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SWINGING INTO SLAVERY
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Barbara, my wife, and I took a trip last weekend to a new club. The weather hot and dry, and a wicked hot wind blew, adding the oppressive heat, putting my nerves on a raw edge. Barbara didn’t notice the heat, her own body heat was hotter than the wind. She always ran warm, about 99.9 or 100 degrees. And it wasn’t a fever, not from illness, at least. No, her fire, sparked by her natural lust, is always there. For years Barbara made no secret she wanted us to try swinging.
As for me, on swinging, I had less than a passing interest. I feared once she’d had a bigger cock, she’d no longer find my smaller-sized penis sufficient.
But you know how some women are. Barbara’s continuous harping, pestering, nagging, whatever you want to call it, caused me to weaken on the idea. I haven’t an idea where she found it, but she had this sex newspaper. The fuck rag advertised a bash open to members and nonmembers alike at a local swing club. Also, it said, “Single men and women are welcome at the party.”
If I’m honest, I can’t keep up with Barbara, and the thought of watching her fucking another man while I fuck his wife sparked my imagination. Still, I had reservations about opening this door to our relationship.
This swinging thing, well, it would be a leap, not a step. Despite my hesitance, she wanted to try it, and maybe it wouldn’t be all she hoped for.
“Can we please go there?” Christ looked at me with her big, bright blue eyes. “We’ll do a soft swing, no fucking, just oral. Please?”
“Okay,” I said, as my penis reacted positively. Barbara had stayed a virgin until we fucked on our honeymoon, In fact, that is the great mystery of my wife. In the back of my mind, a pestering voice worried me with an unending warning, ‘This is a mistake.’
My desire was to give her what she wanted, and hopefully, she’d realize she didn’t want this after all. A little louder in my mind, ‘This is a mistake.’
I pushed the voice from my mind, and as we walked into the club, I thought maybe, just maybe, my plan would work. The joint, packed to the rafters, gave off a cheap, nasty vibe. Freakish folks crowded into the main room. Women and men wore leather. Massive amounts of makeup caked on the guys’ and gals’ faces, intermixed with more normal-looking couples, and tons of single men drifted about.
The single men circled the couples like sharks, ready to attack.
‘This is a mistake.’ Again, I pushed the pestering warning from my mind.
Nonetheless, I felt uneasy, excited, and terrified, rotating between the emotions as each battled for supremacy. Being we’re both short, me 5 feet 10, and her not quite 5 feet tall, I felt threatened in some undefined way. That isn’t to say there weren’t shorter people, but most, especially the men, stood tall. Women over five foot seven, men well above six feet. And there were the black men, tall, brawny fellers with muscles and massive bulges in their trousers.
The opportunities, danger, and airborne sexuality was a stimulant. One can lose oneself in this and not perceive when things take a turn.
Barbara always told me she’d never want a cock bigger than mine. “Three inches is a perfect fit,” So I felt confident she’d reject any of these men. Besides, only one couple was black, and the rest of the Negros were single, rough-looking men.
Believe me, I wasn’t a racist. However, black men, large Negros, scare the shit out of me.
The black woman approached us. “Hey, I’m Tydye. Jamil, my husband, and I would love to be with y’all in a room we booked. Let me make it clear, just you and me,” Tydye said to my wife.
“Oh, I’d love to try that,” Barbara said. Turning to me, she turned on the teasing charm. “Please, baby doll, let me try some lesbo action?”
“Well, yeah, that sounds fine, but what will Jamil and I do?”
The woman held her hand up, wrapped her fingers like she held a cock, and pumped her fist. “Jacky and her sisters can be your friends. If you know what I mean.”
Of course, I understood her meaning. Her husband was a giant with the biggest pant bulge I had seen. I wanted to deny my wife this, but couldn’t find any reason. We’d agreed to a soft swap, and what would be better than her with a woman and the husband and me jacking. Though I worried about my penis being compared to his by Barbara.
Barbara had always claimed my penis was a perfect size. So, what was there to worry me? Off the top of my head, the man was twice my size, height and weight wise, and the more than impressive bulge told him at least two or three times larger than me there, too.
He walked up to us, tall, dark, handsome, with a touch of darkness not associated with his skin color. The mischievous, mysterious darkness women find appealing. Stretching out his right hand, he took mine, covering it, and I winced. Not from pain, but fear of what those oversized paws might do to me.
“Sorry, man, didn’t realize I squeezed so hard,” he said while releasing his hold. “I’m Jamil.”
“It’s okay. I’m Dean,”
“You’re okay, Deannie,”
The way he said it took me back. I was sure he’d used it as a put down. Jamil led the way, pulling a key card from his shirt pocket. We slowly climbed a flight of stairs. Our footsteps echoed in the darkened hall as we walked to a room at the back. He pushed the card into a slot, the light on the door went from red to green, a buzz emitted from the door lock, and Jamil pushed the door open.
He slid his hand around my arm, closed his fingers, not quite roughly, and he directed me into the room.
His hand moved to my shoulder, still moving me to a small bed across from a king-sized bed. He turned me toward the bed, and I followed his lead. He turned me again, with a tug and twitch of my shoulder, and sat me on the bed. Again, I did what he wanted. A strange churning rumbled silently through my belly as he talked to me.
“You’re alright, Deannie,” he repeated himself from before. “Letting my wife and your wife have fun. Lots of boys don’t allow this, you know.” He stared at me, and his gaze was intense, like he looked inside me.
“Well, it’s just a soft swap....what harm can come from that?”
“Your hair, long like it is, really sets your face off. Blonde hair and tanned skin go well together. Yeah, your long hair really shows off how ... handsome you are.” He lifted his eyebrows three times when he said, “Handsome.”
The wives were kissing and undressing each other, but he didn’t take his dark eyes off me. Agitation pestered my mind as he continued to speak, shaking my confidence in myself and my projected image.
“If I’m truthful, you’re not handsome so much as lovely,” His big left mitt moved from my right shoulder across my neck, brushing my long hair as it passed under it to my right shoulder. “And your hands, oh, baby, you got small, sweet sexy hands. Long, slender, girlish fingers. They look soft too. Gonna feel incredible on my black cock.”
“I ain’t that way...Barbara likes me to wear my hair this way,” I insisted in a faltering voice. Trying to move away, he kept his long, large fingers on the front of my shoulder and his giant thumb on the back and squeezed.
“Don’t be that way,” Jamil said, digging his thumb deep into my shoulder. “I compliment you, and you pull away from me. Your wife understands you better than you do.”
“I’m not gay or bi,”
“Sure, I get it.” Jamil leaned to my ear and whispered, “You’re a girl who wants some cock to suck.”
Pulling away from me, Jamil’s right hand came to my face. With this oddly gentle touch, he brushed my tears away with his big thumb. First, one cheek, then the other. The man’s face was dark and ruggedly handsome. With powerful, amber eyes, he gazed into mine. With tenderness, he moved his fingers across my cheek. He caressed my chin, his fingers dancing down my neck, passing across my chest further and further until he rested his hand on my crotch.
I looked away from him and glanced toward my wife. Her face buried between the woman’s legs, and Tydye’s hands clutched the back of Barbara’s head, forcing Barbara deep into Tydye’s crotch.
Their bodies had ripe fullness, and Tydye was considerably stouter. The black woman’s body was molded pleasantly. Her eyes were near too black, and her hair was dark as a raven. She had a thick patch of curly hair about her pussy, and my wife munched just below the profuse patch.
The sight sent shivers through me. I tried to concentrate on them, but Jamil’s touch drove me insane. Precum leaked from my penis, making a small wet spot where his palm rested. My eyes stung, and my throat tightened as tears streamed down my face.
“Why you doing that? Stop being coy, stop the waterworks, and admit what you want and need. Your clitty is all hard, baby doll. You're fem.....didn’t know till I touched you, but you do now.”
“I’m not,” I told him as he moved his hand back to my face and forced me to look at him again. His breath moved over my face, his lips parted, and he inched closer and closer. I closed my eyes. Jamil’s firm lips pushed against mine, his big fat tongue parted my mouth, and he drew me into him.
There was something in his kiss, something electric, something magnetic. The remnants of my masculinity fled me as I melted into him, and my body quivered in his arms. A mixture of fear and wonder ran rampant inside me. Out of some buried instinct, I moved my hand to his crotch. The massive monster responded, swelling, straining to escape its enclosure.
The soft, tender, loving kiss changed to hotter, fleshly, and wanton. My hands wrapped around Jamil, touching the carved body underneath his tight-fitting clothing. He pressed me to the mattress, freeing my shirt from my chest. Hard, callused hands roamed over my back and chest. Pinching, cupping my small pecs like breasts.
Again, his hand found my penis. With a cupping of his hand, I lost my seed. With his ring and pinky, he massaged my balls while his index, middle finger, and thumb milked my penis. Breaking our kiss, Jamil drew back a few inches.
“I’m sorry,” I said, horrified at what happened.
“Shh, shh, shh, no, you’re a good girl,”
“This is all so new,”
Rising above me, he stripped his t-shirt from his body, exposing his carved rock-like muscles. Reaching up, I ran my hands over his chest and down his rippled belly. Still, I hadn’t smiled or changed my expression, and I was positive I looked like a frightened boy. My tongue darted out, licking my lips. The dryness of my mouth, throat, and lips bothered me.
Standing, he moved away, the knot in my belly clenched tight.
My eyes followed him while a dread spread from my stomach and found my heart. For a moment, I thought it would stop beating. But Jamil didn’t leave the room, or leave me. Rather, he filled a glass with ice, poured a clear liquid into the glass, and stared at the women fucking on the other bed.
My wife sat with her back to the headboard. The tall black woman was between her legs, and Barbara’s hips jerked, thrust, and twitched as the woman dined on her. All the while, Barbara sucked her thumb, eyeballing me. She mouthed, “I love you.” Adding a moment later, a silent, “I knew.”
What did she mean, she knew? What did she know? The truth clicked in my brain — Barbara always knew I wasn’t a real man!
A crushing weight pressed into my mind. Currents of guilt, shame, and humiliation washed over as so many waves over a beach. I gazed at my cum, covered crotch, seeing my small penis pushed a tiny tent in my khakis.
With no sneaky way to hide from her what was happening, no clandestine corner out of view, I’d exposed my weakness to her. A flaw I hadn’t even understood I had. And he, that magnificent stallion, saw through me like glass.
As he ambled back to me, the glass in his hand, his eyes drinking me into him, I pondered if his gaze was deeper. Did he see me for what I was? Had he, with his stare, powerful touch, and burning kiss, turned me into what he desired me to be?
Jamil handed me the glass. “Water....drink it down. You gonna need to stay hydrated, baby girl.”
Taking the glass, holding it to my mouth, with greed, I downed the fluid. The water dribbled from the sides of my mouth, flowed over my chin, and down my neck. I tried to swallow quickly and gulped the entire glass without stopping.
I lapped up the water while I heard the frantic clatter of his belt buckle hitting the floor, followed by the tugging and ripping of him unzipping his fly. Pushing the pants down, slow, in a measured way, until his enormous black cock sprang free. Defying gravity, it hung straight out away from his crotch. Opening a drawer on the table next to the small bed, he pulled out a bottle and squirted some oil over his cock.
Sitting the bottle on the table, he rubbed the slick lubricant over the shaft, working it into the jet-black flesh.
“Touch me,” he said, shoving his cock close to my face.
I shook my head. My mind swirled, my heart raced, and my penis was so hard the denim in my pants tented it.
“You’re not making this easy for me.”
Grabbing my hand, Jamil forced my hand to his bare cock, applying pressure. “Hold it there,” he said, pointing to the lump in my pants. “Feel it. Feel what you do to me. Hold me, or I’ll tie your wrists to the headboard.”
I did as he commanded, fearing what else he might do.
“Now jack me with your slender hands, baby girl.”
“No......” I said, the words but jacked him anyway, losing myself in his power.
“Now, baby girl,”
My hands moved up and down his shaft. I eyed his throbbing manhood, growing, hardening in my hands. “You want to suck me, baby girl..... I know, I can feel it.”
His cock thickened, engorged, growing in my hands, forcing them further apart, then stretching them further down. “See that big ole pecker? Oh, baby doll, that’s what you’re doing to me. Sweet child, you gonna make me nut on your face.”
“I don’t want to....” I said, knowing I was lying through my teeth, but every second he was talking to me, every second I held his cock in my hands, I despised myself more. I hated my week, feckless being.
“The fuck you don’t, baby girl?” he asked, forcing me to continue with the strength of his deep, sensual voice.
“No,” I repeated. This time, the word no sounded pathetic and unimpressive. Fear is a powerful motivator, and I surrendered to his will momentarily. Forcing my gaze away from his handsome face. Closing my eyes tight, unable to see him, I compelled myself to stop touching him.
“No!” I said a third time, loud and forceful. “I’m not a girl, and I’m not a gay faggot.”
The palm of his hand stung my left cheek. I opened my eyes, tears rolling down my face, the salt stinging my bruised cheek.
“Don’t give me that shit. You’re as much a girl as your wife. You’re sure as shit, not a man, not a real one. What you are, baby doll, is a submissive girl, and you need to be taught the meaning of your new life.”
His palm hit my right cheek hard, and energy rushed through my body. I grabbed his cock with both hands, jacking him, the bulbous mushroom head a mere inch from my nose and lips. I worked him fast for all I was worth.
“Make me cum, sweetheart.”
The lotion made a pleasing sound as I massaged his massive rod. The man’s cock was thick, veiny, hot, and so fucking stiff.
“Cum for me....please....give me your load,” In my mind, I kept telling myself I wasn’t gay. This thing was this giant forcing me. The awful, humiliating fact shattered me. Why? Because I so wanted this.
The smell and sight of him, the feel of his pre-cum leaking from his cock, drizzling on my bare chest, made me so hard I hurt. The tight khaki pants constrained my penis. Despite its size, my penis felt bigger than ever.
“I want your cum on me, shooting in my mouth.... on my face, all over me,”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby girl, I’m gonna fill you up,” he said, pushing his cock down, rubbing the tip against my lips, and pushing it against my upper lip. “Open wide, baby doll....suck that big black cock.”
I opened my mouth. Jamil thrust his cock in, jamming it down my throat. I gagged, spewing slobber around the massive root shoved inside my mouth.
“That’s right, get it all the way in.” He forced my head further down on his fleshy rod. I gagged over and over. “Oh, yeah, baby, eat this up.”
Thick rivulets of sputum sprayed down my throat, filling my mouth and leaking around his shaft, dribbling down on my flat, girlish chest.
He clutched my hair, entwining strands between his fingers, gripping tight and twisting, forcing my mouth down. With ruthless abandon, he rammed his cock deep down my throat, grunting this guttural growl. It seemed an eternity. Using my hair as a handle of sorts, he fucked my throat. Yanking me away, forcing me to take him way down again, away again, and down.
The sloshing, gagging, and his balls slapping my neck made a symphony. Erotic and addictive, he fucked my throat, and I moaned and groaned as best I might. My secret fantasies found a form for the first time in my life.
A spasm at the base of Jamil’s cock traveled through my mouth and shot out into my throat. Another, again, and another. Holding my head against his crotch, Jamil’s magnificent cock, buried deep in my throat, spat his seed into my belly.
I couldn’t breathe, and panic set into my mind. Jamil yanked his cock from me, still spraying his chum. I closed my eyes, and he coated my eyelids with the last of his discharge.
“Now, it’s gonna be a full swing,” Jamil said, his cock hard as a rock, having lost nothing from cream-pieing my face.
“If that’s what you want, Daddy,” I said, wiping the cum from my face and lapping his salty, savory seed.
“It is, baby girl,” he turned from me. My heart sank as he strutted toward my wife.
Waving his fist, with his thumb extended, he pointed in my direction, “Tydye, go use that cunt,,,but don’t hurt her.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling at me with the most wicked grin I’d ever seen. “What a pretty little clitty.”
Walking to the table by the bed, she opened the drawer from which Jamil had taken the lotion. She pulled out a strap-on harness with a short, broad, black rubber cock sticking out from it. As she worked it on, she asked me a question.
“You a virgin back thar boy?”
Coyly, I nodded and ducked my head, afraid to make eye contact. Only when she moved toward me I noticed how muscled she was. She squirted lotion on her hand and lubed her rubber pecker.
“Get out of the khaki pants n tidy whiteys, baby girl, and get ready to lose that cherry.”
A screech came from my wife. I glanced at her while undressing and saw Jamil whispering to her as he’d whispered to me. He’d shoved the mushroom head inside her pussy opening. Nothing more than his fat cockhead, and the shock of it sent my wife into instant rapture.
She gazed at him with reverence as she gazed at her new god.
Jamil fucked my wife like a wild stallion taking a broodmare. Eventually, we were both face down, ass up, being fucked raw. It was the most humiliating, sensual copulation of our marriage, and we never touched one another.
I’d taken nothing in my ass before. It hurt most excruciatingly, and yet, it kept my penis hard, and I spit three small loads of cum on the sheets under Tydye’s raw, rough pounding. She scratched my back and chest, running her long fingernails over my flesh, teasing me relentlessly as she fucked.
“You’re a real little bitch girl now,” she purred in my ear as my third load dribbled on the sheets.
I moaned, groaned, and made all the same sounds my slut wife made as Jamil pounded her tender white cunt into hamburger. She was beautiful while she moved under this mighty master, this Black Adonis. Barbara’s legs quivered. With each powerful thrust, her ass rippled.
Tydye removed the harness, leaving the cock buried balls deep in my ass. She reclined on the bed, her silky black legs spread.
“Oh, pussy eater,” she said. “Come here, cracker bitch, eat my motherfucking pussy.”
Jamil lost another load, climbed off my wife, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and forced her to look at me.
“She’s ready,” he said to his wife, “Tydye’s going to show you how to eat pussy.... the right way, Barbara.”
“You know what to do, honey girl,” she said. “Now you show your cunt wife how it’s done, okay?”
I stood and shook my head, gazing at the carpet as she caressed my face.
“Ready to take your first lick of superior pussy, girly boy?”
“Yes.....” Moving between Tydye’s legs, she took my head and guided me into her. Reaching out, she touched my face, her delicate fingers a sharp contrast to the brute strength of Jamil’s massive hands. Glaring into my eyes, she spoke harshly and motioned for me to get busy.
“Eat me, bitch!”
I stared at her, my wife, my love. In that brief moment, I loved Barbara more than any man loved his wife.
She grinned broadly at me.
“Bitch.....Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Barbara fingered her black pussy, jiggling her mound, spreading her lips, and revealing her pink, glistening, juicy hole, “Bitch, bitch, bitch.”
I lowered my face slowly, slowly. I buried my face between Tydye’s legs, found the lips of her pussy, and felt the lush softness of the velvet folds beneath my lips.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch.”
I opened my mouth, saying nothing.
“You want me to bite off your pretend cock?”
I shook my head.
“You a bitch. You’re my bitch. Now eat me, sugar girl.”
She stretched her thighs open to their widest extent. I burrowed my tongue deep inside her secret charms. Tydye wiggled her bottom, grinding into my face. I ate my mistress out for all I was worth. Soon, Tydye shuddered through a massive orgasm and pushed me to the floor. With a few quick kicks and hateful remarks, she ordered me to clean her husband’s cum from Barbara’s cunt.
“You’re sorry white asses belong to us now, girly man, so do what you’re told. Whitey wife, spread them legs for your, thing...girly man. Yes, that is what it is, a girly man.”
The taste and odors were surreal. How could I describe the taste of my wife’s cunt to another man? Her musk was unmistakable, indescribable. His cum had a salty sweetness. Barbara’s pussy and his cum swirled over my tongue and filled my mouth.
I lay between her legs, eating up his cum, giving her more pleasure.
Jamil’s hands took my hips and rolled me over on my back. Tydye forced my legs high and yanked the rubber cock from my ass. While Jamil spread my pale white ass open for him, he pressed the bulbous head to my sphincter. He shoved himself deep inside me. All my manliness bolted, and I embraced my newfound femininity.
I’d never experienced the taste of my wife’s cunt before like this. Now, in the presence of a Black Man, of my Black Master, I was a cuckold, my pale ass stretched by the huge black cock of another man.
Barbara sat on my face, my tongue swirling over her feminine crotch, my face smeared with her white pussy juices and his thick, sticky semen.
“She a bitch now, sure-nuff,” Tydye said in a loud, confident voice.
I’d never been so hard, so horny. I attacked my black mistress’s pussy the way a madman bites the flesh of a rabid animal. Her juices and his jizz filled my mouth and trickled down my chin. I could feel the muscles in my jaw aching with the pressure and pleasure of her pleasure.
My ass convulsed, and my penis leaked more of my own inferior semen.
Jamil pounded my hole, stretching me, ruining my pussy/ass, and I came again.
“Barbara....” I moaned through my wife’s pussy, “I love you.”
“I love you too, sugar,” she purred tenderly and calmly.
“And you’ll be good cunts for us,” Jamil grunted as his thick cum coated my guts.
“Yes....”
“You’ll be my cock-sucking white bitches. Tydye, go fetch the boys and bring him for some mofucking more fun with our slaves. Time to pull a train, bitches.”
When the party ended, it wore us out, and we realized our lives changed. There was no going back. We had to think about our next move.
After minutes of discussion, Barbara said, “Jamil and Tydye will tell us what’s next. After all, sweetie, we don’t have rights. Slaves don’t decide anything.”
When the realization hit me, my heart sank as I understood Jamil and his friends would be the only ones who’d fucked her.
I had lost Barbara, and became a sissy faggot for black men and women, and gave up my freedom willingly to this forceful black couple.
I would become fully feminized: all hair below my head hair would be permanently removed, I would be taking high doses of estrogen to change my body, I would grow real breasts, actually TITS, and rounded hips and a more fuckable ass-pussy. Eventually I would be castrated, but keep my ever shrinking penis/clitty to urinate.
This superior black team became our masters.
We would suck cocks and be fucked by any black men, or women, Jamil and Tydye would want.
That was ten months ago, and Barbara’s lovely, bloated belly shows she’s so close to delivery.
We will raise a superior black child for our masters.... and for any others our masters wish.
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Posted on : Nov 2, 2024
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