Don't Feed the Trolls - Ch. 05 (8.5k words)

Author's note: This gets real horny at the end, if you somehow weren't expecting that. Hope you enjoy!

_________________________________

[ElevatedWit]

My girlfriend gets home this afternoon, troll. 

You're going to feel really stupid. 

[Footballfan43]

whatever u say, ellie

*****

“Almost ready!” Varun called from the kitchen.

Whit shook his head ruefully. Varun insisted on making himself coffee before they started watching – an unbearably millennial demand – but Whit was feeling too good to be annoyed by it. 

It was still dark outside, so early in the morning that the sluggish autumn sun hadn't risen yet. Whit couldn't remember the last time he woke up before sunrise. Stayed up gaming until the sunrise, sure. But this was new. Or at least it was a throwback to high school. Whit grinned to himself. Honestly, something about getting up early to watch anime before work almost felt naughty. Varun's douchebag hockey friends would definitely give him crap if they knew. But it was their little secret. 

Varun hurried into the room, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands and an eager look on his face. Whit laughed. He was still such a nerd, no matter how much college had changed him. 

“Let's fucking do this,” Varun said, “Free me from this torment.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Whit mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should start over from season one, to make sure you really have all the context.”

“Bug, you little fucker…”

“Okay, okay,” Whit chuckled, “If you insist.”

Truth be told, he was a little excited himself. As much as he loved Demon King's Sunrise, he hadn't actually watched it since he was a kid. It had been one of the random dubbed animes they played on TV when he was a kid, and it was the whole reason he liked anime in the first place. When he met Varun in high school, he had insisted that they watch it together. But that was a long time ago. Whit remembered more of the plot than Varun did, clearly, but even he was a little vague on the specifics. 

Whit hit play on the episode, and wiggled excitedly in his seat as the title sequence played. The episode began with Johnny Basketball receiving an invitation to a masquerade ball.

Whit's heart stopped.

No fucking way. That wasn't this episode, was it?

“Oh yeah!” Varun said, “The demon king's new host gets revealed at the masquerade ball, right?”

Fuck. Fuck. Yes, that was right.

“Uh-huh,” Whit said numbly. 

“Yeah, cause he takes off his mask to reveal his face, and it's…” Varun screwed up his face in deep focus, then sighed, “Oh, fuck it, I'll just watch the show.”

Whit laughed weakly. Yes. Yes, they would just watch the show. Varun wouldn't notice anything weird going on. 

Whit tried his best to hide his nerves, to act completely normal, to laugh along with Varun’s little quips and failed attempts to guess at the reveal. But then they got to that one scene. 

The mysterious masked villain attacked the masquerade ball, snatching up Sally Softball and whisking her away. Only it was so much more than that. The villain used the demon king's powers to summon enchanted ropes, which snaked around Sally’s body, binding her hands behind her back, wrapping tightly around her chest, her throat, and even gagging her, so that all she could do was let out muffled moans of fright and kick her legs helplessly. It was a classic damsel in distress scene, the innocent girl in her pretty dress being carried away by the nasty villain. Except for the fact that, thanks to typical stupid shounen anime shenanigans, it wasn't actually Sally Softball being carried away. It was Johnny in a crossdressed disguise. 

“Oh wow, the animation got really smooth for that sequence,” said Varun, “Ha, I wonder if someone in production had a bondage thing.”

Whit laughed, too loud, too forced, desperately trying to seem normal. God, that fucking scene. It had haunted him for years. Just because of how weird it was. Just because of how inappropriately sexy it was for a kids' show. Just because it was just a fucking cartoon, so Johnny dressed as a girl was completely indistinguishable from any actual female character, so if anyone watching happened to find the scene kind of hot, that didn't mean they were gay or anything, and it definitely didn't mean they were into crossdressing, even if they were technically wearing panties right now. 

“Oh shit, this is it!” Varun said excitedly, and Whit shoved all the weird icky confusing feelings back down where they belonged and sat up. Varun's eyes were fixed on the screen, his face stone serious with anticipation. On the screen, the villain strode forth, pulling off his mask to reveal…

Some random guy. 

“What the fuck?” Varun yelled, “Who's that supposed to be?”

Whit burst into laughter. Varun turned to him with an expression of pure anguish on his poor little face, and that only made Whit laugh harder. 

“What the fuck is this, Bug?” he whined, “Who’s this guy?”

“That's the demon king, Varun!” Whit giggled, “That's the twist! It was a complete unknown!”

“They hyped it up for the whole season!” Varun protested, “You hyped it up for the whole season!”

“Yep!” Whit laughed, “Hope you enjoyed the payoff!”

“No wonder I didn't fucking remember this guy,” Varun groaned, “You knew it was gonna be a fucking anticlimax the whole time and you let me get invested?”

“When you think about it, it's quite a clever subversion,” Whit said smugly, “There's no reason that the most suitable host for the demon king would have to be someone Johnny was familiar with, is there? Statistically speaking, it’s more realistic that it's a stranger.”

“So you don't think it would be more interesting if it was someone we actually knew about?” Varun said, exasperated, “You actually like that reveal?”

“Oh, I loved it,” Whit lied shamelessly, completely failing to keep a straight face. He could still remember how furious he had been the first time he watched this episode, “I just wanted to share it with you, so I could see your reaction to such a satisfying moment. Which was priceless, for the record.”

Varun shook his head in disbelief, “You are such a fucking troll.”

“Who, me?” Whit giggled, “Surely not.”

The episode wrapped up pretty quickly. Johnny begged the demon king to leave his new host and reform their bond, and infuriatingly, it immediately did, making the entire season-long arc completely pointless. Whit stretched languidly as the credits rolled, then got to his feet. 

“Well, that was fun,” he smirked, “But I think we better get ready for work.”

“You are not walking away that casually,” Varun scowled, jumping up to block his path, “Not after what you just put me through.”

Whit laughed, “You want an apology?”

Varun grinned, “I fucking demand it. That was a war crime.” 

“Too bad,” Whit smirked, and went to step around Varun. Varun scoffed and stepped in front of him again. Whit darted back to the side and Varun blocked him again, playfully spreading his arms to make a wall. Whit giggled as he jumped up onto the couch, “Fucking fat ass blocking my path.”

“Little fucker,” Varun laughed. Whit shifted his weight on the couch, bouncing on his tiptoes like a little kid. He could see the bathroom door behind Varun. Ha, that would be the perfect finish, getting the first shower too. All he had to do was make a feint, dodge to the side and shove Varun onto the couch when he was off balance. Perfect. He cackled wickedly and sprung into action, feinting, dodging, and shoving Varun hard with both hands. 

Oop. 

It turned out Varun, now so much larger and heavier than he was in high school, was not so easy to shove. As Whit’s hands pressed against Varun's firm chest, the bigger man didn't budge an inch, just stared down at him, with an expression of amused surprise. Whit felt a rush of heat to his cheeks. Shit, he didn't realise Varun was so strong now…

“Nice try, Bug,” Varun smirked, then he grabbed Whit's wrists and pulled his hands up above his head. Whit laughed breathlessly and tried to tug his wrists free, but it was no use. All he could do was wriggle in place.

“Stop!” he giggled, “Let me go!”

“So you can steal the shower?” Varun said, “Nah, I'm not letting you go until you admit that ending sucked.”

Whit laughed, squirming again to try and slip out. Varun’s hands were warm and firm, wrapped tight around Whit’s skinny little wrists. God, he was so strong, so powerful, and Whit was as trapped and helpless as Johnny in that fancy dress, all tied up in ropes.

Whit ignored the burning heat in his cheeks and stubbornly argued, “Not every story has to follow a traditional narrative arc.” 

Varun yanked Whit’s wrists up higher, and Whit let out a little squeak as he was pulled onto his tiptoes. Oh shit, he could feel the cool morning air against his tummy as his shirt rode up. Hopefully his panties weren't showing. 

“You really have no remorse, huh?” Varun said, “Maybe you need to learn a lesson...”

Whit felt a hot thrill run through him, like goosebumps rippling across his whole body, from his blushing face all the way down to his rock-hard dick. 

Oh fuck! What the fuck?

“Fucking let go of me, Varun!” Whit yelled, all traces of levity completely gone from his voice. He twisted his body desperately, trying to tear himself free before Varun could spot the shameful bulge at his crotch. “Stop being a fucking asshole! Let go!”

Varun’s eyes went wide, shocked, and he let go immediately, “Shit, sorry Bug, did I–”

“Just fuck off!” Whit shrieked, his voice cracking stupidly, “Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Whit–” Varun began, but Whit was already rushing past him, running for his room, and this time Varun didn't stop him. He slammed the door behind him and flung himself into his bed, wrapping himself in his sheets as his heart raced. What the fuck? What the fuck!

He wasn't fucking gay. He wasn't gay! He wasn't a fucking sissy, he definitely wasn't attracted to fucking Varun! So why the fuck did that fucking happen? He hunched himself into a ball under the covers, clenching his fists, curling his toes, willing all the bloodflow away from his treacherous cock. It was just a random erection, that was all. Like back in high school. It didn't mean anything. He just hadn't jacked off in a while, because of all the bullshit with the troll getting in his head. He was just pent up, and his cock got hard at a random time, and it happened to be while Varun was being fucking stupid. That was all. He wasn't gay. 

Whit stayed there, eyes shut tight, cheeks wet and burning, until he heard Varun leave. 

*****

The fucked thing about being an adult was that no matter what else was going on in your life, you still had to go to work. When Whit dragged himself into the Telus store, Sophie was deep in conversation with some old guy in a suit. She perked up when she saw Whit enter and hurried over to him.

“Hey Whitaker!” she beamed, “Ready to seize the day?”

“Whatever,” Whit muttered. He just had to get through his shift, keep his head down and lurk in the corners of the store until he could get home. And then, fuck, who knew what he would do next. Blow his brains out maybe. 

Sophie faltered, “is… is everything okay?”

Whit bit his lip, willing himself not to tear up. No, everything was not fucking okay. The weird moment with Varun had really rattled him, and suddenly his genius plan to take down the troll seemed fucking insane. He had taken a second look at the photos of last night's makeup attempt, and realised it looked humiliatingly bad. No way the troll would ever believe an actual woman was responsible for it. And then his package had finally been delivered, and Whit couldn't even bring himself to open it. He had barely been able to summon the effort to send the troll a picture of his ass in the soft yellow panties he was now wearing under his khakis. 

“Oh, Whitaker,” Sophie said softly, “Is it about… Um…” 

She gestured vaguely to her face – her perfectly made-up face, with its soft highlights and delicate contour and subtle but intricate eyeliner. Fuck, god damn it, Whit was tearing up. 

“It's just this fucking… This fucking bet,” he hissed, his voice infuriatingly weak and shrill, “I just need to fucking do it and get it over with and I can't get it right and I'm gonna look like a fucking–”

“Hey, hey!” Sophie whispered, grabbing Whit’s shoulders with surprising roughness. Whit squeaked, then shut his mouth, blushing furiously. Sophie glanced furtively over her shoulder, where the old guy she had been talking to was inspecting a display of phone cases. She sighed, then looked back to Whit, her face both empathetic and firm. 

“It just takes practice, okay?” she said.

“I don't have time to practice!”

“Right, sure, the bet,” Sophie sighed, then her eyes flashed with resolve, “How about you let me do it? After we close, I'll come over and do your makeup for you.”

Whit felt a glimmer of hope, “Really?”

“Of course,” Sophie smiled, “We gotta look out for each other, right? We’re a team.”

Oh god, she really was smitten. Whit felt a warmth in his chest, like his strength was coming back to him. Clearly he wasn't that much of a sissy, if this objectively hot girl was into him. So into him she was willing to sacrifice her Friday evening to come over and help him win some stupid made-up bet. 

“Sure,” said Whit, straightening up a bit, “I would be amenable to that.”

Sophie grinned and patted him on the shoulder, “There we go, Whit. You're gonna look so pretty, I promise. And I can give you some tips in case you ever, you know, need to wear makeup again.”

Whit snorted. Man, she really was thick. 

“I can't imagine when that would ever be necessary,” he said. 

“Sure, buddy,” said Sophie, “Hey, it looks like that lady could use someone smart to help her out. Could you go give her a hand?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Whit sighed, but he forced a customer service smile onto his face as he ambled over to greet her. 

Whit felt his confidence coming back to him as the shift continued. He really was good at his job, even if sometimes the customers weren't quite intelligent enough to understand his advice. And he was getting really efficient too. He took care of three or four customers and Sophie was still chatting to that guy in the suit. Man, if the world was a meritocracy, he would have taken her job months ago. 

He couldn't feel too much resentment though, since she had agreed to help him out with the makeup thing. 

A few hours later, Whit’s shift was over, and he waited impatiently as Sophie locked up the store. She was in an even more irritatingly perky mood than usual, singing some braindead pop song to herself as she skipped over to join him. 

“Today was a really great day, Whitaker,” she beamed, “Really great.”

Whit snorted. As far as he could tell, Sophie spent most of her time talking to that one customer, who didn't even end up buying anything. It was Whit and his dumbass coworkers doing all the work.

“I guess,” he said.

“Seriously Whitaker, you've been doing so great this week,” Sophie clapped her hands decisively, “Now! Let's get you made up.”

It was weird taking a girl back to his place. Whit's old roommate had brought girls home occasionally, but Whit always just hid in his room so he wouldn't have to talk to them, or see them being gross and intimate together. He felt a weird apprehension in his stomach as he lead Sophie to his bedroom. Since Sophie had a crush on him, and he was bringing her back to his place, would she expect… romance? If so, she would be sorely disappointed. Whit had way too much other stuff to worry about right now.

Still, having his makeup done was undeniably intimate. Whit did his best not to squirm at all, but the combination of Sophie's intense gaze and her delicate hands brushing various goops onto his face was pretty overwhelming. 

At least he didn't get hard this time. 

“You have good bone structure,” Sophie murmured as she blended foundation onto his cheeks, “You're gonna look so pretty when we’re done.”

Whit’s stomach roiled at that.

“Can we not talk about my face?* he said.

Sophie shrugged, “Okay. What's that package on your desk?”

“Nothing!” said Whit.

Sophie chatted mindlessly as she worked, and Whit grunted vague noises of approval while pretty much disassociating. This was an incredibly weird experience, but at least it marked the end of this whole dumb saga with the troll. Sophie was blathering away about her career aspirations, but Whit didn't hear a word of it, until finally she sat back with a smile and announced, “Done!”

“Thank god,” Whit sighed, “Alright, thank you. I’m gonna take a photo and wash this stuff off.”

“Aww, come on,” Sophie pouted, “Don't you wanna see the big reveal?”

Whit rolled his eyes, but it seemed like more work to argue, so instead he let Sophie lead him to the bathroom.

“Close your eyes!” she said. Whit obliged, and she eagerly positioned him in front of the mirror, “And… ta-da!”

Whit opened his eyes with weary resignation, already knowing the embarrassing sight he would see. The same awkward face, with dumb makeup plastered on, just a bit more professional this time. 

But that wasn't it. 

“What the fuck?” Whit breathed. 

Sophie had exceeded his expectations by a long fucking way. His face looked softer, warmer, his pasty skin highlighted with gentle blush, rosy lips and delicate eyeliner that made his eyes look almost beautiful. 

He stared at himself in stunned silence, his heart thumping hard in his chest. God, what? How did she do this? He had been prepared to look stupid. He had even been prepared to look like a sissy. He hadn't been prepared for… this.

Whit turned his head side to side, awestruck by how natural he looked. It wasn't that the makeup was unnoticeable. Far from it. It was obvious he was wearing makeup, it just, somehow, didn't look totally wrong on him. 

“What do you think?” Sophie was leaning against the sink, her usual obnoxious grin replaced by something softer, a gentle, encouraging smile. 

“It's fine,” Whit said stiffly, “Looks like makeup, alright.”

Sophie reached out and gently brushed a lock of Whit’s soft, shiny hair out of his eyes. Whit blushed and shrank back, but Sophie just smiled at him, “You look beautiful, Whitaker.”

Whit squirmed, “I don’t– I mean, sure, you… you did a good job, that’s– yeah.”

“I think your hockey friends are gonna love it,” Sophie teased, “It really suits you.”

She wrapped an arm around Whit’s waist and drew in close. Whit’s breath caught in his throat. Was she gonna try and kiss him? She was being so complimentary, so soft and smiley, so overwhelmingly supportive of this whole stupid makeup thing… was she seriously that into him? He could feel a crawling anxiety in the pit of his stomach. Is that how tonight was gonna end? Him having sex with Sophie? That would be great, obviously, she was very pretty, and it would be a surefire way to prove the troll wrong, but it was just… just a lot, all at once. He hadn’t been expecting to lose his virginity tonight, and…

“Hey, Whitaker,” Sophie murmured, her breath warm against his cheek. He shivered.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna… take a selfie?”

“Oh!” he said, strangely relieved, “Uh, yeah, okay.”

Sophie beamed and hugged him to her side as she pulled out her phone. The anxiety came back a bit when he saw their matching made-up faces on her phone screen, but he smiled weakly and let her snap a pic. 

“You’re not gonna post that anywhere, are you?” he said.

“Oh no, no way,” she assured him, “I just think it’s nice to have a little memento. Unless you think you’re gonna start wearing makeup more often?”

“No fucking way,” said Whit. 

Whit hustled Sophie out of the apartment as fast as he could. Her attention was flattering, but he had work to do. Anyway, it was time to get to work now. It was getting late, and Whit wasn't sure when Varun would get home from his stupid hockey game. He rushed back to his room, rumpled up the blankets on his bed so it would look like he had been having sex in there, and finally tore open his package.

BDSM, right? 

He had promised the troll that his girlfriend would do his makeup after they finished having kinky sex. The troll had been skeptical, of course, because he was stupid. But if Whit sent the photo and made sure to casually include evidence of their kinky activities in the background, there would be no denying it!

So he had bought some perfectly kinky items online, basing his purchases on Varun’s suggestion about BDSM, and his own expertise from watching porn. Nothing crazy (he didn't want the troll thinking his girlfriend was a total degenerate, after all), just some sexy lingerie, a gag, and, most erotically of all, a pair of handcuffs. Whit grinned as he laid it all out on his bed. Oh yeah, that definitely looked like he had sex. 

He wouldn't be able to fit his bed in frame if he used his laptop webcam, so he would need to take this picture on his phone. He opened the selfie cam, and was confronted again by his made-up face. 

God, it really was so… striking. There was no denying that Sophie (or, rather, Whit’s girlfriend) had done an excellent job. Hell, it was a shame not to show it off properly, just to really rub it in. Instead of taking a picture, Whit put on his mask and started recording a video. 

“What's up, you stupid fucking troll?” he grinned. Man, his lips looked so plump and pink with their layers of lipstick and gloss. He pouted a little, sarcastically flexing them, and felt a vicious little thrill. The troll would be kicking himself right now. 

“As you can see, my incredibly hot girlfriend just put makeup on me,” he smirked, “And just like I fucking told you all along, it looks nothing like that old selfie I sent you. So, huh, I guess it turns out I was right, and you were a fucking idiot.”

Whit held back a giggle. It wouldn't do to seem too smug, even though smugness undeniably looked good on him right now. He couldn't look away from his own eyes, which he had always thought were a dull muddy brown, but looked sparkling and warm when highlighted by dark eyeliner. Even surrounded by the black fabric of the domino mask, they looked bright and shiny. In retrospect, it really wasn't that gay to wear eyeliner. It was just black ink, after all. Like a tattoo, except without the stupidity of permanently marking your body. 

Whit flopped down onto the bed, making sure to oh-so-coincidentally let the BDSM gear fall into frame.

“I guess it's not surprising you were so confused,” he said airily, “Seeing as you're probably a pathetic virgin who has never even been on a single date Hmm, notice how I effortlessly proved that my girlfriend exists, but you've never done the same? I guess that's the difference between you and me. I'm a real man, and you're just a perverted gay loser!”

Whit flipped off the camera with a huge, shit-eating grin.

“So long, dipshit!”

*****

Upon review, Whit had maybe gotten a little carried away in the video. While his teasing rant had been one hundred percent factual, he didn’t want to give the impression that he actually cared about any of this stuff. Also, in his excitement, his voice had strayed a little into that embarrassing high-pitched range he hated so much. In the end, he decided to mute the audio. That was better for anonymity, too. With the mask and the makeup, he was practically unrecognisable, but it never hurt to be extra careful. Most people wouldn’t be smart enough to consider something like that. 

Whit sent the video to the troll, then packed up the BDSM stuff so he could return it for a refund. With that done, he paced around the room for a bit.

He would go clean off the makeup soon, obviously, but for whatever reason he didn't feel like it right now. He just had too much energy, still buzzing with the thrill of victory. Instead, he started up Michelle Champion’s Booty Bootcamp video.

He had skipped his daily workout that morning because he was in such a crap mood, and in retrospect he didn't really need to keep up with it now, since the troll was about to delete his account in disgrace. But it would be a good way to burn off all his nervous energy. Maybe he would even make it all the way through this time, a feat he hadn't managed to repeat since that first day. 

He was halfway through the workout, and already regretting it thanks to the pain in his legs and ass, when notifications from the porn site started to ping in. He hurried back to his laptop, eager to witness the troll freaking out.

[Footballfan43]

what is this sissy

I cant watch your porn video in public

[ElevatedWit]

Shut up, idiot, it's not porn. Obviously.

Although I'm sure you'd love to pay to see the things I was just doing with my girlfriend. 

Anyway, there’s no audio. 

[Footballfan43]

fine i will watch in the bus

since u are so impatient for show me

slutty little sissy

desperate for real mans approval

Whit scoffed. Nothing could be further from the truth. Still, he waited eagerly to see what the troll thought of his video. 

[Footballfan43]

huh

Whit held his breath.

[Footballfan43] 

she did good job sissy

“Fuck yes!” Whit punched the air, cackling with glee, “Fucking idiot!”

God, that felt fucking good! As crazy as it may seem, Whit had actually started to worry that maybe he had gotten a little in over his head with the troll. Like maybe, perhaps, he was letting his frustration lead him into doing something unwise. But it was all worth it for the sweet thrill of validation he got from proving his intellectual superiority.

[Footballfan43]

im surprise she stay with u with that tiny little shrimp u have

be careful letting her dress u up sissy she might dump u when she realises ur better suited to be a girl

Whit just laughed. The troll was really grasping at straws now.

[ElevatedWit]

Some of us have more to offer than just a fat lump of meat between our legs. 

I have no trouble keeping her satisfied, but then a virgin like you probably couldn't wrap his head around the sort of things we get up to. 

[Footballfan43]

ya ya you put her on handcuffs or whatever fucking mind blowing

[ElevatedWit]

Not just handcuffs. Check the video again. There's something else there that YOU could use. 

Whit giggled wickedly to himself. He could just imagine the troll watching the video again, blushing in shame when he saw the ball gag and realised how badly he had just been owned. He would probably go ahead and delete his whole account. 

Heh, who needed a gag when you could shut someone up forever just with the power of rhetoric?

[Footballfan43]

HAHAUAHAUAUHAUAHAUAYAYAUAUAUHAUAYA

Huh, the troll was being a surprisingly good sport.

[Footballfan43]

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Okay, it wasn't that funny. 

[Footballfan43]

PQP ELLIE YOU FUCKING STUPID SISSY KKKKKKKKKKKK

The troll sent a screenshot from the video. Whit, with his silky hair and pretty painted face, lying back luxuriously on his rumpled, post-sex sheets, with the ball gag right next to his head. 

With the price tag still visible. 

Whit's blood ran cold. He scrubbed back through the video in a panic, hoping his eyes had somehow been lying to him. He had specifically taken care to make sure that the tags were hidden! But he could already see his mistake. When he had flopped onto the bed, everything had moved around, revealing all the price tags on the self-evidently brand new fetish gear. 

[Footballfan43]

DID YOU SERIOUSLY BUY ALL THIS STUFF JUST TO PRETEND YOU HAVE SEX 

YOU FUCKING PATHETIC SISSY VIRGIN

[ElevatedWit]

No I didn't!

I just bought that stuff for her today to replace our old stuff because it got too dirty from having sex in it so much!

[Footballfan43]

you kept the tags on so u can return becuase u can't even IMAGINE to have sex 😂😂😂

[ElevatedWit]

NO!

The tags aren't even connected! They just happened to be lying on the bed in close proximity to the BDSM gear!

Whit tore open the package and frantically ripped off all the tags. Fuck, this was more money down the drain, but there was no other option. He tossed it all on his bed again, making sure the tags were clearly disconnected, then frantically sent a picture.

[ElevatedWit]

See? Only an idiot like you would get confused!

[Footballfan43]

oh ellie 😂 stupid little braindead sissy 

was this ur clever plan for show off how manly you are? 

planting false evidence 😂😂😂 ellie 171 

your empty little head is only good for sucking cock. don't try to have any clever thoughts

[ElevatedWit] 

I do have a girlfriend!

Alright, fine, we didn't actually have sex tonight. But it was just because…

Whit's fingers were typing faster than he could think, his mind still reeling at how stupid he had been. Why didn't he notice the fucking tags in the background of the video? He battled to stay focused. He could still win this. 

…because I was tired from my important job. She was desperate for sex obviously but I said no.

[Footballfan43]

pq u only like men 😂

[ElevatedWit]

NO! I DONT LIKE MEN!

I mean I said we could do that later!

[Footballfan43]

little lying ellie 

i can't believe u wanted to return for refund

broke ass sissy 😂

[ElevatedWit]

I'm not broke! I have a job!

[Footballfan43]

I don't think such a dumb sissy can keep a job 😂

unless u get on knees for manager

[ElevatedWit]

My manager is a woman you fucking idiot!

Whit's fingers pounded the keyboard, his jaw set in steely determination. This would get him!

[ElevatedWit]

And by the way, she has a fucking crush on me. She was practically drooling when she did my makeup!

Whit hammered the send button, then yelped “Fuck!” as he realised his mistake.

[Footballfan43]

YOU ADMIT YOU HAVE NO GF HAUAHUA

your boss did your makeup?! 😂😂😂

she forcefem u ellie!!

need more salesgirls for lingerie store??? 

[ElevatedWit]

NO!

[Footballfan43]

you buy new outfit with employee discount 😂😂😂

[ElevatedWit]

It's not for me, you fucking idiot!

It's for my girlfriend!

[Footballfan43]

nobody can believe she exist 😂

WAIT HUAHUA

you buy all your own panties too?! 

you are so pathetic ellie 😂

sick little tiny dick loser buying pretty panties to jack off in 🤢

do your parents know u are sissy?

[ElevatedWit]

IM NOT A FUCKING SISSY

I just

I didn't fucking 

Whit rocked back in his chair, clutching his head in his hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it was all unravelling now. He wasn't a sissy, he had a perfectly good reason behind everything he had done! His masculinity had been attacked! Any reasonable man would've done the same!

And yet all those reasons suddenly seemed so flimsy. He had bought panties, after all, and he had lied about having a girlfriend…

He seized on one point he knew he could defend. 

[ElevatedWit]

Alright, technically I don't have a girlfriend right now.

But the BDSM gear is not fucking for me. I only bought it to prove a point. Like you said, I was going to return it!

[Footballfan43]

bdsm gear 😂

such a sheltered sissy

u think black stockings is erotic?

of course it's for u sissy 🥱 lazy lie

[ElevatedWit]

It wouldn't even fit me!

[Footballfan43]

prove it

Whit groaned with frustration. God damn it, why did he keep fucking doing that?

But it was true! Okay, yes, when he placed his order he made sure the panties were the same size as the rest of them, just for consistency. But he had picked the sizing for the corset completely at random. Hell, it had fucking cups for boobs! Boobs which Whit OBVIOUSLY didn't have!

[ElevatedWit]

Fine. I'll fucking prove it. 

He flung himself back from his desk and ripped his clothes off, hurling the soft yellow panties with their little bow on the front into the corner of the room. He set to work, seething, fighting back his watery eyes, and dressed himself in the lacy black lingerie as quickly as possible. 

The panties brushed tantalisingly against his smooth, sensitive legs, the silk as soft as a whisper. He pulled them up tight, the straps at the waist settling around his wide, squishy hips, the thong back getting lost between his plush cheeks, tickling against his delicate little asshole. He whimpered softly at the sensation, but forged onwards. Determined. Gritted teeth. Manly. 

The thigh-high stockings were next, and he pulled them roughly up his legs, not caring if they got damaged. He gasped at the unexpected sensation. God, he could admit that the soft fabric of his panties sometimes felt nice, even though he hated them. But the feeling of the smooth, slippery stockings tightly caressing his legs, the lace tops tickling at the sensitive skin of his juicy inner thighs… it was almost overwhelming. But he didn't let it stop him.

Just the corset now. This is where he would prove just how deranged and deluded the troll was. 

He tugged the laces loose enough to pull it on over his head, struggling to get it into place. Good! Of course it was a struggle! It was made for a fucking woman, and Whit was a man! There was no way it would ever–

He finally popped his arms through the corset, and it slipped down his body, settling into place like it was made for him.

“Fuck!” Whit squealed, “Stupid fucking thing!”

The corset was tight, yes, but it undeniably fit him. Even the cups were small enough that they barely gaped out from his chubby little chest. Whit’s cheeks burned as he tugged and twisted at the corset, hissing under his breath as he felt his legs rub against each other in their silky stockings, and his trapped dick throbbed plaintively in his panties. 

Wait! The corset might fit him alright now, but the laces were completely loose! A corset was meant to be worn tight, to fit a woman's narrow waist. The only reason it fit Whit’s masculine body was because he hadn't tightened it at all! As soon as it was done properly, it would be obvious what a ridiculous fit it was. Whit eagerly scrabbled behind him for the ends of the laces, then yanked them as hard as he could.

“Hngh!! Oh fuck!”

It practically squeezed the life out of him, and Whit gasped breathlessly as little black dots swam before his eyes. But that was good! He pulled even tighter, and gasped again as the corset squeezed hard at his midsection. It was so firm, the structured fabric clutching hard, squeezing his body like he was being clutched by the powerful hand of some lustful giant. Whit panted and clambered onto the bed, collapsing onto his knees and chest, gasping into the pillow as he pulled even tighter, crushing himself, trapping his little body in the tight corset. With shaking hands, he tied off the laces, then staggered out of bed feeling lightheaded. 

He must look ridiculous. This was ridiculous. The troll was completely insane to suggest that a man like Whit would ever buy an outfit like this for himself. Whit opened his webcam and his jaw dropped.

If he thought that his hair and makeup had transformed his appearance, this was a hundred times worse. Whit had felt how the corset squished and displaced the flesh off his flabby body, but instead of the ridiculous lumpy bulges he expected, all it had done was narrow his waist, make his awful hips look even wider, and force his pecs up and together, making it look like he had cleavage. And then there were the lacy thong panties hiding his stiff little cock, and the stockings showing off a peek of his juicy thighs…

“Fuck,” Whit whispered. 

[Footballfan43]

smdh she is playing with herself again…

[ElevatedWit]

I’M NOT!

Fuck, there was no way out of this. He had to send the picture, or he was basically admitting the troll was right. Whit eyed himself in the webcam again. It didn't really look like he had tits, did it? No, on a closer look it was obvious that his pecs didn't actually fill out the cups. And at the bottom of the corset, the boning was basically cutting into him! It came down to just above his belly button, and you could see how the unnatural fit was jabbing into his soft tummy. Yes, Whit had just been unnerved by seeing himself dressed so strangely. He obviously looked like a regular guy, just wearing a dumb outfit. 

He fired off a picture, but his heart was already sinking. Sure enough, the troll was not convinced, no matter how much Whit tried to point out all the places where the lingerie didn't fit properly. The reveal that he had been lying about his girlfriend had been a devastating blow to his credibility. 

[Footballfan43]

it fits u as i suspect

[ElevatedWit]

It doesnt!!!

[Footballfan43]

little lying sissy 

it makes me wonder what else u lied about

do u even have dick at all? maybe that photo u sent was stolen…

Whit snarled at the message. 

[ElevatedWit]

If I was going to pass off a photo of someone else’s dick as my own, why the fuck would I pick one that small?!

Not that it's even small! It's a normal size!

if mine is small, so is yours!

[Footballfan43]

I think ur real clitt is even smaller 😂

[ElevatedWit]

IT’S NOT!

What do you want?! Do you need me to send you another fucking photo? You're obsessed!

[Footballfan43]

😂😂😂

you made me prove mine ellie 

remember? u made me write message so u could claim it for yourself 😂😂😂

greedy sissy

only fair for u to prove yours

Whit bit his lip. The logic checked out, but god, the idea was not appealing. 

[ElevatedWit]

I’m not wasting paper on some stupid message.

[Footballfan43]

then you can just write on your soft sissy belly

Whit growled but snatched up a marker and got to his feet. Fine. He would show the troll. 

What was that stupid message the troll had written when it was his turn? He scrolled back up through their chat history, cheeks burning as he slipped over photo after photo of his own plump ass and hips in ladies underwear, until finally he reached it. He gritted his teeth, trying as best as he could not to look at the troll’s long, thick cock. There was the infuriating, smug message, in the troll’s ugly handwriting. 

HI SISSY ELLIE

ENJOY MY COCK

FOOTBALLFAN43

It was enough to make Whit feel sick. The snide superiority of it, like it was a favour, the troll graciously offering his dick to a desperate cock-starved sissy… well, two could play at the game. 

Whit pressed the tip of the marker against his tummy, shivering at the feel of the slick, oily head against his soft skin. Then he began to write, biting his lip as he dragged it along his skin in smooth, quick movements, bringing up goosebumps, staining his pale body with thick, inky lines. 

Whit finished writing, then hesitated. Somehow, his message didn't feel quite as powerful as the troll’s. He rubbed at the letters for a moment, but it was too late. The ink was already setting, marking his skin with the obscene message. All his desperate rubbing accomplished was some slight smearing. 

Fine. It would have to do. 

He glanced up at the screen again, flushing as his eyes fell on the troll’s cock. It wasn't like he was obsessed or anything, it just took up so much of the fucking screen! He tore his eyes away from it and back to the message. Right, it needed to be personalised. Whit sneered. There was no way he was writing the troll’s actual username on his body, but he could make it crystal clear who the message was for nonetheless. 

He had run out of room on his belly, but there was plenty of space on his thighs, jiggly soft flesh spilling out between the hems of his panties and stockings. So he wrote there, bending over, huffing from the exertion and the relentless crush of his corset, covering his skin with nasty words, each one hopefully another sting to the troll’s ego. The marker squeaked against his sweaty skin, making the words messy, smeared, dirty. Whit made one last decisive stroke and straightened up, posing for the webcam to inspect his work. 

Perfect. There on his tummy was the message:

THIS COCK

IS ALL YOURS 

And on his thighs, a litany of insults. 

PATHETIC

STUPID

VIRGIN

LOSER

Whit pulled down his panties, letting them slip down his stocking-clad legs to the floor. He shivered in the cool evening air, and gently brushed a finger along his stiff little cock. It was hard again, for no reason, like it so often was these days. Fuck, he should have jerked off before this, it was only because he was pent up. But then it was for the best his cock was as big as possible, even though its size was still heartbreakingly unimpressive. The slim shaft poked almost straight up, the tiny pink head peeking out at the end. His smooth balls were pulled up tight, like his whole little package was eager to be seen. Nothing could be further from the truth.

But this was what it took to prove his manhood. 

He took another photo and sent it to the troll.

[ElevatedWit]

There, asshole. 

Happy now?

[Footballfan43]

😂😂😂

you give your cock to me??

[ElevatedWit]

WHAT?

[Footballfan43] 

it says right there sissy ellie

your cock is all mine

you even signed ur message

pathetic stupid virgin loser

its good u accept who u are ellie

even if you cannot accept ur little clit

but thats ok. if u cannot handle the responsibility, it make sense to give it to a real man

[ElevatedWit]

NO NO NO

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT

[Footballfan43]

😂😂😂

And then he went offline. 

Whit swore and stomped away from the computer, almost tripping over the panties around his ankles. He kicked them across the room, then flung his arms back to undo the stupid corset. The knot was tight, tighter than he realised, and it was impossible to see it from this angle to figure out how to pick it apart. He hissed and snarled as his hands scrabbled desperately at the knot. Fuck, fuck, fuck! His eyes were definitely tearing up the time, and he panted furiously, forcing himself not to cry, not to humiliate himself any more than he already had.

He flung himself into bed again, rolling around, arching his back, contorting in different angles to try and get a better grip on the knot, which kept slipping out of his sweaty fingers. But it was no use. He must have been thrashing and sweating and fighting back tears for half an hour before he finally gave up and slumped exhausted against his pillows. He just laid there, heavy breathing restricted by the corset, too angry and ashamed to do anything but fume. 

He felt hot and sweaty, his face still burning and the rest of his body not feeling much better. He needed a glass of water. He struggled out of bed and pulled on a thick hoodie and sweatpants. He couldn't be fucked to put on underpants, so he just went commando, only checking to make sure that the boning of his corset and the lace of the stockings weren’t visible through his clothes. His stocking feet poked out the bottom, but they looked enough like regular socks that there was no way Varun would notice if he ended up coming home. 

Which, it turned out, he did. Whit passed him in the hallway on the way to the kitchen. He had clearly just gotten back from his hockey practice, still wearing his coat and carrying a duffel bag. 

“Heyyyy Bug,” he called out, his voice a little slurred. Great, him and his hockey friends had gone drinking, too. Whit ignored him and stomped into the kitchen. Varun trailed after him like a curious puppy. 

“Hey man I had a great night,” he said, “How you been?”

Whit ignored him, letting the sound of the tap drown out his voice as he poured himself a glass of water. 

“Anyway, bet you're dying to know how training went,” Varun said. 

Whit turned back with a sneer, “Fuck off, there's nothing I…” 

His voice trailed off when he saw Varun’s face wearing a drunken, teasing smile. But then the smile faded to a look of shock.

Whit narrowed his eyes, “What?”

He surreptitiously ran a hand over his chest, making sure the lines of the stupid corset weren't showing. 

“Nothing!” Varun said quickly, “You uh. You look nice.”

“Okay,” Whit said suspiciously. 

“I'm gonna go to bed,” Varun gestured vaguely. Whit nodded and Varun hightailed it out of there. Weirdo. 

Whit sipped his drink, wondering idly what had got his roommate in such an odd mood. Maybe he got concussed while out on the ice. No matter how weird Whit was feeling, he could always count on normies to be weirder. 

He set down the glass, then frowned. There was a little pink mark on the rim, right where his lips had–

Oh, fuck! He was still wearing the fucking makeup!

He had been so worried about the fucking corset he had forgotten about the full face of fucking makeup Sophie had slathered him in. Fuck! No wonder Varun had been acting weird! 

Whit sprinted to Varun's room and rammed open the door. 

“Varun, it's not–”

He stopped dead when he saw the sight before him. Varun was halfway through changing for bed, and turned curiously when Whit opened the door. Whit’s breath caught in his throat. 

He knew Varun had grown since high school, but seeing him shirtless made it hit him all over again. Varun wasn't an athlete, but god, he sure wasn't a wimp either. His body was so broad, brawny, masculine, with a forest of dark hair that trailed from his chest down to his tummy, He was a little overweight, but whereas Whit’s fat made his body seem soft and flabby, Varun just looked even more solid, his sturdy body well fed and reliable. A man you could trust to get you through winter. 

But Whit couldn't focus on Varun’s upper body for long, because his friend wasn’t wearing pants, either. He had stripped down to his boxers, and there was no missing the way they clung so flatteringly to his powerful legs… or the long, thick bulge pressed tight against his thigh. 

Fuck, was everybody packing except him?

“Is that your roommate?” said a female voice with a grating Boston accent. Priya, on the phone. Whit snapped out of his daze, raising his eyes to Varun's and hoping desperately that he hadn't been caught. 

“Uh, yeah, one second,” said Varun, “Is everything okay, Whit?”

Whit’s mouth was too dry to summon words. What had he come here to talk about again? Suddenly it had been chased from his mind by the revelation of how insanely well-endowed his friend was. He licked his dry lips nervously and that reminded him. 

“This!” he gestured to his face, mind racing to pick his words carefully so that Priya wouldn't know what he was talking about, “it's not… I mean, I don't… It wasn't my idea…”

“Oh, dude, it's fine,” Varun said awkwardly, “I'm just… I got Priya on the line, do you mind if we talk about this tomorrow?”

“Uh-huh!” Whit squeaked, then flung himself out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

“What the fuck?* he heard Priya’s muffled voice say. He could still hear her through the crack in the door, “He's such a fucking creep. You seriously gotta move out, Varun.”

“He’s not a creep,” Varun protested, “He's just… you don't know him like I do.”

“He is so a creep,” said Priya, “You move in for like a month and he's already turning you into a perv too.”

“Priya, can we not…”

Varun kept talking, but Whit was already heading back to his room, his cheeks burning even worse than before. He slammed the door behind him and sank down to the floor. The worst part was, Priya was totally right. What was wrong with him? Staring at Varun's bulge? Humiliating himself with the troll? Getting hard from having his arms restrained?

And god damn it, he was fucking hard again right now. 

He was just pent up, that was all. He whimpered and stripped his clothes off, kneeling on the floor in just his tight corset and stockings, biting his pretty little pink lip. He hadn't been able to jerk off for a week, because every time it started, he would hear the troll in his head, taunting him, calling him a sissy, flooding his head with disgusting images. But it was too much now. He needed release, no matter how shameful it was. 

He reached a shaky hand down to his dick, helplessly stiff, and began to stroke. The troll was right, he was just a stupid little sissy. His tiny dick was too pathetic to ever please a woman. Priya would laugh at him if she saw it. Sophie would laugh too, her crush instantly disappearing as she witnessed what a worthless, unfuckable sissy he was. His dick was useless, it had always been useless, and now it belonged to the troll. 

He gasped and moved his hand faster on his slippery, desperate little dick. He was already shaking, his balls pulled up tight, quivering with anxious need. He had given his cock away, because he was too stupid to realise how his message looked. He opened his eyes and glanced down at his tummy, letting out a shaky moan of shame. The words were still there, pledging his cock to another man, a man who had bested him. And there were the other words too, on his soft sissy thighs, the insults the troll had turned back on him. Pathetic. Stupid. Loser. Virgin. That was him. That was him! He was a pathetic stupid loser virgin! He hadn't even been able to pretend he had a girlfriend! He had gotten all dressed up in pretty makeup like a whore and all he had gotten out of it was proof he was a brainless, simple-minded sissy. Try as he might, he couldn't beat the troll. 

And now suddenly his mind had returned to that anime scene, the one that had haunted him for years. The hero dressed up in a big floofy ballgown, like a princess, getting tied up and carried away like a helpless damsel. But now that damsel was Whit, squeezing his eyes tight, milking his little prick for all it was worth, biting back whimpers as his body shook with lust and need and pleasure. He was the helpless little sissy princess, with her wrists tied tight, unable to break free no matter how hard she struggled, and the troll was the demon king, and he was so strong, too strong, and Whit was so weak, and there was nothing she could do except struggle and beg for some big strong man to come and save her. 

A big strong man, with powerful muscles, and soulful brown eyes, and a big fat–

“Oh!” Whit gasped, his little dick pulsing hard, spraying his palm with hot, sticky liquid, “Oh fuck, oh my god, ah!”

His hips bucked helplessly at the air, pumping a week's worth of stored-up sissy cum into his hand. The only place it would ever go.