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By Keith Hernandez

I was living with Scott now. I kept my place, partly for appearances, partly as a back up plan, a hedge. But 99 percent of the time I was at Scott’s.

It was very clear that he got off on topping me. On humiliating me. He loved showing his dominance. Sometimes it was just ordering me around—pick up this, put this on, go get that…rub my feet.

Sometimes it was a spanking. Never a playful, light spanking either. When I got spanked I got spanked hard. For punishment. And to put me in my place.

Scott liked that he was getting over another man. He got off on turning out another man. A straight male. A formerly straight male. He had yet to ask me to do anything femme. It was clear he liked that I was a man. He could fuck women anytime. And he did fuck women. There were times I would sleep in the guest room while he screwed some chick’s brains out.

Sometimes he would make me give head after she left. Either that night or maybe in the morning. He loved that I sucked him off like that. With his cock still reeking of pussy. He never asked me to watch or participate. No three-ways yet.

I wondered if he would toss me out if he found a girl. A girl to get serious with. But he never had one over for more than a night or two. He still mostly fucked me. I know I pleased him. I know it pleased him that I gave it up to him. I know it pleased him that on some level it always hurt my pride to give it up. On some level he got off on the fact that I submitted each and every time.

It wasn’t that I was naturally gay. Not at all. It was that Scott turned me gay. That is what he loved, that is what he got off on, and it thrilled him over and over. Each and every load I swallowed, each and every time I took it up the ass, it turned him on.

Sometimes he would amp things up. Sometimes he needed to really break me.

One day he told me that I was to “present myself” when he came home, whenever he texted me the time. 5 o’clock or 7 or 10pm or whenever he said.

“Present myself?” I asked.

“Yes,” Scott said.

If I got a text like that, no matter what, I had to be waiting on the rug in the entryway, with my head down on the floor, my ass upturned, lubed, and ready. I never took off my jock, I knew that was a no-no unless expressly permitted.

So there I was, waiting…my shaved hole spread and facing the door as the key turned. The door opened…and sometimes he walked right on past me like nothing. Other times he kicked the door shut and dropped right behind me, entering me roughly and giving my rear end a savage fucking until he exploded deep inside me.

Sometimes I took it like a man, gritting my teeth. But sometimes it got to me…

Sometimes it broke me and I came like a woman. Squealing, crying out his name, begging him to stop.

“Please no. Please don’t make me cummm oh God please not like this…unngh unnnngg!”

But it was no use. When I reached a certain point I started groaning from somewhere deep inside, leaking and dripping semen as I ramped towards an orgasm. And then my begging would switch. Then I begged him to keep going…then I begged him not to stop.

“Keep going sirrrr…ungh ungh ohhh don’t stoppp! ohhh it’s your puss Daddeee please make me pleeease God don’t stoppp ohhhh fuuuuuckk…”

And I would have an orgasm from being fucked up the ass. I didn’t even need to jack off, although sometimes I would. I would come right there on the rug while that big thick cock plugged me hard and deep.

It left me no pride. No masculinity at all remained when he was done with me. And Scott would rise to his feet and walk off like no big deal. He tore my ass apart and ground my manhood under his heel, and then made himself a sandwich. I would crawl to the wall and pull myself up before limping off to the bathroom.

One time I flipped on my back and was holding my legs spread way apart when he came in. He liked that. I could tell by the way he shoved into me and held my legs against his chest while I whimpered and struggled to take his size.

I was softly moaning with each thrust and crying out when he went uncomfortably deep. I could feel he was hitting my prostate and I knew no matter how hard I fought, he was probably going to make me cum.

Scott turned me on my side and the next thing I know his hand grabbed my dick and started to pump it. Wow. He had never done that before and I just lost it.

“Ohhhh no no no, you’re going to make me cum…ohhhh ohhhh!” I couldn’t believe he was going to jack me off and make me cum while fucked me.

I had no control. In a few moments I was spurting my load on the rug and screeching like a bitch in heat. He got me good that time. I was panting and dazed at his utter dominance of my sex.

Scott pulled out with a hard grunt and sprayed my face with jizz before standing. I let some of the sticky strings run into my mouth and tasted the bitter spunk.

“Clean up the rug,” Scott said. “You came all over it.”

“Yes…Yes sir,” I said meekly, trying to pull it together.


One ankara travesti week, however, Scott switched things up. Whenever he fucked me, he finished before I could. Even if I was almost there, even if he was giving me a reach around, even if I was begging like a total slut, he would pull out.

I was never allowed to masturbate or relieve myself, so as the days piled up, so did my sexual tension. He would fondle my nipples, and tongue my ears and the back of my neck. He spent extra time teasing my hole, but he would not let me get off.

I didn’t dare say anything, but I pleaded with my eyes and groaned in frustration as he would pull out and empty his big balls all over my face. It was agonizing. I sucked on him and would turn and offer my pussy, hopeful he would make me cum. But he would put my mouth back on his cock and finish, or jack off on me.

The next day, Scott told me he was having some guys over to play poker.

One of the guys was a mutual acquaintance. The other people I didn’t know. I didn’t think anything about it at first, but on the night of the game he mentioned me waiting on everyone. All this time I thought I was going to be playing.

But no, Scott wasn’t going to let me play. In fact, I was going to be serving and bringing everyone drinks or whatever they wanted.

“Oh. Okay,” I said, realizing I was to be a glorified maid for the night.

Scott was particular about what I wore that night too. First, I had to put on tennis shoes and long socks that pulled up over my knees. My shirt was a form-fitting tee that was so short it didn’t reach my waistline. A jock was out—I had to wear a woman’s thong instead.

Scott wanted me to wear a girl’s mini-skirt too, but I begged him to let me wear something else.

“Please, I will look like…a woman…in the skirt. Please can I just wear shorts?”

Scott relented and I packed my cheeks into some snug shorts instead. He liked how my ass looked in the tight shorts, so at least I avoided the humiliation of being in a skirt.

The guests finally starting arriving and I hung back as long as I could. I felt really self-conscious when Scott introduced me and told them to let me know if they needed anything because I would get it.

I could swear the guys’ eyes roamed up and down my body and I could swear they smiled knowingly. I was dressed slutty and I felt gay. As the evening got started Scott kept calling me his “boy” and making me wait on everyone.

The last guy that arrived came with two beautiful girls. I mean, they were knock-outs. Cute with big chests spilling out of titty shirts. One spoke with a Euro accent of some kind. It freaked me out a little and I ducked into the hall. Scott noticed and followed me.

“You didn’t say there would be girls here,” I whispered.

“So what?” Scott said.

“I don’t know it’s…it’s just,” I really couldn’t put my finger on why it bothered me. There was something embarrassing about it. I was wearing knee-high socks and skin-tight booty shorts and two hot chicks would see me like that.

“You worried I’m going to fuck them?” Scott said, with a chortle. Whatever my problem, he was having none of it. He spun me around and stepped back before delivering a very loud crack on my rear, taking my breath away in one painful blow.

“Now treat them extra nice…” Scott said, pointing at me and grabbing his crotch to re-adjust his monster. “Or else.”

I didn’t want to find out what the “or else” was. My ass cheek burned. That was the end of my rebellion. I took a moment to swallow my pride and then followed Scott back out, avoiding eye contact and hoping no one heard anything.

The drinks flowed and cigars were lit as the game began, and I became the center of attention more than I would have liked. I filled a glass and leaned over the table and I felt a hand caress my rear end. I looked back and it was Scott, smiling and giving me a little squeeze when I straightened up.

The two women were the worst. They commented on everything I did, drawing attention to the fact that I was the house bitch. Maybe they meant well, I don’t know. They liked my shoes, they liked my hair, they liked how I smelled. They laughed and wanted to “tip me” and put bills in the waistband of my thong which poked out and hugged my hips.

They complimented my body and they wouldn’t stop talking about how great my ass looked.

“How do you get such a pert, toned butt?”

“Girl you are absolutely packing booty.”

“Where do you work out?”

It all made me more self-conscious. I tried to laugh off all the silly compliments and tell them “a little mother nature and a lot of work in the gym.” I wasn’t a woman and I didn’t want to have a conversation about what kind of body lotion I used. It was all terribly emasculating.

I glanced at Scott one time and he was loving it. I knew at that moment that parading me around was exactly what he had in mind.

One of the guys watched me prep a drink for Scott and said that he needed a “house ankara travestileri boy” too.

“Yeah where did you find this little cutie?” one of the girls chimed in. I said something to try and fob it off but Scott jumped in.

“Well we go way back,” he said, tossing his cards in and folding. When I came over he took his hand and rubbed my butt, making no attempt to hide it. He took his hand and slid it under my crack and pressed up on my taint. My face went red.

“Awww…he’s shy,” one of the girls said, laughing.

“Nah, he ain’t that shy,” Scott said. “This one has some special talents.” He spread one of his big legs and sat me on his lap. Mortified on the inside, I just smiled. The guys were looking right at me.

“Like what kind of talents?” One of them finally asked.

“He can cum hands-free,” Scott said matter-of-factly.

The table roared. The girls shrieked.

“Whaaaaat?” One of the guys yelled.

I looked up at the ceiling in utter embarrassment but I did smile. What else could I do?

“I swear to God he has a clit…about 8 inches up his ass,” Scott said, grinning.

While everyone was losing it I shimmied off Scott’s lap and retreated behind the kitchen counter and slammed a shot. I don’t remember what I said but the card game was on hold.

“I knew it,” the Euro girl said. “I knew it. You have better product than all these cave men! I knew you had to be gay.”

Scott waved his hand at her. “Oh no no, he’s not gay. I assure you of that. In fact, he just got out of an engagement, right?”

I nodded and poured myself another. I had a bad feeling. Like the turkey the day before Thanksgiving.

“I wanted him to wear a skirt tonight but he refused…said it was too gay or something,” Scott said.

The guys around the table laughed and one of them slid his chair back and put the Euro on his lap.

“I’d like to see that,” someone said. Everyone agreed and clapped and demanded I show them the skirt.

“See?” Scott said triumphantly. “Go get the skirt!”

After some chanting and table pounding I returned with the skirt, holding it up like a trophy.

“No no put it on!”

I tilted my head and protested but Scott ordered me to change on the spot. In front of everyone!

Reluctantly, I slid my shorts down and kicked them off. Scott ordered me to turn around and for a moment the room fell silent as I exposed my backside and lifted the skirt. It barely covered my meaty ass cheeks.

“There! Happy?” I said as the table clapped and whistled.

The game resumed but from then on, it seemed as thought the mood changed from cards and booze to feeling me up. I would approach the table and a hand would slide up and pinch a cheek. When I turned around someone would just say “Not me!” and at that moment another hand would squeeze my cheek.

I couldn’t go near the table without being manhandled. They slapped my ass and rubbed my taint. They ran their big hands all over my ass, sliding their fingers in my crack. My smallish dick was chubbing up from all the attention and when someone pulled me onto their lap, I could feel something hard as I squirmed to get up and get away.

The girls didn’t like not being the center of attention and they pulled down their tops. Then they flashed their nips. The guys hooted and pretty soon they were sitting there with nothing but their flimsy bras pulled to the side and their jugs hanging out.

Guys started to bust out of the game and first one, then another guy picked up one of the chicks and carried them to our bedrooms. A minute later the unmistakeable sound of sex started wafting through the apartment.

“Yeah they are both smashing those bitches,” Scott announced after poking his head in.

“Shit man, are we going to get some head at least?” one of the guys said. Everyone laughed.

“Hell no man! That one from Slovakia or wherever is Kevin’s girl,” Scott said.

I was getting a little drunk and with half the party in the other room banging away, all eyes turned to me. I mean, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that I was next on the menu.

“Why don’t we make this next hand for your bitch?” Scott loved that idea. He hoisted me up and put me on the table. I was the prize for the next hand.

One of the dudes won and everyone looked at each other like “Now what?”

“Here you go,” Scott said, breaking the ice. “I will give you his panties and we can play for a little more.”

At that he stood and peeled down my thong as I sat on the poker table. He handed it to the winner and they dealt again. I cupped my junk in my hand while a couple of guys groped me.

Scott won and the other guys booed. He picked me up and spun me around on his lap so my naked ass was exposed and upturned. I was flushed with shame to have all the guys see me like this. I tucked my balls and little soft dick into the waistband of the skirt while Scott showed me off.

Scott asked if they wanted to see my “little pink pussy” and then spread my cheeks.

“Oh my God!” I heard travesti ankara someone gasp. “Look! He doesn’t even have a butthole…he’s got, he’s got a butt-line!”

It was true. Scott had fucked my asshole from an “o” to a “l” shape. The normal, round pucker of a tight sphincter had been replaced by a crease. But it was clean and pink and the guys approved.

“Damn man, it is like a pussy…shit, I mean it kind of is,” one guy said, obviously wearing beer googles.

Scott spit on my anus and let the guys rub and finger it lightly. He then carried me over to the arm of the couch and bent me over it, unzipping his pants. I pleaded for mercy at that point.

“Scott don’t do this…please just finger me, don’t full on fuck me here. Not like this.”

Scott took a big glob of saliva and lubed up his knob. I was in full begging mode.

“I will suck you all off I swear, just please don’t fuck me in front of everyone…”

It was no use. While everyone stared, big Scott started to enter me raw, with nothing but spit.

“Ohhhhh God,” I moaned as he pressed his huge dong into my butt. Having Scott’s hard cock up my ass was no easy task under normal conditions. But like this it was torture. I pressed out and tried my best to take it. Scott spit a couple more times and I could feel him trying to get deeper.

“Ohhhhh fuuuuuck! It’s too big!” I couldn’t contain my cries. The guys from the poker game gathered around but out of view. They were standing around behind Scott and he told one of them to go into the bathroom sink and get lube.

Scott pulled out and sat down on the couch, pulling me into his lap and then ripping the skirt off of me with one hand while I straddled him and put my face into his neck.

Now with proper lube, Scott was going to give me a proper fucking. He held me up by my hips as his big hard cock stood straight up like a huge fleshy club. Someone in the room marveled at the size of Scott’s dick, now on full erect display.

“Dude is hung…seriously hung.” I heard the Euro woman agree. They were finished and now watching the show.

I could feel the cool lube on the tip of Scott’s penis as it slid into my crack and rested on my sore anal ring. Scott was so thick I still had to concentrate on relaxing. He was hard as a rock. Putting on a show was turning him on.

“Say you’re straight,” he whispered as my ass started to stretch around his cock.

I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t do anything but whimper as he began to lower me onto his manhood inch by inch.

“Say it,” he said as he slid me slowly down, turning me into his bitch once again.

“I’m straight…” I moaned out loud, much to the delight of the onlookers. “I’m straight…”

As Scott bottomed out, his balls against my cheeks, he whispered “Say you’re my bitch.”

“I’m your bitch…” I repeated it as Scott slid me up to the top of his cock.

“Say you’re my bitch Daddy,” he whispered.

“I’m—-ohhh I”m your bitch, Daddy,” I moaned as he bottomed out again.

I repeated everything he told me to say no matter what. No matter how degrading. He kept sliding me all the way up to the tip and then slowly back down to the root.

He was driving me insane. My toes and feet curled and my back arched as the tingles turned into crackles of electric pleasure from the slow, full length strokes. The people watching me get fucked by Scott’s big cock clinked their glasses and made comments but they got quieter quieter. It was like watching a master cocksman at work. There was certain level of awe as he was bringing me to orgasm just by fucking me in the ass.

I felt my body flush with ecstasy and shame as he began to pull me down harder and faster.

“I’m your girl Daddy! Ohhhh!”

“You own me! Ohhh you own this ass…”

“I’m a sissy bitch…Oh! Oh God you’re so deep I can feel it!”

Scott whispered “Are you my straight slut?”

“I’m your straight slut Daddy…Daddeeee ohhh!” And with that Scott flipped me over and pushed me face down and ass up into the couch cushions. He pushed my hard dick between my legs and pushed my knees together.

It must have been quite a display, my cock and balls exposed and trapped behind my inner thighs. Scott’s huge cock poised at the entrance to my vulnerable rectum, about to ram inside.

“Tell Daddy you’re ready to come.”

I gasped and panted “I—I’m—I’m ready to cum Daddy.”

He looked back. “You guys ready to see a straight little cumslut squirt?”

I didn’t hear what anyone said because I groaned so loud as Scott slid into me. I felt him fully enter me and then he began to fuck me good and hard. He knew I was ready. He knew I was on edge. He knew I would empty my balls in front of everyone, involuntarily, without any way to control myself.

He knew I wasn’t straight anymore. He knew he owned me. He knew he broke me long ago. Tonight he just wanted to show it off.

Over the next minute or two I had one of the longest and strongest orgasms I could remember. As Scott hammered me, I felt my whole body start to almost cramp up. It started with my balls and spread everywhere until I felt like I was going to piss all over. But instead my penis just started to pop, shooting squirts of semen with every downstroke of Scott’s horsecock.

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