Just Like a Real Girl Pt. 03

"Such a good girl," Mark commented.

"Yes she is," Marshall agreed, his eyes closed and his head tilted upwards as I licked and sucked.

Something poked me in the back of the neck and Mike said, "Wait your turn," before pulling my head off of Marshall's cock and replacing it with his own, which was long and thick. I turned my body to face Mark and began jerking off Marshall with my right hand, and I searched for the thing that had poked me in the neck using my left hand, I came across something that made me stop and look.

Matt's cock, as Clint had warned, was massive; so thick I couldn't completely close my hand around it, and easily a foot long. "Jesus!" I gasped, marveling at it.

If I had been blessed/cursed with a cock that size, I'm fairly certain that I'd be unsuitable for gainful employment; I'd probably sign up for Welfare and stay home sucking my own cock all day, every day. As it was, Matt probably wasn't interested in sucking cock (not even his own) and instead preferred someone else to do that for him. God only knows how many women (and men) he'd ruined with that monster.

After a moment, Mark began gently slapping his cock against my cheek as he teased, "Hello? Anybody home? Dick waiting to be sucked here..."

Laughing at my own expense, I went back down on him while I did my best to give Matt and Marshall both a handjob while Mike patiently took matters into his own hands while he waited for his turn. I felt my nervousness begin to melt away as I tasted Mark's cum and heard him moan.

"Enough already!" Matt whined, pulling my head off of Mark's cock and making me turn to face him.

"Dude!" Mark said.

"I can't wait anymore!" Mark explained before shoving half of his cock into my mouth. Instead of waiting for me to suck it, he grabbed hold of both sides of my head and began to fuck it. I planted my palms against his stomach to push him away and the moment I touched him he let out a loud moan and shot his load into my mouth. I nearly choked on it and shoved him away from me before yakking his cum mixed with my spit and bile onto the shag carpet I was kneeling on.

The other four men in the room burst into laughter and Clint said to Matt, "Damn Matt, that might be a new record for you. What was that, ten seconds?"

Mike, nudging Matt out of the way and standing in his place answered, "I think you're being generous," before sliding his respectable 7 or so inches into my mouth, still lubricated with his friend's cum: clearly, these boys didn't mind following each other.

I began sucking Mike's cock while Matt excused himself to the bathroom to clean up and the other two moved to the bed behind me. I had begun to notice that I was feeling hot, and wet; slowly but surely I was giving in to the moment, and had lost most if not all of my earlier inhibitions. Mike placed a hand on the top of my head and started shoving himself as deep inside of me as he could fit, and I surprised myself by taking it with no more than a little gagging and a couple of brief moments where I had to stop and catch my breath, spit and cum hanging off my chin in ropes stretching down to my thighs.

"Okay, Mike," I heard Mark say, "I think we're ready for her."

He pulled out of me and helped me to my feet before leading me to the bed. Marshall and Mark were standing on opposite sides of it, and there were black vinyl ropes tied into slip knots on each corner, all connected between the mattress and the boxed spring. Mark held out a ball-gag and asked, "Ready Krissy?"

I nodded though I wasn't exactly sure what he meant (ready for WHAT exactly?) but Mike had already seen my "green-light-nod" and immediately seized me from behind, grabbing both of my arms and pinning them behind my back. Mark rushed forward and jammed the gag into my mouth and pulled it tight around the back of my head before tying the straps together, securing it.

Just then, Matt came out of the bathroom and saw what was happening and jumped into the melee. "We doing this now?" he asked, grabbing me by the back of the neck and helping Mike move me to the bed without waiting for an answer. I caught a brief glimpse of Clint smiling at me from behind his camera before I was shoved face down onto the musty smelling mattress and all four men took up the responsibility of getting my wrists and ankles into the opposing loops and pulling them tight against my limbs.

I felt a sharp slap against my latex-skirt covered ass and heard Mark say, "Time!" as though this was a rodeo, and he'd just roped a calf or something.

I knew what was coming next and made no effort to resist. To the contrary, I focused on three key elements: breathing, staying calm, and relaxing my hole.

Apparently unsatisfied that his blowjob had been so brief, Marshall was the first to climb onto the bed and take up position behind me. He grabbed me by the hips and lifted them from the bedding long enough for Mike to shove a pair of pillows under me, thus presenting my ass to them at a more compromising angle, one which Marshall took quick advantage of with no more than a little spit on his palm for lubricant.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took it, biting my lip and letting out a few "Ow's" as he entered me, only to open my eyes and see Clint's camera mere inches from my face as he filmed my reaction. From that point on, I stopped paying attention to what was being done as well as who was doing it; men were inside of me, rotating in and out so many times that they all became the same dick from my perspective. That is, everyone except Matt; when HE jumped into the rotation, I was well aware of it.

I was vaguely aware that they occasionally spoke to me, but full sentences alluded me and I only caught partial phrases and terms like; stupid slut, or, dumb bitch, or, fucking cunt. None of that mattered to me, though. I was traveling to another plain of existence located deep within subspace, spread out wide open while four men took brief turns with me, slamming their hips into my ass and pounding my body until I was numb to it.

I noticed that Clint had moved from the chair at one point, and I considered the possibility that he might have left me there with his friends, only to spot him on the other side of the bed, recording me from various angles.

Marshall was the first to finish inside of me; he let out what might have been some comical sounds under different circumstances; almost like the woofing of an old Husky that caught the scent of something outside. "Huh, huh, HUHHHHHHHH."

One man down.

I think Mark jumped in next; he was too big to be Mike and not big enough to be Matt. I was good and worn in at that point, and my moans betrayed the fact that I'd begun to enjoy myself. I arched my back the best that I could and began thrusting my ass back at the man behind me, who took it as in invitation to fuck me even harder. His balls were slapping against my taint as he pounded me, and I began to emit little grunts and moans that grew higher and higher with every frenzied thrust.

I heard a long grumbling moan coming from behind me that seemed to go on longer normal human lungs were capable of producing, and just when I thought that Mark couldn't possibly produce the sound, or any sound for that matter, he let out a long, "FUHHHHHHHHHHHHK," nearer to a scream than a cry as he exploded inside of me. When his balls were empty, he collapsed on top of me, his body hot and slick with sweat as his cock continued to throb.

He buried his face in my neck, and panting he said, "My god, Krissy... Clint was right, that was the tightest piece of ass I've ever had."

I looked up to see Clint's camera mere inches from my face; I can only imagine what

I must have looked like by that point. "How are you doing, Krissy?" he asked. "Having a good time?"

Unable to answer due to the gag in my mouth, I nodded feebly and let out a, "Mmm, hmmmph."

"Good girl."

I felt Mark climb off of me and heard him say, "Mike, you're up," after which two strong hands gripped my ass cheeks and spread them apart, and a hot wet tongue began probing my hole. Apparently, Mike was a little more open-minded than his friends were, and not only did he not mind following two of his friends, he enjoyed dining on their cum as it leaked out of me.

Matt chimed in with, "Jesus that's gross," from across the room.

"Shut the fuck up," Clint said tersely. "We've all seen some of the skanks you pick up... to each their own, don't be rude."

Meanwhile, seemingly nonplussed by the remark, Mike continued licking and sucking at my hole for several more minutes before I felt the bed sag beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed and pressed the tip of his cock into me.

Marshall said something that gave Mike temporary pause: "Uhh Clint? We seem to be drawing a crowd..."

Every head in the room turned to see what he was talking about, mine included (the best I could manage,) and we saw two men peering through the window at us. Marshall then moved to pull the smoke stained curtains closed when Clint stopped him, "Hang on a second. Any of you guys mind?"

"No, I guess not," they murmured.

"How about you, Krissy, do YOU mind?"

I thought about it for a moment; I'd been posting homemade videos of myself servicing men for years by that point, and this wasn't really that much different with the exception that this was in real time. Lying there, bound and gagged with the tip of Mike's cock inside of me I realized that it was something of a turn on. It felt risky, but safe... and dirty in all the right ways.

I shook my head.

"You don't mind?" Clint, repeated for clarification.

I shook my head, after which he said, "Fuck it, open them up."

Marshall yanked the curtains wide open and revealed several men (and a few women) standing on the terrace outside our room. Most had their backs turned, but they quickly took notice of what was happening inside and began to crowd in closer to the window.

Mike's fingers dug into the flesh of my ass as he pushed himself inside of me in one sharp thrust, causing me to cry out. Clint was there with the camera, catching every moment of my experience.

Mike's cock wasn't as girthy as his friends', but it was long and curved downwards and he knew just how to hit my P-spot, and within seconds I could feel myself beginning to leak into my panties. With four men watching from within the room and who knew how many watching from outside, I absolved myself of any pretense of humility and just let myself go with it. I could feel a steady stream of cum trickling out of me, and I didn't care.

What Mike lacked in size, he more than made up for in stamina because he was able to fuck me with the reliability and relentless timing of a metronome for the better part of an hour. I'd completely soaked the pillows that were propping me up and the smell of cum (theirs and mine) was thick in the air. The ropes were digging into my wrists and ankles, and my body was completely exhausted from struggling against them.

I was only vaguely aware when Mike finished and pulled out, giving my ass a little bite as he climbed off of the bed. Even in my diminished state, feeling as though my brains had quite literally been fucked out of my head, I knew that there was one more to go: Matt.

I knew perfectly well that I could have called an end to the whole thing then and there, and part of me wanted to, but I hated the idea of disappointing anyone, especially Clint. So, as Matt opened an extra-large condom package with his teeth and began rolling it down as far as it would go (for those in the know, condoms actually have numbers printed on the at the base, but few of us ever need to roll them down that far,) after which he spit in one palm and began jerking himself off as he climbed onto the bed.

Despite having spent the previous hour (or two?) having my ass fucked and filled by three well-endowed men, I wasn't at all prepared for what followed.

Possessing the same finite amount of bed-side manner as regular manners, Matt stuffed his massive cock into me with little or no concern for my comfort or pain. I buried my face into the mattress and screamed until I began to see spots and felt as though I was on the verge of passing out. An absurd thought occurred to me: Maybe this is why Matt was kind of a jerk; he was gifted with the thing that most men claimed want to possess (a huge cock,) only to find it something of a curse, and the number of people (men and women) who could accommodate his enormous size, extremely limited.

I dropped into the deepest recesses of sub-space, falling farther and farther until there was only blackness, and only the merest awareness of the pain. It was the first time I was ever aware of being fucked almost to the point of unconsciousness. And then, as suddenly as it had all begun, it was over.

I slid back into reality to find my ass vacant, and men were loosening the ropes binding my limbs.

* * *

I awoke several hours later, exhausted and sore, and laying in the wet spot I'd made with my own seminal fluid which I'd produced throughout the ordeal. I lifted my head from the mattress and pulled a handful of my wig aside so I could see. The digital clock bolted down to the nightstand read 3:15 AM, and the T.V. was playing porn. In the flicker of the screen, I saw Clint sitting there; he'd fallen asleep, the other four men were gone, probably for quite some time.

I sat up and let out a groan, my entire body ached, and my wrists and ankles bore deep angry-looking red welts from the ropes. My hole was another story altogether; I knew it would be several weeks of healing before I'd be comfortable again.

I rose to my feet and nearly fell over; my limbs wouldn't follow my brain's directions, and I staggered to the bathroom, hardly able to walk.

My face resembled that of a clown caught out in a rainstorm, and makeup was smeared all over my cheeks in smudges of black and red, while the places I'd actually applied the makeup was inexplicably bare.

I yanked off my wig and dropped it to the floor and began to undress. I tossed my soiled panties into the bathtub and then turned on the faucets, filling the rust stained tub while I took off the rest of my clothes and organized them into a pile. I used a bottle of motel shampoo to make bubbles for the bath and climbed into it, oblivious to how hot the water was, and laid there soaking for at least half an hour before Clint woke up and noticed I was no longer dozing on the bed.

After tapping twice on the bathroom door, he opened it and poked his head in. "Hey, are you alright?"

I shrugged. "I think so... I don't really know."

That made him smile. "Okay, well I'll be just out here if you need anything," he said, giving me a wink before closing the door, leaving me to soak.

I rinsed off my panties in the tub and used the motel-blow-dryer to dry them out once I was out of the tub. I felt a little humiliated to re-dress in the clothes I'd just been fucked in, but that had obviously been part of Clint's plan from the beginning; they were the only clothes I had with me, and thus they'd be the clothes I'd have to wear home.

I wouldn't have been surprised if Clint had left after confirming that I was okay, but he didn't leave me there; he waited until I re-emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed but without the benefit of makeup. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was now 4:05 AM.

"Feel better?" Clint asked.

I shrugged, the words eluding me entirely.

"Well," I hate to rush you, but it'll be dawn in about an hour. I imagine you'd like to get home while it's still dark."

He was right about that.

I barely spoke as Clint walked me out of the room, leaving the key on the table and locking the door behind us as we left. He placed an arm on my shoulder and walked me all the way to my car as though he was my bodyguard. When we reached it, he gave me a hug and said something I'll never forget: "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen, I wasn't even touching myself and I almost came. You were just like a girl tonight, only better."

I laughed weakly in spite of myself and opened the door to my car. Clint stopped me long enough to take my head in both hands and place a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I'll message you later, just to make sure you're okay."

I was so overwhelmed by gratitude I almost started crying again, but I choked the tears back and nodded, "Thanks."

I started my car and was about to drive away when he suddenly remembered and said, "Hey," before digging into his pocket and coming out with a mini-sd card, which he handed to me. "I think there's some pretty hot stuff on there, I hope you'll share it with me once you've had a chance to watch it, but that's totally up to you."

Taking the card from his hand, I smiled up at him from the driver's seat and smiled. "You bet."

He watched me drive off that morning, and the sky was beginning to show signs of light by the time I arrived home and hurried inside. True to his word, Clint messaged me later that day. I was still struggling with wrapping my head around the things I'd done, much of which was forgotten until I saw the video firsthand, but his concern for my well being made me blush.

I told him I was fine, a little more than sore, but fine nonetheless.

"That's good to hear," he wrote back. "It'll probably take a bit for you to bounce back, you took quite a pounding." Then he added something I'd forgotten all about, "As soon as you're ready, I'll book us a room at the 4-star. I made you my whore, now I'm going to make you my Princess."

My heart soared.

Two weekends later, we did just that; we spent a Friday and Saturday night at the nicest hotel I'd ever been in, and unlike our last encounter, this time it was just the two of us. There was no bondage or degradation this time, Clint was gentle and loving, and I came just as many times as he did. We moved in together three months later and have been enjoying each other ever since.

He even invites Marshall, Mark, Mike and Matt over to join us from time to time, though to this day I still don't know their real names. But that doesn't matter much, does it?

That's what I have come to realize; the names and labels we give to ourselves are just window-dressing for what lies within, and I never would have seen past my own mask if not for Clint. And for that, I'm eternally grateful, and never miss an opportunity to show him.

END OF STORY

Author's Note:

First, I'd like to thank you all for reading and providing positive feedback on my work, it's the only compensation I receive for the long hours I put into each of my stories.

Secondly, it might interest (and possibly disappoint) you to know that this was a work of fiction. And while the specific events never actually occurred, they are taken from my experiences as a sissy spanning the last twenty years. For example, I HAVE invited a man over to my apartment for a late night blowjob only to find myself having the best sex of my life, and I have been tied to a bed and gang-fucked by four well endowed men... the rest is just fantasy, and wishful thinking. I'd like to think my "Clint" is out there somewhere and I just haven't met him yet, maybe yours is out there too. If I ever meet him, you'll surely read about it.

Until then, enjoy my fantasies, and don't forget to rate me!

Krissy