Just a few weeks ago I was Billy, an 18-year-old boy, a member of the high school swim team, a boy who liked girls.
But now I was Wendy, and I thought about only one thing:
Jim.
Jim had seduced me with his quiet, 45-year-old confidence, his huge, powerful body and his enormous cock. He was a blackmailing bastard who threatened to show my parents pictures of me having sex with him. He forced me to perform sex acts with him in front of other men. They had watched him pummel my little round ass with his thick, hairy cock. They watched my untouched cock gush cum all over someone's expensive desk as I thrilled to each invasive thrust.
After that episode, he truly owned me, He called me "Wendy," the name of my ex-girlfriend, and I didn't care. In fact, it made me hard. I spent every moment wondering when we would meet again.
I didn't have to wait too long.
Jim called one night and summoned me to a suite at a fancy downtown hotel. It was a Wednesday night. A school night. I had a history test the next morning and I had yet to study for it.
But I had to have Jim's cock. So I made up some fake story about studying with a friend, took my mother's car and drove to the hotel. I went to the suite. He was there to greet me at the door, in a dark business suit, his hair still wet from the shower. His greeting was less than cordial.
"Where the fuck have you been?" he asked.
"I came as fast as I could," I said, taken aback.
"You'll find your outfit in the bedroom," he said. "I have to leave. The guests will be here in a few minutes. Entertain them for me. They're coming to see you. So fix them drinks. Give them lap dances. Let them feel you up. Suck their dicks. But don't let them suck you, fuck you or jack you off. Is that understood?"
I nodded, and he left.
On the bed in the bedroom, I found a pair of white knee socks, a lacy pair of white bikini panties, and one of Jim's mongrammed dress shirts. Though I should have been humiliated I put it all on. The shirt, of course, was way too big for me. I wore it like a girl who had just had sex with a man, sleeves rolled up a bit, and unbuttoned so the guests would see my washboard abs, my panties and my knee socks. Lust had destroyed my sense of shame.
I also found two pills on the bed. I knew from our last tryst that one was an amphetimine and the other a Viagra. Like a good girl, I took them. Then I waited for the guests.
An hour passed. It was now 11 p.m. Jim wasn't back, and the guests had not arrived. My head was wired from the speed, and my cock was stiff from the Viagra.
Then I heard the knock at the door.
I ushered in the same three middle aged men who had watched me get fucked in that office a few nights before. They leered at me as they entered, all wearing business suits.
They sat down and barked out orders for their drinks. As I threw ice in their glasses and filled the glasses with scotch or bourbon, I could hear them behind me, whispering and laughing. I know I blushed as I carried their drinks to them on a tray.
As they sat and drank, I walked from man to man, straddling their laps and wiggling my panty-clad bottom over the cocks I could feel stiffening in their pants. I enjoyed their lusty groans, feeling their cocks between my cheeks, knowing all this could only go so far.
My cock was clearly hard in my panties, and one of the men asked to see it. so I stood up. Like a stripper, I slowly pulled down my panties, stepped out of them, and displayed to each man my hairless cock stiffly arching toward the ceiling. I felt the hem of the shirt tickling my firm round bottom. I was a dirty little slut, and, to be honest, I loved it.
The oldest of the three stepped up to me and kissed me on the mouth. As he held me, I felt the other men slide their hands over my ass and stomach. Someone started to lick my cock, but I jumped back and told them Jim wouldn't allow it.
The oldest man broke his kiss and pushed me down by my shoulders.
"Jim will allow this," he said.
The man unzipped his pants and, inches from my face, his hard cock sprang forward, pointing at my mouth.
"Suck me, Wendy," he commanded as the others jeered.
That was only the second cock I had ever sucked, but Jim had taught me well. In a few minutes the man was rocking his hips and holding my head to his groin. The tip of his cock kept sliding against the back of my throat. I could feel him getting harder with every thrust.
"Swallow my sperm, bitch!" he cried as his throbbing cock gushed in my mouth. I was a good girl and gulped it all down. I even licked his shaft afterwards.
The other two men then insisted on the same treatment. I obeyed. The three of them stood around me and called me a sweet little cocksucker. I took each cock like a prize, noting the prominent wedding ring on each man's left hand. I stared into each man's face as I swallowed their salty sperm.
After the last of them had filled my mouth, they zipped their pants up and pulled me to my feet.
"Put your panties back on, and come with us."
I slid the panties on and followed the three back into the bedroom. I heard a clinking sound. They pulled off my shirt and handcuffed my hands behind my back.
"You're not supposed to fuck me," I cried. "I'm not supposed to cum!"
"Shut the fuck up, you little queer," one said. "We know what we're doing."
In fact, these men did not make me cum or fuck me. But they tortured me so much I could only wish I was getting fucked.
They ran their big hands all over my body. They caressed my balls. They pinched my nipples. They licked my thighs. Someone squirted a whole tube of KY jelly up my rectum, and they laughed as some of it oozed out and made my bottom slick inside my panties. My cock was now pressing hard against the front of those panties. The tip had poked out above the waistband. I was panting with desire. My cock wanted to explode.
Even though Jim had warned me not to, I begged them to fuck me, but that only made them tease me more. Finally, one of them stuffed a ball gag in my mouth. I groaned into it, desperate for release, as they left me alone in the room. I heard the suite door close again. It was long after midnight. My parents would kill me when I got home. I would surely flunk that History test, but all I wanted was for Jim to finish me off with his magnificent cock.
Then I heard the door open. My heart lept up as I heard Jim come in, but someone was with him. I heard them fixing drinks. I heard a woman's voice. I recognized the giggle.
Jesus! My old girlfriend Wendy was here!
I was so ashamed. The last thing I wanted was for her to see me like this -- chained to a bed in panties and knee socks, my cock as hard as a rock, but those men had positioned me so I couldn't move, and try as I would, my hard cock just wouldn't get soft.
"So, Jim," I heard her say. "Where's the bedroom? I need you right now."
"I say when we fuck, bitch," I heard Jim say. "Any way, little girl, I have a couple of surprises for you. The first is in the bedroom."
The door opened. I tried to look away. She laughed and pointed at me.
"Oh My God, Jim," she said. "It's Billy!"
She walked up to me and peeled down my panties to expose my hard cock.
"God, Billy, why didn't you ever get that hard for me?" She let go of the waistband and let it slap painfully against the head of my cock.
Jim walked in behind her.
"Because he likes being a girl," he said, "He likes wearing panties and knee socks, and he likes being fucked by men. That's why I call him Wendy."
He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. I was reminded why she had appealed to me. Her tits were so big and round, filling that "Elle" tee-shirt she liked to wear. Her slim waist with the ring in her pierced belly. Her hip hugger jeans showing off her sweet round bottom.
"Billy here-- I mean Wendy-- is probably wondering how we met," Jim said, as he slid his hands over her belly and cradled her tits through her tee shirt.
