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Forced Feminization - Daisy and Tyrone
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André had always known he was in for a rough ride when he'd borrowed money from Fernando. He'd heard the whispers, the stories about the billionaire's penchant for the dramatic and his unorthodox methods of collecting debts. But he'd never imagined it would come to this.
Now, standing in front of the full-length mirror in his new "wife's" bedroom, André couldn't believe the transformation. He looked at himself, now Daisy, with a mix of horror and fascination. The blonde wig was a poor imitation of the real thing, but it served its purpose. His once muscular frame was now cinched into a vintage-style corset that pushed his breasts up and made his waist seem impossibly small. The short, frilly skirt barely covered his thighs, and the fishnet stockings did nothing to hide the bruises already forming from his first encounter with Tyrone's belt.
Tyrone was a monolith of a man, towering over André at 6'5" and built like a brick wall. His skin was as dark as midnight and gleamed with the sweat of his day's labors. The 21-year-old had never felt so small, so vulnerable in the presence of another human being. Yet, it was this very vulnerability that had drawn André to Tyrone in the first place. But now, as he saw the gleam in Tyrone's eye, he realized that his attraction had been his downfall.
The belt came off with a whip-like sound, and André's heart raced. He knew what was coming next. Tyrone approached him, his handsome face set in stern lines. "You're going to learn your place, Daisy," he said, his deep voice a rumble in the quiet room. André felt his knees shake as Tyrone grabbed his arm and pulled him over his lap. The skirt was flipped up, revealing the matching red panties that were part of the ensemble.
With a smack, the first blow from the hairbrush landed on his bare ass. André yelped, the pain surprisingly intense. He'd never been spanked before, and certainly not by someone as powerful as Tyrone. But he knew better than to resist. He bit his lip and took it, feeling the heat build with every strike. The brush was unforgiving, leaving a trail of fire across his tender skin. He could smell the faint scent of Tyrone's cologne, feel the man's strong hand holding him in place, and hear the leather of the couch creak under their combined weight.
The spanking was thorough, and by the time it was over, André's ass was a brilliant shade of red, the cheeks bouncing with each smack. Tyrone's cock, a monstrous 23 cm of black flesh, was already hard against his stomach. André felt a wave of fear and disgust wash over him. He knew what was expected of him now, what his role was in this twisted game.
He was to be the submissive wife, the plaything for Tyrone's desires. The thought of Tyrone's cock inside him made him gag, but he knew there was no escape. He'd signed the contract with his own blood, and now he was bound to this life. With trembling hands, André reached down and pulled his panties down to his knees, exposing his tight, unblemished hole. Tyrone grinned, his teeth flashing white against his dark skin.
"Good boy," he said, his voice thick with lust. "Now, get on all fours and show me how much you want to please your husband."
André did as he was told, his heart racing as Tyrone moved behind him. He felt the tip of the massive cock press against his entrance, the heat of it making him flinch. Tyrone didn't waste any time, pushing in hard. André screamed, the pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was as if he was being split in two.
But Tyrone was merciless. He began to pump into André, each thrust sending a bolt of pain through his body. André's eyes watered, his vision swimming as he focused on the plush carpet beneath him. He could feel Tyrone's balls slapping against his own, the sound echoing through the room like a sick drumbeat. It was all he could do to keep from passing out.
Fernando, watching from the doorway, chuckled to himself. He'd known André had a submissive streak, but seeing him like this, utterly broken and powerless, was more satisfying than he could have ever imagined. The sight of the young man's round, red ass bobbing up and down was almost too much for him. He took out his phone and began to record, eager to capture every moment of Daisy's degradation.
As Tyrone picked up his pace, André's cries grew louder, filling the room with the sound of his pain. His makeup was smeared, the perfect winged eyeliner now a mess of black streaks. The lingerie was rumpled and stained, a sad parody of the glamourous woman he was supposed to be. The only thing that remained pristine was the white apron tied around his waist, a symbol of his newfound role as a servant to these two men.
Finally, Tyrone reached his climax, pulling out and spurting his seed onto André's back. The younger man collapsed to the floor, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his sobs. Tyrone stood over him, his cock still hard and gleaming. "Clean up," he ordered, tossing André a wet wipe.
Fernando stepped forward, his own arousal evident in the bulge in his pants. "Very good, Daisy," he said, his voice dripping with mock kindness. "You're learning so quickly." He reached out and petted André's head, his hand coming away sticky with sweat and hairspray. André flinched at the touch but didn't dare move. He knew his place now.
For the next few days, André's life was a blur of pain and humiliation. Every time he thought he couldn't take any more, Tyrone would come up with a new way to assert his dominance. The spankings grew harsher, the sex more degrading. He was made to serve them dinner in nothing but his underwear, bend over to have his ass inspected, and even perform oral sex in public, all while wearing the ridiculous outfits that Tyrone picked out for him.
And yet, amidst all the pain and fear, André felt something else stirring within him. A strange, dark thrill at being so completely dominated, so utterly owned by these powerful men. It was a feeling he'd never experienced before, and as much as he hated it, he couldn't deny the way it made his pulse race, his blood sing. It was as if he was slowly being rewired, his very essence reshaped by the cruel hands of fate.
One evening, after a particularly brutal session, Tyrone pulled André onto his lap and whispered in his ear, "You're mine now, Daisy. You belong to me." André's heart broke at the words, but he couldn't help the way his body responded, his cock hardening against Tyrone's thigh. He looked up into the older man's eyes and saw the possessive hunger there, and for a brief moment, he almost felt...safe.
As Tyrone cradled him, stroking his hair like a pet, André realized that he had no choice but to accept this new reality. He was Daisy, the obedient wife of a sadistic black man with a penchant for pain and humiliation. And as much as he despised the thought, a part of him was already beginning to crave it.
Fernando, ever the master of ceremonies, decided it was time for another round of punishment. He pulled out a vintage ruler from the desk drawer and smacked it against his palm. "Daisy, I think it's time for your evening inspection," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. André's stomach turned as he felt himself being lifted and placed over Tyrone's knee once more.
The ruler was unforgiving, each smack echoing through the room and sending shockwaves of pain through his body. He could feel the imprint of it on his skin, the sharp lines of the ruler leaving their mark. His ass was already sore from the previous sessions, but he knew better than to protest. Instead, he focused on the sound of his own cries, the way they filled the space between the three of them like a macabre symphony.
When the inspection was over, Tyrone helped André to his feet, his strong arms surprisingly gentle. "You're doing well," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the cruelty of his actions. André nodded, his cheeks flaming with a mix of shame and arousal. He didn't know how he could want this, but his body was betraying him in the most primal of ways.
Fernando clapped his hands together. "Now, let's get you cleaned up before bed," he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. André was led to the bathroom, where a steaming hot tub awaited him. He sank into the water with a sigh, his bruised body protesting every movement. But as Tyrone began to wash him, his rough hands surprisingly gentle, André felt a strange sense of peace settle over him.
Maybe this was his punishment, he thought. To be used and abused by these men, to be their plaything and servant. But as the water washed away the day's grime and pain, he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of belonging. This was his place now, and as much as he hated it, a part of him craved the structure, the discipline.
The days turned into weeks, and André's transformation into Daisy was complete. He wore the vintage lingerie and dresses without protest, eager to please his husband and master. The spankings had become a regular occurrence, a twisted form of affection that he'd learned to anticipate and almost enjoy. And when Tyrone called for him, demanding his anal submission, André would drop to his knees without hesitation.
The neighbors had caught glimpses of the bizarre scene in the garden, the tall black man wielding a belt and the blond "woman" with her skirt lifted, receiving her punishment. They whispered about it in hushed tones, sharing the videos they'd secretly recorded. But André didn't care. He was Daisy now, and Daisy knew her place.
One night, as Tyrone pounded into him on the kitchen counter, the sound of their flesh slapping together filling the room, André looked into the mirror. He saw the fear in his own eyes, the tears streaming down his cheeks. But he also saw something else. A spark of desire, a flicker of need that went deeper than the pain. And as Tyrone's grip tightened on his hips, he knew that he was truly lost to this world, forever bound to the whims of his husband and the will of his master.
The thought was terrifying, but it was also...freeing. He had no more choices to make, no more responsibilities other than to serve and obey. And in that moment, as Tyrone filled him up and he felt the warmth of his seed deep inside, André let go. He was Daisy, the submissive wife of Tyrone, and he was going to learn to love it. Or at least, to survive it.
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Posted on : Jul 14, 2025
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