New Story!

KIND OF A DICK

By Wyrdey

Putting aside the usual boring questions of: How do you it? What do you use? What is Reality anyway?

I think I would describe my brand of Reality Improvement (my preferred term) as 'Playful'.

'Prank-ish', even.

Some foolish people might see that kind of Trickster-ism as preferable.

"PHEW!" They'll think, "At least he's not one of the really BAD ones!"

But really, it's all just another way of saying that I'm the worst type of Reality Warper to piss off:

One with a sense of humour.

Ask Conrad.

Look at him now, smug little ruler of his smug little kingdom.

You know the type - well-groomed overly self-confident office bully on the management track.

Hobbies: boasting about his salary on Reddit and talking about how much he can lift.

He's so tiresome.

He's there now, with his trademark smirk, posing naked beside his bed. His darkly beautiful ex-model girlfriend is sitting in her skimpiest negligee. She seems less hyped for the imminent sex than he does... What do you know? He's not exactly a generous lover.

We can work with this.

Conrad is not-so-subtly flexing his 'guns' when he first hears it.

It sounds almost like someone meaningfully clearing their throat.

But there's only he and Grace in the room, so...

It comes again "AHEM!"

He suddenly notices the odd feeling of his erect dick turning to point up at him.

Grace looks down, so does he.

"Conrad... I think it's time we had a bit of a talk," his penis says.

Conrad looks back up at Grace. She seems unphased.

He relaxes his posing and instead just stands there, looking between his girlfriend and the penis he was planning to imminently and intimately explore her with.

"W-What?" He eventually manages.

"I said - I think it's time we finally have a talk about a few things that greatly affect us all, Conrad" his penis repeated, its little slit moving like a mouth.

It had a very deep, rich voice. Like the narrator of an ad for a particular expensive and exotic coffee.

The obvious thought of ventriloquism popped in and out of Conrad's head. The thing was... He could FEEL it. Feel the way that its head was moving by its own volition to look upwards at him, FEEL every little movement of its pee-slit mouth.

...It felt... Pretty weird...

Stunned doesn't quite cover it. His mouth was already hanging open, but it now wobbled slightly almost as if he was about to say something.

He didn't get the opportunity.

Grace sighed and leaned back on the bed.

"I... I agree" she sighed.

His mouth fell open a bit wider.

"Grace, you really don't have to say anything to him if you...." His dick said, turning to look at her with an intensity that made Conrad feel an odd pang of jealousy.

"No... No," Grace continued, sighing again. "We talked about this"

A very long moment passed.

"You... You've TALKED about this...?" Conrad finally said.

His voice captured some of the stunned and bizarre sense of betrayal he suddenly felt at the thought of his girlfriend and his penis talking about him behind his back...

Wait, behind his back...?

...Is... Is that even possible?

"I mean, of course we've talked, Conrad" his dick continued, its supernaturally deep, smooth voice now containing elements of exasperation. "It was inevitable - you always giving three thrusts, getting your pleasure, and then instantly falling asleep... We've spent a lot of time together"

Conrad looked back up at Grace. She was nodding.

"...You... You and..." He clearly could barely bring himself to say it "You and... My penis... You've...."

He was cut off.

"My name is Richard, Conrad" his penis interjected testily. "...Not that you've ever bothered to ask... But now that you know my name, I'd appreciate you using it... Don't you think you owe me that simple courtesy, Conrad?"

Grace sighed again. "Richard, he's... He's just..."

"No, Grace - this is part of that pattern we've been talking about. His pattern of discourtesy"

Conrad looked between his penis and his girlfriend and back once again.

While 'gobsmacked' was definitely paramount in his moods, a slight sense of defensiveness was now starting to edge its way in alongside his equally slight and inexplicable sense of jealousy.

"My..."

"Conrad, I'm going to be blunt." Richard interjected. "You're a TERRIBLE Dick-Owner... Just TERRIBLE. You've never treated me with the respect that I deserve... Just drunkenly and randomly plowing away at college party girls with HIGHLY dubious genital hygiene, then move on to occasionally thrusting once or twice a week at your long-term partners, but mostly just squeezing and chafing me as if I was some inexpensive sex toy."

Grace nodded with a certain sad agreement.

"... And your sense of propriety! You've manhandled me in the MOST inappropriate settings! In the bathroom at work? Just before dinner with your partner's parents? ...And your choice of pornography! I MUST say...!"

Grace tutted sympathetically. "Oh, Richard! I'm so sorry that you've had to go through that!"

"It's fine, Grace... It's... It's fine" Richard replied, a distinct tone of long-suffering disgust and deep trauma in his voice.

"... And when it was just that, I could deal with it... What am I, after all? Just a penis in a man's world!" He continued, very much on a roll now. "But when Grace started to enter into things... Well... That's where I had to draw the line!"

Grace smiled down at him, and gently reached out to brush his left testicle with her finger in a way that Conrad probably would have found highly erotic moments earlier.

"You force me to be so SELFISH with her Conrad! You use ME to treat her like one of the drunken sorority bimbos you used to bang in college! How can you DO that, Conrad? Not appreciate a woman as impressive as..."

"Oh, Richard!", Grace was on her knees now, love in her eyes as she gazed deep into Conrad's gesticulating cock.

Conrad would have probably shot his load just imagining such a moment an hour earlier.

Instead he just gaped down, an odd sense of familiar dread building deep in his stomach.

"G-Grace..." He began. "Grace... Are you leaving me for my... For my Richard?" He eventually squeaked.

Grace was back on her feet now. "Oh... Oh, hunny!" She said regretfully. "I really don't want to... I want us to all find a way to be happy together!" She said, her hands in his hair, regretful tears in her eyes. "I know it must be so hard for you too! Having such an amazing penis and having absolutely NO idea how to use it! You must feel like a child! Like a lost little girl!"

Conrad looked like he wanted to say something to that, but Grace swept on.

"I understand! That must be the source of all your bluster! All your little cruelties and thoughtless moments! You just feel SO inadequate about your complete COMPLETE lack of that basic male awareness! No WONDER you've never made me cum!"

Conrad started. "I've never..."

"You've NEVER made me cum, sweetie! NOT EVEN CLOSE! Richard tells me that you've been unable to give even a second of pleasure to ANY woman! EVER!"

Conrad felt Richard nodding. "The only time you've ever even seen a female experiencing pleasure was with Kelsey... And that's because that absolute hussy was on poppers and diddling herself as you were stupidly trying to do your thing! ... Seriously, I cannot BELIEVE you made me... ENTER... A girl like her... Do you have any idea what it was like in... But we'll say nothing else about it"

Grace nodded. "Even trashy bimbo sluts know there's something wrong! It's like you don't have a dick AT ALL! Let alone one as incredible as Richard!"

Richard joined in. "I... I know your relationship with your father was very... There's no shame that you never learned..."

"YOU stay out of this" Conrad shouted down at his penis.

He turned back to look at Grace.

"So... What... What do you..."

Grace ran her hands through his hair again.

"Oh, honey - we just want to teach you how to use a penis properly!"

Conrad's mouth flapped.

"...But... But..."

Richard cut in again. "Conrad, you should thank Grace - she's a FAR better woman than you deserve! I was convinced that it was hopeless, but she's convinced me that perhaps only a trial separation might be necessary..."

Grace was sitting back on the bed now.

She sighed again.

"I... I know it's hard, Conrad - but this is what's best for you, REALLY it is!"

Some aspect of the sheer ridiculousness of his situation was starting to break through Conrad's shock.

He almost managed one of his trademark smirks as he considered it.

"...A trial separation... With my penis? And my girlfriend? What? Will you fuck each other and I won't be invited? You'll tell me to close my eyes and pretend that nothing is happening as you..."

Richard tutted.

Then he hopped down from Conrad's crotch.

Conrad gaped in utter horror and slapped a hand between his legs.

A tiny little squeaky shriek briefly burst through his lips.

Richard padded towards Grace on the bed, his little testicles confidently taking step after step.

"Grace is right, Conrad..." He said, with perhaps just an iota less sympathy in his voice. "This will be good for you"

He hopped up onto the bed beside Grace with surprising dexterity.

Conrad was still gibbering silently as he squeezed at his suddenly much simpler crotch.

"Gaaaaah!...." He managed. "Mgwaaaaah!" He continued, before finally trailing off into another little girly shriek.

"Oh! OH! RICHARD!" He heard Grace gasp.

He looked up from where he was bent over, legs spread, hands slapped between them.

He was at the right angle. His old dick was pointed pretty much perfectly at his shocked, pale face.

It somehow seemed perfectly at home down there, between Grace's sleek, perfect thighs.

"OH! OH OHHH!" Grace continued to gasp. She reached down to caress her new addition, but... "Richard, RICHARD! May I? Do you?"

"Yes, Grace" Richard's tender voice echoed back. "Of course you may"

Grace moaned deeper as she took herself fully in hand for the first time.

"Oh! OH! It's! You're! Richard, you're so... I feel... I feel so..."

Richard snuggled into her hand.

"Yes, Grace - having a giant dick will often make you feel that way... Powerful, fearless... Horny, even..."

Grace's answering moans, and a few experimental - powerful - pelvic thrusts confirmed that she already knew this.

Conrad swallowed.

He'd... Obviously he'd never seen his dick from this angle.

He knew it so well - every little crevice, every little wrinkle - but he'd never seen it like this before - so powerfully outthrust into the air in front of him.

So hard, so powerful.

So erect.

...if he leant over even slightly, he'd have it in his mouth...

He jerked back at the thought.

...But... But didn't it seem maybe a bit... A bit....

"Oh gosh, Richard!" Grace called. "Is it just the angle.... Or are you... Are you?"

"It's not just the angle, Grace" Richard answered. "Yes. I'm BIGGER... And I can get BIGGER still..."

Conrad felt the blood drain from his face as his former dick... Well, it was like it was becoming fully erect, only MORE SO....

It wasn't just getting longer - though it certainly was, it was becoming girthier... Heavier... Meatier...

He swallowed.

"OH OOHHH OOOOOOOHHHH! RICHARD!" Grace gasped, leaning hard back, her delicate little hand pumping away on something that it now couldn't even close fully around. "How... How can you...?"

"Oh, of COURSE I can get larger, Grace" Richard replied, his voice now deeper and richer than ever, "It's just NO ONE ever ASKED me... But now that I'm finally with someone who KNOWS how to have a dick...."

Grace moaned.

Conrad felt an odd tingle.

His finger moved and...

He gaped.

The smirk was obvious in Richard's voice.

"Yes... Tight, aren't you?"

Conrad's hand moved again, his look of shock somehow growing.

"Do... Do I...?" He gasped.

Grace finally seemed to become aware of her surroundings again, although her hand still unconsciously pumped away.

"Well, of COURSE, sweetie!" She beamed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You have just the tiniest, tightest, CUTEST little pink pussy ever!"

Conrad made a little squeak.

"Oh!... Oh look, Richard! He's SUCH a tight little virgin he can barely even fit a finger between his darling little lips!"

He squeaked again.

"I'm... I've... I'm... I'm a VIRGIN?" He eventually managed to gasp out.

"Oh, Conrad, sweetie - of COURSE you are! You've never been PENETRATED!... You've never even brought pleasure to a partner!.... Why, you must be the virginiest virgin ever! No WONDER you have such a precious little girly pussy!"

A horrifying - somehow even more horrifying - thought crossed Conrad's face.

"...Aaaaand... Aaaaaaaaaaand you.... You two... You want... You want to..."

He looked down at Richard again, real fear on his face.

Richard. So... BIG.

"We just want what's best for you, Conrad" Richard replied. "Obviously, you need to learn how a dick SHOULD be used."

"...You... You want to... To..."

"We want to pop your cherry, darling" Grace cut in, matter of factly.

Conrad's mouth flapped silently.

"...B-But..." He eventually managed.

"Yes?" Richard asked, an edge in his voice.

"B...B...B-But!..."

"Sweetie, you need to get over this stammering and just say..."

"IT WON'T FIT!" Conrad eventually wailed.

Grace and Richard had a good, companionable laugh.

"Oh, sweetheart!" Grace eventually said, affectionately. "That's what ALL little Virgin Girls think their first time! Your special little pussy is SO much more STRETCHY than you think!"

Conrad was shaking his head now. "I... I don't want..."

Richard had clearly had enough.

"TYPICAL!" He roared. "Typical selfishness! Grace and I are trying to help you, and you can't even be gracious for a moment!

You have the pussy of a teenage girl, but I don't think you're even mature enough for that!

... This kind of behaviour is why you're going to end up alone and dickless!"

Grace jumped in, her voice thick with a kind of encouraging sympathy. Like she was trying to convince a puppy to climb into its bed.

"Conrad, dear - I KNOW this can be overwhelming!

*I* remember MY first time too! How uncertain and intimidated I felt... And I CERTAINLY wasn't confronted by anything as intimidating as Richard...

But you need to be a Big Girl now and lie back on the bed, okay sweetie?

It's important... Not just for YOU - for US!"

Richard nodded his agreement.

Conrad visibly winced with every heavy bounce of his fat, swollen head.

...But something else was in his mind now: a vision of what Richard had threatened.

Him.

Alone.

Dickless.

He made a little mewling sound as Grace manoeuvred him into the position on the bed that she'd been in only a few minutes earlier.

"...Aaaaand... If... If I do this... Then I can .. I can..." He swallowed. "... Get my dick... Um... Get my Richard... Back?"

"Yes, dear - yes" Grace agreed soothingly. "I mean... Probably not immediately - you still have a lot to learn - and maybe we could work out some kind of arrangement... But..."

She saw the look on his face.

"... Of course, darling - of course you can try having a penis again"

Conrad reluctantly looked up at her from the bed as she moved to climb on top of him.

"...Aaaaaaand.... And..." He couldn't say it.

Grace and Richard paused, crouching over him as he lay back on the mattress.

They waited for him to finish.

He blushed.

"You'll be gentle?" He finally managed to whisper quietly.

Richard answered. "Of COURSE I will, Conrad" he said in his deep, rich voice. "Everyone's first time should be special"

Conrad made a scared little sound, his eyes still locked on where Richard hovered above him.

So familiar... But not from this angle.

So SO big, suddenly. So veiny. SO...

"Lie back, sweetie" Grace commanded. "I'm about to make you into a lady"

Conrad's mouth was open to protest when she gave her first, experimental thrust.

It stayed open.

"Hmmmm..." Richard noted. "He's very juicy, but he is certainly very, very tight... Conrad, grab your ankles. It might make this easier..."

"Grab your ankles, dear" Grace said, her hips flexing back as elegantly as years of yoga had thought her.

Conrad considered protesting, but then just reached for his legs, pulling them up... ANGLING himself... Making himself more perfectly positioned for...

The first thrust brought tears to his eyes.

"Shhhhh... It's okay..." Grace soothed.

The second thrust made him cry out.

"Oh! My little guy's FINALLY becoming a woman!" Grace smiled.

The third thrust...

He squealed as he felt his hymen break.

Oh! OH! OOOH! OH! GOD! OH GOD!

He was still so tight... He could feel her... Feel RICHARD... INSIDE... INSIDE HIM... INSIDE HIS...

He moaned.

He was being stretched! He was being FILLED!

It... It HURT! But... But it felt... It felt so.... Soooooooooo....

He moaned again, louder.

Grace smirked.

"Ooo... Looks like someone's a little slut after all..."

She had dropped all delicacy and was just JACKHAMMERING now.

"Gah... Gooh... Goooooo!" Conrad peeped

He moaned again, and he really did sound like a porn star.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" Grace's face grunted down at him. "You LOVE that, don't you? You little whore... You cockteasing little..."

Conrad felt something building within himself. He literally didn't know what it could be.

He was already cumming harder than he'd ever cum in his life. His whole world seemed to have shrunk down to his pussy, his pink little newly un-virgin pussy - OH! OHHH! It! It was so FULL! Every INCH deeper, an exponential increase in the ecstasy! Pain! Pleasure! Dancing, burning together at last! He... He'd never...

"DON'T STOP, GRACE!" He squealed, wildly. "DDDDDDDDDON'T STTTTTTTOP!"

Grace smiled. "Don't stop WHAT, sweetie?"

"DDDDDDDDDON'T STOP FUCKING MEEEEEEEEE!" Conrad shrieked girlishly, far beyond shame, beyond playing games. He lay back awkwardly, still grabbing his ankles, looking as overwhelmed and unsure as any virgin on her wedding night, lost in his new world of pleasure.

"DON'T STOP! FUCK ME!  FFFFFFFFUUCK MEEEEEEEEEEEE! FILL ME UP! FILL MEEEEE UUUUUUUUUUUP!"

Grace laughed, and he felt an odd additional tickle that he vaguely believed to be Richard chuckling too.

"C-c--C-c-CUUUUuuuuUMmmmm in MEEEEE! CUM! IN! MEEEEEEEE!"

His squeaking squeals could have broken glass.... Oh! And it was still building! That deep strange feeling within him!

It grew and grew and grew and GREW and GREW AND GREW AND GREW... Far beyond what he would have believed possible... Beyond what was pleasurable into the realm of utter pain... And then back again... And again... And again....

And still it grew...

It burst.

"OOOooooooooooooOOoooooooooOoooooooooo FffFuuuuuuuuuu..." He actually, full-lunged screamed, his eyes completely rolled back, his body flopping and spasming as he came just like an embarrassingly overacting porn starlet...

Then everything went black.

"Grace, I must say you were..."

"Oh no, Richard! It was all YOU! You were so..."

"You mustn't sell yourself short! I've never even imagined that such... Such INSTINCTIVE control could be..."

"Oh, Richard! You just make everything so..."

Conrad's throat scratched like sandpaper.

He tried to moan again as he bubbled back up towards the voices, back into the fringes of consciousness...

"Grace, it is truly an honour... An HONOUR, I must say..."

"Richard, you are just so... SO... I feel so POWERFUL! Just having you with me is... Is this how MEN feel? Normally? Looking down at sexy little things like... OH! Speak of the devil..."

Conrad's eyes fluttered. They tried to focus, unsuccessfully.

Honestly, the first thing that he really noticed was the SMELL. That familiar muskiness of spilt cum... It hit different, somehow, like this.

Perhaps because it was so subtly mixed with that sharper, tangier scent. That scent of warm, fresh, willing femininity - youthful, newly driven to ecstasy... A scent just delicately tinged with maidenhead blood.

He tried to moan again, his throat still feeling so parched.

The dryness of his lust, all saliva flowing forth into his drool, meeting the ragged harshness of his cries, his screams of girlish ecstasy... He wonder his throat hurt.

He swallowed, and tried opening his eyes again.

Grace and Richard are hovering over him.

There was something unaccountably off.

Was it something in the light? The room?  That slight look in Grace's eye?

"...Now, sweetie - I don't want you to panic..." She began diplomatically.

He was barely listening.

There was an odd feeling in his chest. A hand moved over, still-numb fingers brushed...

He sat up.

He shrieked again.

"Yes, I can see that you've noticed..." Grace said with something like empathy in her voice. Empathy, and perhaps just the slightest edge of amused smugness.

Conrad looked around the room suddenly, his hand still incredulously brushing at the pert little breast thrusting perkily from his chest.

It... It wasn't a dream... It really was DIFFERENT...

"There must have been a LOT of repressed femininity there," Richard was intoning expertly. "... Explains some things about his... Lack of skill, I guess..."

Conrad looked down, then back up, then down again.

"I... I..." He squeaked. Really squeaked. "I'm... I have..."

"I think your name is Connie, dear" Grace said, holding up his ID.

"I'M A GIRL!" He shrieked.

"To be expected, really" Richard added, nodding slightly.

"I'm... The room is..." he flailed on.

"It's a girl's room, dear... I mean, it IS yours"

"Bbbbbbbbbuuuuuuuuuuttttttt... How.... HOW...???"

"We must have hit QUITE a vein of girlishness" Richard continued.

Conrad thus found a focus.

"YOU!" He gasped, sitting upright, new breasts bouncing. "YOU did this to me!" He shrieked.

Richard and Grace are visibly affronted.

"ME?" Richard guffawed. "I suppose it's MY fault that you came like such a slutty little bitch that you re-centered the entire universe around the idea that that's exactly what you are?"

Conrad was up now. He dashed on wobbly legs to the new full length mirror in the corner.

His shriek of dismay filled the room.

He was... SHE was...

He didn't really look all that different, really. Thin, petite - dainty even - with a short mop of tomboyish hair around a delicate face. A thin silver chain around his neck one of the few concessions to outright femininity... His open shirt revealing...

Dear god - he was so PERKY. His breasts weren't large and weren't really small either. They looked deceptively small front-on because of how out-thrust they were... How gravity-defyingly PERT.

His pokey little pink nipples wobbling prissily atop almost conical...

He shrieked again.

"Oh, stop it, sweetie" Grace laughed.

Conrad dashed to his subtly altered dresser. His cute little mouth with its minimal lipstick dropping open in shock as he pulled out his lacy little bras... His white little panties...

His outfit from the office was lying discarded nearby. The smart little powder-blue blouse, the matching knee-length skirt, the two-inch kitten heels.

Just perfect for a sensible girl around the office.

He suddenly noticed and grabbed his purse... His PURSE... Gaping as his eye first met the tampon sitting helpfully right on top, digging around to find...

"Oh dear... This is going to be quite a shock for her, isn't it?" Grace tutted.

"It might be better this way, Grace," Richard returned. "Perhaps she can..."

"I'M... I'M A SECRETARY?" Conrad squealed. "BOB'S secretary? BOB!?!"

"Oh... I suppose you are, dear"

The tomboyish young woman glancing in stupefaction around the room made a few further sputtering sounds, and her eye fell back on Richard.

"FIX ME!" She squeaked, shrilly. Tossing herself to her knees in front of him. "FIX ME"

Grace seemed rather offended by this. "Now, sweetie - you don't need to be FIXED... You're a completely healthy young woman, and..."

"FIX ME!" Conrad repeated, his eyes glassy. "Fuck me again! FIX ME!"

Richard tutted. "Uh... How predictable! She's a girl for a few minutes and she can't simply think of anything but..."

Conrad's face twitched, but he fought it down and simply, humbly repeated. "Fix me!"

Richard sighed. "Now, Connie - it's not up to me. You can't simply DEMAND things like this from Grace! She performed quite REMARKABLY - truly REMARKABLY - in giving you such a reality-bending orgasm the first time... Something, which, incidentally YOU never... But we'll say nothing more about that. My point is that Grace needs to..."

Grace cut in, obviously flattered. "Oh, Richard! I feel AMAZING! Thanks to you, I truly feel like I could run a marathon yet!"

"...Be that as it may, Grace - this is the kind of inconsiderate behaviour that we've been talking about. She can't simply DEMAND... I mean, look at her - down on her knees, DEMANDING like the little hussy that she..."

"Oh, Richard... Be gentle with her! She must have had quite a shock... And I really think that I..."

"Be that as it may, Grace..."

Conrad just knelt there, panting still, his supernaturally perky breasts jiggling just slightly as he looked back and forth between the two.

"P-Please!" He eventually cut in. "I... I'm SORRY! I'm SORRY that I've been... For what I've... I'll do better, really! I... I just NEED... Please!"

Richard started tutting again, but Grace's sympathetic voice interrupted.

"Oh, Richard - I really think we should. Besides, it would be amazing practice. I think I was just starting to get the hang of it before..."

"Grace, you are a master - a MASTER - how it's even possible with the poor example you've seen, I don't know, but never think that you aren't already simply..."

Conrad bit his lip, the unfamiliar taste of his subtle lipstick drifting into his mouth as he listened to the two of them carry on.

"...Well, I suppose... If Grace TRULY feels..."

"I do, Richard! In fact, i'm looking forward to it!"

Richard sighed. "You truly don't deserve Grace, you know" he eventually said.

Conrad was barely able to contain himself as he tossed himself back onto the bed, enthusiastically grabbing his ankles in his delicate little girlish hands.

"So... So if I just don't cum like a... So hard... Then... Then...? I WAS JUST SURPRISED IS ALL! That's why I..."

"Oh, stop gabbling, sweetheart" Grace said as she hungrily climbed on top of him.

"M-Maybe *I* should be on top...?" Conrad suggested weakly. "Maybe it would be better if..."

Grace just grinned and thrust.

Conrad stopped suggesting, his mouth falling open with just the faintest line of drool.

Oh! OH! It felt... It somehow felt even BETTER this time!

Some increasingly distant, logical part of his mind speculated that maybe it was because he wasn't... A VIRGIN anymore... Not quite so tight, so painfully oversensitive... Able to appreciate better the...

Conrad gave a girlish little moan and that part of his mind floated away in a bubble of ecstasy.

"Connie, dear!" He heard Grace saying, as if from a great distance. "You're supposed to be acting like LESS of a whore!" And tittered indulgently to herself.

She continued to thrust, of course. Pushing, exploring, FILLING....

Conrad could feel Richard - feel despite the more than adequate lubrication generated by his tight little good-girl pussy - FEEL that edge of FRICTION.

An image popped into his mind of someone once demonstrating starting a campfire with only a few dry sticks... How the stick would rub and rub and rub, and a little line of smoke would appear, rub and rub and rub and rub and scorchmarks would become more and more obvious...

From that friction, building, building up, until it all suddenly exploded into flames...

Exploded into that bright, blinding, updraft and flame and sudden burning light... burst with that WHOOOMPF of fire in soft straw and light young wood.

An odd little noise started to leak from between his lips, one that he didn't seem to be quite able to stop.

He suddenly realised, lying back, legs in the air, his perky titties bouncing and wobbling with each thrust (OH GOD IT FELT SO... HIS NIPPLES WERE SO *BIG* AND *HARD* NOW AND THEY, THEY *TINGLED* SO!) that he KNEW what came next now. He could remember it from last time.

He wasn't a virgin girl anymore.

He'd been given a more than proper deep dicking before and knew what it was like.

He... Remembered that feeling, just as Grace was becoming careless and rough in the heat of her imminent ejaculation, that feeling of Richard pressing hard into his...

Oh God, that must be his womb! The feeling of Richard bottoming out, poking into his fresh, tight little womb... Just before he... Just before he'd...

He remembered that feeling, that burst, that explosion... In his memory it was accompanied by actual fireworks, but that must have been a delusion of his rather embarrassing, inexplicably girlifying, screaming orgasm.... But he remembered it still, that feeling of a cock, bottomed-out in his tight juicy little virgin cunt EXPLODING into warmth and joy and ecstasy and...

OH GOD IT WAS SO GOOD WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE SO GOOD?

...And here Grace was panting again - maybe almost as hard as he was... She was thrusting... She was...

OH CHRIST SOMEHOW BEING ABLE TO RECOGNISE IT COMING JUST MADE IT EVEN BETTER! EVEN...

Conrad's eyes rolled back into his pretty little head, his mouth twitching and hips bucking silently but desperately.

His cascade of continuous explosive, lightning fast multiple orgasms refused to stop, or lessen, or even to stop BUILDING and BUILDING...

He was so completely unable to draw breath through his ecstasy that he saw the colourful spots of hypoxia blossom into his field of view, blossom brighter and brighter, flashing along with the raging friction-fire deep in his perfect little pussy as he fought, agonisingly, to draw breath... As it STILL somehow BUILT AND BUILT AND BUILT AND BUILT AND...

Richard popped, and so did Connie. Finally succeeding in drawing a great breath, only to instantly lose it in the hurricane-force of his unrepentant scream of unending exhilarated euphoria...

He flopped around, semi-conscious and white eyed, reminiscent of a dead fish, but still somehow squealing like a whore...

The feeling of dread hit him the instant he returned to consciousness.

He... He could FEEL it... Feel... THEM...

He gasped and jerked upwards, hands already grabbing towards his chest...

He gaped down.

He gaped up.

He gaped down.

Grace and Richard standing, tolerantly amused perhaps? Grace with her arms folded.

His girly little hands sunk into his TITS, his huge HUGE bulging bouncing outthrust slutty slut titty TITS!

"They're fake, you know" Richard said very unhelpfully as Conrad started to squeal, his long hair falling onto his face.

"Oh sweetie, stop that!" Grace chided eventually, as Conrad seemed like he would never stop mashing and squeezing and grabbing and bouncing his massive silicone knockers in horrified disbelief.

He looked up, and around the room, eyes wild, mascara smudged.

"It's different again!" He wailed in his sex kitten voice, leaping up and nearly falling in his six inch slut heels, until some learned instinct kicked in and left him merely wobbling.

Long, unsteady legs carried him to the mirror - the wall-length mirror next to the makeup table, next to the other mirror, next to the dresser - and he gasped.

"I'm..." He burbled. "I'm... I'M..."

Well, he certainly wasn't boyish anymore. Not with that hourglass figure, those slut tits, that lascivious face under his whorish makeup.

"A waitress, it seems" Grace remarked, stretching and examining the tiny Lycra top she'd found discarded on the floor.

It was joke tiny, white, and had 'BOOBEEZ!' written across it in big, silly letters.

"I... I work at Boobeez?!!??!" Conrad gasped, his eye falling in the matching microskirt lying discarded on the floor next to it.

"So it would seem..." Richard began, but Conrad wasn't listening, dashing for his slutty little vinyl purse instead.

"My... My name is CANDI???" He squeaked.

He flicked open his phone, his hands moving automatically to protect his long, acrylic nails.

The wallpaper showed him - HIM - Candi! At work in her ridiculous little getup. Her top stretched ludicrously across her chest - 'BOOBEEZ' being rendered nearly unreadable - but was too brief to cover the bottoms of the mountainous breasts which bobbled into easy, sexy view... Almost like her two buttocks wobbled out from under her ridiculous little uniform skirt.

In the picture, she was slapping a little hand to her lipsticked mouth in mock surprise, her eyes wide and flirty, as a drunken, dirty man behind her slid his hand up under her teensy little top.

His fingers were grabbing roughly at her underboob - one finger reaching up towards the protuberant nipple so clearly outlined by the tightness and translucency of her top.

Conrad made a little noise.

It was ALL like that! - he... He had SO MANY men's numbers...

He... He was an Instagram star?

He was already logged into his account, vast numbers of new, crass horny comments piling up on his library of shots from work.

Shots of him leaning over mockingly, lips parted just enough as he eyefucked the camera... Bending to deposit a plate, a young boy's eyes goggling as he was able to glance straight down that top, the father more distracted by the bare ass poking into view beneath that joke of a skirt...

Masturbating in the kitchen?

How did that even make any sense???

Oh GOD! He was on OnlyFans too!

His phone slid from between his numb fingers.

"I... I'M..." He squeaked, his hands automatically returning to squeeze at his ludicrous porn-knockers. "I'M... I'M A... A... A...."

"I think you might be a bit of a slut, dear" Grace finished, her lip curling just slightly in disapproval as she took in his messy, disorganised, shameless room and the disbelieving vigour with which he was mashing his tits.

"Hmmmm..." Richard opined. "It's quite remarkable that a man... Even one as... Inadequate... As you were, could contain such whorish energy.

...Why I don't recall you jerking me to the thought of men very often at all, and yet upon losing your virginity to a PROPER dick-fucking, you seem to have immediately found your true passion, as well as your true nature! You must be very happy"

Conrad sputtered, but looked finally at Richard.

"FFFFIX MEEEEE!" He squeaked. "FIX ME! FIX ME! FIX ME!"

He hefted his ludicrous tits in his palms as if holding them up as an example.

"FFFFFFFFFFFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXX MEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!"

Richard and Grace both scoffed and exchanged glances.

"Candi, YOU are the one who keeps doing this to yourself" Richard tutted. "You need to take responsibility for your total inability to resist cumming like a shameless whore!"

He looked up at Grace.

"... You see, this is what I was talking about the other day when I said..."

Conrad threw himself to his knees, an act that came across as oddly natural and practiced for him, even in his stripper heels.

"I... I'M NOT... I DON'T *WANNABE* A SLUTTY BIMBO WHORE!" He wailed, still grabbing his breasts. "PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! I'LL NEVER ASK ANYTHING AGAIN! I'LL DO ANYTHING! JUST... JUST..."

Richard sighed. "Already fucked to oblivion TWICE, and yet can't keep from begging for more! So SHAMELESS!" He muttered.

"Oh, Richard!" Grace said, gently stroking him. "I know she's just a silly little tramp, but can't we help her in since way? I mean, look how UNHAPPY and NEEDY she is!"

Richard shook his head. "Grace, you are simply FAR too kind - it is your only failing, but in moments like this, it can be a significant one. LOOK at her! Look at that little tart! You don't owe her any..."

"Oh, I know, dear - I know. But she just seems so..."

Conrad was barely listening, just staring and squeezing. He'd just realised that he was kneeling on several condoms that had been tossed around the room due to a packet having been torn open rather hastily... And following the trail, had realised that a similarly mutilated packet rested on almost every surface, their remaining contents spilling out into constant convenient grasp.

He made a little sound in his throat and his glance flew back to Grace and Richard.

"I mean - even if you somehow had the STAMINA to give the undeserving little tramp what she so obviously wants, SHE'S the one doing this..."

"Oh, Richard - I actually really think I could! You... You just ENERGIZE me so! It's unlike anything I've ever..."

"Now, Grace - you know that's just you. Why, if anything, it's YOU who are filling ME with the ability to..."

Conrad saw where the conversation was going.

"YOU... YOU CAN FUCK ME AGAIN???" He gasped, hurling himself onto his slinky, red satin-sheeted bed. "YOU CAN FIX ME? YOU CAN FIX MEEEE!"

Richard harrumphed indignantly. "You really are the most indecorous little... But EVEN if Grace was able - and I will NOT allow her to exert herself any further on the account of the likes of you! - YOU are the one doing this, Candi! No one can 'Fix' you, because this is of your own doing! THIS IS SIMPLY WHAT YOU ARE!"

Conrad sniffled slightly and bounced energetically, barely listening in his panic. "FUCK ME! FIX ME! FUCK ME! FIX MEEEEEE!" He squeaked repeatedly.

"Whatever did you ever see in him...?" Richard asked Grace in genuine bewilderment.

Grace seemed at an honest loss.

"FUCK ME! FIX ME! FUCK ME! FIX ME! PLEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!!!" Conrad continued whining.

"Insatiable!" Richard muttered darkly.

Grace was looking thoughtful. "Richard, darling - I know that this is the trollop's own silly little fault... But IS there anything you could do? I know you're terribly wise about these..."

Richard brushed her complement aside. "Grace, I simply won't allow you to..."

Grace laughed slightly. "Oh! Honestly, I'm still raring to go, Richard! I can't believe how you make me feel! Just so..."

"Grace, you must be the single most remarkable woman I've ever..."

"OH RICHARD!"

Conrad was lying back, ankles in hands, eyes wild, listening.

"Well, Grace... I suppose... No, I couldn't allow it!"

"Oh, Richard?"

"I mean, PERHAPS there is a way to... Hmmmm..."

Conrad was nodding deliriously. "YES... YES... YES... YES........"

"Oh, however could you manage it, Richard? Whatever is your secret?"

Richard sighed, heavily.

"Grace", he said grimly. "...I'M GOING TO HAVE TO FUCK HER ASS"

So it happened after more wheedling and discussing.

Richard suggested that since Conrad seemed to, on some obviously superficial level, REJECT the notion that he was just a big-tittied whore, they would have to play into that reluctance.

If he could somehow be made to push back against that idea, to feel how WRONG it was for him, then maybe, just maybe...

"Grace, could you please put fifty dollars on her nightstand... No, wait! Twenty! She may not feel that fifty dollars makes her cheap" Richard instructed, still in his grim tone.

He'd ordered Conrad to dress back up in his BOOBEEZ! uniform. When Conrad looked about to argue, Richard had explained that the fact that he didn't WANT to be dressed up that way, being fucked like a cheap piece of ass WAS THE WHOLE POINT!

He'd clearly had it entirely with Conrad's nonsense, and been very unsympathetic as he'd demanded that he pinch his nipples through his top to make them stand out harder, and then take several pictures of himself fingering his clitoris and moaning shamelessly.

"Good," Richard finally decided. "Now send them to everyone in your phone"

Conrad paled. "E-Everyone?" He squeaked.

Richard exploded. "YES, EVERYONE, YOU STUPID BIMBO! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO, THEN OBVIOUSLY YOU *HAVE* TO! - YOU NEED TO EMPHASIZE ALL THE THINGS ABOUT BEING A DUMB SLUTTY WHORE THAT YOU *DON'T* LIKE! DO I REALLY HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT TO YOUR DUMB, DITZY ASS ONE MORE FUCKING TIME???"

Conrad pouted and 'sent all'.

Sent the pictures of him, mouth open, head back, tongue waggling, nipples glass-cutting, as he teased his clitty under his tiny skirt with a long acrylic nail, sent them to his mother and his father and his grandmother and his... Everyone.

Richard was about ready. Grace looked worried for him.

"Richard, dear... If... If you don't feel good about... I understand if..."

"No, Grace" he hissed. "It has to be done"

Conrad was on his belly across his bed, his huge fake silicone titties mashed impressively against his mattress, ass thrust upwards, his tiny joke skirt flipped back.

His whorishly made-up face stared back at them, reflected in a mirror beside the bed.

"Grace," Richard said at the last moment, "you'll need to mock him. Call him every slutty name you can think of. We need to break through to the part of being a trashy little tart that he DOESN'T like! It's the only way!"

Grace nodded, biting her lip.

"I... I understand, Richard. Oh, Richard, dear! I... Just love you EVER so much..."

"I know, Grace... I KNOW..."

Grace thrusted, hard.

Conrad came instantly and explosively.

Grace gasped with the sensation. "Oh... Oooooooo.... Oh!.... Ooooooooooooooh!" She gasped, and then looked up, still thrusting, remembering her task. "Oh," she said. "You... You're a... A..."

Her eyes met Conrad's face, reflected in the mirror.

Conrad's gaping, ecstasy-twisted face, eyes rolled back, expression suitable for a hentai character.

"Oh!" Grace gasped in shock. "OH!... You... You've... Did you cum already? Just... Just from having a cock in your ass, you came INSTANTLY????"

Conrad may have tried to respond, but all that came out of his wide, candy-glossed lips was the loudest, most whorish moan imaginable. No overacting porn starlet had ever been so lacking in self-respect to overact that much.

"OH!" Grace gasped in outrage. "And... And Richard is trying so hard! But you... YOU REALLY ARE JUST A STUPID NEEDY SLUT! YOU REALLY *ARE* JUST A... A... A *FUCKING* WHORE!!!"

Conrad started to almost convulse, his whorish moans only growing somehow  louder and less restrained.

"You DUMB TRASHY FUCKING WHORE!" Grace screamed. "YOU SLUTTY WORTHLESS HARLOT!"

Conrad's empty, but dripping - and steaming - cunt pulsed hotly and wetly and powerfully with her every word.

To the degree that he was conscious of anything but the huge cock lodged hard and far up his bouncing slut ass, every one of her words was a firey lightning bolt of rapture rushing deep, deeply into his sizzling little pussy.

He started squealing like an actual pig, body wracked with paroxysms of horrible, irresistible pleasure.

"YOU COCKSUCKING LITTLE TRAMP! YOU MEWLING IMMATURE LITTLE SLUTTY SLUT!" Grace raged, still thrusting hard in her anger, fighting to make herself heard over Conrad's girlish shrieking. "YOU LITTLE TROLLOP! CONRAD... CONNIE... CANDI... KANDEE-SUE! KANDEE-SUE, YOU ARE A WORTHLESS LITTLE WHORE BIMBO TROLLOP HARLOT TRAMP!!!"

The nipples atop Conrad's ridiculous silicone titties were threatening to slice through his mattress with every thrust.

He lost all sense of time... Of self... Of anything but the explosions of joy from his chest, and pussy, and - most of all - deep, deep in his slutty slutty slutty little ass...

It was obvious that quite some time had passed when Conrad's thoroughly blown little mind finally finished collecting itself, and he jerked upright in his messy bed, hands flying straight to his tits.

His huge, wobbling tits.

Oh God - were they somehow even bigger?

MAYBE... But they definitely felt somehow undefinably FAKER, and more outthrust from his chest... His delicate little chest.

"Well, look who's finally up..." Grace said.

Conrad looked up, long bleach blonde hair in his face, hands squeezing at his boobs.

The room looked VERY different this time.

"...If it isn't slutty little Kandee-Sue!" Grace continued with a mean, mocking edge in her voice as she waved the ID she'd pulled out of Conrad's new purse. "Kandee-Sue... I suddenly realised that was your new name when you were only a few minutes into your endless screaming orgasm."

Conrad blushed slightly and Grace smirked.

"... It looks like you're a High School Dropout, dear"

Conrad's eyes were already wandering across his new, changed room. The obvious room of a teenage girl.

A very, very trashy slutty teenage girl.

Some distant part of his mind made him squeeze at his tits in a new, speculative fashion.

Yes, I suppose they did feel fresh and perky enough - even without their ridiculous silicone core - to be genuine teenybopper tits.

He made a little sound, and noticed something else about his suddenly smaller room.

"Yes, it's a trailer" Richard joined in finally. "Your father is dozing on the couch through the wall... We met him before. He seems pleasant enough - when inebriated, anyway"

Grace had picked a truly miniscule item of discarded lingerie off the floor and was examining it dispassionately, her nose wrinkled.

Conrad tried to blow his hair out of his face, and looked down at his delicate little hands where they were mashing his ridiculous boobs through his sheer little babydoll nightie.

He... He was TRAILER TRASH. A slutty little trailerpark teen dropout with fake tits!

Grace had moved on to examining a six-inch stripper heel she'd found on the floor nearby.

Conrad could suddenly imagine how it'd feel to be wearing those, teetering, micro-skirt wiggling, ass and tits thrust out, giggling tipsily as he 'accidentally' lost his balance and fell chest-first into the nearest male.

He felt his nipples grow harder in his hands. Under the covers, his tight little pussy tingled and twitched and moistened...

He made a pathetic little sound and his gaze flew to Richard.

"Oh, fuck no - I am DONE" Richard immediately said, as if reading his fluffy little mind.

Conrad mouth flapped impotently. His tacky makeup had clearly run badly in his sleep.

"... Besides, Sweetie - you have a BOYFRIEND!" Grace announced, smirking again.

Conrad couldn't even process that.

She held up a photograph she'd just found on his wall.

It showed a trashy little bleach-blonde trailerpark slut in the big, big burly arms of heavily tattooed biker. He was smirking, she was giggling. One of his hands was on her ass and the other was in her top.

A big cheesy pink loveheart ringed around them.

Conrad's wide eyes seemed to be getting even wider.

"B... BUT! BUT BUT but BUT!" He squeaked, and stopped as he suddenly realised he had an accent. A heavy, silly, dumb hick accent that made him sound even dumber than his breathy little whore voice did.

"Buuuuuut uh don't wanna..." He finally managed to drawl momentarily before Richard cut him off.

"Well, there you are, then!" He said dismissively. "In the unlikely event that you DON'T actually crave his cock like the little slut that you are, then maybe HE can help you with your little problem. Maybe a deep dicking by a penis that you're NOT into might remind you that you're not the total, total little whore that you obviously are."

"Oh - isn't that nice for you, then?" Grace agreed. "Now, Richard and I will obviously be needing to run along... There's so much we need to be doing. But it was, of course, nice to meet you, Miss Kandee-Sue"

She turned to leave, and before Conrad could overcome his shock sufficiently to do anything more than squeeze his tits harder and gasp, she and Richard had left the room.

He could hear them outside as they stepped down from his trailer and departed, talking and laughing like old friends.

He sat there for a moment.

In his slutty little messy teen girl room with its posters of boybands now almost entirely covered by ragged pictures of buff, naked men. With disorganised piles of filmy slutwear to make a stripper blush.

I'LL GET THEM BACK! He finally told himself. I'LL FIX EVERYTHING, JUST LIKE RICHARD SAID I COULD, AND I'LL GET THEM BACK!

"Kandee-Sue!" He suddenly heard a drunken man belching from the next room.

"Whut is it, Daddy?" He reflexively answered.

"Be a good lil gurl and help yur Daddy find 'is pants!" The response slurred back.

It was going to be a long day.

He found his boyfriend's number in his phone eventually. In his sparkly pink phone with a nude selfie for its wallpaper.

It was hard to find his boyfriend... Because he had SO many boys' numbers in here. SO many explicit, giggly chats, with reams of exchanged photographs... And not just of luscious, big-tittied him.

He'd begged for dickpics. BEGGED.

He had a special folder.

A series of folders, organised by size and race and 'spurtiness' and 'YUMMINESS'.

He blushed furiously to see them.

...Did... Did his boyfriend not know?

Or did he just not care that his girl was the Magellan of dicks and the Michelin Guide of Jizz?

Clearly, he'd need to tread carefully, just in case.

...And it was SILLY, of course! RIDICULOUS! FAKE!

ALL a silly misunderstanding on the part of the Universe!

Why, looking at all of those cocks wasn't really... He hadn't... He wasn't...

His nipples ached with their hardness, yes - but that was UNRELATED! Like his drooling just a little bit.

His lil pussy probably ALWAYS simmered like this!

So, anyway, he eventually managed to isolate his boyfriend from the rest of his.... Friends? Admirers? Fuckbuddies?... And sent him a message.

Joe-Bob.

That was his name.

Can you believe it? Joe-Bob and Kandee-Sue: Trailer Park Royalty.

Joe-Bob had been quite unenthusiastic.

Conrad had had to send him a string of escalating provocations. And several pictures. And a number of promises about what he would and wouldn't be wearing.

Joe-Bob eventually gave a textual sigh and said he'd be by soon.

Conrad had gotten ready slowly, just as nervous as a teen girl meeting her boyfriend for the first time should be, I guess.

He told himself that he was fixing his makeup to look less trashy, really, and he was putting on the most modest things that he seemed to own.

It wasn't really true, though. Yes - his heavy makeup looked a bit less slutty not smeared, but did he really need to make it that BOLD?

Yes, these MIGHT be among the least skimpy items he could find, but that only meant that they were probably almost street-legal. Almost.

Joe-Bob dropped by, his bike growling impressively, just as Conrad was giving in and starting to really finger his clitoris in earnest.

He instinctively checked that biting at his lip hadn't stained his teeth with his thick lipstick. He fluffed his big hair. He vainly yanked at his tiny little slut skirt - as if concealing his pussy would somehow also hide away its constant, burning demands.

He bit at his lip again and wondered if maybe Joe-Bob could be made to wait while he experimented slightly with one of those cucumber-sized dildos he had an entire drawer full of.

...Maybe that really big knobbly one with the...

He lurched compulsively towards the drawer, face flushed, already planning what excuse he would make for the delay as...

"KANDEE-SUE!" Joe-Bob called, slamming on his window.

Oh God, he was right there! He could see right into his room. He must be bigger and taller than Conrad had thought...

He felt an odd twitch between his legs, and swallowed uncomfortably.

He yanked at his little micro-mini again.

It really didn't help.

He'd just hopped on the back of Joe-Bob's bike, like it was automatic.

He had no idea where they were going, but it seemed to be taking a while.

He clung tighter to his boyfriend, his little arms firming around his waist. His huge wobbling tits were mashed so hard into that muscular back that Joe-Bob must surely have been able to feel the rockhard nipples poking into his flesh.

The wind blew Conrad's trashy hair into his face.

Joe-Bob was driving like a MANIAC too!

It was so unsafe!

They were going through the city center now, dodging carelessly through traffic. Conrad was certainly aware that his tiny skirt was blowing freely and showing off his ass and tiny slutty panties to everyone around them. He would have known even if everyone wasn't honking and hooting in appreciation.

He hadn't really been on a motorbike before, certainly not like this.

It was shockingly loud, and... And POWERFUL. He could feel its barely constrained power, FEEL it between his legs as he straddled it, feel the blast of the wind and the coolness between his thighs...

The vibration of the engine was tickling at him, the purr of its power making him even more aware of the filminess of his panties, how thin and translucent and inadequate they were for...

Another moan escaped from his lips. Deep and lusty and lead-heavy with NEED. He told himself the roar of the engine covered it. Even if Joe-Bob must be able to feel it, feel the vibration of it in the chest that was being so snuggly thrust against him.

Oh God - his panties really weren't up to this. They were so thin, so teasingly sheer - they weren't ABSORBENT enough for this. His perch was positively damp. He must be leaving a trail of drops. Soon the cars behind them would have to put on their windscreen wipers...

They arrived.

Somewhere.

Joe-Bob was with his friends, Conrad had to pant and pout and wheedle.

...Even when Joe-Bob had finally gotten into the mood, he'd mainly wanted to do boob-stuff, his hand in Conrad's little crop top, his fingers pinching.

Conrad was breathless and gasping through their open-mouthed, tongue-waggling kiss, but obviously it wasn't enough. The flames under his streetwalker-skirt demanded MORE, so much more...

He got it eventually.

Up against a wall in the backalley behind a porno theater. Everyone else watching and hooting and snickering.

Like he gave a shit.

He briefly tried to remember to hate it or something, to definitely definitely not give in to his harlot nature and just fucking love being fucked stupid and slackjawed like the dripping little slut that he was.

Yep, yep - definitely. He was rejecting it all.

DEFINITELY...

He worked out the instant he got his hands in Joe-Bob's pants why he - a girl with a veritable library of dickpics organised by size and width and hardness - had ended up with Joe-Bob over all the others.

God - he needed to have it in his mouth. He needed it more than anything.

He came even harder than ever before, his cute little lipsticked mouth streaming with rich creamy jizz.

That got him a super-slutty little tramp stamp. And another two cupsizes. And a somehow even shorter skirt. And an aversion to underwear. And a burgeoning career as a tabledancer. And a legendary reputation in every high school for fifty miles.

Richard wouldn't have been surprised.

...He'd heard it then: after Joe-Bob had wandered off and left him, slumped and messy and moaning and missing his underwear, in that alleyway. He heard the sudden titter from under his skanky little skirt.

"Hehehehe! Like, OMG!" His pussy said. "You love cocks as much as *I* do! We are, like, gonna have SSSOOOOOOO much fun!!!"