Femme Mail Ch. 02: Makeover

"Mount up, girlie," Blue said, patting the seat behind her. "Let's go get you something proper to wear."

Blue was an attractive woman, despite being old enough to be Randy's mother and more muscular than he liked women to be. Taller and more muscular than himself, and Randy was a star athlete back home, used to being admired. Even her cock dwarfed Randy's own. Everything about her made him feel diminished as a man.

He had been abducted into the future, into a world where, it seemed, men were ugly, dickless brutes and women were futas, gorgeously curved and sexually voracious. He had been collared and stripped, and put in a cage, one of many in a long row, the others containing his teammates, the cheerleaders, presumably the team coaches and the bus driver too.

Thinking about it stirred a guilty anger. Randy should have fought harder! Although it wasn't clear how fighting would have changed anything. He would still be exactly where he was, the women would still have been taken to the breeding farm, and God only knew where the others had ended up.

Only hours before, they had been heading home after a dismal game, in dismal weather. Randy had been looking forward to a party where he had hoped to finally get into Kayla's panties. Now Randy didn't know whether he'd ever see her again - or, indeed, whether he'd ever see his own cock again.

He straddled the bike behind Blue, his hands gripping her leather-clad hips for support. He wanted to hate her for what she had done to him, what she wanted to do to him, but everything about her excited him sexually: her huge breasts, her gorgeous ass, her smell...

She was warm too. Randy was bare from the waist up, and once outside the warehouse where Blue's crew seemed to live, there was a chill in the air that made him glad of Blue's close proximity. He wasn't much better dressed below the waist: the short skirt was no protection at all as its gossamer layers fluttered around him, and from a distance the chain mail coating his legs would have the appearance of silvery tights, and offered about as much protection from the cold.

The skirt and tights, and the pink ankle boots he hated having to walk in, all added to his emasculation, but the worst of it was the way the chain mail confined his cock and balls. They made a bulge that he could rub, but there was no way to access his most intimate parts, no way to achieve orgasm. He couldn't even get erect! Whenever he grew aroused, his cock strained against the mesh, but no amount of rubbing achieved the end he craved.

On the bike, pressed against Blue's back, he was aroused again. It confused him. Randy had just had his whole world torn away. His team, his girlfriend, all of them were in deep, impossible trouble. He himself had been bought as a sex slave and forcibly feminised. Or half feminised, anyway. But despite all that, he was aroused again. Earlier he had had Blue's cock in his hands, and instead of fighting to keep his dignity, he had surrendered to the role she demanded of him. He had even opened his mouth willingly, and swallowed on command.

Randy wasn't gay. He wasn't a woman. So why did being treated in this humiliating way excite him so much?

Three bikes set out from the warehouse. Like Blue, Jade and Cutie were muscular black women with voluptuous curves. Both wore red leather, as indeed did all the women in the crew. Clearly some sort of uniform. Jade was perhaps a little younger than Blue; Cutie wasn't much older than Randy. Jade's black hair was styled like Blue's into a mohawk and braided ponytail; Cutie's blonde hair was braided into pigtails. Blue wore a pair of pistols at her sides; the others carried rifles.

Randy's hands itched to take Blue's pistols for himself, to make a run for it. The idea was stupid, though. He could hardly walk in his high heels, let alone run. Maybe if he could get a bike too... but he had no idea where to go, and anyway guessed the collar would stop him quickly.

So he left the guns alone and studied the bikes, and studied the world outside the warehouse. One day he would run, and he would need to know everything he could.

He was grateful at least that there had been an opportunity to clean up first.

Randy had been on his knees, rubbing his swollen, aching cock through the cruel chain mail that was slick with his precum as he examined the cock that his hands had just brought to a climax. The taste and texture of its cum lingered in his mouth. The smell of it wrapped around him like an aura; his cheeks were wet with cum, his chest too.

Outside of some extreme porn, he had never seen such a cock. Long, black, veined and worryingly thick. A woman having a cock seemed wrong to him; a woman having a cock that would put all men to shame seemed doubly wrong... but it had an almost magnetic beauty.

Randy had never imagined he would ever touch another man's cock, but this cock belonged to no man. He had never imagined he would ever suck another man's cock, but this one, no doubt, would soon be pressing between his lips, and the thought of it stirred a guilty desire.

He glanced up at her, up at her full, beautiful breasts, and between them up into her blue eyes. "The name's Blue," she said, "but you get to call me 'Mistress'."

Randy had no desire to call anyone Mistress, but he followed obediently as she took him on a brief tour of the warehouse that would be his new home. "You can sleep there," Blue said, pointing to a large leather cushion in one corner of the warehouse. "Toilet in there. Showers next to it. Food over there, help yourself. Stay indoors - it's not safe outside, and the collar won't let you leave anyway."

The toilet turned out to be a hole in the ground, and by the sound and stink of it there was a sewer running beneath. Randy regarded the hole with consternation. For a man - or, he guessed, a futa - aiming a stream of pee into such a hole would be straightforward, but Randy had no way to free his cock, no way to aim it. He tried anyway to do it standing, his feet planted either side of the hole, and with patience and an effort of will managed to let go -

It was a mess! His urine ran down his legs and splashed around his feet.

With a cry of misery, he abandoned the effort and squatted down, his crotch hovering awkwardly over the hole as pee gushed out through the accursed chain mail. It was one humiliation too many, made worse by the tears that filled his eyes suddenly, uncontrollably, wetting cheeks that were already wet with cum.

Randy stumbled through to the showers, and beneath the hot, cleansing flow he faced the existential horror of his new reality. He had been abducted into some dystopian future Earth, along with his whole team. His parents, his brother, expected him home hours ago and would be worried sick - except, if that was the past, maybe there was no going back. Maybe the bus had vanished one rainy afternoon and the town had been left devastated by the loss.

He felt desperately alone. No family to comfort him. No friends to talk to, to plan with; no doubt they had been enslaved too for someone's pleasure. The cheerleaders, Kayla too, had been taken to some 'farm' to be breeders for future humans, a fate even more horrifying than his own.

*

The warehouse was situated amidst a wasteland of trash, burned out cars and dilapidated warehouses. No greenery. No busy roads. No people. The roads themselves were torn and cracked. The setting sun reflected from scattered pools of water from recent rain, and there was no telling how deep the pools might be.

The three bikes weaved confidently but warily between the pools and around the many obstacles. With his limited view of the road ahead, Randy was forced to trust in Blue and to mimic her shifting posture in anticipation of manoeuvres.

Beneath him, the bike itself was whisper quiet, only the noise of rubber against the ground. Electric drive, he assumed. It lacked the throaty growl a bike should have, but the performance was certainly there. When the warehouses eventually gave way to an elevated highway, one that was well maintained, the bikes accelerated swiftly to a fearsome speed, and Randy hugged Blue tightly, holding on for dear life.

Scattered throughout the barren land were high-walled compounds. Some held gardens and mansions; most looked more industrial. Here and there were the scattered remains of a forgotten suburbia, like the ghost of the world he had been stolen from.

And ahead of them, a city of tall buildings, the tips of high skyscrapers gleaming in sunlight, the roads below cloaked in deep shadow. The bikes reached the city even as the last reflections of the sun extinguished, and decelerated into a world of advertisements for pleasures and services.

Muscular men gathered in gangs like packs of ogres, scowling and laughing, drinking and fighting, the latter usually with fists but there were plenty of knives and guns in evidence. Tall, voluptuous women walked the streets, some in business suits, some dressed for leather, many clearly on the prowl for sex.

Blue's trio of bikes turned off the main street into deeper shadow and soon pulled up outside a nondescript door from which music escaped, guitars and a drum, at once familiar and entirely not. "Off, sweetheart," she said, and Randy dismounted, his legs shaking.

"I have a client to see," Blue said. "Cutie, my slut needs a makeover. I trust you. Jade, watch the bikes." Blowing Randy a kiss, she turned and walked off.

Jade lit a cigarette. "Don't be forever," she said to Cutie, who just laughed.

Cutie tugged Randy after her through a double set of doors into a brightly lit clothes boutique. "Welcome to Star City's most exclusive hair and beauty salon," she said, "and there is the salon's insatiable owner." The music was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the distinctive, rhythmic thumping of flesh against flesh. "Hi, Cora."

"Be with you in a minute," the woman - Cora - said without pausing. She was Asian, possibly Japanese, with short, black hair and multiple piercings in her ears, above her eyes, through her lips, everywhere. She was wearing only black ankle boots and a black leather bra that shaped her tits into two huge spheres, and her cock was ramming hard and deep into a man's ass.

"I don't know why you're wasting your time with him when I'm right here," Cutie said airily, "but you take your time."

The muscular brute was naked and bent over a table that creaked under the weight and the heavy pounding, and dripping cum from between his legs was a cock so short only the tip was visible to Randy. The man scowled at the sight of the intruders, but was clearly enjoying himself too much to care. Watching Cora fucking openly and with such wild abandon had Randy's cock swelling again, straining against the chain mail.

Cora chuckled. "No need to be jealous, Cutie. I'll have plenty left for you."

"Take your time," Cutie repeated. "Can we use the hair machine?"

"Go right ahead. This honey begged so sweetly for a fucking. I don't want to disappoint."

The hair machine looked vaguely like a tanning bed, or a coffin. Randy hesitated to approach it, remembering what the last strange machine had done to him.

"I know it's not fair," Cutie said. "I know you didn't ask for any of this, and you're probably waiting for the first chance you get to escape us, to find your way back home. And maybe one day you'll succeed. But trust me when I say this: you're lucky it was Blue who bought you. There are a thousand worse fates than yours, and none better. For your own sake, don't make her regret choosing you."

There was kindness in Cutie's eyes, but nothing to suggest she would help him to escape Blue. "What will it do to me?" he asked, indicating the machine.

Cutie grinned. "Oh, nothing terrible. Just remove a little hair." She ran her fingertips across his chest, teasing his chest hair. "And add some." She brushed her fingers through the hair above his left ear. "Blue likes long hair, but I'll let you pick the colour."

"Blond," he insisted, unhappy at the thought of long hair and certainly not wanting a change of colour.

"Like mine," Cutie murmured, "but I do think it needs a little something extra. Come on, lie down."

Fighting down the panic that had been bubbling within him for hours, Randy did as asked, and soon was enclosed in the tight, dimly lit space. The machine hummed around him, unseen instruments tickling him all over. His scalp itched like crazy. Just as the panic broke through, as he took a breath to scream, the air filled with some sweet smelling gas, and -

He awoke, blinking up at the ceiling of the shop. He was still in the machine but the lid was open again. The machine had clearly finished its work. The sound of fucking, flesh against flesh, continued. Groggily, he peered around. There was no sign of the man, but in his place, bent over the creaking table, was Cutie. Naked. Her huge, hard cock bouncing in reaction to Cora's vigorous thrusting.

Randy sat up abruptly, his hands going straight to his head, feeling long tresses that weighed heavily. There was a mirror opposite, letting him see himself with wavy blonde hair cascading over his shoulders. Not entirely blonde, however. There was one lock of hair that was a vibrant, primary blue.

Cora paused, her cock still embedded in Cutie's cunt - or possibly her ass; Randy couldn't see from where he sat. "It's synthetic, of course," she said, "but your actual hair will grow out in these colours in future. How do you like it?"

Randy scowled at his reflection. The hair was a nuisance, but it was absence of hair elsewhere that bothered him. The shadow of his beard was gone, his armpits denuded, and his chest was bare. "I look stupid," he said glumly.

Cora abandoned Cutie, who whined in wordless complaint, and walked over behind him. "Let's see if we can fix that," she said. "As Cutie said, this salon is exclusive." She pulled his hair back into a ponytail, binding it with a bobble, leaving a few stray locks to frame his face. "Exclusive," she added, "to bikers like Cutie here and lost little girls like you. No suits in here."

Cutie smirked as she joined them. "I think it's pretty. She could use some lipstick."

Cora handed her a silver tube. "Use this."

Cutie took the tube from her and, ignoring his fierce glare, brushed it over Randy's lips, making them tingle with electricity. It wasn't like ordinary lipstick. It wasn't wax or paint or whatever. It created a glossy coating that was more than skin deep. The tingling became an uncomfortable stiffness that slowly eased, leaving his lips visibly swollen.

"Perfect," Cutie said, studying her work. "Let's try red." She picked up a small cube, twisted it almost like a Rubik's cube, and touched it to Randy's mouth. Within seconds, his lips turned an intense red, and Cutie nodded. "Yes. Definitely."

Randy was both impressed and dismayed. He was impressed by the technology of this future world: the quiet speed of the electric bikes, machines that could remove and grow hair in minutes, lipstick that changed colour on command... He was curious despite himself to see more.

And dismayed because he himself was ever more the victim of it. The figure in the mirror was almost unrecognisable as himself. Should any of his teammates see him now, they would have to look closely to see through his increasingly feminine guise.

"Try these on," Cora said, handing Randy two red leather garments and matching boots. He glowered angrily at the boots. Knee-high with thick platforms and high stiletto heels. The only good thing about them was they weren't pink.

They did fit well, however, and the extra height brought him almost eye-to-eye with Cutie, who was almost as tall as Blue. But the sharp heels were dangerous, and he struggled to stand in them, let alone walk.

Cora, meanwhile, was kissing Cutie, passionately, their breasts pressed gorgeously together, their rigid cocks rubbing together, almost duelling. She glanced briefly at Randy. "The rest of it too," she said.

One garment was a jacket with long sleeves and single buckle at the front, reaching only as far down as his navel. The other was a pleated skirt that wasn't any longer than the one he'd worn before, but this one had a high waist with corset lacing at the back. "Mmm, sexy," Cutie said, stroking her hard, visible cock as Cora tightened the laces, cinching Randy's waist.

And... it looked good. It wasn't anything that Randy would ever choose to wear, but it did look good. Not that he would ever admit that.

"It's not real leather, of course," Cora said. "It's much easier to look after, and will last a lot longer."

"Go keep Jade company," Cutie said, dropping to her knees, bringing her lips to her lover's cock. "Cora and I have a little catching up to do."

Outside, Jade whistled her appreciation. Randy experienced a thrill of pleasure - which lasted maybe a whole second, until he remembered he wasn't supposed to like being a girl, no matter how pretty or sexy they made him.

Blue wasn't back yet, Cutie was in no hurry, and Jade seemed uninterested in talking with him, so Randy paced back and forth, killing time by practising walking in his new heels. The boots fit well, but they put even more strain on his calf muscles that were unused to it.

His ponytail bounced behind his head, an unfamiliar and distracting presence, but not an unpleasant one. His lips were more of a distraction, feeling swollen and oddly textured, and of course the restless stirring of his cock was an unscratchable itch.

How would Blue react to him in his new clothes, with his new hair and hairlessness, with his red, swollen lips? She had allowed him to use his hands earlier, but how soon before she demanded more? How soon before her cock was pressing between his lips - and why didn't that image horrify him?

With a quiet moan, uncaring that Jade could hear him, could see him, he leaned against the wall and rubbed his cock through chain mail that was wet with precum. It achieved nothing but to keep him aroused, but he needed to try.

It was a relief when Blue finally returned. She looked him up and down, nodded approval, and mounted her bike, patting the seat behind her. "Get out here, Cutie!" she yelled as he climbed on behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist.

Blue shifted his right hand to beneath her skirt, to her semi-erect cock, and hit the accelerator. The whole way back to the warehouse through the dark night, her cock was in his hand, hard and throbbing, leaking precum, and Randy felt a strange affection for it as he gripped it tight.

*

Dinner was a bowl of pasta ladled from a huge pot that simmered over an industrial furnace. The pasta didn't taste quite like pasta, the sauce was unfamiliar and unappetising, but it was the first thing he'd eaten since the abduction, and the first substantial food since the morning before the game. A mouthful of cum certainly did not count as sustenance.

Blue had handed him a towel and toothbrush during the tour of the warehouse earlier. Despite brushing his teeth thoroughly, the taste of Blue's cum had lingered in his mouth for hours. Then, on returning to the warehouse after the ride to Star City, Blue had inspected him in the light, nodding her approval of his new red faux-leather outfit. "Much better," she said, "and I do like this." She freed his long, synthetic hair from its ponytail and teased out the lock of blue. "And those lips..."

She laughed, her fingertips touching his lips lightly. "Such a tease. I can't wait to see those lips wrapped about my cock."

Randy, instinctively, tried to retreat from her, but Blue pulled him close, her hand finding its way beneath his skirt. Her fingers teased his cock through the mesh. "My sweet little slut is wet," she murmured.

Randy whimpered, the humiliation acute. He knew how the precum leaking from his cock made the chain mail slippery down there, and Blue was determined to treat him like a girl. "You were a very obedient slut earlier, weren't you?"

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Her fingers were exciting him, and his hips were pressing back against her, almost with a mind of their own. "Let me hear you say it," she insisted. "Say, 'Yes, Mistress.' Say, 'I'm your obedient slut, Mistress.' Say it like you really mean it."

Randy quailed inside. It was already bad that she had him acting like a slut. It wasn't fair to make him say it too. "Or I can punish you for being a naughty girl instead," she murmured.

He shook his head hurriedly, his long hair following the movement like a caress. "Yes, Mistress," he said quickly. "I'm your obedient slut, Mistress." It almost broke him to say it. It almost brought him to tears once more.

"Say it again, and tell me how you love it when I rub your little clitty."

"I'm your obedient slut, Mistress," he said, yielding to the inevitable. "I love when you rub my clitty, Mistress."

"Good girl," she said warmly. "Now suck your fingers for me."

He did as ordered, remembering only as the smell hit him that his hand had been wrapped about Blue's cock the whole ride home. His hand smelled of her cock. His fingers tasted of her precum. He wanted to hate it, but this fresh humiliation only added to his arousal. He made a seductive show of sucking on his fingers with his red, swollen lips, while thrusting his captive cock against her hand in a futile effort to feel something more than pressure.

"Can't you take it off?" he dared to ask. To beg. "Please, Mistress?"

Blue shook her head firmly. "I like knowing your clitty is wet. You are my sweet little slut. My girl. In fact..." She laughed. "That will be your name from now on: Girl. To remind you always of what you are."

"But I'm not!" he cried.

Blue shrugged. "As long as you are mine, you'll answer to 'Girl', and behave appropriately. Now say, 'Yes, Mistress.'"

He glared at her for a good few seconds, annoyed with himself for how achingly desperate he was for her to touch him again, and gave in with a whine of frustration. "Yes, Mistress."

She lifted his chin so that he was looking into her eyes. "And what is your name?"

Randy surrendered with a sigh. "Girl, Mistress."

"Good girl," she said with a mischievous smile. "Let's go eat dinner; I'm impatient for dessert."

Blue studied him in silence while she wolfed down the pasta with gusto. Randy was too hungry not to finish his own helping, but found little pleasure in it. Being observed like this made him anxious, but that didn't prevent his cock from throbbing urgently. The smell of Blue, the knowledge of what she would make him do, was keeping him almost painfully aroused.

Bowls empty and put away, she leaned close. "I think it's time to introduce you to everyone. Are you ready to have some fun?"

The voice in his head that still tried to deny that he was a girl and a slut was getting easier and easier to ignore. His body was desperately in need of a physical stimulation that was cruelly denied it, and none of the old rules and moralities applied in this future place. Randy nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

Blue fastened a leash to Randy's collar and tugged him gently after her, over and up onto a welding bench. The bench was thick steel with numerous holes that Randy's stiletto heels could easily fall into, forcing him to watch carefully how he stood.

"Ladies!" Blue called out, getting the attention of all her crew in the warehouse. Randy counted eighteen in all, plus Blue, all of them gorgeously curved black women, all no doubt possessing thick cocks beneath their red leather skirts. As they gathered around the table, several sneaked peeks beneath his own red leather skirt, smirking at the sight of his own lesser cock within its prison of chain mail. Randy could feel the burn of embarrassment in his cheeks, but that only intensified the throbbing need of his enmeshed cock.

"Ladies," Blue repeated, "say hey to my slut. Her name is Girl."

"Hey, Girl," they all chorused. Cutie smiled at him in a friendly way, and winked.

"Girl is one of the crew now," Blue said, "and I expect you all to be nice to her, just as I expect Girl to be very generous with her sweet, sexy lips." She startled Randy by kissing him suddenly, her lips soft and warm against his, her tongue pressing possessively into his mouth.

Randy was used to girls wanting to kiss him. Blue was no girl - she was old enough to be his mother - but she was a very attractive woman. A woman with a cock, true. A woman who was keeping him as her slave and forcing him to dress and act like a girl... but still a woman. The kiss was a surprise, then a pleasure, then a shock, all in the space of three heartbeats.

Be very generous with...

The words echoed in his thoughts. Their significance crystallised. It wasn't just Blue's cock he would be sucking. There were eighteen other women here with demanding cocks. Randy flinched backwards - and nearly fell as a heel dropped into a hole.

Blue caught him and steadied him. "But not your pussy," she said loudly. "Your pussy is all mine. Understand, Girl?"

Randy wasn't a girl. He didn't have a pussy. But he knew exactly what she meant. Everyone knew. The chain mail that so effectively denied him his cock, denied everyone his cock, had an opening that made his ass available. By Blue's perverse, whimsical command, the femme mail made his cock into his clitty - and his ass into his pussy.

It was absurd to call his ass a pussy. It was obscene! But... there was some small mercy in her claiming it for herself. Randy's ass would be wrecked, literally and very quickly, if it had to service nineteen huge futa cocks; one was quite bad enough.

Blue was waiting for an answer, and there was only one to give. Whether he meant it or not. "Yes, Mistress."

"Clothes off, Girl," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," he said again. It was worrying just how easy it was becoming to say those words. It was even more worrying that he was getting used to being called a girl.

Candy had said earlier that he was lucky to have Blue as a mistress. What did that mean for his teammates? What cruel indignities were they enduring? If they could see him now, dressed as a girl, with nineteen horny futa women lusting over him, would they be appalled? Or envious?

And what of Kayla? Would he ever see her again? What if he did, but she saw only a slutty pretend-girl when she looked at him?

He removed first the jacket, then the skirt, placing his heels with caution. The chain mail at his crotch gleamed wetly, proof of his arousal. Blue's arousal was unmistakable. She too had undressed and her huge cock jutted out and up proudly.

"Suck it, slut," Jade said, causing a ripple of laughter.

Blue stepped close to him, the wet tip of her cock pressing against his belly, and brought his head down her right breast, his mouth to her nipple, and with a moan of pure lust he sucked on it, his hands taking the beautiful, black globe of flesh and squeezing it, massaging it. He licked and sucked as if it might be possible to draw milk -

"Suck her cock, Girl," someone else called, and it turned into a chant, a whole chorus: "Suck her cock! Suck her cock!"

Blue laughed as she ran her fingers through Randy's long, blonde hair. "Wrap those pretty lips about my cock, Girl."

Randy was used to being cheered on by adoring crowds, but not like this. Where was the pride in dressing like a girl? Where was the pride in acting like a slut? Where was the pride in having his cock turned into a useless clitty while women with huge cocks salivated at the thought of fucking his mouth?

"Suck her cock! Suck her cock!"

How long had it been since the bus? Had it even been a whole day yet? How had it taken so little time to transform him from a star athlete into a submissive cumslut?

"You can do it, Girl," Cutie called out.

Never in his whole life had he been so desperate to fuck. So desperate for sex. For any kind of sex. He lowered himself to his knees on the hard steel surface, his face level with Blue's pornworthy cock. It was almost a blessing that his own cock was sealed from view. In this future world, his cock would seem tiny by comparison to the futa cocks sported by the women.

Blue's cock was growing familiar. He had worked it to a climax earlier with his hands. He had held it in his hand on the bike, enjoying the sense of power in its weight and girth, in its pulsing heat. It was a thrill to hold it in his hands again, to feel the thick veins beneath the smooth, sensitive skin. There was no foreskin to tease - he wondered whether she'd been circumcised or whether all futa cocks were like this.

"Suck her cock! Suck her cock!"

Precum oozed from the tip, and impulsively he leaned forward to catch it, sucking briefly on the huge head of her cock, his tongue dipping into the hole. The girth of her cock was such that he wondered whether he could fit any of it into his mouth. The smell of her cock was growing familiar too. Raw. Intoxicating. With one inadequate hand he stroked the shaft; the other searched between her thighs. Where a man would have balls, Blue had none, only soft, wet lips that his fingers explored and delved between.

Her hand twisted in his hair, gripping it tightly, bringing him closer, bringing his lips to her urgent cock. Randy opened willingly, allowing her to push into his mouth. To push the whole, soft, bulbous head of her cock into his mouth. There was no way it could penetrate deeper. He looked up obediently into her blue eyes as he worked her shaft with both hands.

"Suck her cock! Suck her cock!"

He tried. He tried to swallow the precum that almost choked him. He could feel it dripping from his chin as he stroked her amazing cock with his hands.

Laughing, she took pity on him and pushed him away from her. "You need a lot of practice if you want to make me come that way." Randy winced at the implied criticism, but Blue did not seem upset. "Don't worry, girlie. You're going to get plenty of practice."

"Me first!" Cutie shouted, hand raised excitedly.

"Just remember, Girl," Blue said, her voice stern. "Who does your pussy belong to?"

"You, Mistress," he said quickly.

"Good girl," she said, and patted his cheek affectionately. "If you can make her come, I'll let you play with my tits tonight."

Randy smiled with genuine delight. "Yes, Mistress."