I lost access to my old account. This is a continuation of the Bitch Boi stories.
*****
"Look at that slut," he says as I strut by. I pretend not to hear, keeping my face up. A few others cat-call as I walk. I'm wearing clear heels and a metallic blue thong. My smooth shaved skin is slick with tanning oil. I tied my bleached hair into a single braid. They're sitting ten yards away near the pool, but from that distance I'm sure they can see my plump purple lips, fake eyelashes, and heavy blue eyeshadow.
I'd call myself a slut too.
"Hey bitch, come here," he says. I know he's talking to me, and my heart drops. "Did I stutter bitch? Get that white boy ass over here."
I turn and smile. I pop out one hip to make myself look more enticing. Six black men leer at me and I can feel my cock getting hard. Part of me says to walk away, to go back to my hotel room, pack my bags, and leave the resort. I don't need to do this, I don't need to surrender my dignity, my manhood, to these people.
The one in the center gestures with a hand. He's large, like he used to work out but now let himself go. His body is covered in tattoos and he has three on his face.
"Come sit with me slut."
I walk forward, swinging my hips. The five other black men grunt and make kissing faces. There are two white bitches already with this crew; two white men like me who I have decided that sexual degradation and servitude is a far better choice then the difficulties of modern life.
"I like this one," he says, snapping my thong strap. "You like wearing small slut clothes?"
The other men have gone back to drinking and partying. There are twenty or thirty such groups arranged around the pools at this resort. The other two white bitches smirk at me and then turn back to the other men. One is smaller then me, with long brown hair. He's wearing a pink floral thong with a wider band, wedge heels, and gold body jewelry. The other has short pink hair. He's in a gold bodysuit thong, but the top has already been pulled down. He's flirting and kissing with one of the black men, and his hand has already reached towards the thigh.
"I like entertaining real men like you," I say. This is one of the standard lines they want to hear. They want to hear me say that I'm not a man, that I'm something lower, something servile, an object or toy meant to provide them with satisfaction. I'm dressed more provocatively then the other two. Maybe this was a conscious choice, maybe I left the hotel room wanting to be noticed. Maybe I want to be a vapid whore.
"Oh then you need a real man. Anyone own your ass today?"
"No," I say. I only got to the resort yesterday. Nobody has purchased my services yet. I'm still not sure I want to go through with it. I'm not sure I want to sell my self as a whore for this slightly overweight man who stares at me like a piece of meat.
He looks me up and down. "What do you cost for the day?"
I tell him and then add, "And you can tip for better service."
"Yeah I'll tip your dumb slut ass when I see you perform." He pulls out the tablet the men use for ordering food, drinks, and sluts. He finds me on the menu, and charges my services to his room. Now, for the day, I'm his property.
"Stand up and let me see that fat white ass again," he says.
I do as commanded.
"Fuck yeah, that's a good bitch," he says. He gives my left ass cheek a light slap. I stand there in a cheap thong serving as entertainment for another man. "Show me what you can do it with it, bitch. I know they train you sluts to dance."
The resort plays music, loud hip-hop and techno remixes, so I take my cue and start with a slow, rhythmic roll of my hips. My round white ass makes a circle before I bend forward slightly and make it shake.
"That's what I like to see bitch. Shake that white ass for me."
I run my manicured nails up my backside, then grip the thong straps and pull up. I look back at him while I do this. My eyes are dead behind the thick layers of makeup and fake eyelashes. He doesn't notice. My owner licks his lips and says, "good girl. Show me you want to be a good slut."
"I'm always a good slut for a real man," I say. I had three interviews with the resort owners to prove I was willing and capable to serve their clients, and then three weks of training. I know exactly how to please these men, even if my brain screams at me to stop.
I bend forward more so that my ass is extended as I start to twerk and roll my body. My black owner slaps my ass again, and I hear another one of the men call me a thirsty whore.
"Get up and dance with that bitch." One of the other black men grabs the brown haired white boy by his chain collar and thrusts him to the makeshift dance floor.
He stands next to me and starts to twerk, while the black men cheer and call us sluts. We both have our hands on our knees as we bend at the waist, twerking and twisting our hips. I drop lower into a squat and bounce my ass.
"Look at that white slut." I hear them laughing. The brown haired white bitch drops to all fours to twerk in a doggstyle position. A few of the black men lean over to slap his ass. One puts his wide hand on the white boy's head, pushes his face down, and tells him to get his ass higher. The white bitch complies, keeping his face pressed to the ground while raising his twerking ass into the air.
"Yay bitch, shake that shit for me."
I bend further forward, touching the ground with one hand while keeping my ass raised. I feel a hand on my ass and then another on my hip as I realize my owner is standing. I hear a cheer from the other men and then feel an enormous bulge pressed against my ass. There's nothing but the thin material of his shorts and a single thin strap separating his cock from my asshole.
"Come on bitch," he says. "Twerk on that dick." He emphasizes his command with a hard slap to my ass. I push my hips back and grind onto his cock. He grabs my hair and simulates the way he's going to fuck me later. All the other men watch as I'm humiliated. "Yeah Im gonna break this bitch. Little slut's gonna be ruined for the rest of you."
I keep grinding my ass against his penis, feeling it grow and thicken. Then he pulls my hair, forcing me to stand straight with my white thong clad ass pressed into his groin. "Who's bitch are you?" he asks.
"I'm your bitch, sir."
"You gonna put on a show for me and the boys?"
"Whatever you tell me to do."
He grabs my ass cheek so that his fingers are pressed against the hole. "That's what I wanted to hear slut. Now go dance for my friends." He gives my ass a hard slap and sends me around the table.
I go to each man in turn, debasing myself for their amusement, grinding against their thick bulges, moaning in their ears, declaring through my sexualized actions that I had surrendered my manhood in service of their pleasure.
"Start licking my neck, white whore." I'm straddling one of the men, gripping my heels as I bounced my bubble butt on the thick cock I feel beneath his shorts. I lean forward, stick out my pierced tongue, and lick the sweat from his collarbone to his lower ear.
"Hey. Send that slut back to me. I paid for the bitch. Y'all over there enjoying the goods."
I stand up. The man I'm currently entertaining pulls at the thong strap running between my cheeks. He snaps the strap against my asshole and then slaps my ass, telling me I've been a good whore.
"Did you miss daddy?" says my owner.
"Yes, sir."
He grabs his crotch and adjusts the monster. I can see it bulging against his shorts, a clear outline pushing against the fabric.
"Get down and tell my dick how much you missed it."