Becoming a Bitch

bytone12of12©

It was supposed to be simple. A blind date, set up online. A hot chick. Me getting laid for the first time in a while. You know. Simple. And that's what actually happened. Sort of.

I get to the bar, I see Meghan across the way, sitting pretty in a short black dress, legs crossed, sipping on a martini like she's sucking my cock already. Far as I'm concerned, I'm as good as fucked, the way she's making herself out to be: smooth thighs, big, round tits, lips that could blow the cap off a bottle of Bud, legs long as tomorrow and an ass as big as today. Fuck, I feel I'm in the bag already, so I sidle up, introduce myself, and we're off to the races, cranking shot after shot until we're both stumbling down under back at her place.

Fuck, man. Velvet dress crazing my fingers, lips slaying my lips, fingertips biting my ass, and my hips grinding her till the juice come drooling out my cock, wetting my boxers with a slick line of dick juice. All was good, sliding the dress off her shoulders. Sucked her tits like a starving baby, she moaning like a milked cow, grinding back, grasping my head, crazed and dazed. Got her to her panties, and she giggles as I bite her belly, licking her sides, and I'm halfway to coming without her so much as unzipping my pants to dance her tongue around my cum-shitting shaft, when I feel something a little bit wrong, a little bit off. A lump where there ought not be a lump, hills where there should be valleys and a sack where there ought be gaping, aching lips waiting my tongue to tease the walls to gushing waterfalls, and I think to myself "Shit, of all the panties I could be landing, I find myself in tranny's."

But it's too little, too late, as my cock's a rock, and not likely to soften lightly any time soon. Besides, Meghan knows she's got the upper hand while she's standing, and I'm on my knees, mouth aping surprise up to her sparkling, mischievous eyes, and she smiles back as she peels back her pink-hearted panties to pop out a stiffy, long as tomorrow and big as today, springing like a Slinkie against my hollow cherry cheek.

And the first words out of her mouth are: "Suck it, bitch."

And before I can reply, she fucking my mouth, a smoothness grating my lips, her fingertips clutching the base of my skull, her cock-tip gracing the back of my throat, and her balls slapping my chin like a midget clown teasing a tiger in a steel cage. Part of me wants to bite down, chop her to size, spit out the stump in her face and laugh as she bleeds herself onto the carpet. That part of me, though, is overwhelmed by a wild ecstasy electrocuting my tongue and lips, a static electricity building between my mouth and her cock, my cheeks and her thighs, my chin and her heavy balls, slapping staccato against my jaw, and the only thing I can hear, the only words in my brain, edging out all resistance thrust by thrust are,

Suck. It. Bitch.

Suck. It. Bitch.

Suck. It. Bitch.

But right before I can start to reply, right before I feel my mouth begin to beg for more, to loosen and receive her cock, to work like a whore at the docks of yore, she pulls out, leaving me gasping and choking, ready for more but unable to ask, and, in between the coughs of a virgin throat, I hear her command:

"Bitches work on hands and knees. Now, you either be my bitch, or you leave with your tail tucked between your legs, and pretend to protect an ass you will always know is mine. "

My body replied before my brain could think, and before I knew it, I was on all fours, presenting my pink ass to her, looking over my shoulder with pleading eyes, waiting to be made hers. She merely snarled at my hasty answer.

"Bitches don't look back, and bitches certainly don't hold their heads high."

She grabbed my balls and twisted, eliciting a squeal I never knew existed, collapsing my elbows, dropping my shoulders to the ground, crushing my face against the carpet. She let go, I pressed my face into the floor and raised my ass as far as I could, straining until the pain passed from my dangling balls, presenting themselves for another squeeze. She continued:

"Better. But your first response was just lust, and this one, simply terror. I could break you, but broken bitches don't last long. I need to know your answer is not being given in error."

I heard her slinking across the room, and I followed, on all fours, when she beckoned out the bedroom. She led me, naked, through her house until we stopped at the front door. She opened it to reveal the trimmed bushes of her garden, and threw before me a black leather collar, studded and chained, engrained with silver letters "Bitch" upon the ring. She said, simply,

"Choose."

A cold gust blew upon my naked body, a chill down my spine, but I didn't even think of that. I didn't think of the long walk to my car, the shamed naked drive home. I didn't think of how I could hide this encounter from my friends or future girl friends. I didn't think of my parents, or of my boss or my brothers. I only thought of the ache on my lips, the emptiness in my belly, and the quivering desire in my ass, the dirty hole crying to be punctured, the word stuck in my throat where she left it with her quivering with her cock.

So I chose. I nuzzled the collar in front of me, then nuzzled her crotch above me. I sniffed her ass and licked her balls, and as I worshiped her groin, I heard her close the door before me. An excitement leapt from my loins, and I almost sat up and begged. Instead, I simply licked at her cock like a Chihuahua at a milk bone while Meghan slipped the leather collar around my throat. It clicked behind my neck, the chain clinked, and she led me back to her room.

Excited beyond reason, I tugged to the center of the room, her patient hand holding the chain around my neck. When we arrived, I pressed my face into the carpet and lifted my ass. She kicked my legs further apart and I felt her cock nudge the opening of my bitch pussy. It was slick with pre-cum, and, overjoyed to know I had aroused her to such a state, I wiggled my ass against her cock to smear her juices against my waiting asshole. She smacked my ass for my impatience, then circled my sphincter with her cock head to slick my waiting opening.

Then, without warning, she thrust into me. My ass filled with her cock, and when I thought it could fill no more, she thrust in again. I bolstered myself against the floor with my forearms, but she kept pushing, filling me slow, second after second, sliding in to depths I never knew. When she caught a snag, she would pull back, slap my ass again, the push in once more. Finally, three slaps later, I felt her balls thunk against my ass, accompanied by a satisfied grunt and another spanking. My mind was reeling already, but then she began thrusting, first a few centimeters in and out, then an inch.

As she thrusted, I began to know the meaning of bitch. Each thrust brought it in again, deeper, harder, each thrust stretching me, filling me, another thrust, another spanking, another spanking, another ecstatic squeal from my lips, prodding her further and faster into me. Meanwhile, my cock and balls were whipping between my legs, filled with cum to bursting, me wanting desperately to stroke myself off, but needing all my strength to keep my head from getting bashed and bruised against the floor. Then, all of a sudden, I felt myself start to drip.

What little of my mind was operative realized I was going to cum, with no assistance other than the increasingly desperate thrusting and spanking at my backside. We had settled into a rhythm, thurst spank moan, thrust spank moan, thrust spank moan; but when I felt myself beginning to drizzle onto the carpet from my cock, a strange, eerie squealing moan squeezed out of my throat. Whatever it was set Meghan to insanity. A wild groan released behind me, and all of a sudden, she curled her body around mine and began humping me raw.

My position collapsed. I couldn't hold myself up against her onslaught. Her breasts against my back, her thrusting erratic and strong, her breath in my ear, and deep inside, I felt a drizzling from her cock, and something about that, about knowing I was no longer my own man, that I was a bitch owned and collared by a sexy tranny humping hard at my ass and about to jizz in the deepest nether regions of my body, something about that set me to insanity, set me screaming:

"Yes, yes, fuck me! I'm your little bitch! Fuck me like a little bitch!"

And I must've screamed this for minutes, but she kept going, she kept going until she fucked me into catatonia, until I had no voice to urge her fucking, until her fucking was pure, blind lust surging into my asshole, long past destroyed, almost numb with her frantic desire to make me hers, when suddenly, a spasm, a groan like a horse in heat, and a spurting in my ass lasting more than minutes, convulsing and clamping her body against mine, no longer capable of holding two frantically fucking bodies on mere elbows.

She peeled herself off of me, and then, with a strength and deftness I thought impossible after such a fucking, she flipped me onto my back and lifted my legs into the air. All of a sudden, I was staring at my dripping, as of yet unspent cock head. And all the said was,

"Open."

and started pumping my cock furiously. A second later, my cum exploded onto my face and into my mouth, and when I thought I was done, she squeezed my balls until all the cum had spurted out for sure.

Spent and exhausted, I saw her walk over to the side of the room, and then heard a click. Her voice wafted, amused, to my ears:

"We'll watch this in the morning. And we'll watch every night's fun the morning after. Well... I will. You may be a bit... busy."

She strode above my spent body.

"And how does it feel to know that you are a bitch? That you are MY bitch?"

My breathing heaved out of my body. I did not know how to answer. But my body did. Sore and aching, it lifted itself of its own accord, and my tongue licked thankfully at Meghan's balls. Her cock hardened in pleasure, and soon, my mouth was full of her again. She pulled the chain, the collar tightened, and my throat squealed in joyous anticipation of her coming.

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