02

[Comments—except of the ignorant, hater variety—are always encouraged. -Cyanlot]

Part I: How it Started

I don't know how I got here. Up until this moment, it was all like a fuzzy dream. Now it is like a dream come true.

I'm dressed in my sexiest lavender lace bra and panties, wearing thigh-high stockings and 5" stiletto white heels. Those heels would be hard to walk in. But I'm not walking. I'm not standing. I'm on my knees surrounded by five hard cocks pointing in in my direction.

Outside the circle of men are a few women. One is clearly in charge. Somehow, I know her name is Lori. I don't know how I know that. I can't figure out who she was or how I know her, not that I have much time to think about that.

"Come on, Vicki," Lori urges. "These cocks aren't going to suck themselves. Get going. You know you want this!"

Whoever Lori is, she knows me well enough on that score. I'm burning with a hunger I can't describe. I don't just

want

to suck these cocks, I

crave

sucking them. I'm positively aching to get one of these cocks in my mouth—to fill my senses with it. I want to feel it fill my mouth, press against the back of my throat; I want to feel the helmet slide between my lips and press over my tongue. I want to inhale its scent and savor its taste.

It's a hunger that won't tolerate delay. I crawl to the cock that is right in front of me and take it into my mouth in one swift motion. As I feel it fill my mouth, pleasure floods my entire body. The aching need is being satisfied. I suck on it hard, moving my mouth back and forth over the hard shaft.

I hear a moan and realize that it's coming from me. I can't describe my sense of euphoria. Words fail me. The harder I suck—the more I pump the hard cock with my hand as I swallow it as deeply as I can—the more intense my pleasure.

Finally, having slaked my thirst just a bit, I manage to pull my mouth off of this cock that's been giving me so much pleasure. I look at it, wet with my saliva and looking huge in my small hand. It looks lovely ... delicious.

"That's right, Vicki," Lori eggs me on. "Make love to that cock; worship it!" Her instructions are unnecessary. That's what I'm going to do anyway.

Lifting the cock I move my tongue to the base of the shaft, planning to lick and kiss my way to the tip. As I inhale the intoxicating, musky scent and see his balls hanging before me, I change my plan.

I kiss the ball sack and gently take one of the sweet balls into my mouth. As I suck on it, I think about the sperm cells that are percolating there, ready to be swept up by his semen and shot out of the length of his cock, into my eager mouth.

Now I begin licking the underside of his shaft, slowly working my way to the sensitive tip. I take the cock into my mouth again, sucking it vigorously and not even trying to suppress my moans of pleasure.

"Oh, Vicki," Lori interrupts, "You need to tell him how beautiful his cock is, how much you crave it. You need to tell him what you want and what you're going to do to him."

As soon as Lori says this, I realize that I

do

need to do that. It's not enough just to suck this lovely cock. I need to find the words to express what I'm feeling.

"Oh, God!" I say breathlessly, as I pull my mouth off of the rigid rod. "I love your cock. I want to take the whole thing in my mouth, but it's so big." I stroke the wet shaft and then lick it again from the base to the tip, flicking my tongue over the tip.

"And what do you want to make that cock do, Vicki?"

I take a deep breath. "I want to make you cum! I want to make you explode in my mouth, to fill me with your sweet cream. I want to suck you dry, get every drop of cum from this perfect cock."

It's all true. I'm fixated on this cock. It crosses my mind that I have no idea whose cock this is. I haven't taken my eyes off the cock to look up to see his face. I guess I should care, but I don't. I go back to taking the object of my lust back into my mouth and I start sucking in earnest.

"That's good, Vicki," I hear Lori compliment me. She goes on commenting from time to time, but her voice recedes from my consciousness. I'm focused only on the hard cock I'm worshiping, taking in all of the sensations it's producing in me: the taste, the scent, the way it stretches my lips, slides across my tongue, and presses against the back of my throat.

At this moment, this hard cock is my world. I suck on it like a wild woman, pumping it hard, in anticipation of my sweet reward.

And that reward isn't long in coming (sp?). As the cock is pistoning furiously in and out of my mouth, I sense the impending climax. I clamp hard on the base of the cock with my hand and feel pulse after pulse of cum shooting down the shaft toward my waiting mouth.

When I feel the hot, salty semen blast against the back of my mouth, I have an incredible sense of euphoric satisfaction. It's as if this is the one sensation I'd been craving all my life and suddenly I'm awash in it.

Even after the pulsating of the cock slows, I keep it in my mouth, savoring the taste of the cum and the wonderful feeling of having coaxed every drop from the now softening shaft.

Finally I back away and gaze for a second at the cock I'd tamed so well.

"You need to kiss it," Lori instructs "and thank it for giving you what you craved."

That seems so natural, so appropriate, as to be almost necessary. I happily kiss the cock that has given me so much pleasure and say, "thank you." It might seem strange to others, I suppose, that this was addressed not to the man whose cock I had just sucked but to the cock itself. But it doesn't seem strange to me. For me, it was all about the cock.

"That's great, Vicki. But, remember, there are other cocks here for your pleasure."

I had forgotten But I'm very happy to be reminded. More pleasure awaits me.

As I turn to approach the hard cock to my right, I notice that a little cum had dribbled down onto my breast, just above the top of my lacy lavender bra. I swipe it up with one finger and suck it off, appreciating this last taste of the first cock before moving on to the second.

The second cock is different. It's black. What a treat! I mean, doesn't every girl have at least a little bit of a fantasy about sucking a black dick. I did. And now I got to live my fantasy.

That fantasy so many girls have includes a stereotype: the 'B' in 'BBC'. This black cock isn't particularly big. It is, though, beautiful, so maybe that's what the 'B' stands for in this case. The cock is veiny, with a very pronounced helmet that is almost purple.

I can't wait to get it in my mouth. How can I be so horny, so desperate to feel this cock in my mouth, when I've just had such satisfaction from the last cock? Hard to believe, but it's true. Once again, I am aching to feel this erect cock fill my mouth.

This time, though, I begin by lifting the dark demon gently and sucking, first one, then the other, walnut-sized testicle into my mouth, gently massaging them with my tongue. As I do this the masculine scent, subtly different from before, fills my nostrils.

I lick the bottom of the cock from the base to the tip, savoring the taste and texture on my tongue.

"I think Vicki might like this one even better than the last," Lori says—not to me but to the others in the room who are, no doubt, enjoying the show. "But maybe for Vicki, the best cock is whichever one is in her mouth!" There is some scattered laughter at that. But I care not at all for what those watching might be thinking.

Holding the eager cock by the base, I take it deep in my mouth, enjoying once again the feeling of my mouth being filled by a hard cock. I cup the dark balls in one hand and wrap the other tightly around the base of the fat cock.

I remember Lori's instructions on the last cock and, without prompting, I pull off of the delicious cock long enough to say how much I want to feel it explode in my mouth with sweet, salty cum. Then I go back to work on it to achieve exactly that. (It's not really right to say, 'back to

work

'. It was really pleasure.)

Never in my life have I felt more beautiful, more feminine. There is something indescribably wonderful about being dressed in my sexiest lingerie, on my knees, with my mouth filled with a hard cock.

As I suck and slobber on this lovely cock and jack it from the base, I can feel it nearing its climax. I would have liked to extend that moment, to be able to savor it for a while. Wouldn't it be wonderful if life were like a film that could go into slow motion at moments like this? It would be great if the edging and climax could extend for minutes.

Instead, all of that excitement is compressed into a matter of seconds. The cock teeters on the edge of explosion for a few seconds and, then, begins blasting my mouth with pulse after pulse of hot semen.

I struggle to keep up with the firehose. I gag a bit when the cock pounds a little down my throat and I feel some of the cum dribbling down my chin and onto my breasts. It is a wonderful kind of sloppy mess.

When I pull back from the cock, almost reluctantly letting it slip from my lips. I admire the effect of my efforts. The softening cock is slick with my spit and some of the cum it has just spewed into my mouth. I admire its dark beauty as it slowly goes flaccid.

I gently lick the cock clean of all its juices and say, "Thank you! That was wonderful!"

Three more cocks to go. Lori doesn't need to goad me on. I'm a motivated sucker. I take them one after the other and get incredible pleasure from sucking them off. I can tell how much pleasure I'm causing these cocks, too, and I guess that enhances my pleasure some. But that really isn't the point. My pleasure is only partly about the exciting feeling of

power

causing these cocks to stand at attention and explode in my mouth, pulsating with pleasure. What my pleasure is mostly about is the immediate sensations I feel having so many hard cocks piston in and out of my mouth and, finally, shoot their creamy cum onto my tongue for me to taste and savor.

"Nice job, Vicki!" Lori offers. "But you have some cum to clean up off your breasts."

I look down at my full breasts, pushed up by the lovely lavender bra. They are luscious. The smooth, white skin is accented by several dribbles of cum. I wipe these up with my finger, pushing them into my mouth, wondering which cock was responsible for which dollop of delicious cum I was now eating.

"So, now, Vicki," Lori says in a different, more business-like tone, "I think we're done here. You've sucked five beautiful hard cocks and swallowed every load. You're an unabashed cock slut and cum junkie."

I suppose I should feel embarrassed, maybe humiliated even, by those words. But I don't. I'm still basking in the afterglow of sucking these cocks. I had never realized that one could find so much satisfaction—so much sexual fulfillment—without having an orgasm oneself. But I do now. Lori's words don't matter to me.

Or, so I thought when she called me an "cock slut and cum junkie." But she goes on and what she says next fills me with pride.

"But, you're also a gorgeous woman—slender and sexy, with a body that commands the attention of every cock. You can see and feel the effect you have on cocks. And that makes you feel very powerful."

She's right, I bask in the sense of feminine power.

"This has been wonderful, Vicki, and we've all enjoyed watching you work your magic on these cocks." This makes me more aware of everyone in the room. They had sort of receded from my consciousness as I'd been sucking the cocks. But now I'm very aware of being the object of attention of this group of non-distinct people.

Lori instructs me to stand up and turn around, showing off my body to the group. Rising to stand on my stiletto heels, I have an overwhelming sense of my ravishing beauty. I wish there were a full-length mirror here to admire myself in. But I can see my image in my mind's eye. I'm stunningly beautiful, the envy of the women in the room and the object of the men's lust. I don't feel embarrassed or shy; I love showing off my body.

"Beautiful, Vicki, but all good things must come to an end. I'm going to count down from ten and, when I get to zero, you'll awaken completely. You'll look around and see things as they really are. You'll remember everything you did, every scent, every taste, every feel. And you'll be vividly aware of how much pleasure you got from sucking all of these cocks."

I can't figure out what's going on. I don't understand what this countdown is about or what she means about seeing things as they really are. What I'd just experienced felt as real as rain.

"Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven ... six ... five." I still have no idea what's going on. "Four ... three ... two ... one ... ZERO!"

Suddenly, there I was standing awkwardly on very high heels in the middle of a room full of people. They were all staring at me, some were smirking.

And, now, these weren't just indistinct people. They were my employees, all of my direct reports.

"What the hell?!" I bellowed. "What the hell's going on?!"

I looked down at myself. What I saw was not the body of a 20-something beautiful buxom woman dressed in a lace bra and panties with thigh-high stockings and high heels. Oh, the lingerie and the heels were there, but they didn't look sexy. They looked ridiculous on the body of a 50-year-old, slightly overweight man with a hairy chest and, of course, no beautiful breasts.

What had happened? I remembered everything vividly. I could still taste the cum in my mouth and the scent lingered in my nostrils. Looking down again, I could see cum was still clinging to my chest hairs. I was the one who had just sucked off five men and swallowed their cum. But when, I'd done it, I was a young woman in the throes of a sexual frenzy.

Now, I saw things as they really were. And, I was disgusted.

Part II: Realization and Reckoning

Sucking off five guys, or one for that matter, is bad enough—terrible, really. I'm a middle-aged straight man—very straight. I never experimented, never touched another guy's penis, not even as a kid, a time when lots of people engage in such play. I didn't fantasize about gay sex. Cocks didn't interest me at all. The idea of sucking one was revolting. (But I could still vividly remember how I felt just moments ago when I was sucking those cocks. It wasn't revulsion. It was a kind of ecstasy!)

I had no gay fantasies; I wasn't "bi-curious." Woke people would consider me a homophobe. I didn't hate gay people, though they made me uncomfortable. But I did hate gay sex. You know, as the Christians say (even if they don't always practice it), "Hate the sin; love the sinner." I didn't love gays, but I could tolerate them even as I condemned their conduct.

So, sucking a guy off was a horrible thing. Worse—much worse—was the fact that the guys I'd sucked off were my employees. Scanning the room, I saw five men and four women, all my direct reports at McNeeley Consulting, where I'd been the Chief Operating Officer for 5 years now.

"What the hell?!" I yelled again, standing up. "What did you do to me?"

Lori—Lori Mercer, my personal assistant—took the lead.

"Well, Mr. Simmons—or can I call you 'Vic'? I feel like our relationship is on a more intimate level now. I think I'll just call you 'Vic'." She paused for effect. I'd never allowed Lori, or any of my employees, to call me by my first name. Hierarchy is important. You need to make clear to your subordinates that you're the boss.

"Well, Vic, you see we have some grievances to take up. We've had them for a long time. We've raised them and you've ignored them, over and over again. We decided that we needed to get your attention."

What the fuck! That didn't make any sense. Yeah, I knew they had grievances. Lori was right that they'd raised them over and over again. Yada, yada, yada. Employees complain. So what? But what didn't make sense is that this torture they had put me through was a matter of getting my attention.

I think Lori realized that what she'd said didn't make sense. "I guess it was about more than getting your attention," she admitted. "We really wanted some revenge, too—revenge for all the humiliating ways you've treated us for years now."

"You got your revenge, you sick fucks. And now you're all fired!"

"Oh, really?" That was Ron, one of the men I'd just made cum in my mouth. "And how do you plan to run the company without us? You have contracts to fulfill and you can't do it without people. McNeeley won't be happy if the company defaults on those contracts," he went on, referring to Jim McNeeley, the founder and CEO of the company.

"I'll bring in temps! I'll promote other people and have them work overtime! You aren't irreplaceable. Shit, I'll work 24/7 myself! But you're all fired—every one of you sick shits!"

"Well, I don't think so." It was Lori again, speaking very calmly and exuding confidence. "That is, unless you want to be a hit on Pornhub. We've got lots of videos of you—tons of it, from all angles—showing you dressed just as you are, on your knees, and willingly—no, eagerly—sucking every guy in the room and devouring their cum with relish."

Lori turned her phone so I could see some of the video running.

God!

It was humiliating. It looked just as Lori had described it. I'd gone after every cock in the room, seemingly in sexual frenzy, unable to satisfy my lust for sucking cocks. There was no indication that I was drugged or hypnotized. It just looked like I was a middle-aged fairy pretending to be a beautiful woman and eagerly devouring cocks and cum.

Lori saw the look on my face as I watched the incriminating scenes on her phone. "So, Vic—or do you feel more comfortable with me calling you 'Vicki?—unless you want to be an overnight Internet star, we'll all see you at work on Monday morning." Her tone oozed superiority and dominance. "It will be interesting," she added. "And, I think we'll all find McNeeley Consulting to be a much less hostile workplace, won't we?"

I was trapped. If the video got out, I'd be humiliated, of course. Protest as I might, that I was drugged or hypnotized or whatever, even if someone believed me, there's no

unseeing

those images once they're seen. But my mortification wouldn't be the end of it. McNeeley was a family owned business. The family was incredibly socially conservative, especially Jim McNeeley. There's no way he would tolerate this. It would be the end of my position with the company. And where would a 50-year-old man, exposed (wrongly, but still ...) as a cocksucking fairy ever get another job.

Everyone in the room saw the defeat on my face. I was beaten. People started leaving, talking and cackling among themselves as they left. When the room was almost empty, Lori pointed to a table in the corner of the room where my clothes were placed.

"You know, Mr. Simmons, you brought this on yourself. You could have treated us like the intelligent, competent people we are. You could have kept your hands to yourself. You could have refrained from making your sexually suggestive comments, as if any of us would find you even slightly attractive. You could have listened to us and taken our concerns seriously."

"You made your choice, Mr. Simmons, and we made ours. Action and reaction. Deal with it!"

And then she, too, left the room.

Alone in the room and more miserable than I'd ever been, I kicked off the high heels, pulled off the stockings and panties and unhooked the bra. I kicked those things in the corner under the table, got dressed, and found my way out of the building.