Forced Slutty Transformation Ch. 03

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Big Tits

Coming home again, humiliated, horny, and dejected, I was determined to get this cage off. I faked sick with my mom, and went up to my room to try to get it off again. When I got there, I realized I was still wearing those stupid panties. I pulled them off, and threw them under my bed in disgust. I was sick of this game, of being humiliated like this. It wasn’t fair that I had no control. I hadn’t even done anything wrong. I spent another fruitless couple of hours trying to remove the cage, and failing. I went to bed, and again, didn’t sleep well, but better than last time at least. The next day, I woke up late. But, I went to school, determined, and with a plan. I saw Roy in my first period, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him before class started. After the period ended, though, I chased him down, only to find him chatting with a group of football buddies.

“Uh.. Hey, Roy, can we talk?” I asked hesitantly.

“S’cuse you. I’m talking to my friends, real men. Don’t interrupt.”

I was dumbfounded, and went beet red. How dare he insult me like that! And brushing me off, too! God, he made me angry.

“I really need to talk to you!” I said, frustrated.

He glared at me, and sauntered off, tossing a middle finger my way. Mark walked up behind me, and said “I didn’t know you and Roy Archer were friends.”

“We aren’t,” I answered flatly.

“Yeah, I guess you guys didn’t seem to friendly.”

By the end of the day, having suffered another day far too similar to the last one, I was a wreck. Telling Coach that I had pulled a groin muscle yesterday during the extra sets was part of my genius plan, and because of how stressed I looked, it worked. I called Roy as soon as I got to my car, and told him I was on my way over.

“Hold on, fag. I’ve got practice, and then a girl coming over. Don’t show up for another two hours.”

And then he hung up, without another word. The asshole. I drove to a park near the school, and sat in my car, fuming. I WAS going to get this damn cage off, however I could. It even made peeing difficult, much less being uncomfortable and keeping me abstinent. After two hours, I drove to the Archer’s house.

I was about to park in the driveway, when the garage door opened. Roy waved me in to the empty spot, like he wanted me to park my Prius in his garage. I did, parking next to his truck and got out, glaring at him the whole time. He pressed Şişli travesti the button to close the garage door, and said “Glad to see you came.”

“Like I had a fucking choice!” I hissed back at him.

“Ooh, feisty today. Watch the tone, or I won’t take that lock off.”

I continued glaring at him, but said nothing. Roy led me into his house, and up to his parents room again. He was wearing the same thing he had been at school, a Lakers jersey and athletic shorts.

“Alrighty, fag, only a couple photos this time. And then I’ll take the cage off. But I need to tie you up first.” He gestured toward the bed, where the sheets were already rumpled, and rope was already tied to the posts.

“Did you fuck that girl here already?” I asked, more to stall than out of actual curiosity.

“Hell yeah I did,” he said, and flashed that damn grin of his. “Now, hop on up. Clothes off first.” I did what he told me, grudgingly, and then laid down on the bed while he began tying my wrists to the corners. He finished, and was working on my ankles, when he spoke again.

“Man, your dick looks almost shriveled in that cage.”

“Fuck you,” I muttered, but quietly. Didn’t want to piss him off too much, considering he was tying me down. As he pulled the last knot tight, I felt an electric rush of panic jolt through me. I was completely at his mercy. He snapped a couple photos, and then walked over to my clothes.

“Hey, what the hell man?!”

“No worries, just setting up for later,” he responded, digging through my pockets for my phone. He grabbed it, and walked to the side of the bed where my hand was tied.

“Don’t you dare!” I snapped, panicking.

He simply pressed my finger into the button, unlocking my phone.

“Ooh, a text from Mack? Who’s that, your fag boyfriend?”

“Mack and I are friends from swim!”

“Haha, ‘How’s ur groin?’ Sure you two aren’t dating?” he laughed, and flashed another grin.

He began swiping and tapping on my phone, clearly looking for something.

“Okay, fag, here’s how this works. I’m going to text your mom, and tell her you want to stay with a friend tonight. We’ll say Mack, yeah, that’s believable. And you and I are gonna spend the weekend here. If you don’t, I’ll post those photos of you onto your Facebook, since you saw fit to set up an auto login that has told me your password. Everyone will Taksim travesti think you posted them, and the swim team will have another fag. Capiche?”

I panicked, but didn’t really see an option but to agree with him for the time being. So I did. He texted my mom, and then he set my phone aside.

He grinned again, and then went to the bedside drawer, out of which he pulled a key. He walked up to me, and stroked my stomach with one hand, and tweaked a nipple with the other.

“Ready for your freedom?” he asked.

“Please just unlock me,” I begged.

And he did. I felt so relieved, but simultaneously knew that with the photos he had of me, he basically had the same amount of control over me. He went back over to the drawer, and put the cage away, pulling out a little prescription pill bottle.

“Okay, fag, open wide,” he said, unscrewing the cap and taking out a little blue pill.

“More Viagra? Dude, come on, I don’t want to.”

“Do you want me to post the photos, then?”

I shook my head now, and opened my mouth. He dropped the pill in, and I tried to dry swallow, but couldn’t. He noticed, and his damn grin showed up like clockwork.

“Ok, need a little something to drink?” he asked.

“Please,” I mumbled around the pill.

He pulled his shorts down to reveal he was going commando under them, and whipped out his now familiar dick.

“Wait, what are you-” was all I could get out before he began pissing, directing the stream at my face and into my mouth. I coughed, and gagged, but he stopped after just a couple seconds and grabbed my chin, forcing my mouth closed. I could still feel the warm piss and pill in my mouth, and all I could taste was bitter.

“Swallow!” he commanded, and I obeyed.

He let me go, and I gasped, spitting and trying to get the taste out of my mouth. A little had gotten on my face, and I could feel it starting to drip down onto my neck.

“Good boy,” he said, like I was a dog or something.

He pulled his pants back up, and walked over to my phone, using my finger to unlock it again.

“Good, your mom texted back and said that its cool for you to stay at Macks, since you already have a spare toothbrush there. That’s adorable, but now I KNOW you two are dating.”

“Fuck off,” I muttered again, “Are you really going to keep me here the whole weekend?”

“Depends on how Gümüşsuyu travesti good you are,” he said.

20 minutes later, the Viagra had definitely kicked in, considering my 7 inches was at full mast. Roy walked back in, having left the room after his last comment, carrying a cardboard box.

“Oh, good, it’s working!” he said.

I didn’t say anything, too ashamed at having an erection while tied to some guy’s (parent’s) bed. He set the box down, out of my view, and pulled out what looked like the same nasty jockstrap from yesterday.

“I wore this at practice today for you. Got it nice and sweaty, warmed up those old cum spots, all that jazz.”

I cringed, knowing how bad it had smelled yesterday. He pushed it into my face, and began telling me to sniff it like the fag I was. And I did. And I was right, it did smell even worse than it had the day before. Something about it was starting to smell… familiar, somehow. Which made it even worse. Still holding the jock in place with one hand, he slipped his pants off with the other. He climbed up on to the bed, and straddled me, facing towards my feet.

“What are you doing?” I asked, muffled by his dirty jock, barely able to make out his bare ass facing towards me.

“Helping you get off,” he replied. And then he sat on my face. Sandwiching the jockstrap between my face and his ass, he lowered his weight onto me, making it difficult to breathe, What breaths I could get were foul, smelling like his disgusting jockstrap and sweaty ass. I tried to yell at him to get off of me, but couldn’t catch enough breath to make any noises other than vague moaning,

“Aww, the fag likes it,” he said. “Bet you’ll come when I do this.” And then he grabbed my dick between his feet, and began jerking it like that. It was terrible. His gross, sweaty feet on my dick, and his nasty smell in my nose were the least arousing things I could imagine, but the Viagra and several days of horny frustration with no relief were taking their toll. Despite my best efforts, and the circumstances, I could feel an orgasm coming. Roy continued to pump at my dick with his feet, and began muttering at me.

“Aww fuck yeah, Carter, get off on my stink. You dirty fag, filthy little slut, fucking whore…”

I had never felt so degraded in my life, not even when he had taken photos of me or when I had sucked his dick. With no control, barely able to breathe, and only breathing his stink, I felt myself reach the edge, and then cross it. I shot rope after rope of cum, smelling Roy’s stench the whole time. Coming after so many days was a relief, but the circumstances were awful, and I knew I had the whole weekend ahead of me.

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