tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersHome Invasion Ch. 02

Home Invasion Ch. 02

byXtinaSmith2017©

He awoke with a soft little sigh and for the first time, he could remember he felt only warmth and comfort. For as long as his memory went back, whenever he had been pulled from the vestiges of sleep he was never afforded even a moment's respite from the anxieties and worries the waking world held for him. There was always something suddenly in the forefront of his mind to bring him worry and panic, something that made him always wish he had slept just a little bit longer, but this morning, even though he had only slept for a few hours, it had been one of the most refreshing sleep of his life.

Which, he thought, was particularly odd, given his situation. He thought he would've had a lot of new material for his anxieties to work off of. Desperate for money he broken into what he had thought had been an empty home seeking to steal anything he could sell, but had, to his immediate terror and his eventual, albeit confused, pleasant surprise, ended up face to face with a tall, thick ebony goddess, who had, in turn for his would be crime, captured him, used him and ultimately, blackmailed him.

A week of servitude to her was his assigned punishment, in exchange she would neither release the footage she had diligently recorded of him to the ever interested internet or contact the police in regards to the genuine crimes he had committed.

Of course, that servitude was more carnal than domestic, entailing something that, up until last night, he would never have considered himself doing. Serving her thick, black, cock.

But he couldn't deny, and she had seen, that a significant part of him had enjoyed being the cause of someone's pleasure, not their pain, for a change, and the fact that the recipient was a woman as stunningly gorgeous as Charlene was the cherry on top of his delightful confusion.

After their initial 'activities' the night before he had washed himself up of her 'gift' and come to join her in bed. She had insisted that he strip and sleep with her naked, as she had said she enjoyed the sensations of another person pressed against her curved form, someone to wrap her arms around and snuggle with.

Even if he had been feeling rebellious about his new state of blackmailed servitude he doubted he would've resisted that particular request, given the overwhelming allure of her body.

They had lain down together and she had drawn him into her arms, making him her little spoon as she held her newly minted white boy to her body, her soft cock snuggling cosily against his cheeks and her truly massive breasts pressed warmly to his back.

It was this that he had awoken to and it was this that he knew he wanted to keep.

She had said several times that she found him attractive, but realistically he knew that that attraction was based purely off of his looks, which, for whatever reason, seemed to be her thing. He knew she would have no interest in his personality or person, he was after all a thief. Worse, he wasn't even a good or successful thief.

He was, he knew, in for a week of being used, not as a boyfriend, but as a toy. A pair of hands and holes with which she could pleasure herself with before she dumped him out of her house like the trash he was in her eyes and continued on happily with her life, sure in the knowledge that she had gotten her full worth from him and gotten rid of him before his poisonous criminal ways became a factor in her home.

But the more thought he gave it, the more he found he didn't want that. He knew about as much of Charlene as she knew about him, but he knew enough to understand that he would be happier with her here than he had been anywhere else in his life, though, that wasn't saying all that much.

So that was his plan, of sorts. He had a week to persuade Charlene that he could be more to her than a source of pleasure, that he could be someone to spend more time with, to get to know, maybe to love.

Which he wasn't going to achieve laying here with her body pressed to his, no matter how comfortable it was. Although only the first light of day was beginning to flow through the curtains, he lightly untangled himself from the heavy sleeper that was his Mistress, he supposed, and made for the bathroom.

A time later Charlene awoke to the buzz of her alarm, yawning as she stretched out her arms and rolled onto her back, her heavy breasts spilling across her body as she shifted comfortably in the warmth of her bed.

It was darker than usual, she thought and glanced through squinted, tired eyes at her alarm. She had, she recalled sleepily, set it to go off earlier than usual, to give herself the opportunity to tidy her house before work after that boy had ransacked it. That boy. Her white boy. The bed was empty.

She sat up quickly and swore, glancing around. The bed and the surrounding room was completely devoid of her white boy-toy, and, cursing still, she dragged herself quickly from her bed, her long hair frizzed from the night's activities and her natural habit of moving in her sleep.

She hurriedly pulled on a bathrobe, looping the tie under her breasts to help support them as she eyed herself very briefly in the mirror, frowning at the sorry state of her hair before she stormed from the room, making her way downstairs.

He had done a runner, she was sure of it, and she couldn't say she was overly surprised. Though she had the video to blackmail him with, she didn't even know his name, and while she could post the video online, there were so many amateur videos out there he had probably figured it was likely to be lost in the sea of the many where no one he knew would view it.

She had, she knew, been stupid to be so careless, not to get more details about who he was and she suspected she had paid the price for her mistake, whatever he had been aiming to steal off of her last night he had probably more than doubled once he woke and while she slept.

She came down her stairs and found the place, to her immediate surprise, tidy.

Pursing her lips, suspicions rising, she made her way towards the kitchen, a light spilling from the partially open door.

As she nudged it quietly open she moved to stand in the doorway seeing the boy, standing in nothing but his boxer shorts, body on display as he poured the first lot of a bowl of pancake batter into a hot pan. A half empty cup of coffee on the counter beside him and a pot brewed.

He didn't notice her standing there at first, focusing instead on his cooking efforts and she opted to simply watch him for a few long moments, the hot white boy she had taken, abused, blackmailed and claimed, making breakfast in her kitchen after having gotten up early to tidy up his mess. This might be a better deal than she had initially thought.

"What's your name, white boy." She said, voice low and husky, smirking as she watched him jump in surprise at his realisation that he wasn't, in fact, alone. The sight of him, gorgeous and pale, so easily domesticated and in his underwear, no less, caused her member to swell in her robes, it was, to her, the hottest thing she had seen in a good long while, and given that she had seen him with his lips wrapped around her pole just the night before...

"Oh! Uh, Dylan." He said with a small smile, "Pancakes?"

She eyed him for a few moments longer then nodded, "Please." She stepped back through to her living room and sat herself down, her state of exhaustion catching up as the anxieties of him escaping dissipated. She sank into the welcoming comfort of the chair, she had had precious few hours sleep, having been up in the first few hours of the morning to capture and tame her pet and then again now to clean up his mess.

She zoned out thinking about it, at least until Dylan, or so he claimed to be called, offered her a cup.

Looking up at him she took it, taking a curious sip.

"Okay, I'll bite... How did you know I took it milk and two sugars." She asked, her voice radiating suspicion as she looked him over with narrowed eyes as he made his way back towards the kitchen, pausing only to look over at her with an almost cute expression, a victorious smirk on his lips.

"Because I know you like things white and sweet?"

Charlene let out a brief chuckle, but gripped her cup gratefully, "Pfff, lucky guess white boy."

Smirking he returned to the kitchen and in short time presented her with a short stack of pancakes, over which he had drizzled maple syrup and placed a lump of butter on top.

She took it and he sat down beside her, a smaller stack on his plate, one of them torn, one of them a little blackened. He had given her the ones that had come out perfect she noticed, curiously.

"Alright. I'll bite again. What're you doing?" she asked as she ate, her pancakes were perfect, soft and fluffy.

Sat beside her he looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't have to do any of this. You aren't here of your own free will, what's with all the extras huh? Trying to make me go light on you?"

He paused a little, not meeting her gaze, choosing instead to take a sip of his own coffee, black, she noted. "I just want to keep you happy so you don't post that video online."

She watched him for a few long moments and shrugged. If her toy wanted to play housewife for bonus points then that was fine by her, it wouldn't detract from the time she would spend railing him, so why should she complain?

"I assume you don't work." She said dryly, and predictably, he shook his head, "And got anyone to notice you're missing for a week?"

He hesitated and nodded.

"A girlfriend?" Charlene asked, a slight smirk on her lips, but again he shook his head.

"Mm, well, whoever it is give them a call and tell them everything's okay, tell them you're on a training week or something, learning how to plumb or some shit." She grinned to herself.

He hesitated before replying, "Do you work?" he asked, curious and eager to learn more about her.

"As a matter of fact I do and I've got work today. And not that I don't trust you alone in my house for eight hours but before I go I'm either going to lock you up somewhere or find out who you really are, so if you run I can personally send your cocksucking video to your parents, siblings, so on and so forth."

"Okay, but what do you do?" he continued and it brought her to pause. She had threatened to out his video to his loved ones, if he had any, and he had just glossed over it in favour of more questions about her work?

"Er, well, I work for a finance firm. HR stuff." She went on and he nodded.

"What's it like?"

She glanced at him as she chewed. Even when she had been dating people interest in her work had lasted for about as long as it took for her to say the words 'finance' and 'human resources'.

"Thousand questions much? Basically, I look after the cities branch and make sure all the staff are happy, make sure nothing goes wrong and ensure everyone remains professional but content."

That sounds interesting" he smiled.

"Oh yeah?" she asked.

"Mm! Tell me more?"

And she did, telling him what her routine usually was and about some of her co-workers, about a recent drama involving two coworkers who had recently begun a relationship in the office, but who had somehow garnered the blessing of the manager so Charlene had been forced to reach a compromise where they saw each other, but, following one or two 'incidents' weren't allowed to go to the toilets at the same time together.

He had listened, actually listened, not just sat there while she had spoken words at him. He had enjoyed hearing about her life, about the political intrigue of office life and had laughed when she spoke about the two co-workers being caught going at it in the bathrooms. Surprisingly, she had said, it was the man who had come out looking more embarrassed.

It was odd she thought, she enjoyed her work, but work was work and she'd never really had the opportunity to talk to someone about it outside of the office, but part of her had to admit having the outlet was nice, she was enjoying having someone to listen to her.

They finished breakfast and as she cradled her cup, watching as he cleared away the plates to take them into the kitchen, putting them down beside the other dirty dishes she had left from, she knew, several previous nights.

Not needing to tidy up the mess or even spend time making breakfast she found herself with an unusual amount of free time before work, and, as she watched the boy walk back in in just his shorts she knew what to fill it with.

"Come, wait here." She said, draining the last of her coffee and setting the cup down, patting the chair beside her once more as she herself stood, moving to fetch her phone from upstairs. She returned and passed it to him.

Dylan eyed her with confusion for a moment as he held her unlocked smartphone.

"Go to my facebook, find your profile and add it as a friend." She said and he blinked.

He knew what that meant. as her friend on facebook, she would be able to see all of his friends and family, giving her the perfect platform to share their video on should he renegade on his deal. Knowing this he hesitated, considering lying to save his skin, pretending he didn't have one. While he wanted more from their relationship, this presented a genuine risk to him. If he did this there would be no going back, no chance of escape or reprieve without serious consequences on his social network.

He searched for his profile, found it, and added it. He offered to hand the phone back but she shook her head.

"Log me out and log yourself in, accept the add."

With only a little reluctance he did so before again offering her the phone.

This time she took it and spent a few minutes browsing through his profile, reading his posts, looking at his pictures, checking out his history.

"Hmm. What went wrong, Dylan?" she asked, finally.

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"Just last year you were joining a news outlet. Just as an intern, sure, but it was a start."

He sighed, "I er... Got accused of trying to steal money from them."

She raised her eyebrows. "And did you?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded.

"Why?" she asked.

He stayed silent but she had no move to brush past it on account of his silence. She wanted to know.

He eventually relented, "My sister... She doesn't have much and she's always asking... Well, demanding money. I give her all I can, but, sometimes she needs more and... I need to get it for her, so I get it however I can."

Charlene frowned some, flicking through his profile and finding the sister. She was pretty, thin and busty, though they were obviously fake, her lips plumped and pink, her hair dyed blonde. In her profile picture, she was flaunting a new phone and a sweeping array of dollar bills, her lips pursed in the all too common duck face. Charlene hated her instantly.

"She looks like a cunt." She said plainly and saw Dylan frown, looking down.

"She's my little sister." He said gently.

"So? She obviously doesn't need the money, what does she do if you don't give it to her?" she pressed.

This time he didn't answer even as the silence dragged on, looking down awkwardly.

Charlene sighed as the silence dragged on further but she shrugged. "Well, whatever. It's not my problem." she said dismissively and that too seemed to sting him.

He was, she was coming to realise, more sensitive than even she had assumed.

"Well I've got time to kill and I fancy a steamy shower." She said, standing with a grimace of effort, still tired and now full of delicious breakfast food she glanced across to him and raised her eyebrows, "Are you coming or what?"

He blinked in surprise, whatever dark cloud that had been looming over him vanishing in an instant as he rose and nodded keenly, moving ahead of her to climb the stairs first.

Charlene rolled her eyes and smirked as she followed on behind, watching his ass through his boxers as he climbed the stairs and they both made for the bathroom.

Inside, as Charlene disrobed, Dylan turned the shower on and set the temperature, it wasn't a shower head mounted to the wall inside of a bathtub like what he had back at his own incredibly meagre place, but an independent shower stall, spacious with an expensive looking power shower dominating it. Charlene adored it and found that the strength and heat of the power shower helped relax her muscles and sooth her occasional backache from having to cope with her massive breasts, but without the time expenditure that came with running and soaking in a bath. While a bath did offer her more comfort and relief when she needed it, she simply didn't have time for that whole routine in the mornings before work and generally saved it for the days when work had been difficult and her back was giving her trouble.

Dylan turned to face her and froze, for the first time he saw her in the full light, nude and baring all to him. She stood there, hands on her hips as she watched him watching her, he drank in the view, her ebony skin, her curvy figure culminating in her truly impressive bust, but ultimately, in terms of eye drawing potential, even that came in second to the semi-hard cock and full dark balls that rested between her thighs, menacing and enticing in surprisingly equal measures.

"Like what you see white boy?" she teased, knowing that while he would never admit it to her, part of him did like what she was and maybe even what she could do.

He hesitated for a moment, before just smiling ever so softly and turning away, slinking his boxers down to reveal his ass to her as he stepped into the shower.

She blinked and shrugged ever so lightly before moving to follow.

There was almost room for two in the unit, but as she stepped inside, with neither of them willing to brush against the cold walls they found themselves instead pressing against one another slightly, his slender body to her busty form.

As they lounged under the warmth Charlene watched the relaxing Dylan with a growing measure of uncertainty, her plan of dominating and controlling him for a week was already running into difficulty, each idea that she conjured on what he could do to satisfy her outside of worshipping her cock, he seemed to be doing proactively, not only doing them keenly, but going so far as to take the lead.

This became prominent as, while she thought about tasks to assign him, he palmed a handful of liquid soap and, ignoring himself, began to rub it into her skin, lathering her in the white bubbles.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, tilting her head back and letting the water finally wrest control her wild hair. His hands were soft and gentle as they caressed over her body, washing her carefully, not, as she had assumed he would, just focusing on her tits. Not that he didn't have a good grope and squeeze when he did get to them, but he paid them just as much attention as he did everything else. Well, almost everything.

"You er, missed a spot, white boy." she grinned slightly, nodding downwards, "Clean it." She said as he rinsed the soap from her skin.

He bit his lip a little and reached down, a soft hand snaking around her cock, which was still semi-hard between her thighs and he gave it a tentative stroke, beginning to coat it with the soap.

With a smile, she slid her hands up his smooth pale skin to rest on his shoulders where she began to push, urging him down to his knees, "Mm, didn't say with your hands."

Swallowing, he followed her direction, blushing as he did. He had sort of enjoyed this the night before, eventually, but just because he had then he felt suddenly uncertain he would now. His mind had been clouded with her beauty and exoticness and finding himself again face to face with her massive, swelling cock gave him serious pause for thought.

"Come on baby." She purred softly, "You were so good at this yesterday, don't freeze up on me now. You want me to be happy? Then suck my cock, worship it." she hesitated, "Otherwise, I'll just fuck your face again. Either way, I drain my balls." she grinned.

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byXtinaSmith2017© 4 comments/ 17929 views/ 38 favorites

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