Femme Mail

Author's Note: Based on a suggestion by IronSulfide2024, although I've taken it in an unexpected direction.

*

The atmosphere in the school bus heading north on Highway 71 was subdued. The last game of the season had not gone well, though Randy had given it everything he could. The rain hadn't helped, muting the efforts of the cheerleaders, and even the sight of Kayla's enthusiastic pink-and-white pompoms had failed to lift his spirits towards the end.

It was still raining, and harder now. The wheels kept throwing up sheets of water either side of the bus. Randy fought to keep himself staring at Kayla, the only black girl on the squad. Randy had no doubt there would have been no black girls on the cheerleading squad if Kayla's dad wasn't a major sponsor of the team. Not that Kayla didn't deserve a place - Kayla was twice the athlete of any of the other girls. Truth be told, she could outpace all the boys on the team in a race round the field.

Folks didn't like that, though. Randy's father didn't like it, and he certainly wouldn't like that his only son was chasing after her. Randy would have liked to tell people he didn't care what his father thought, but he lacked the courage for that. Kayla too. They had kissed, made it even to second base, but such moments were stolen. Furtive.

Hopefully there would be a real opportunity to go further at the party at Sammy's that night. It was stupid that they were all adults now, all eighteen, but still couldn't legally buy alcohol. Fortunately, Sammy's brother had bought them a few kegs, and all the team, the whole squad too, would be there, wild and unsupervised. Kayla would be there, and Randy's cock hardened as he imagined it finally penetrating Kayla's tight, wet pussy. In this sweet fantasy, there was no condom, and afterwards his creamy cum leaked from her pink pussy to run down the dark brown skin of her thighs and he fed his dripping cock into her mouth for her to clean - and, of course, he would harden as she sucked hungrily, and they would do it again, and again.

Lightning cracked the sky as the rain increased to a torrential downpour, and the bus slowed to a crawl. Thunder boomed loud over the deafening roar of hammering raindrops, and abruptly it was dark. No lights, no phones, nothing. The engine shuddered and failed, eliciting cries of dismay.

Followed by screams into sudden silence. As if the rain had stopped in an instant. As if the bus were falling through pitch blackness into the heart of the Earth itself. Randy grabbed at seats around him for security, weightless and disorientated for several pounding heartbeats. More screams and yells from all around him as gravity reasserted itself, throwing him painfully, awkwardly, between the seats.

Bright purple light flooded in through the windows, which were torn loudly from the bus in a shriek of twisting sheet metal, and hands reached in to grab Randy. Huge hands, twice the size of his own. Belonging to arms twice as thick as his own. He fought to be free of that brutal grip, but uselessly. Another giant had pulled Sammy from the bus, and beyond him Kayla screamed as she was plucked out by the feet and a deep, unfamiliar voice laughed.

"Let me go!" Randy shouted as he kicked viciously at his captor - who grunted with pain and threw Randy onto the ground that was cold and hard like steel. Even as he struggled back to his feet, torn momentarily between the desire to fight and an urge to flee, a ring of cold steel fastened about his neck and a shock of electricity sent him sprawling onto the ground again.

As his consciousness spiralled away, his awareness focussed on his shorts that clung very wetly to him. He had pissed himself.

*

He awoke in a cage. He awoke in a narrow, circular cage, and entirely naked save for the steel collar about his neck. The bars were slender, but strong, and spaced about an inch apart. Randy struggled to his feet within the confined space, his knees in agony from the unnatural position he'd been in while asleep.

The light was dim, but he could see other cages lined up either side. Sammy on one side. Jessica on the other. Both naked. Both crying out in complaint as they awoke to this horrifying new reality. Kayla too, several cages beyond. "Where are we?" Jessica demanded. "What the fuck!" Her hands tugged at her collar, but it was as secure about her neck as Randy's was about his. His fingers could find no hinge, no lock, no weakness or imperfection at all. It wasn't heavy or uncomfortable, but there was no ignoring it.

"Did you get a good look at them?" Sammy asked. "They seemed... big."

"Like body builders on steroids," Randy agreed. "Except bigger."

"Fucking perverts is what they are," Jessica hissed as she tried to bend the bars.

A large door swung open and light streamed in past three silhouetted figures. Two of the dark figures resolved slowly into muscular brutes of men, scowling with dim intelligence as they walked slowly past, examining their captives with disdain. But it was the middle figure who snared Randy's attention and held it.

A black woman, her skin darker than Kayla's, her head shaved bare save for a vividly red mohawk and a short, braided ponytail, exuded physical power and authority. Her clothes, consisting of red leather and steel spikes, seemed designed to reveal as much as they concealed, emphasising a voluptuous yet muscular figure. She dismissed Jessica with a sneer and turned her gaze to Randy.

Randy was dimly aware that his cock was erect and throbbing as he drank in the woman's mesmerising curves. Her red leather corset supported the most magnificent breasts he had ever set eyes on, and her rear matched her front. Round, firm, huge. Her eyes were a startling blue, and bright with intelligence as she studied him. His hard cock did not escape her notice. "This one," she said. Her words were English but her accent strange, but it sounded to Randy like she said, "Fit her with femme mail. I want her delivered tonight."

With a grunt of acknowledgement, the two brutes picked up Randy's cage between them, and followed the black woman out through the door. Randy looked back anxiously at his teammates, and his eyes sought out Kayla who cried out his name uncaring that everyone would hear, but then the door swung shut and he was cut off from them all.

As the black woman marched off without a backwards glance, the two men carried him in his cage to an ominous machine with a circular opening, a dark mouth that his cage was lowered into, and then withdrawn - leaving Randy half swallowed as a ring tightened about his midriff. Steel grips about his feet and thighs held him still as he fought with his hands to open the ring and escape. The two men had left him there, clearly confident he would not.

Cold instruments, out of sight below, touched him everywhere. Whatever they were doing to him, they were taking their time. Sometimes it tickled, sometimes it pinched, sometimes it stung. Most alarming was the abrupt sense of confinement of his cock that had long lost its earlier eagerness. "What the hell?" he cried out, not expecting an answer, and not receiving one.

At long last, the grips eased, the ring opened, and Randy was able to pull himself out of the machine. His relief was short-lived. He stared in horror at the steel band that was tight about his waist, and at the fine mesh of chain mail that coated his legs from waist all the way to the tips of his toes. Like a pair of silvery fishnet tights, almost, but without the elasticity. His scrotum and cock protruded from the otherwise feminine garment, but as a confused arousal stirred within him, his hardening cock strained helplessly against the unyielding mesh.

"You bastards!" he cried out, grabbing at the diminished outline of his imprisoned cock, squeezing it, and quickly understanding that it would never be enough.

When he tried to stand, the mesh about his feet refused to let him stand flat, instead forcing him onto tiptoes. It was almost enough to bring him to tears, but he refused to cry. Randy was a man, damn it, and men didn't cry.

Suddenly fearing that the cruel mesh sealed him completely, he felt behind him with his hands - but no. There was an opening at the back, big enough for him to squeeze a hand through. He was almost able, with a little contorting, to reach far enough inside to touch his balls, but the garment was too skilfully designed.

Randy gave a soft cry of surprise. He was hairless down there! And not just there. The machine had removed all his hair from the waist down. Otherwise it would have been poking through the chain mail and no doubt catching it too.

He hated everything about it! So why was his cock still swollen? Why was there precum leaking through the links? (Would the metal get rusty? Would he have to pee through the chain mail too?)

The two brutes returned, one carrying a pair of pink leather ankle boots with studs on the platforms and chunky heels, the other carrying a white skirt made from layers of some gossamer-thin material. Unable to run, and recognising the futility of fighting, Randy acquiesced, allowing the one guard to fasten the shoes to his feet, and taking the skirt from the other.

The skirt slipped up his legs and smoothly into place, and even clipped to the belt. It was barely long enough to cover his bum. Randy was uncomfortably aware that not only did he look very feminine from the waist down, he looked almost slutty. He hadn't misheard the black woman. She had ordered 'femme mail' and referred to Randy as a 'she', and Randy had the sudden horrifying thought that maybe the hole at the back wasn't just to let stuff out. What if the two men who had just dressed him decided his ass was theirs for the taking? He doubted he could stop them if they tried.

They didn't try. They merely marched him back to the room he had awoken in and left him standing freely where his cage had been before.

There were fewer cages. A lot fewer. Jessica was gone. Kayla too. All the cheerleaders were gone. Some of his teammates too. Sammy was still there, though. "What the fuck, dude?"

Randy's cheeks were burning as he turned to face his friend. "I didn't choose this," he whined. His hands were free. He could have taken the skirt off, but what was the point? Revealing what had been done to him would be far worse than enduring the skirt.

No, far worse was seeing Sammy's cock stirring and twitching, as if there was anything sexy about Randy wearing a skirt. Sammy laughed nervously. "Sorry, dude."

Far worse still was the constriction of Randy's own cock as it swelled in response. He turned his back to Sammy and tried not to think about what any of that meant. Randy wasn't gay. He was pretty sure Sammy wasn't either. It was just a deeply strange situation.

"Where do you think we are?" Sammy asked.

Randy had been wondering the same thing for hours. "I'm pretty sure we're still on Earth," he said, "although who knows. Maybe a different dimension. Or the future, maybe."

Sammy snorted. "Evolution has made the men uglier and the women hotter."

There was no arguing with that. "Where did they take the girls?" he asked.

"I think I heard one of them say something about a farm."

The door opened and one of the brutes marched in - or perhaps a different one. He attached a leash to the front of Randy's collar and tugged firmly, pulling Randy obediently after. "Good luck," Sammy called after him, but Randy was too focussed on not tripping over his own feet in those horrible high-heeled boots to answer.

*

The vehicle that transported him had no windows to look out of. From the vibrations, it was sometimes very fast, sometimes slow, and never was there any hope of possible escape. After an hour, maybe two, it deposited him in a warehouse space, a wide but enclosed space of steel beams, machinery and leather seating.

A dozen women, perhaps more, could be seen, some at work, some relaxing. All were black women with voluptuous curves, but none were as divine as the one standing in front of him, her blue eyes glimmering with amusement. "I imagine you have questions," she said.

The abrupt surge of hope had Randy almost dizzy. "Yes!" he cried out in relief. "Where are we? Or when? And how did we get here?" More importantly, how could he get back? How could they all get back?

Blue Eyes laughed. "Yes, you're right. Welcome to your future. A future in which men are infertile, their cocks shrivelled, and our wombs will not bear children. We mine the past for women to breed our future, and if we catch the occasional... man, if indeed you merit such a description, then we use him for pleasure."

While she spoke, she unbuckled her leather corset, and it fell to the floor leaving her hypnotically beautiful breasts bare, close enough for him to reach out and touch, if he dared. Her areolae were huge and almost black, her nipples jutting out as if demanding to be sucked on. Randy's cock throbbed painfully beneath his skirt and his arms twitched as the need to free his cock fought against the reality that he would look ridiculous as he tried and failed to do so.

"I can tell I made the right choice," Blue Eyes said. "You're going to make a sweet, slutty girl for me to play with. Lift your skirt and show me your little clitty."

Caught between abject misery at his predicament and an aching arousal, humiliated by his feminine imprisonment and yet yearning to feel the weight of those gorgeous breasts and wrap his lips about those swollen nipples, Randy lifted the front of his skirt, revealing what little of his cock could be seen. It did almost look like a silver-meshed clitoris.

"Let me show you mine," Blue Eyes said, unbuckling her leather skirt. It fell to reveal not a clit but a semi-swollen cock. Even in its limp state it dwarfed Randy's when erect - not that his cock could get erect any longer.

Randy gaped as much in amazement as fear as that black cock stiffened in front of him. As it aimed at him. Slowly it dawned on him that he had been right about the purpose of the hole at his rear. He had just been wrong about who would demand its use. "Do you understand, my sweet?" she said. "Do you understand that your hands will serve me, and your mouth will worship me, and that you will be rubbing your little clitty as I fill your pussy the way only a real woman can?"

His legs gave way and he fell to his knees, an inelegant collapse that unfortunately brought him closer to the object of fascination. Unconsciously he rubbed his enmeshed cock as he stared at the monster that salivated in front of him. "I'll let you use your hands this time," Blue Eyes said, as if bestowing a kindness. "But if you shy away when I finish, if you do not look into my eyes like a good slut as I paint your face and chest, then I will not be gentle when I claim your virgin pussy."

Randy had never touched another man's cock, but Blue Eyes was no man, and Randy wasn't feeling much like one either. How strange it was that just hours earlier he had been dreaming of Kayla's lips wrapped about his cock, and now instead he was the one kneeling before a cock.

He wasn't gay! Randy wasn't gay! But... if he let himself pretend... that he was a girl, the girl that Blue Eyes wanted him to be... then... maybe...

Tentatively he raised his hands to the throbbing shaft, and found it startlingly warm. It seemed to pulse with power beneath his fingertips. Precum dripped from its fearful eye and he felt its slippery wetness. A girl, he said to himself. You're a girl. A slut who loves playing with cocks and getting facials. You can do this.

He did it. He coiled his hands about the shaft, worked it slowly, and stroke by stroke his fear and reluctance burned away. Not wholly, not yet, but he allowed himself to enjoy the experience, to accept that this was who he had to be for the moment. One day he would escape. One day he would find the others and find a way back to the twenty-first century, but for now he was a girl in a strange world, and worshipping an astonishing black cock was no great hardship.

He shuffled his hips restlessly in an attempt to excite his cock, his clitty, and did not pull away when Blue Eyes began thrusting her cock between his hands. He licked his lips when her precum splashed against his face, curious about the taste. He could tell she was getting close, but not how close until she ordered, "Look into my eyes, slut."

Fighting down a fresh wave of fear, Randy looked up between her round, beautiful breasts, into those blue eyes. And opened his mouth. Ready to receive her cum. One hand worked her cock with enthusiasm, the other rubbed desperately at his clitty, and Blue Eyes moaned lustfully as she met his obedient gaze. She gripped her cock to hold it steady as cum burst out into his mouth.

There was so much of it! The first three huge spurts jetted between his wide open lips, and then she directed her aim at his cheeks, first one, then the other. She aimed down at his chest, cream striping across his nipples, and as the flow finally eased, she returned her cock to his lips to add a last dribble of cum to the mess already there.

"Swallow," she said, "like a good slut."

And he did. It wasn't easy to get it down - not because of the taste, which was unusual but not unpleasant, but because of its syrupy consistency. Some escaped from his mouth in the attempt, but Blue Eyes scooped it up with a finger and fed it back to him, and he sucked her fingers clean while his own fingers rubbed at his still aching, swollen clit.