A Sissy in the 22nd Century Pt. 04

Soon, her teeth came into play as well... Biting and nibbling and pinching at random points across his chest and neck. Yet more sources of pointed interaction that drove Cynthia's submissive practice-dummy mad with longing, whenever they detached. She sucked upon his neck and left a gleaming, purple hickey... a clear sign and message for any others that might love him. Soon joined by several others up and down his feeble frame and interspersed with the perfect indentations of her dental records that were becoming carved across his thighs and flanks. Jesse hated to think what Betsy might think, seeing those un-hideable traces. However, in this moment, his actual heart sped up with every new one she left.

The absolute control this harpy had simply taken, over his physical and spiritual self, was an intoxicating whirlpool of emotions he just couldn't escape. He had come here hoping for... something... From that blue-eyed boy half the block lusted after. But, what he had found instead... made the sissy's head spin with confused arousal. He had never felt like this before. No-one had been so casually cruel... not until that terrible afternoon he had spent staring up at the blue sky, as one unwashed delinquent after another gruntingly ejaculated onto his electrified body. Was this really what his inner self wanted? Was that what every patronising, mass-produced, 'motivational' meme or poster which told you to 'be true to yourself' meant? That he was the smallest ape. The pretty, little runt of the litter. Who would only really be happy if he let himself be pulled apart and used to breaking by the rest of his kind.

Cynthia was gasping now, too. Her face glowing red with the efforts of half-mending/half-tormenting her provided client. She was grinding her hips against the throbbing little lump she had grown from Jesse's groin. Squeezing it with the sopping cameltoe of her slowly-tearing tights. Feeling that thin material begin to give way, a fresh wave of panic rippled through her prey:

"D-Don't... l-let it go in!" He squeaked, trying to get the words out around his own panting tongue. "They'll know... and you'd h-have to p-pay!"

The masseuse laughed sardonically, pulling her back straight to grab a breath of fresher air.

"Pay? For you?! When I'd hardly even notice if it had gone in? No, you don't d-deserve that... I can get everything I need... l-like this..."

And, it was true. Jesse could feel the girl's body beginning to convulse on top of him just from the grinding friction of her thighs against his small shaft. She continued to rake those nails up and down his chest... but the sissy suddenly realised that Cynthia was at her limit, bucking with the orgasmic bliss of what she had done to him. While his own cock and soul still throbbed with a want for her to keep going. To squish it down beneath the press of her body-weight more and bite and scratch and tear at him for just. A. Little. Bit. Longer! He had never found himself in a position where someone else had got him into such a state and then reached their own climax first.

The terrifying teen deflated herself back down on to him, trembling with the after effects of her own climax... and he simply did not know what to do. His trapped little erection twitched and cried out to be squeezed and rubbed and crushed some more... but it did so to no avail... Ignored by the gushing flower of womanhood that nonetheless remained so tantalisingly close. Cynthia latched her mouth onto his neck once more, sucking and nibbling in a way that might almost have been affectionate again. Yet, Jesse was left staring at the ceiling... listening to his own thumping heartbeat fade.

Chapter 20: Seeking Release, but not Escape

"We'll do this again..." Promised Cynthia.

A threatening statement that they both knew Jesse would not disagree with. Even as he quailed with the still-frustrated after effects of today's 'massage session', his tender skin itched to be back beneath her scouring nails. The sissy was tossed out through the door with his clothes still in a bundle, leaving him to dress his naked form in the corridor. His twitching erection would just not go down, levering up a flap of his school skirt at the front. The embarrassing obviousness of this struggle only further hampering his attempts to calm it down. There was no option but to scurry along the corridor, hiding his red-cheeked shame as best he could.

"Did that help?" Came a calm voice from one of the doorways he passed. George was emerging still half-dressed from a room where two visibly naked female forms lounged uncaring. "I know Cyn can be... difficult. But she's actually pretty good with those hands, right?"

Jesse nearly squealed, turning his body away as the sight of the other boy's bare chest sent more waves of awkwardness rocketing through his loins. He got the distinct impression that the massages George received were considerably different from the one he did... but was not about to discuss that right now. He burbled out something that might have been words, but hurried on towards safety without waiting for any further reply. His only hope was that he wouldn't bump into Whitney or someone else on the rest of the journey. He needed Betsy. Needed her now more than he ever had before.

The suffering sissy was through the door and buried in the soft embrace of his best friend before she really knew what was happening. The young lady was wise enough to just stay wrapped around him until otherwise guided though. She was a little confused by the small, but solid, lump she felt being pressed against her... but quickly noted the teeth marks and purple blotches upon her precious thing's neck. The trembling creature didn't seem to know whether he wanted to burst into tears or bowl her over and dry hump her like a horny puppy. She just squeezed him tight until he could decide... either would be fine in her book.

"That Bitch!" The larger girl muttered under her breath, the nearest example of cold fury she ever really displayed in front of Jesse. "And George should have known better too, the moron... I thought I could trust him around you at least..."

Jesse had tried to shift blame away from the tall and handsome young man in his recounting of events, but apparently hadn't done so well enough. He was sat in Betsy's arms upon her bed, her large breasts acting as a pillow against his back. His friend and confidante was staring off into space, clearly thinking over her options in defending the territory she considered hers, which had been trodden on. Her hands had crept around beneath his skirt and were both cupping Jesse's hairless balls and absentmindedly stroking up and down his still-standing shaft. It was a habit of hers whenever she was thinking, really... but was certainly not helping the sissy's current predicament. He still felt caught in a limbo. Unable to forget the rush of sensations that hadn't quite managed to spill over, or completely fade away. The small, dark patch of dampness where his swollen flesh met fabric continued to grow.

"If she thinks she's going to get her hands on you again... she's got another thing coming!"

The determination in Betsy's voice was irrefutable, a law laid down. Yet, Jesse was not so sure. He didn't ever want to upset this protector who had kept such creatures at bay for all these years... But, in his deepest heart, he knew for a fact that if Cynthia cornered him in the corridor tomorrow and told him to lie back down upon her bed... he would do so without hesitation. Some microscopic, fundamental switch in his spirit, or genetics, or algorithm-altered chemical concoction of a brain meant that he would do exactly as he was told by anyone who was confident enough to tell him. Even just thinking about it sent another shiver of humiliating excitement sparking through his veins. Behind him, the girl who had claimed his virginity boiled with jealous rage. Yet, every beat in Jesse's chest that took him another step away from that unfinished business seemed to draw him back toward the situation which would fulfil it. For the first time in his life... The sissy considered what the word 'slut' actually implied, and what it might mean to inhabit it.

Chapter 21: A Meal Full of Changes

"I mean, she didn't even consider that it might impact your grades, leaving marks like that! What if you miss out on some people signing up to access your photos... 'cause they think you're some cheap whore instead of your perfect, innocent little self?!"

Betsy was still loudly railing against Cynthia's misdemeanours an hour or so later. The focus of her fury having slipped out in directions only she would follow it down. She seemed utterly determined that Jesse should be the purest and highest scoring sissy slutwife that ever had there been. As if transferring her own frustrations over academic prowess and the paywall that stopped her having him all to herself, onto an idea that he had to be untouchable by any but the most discerning customers.

She had dragged him to the cafeteria, despite the sissy's mewling protestations. His problem still hadn't gone down... and he was beginning to worry there was actually something very wrong. His whole body still tingled with sensitivity, so that even the brush of his own clothing against exposed skin sent sparks across his vision. Betsy had tried to reassure him:

"Don't be silly... It's just the new hormone packages the algorithm will have been giving you. I've read about this. 1st Class sluts like you get all the most cutting edge treatments and engineering, to make sure they can keep up with whatever their future masters might want."

The girl even sighed wistfully. Dreaming up the manicured lawns where the idle rich took picnics together along with their leashed collections of creatures like Jesse.

"I hear some mistresses like their pets to have erections that never go away, so they can decorate them with ribbons or jewellery or things. There's a whole competitive hobby scene around 'penis arranging' ...I think I saved a gallery somewhere I could show you... And hyper-sensitivity is all the rage in cuties like you. That'll just be how your body will work now, so I expect you'll get used to what sets it off..."

Betsy seemed to catch herself out there, remembering what had set it off and being swept up again in a fit of fuming jealousy. Jesse just stirred his food around his plate... Once again not sure he wanted to eat something that was clearly playing havoc with even his very base senses. Would he be happier, if he just gulped it all down and accepted it? Let the universe make of him what it was clearly determined to. Would that answer all those questions buzzing around his skull, or at least burn them all away? Was that other saccharine voice in the back of his head; the one that was already anxiously wondering if John and Miranda would actually take her out again and a little proudly excited at which marks might still be visible on the Maglev tomorrow. Was that really his true self? Could he let himself become her?

Jesse forced himself to eat. Though whether just for survival or towards another aim even he couldn't tell. His best friend's hand still kept straying into his lap, unable to resist the draw of his twitching, trembling reactions. Even when Whitney and Claire strode over and settled themselves down opposite, offering more ears for her to fill with targeted vilification. Neither seemed particularly surprised or outraged by Cynthia's behaviour, but offered the required snorts and snide comments of support regardless.

Jesse kept quiet and just tried not to let his overworked nerves overwhelm him. It seemed like the more passionate Betsy became in her decrying of that despicable bitch, the more her spare hand unthinkingly pumped away in the sissy's crotch. Until, his mind filling with several flashes of blinding light... Jesse realised he was about to make a mess of himself, right there in the middle of the dining hall. The horror of that hovered over him, just waiting for his head to clear from the utter need for release. Except Betsy was a lot more clocked on to what was occurring than he realised. With barely a break in conversation, she leaned down and wrapped her lips around the helmet of him. The sudden, wet warmth of her mouth and tongue letting him buck his small hips upwards and pump stream after stream of semen up into her throat. Holding onto the back of her head for dear life, the teenage femboy looked around in terror for all the eyes that must surely be watching as he simply couldn't stop cumming for what seemed like a minute or more. Yet... no-one seemed to actually give them more than a glance. Claire and Whitney just kept on talking, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Jesse wound his hands into his best friend's hair and gasped as her tongue cleaned up every last drop from his now raw and tender cock. Then released her to settle back upright in her seat, gulping and licking her lips. No-one else even blinked. Just another evening's meal in Home 23.

End Of Part 4

Thank you for reading! Jesse's story will be continued in part 5. However, if you cannot wait, this tale is being ported over from another site where it is updated serially chapter by chapter. Please see my bio for a link, or wait patiently for longer, more edited chunks.

Methods of supporting my writing can also be found there, should you wish, and I am always delighted to hear constructive criticism from fans... or random vitriol from morons.

Ever so much love, JerkGently

Addendum:

The City 7 Sheet

Local Happenings Posted Every Day

Has the fizz fallen out of your fucktoy?

Is your office slut all limp and lifeless?

Spanky Dan's Submissive Revitalisation Dojo is here to help!

Spanky Dan and his team of expert dominatrixes have been bringing life back into washed-up sex objects for years. They've seen thousands of used and abused sluts who just don't seem to approach each day of cunny-sucking and constant fucking with the gusto they used to. With just one week's course of trade-secret techniques and chemical concoctions, they can bring even the saggiest cocksleeve and most flaccid of flesh-dildos back to life!

Our customers can hardly believe the new lease on life their personal comfort companions or business morale workers come back with after such a short break from duties:

"I thought Daisy was a write off... We were already eyeing up replacements in the auction pages, but the prices just keep going up and up. So I called the number on the advert and, wouldn't you know it... She came back swallowing cocks down deeper than she ever had before. I don't know what Dan does to 'em... but damn does it work!"

"I bought Andres for my husband a good few years back, as an anniversary present. We'd both been very happy with him for years... yet lately he just hadn't seemed to be able to 'get it up' for either of us. He was very apologetic, but we really felt the cost of feeding and housing him was beginning to go to waste. Only 'Spanky Dan' stepped in at just the right moment! Andres can keep us both gasping for HOURS now... though he never speaks about what those big ladies did to him..."

So don't waste another minute! Don't get scammed by those ever-rising prices on the Algorithm's public listings! Put some pep back into the property you already own and call Spanky Dan now on 07726-563-669!

Second-hand Subs:

F, 43, aesthetically 21, 3rd Class Office toy, Was left ownerless when company went under and reclaimed as part of bankruptcy proceedings. Given full refurbish of all holes and a new set of breasts. Practically good as new. $170,000 or best offer.

H, 29, presents as M, 2nd class bedwarmer, Given as a wedding present by husband's family, but came to me as part of divorce settlement. Too many sore memories of squeezing him between us. Very loyal and loving though. $300,000 to take home today.

M, 64, Presents as F, Aesthetically 40-something, 2nd Class Theatre Whore, Talented, if vintage, with all the distinctive traits of early submissive generations. Still puts on a very good show as a jaded, mature lady of the night. Can sing beautifully. Shame we can't afford to keep her. Looking for a home with a specialist collector who still knows how to appreciate such artistry. Price to be discussed.

M, 35, Aesthetically 25, heavily modified, Qualified personal trainer, Previous owner bought him away from a public gym for personal use. Seems to have made many black-market, Algorithm un-approved alterations and additions. Has two, permanently erect phalluses that produce far more ejaculate than average. Muscular build is impressive to say the least, but mental cognisance... less so. A good companion for a lady with very specific wants. Has been approved for resale, but requires additional licensing. $450,000.

Lost and Found:

Lost. Little sub boy, 5'3", short brown hair, answers to 'Annabelle'. We took him on a day trip to the inner-city beaches and must have been a little too inebriated... because by the end no-one could remember where we'd left him. We do hope the poor thing's not still buried in the sand. $1000 for any information that leads to recovery.

Found. The 3rd class redhead girl from last week. Was found hanging by her wrists and ankles in a derelict warehouse, leaking cum from every hole. Must've been stolen by some Dropouts for an evening of fun. Is currently being kept in the office of the lot's security. If left unclaimed, will become property of Securicorp.

Found. Hermaphrodite puppydog. Complete with tail plug and attachable ears. Doesn't seem to remember how to talk, just pants and barks. Surprised they aren't chipped, considering the level of training and modification. Was huddled up in our doghouse this morning with Spot... think they might have a thing for one another.