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Conned by Throne
🕑 Added 2024-12-23 18:05:15 +0000 UTCCONNED!
By THRONE
© 2019-2050 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
**DEVIN DICKIE NOTE**
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.
Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.
CONNED!
By THRONE
Kenny couldn't believe it. He had gone to work for Indigo Inc several months ago. His sexy wife Tyra had been thrilled. Then he had detected some illegal practices recently used by the corporation. He was already uneasy, being one of the few white employees in the Black-owned company. But he felt that he had to speak up. He talked to the CEO, Mr. Johnson, who assured him it would be taken care of. It came as a total shock when he found himself framed for those misdeeds and railroaded into prison. The lawyer who Johnson had provided for him switched to a guilty plea after offering almost no defense. Now Kenny was about to begin his six-month sentence. He was in prison garb, being led along by a towering Black guard.
"I shouldn't be here," Kenny said. He was short and slender, his long hair falling into his large expressive eyes.
"Ain't never heard that line before," the guard grunted at him.
They entered the cellblock. Prisoners on either side stood there, gripping the bars, checking out the new convict. They were not shy about making comments.
"Whoa. Women's wing must be overcrowded. They putting a girl in here with us."
"She so small, maybe they figured the dykes would beat up on her."
"Hey, that ain't no bitch. Least ways, not a girl-bitch." "Holy crud. We got us a new boy-bitch to play with."
He cowered under their threatening words. Was it really the truth about the sexual abuse that went on in penitentiaries? Before his brief trial, while out on bail, he had done some online research. What he learned was that those stories were often true, especially in this place, which was notorious for being corrupt. Now, he was hustled along with catcalls and taunts burning his ears. When they reached his cell, he was relieved to see that it was vacant. There were some nude pictures of busty white women stuck to the back wall. They reminded him of Tyra, who he already missed so much. The cell was opened remotely and he was shoved inside by rough hands.
The guard told him, "Welcome to your new life, boy."
"I'm only here for six months," Kenny said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
"They told me about you. Them months is going to be like years."
As the big man turned and strode away, Kenny shuddered. What exactly had that meant? He sat on the edge of the lower bunk with his hands clasped between his knees, and was soon lost in thought, mostly feeling sorry for himself. He was still wrestling
with the idea that he had been framed. His wife had said she would talk to Mr. Johnson and see if he could do anything to reverse this miscarriage of justice.
Kenny was startled out of his musing when the bars rolled back again. Standing in the corridor was a tall muscular Black convict.
He bellowed, "What the fuck you doing on my bunk, chump?"
From the cells facing them, came laughter and hollering. "Go get him, B-Man."
"Whip his white ass."
Kenny sprang to his feet, hitting his head on the underside of the top bunk. "I'm sorry. I thought I was going to be by myself."
"That's not how it works, boy. You now in my space. I'm B-Man, which means Boss Man, which means you're my property."
"Well, I'm sure we could work out some equitable arrangement and..."
That was as far as the new arrival got before Boss rushed at him and slapped his face on both sides. "Don't give me no backtalk. You got to learn your place. Start off by stripping. NOW!"
They were so close together that the frightened young man could smell the perspiration of his aggressive cellmate. With Boss glaring down at him, Kenny uncertainly began to unbutton his shirt. He got out of that and removed his shoes. When he tried to
negotiate, it led to a verbal threat directed at his testicles. That chilled him to the core. He removed his uniform pants and stood there in his powder-blue jockey shorts. Boss critically eyed his crotch.
"Did you leave your dick on the outside when they sent you here, boy?"
"What? No. I mean, um... err..."
"Let's see what you got down there. Lose the underwear."
In a quandary of fear and confusion, Kenny did as he was told. He stood there in the nude. Boss unbuttoned his own fly and pulled out a cock that put Kenny's laughably small endowment to shame.
"You see what I got?" Boss demanded.
"I... do?"
"You don't sound sure. Maybe you need a close-up look."
He clamped his big hands onto Kenny's shoulders and squeezed so hard that it hurt. Effortlessly, he forced the newcomer down onto his knees. That left Kenny at eye level with the male member that was like a kingsize summer sausage. Boss grabbed the young man's abundant and unruly hair, to yank him forward. Suddenly, Kenny's nose and mouth were against the gamey smelling organ. He tried to pull back but it wasn't permitted. The Black giant rubbed Kenny's features against his massive tool. When he finally allowed him to lean back, all that contact had gotten Boss hard.
"See what you done? Got me standing up like one of the guard's nightsticks. The rule is, you get it up, you got to make it go back down. How you gonna do that?"
"We could just wait for your erection to subside naturally," the kneeling figure offered.
"Like hell we could. That'd leave me with sore balls. You want me to have sore balls? Do you?"
"No. No, Sir."
"For starters, you can kiss them to apologize." "Apologize for what?"
That earned Kenny a fist-thump to the top of his head. Then there were two more, to his ears. He saw the hopelessness of resisting further, at that moment. Bracing himself mentally, he puckered up and closed his eyes.
"Don't shut them eyes," Boss barked. "You got to see what you doing."
Kenny leaned in to place his lips against the waiting scrotum. Its scent grew stronger. He tasted the salty tang of sweat.
Boss went on, "Now give it some licking. Make me believe you like it, if you don't want to get your brains rattled again."
With a sob, the dizzy young man lapped those heavy balls. After he had done it for several long minutes, Boss took him by the ears and twisted them. Kenny's mouth flew open. Boss's aim was right on target, as he thrust the end of his cock between the naked one's lips.
"Don't let me feel no teeth, or you gonna lose them. Understand?"
With his mouth full, Kenny managed to grunt his agreement. On instructions from his tormentor, he began to suck the fat knob. Then he had to swirl his tongue around it. He was required to take in a few more inches. His jaws were stretched to their limits. He choked on the invading meat.
"We gone get you past that gagging," Boss informed him. "Give you plenty of practice. Now that I see what a sissy you are, Imma expect you'll be hungry for my cream all the time. Put you on a steady diet of it. Since you can't swallow more of my rod, use your hands on there. Get to stroking. Make me bust my nut."
Kenny gazed up at him with wide eyes. Boss's face was a mask of ferocity. With no choice, the naked guy used both hands to grip and pump that thick shaft. He was told to do it slowly, and make it last a long time. He bobbed his head at the same time that he rhythmically massaged, establishing a steady unhurried tempo. Boss nodded. The hard floor hurt Kenny's knees. He struggled to breath evenly through his nostrils. The man who was being fellated murmured as the blowjob went on and on. Kenny had to take that cock out of his mouth, but only so he could lap it all over and get it wet for when the handling resumed.
"We getting close to the big finish," Boss informed him, with his breathing deepening. "Get ready for your first meal of dick-sauce."
As much as he dreaded what was about to happen, Kenny continued his oral and manual efforts. The Black man grunted, seized Kenny's head again, and spurted out gob after gob of his thick spunk. His unwilling partner struggled to gulp it all down but was only partly successful. It was squeezed out around his stretched lips. Warmth oozed down his chin and dripped onto his bare chest. He began to shed hot tears, which added to the mess. After Boss at last withdrew, he wiped himself clean in Kenny's hair.
Sneering down at his victim, he decided, "You such a pussy that from now on your name is Kitty. I don't never want to hear your boy name. Understood?"
"Um... yes, Sir."
Boss took a loose cigarette out of his shirt pocket, found matches, and lit it. He blew smoke at Kenny.
"I'm taking a nap now. Want to know where you being, so get yourself under the covers." He got on his bunk alongside Kenny and turned on his side, then pulled down his pants. "Get your face all up in the crack of my ass, Kitty, so I can tell you ain't wandering around none. Then pull that blanket up over us. You need to get used to my smell, to help you remember who owns you. Move it!"
With his head spinning, the naked prey, behind Boss, slid down until his face was in front of that muscular ass. Feeling nauseated, he put his nose between the solid buttocks.
"Not like that, stupid," Boss corrected. "Get way in deep. Let me feel your kisser against my butthole."
With a whimper, Kenny shoved his face in further. He couldn't believe he was doing it as he felt around with his lips until he found that target. He pressed his closed mouth against the tight aperture.
"Now give it some wet kisses," Boss commanded sleepily. "I'm taking a nap and you're staying right there until I wake up."
Trying not to begin crying again, Kenny osculated the orifice, moistening it with his tongue. After a half dozen of the unwanted contacts, he risked stopping. The sickening flavor was still thick on his taster. With an effort, he tried to maintain his sense of who he was. If he lost touch with that, he didn't know what might happen. Boss's breathing slowed. He had drifted into sleep. Kenny was too scared to withdraw from his narrow mask of flesh. Those sweaty cheeks hugged his face. The stench of Boss's asshole invaded his nostrils and filled his head. His senses were overwhelmed. Unable to see, he fell into a trance of silent acceptance, driven by his will to survive. As demeaning as the assault on his male self-image had been, he remained determined to hold onto his ego. He reminded himself that Tyra was in the outside world, waiting for him, speaking with Mr. Johnson on his behalf. She would be his savior, his guardian angel.
*********
As Kenny was clinging to that hope, his wife had just entered the offices of Indigo Inc. She went to the reception desk, behind which sat an attractive young Black woman, whose nameplate identified her as Aisha.
"How may I help you?" Aisha inquired politely.
"I'm here to see Mr. Johnson." She gave her name. "I have an appointment."
The girl scanned Tyra up and down. The wife was fine, with her long blond hair, sparkling azure eyes, and full lips. Most impressive was her curvy figure, heavy in the tits department, with everything shown off in a clingy dress of electric blue.
Aisha consulted her computer screen. "He's expecting you. His office is at the far end of the work floor."
"Thank you," Tyra said, before passing through the open door that put her among the desks of the employees. All of them were Black men in their 20s. They made little effort to conceal their interest as she walked among them, on her way to the big office on the far side. Her high heels clicked and her desirable protruding ass rolled. She reached the office door and it swung inward with perfect timing. On the other side was a tall Black man in an imported suit, with the jacket unbuttoned.
He smiled down at her. "Aisha said you were here. Please come in and have a seat." He closed the door behind her. There were
windows facing the workers, but the glass was frosted, affording him privacy. "You're Kenny's wife."
"Yes. I'm hoping you can help him. There seems to have been some misunderstanding about his involvement in the misconduct that occurred."
He sat behind his large desk and fixed his dark eyes on her. "I'll be happy to try but first I have to ask what a fox like you is doing with a dweeb like him. I'm guessing that you were used to wild guys and figured you needed someone stable to settle down with."
"Sort of," she admitted, impressed with his perception.
"And I've been next to him at the urinals, so I know he doesn't have anything to offer below the waist. Bet you're missing the studs you used to bed down with."
"But I'm married now." Her coy smile contradicted those words.
"I'm also thinking that you're overdue for partying with some real cock."
Tyra blushed prettily. She licked her lips. Her husband's boss stood up, came around the desk, and put his hand on her shoulder. She set hers atop his.
"You know," she said wistfully, "I do miss those old days."
"Truth. If your man stayed inside and I continued paying out his salary, how would that work for you?"
"I'd consider it." She locked eyes with him. "Is there more?"
He bent over to gently kiss her. Old reflexes took over as she put her hand between his legs. Tyra liked the massive bulge she felt there. It was making her sex moist. Mr. Johnson's second kiss was more forceful than the first.
"There's some more details about your Kenny for us to discuss. Right now, however, you've got the fever and I've got your cure."
"Do it," she said in a breathy voice. "Make me feel whole again." *********
After Boss had his nap, he let Kenny out from under the cover. The smaller man was disoriented. Having his face trapped in that sculpted ass had done something to his mind. Before he could recover, the bell rang for lunch. When their cell door opened, he reached for his discarded clothes.
"Yo!" snapped Boss. "You some kind of slow learner? I'm the man in here and what I say is law. Right now, I'm saying that you go to the mess hall just like you are, Kitty."
"But I'm... I can't..."
The Black man grabbed his plaything by the back of the neck and applied pressure. Kenny got the message. He allowed himself to be walked out of the cell and put into the orderly line of men who all had the same destination. Boss released him and he kept
moving. When they reached the dining area, they got into the row of those waiting for food. Several of them greeted Boss with obvious respect. There were exchanged remarks about various deals in progress. All of them hungrily considered the new sissy.
As they moved forward, Boss asked Kenny if he liked each item that was offered. The ones he didn't want, he got double servings of. The men ladling out the offerings were happy to follow Boss's orders. The few things that Kenny preferred were given in half portions, and buried under the unwanted ones. There were beets all over everything. He hated beets.
They sat at a table that was occupied by tough Black guys. A few of them had white boys meekly accompanying them. Kenny was disturbed to see that the latter diners had been feminized to various degrees, with the sleeves cut off of their prison pants and shirts, their hair allowed to grow long, their eyelids and lips tinted with what appeared to be some substitute for real cosmetics. They were visibly deferential to the Black men who they accompanied.
Boss told his charge, "I want your plate clean, and don't take forever to do it, girl."
Kenny didn't like being addressed with that female designation. He ate steadily, anxious to prevent angering Boss. He felt queasy from the quantity and choices of food he consumed. There was no way to avoid having his cheeks full of food.
A fat guy sitting across from his snarled, "You making fun of my face, Kitten?"
The troubled prisoner turned to Boss, expecting to be defended. Instead, the con told him, "You can't disrespect my brother like that. Time for you to show him you're sorry. Get under the table and do for him like you did to my piece, wiff that busy mouth of yours."
Everyone was watching Kenny. He understood that if he showed any sign of refusing, it would reflect poorly on Boss, and lead to nasty discipline. The wretched newbie slid off his chair. Under the table, he could see the one he had unintentionally offended freeing his cock. It was shorter than Boss's but thicker. Kenny crawled forward and began to roll it between both hands. All too soon it was rock hard. He capped the end with his mouth and sucked hard, before bobbing on it a few times, while simultaneously massaging the con's balls. His main thought was to please Boss, in an effort to avoid retribution. He remembered all the techniques he had used on his cellmate.
The man he was sucking told him, "Make like it's a candy stick."
Kenny slurped it all over, using lots of spit. His stomach roiled from the combination of two forms of overeating. He put it back into his mouth, with his lips stretched to the max. The new arrival made choking sounds. His ordeal went on and on. Finally, the guy he was serving snorted, bumped his thighs against his oralist, and blasted out his generous load. Kenny gagged it down as best he could, though some still ended up on his lips and chin. Boss ordered his nude cellmate back to his seat. Every man at the table ogled him, plainly wanting a share of what he had just given.
Boss told them, "Kitty's mouth will be available real soon, after I finish turning her. It'll be half a pack of cigarettes for her to go down on you."
"How about that cute pink ass she was wagging in line?"
"For right now, that's all mine," asserted Boss. "If she don't behave and treat her Daddy right, I'm gonna throw her to all you dogs, and you can gangbang her for all I'll care."
That deepened Kenny's conviction that he must always cater to his owner and never disappoint him. He pressed his lips together and gazed at Boss worshipfully.
As soon as they were back in their cell, a guard appeared. He told Boss, "The Warden wants to see your new Miss Thing," while ignoring Kenny.
With his voice barely audible, Kenny asked, "Should I get dressed, Daddy?"
"No time for that. Can't keep the big man waiting."
Kenny found himself being prodded along the corridor by the guard's nightstick, which jabbed him between his soft bottom-cheeks. When they got to the office, the Black man-in-charge sat imperiously behind his oversized desk.
"I hear you worked for Indigo, Inc." he began without preamble. "They're friends of me and this facility. Having you mess with them puts you at the bottom of my list, and that's where you don't
want to be. The good news is that B-Man is a top dog around here. He'll keep an eye on you and make sure that you do right."
"Thank you, Sir," Kenny said, sounding like his former junior executive self. He stepped up to the desk and put his hands on it. "If I could just talk to you about my case and the undeniable problems with the verdict..."
The Warden shot to his feet and slapped the desk loudly. "Guard. This prisoner attempted to assault me. Put him in chains."
"I didn't... I never meant to..."
Before the naked figure could say more, he was put into a punishing chokehold. The guard kicked his feet out from under him and got him on his knees. He yelled at Kenny not to rise. From a cabinet, he took several lengths of chain, fitted with cuffs. The first joined Kenny's wrists in front of him. The second held his ankles together with a short length. Then he was stood up. A small ring was locked around his scrotum. When the chain attached to it was yanked toward the floor, he yelped in pain. The chain was then joined to his hobbler. When it was adjusted, his testicles were pulled cruelly downward and held like that. To relieve the pressure on them, he curled his shoulders and bent forward.
The guard slapped Kenny's ass. "Stand up straight in front of the Warden, you useless piece of garbage."
Kenny did it, despite how it hurt his balls. He was made to circle the office, which let him know that every step would be
uncomfortable. When he went behind the desk, the Warden examined the chains, which somehow involved putting his hands all over Kenny. The bound convict flinched at his touch but tried to not let his revulsion show. With words of warning, he was dismissed and taken back to his cell. It was a terrible walk of shame to be not only nude, but in chains, with his scrotum stretched. He shuffled along, his bonds clinking.
The guard told Boss, "This one tried to jump the Warden. You better teach him some manners."
"Damn straight I will," the frightening man said with resolve. "Daddy is gonna take him to school."
Kenny tried to plead with his eyes but had enough sense not to open his mouth. Boss grabbed a handful of his hair and steered him to the lower bunk. Kenny ended up bent over with his hands on the thin mattress. The ring still tormented his nuggets.
"What I need to do to you," Boss declared, "is pop your cherry. That'll help you remember not to act up with the Warden, and get you started on being my butt-boy, girl."
He pawed Kenny's vulnerable nether cheeks. Gripping his ass, with his thumbs toward the center, he spread those tender cushions. Kenny whimpered. He glanced back to see that Boss had dropped his pants. Then the horny stud rubbed against the object of his intentions. Kenny could feel that girthy organ swelling. It got rubbed up and down his crack. Boss reached under to roll those already abused balls roughly against each other, and was rewarded with moans of suffering. He spit on his
fingers and rubbed them over the bullseye. The rounded end of his organ pressed against the clenched entrance.
"Please," Kenny wailed, ignoring his common sense. "You're too big. Just let me suck you again."
The answer to that was an underhanded slap from Boss, right on Kenny's testicles. He said that if he did enough of that, they might be permanently damaged, even disabled. What would that mean when Kenny was released and went back to Tyra? His sex life would be eliminated. He clenched his fists impotently.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to mouth off like that. I deserve whatever you need to do to me."
It was madness for him to apologize to the man who was about to take his bunghole. Like a practiced pimp, Boss was making his latest pussy-boy become dependent on him. With enough time, he could alter a mind irreversibly. Kenny was his for the next half a year. It had never taken that long for Boss to break and remake anyone.
"Ask for it," Boss insisted. "What?"
"Tell me you want it, Kitty. Make me believe that you want me to take your squishy white ass with my rigid Black tool. Ask me to give you the ebony into ivory treatment."
Losing the last of his control, Kenny began to cry like the sissy he was becoming. The guys in the facing cells loved what they were hearing and seeing. Boss was an artist who reshaped personalities like they were malleable clay.
"I can't hear you," Boss told him. "Okay. I... um... want you to violate me."
"That don't sound sincere. Make me believe it or Imma gone hurt you, girl." He tugged on the ball bondage to emphasize his point.
"OW! All right." Kenny took a steadying breath. He made his voice seductive. "Oh, Daddy, I want it so bad. You know what a total sissy I am. I need your big Black cock inside me, all the way. I want you to pump your Kitty hard." A quaver entered his voice. "The only thing better than having you in my mouth will be making you cum inside my tail end." His false provocations suddenly failed him, and were replaced by blubbering.
Intuitively knowing that Kenny had reached his absolute nadir, that was when Boss drove the knob of his cock through the tight ring. He paused to let Kenny experience the unique sensations of having his donut hole penetrated by a domineering Black man's monster cock. There was excruciating pain, but also the awakening of countless nerve endings. Somehow the two sensations combined and triggered the recipient's libido. His little pecker got stiff. The Black man eased in further, kept going. He made every inch count, pausing between advances, until he was eventually buried up to his heavy balls. He sighed and took a moment to savor the tightness of a virgin hole.
Boss proclaimed, "Gonna ride you hard, Kitty Cat."
In one rapid motion, he withdrew almost all the way, hesitated only a second, and then plunged back in to the hilt. After that he was like a machine, hammering away, reaming Kenny. The rump ravishment made Kenny squeal nonstop. At the same time, he was aware that he was reacting with unwanted excitement. Why was he so hard from being violated? The two types of responses kept mounting, as if racing each other to see which would dominate. Kenny shoved his hips back at Boss.
The Black stallion said, "I know what that is, baby. You pushing when I'm poking. That means you want what I'm giving you. Don't it?"
"Noooo," Kenny bleated.
"Yessss," Boss hissed into his ear. He reached underneath to give the bottom-boy's dick a pinch, just to show that he knew it was stiff. "Time to make you a full-fledged sissy-bitch. Once you and me shoot our shots, where my cock is will be your boi-pussy from then on, forever."
The big man's hips rolled as he jammed. The shift in approach
might have made him touch Kenny's prostate. Or not. He had already put the idea into the other's head that to ejaculate while being plugged would seal his fate, make him a complete fag with no way to deny it. The proof would be in the semen.
"Let's do it together," Boss said, his voice thick.
It took a half dozen more stokes, all of them short and violent. He spurted into Kenny's bowels. At the same moment, Kenny made a high keening sound and spunked onto the floor, his load so much smaller than what Boss had produced. He was branded as less than a real man, in his own mind, a label that he wouldn't be able to convince himself was false. And then he had to lick up his own cream.
*********
"So, now we understand each other," Mr. Johnson said.
Lying next to him on the bed, in his country home, Tyra exhaled slowly. "Absolutely, lover. The sex was incredible and everything you have planned to break down my useless husband is fine with me. Just thinking about how wrecked he's going to be gets me hot, after everything you're going to do."
He chuckled. "You mean, what WE'RE going to do, together. Seeing how I've taken you away from him will break anything that's left of his spirit."
"But let's not rush it. I want to see him squirm. He owes me for all the bad sex I've had with his junior-league pecker. From now on, all I want is that giant cock of yours."
*********
The days and nights in prison were never-ending torment for Kenny. Though the chains came off, the ring remained around
the top of his scrotum. Often a leash was attached to it, with which Boss would lead him. He wasn't kept naked all the time, but that might have been preferable to what he had to wear. His new wardrobe consisted of belly shirts and miniskirts, plus panties, along with knee socks and Mary Jane shoes. Those items must have been allowed into the prison by the corrupt officials and their equally unlawful underlings. That was confirmed in Kenny's mind by the number of blowjobs he had to give to guards. They would stand outside the cell, free their cocks, and position themselves with the waiting organs between the bars. Boss's suck-boy had to crawl to them and give head. Many times, his leash would be on and he would have to hand it to them. Whenever they wanted to hurt him, they simply had to give it a sharp pull. He knew better than to let his jaws tighten reflexively at those moments. Boss told him right in the beginning that the prison dentist, himself a convict, would be only too happy to remove his teeth, offending ones and all others.
"You know what'd be funny?" Boss asked rhetorically. "If everybody tugging on your ball-ring and the dentist yanking out your choppers, left you a toothless eunuch. I know the guys would line up to get gummed by you then."
Every aspect of his life was regulated. He couldn't even use their primitive toilet without permission from his cellmate. Boss thought it was funny to make Kenny wait for hours with a full bladder. One time, to demonstrate the extent of his powers, he made his submissive hold it so long that he eventually wet his panties. Then Boss ordered him to lick up the urine, and sleep on the floor with his damp lingerie over his head. Kenny woke up with a mild case of diaper rash on his face. Boss told their
tablemates in the dining room why Kenny's features were so red and bumpy.
There was an unwelcome return visit to the Warden's office. The big man left Kenny standing in front of his desk, in his girly garb, for half an hour while he talked on the phone and worked on his computer. A guard sat comfortably in a chair behind the sissy. Kenny wore no panties at the time, and the ball-leash ran from under his abbreviated skirt to the seated man's hand. At last, the Warden looked up, as if realizing for the first time that someone was there with him.
"Oh, it's you," he said with mild disgust. "Hear you've been sucking every cock in sight. And I can see that you like playing dress-up to catch the men's eyes. Right?"
Kenny wanted to deny that last part but decided that caution was the better approach. He said in a hushed voice, "Yes, Sir." He remembered the explanation that his cellmate had been stressing. "Boss Man has helped me get in touch with my real self."
"I figured that," the Warden said. "You need to appreciate what he's doing for you."
"I do, Sir," he lied.
"With that in mind, we're going to do something else along those lines."
Kenny went cold inside. "Sir?"
"There's this new program that'll give you a pretty wig and some cosmetics. All that crap that queers like you want." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And those shots your kind is always begging for."
With a lump in his throat, Kenny asked, "Do you mean hormones?"
"Whatever." The Warden waved his hand dismissively. "You can go."
"But Sir," Kenny whimpered. "I don't need those. I'm not really..."
The guard wrenched on his leash, hard enough that Kenny choked on pain and was silenced. The uniformed man said, "Warden told you we're done here. Back to your cell, bitch. I'm sure Boss is ready for his midday suck-off."
Hours later, Kenny's wig and make-up kit arrived. It turned out they had been paid for by a tranny support group, which was ironic in his mind, because he wasn't naturally inclined that way. Or was he? His certainty on that matter was being worn down, day by day. They sent another con along with those supplies. He was a young Latino guy, short and slim, with his shirttails knotted in front and his pants cut off and resewn, to turn them into pedal-pushers. His hair fell to his collar. He introduced himself as Mizzy
"I hope you don't mind that I borrowed just a smidgen of your goodies," he lisped, gesturing with a limp-wristed hand, toward
his own face, onto which mascara and lip gloss had plainly been applied.
"That's fine," Boss said, not letting Kenny answer the question. "Just make sure you do a good job on my princess, if you don't want to get your ass kicked."
The guy acted swoony, as if he might enjoy some abuse from the big Black man. Even though Kenny was halfway to being turned into a duplicate of him, Kenny found him sickening.
Boss said, "Sit on the crapper, Kitty, so your sissy sister can do your face."
"Yes, Sir."
The make-up artist said, "Ohhh. We're Mizzy and Kitty. Perfect together. Though my preferred type is more macho," he finished, with a meaningful glance at Boss.
Then he went to work on Kenny's face, with generous amounts of eye-shade, liner, blush, and lipstick. He admired his work and then fitted the wig over his subject's scalp. It was a blond bob.
Boss insisted, "I don't want that fake hair coming off."
Mizzy showed some concern when he said, "I have glue that I can use, but it takes forever to wear off. And I'd have to get rid of his real hair."
"That's fine," he was told. "Just do it."
Kenny's chin quivered as the wig was taken off. He had to stay still while his locks were eliminated, leaving his scalp bare. The inside of the wig was liberally spread with the adhesive, and snugged over his bald dome. Missy had a hand mirror. When he held it up, Kenny was unsettled by his reflection. He barely recognized himself after the transformation. Boss said that the cosmetics applier should leave everything there, so Kenny could keep his face made up.
Boss went on, "He still don't understand that he's a faggot. Suck his little dick, Mizzy."
"Oh my," the visiting sissy said. "I mean, I'll do it, but I'd rather have something bigger to work on."
"Shut your mouth and get started."
"If I shut my mouth," MIzzy pointed out, "there's no way I can get started."
Boss chortled at that. With Kenny still seated on the john, the dusky-complexioned guest knelt at his feet. He toyed with the immature genitals in front of him. Though he didn't want it to happen, the seated prisoner got hard. Mizzy reached up and slid his hands under the brief top. His fingers found the covered nipples and diddled them. Kenny moaned. Mizzy got his mouth over the stiff dick, which was easy for him to accommodate. He sucked hard, while playfully wagging his head side to side.
The Black man asked Kenny, "You still think you're not queer? That sissy sucking you off and you're loving it. Go on. Tell him not to stop. Say you want to finish in his soft wet mouth."
Kenny whimpered. This was taking him to new depths of shame. Even so, he said in a strained whisper, "Please don't stop, Mizzy. I want you to keep going. Your mouth feels so good on my dick."
Boss corrected, "Little dick. Say it that way."
Kenny amended, "I love what you're doing to my little dick. Your mouth is so soft and your tongue is so... agile."
Mizzy hummed, offering his reluctant partner new sensations. It had been so long since Kenny ejaculated. Next, the swarthy sissy took that penis in, up to its root, and worked his jaws, so that his tongue and the sides of his mouth massaged it. That was too much for Kenny. With a pathetic cry of defeat, he surrendered the contents of his balls, to have it eagerly swallowed.
Boss said, "Yo, Mizzy. Now give him a big sloppy kiss."
The sissy got up, took Kenny's face between his hands, and locked lips with him. The messy kiss was stretched out, with both participants moaning, though for different reasons. At last, Mizzy broke it off. He fussed with the hair of the wig, and then stepped away to once more appreciate his handiwork. Kenny was having trouble recovering from what had just happened. He had just had sex with that pansy, oral sex, and at some level enjoyed it. Denying that he was what Boss kept calling him would be even
more difficult after that. Thank goodness Tyra wasn't aware of any of it.
*********
"Got some pictures you need to see," Mr. Johnson said to Tyra as she snuggled up against him on his sectional sofa.
"Oh? Dirty ones?"
"Yeah, but maybe not the kind you're thinking of. Turns out that your husband isn't just a wimp. He's a prison punk."
"What?"
"Once he found out that he was locked up with a lot of big Black cocks, he got all faggy and started sucking them."
The first photo, surreptitiously taken by one of the guards, showed Kenny kneeling in front of Boss and hugging the big man's bare legs. A huge cock was dangling between them. In the next one, that manly meat was standing up and Kenny was ogling it. Then there were several of him with his mouth all over it, around it, taking half of its considerable length.
"Holy crap!" Tyra exclaimed. "You're telling me Kenny was a fag all along, Royal?" She found her lover's first name fit him well, especially considering the royal scepter she was now addicted to.
"Not exactly." Johnson laughed. "He hates what his cellmate is making him do. At the same time, it's starting to turn him into what you see there."
He gave her a kiss, which she returned fervidly. It was plain that seeing those images was turning her on. Then he moved on to a second series of pictures, ones that showed Kenny as Kitty. When he pointed out that the wig was unremovable, Tyra became so excited that she freed Royal's cock and lavished attention on it with her hands and mouth, to assure him that she approved of what we being inflicted on her spouse.
While she was busy with his member, he told her, "If you like what you just saw, you'll really love what comes next."
*********
One of the guards stopped outside Boss's cell. He said, "The Warden thought that, since you're taking special care of that fruit, B-Man, you should be the one to give him his shots."
"Oh, yeah," said Boss. "The vitamin ones."
Just then, Kenny had on panties and a training bra, both in pink. The guard handed a small medical case through the bars. Inside were four hypodermic needles, all of them loaded. Boss took one and held it up.
He commanded, "Drop the panties and bend over, Kitty."
By then, his plaything obeyed instantly. Even though he feared what was probably in the syringes, Kenny did nothing to interfere with being injected. One was emptied into each of his butt cheeks. Then he had to pull up the bra so the other two could be put into either side of his narrow chest, under the nipples. It hurt, but not as much as having his ass stretched by Boss's girthy cock. The white guy was even proud of himself for not doing anything to annoy his owner as he received the supposed vitamins.
That became a daily ritual. By the end of a week, there was slight but noticeable swelling in the injection sites. Kenny's nipples became even more receptive to stimulation than they had already been. After two weeks, the bra with its small cups fitted nicely. When he went to the mess hall or out into the exercise yard, the other cons were more interested in him than ever. He spent more time under the mess tables, giving head in exchange for cigarettes. In the gym, Boss would fasten his slave's leash to the base of one of the exercise machines, while the strong man used it. With his master right there, watching him, Kenny had to give more blowjobs. The men had been working out and their cocks and balls were sweaty. By that time, Kenny was more focused than ever on doing whatever it took to keep Boss happy. It was the center of his existence.
Because Kenny had purportedly tried to attack the Warden, he hadn't had any visiting privileges. That ban was finally lifted. He was allowed to go to one of the narrow booths and sit behind a sheet of bulletproof glass, to talk to whoever came to see him, via telephone. He was delighted when they told him that Tyra was there. What caught him off guard was having Boss accompany him. He was still concerned about that when he got there and
suffered a second shock. Tyra was in the chair opposite him, in a slinky red dress that barely contained her oversized boobs. But standing behind her, with his hands possessively on her bare shoulders, was Mr. Johnson.
"Look at you," Tyra said merrily. "I can see that you've adapted to prison life, Kitty."
He self-consciously touched his wig. Kenny wished that Boss hadn't made him apply extra lipstick that morning. And that he hadn't ordered him to put on a mesh bra-and-panty set. His new breasts were blatantly shown off.
Tyra looked back and up, at Mr. Johnson. "What do you think of my husband, Royal?"
"I think you're lucky that I'm taking special care of you, while he's in here playing dress-up and hitting on all the men, or at least the big tough ones."
Boss interjected with, "I'm keeping an eye on him." He stretched his long arms and cupped those modest tits, with his big hands easily covering them. He toyed with Kenny's nips through the bra. Then he told his plaything, "Stand up, so they can see how much you like having your cupcakes played with, especially the cherries on top."
Kenny wordlessly stood up, to expose the erection he had sprouted. Tyra giggled.
His wife said, "That looks great, especially since B-Man had them get rid of your body hair. It'll be a shame when it grows back."
Boss told her, "That's not going to happen, pretty lady. What they done is permanent."
Kenny's eyes went wide. He hadn't known the process was irreversable.
His cellmate went on, "And those bubbies are going to grow some more." He said to Kenny, "You love it when I give you your hormone shots, don't you, Kitty?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"And now do you thank me?"
"I suck your cock and kiss your balls, Sir."
"Damn right you do."
Tyra mentioned, "And your pecker got smaller. Not that it was
very big to begin with."
Royal Johnson observed, "You're not going to be any use in bed, once you get home in a few weeks, Kitty."
Kenny looked up at Boss. "Will I be allowed to leave, Daddy?"
"You will, if I don't make any complaints about you. I did have to tell them that you tried to bite me on the arm."
"I didn't do that." "You did, if I say you did."
After a few seconds of thought, Kenny said in a distressed tone, "Am I going to have to see the dentist?"
"You are due for an exam," Boss said with a nod. "We'll see what he finds." He reached down and came up with the leash to Kenny's ball-ring. "Turn around and drop your panties, Kitty."
Kenny sobbed and did as he was told. He pivoted and pulled down the thin panties. When he spread his legs, the visitors saw the new, wider ring that had been put on him, which held his testicles even further away from his body. Boss gave it a violent yank, which made Kenny's knees buckle. While he was down there, Boss made him give his cock a tongue-bath, which ended with him spurting a load onto Kenny's tongue.
"I got to be careful," Boss said. "If I tug too hard and too often on that thing, I might wreck his balls."
"That would be just awful," Tyra pronounced, her smirk belying the words.
*********
At long last, the day came when Kenny was released. He was walked through his cellblock, still in drag, because the staff said the clothes in which he had arrived got lost. His new curves were
shown off by a tank top that revealed plenty of side-boob, and mini-shorts that rode up between his bulging butt-cheeks. There were hoots and catcalls from the cells.
"Thanks for all the BJs, Kitty."
"I'm gonna miss your soft hands on my cock." "Ain't nobody eats ass like you, girl." "Who's going to toss my salad now?"
He was relieved to exit the front gate. Waiting for him in a long shiny car was Tyra. She was in the passenger seat, with Royal Johnson at the wheel. Kenny got into the rear, anxious to return home. Instead of driving to his familiar neighborhood, they went to a spacious home out beyond the suburbs.
"This is Royal's place," Tyra explained. "I've been living here for a while. It was just that I hated being alone in our little place."
"Sure. Okay." Kenny's eyes kept darting around. It was so strange to be out of his accustomed prison environment.
Once they were inside, Tyra said, "You're not saying much, Kitty. What's the matter?"
"My teeth," he said, though the second word was distorted.
"Yes." She shrugged as if it was nothing. "They told me that the dentist found some major issues and had to pull them all. Oh well."
Royal winked at him. "I hear the other convicts loved it once they were gone. The way you gummed their cocks thrilled them."
He nodded. "And..."
Tyra put on a concerned face. "Something else, Kitty?" "My..." He gestured toward his crotch. "That ring. The leash."
"Right." Tyra rolled her eyes. "You almost made it to the end with your balls intact. I'm sure Boss was sorry when he lost his temper and did all that damage. But look at the bright side. The doctor castrated you while you were still a ward of the state, so it didn't cost us a penny."
"My balls..." He sniffled.
"You won't need them," Royal soothed. "I'm taking care of all your wife's bedroom needs, and will be from now on."
Tyra said, "In fact, let's all visit the bedroom right now, so you can see how well he does it, and how happy he makes me."
Kenny had to witness his wife being willingly ravished by Royal's superior cock. She got noisy and animated while he pleasured her in ways Kenny could have never done in the past. Now, in his emasculated state, he wouldn't even be able to do what he used to.
After their sexual bout, he had to lick his wife's pussy, and clean out Royal's pentiful cream. Kenny even gave her a small orgasm, which reminded him of how he had learned to be proud when he made Boss cum. They let him sleep on a dog bed, in the master bedroom, so he could hear their repeat sexual performances during the night.
"But don't worry," Royal consoled him in the morning. "You'll have a new sleeping arrangement after this.
He got his final helping of bad news that afternoon, when the front doorbell rang and they sent him to answer it. He didn't want to do that, because all he had on was a fishnet body stocking. His nipples poked out through the openings between the crisscrossed strands. His fattened bottom stretched the material in back. When he opened the door, there stood Boss, in civilian clothes.
"Hey, Kitty," said his former cellmate. "Surprise. I got an early release. They saw what a good job I did taking care of you, and cut the rest of my sentence. Royal and Tyra invited me to move in here, with you three, so I can keep helping you for a long time."
Kenny's wife and her stud appeared. The sissy pleaded to them with his expression. He had automatically fallen back into the habit of not speaking around Boss.
"What's the matter?" Tyra wanted to know, all sweet innocence. "Now you can be with Boss every night, just like for the past six months."
Kenny's knees failed him. He sank down and gazed up reverently. "You're not going to leave me, are you, Daddy?"
"No way, Kitty. What could be better for me than to have my very own toothless eunuch, with them growing titties and twerkable booty. And I know the Lord and Lady of the house are going to want to take advantage of your mouth and ass, too."
As if she was imparting great news, Tyra announced, "I even got strap-on, with a black dildo the same size as Boss's cock. The four of us are going to be one big happy family."
Kenny looked to Boss for approval, for permission, and for guidance. The half-a-year makeover was complete. The cuckold was totally dependent on his owner, and would soon be just as deeply in thrall to the other two.
*********
