Trixie's Chastity 03

I found all of them crowded around the table, working very elaborate and expensive looking computer gear. Jamal was working a mouse around screens on two laptops, cutting and editing out several scenes from the first raw DVDs.

They were enjoying my predicament from the basement bondage and gang rape.

But it really hadn't been rape if I'd secretly fantasized about being taken just like that for years, was it?

I wasn't even embarrassed about it anymore. In fact, sucking two strange cocks and presenting myself to be fucked on the sofa had seemed like a pleasant vacation tonight.

My thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Without thinking, I went to answer it. There was a tall skinny black man about 50 years old grinning when he got his first look at me.

"Uncle El!" James yelled. He came over to pull the man in, hugging him.

"Yo bitch won't let ya bust yo nut t'home, you come to the right place, man. This fine little sissyboy drain your Johnson like a pro."

Uncle El looked me over again, licked his lips, and grinned. He moved over to me and cupped one of my fake tits as he slid his other hand around to cup my ass closer to him. Feeling something hard against his thigh, he lifted up my short pink maid skirt and burst out laughing when he saw my cockette straining at its tiny steel prison.

Jamal said "Whatever you want, man. This Trixie bitch do it. You say it, he suck you off right here in the open doorway to his own house. Bend over and beg you to fuck his faggot ass, too. What you want to drink? Shit, Trixie. Get my uncle a good brandy."

I curtseyed and told uncle El it was nice to meet him, and to be sure to ask for anything he wanted. I really wanted a glass of brandy myself, but had a glass of wine with dinner and didn't want Tammy to disapprove. She was watching me closely, grading every move for our next lessons, I was sure.

Uncle El said he didn't care about the editing. He'd be happy to watch the star in the final version, though.

He seemed like a nice quiet old fart as he sat down on the couch with his brandy. He patted the seat beside him, telling me to sit. Thinking about my role tonight, and hoping I was getting high marks for playing hostess tonight; I was snuggled into El like he was desert for the night. Giggling at his lame jokes and lightly stroking his skinny chest with one hand, The other was inching its way up his thigh. His bulge twitched when I scratched his jeans with my red fingernail. And I leaned closer so he could kiss me if he wanted to. He did. Our lips met, and he started pawing at my chest.

My clit was bulging in chastity as I looked into him and begged.

"Please Sir. May I give you pleasure with my mouth?"

He grunted and just pushed my head down. I fumbled his jeans open, an a coiled up excited black penis came out. I gasped. After it unfolded, it kept growing in length. It was very thin, maybe an inch in diameter, but it was already very long, with a bulbous head bobbling at the end of it. It looked like 2 feet of broomstick with a golf ball on the end.

I pulled his pants and shoes off, spreading his legs so I could get it in my mouth. I loved this. This immersion course in femininity was great. All the years I dabbled with wearing bras and lace while fantasizing about this, yet denying my inner slut and true calling were over.

I wanted this. My wife running off with a black stud really didn't bother me anymore, either. She was getting what she wanted. And I finally was, too.

I'd suddenly realized that although my wife, Lance, and all the others had forced me into the depraved acts of the past week, I'd enjoyed most of it. Deep down in my stifled subconscious, I liked being used as a whore.

I bent over uncle El and took his huge knob of a cockhead into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and feeling the shaft get even harder in my hands. I'd never seen a cock so long and thin and hoped he'd want to fuck me with it. I imagined it probing deeply inside me without the discomfort a thicker weapon brings.

By the time El was bucking his hips up trying to fuck my throat I was begging him with my eyes to feed me his creamy goo. He grabbed my ears and thrust it down my throat as it pulsed in my hands. I couldn't taste much of his sperm, but his groans and the length of time his rod pulsed told me he was filling my belly. I pulled off of him desperate for air and took the last few spurts on my chin with a big smile. He collapsed back onto the couch with a breathless grin and Tammy flashed a few pictures of us.

Continued...