottom.

She must have been inspired, because she ordered, "Get back where you were, Milty. I don't want you to feel left out when it comes to sex, so I've got something for you."

To what was she referring? Was she going to tease his nipples. Even though that would add to his frustration, it would be better than nothing, considering how needy he was. Back on his knees, with his face easily accessible to her, he saw Elissa run her finger between her legs. When she brought it up, the end was covered by Jarelle's pearly ejaculate. She brought the unclean digit to Milty's lips and ran it across them, as if applying some sort of balm. He tensed up but accepted what she was doing. The alternative was to risk angering Jarelle and enduring the consequences. She gathered more and went on to paint his eyebrows, cheeks, and the hollow of his neck. Her finishing touch was to obtain more of the slimy stuff and rub it on the underside of his nose, making sure to get some in his nostrils.

"There you go," she said in a way that suggested she had done him a favor. "I like you with cock-snot on your face. And now you won't feel so left out. Too bad your dicky didn't get included in the fun, but that's what happens when you're hung like a toddler." She chortled and wiped the remainer of what was on her finger into his hair.

He could only hope that his situation would become less oppressive. Perhaps Jarelle wouldn't come to visit very often.

THREE WEEKS LATER.
Elissa enthused, "I'm so glad you moved in, Jarelle."

He told her, "I wouldn't have done it if Milty hadn't thought it was a good idea. Ain't that the truth, buddy?"

Milty was down on all fours again, but this time it was because he was cleaning the legs of all the furniture with a rag and polish. All he had on were a garter belt and stockings, plus peep-toe pumps with towering stiletto heels. He could barely walk in that footwear, which made it a relief to not be allowed to stand much of the time. In response to the Black youth's question, Milty's balls ached at the memory of the persuasion their new housemate had again used.

"Yes, Jarelle," the defeated one said humbly, his voice properly unmanly. "It was fantastic for you to move in."

"And," the interloper wanted to know, "didn't we give you a sweet new place to sleep?"

The laundry room could hardly fit that description. Instead of a bed, there was only a cot. The one advantage was that it put him close to the washer and dryer, as well as the sink where he hand-laundered Elissa's delicate panties. She encouraged him to sniff them before they were cleaned, to kiss the crotches and taste the flavor of her feminine center. Often, they were stained by Jarelle's spunk. The few amenities in his new living space were a clock to make him aware of the housework schedule he had to follow, a small dresser that contained only girly clothing, and an intercom that allowed the other two to contact him any time he was near it. They also got a kick from having the call box portion of it, which was in the main bedroom, active when they had sex. That forced Milty to have to listen and made sleep nearly impossible while they were at it. He endured sheer mental torment from hearing their bed-talk and the sounds of both foreplay and the main event.

Their cruelty did not abate. Between them, they found so many ways to crush Milty's ego and warp his sex drive. There wasn't a lot of physical punishment. They were more interested in what they could do to his thinking. Of course, there were still sufficient spankings, ball squeezing, and general pinching to keep him in a

constant state of anxiety, because he never knew when the next abuse might be delivered. All the while, they continued their altered narrative that assumed Milty took perverse pleasure in what was happening to him. He began to wonder if they were right.

Jarelle's natural instincts as a bully inspired Elissa to think up her own mistreatments for their victim. She restricted Milty's lavatory privileges, often making him wait until he was on the verge of wetting himself before allowing him to use the toilet. She would accompany Milty there and require him to release his bladder in short spurts, which he found not only uncomfortable but unforgettably humiliating. Sometimes, one or both of them would cause their target to drink large amounts of liquids to make him desperate more often to finish his business while being restricted. Later on, they made him use terms like 'potty' and 'tinkle' and 'go wee wee' when he asked for permission.

They also entertained themselves by making jibes at Milty, to see who could disturb him the most. Elissa had the best result of all when she taunted him about no longer being able to touch her breasts.

She got him so unnerved that he forgot himself, used his old

masculine voice, and angrily told her, "Those big boobs look ridiculous. They're too large to go with the rest of your figure. You dress to show them off, but men probably think they're fake anyway."

After he shut up, the way she glared at him made it evident just how far over the line he had stepped. He tried to apologize but his efforts were rejected. Jarelle wasn't home when it happened.

Like a mother dealing with a naughty child, Elissa told Milty, "Just wait until the man of the house gets back and I tell him what you said. I'm sure he'll know how to deal with you then."

Milty spent several nervous hours before the Black guy returned. Jarelle gave the miscreant a blistering scold-session.

"How dare you talk to my woman like that, Milty? You're a hell of a one to say anything about another person's body. Did you forget that you've got a dick that looks like it belongs on a miniature toy poodle? And what was that crap you gave her about how she dresses?" He grabbed Milty by the ear, gave it a twist, and walked him to a panel mirror that had recently been hung in the hallway, so the prisoner-in-panties would often see his reflection. When he was stopped in front of it this time, Jarelle demanded, "Tell me what you see in there, imbecile."

In pain and fearing that there would be another attack on his family jewels, Milty spoke in a quavering voice. "Yes, Sir. I see a... sissy... wearing a transparent baby doll nightie, ruffled panties, and shiny stockings."

"What else?" Jarelle wanted to know.

"Um, he doesn't have any body hair." Milty tried to think of what else to point out. "There's hardly any bump in those panties, because he has almost nothing where a real cock should be."

Elissa asked, "What about his face?"
"Oh. He has on plenty of very bright red lipstick."
"Does that make him extra cute?"
"I..." He whimpered. "Yes, it does. Yes, Ma'am."
"Then why don't you give him some kisses? Go on and smooch

the mirror."

It was one more shame to be added to the never-ending list of previous ones. He bent forward at the waist and pressed his lips to those of his doppelganger. His former girlfriend made him do it a dozen more times, spreading the prints around.

She said, "We're going to leave those marks there for a few days, as a reminder of how you talked to me. After that, I'll tell you when you may clean them off. At that time, I suggest you do a perfect job."

"And that's not all," Jarelle contributed. "I just had a brainstorm about something else we can do to drive home the message about what happens to a mouthy sissy when he insults my babe."

Not knowing what Jarelle had in mind took Milty to new extremes of wracked nerves. While he was so stressed, eager to do anything that might reduce their thirst for paybacks, they got him to sign several legal documents. What he didn't know until afterward was that he had transferred ownership of his home to Elissa. She also had the numbers changed on his bank accounts, and her name added to them. The money now belonged to both of them, except that only she had access to it. He had direct deposits for his salary, and had to abase himself to get money from her for public transportation after she took away his car keys, and for lunches. Sometimes she packed his midday meal in a brown paper bag that he wasn't to open until it was time to eat. He soon understood that what was in there would always be something unappetizing. She found out what foods he liked least and made sure to include those. His co-workers would come upon him in the breakroom, eating a triple helping of cold peas or a generous serving of black olives, two items that made him queasy.

At last, it was time to learn what poetic justice was going to be inflicted on him for insulting Elissa's exceptional chest-trophies. To prepare him, they gave the helpless one a glass of red wine. He didn't know that something had been added to it, in the form of a ground up pill. From an online source, using one of the charge cards that was in Milty's name but which he no longer had, Jarelle

had ordered a pair of huge fake knockers. They were startlingly lifelike and mounted on a flesh-tone upper-body cover that sealed in the back. Elissa put them on her now very much EX. The only other things he was allowed to wear were stockings and hooker heels. She jazzed up his face with cosmetics. He had to strut around the home he no longer owned, wagging his ass and licking his lips, like a real whore.

With Elissa looking on, Jarelle approached the faux ho as if he was a customer. He wanted to know, "How much is it to titty-fuck you?"

"What?" Milty didn't understand.

"I want you to lie on your back, so I can stick my rod between those jugs, with the knob of my cock in your mouth, while you suck me."

Milty choked on shock. "I can't do that," he blurted out. Then remembering that this was the result of the last time he had spoken unwisely, he amended, "I mean, that would be great. Terrific. I'd love doing that with you." Wanting to make it as agreeable to Jarelle as possible, to avoid ugly repercussions, he finished with, "I want it so much that I won't charge you a penny."

"That's what I like to hear," the Black punisher said. "How about if we head into the bedroom and get it on." It wasn't a question but a statement of expectations.

Elissa grinned devilishly at Milty. The bounteously double-bubbled failure started for their destination. He began with his legs stiff. Luckily for him, he remembered the way he was supposed to walk and switched to an exaggerated wiggle. His latex lovebags jiggled. At least he'd had enough practice on heels by then to move with minimal difficulty. He stretched out on the bed, face-up. Elissa tucked a fat pillow under his head to put his mouth at the correct angle to be stuffed full and overly-full. Then she went to Jarelle and wrapped her arms around him.

The busty girl said, "You know, if that slut on the bed gives you too good of a sucking, I'm going to be jealous and take out my anger on her ass and gonads."

"Yeah," he told her, "but if the tramp doesn't do it right, with plenty of tongue, it'll be me who whups her fanny and busts them balls."

That put Milty in a double bind. No matter how he performed, he was in trouble. His best course of action, he decided, was to give a spirted and highly satisfactory blowjob. It was better to have Elissa mad at him than Jarelle. She was the less powerful of the two sadists. But the reality of having to suck the cock of another man, of that bully, of the one who had stolen away his lover, was unthinkable. Yet there was no way out of his deteriorating dilemma.

Elissa leaned over the bed, her hooters nearly popping free from the skimpy top that barely contained them. She consolingly patted his male parts. To Milty's surprise, his underdeveloped penis got stiff and stood up. He could see the effect by parting his two artificial teats with his hands. What was happening? The answer was that what his housemates had added to his wine was an erectile disfunction drug, one sure to produce and maintain an erection with the slightest encouragement. Elissa's hands-on help to his receptive prong was quite sufficient to do it.

Jarelle got naked and hopped onto the bed. He straddled Milty's chest and told him to separate his bazooms again. The Black one's impressive organ was fitted between them. Next, the wearer had to push the globes together. His well-hung conqueror jerked his hips a few times, which was enough to bring him to full tumescence. He shifted his pelvis forward, putting the rounded head of his weapon against Milty's lips. Another shove forced it between them. Milty made a distressed sound. An added inch entered and then one more. His mouth was crammed full. Knowing what could result if he didn't make an exceptional effort, he swirled his tongue around the oral invader. He was forced to breathe through his nose. Jarelle leered down at him. With his lips stretched wide, Milty stared at the shaft protruding from his face. It was so close that he went cross-eyed as he tried to focus on it. Elissa saw that and laughed. She finger-flicked her former boyfriend's rigidity through the panties to remind him of how he was responding to his latest debasement. He started sucking. He tried to figure out why his puny prick wouldn't lose its hardness.

Milty decided to concentrate on satisfying Jarelle. The big guy's rocking aroused his human seat's nipples. Soon the main action was less one of service being provided and more of a face being raped. Even so, he on the receiving end wanted to do his best. He kept his lips tight and his tongue busy. He gagged. Elissa scowled warningly at Milty. It went on and on, until the supine sucker's jaws were sore, as was the back of his throat. When his torment was at its peak, Jarelle grunted.

"Gone bust my nut," he growled.

His cream was blasted into Milty's mouth and down his throat. It filled his cheeks. Some leaked out of the sides of his mouth. He was sickened but at least the horrible scene was winding down. Jarelle told him to milk out the final drops, which he did, though having his hand on that monster cock was so demeaning. After the Black bully withdrew, he got off the bed and faced Elissa.

Jarelle wanted her to tell him, "How did the sissy slut do?"

"He tried way too hard. I'm thinking he honestly is getting his kicks from everything we're doing to him."

"Sure acts like he does. He made love to my tool with his mouth better then good. The boy-bitch sure is trying to outdo you, girl."

"Now I'm going to show him how unhappy I am about that." She went to the closet and took out something, which she belted around her waist. "Sissy dearest, you'll be tickled to know that I bought this with money I found in your dresser, that you were hiding from me."

Milty told her, "I was saving that to buy you a present." "Well, I got one for myself. Something we can both enjoy."

She tightened straps that went around the tops of her thighs. Milty tried to see what she was doing, as she fitted something onto the front of the harness she now wore. When she turned to face him and came closer, he saw what it was. Thrusting out from her groin area was a hard rubber cock. She had gifted herself with a strap-on dildo. It was as big as Jarelle's cock, had a bulbous head, and the shaft was covered with bumps. If that sex toy was inserted where he feared it was meant to go, the hobnails would add to the pain.

Elissa said, "You might want to help me lube it up, panty-boy, before I stick it where in-the-out-door. Get up on all fours and face me." He did it. "Open your mouth." He stretched wide his already sore jaws. She unlidded a tube and squeezed out something onto his tongue. It tasted terrible. She explained, "That's fish paste. Should be a good lube. I'm so sorry about the flavor," she said with transparently false sympathy. "I'll put the

end of this tool in your gob and you can spread it around with your tongue. Here it comes. Say hello to my not-so-little friend."

The end of the dildo touched the roof of his mouth at the same time that it pressed down on his tongue. How was it ever going to fit into his rear passage? It might damage the narrow gasket. Trying to make it's passage into his body as smooth as possible, he got the awful tasting stuff all over it. Elissa applied it two more times to his tongue, smiling as she did it. He hoped that after he spread the third application onto the rump-rammer, it would be enough.

"Showtime!" She happily announced. "Turn around and let me see that pansy ass."

He rotated his body, so that his feet protruded over the edge of the mattress. That gave her easy access. What he hadn't seen was a loop under the base of the fake phallus. It was made of stretchy stuff. Elissa positioned the tip of the cock at his pucker. She gave one merciless shove to force it through his tightness. He cried out. With a series of short sharp jerks, she buried the girthy length all the way in. He was distracted by pain. That was why he wasn't aware of her stretching the loop and fitting it over his nut-sack. When she let it go, it snapped tightly around the top of his scrotum. She and Jarelle exchanged devilish grins.

She called out, "Ready, steady, go."

When Elissa pulled her hips back, the dildo slid most of the way out of Milty's bunghole. Simultaneously, the loop's attached line was stretched taut, making the circle of elastic material pull cruelly on the penetrated one's sac. He squealed like a pig. She slammed back in, causing him to wail for a different reason. The insideous combination made every stroke agonizing in both directions. It also put his sperm factories in jeopardy. Through a red haze he implored fate to spare his baby-makers. Hadn't he been unmanned enough already, in so many other ways? It seemed that Elissa didn't think so. She ravaged his rump, unconcerned about his ability to reproduce, or even to hold onto his nuggets. The bumps on the shaft made him wince. The woman went at it like a sex fiend on a spree. The strap-on was designed so that with the right dildo in it, the wearer would receive jolt after jolt of pleasure. She had the right dildo and took full advantage of it.

She asked Milty, her tone insinuating, "Is your miniature dick still hard, dork? Are you getting off on being hurt?"

"I don't know. I can't be stiff now. Not from all this."

Elissa halted her anal assault. "Reach back under there and check."

He did it. What he found made him gasp. "It is. I am."

His twin tormentors rocked with laughter. Jarelle said, "That proves it. He truly is King Kink."

"Or Queen Queer," Elissa offered.

More laughter. Milty shook his head, trying to deny what appeared to be irrefultable proof of his deep perversity. Elissa resumed humping him. She did it furiously, as if they were on a sinking lifeboat and she was operating a handpump to prevent it from sinking. Her breathing quickened. She was approaching a climax. A wild shout escaped her lips. Timed perfectly to accompany it came a sound from Milty that combined welcome release and a crushing dose of reality. He had at last gotten to ejaculate, but at the high cost of having it associated with the admission that he was just as twisted as they had been suggesting. As he peaked and came back down, the latter reaction took over.

He sobbed, "It can't be. I'm not some kind of freak. I don't want to be in panties and stockings. I don't want to be a tramp for men. There's no way I want my tail end violated. And yet... And yet..."

Victory! Elissa and Jarelle had achieved a major success. The poor pathetic boob was convinced he was what they had said.

Milty didn't sleep well that night. The sounds of his used-to-be

love and the bully having loud animated sex were impossible to ignore, especially because he was lying on the floor next to them, curled up on a doggy bed they had picked out of someone's trash.

His induced insomnia gave him time to think about what had transpired earlier. He was wrestling against the idea of being a sexual weirdo and was losing the fight.

In the morning, they had a surprise for him. The bedmates had used a condom. To accommodate Jarelle's cock, it had to be magnum size. It contained a heavy load of his semen. Elissa called Milty over to the bed. He got up stiffly, muscles aching, and crawled to them like a whipped cur. She showed him the heavily laden condom.

"This is for you, sicky. I'm sure it'll be better than caviar to a sexual sideshow attraction like you."

"I don't understand. What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Put it over your tongue and wear it like that all day. Yummy. The breakfast of champions, or at least champion, first class, prizewinning freakazoids."

Jarelle added, "We wanted it to be extra full, so you could get a good thick coating all over your tongue. That's why we each spit in it a few times." His tone turned mean as he ordered, "Now get it on your tongue and keep it there."

Milty fitted the latex sheath over his taster. It was stretched out from Jarelle's Black battering ram. By the time it was all the way on and the excess pulled snug, there was material bunched up

around the root of the wearer's tongue. It was so disgusting to have his organ of taste being marinated in seminal fluid and saliva. Worse was knowing that it would be on there for many hours. He gagged and made retching sounds, but his suffering provoked no mercy. Quite the opposite.

Elissa said, "We'll have to do this a lot."

Jarelle reminded her, "This was special occasion. I prefer to ride bareback. Most of the time, he'll be eating my cream from your twat."

"Or getting it directly from the source, after he sucks you to get it out."

"That's the way it's going to be for Messed-Up Milty. Busy, busy, busy."

"With us thinking up all sorts of nasty ways to mistreat him. But that's just fine. After all, we're only giving the mini-pecker princess-pervert what he wants."

Milton had to wonder if that last statement was true. He tried to dispute it in his mind but found he couldn't convince him that it wasn't accurate. Maybe he honestly was as twisted as they said, and perhaps even more so.

*********