Todd came to a stop at the intersection in his fusion red Tesla Roadster, as usual enjoying the looks the car received from pedestrians and other drivers, especially with his blonde, busty wife Jessica in the passenger seat. Some might suspect Todd of overcompensating for the bullying he had suffered as a teenager through the conspicuous consumption he had displayed since making his modest internet startup public. Jessica certainly had no objection to their home in the Los Altos hills or their country club membership or their trips to Dubai and the Maldives. A woman like her would never have even looked at soft, nebbish Todd, let alone married him, prior to his financial windfall. Now, however, Todd believed that he had it all, and he did not mind showing it off.
When a tricked out blue velvet Chevy Impala pulled up on Todd's right at the stoplight, revving its engines, both he and Jessica turned to see a hard-muscled, heavily-tattooed, brown arm hanging casually out the Impala's window. The driver—a young black man with long beaded cornrows—flashed a shiny gold grill as he appraised Todd's car and Todd's wife with an approving nod. As usual, Jessica enjoyed the attention of any confident, self-assured man, and smiled back invitingly. Catching Todd's eye, the young black man nodded down the road, and revved his engine again.
"Oh! Todd, sweetie," Jessica said in a high-pitched titter. "I think he wants to race you!"
Todd considered the Impala with some disdain. "In that heap?" he replied snidely. "What would be the point? This beauty can go zero to sixty in 1.1 seconds, you know."
Jessica looked from the Impala's driver to Todd. "Well, I know you always say that," she scolded. "But now's your chance to actually prove it."
As if on cue, the young black man revved the Impala's engine again. Todd locked eyes with the smirking black man, and gripped the wheel in his leather-gloved hands. The instant the light changed to green, Todd floored the pedal, accelerating more quickly than he had ever even attempted before. The wind whipping her hair through the open window, Jessica giggled mischievously when she noticed that rather than race Todd, the Impala had casually taken a simple right turn and driven off. Before Todd had the chance to realize he had been pranked, he heard sirens blare behind him.
"Oh, damn," he whined.
Todd pulled over to the side of the road, feeling a line of sweat break out on his forehead. The cost of a ticket meant little to him, of course, but seeing the dark blue of the officer's uniform move toward him in the side mirror nevertheless caused him inexplicable anxiety.
"License and registration, please, sir," he heard the officer's deep, commanding bass voice at his window. Todd looked up nervously at the unsmiling face of a hulking, black officer, whose eyes were hidden by mirrored sunglasses.
"Of course, officer," Todd started, feeling for his wallet. "I have, uh, well, I mean...Oh! I...I must have left my billfold at home. I don't know what I was thinking."
The officer sighed. "Just a minute, sir," he said, sauntering back to his patrol car.
"You forgot your license?" Jessica asked incredulously. "Well, really, Todd, it's not like he's going to lock you up for that? Stand up for yourself? I mean, you pay his salary, right?"
Todd steeled himself. Jessica had a point: with the taxes he paid, he probably supported the whole damn force! Todd climbed out of his car and started toward the officer. “Uh, excuse me,” he started.
"Sir," the heavily built black officer instructed, "please return to your vehicle. Now."
Todd ignored him with a child’s petulance. "Look, I just want to be clear, none of this is my..."
"Sir!" the officer repeated, his hand hovering above his holstered sidearm. "I said, wait in your vehicle!"
Todd began to protest, but before another word could escape his lips, the officer, several inches taller than Todd's diminutive five feet, five inches of height, had grabbed Todd by one scrawny arm, twisted it behind his back, and forced him over the rear of the Tesla.
"Oof! Now wait just a moment," Todd sputtered, as he struggled vainly against the officer's thickly corded forearm, tight in the short-sleeve of his blue uniform. "You don't know, ugh, who you're, uhn, dealing with," Todd exclaimed as he wiggled uselessly.
Jessica watched the entire episode in the rearview mirror, biting her lip and trying to suppress a giggle at her husband's helplessness. "Did he really just say that?" she tittered to herself. The curvaceous blonde found that she rather enjoyed seeing her timid, ineffectual husband put in his place by the large hulk of a black man.
"Sir, I told you to remain in your vehicle," the officer explained. "Now, are you going to calm down so I can proceed with my job?"
"Get off me you, you big goon!" shouted Todd, continuing to resist the officer’s instructions, his voice higher-pitched than he would have liked.
"Very well, sir," the black office replied, reaching for the handcuffs at his belt. "I am placing you under arrest for obstruction of an officer in the course of his duties, as well as various traffic violations."
Todd continued to wriggle as his hands were cuffed behind him. The officer stood him up and placed him in the backseat of his patrol car, even as Todd continued spouting threats. "You're making a big mistake, fella! I'll have your badge for this!"
With Todd secured, the officer approached Jessica at the passenger side window. "Ma'am," he said, "I'm sorry about this...ugliness."
Jessica leaned out the window, her heavy breasts pressed against the car door. "Oh, no need to apologize, officer. I'm afraid my husband was being quite unreasonable. You really had no choice, did you?" Jessica observed the bulge in the crotch of the officer's tight slacks as he took in her inviting cleavage.
"Are you...okay to drive yourself home, ma'am?" he inquired, placing his large, black hands on the window frame, casually brushing Jessica's erect nipples through the fabric.
Jessica bit her lower lip. "I really don’t know, officer. This whole episode has been so upsetting...maybe you should follow me to make sure I don't have an…accident."
The patrol car tailed Jessica to their house in the Los Altos hills. She rarely drove the Tesla, and found she enjoyed its power, as well as the envious looks of passersby even in this most wealthy of neighborhoods, as much as her husband always did. During the drive, Todd continued to rail against the police officer. "What's your badge number, buddy? You can look forward to being a mall cop, by the time my lawyer is through with you! Where are we going? That's my house? What are we doing here?"
Jessica opened the electronic gate automatically and motioned for the patrol car to follow her into the circular driveway. The officer exited his car, leaving Todd alone, handcuffed in the backseat. The patrol car’s rear doors, he observed with frustration, had no interior handles. Todd watched helplessly as the officer joined Jessica on the front stoop of their home. Jessica didn't spare even a backward glance for her husband as she ushered the officer through the front door.
A half hour later, the officer returned to the patrol car, contentedly adjusting his belt. Jessica was nowhere to be seen. "What took so long," Todd wailed. "Where's my wife? What were you doing? You had no right to, to be in my house! My home!"
"Just needed to ensure that your wife got home safely, sir," the officer replied, turning to Todd with a wide grin as he pulled out of the drive. "Your behavior this afternoon has left her quite upset. She had a lot of...questions about…procedures." Pulling out on the street, the officer radioed in his location, and said he was bringing in a 23109 and a 12500a. Todd grumbled futilely in the backseat.
At the station, Todd used his one call to ask Jessica to contact his lawyer to post bail as soon as possible. "By the way," he asked, "what did that cop want in our house? He didn't try anything, did he? Why did you let him in?"
“Relax, Todd,” Jessica assured him. “Marcus was a perfect gentleman. Very sweet, actually. I don’t know why you had to give him such a difficult time.”
“Marcus? You’re on a first name basis with the goon who arrested me?”
“Time’s up, sir,” the desk sergeant told him.
Todd nodded and held up a finger, continuing to grill his wife about her encounter with this “Marcus” person. After another minute, the sergeant pressed a finger against the receiver and took the phone from Todd’s hand.
“I hate repeating myself, sir. It is time to take you to the holding cell until bail is set.”
Cell? thought Todd to himself. What kind of degenerates do I have to share a cell with? “Uh, can’t I just…wait here,” Todd suggested. “It shouldn’t be long, and I promise to be stay out of the way.”
“Regulations, sir,” he replied. “Please, this way.”
The holding cell was crowded with unsavory characters, as rowdy as they were rough. A couple of them leered at Todd in his dress slacks, blazer, and apricot-colored polo shirt with unsettling interest. A single toilet sat in a corner of the unadorned cell, and a tall, burly black man in a white tank top and low hanging jeans stood before it unabashedly taking a leak. He turned toward Todd with a sneer as he shook the remaining drops of piss from an obscenely large, flaccid penis, before stuffing it back in the fly of his jeans. Several of the other men guffawed as Todd flushed a deep crimson.
With an unmistakable bulge at his crotch, the man with the behemoth of a penis approached Todd, some of the other men close behind him. “Pretty as a girl,” one muttered. “Look at that fine white ass,” admired another. “I likes them there puffy lips,” opined a third. Black fingers tweaked Todd’s rosy nipples beneath his polo as he was crowded into a corner of the cell. The musky odor of the predatory men surrounding the lithe, timid Todd, overwhelmed him, leaving him dizzy and bewildered.
“Worthington!” a guard’s voice called out. “Todd Worthington!” Todd squeezed through the sea of sweaty muscle, raising a hand as if he had been called by a grade school teacher.
“Me! That’s me! Right here!”
The guard examined him with barely concealed contempt. “Your lawyer’s here,” he informed the shaken Todd, unlocking the cell. “Follow me.”
Two weeks later, Todd sat in the courtroom, accompanied by his wife and his lawyer. His lawyer had complained that his field was tax law, and that he could have recommended a criminal defender, but Todd considered the charges a mere nuisance and imagined that he would be in and out of the courtroom with a small fine at most. When he observed, however, that the judge was a black woman, Todd worried that a privileged white defendant such as himself might face some undeserved prejudice from the court, especially since the arresting officer, who was present in the court, was also black.
“What are you doing?” Todd asked Jessica, when he noticed her discreetly waving her fingers at the black officer, Marcus, who had so casually man-handled and arrested him.
“Calm down, honey,” his wife reassured him. “It can’t hurt to be friendly.” Jessica’s friendliness didn’t seem to help Todd any, however, when Marcus was examined by the prosecutor. He described Todd’s attitude on the day of his arrest as uncooperative, hostile, and condescending. “To be honest,” he explained, “he acted as if the law didn’t apply to him.” Video from Marcus’ shoulder cam was offered into evidence. Todd winced hearing his own high-pitched petulant voice during the encounter by the roadside.
“I hope you’re not going to let them railroad you like this, sweetie,” Jessica whispered in her husband’s ear. “You did absolutely nothing wrong.”
When Todd took the stand, he tried to explain that it was all a misunderstanding, that he had simply been goaded into street racing by another driver. “Excuse me,” interrupted the judge, “but do you really think that you are helping yourself by admitting to drag racing on a public street?” Todd gulped, and looked toward Jessica for moral support, but she was busy waving at Marcus, who sat in the back of the courtroom smiling back at the vivacious blonde.
After an hour’s deliberation, the judge called everyone back into the courtroom.
“Given the severity of your actions, Mr. Worthington, your rather cavalier attitude toward a potentially very dangerous activity, and your unwarranted disrespect for an officer of the law in the performance of his duty, the Court is fining you $15,000. Given your resources, the Court realizes that this is not a particularly onerous punishment, so we will also be requiring you to attend not less than twelve hours of traffic school, as well as perform one-hundred hours of community service to be approved by an officer of the court.”
Todd’s mouth hung agape in a simmering stupor. “But, but, but,” he stammered.
The judge looked up from her desk. “I’m sorry. Do you have something to add, Mr. Worthington?” she asked sternly.
Todd’s lawyer stood up quickly. “No, your honor. My client understands the Court’s decision and will comply with the ruling. Thank you, your honor.” Turning to Todd, he hissed, “Damn it, Todd! I told you! I’m just a goddamn tax lawyer!”
First Week:
The supervisor handed out yellow and orange safety vests to the road crew before they boarded the short bus. Todd took his gingerly, wanting to ask if they'd been washed and sanitized, but fearful that such prissiness would only result in mockery from the five other men sentenced to community service with him.
Taking a seat near the front of the bus, Todd kept his head down, hoping that the others might not take much notice of him. He felt conspicuously out of place and more white than he had ever felt. Three of the other men were black, like the supervisor, and the other two appeared to be Latino. All of them were quite a bit larger than Todd, well-muscled, most heavily tattooed.
After the supervisor pulled the bus out of the parking lot, the large, dark-brown Mexican sitting behind Todd leaned over the seat and asked, "Whachoo do, brah? Choo don' look like no banger. Whassup?"
Todd felt clammy at the attention, hoping to have passed unnoticed as he performed his court-appointed service. "I, uh, I was stopped for speeding," he managed to stammer by way of explanation.
"Ohh," the burly Mexican exclaimed to the others on the bus, "amigos! We gots a regular El Chapo ridin' wid us!" Todd shrank at the raucous laughter that filled the bus.
The work proved mind-numbingly dull, using a trash grabber to pick-up the debris by the side of the freeway, and sorting recyclables such as cans and bottles into special containers. The other men approached their duty half-heartedly, taking lengthy breaks, texting, talking among themselves. The supervisor did not appear to care as he spent the afternoon sitting on the bus facetiming with his girlfriend.
Once, while Todd was bent over attempting to retrieve a bottle lodged in a narrow culvert, one of the black men catcalled, "Dat is one fine jiggly booty on that dat white boy, I got to say!" The other men looked at Todd's posterior. a couple of them wolf-whistling their agreement. "Not quite Nicki Minaj, but not bad for a white sissy," one chuckled.
Todd flushed, keeping his back turned, hoping to ignore the teasing. His efforts were to no avail, however, as he felt one large black hand grasp his buttocks firmly, followed by a chuckle of approval. He yelped inwardly, hesitant to even raise his eyes to his assailant.
"Cut the crap, you men! Get back to work!" the supervisor called half-heartedly from the bus. Todd was saved from further humiliation. For now.
Second Week:
Todd’s second week of community service proved mind-numbingly tedious. He had signed up for ten hours per week to try to get through it as quickly as possible, but given the amount of teasing and ridicule he received from his co-workers, he was beginning to regret that decision.
They were now working on cleaning a public park, which to Todd’s alarm and disgust included picking up discarded syringes and used condoms.
The crew supervisor, Darren, sat at a picnic bench with his back to the workers, talking endlessly with his girlfriend. A few of the other workers unashamedly snuck off to catch a few winks on secluded park benches. Todd, meanwhile, filled trash bag after trash bag with the most unsettling refuse.
Hearing the honking of a car, Todd looked up to spot the officer who arrested him pulling up just outside the park entrance. Marcus smiled broadly, and gave Todd a jaunty wave. Just then, Jessica climbed out of the passenger side of Marcus’ Lexus, calling out, “Yoo-hoo! Todd! Over here!” Todd couldn’t believe that his wife was in the company of the man responsible for him being here. He dropped his trash picker and stared as Jessica swept toward him, her broad hips swaying. “Sweetie, you forgot your lunch,” she said, holding out a brown paper bag.
“Jessica,” Todd started, “wh-what are doing with, with…him?”
Jessica looked back at Marcus, who nodded at Todd, still smiling arrogantly. “Oh, Marcus? He’s such a sweetheart. I didn’t know where you were working this afternoon, so I called him to find out, and he offered me a lift. Isn’t that the sweetest, most thoughtful thing you ever heard?”
Jessica handed Todd his lunch, noticing coyly that she had drawn the attention of the other men in orange work vests. She smiled at them, as she explained to Todd. “Well, I better run now, baby. Marcus is taking me to lunch. Enjoy your egg salad sandwich. I made it just the way you like. Toodles!”
Jessica jumped back in the Lexus before Todd could even ask why she was having lunch with Marcus. As the car pulled away, he could have sworn that Marcus flipped him the bird. Todd felt his knees wobble, as the jitters washed over him.
“Who was dat fine piece?” inquired Grady, a large black man with a shaved head and pectorals so expansive that he was unable to even fasten the Velcro seams of his orange vest. Todd was certain he was the same man who had so lewdly grabbed him the previous week. “Dayu-m! Bitch gots a booty dat goes on for days!” A couple of the other workers standing nearby nodded their agreement.
Todd was too intimidated by Grady’s size to object to his crudity. “That was my wife,” he explained quietly.
Grady let out a whistle. “No shit. Hot cooch like that married to a little white faggit like you? No wonder she hangin’ wid a brutha.” Reddening, Todd retrieved his trash picker and began to move off. “Say, you gots any candids o’ your ol’ lady on yer phone.”
“I certainly do not,” Todd replied, trying to control the offense he felt.
“Damn, I sure would if I had a piece dat fine waitin’ for me,” Grady noted. “Tell you what, white boy: get your bitch to sext you a shot o’ her big titties, and I’ll get the other brothas to lay off your perky cracka ass. How ‘bout that?”
Todd mumbled non-committedly before resuming his work. If Grady could persuade the others to stop teasing him, Todd considered, his community service would proceed much smoother. He would not have to face each work day with new dread. During his lunch break, Todd texted Jessica.
‘Hey, baby. Would you consider sending me a pic of your beautiful breasts? It would go a long way toward brightening my afternoon of picking up other people’s garbage.’
‘Why, Todd, you naughty rascal! I’m always happy to perk up your day.’
Moments later, Jessica texted a selfie with her blouse parted, revealing her perfectly-formed, sun-kissed breasts, golden areolas haloing her pink nipples. Only the lower half of her face was included in the shot, showing her full, pouty, pink lips and her blonde locks draping her shoulders. Todd smiled at his wife’s stunning beauty. This would surely convince Grady to help him with the other men.
Toward the end of the shift, Todd approached the thickly muscled black man with something of a smug satisfaction. “I hope you like this,” he said, holding his phone up to Grady.
Grady took Todd’s phone in his big, black hand, looking at the photo appreciatively. “Goddamn, boy,” he intoned. “Are those beauties real or did buy them for your missus?”
“No, no, they’re the real thing,” Todd assured him with pride.
“Mm-mm, I could feast on those mammaries for hours, son,” Grady said as he pressed a few buttons on Todd’s phone.
“Wait,” Todd objected. “What are you….what are you doing?”
“Forwarding the photo to myself,” Grady explained. “If you and me are going to be buds, I expect you to share, know what I’m sayin’?” He handed the phone back to Todd. “Say…bud…you think you could get that hot wife o’ yours to send you a shot of that fine booty of hers? Bet that’d be a sight!”
Todd fidgeted. “I don’t know. Maybe. I…suppose…”
As Grady wandered off, he said, “Well, then, you just do that little thing for ol’ Grady, y’hear. Oh, by the way, I’s surprised you ain’t wondering who took that ‘selfie’ of your old lady.”
Todd was momentarily befuddled, but then examined the pic again. He realized that he could just make out the fingers of both Jessica’s right and left hands holding her blouse open in the margins of the photo. Someone else had to have taken the picture of his wife’s bare chest!
Third Week:
The following week, Todd's community service entailed clearing a hiking trail that ran through the hills near the coast. This assignment suited him better as it allowed him to put more distance between himself and his fellow workers. That did not prevent Grady from dogging him to inquire about the requested photo of Jessica's posterior.
"I, uh, I really don't think it's appropriate...," Todd began to protest.
"Don't talk to me about appropriate," Grady chortled. "You already showed me your wife's big tits in exchange for a bit of protection. How's that so different from a photo of her nice, big ass?"
Todd sighed, and withdrew his phone. "Alright. Here you go," he said, conceding defeat, even as a part of him took an unexpected pleasure in Grady's unapologetic carnal admiration for his wife's body.
Grady examined the photo with interest, once again forwarding it to his own phone. The pic was a medium shot of Jessica in profile, pulling on a pair of slacks, her flat abdomen juxtaposed nicely with her curvaceous hips and rounded buttocks.
"Oh, you is a naughty boy, ain't you, faggit?" Grady observed. "Bitch didn't know she was being photographed, did she? Dis shit was non-consensual." Todd reddened, beginning to stammer a denial. "No, no, don't lie, boy," Grady cautioned him. "It's pretty obvious. Nice work. But it reminds me: did you ever find out who took that pic of her big, milky jugs?"
Todd looked at the ground. "Uh, she told me it was one of her girlfriends that she went shopping with."
Grady raised an eyebrow. "And you believed dat shit? A girlfriend? You don't maybe think it was dat brother she showed up with dat day, the po-po? Cause dat's what I think, you know what I'm sayin'?"
“Well, you’re wrong,” Todd stated. “I trust my wife.”
To his dismay, Grady reached under Todd’s orange work vest and took hold of his nipples between his meaty brown fingers, giving them a firm twist. “Ow! What are you doing?” cried Todd.
“Just checkin’ the goods out, boy. Seein’ if your teats as perky as those pink nips on her wife’s big udders. You kinda remind me of a sweet ass punk I had back when I was in juvie lock-up. Had some good times wid dat white boy. Imagine I could have some good times wid you, too, y’hear me?”
Todd backed away. “I don’t, uh, I’m not…like that.”
“Shit, boy,” Grady chuckled. “None of us are, right? Now, for your next assignment, I think a pic of your bitch’s cooch would make me happy? Can you manage that? A nice shot of her sweet, pink pussy for ol’ Grady?”
Todd began to object, but Grady closed the distance between them in a couple of steps and wrapped a muscled arm around Todd’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You don’t want to disappoint me,” he cautioned the effete white man. “I’m a good man to have as a friend.” Again, the dominant black man tweaked Todd’s nipples between his fingers, causing Todd to squirm. “Hmm, y’know, you could enlarge these sweet teats o’ yours with a couple of suction cups. Make ‘em jut out nice and hard the ways I likes.” With that Grady slapped Todd on the back and sauntered off, calling as he went, “Don’t let me down, white boy!”
Fourth Week:
This time, Todd did not wait for Grady to seek him out. He sat down next to Grady on the bus, noticing that, as promised, the others had cut their teasing and belittling since the intimidating black man had befriended him. Todd opened his phone excitedly showing Grady a photo of Jessica’s spread legs, her neatly trimmed pussy on proud display. “She posed for this one,” Todd said, smiling. “I told her that it would help me get through my community service to think of her throughout the day.”
Grady appraised the photo approvingly. “That is one fine snatch,” he nodded. “Tell me, did she have you eat her out after you took the pic?”
Todd grinned sheepishly, and nodded. “Was she…extra moist down there,” Grady inquired. “Maybe creamier than usual.” Todd thought it about it, and nodded his head almost imperceptibly. “I thought so,” Grady continued. “You wonder any why that might be? You think maybe somebody had made…a recent deposit?”
Todd shook his head, retrieving his phone petulantly. “No! You’re wrong! Jessica wouldn’t do that. She just…wouldn’t”
Grady patted Todd’s dainty white hand with his large, meaty paw. “Don’t fret it none, honey,” he reassured Todd. “Your bitch is just getting herself some black mamba, no problem. You can enjoy some of your own.” He lifted Todd’s hand and pressed it to the mound of his crotch. Almost involuntarily, Todd gave Grady’s packed jeans a squeeze, before drawing his hand away with a yelp.
“Cut the shit back there,” Darren called out from behind the wheel of the bus. “We’ll be at the site soon. I don’t want any shit from you assholes today, you got me?”
Grady wore a wide smirk, a single gold tooth gleaming, as he looked down at Todd fumbling with his phone. “Oh, no shit from us, boss,” Grady assured Darren. “Everything’s copacetic back here.”
Later that afternoon, taking a break for lunch, Todd sat alone at a picnic table, trying to recall the taste of Jessica’s pussy the day he took the photo. After taking the pic, she had spread her legs, and invited him to lick her to orgasm in exchange for the photo. Had her pussy appeared more red than usual? Rawer? Had there been a salty aftertaste to her cunt? Todd tried to dismiss Grady’s lewd suggestion, but he was unable to banish it completely from his mind.
“Whachu eatin’, boss,” inquired Hector, one of the two Latinos in their work detail, plopping himself down across from Todd. Hector was thickly built and heavily inked with what Todd assumed were gang tats.
Todd picked at his food. “Ah, not much,” he replied a bit demurely. “It’s a, uh, bento box…with grilled salmon and brown rice, some broccoli. That’s it.”
“Gimme a taste, brah,” Hector suggested, his English thickly accented.
“Well, it’s, uh, all I have and there’s not, um, very much, I’m afraid.”
Hector fixed him in a steely gaze. “Yo, I din’t ask choo how much dere was, gringo,” he snapped. “I said gimme some! In fact, gimme de whole shit!”
Just then, Grady sat down beside Hector. “What’s goin’ on here, homie?” he asked. “You ain’t bothering my pal Todd none, are you…brah?”
Hector lowered his gaze, cowed by the larger man, and stood from the table. “Nah, man, nah. Just makin’ conversation. You know.” With that, he shuffled off.
“Th-thank you,” Todd stammered.
“Don’t thank me none,” Grady answered “We pals, you and me. I gots your back.” Grady opened a brown paper bag, and unwrapped a sandwich. “Speakin’ o’ backs, I got to tell you, buddy, you got a booty almost as fine as that cheatin’ bitch o’ yours. I’d like to see your pussy almost as much as hers.” Todd reddened. “Maybe next time, instead of your wife, you bring me a pic of your snatch, what d’ya say? Maybe pose in a pair o’ your wife’s silky panties for me, hm?”
“I don’t think…I mean…,” Todd began to object.
“I don’t need you to think,” Grady chuckled, taking a big bite out of his sandwich. “I just need you to do as ol’ Grady says, y’hear me? Next time, bring a pic o’ your sweet hole, and I keep losers like Hector off your back. We understand one another?”
Todd nodded defeatedly.
That Saturday, Jessica told Todd that she was going to a friend’s baby shower.
“Which friend,” Todd asked, a bit nervously.
“Uh..Mar…Marissa. A friend from the club. You don’t know her,” Jessica explained.
“Oh.” Todd watched as Jessica finished applying a deep crimson shade of lipstick. “Aren’t you dressed a bit…wild…for a baby shower, though,” Todd inquired, noting the length of his wife’s very short skirt, the accompanying knee-high leather boots, the low-cut top that exposed the deep shadow of her cleavage.
“Don’t be such a prig, Todd,” Jessica chastised him with a laugh, as she stood from her bedroom vanity. “Don’t wait up, honey,” she advised him as she headed toward the front door. “Oh, I’m taking the jag. And, yes, mother, I promise to drive safely,” she added before he could object.
Todd puttered around the house, distraught at being abandoned by his wife on a Saturday night for a supposed friend he didn’t even know.
In the bedroom, Jessica’s dresser seemed to beckon to him. He opened the top drawer, eyeing her array of undergarments. Grady’s words echoed in his mind: “Try on a pair o’ your wife’s silky panties.”
Todd ran a curious hand over the top pair, caressing the material between his fingers. No rayon or polyester for Jessica. Her intimates were of the finest mulberry silks and natural lace. Todd held up one pair of pink, lacey underwear. They were Saint Laurent. He held them to his cheek, enjoying the fine smoothness of the material. Before he knew it, he had dropped his jeans and boxers, and turned toward Jessica’s full-length mirror.
Todd still had many weeks of damned community service ahead of him. It was worth it, he told himself, to keep Grady happy in order to keep dangerous thugs like Hector from troubling him. He stepped into his wife’s pink panties, sliding them up his thin legs and over his rounded buttocks. He frowned as he realized that his boyish cock and balls made almost no visible bulge against the crotch of the underwear. Not quite satisfied, Todd slipped his sweatshirt off over his head, and re-examined himself in the mirror.
He turned to the side, viewing himself in profile. He giggled at the sight of himself in the mirror, and stuck his rear out almost coquettishly, liking the way his plump ass cheeks filled the pink lace. Before he could chicken out, Todd retrieved his phone and snapped a couple of selfies from the waist down. Turning his back to the mirror, he lowered the lingerie halfway down his buttocks and spread his ass crack, revealing a puckered hole. He snapped a couple more selfies, hoping they might satisfy Grady.
Looking at himself full-on, Todd noticed that he had spouted a small erection. He rubbed it through the lace, realizing that his nipples had also grown erect. Reaching up, he twisted them between his fingers, recalling what Grady had said about enlarging them. It seemed silly, but Todd pulled at his pink, boyish nipples, imagining them nearer in size to his wife’s ruddy teats.
As Todd continued to tweak his nipples with one hand, he massaged his prick with the other, suddenly remembering the feel of Grady’s bulge in that same hand. Unexpectedly, he ejaculated into his wife’s panties, filling the fine silk with his watery semen. Shit, he thought, what the fuck is happening to me?
Fifth week:
Their latest service consisted of scrubbing graffiti from beneath highway overpasses. Darren deposited them in pairs at various sites, with brushes and solvents. Grady, who appeared to be in the supervisor’s good graces, requested being paired with Todd, much to Todd’s relief.
As they worked, Grady would occasionally give Todd a friendly grin, but made no other crude overtures or asked to see any new photos. The ball was fully in Todd’s court now. Unable to restrain himself, Todd approached Grady and proffered his phone. “I, uh, hope you like these photos,” he said.
Grady scrolled through the photos of Todd in his wife’s pink lingerie, letting out an approving whistle. “Goddamn, white boy,” he said. “I just knew you had a fine pussy on you.” Again he forwarded the photos to his own phone, this time without any objection from Todd. “Not much hair on you,” Grady observed appreciatively. “But I think it’d be better if you shaved what little there is, don’t you think? It’d make ol’ Grady happy, that’s for sure.”
Grady reached down and helped himself to a handful of Todd’s globular buttocks. “How’d it make you feel, pretty boy, dressing all girlie for your big black daddy? Did it bring out the sissy in you?”
Todd bit his lip, and nodded, finding that he enjoyed the feel of Grady’s strong hand on his ass. “I thought so,” the large black man observed. “Won’t be long now, you’ll be beggin’ Grady to put the wood to you.”
Todd shook his head, but only half-heartedly. “I’m not gay,” he objected.
Grady grinned widely, displaying his gold tooth. “Never said you was, white boy. Never said you was.”
Jessica was waiting for Todd in the living room when he returned home from his community service that evening. “Hi, honey,” he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
Jessica just stared at him blankly for a moment.
“Todd,” she said, holding her phone up to him. “Just what the hell is this?” Todd stared, unbelieving, at a photo of himself in his wife’s pink Saint Laurent undergarments.
“How did you…where did you…I mean, I can explain,” Todd said, his mind racing.
Jessica stood, towering over Todd, especially in her heels. “It turns out that Marcus was the arresting officer of one of your pals from community service. Grady something or other,” Jessica said. “A pal that you have been playing dress up for…in my underwear!”
“Marcus!” Todd felt himself redden at the thought of the black police officer who arrested him in the first place. “When did you see him? Why did you see him?”
“Oh, Todd,” Jessica answered scornfully. “Don’t be so fuckin’ naïve. You know, honestly, if you wanted to experiment, you should have just told me. We could have found some things that fit you better.”
“But I don’t want to…to experiment,” Todd protested. “It was just so, Grady, he, he protected me from the others. It was just, just like…insurance.”
“Nonsense,” Jessica admonished him. Taking him by the hand, she led him to the bedroom. “Strip,” she commanded. “If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it properly.”
Over the next hour or so, Todd was putty in his wife’s hands, as she remade him in her own image. She started with applying hair removal cream to the light down on his chest and his ass. She followed that by shaving his underarm hair and trimming his pubic bush. Whenever he would object, she simply shushed him, assuring him that she knew exactly what she was doing.
She combed his blonde hair out, giving it more body. “We really should think about lightening it,” she suggested. “I bet your man would appreciate that.” When Todd began to stutter in protest, Jessica merely held a finger to his lips, cooing, “This is all for the best, honey. Just trust me, okay?” Todd couldn’t help but recall that it was Jessica who had urged him to race that Impala and who goaded him into stranding up to Marcus and who had counseled him to fight the traffic citation in court. Now, he sat here placidly as she transformed him into a pale imitation of herself.
Satisfied with his hair, Jessica began applying make-up from her selection of Chanel and Dior products. “We’ll have to consider getting you some colors that match your natural hue,” she said, as she contoured his cheeks with rose beige rouge. “I’m a summer, of course, but you’re more of an autumn. My! How I envy your high cheekbones! The color really brings them out.” She proceeded to paint his nails a deep vamp red.
As Jessica looked through her wardrobe, Todd examined himself in the mirror. The face looking back at him was both attractive and ludicrous at the same time. Feminized as he was, he looked more like a caricature of a sissy than a woman.
Jessica dressed him in black lace underwear, explaining that the darker colors suited him better than the pink he had chosen for Grady. She next had him slip into one of her leather skirts, which he was just lean enough to pull off. She completed the ensemble with a red crop halter top that displayed his flat abdomen while adding a bit of a bosom to his otherwise flat chest.
“No sense having you ruin any of my pumps until I can teach you how to walk in them,” she sighed, “so my Gucci flats will have to do for now. You’ll have to earn your heels.” Jessica stood back and admired her handiwork: her financially successful husband transformed into a cross between a debutante and a Tenderloin hooker. “Stunning,” she said.
Just as Todd was about to say that enough was enough, that she had made her point and had her fun, the doorbell rang. “Oh!” Jessica exclaimed. “The boys are here!”
“Boys?” Todd asked in a panic. “What boys? What are you talking about?”
Jessica tapped him on the nose with a long fingernail. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetie,” she admonished him. “I’ll let our guests in. Wait here until I call for you. And for God’s sake, don’t do anything to ruin all my work!” With that Todd’s wife scurried off.
Simultaneously terrified and intrigued by whatever it was his wife was up to, Todd stood before the full-length mirror and examined the full effect of Jessica’s efforts. He pursed his full lips, placed a hand on his hip. As much as he wanted it otherwise, he found that he enjoyed the way he looked. It made him feel naughty, slutty, even oddly powerful, a bit like Jessica herself. He raised himself to his toes, and found that he wished he could wear high heels. Jessica’s stilettos would look marvelous with this outfit. He adjusted the contour of his halter top, to better fit his lack of cleavage. Once again, he found himself thinking about enlarging his nipples as Grady had suggested. Erect teats displayed against the fabric of his top would distract from the flatness of his chest.
“Honey,” Jessica called from downstairs. “Todd! It’s time for your entrance!”
Todd sighed and moved to the head of the stairs, nervous and uncertain what to expect. “Come on, don’t be shy,” Jessica called, teasingly. As he walked slowly down, he gasped inwardly at the sight of Jessica standing at the foot of the stairs, Grady and Marcus on either side of her.
“Goddamn,” intoned Grady in his resonant voice. “Does that bitch look fuckin’ sexy!”
Marcus, in full uniform, looking much as he had the day he arrested Todd, said, “I have to admit, babe, you do good work. Not much man left there…not that there was really much to begin with.” Jessica sniggered at the jibe.
As Todd reached the bottom step, Grady reached out and pulled the feminized young man into an embrace, his brawny arms encircling Todd’s lithe frame. “C’mere, you hot bitch,” he laughed. “Give Grady a hug!” Todd virtually disappeared in the larger man’s burly arms, self-conscious in front of Jessica and Marcus. Grady cupped a hand under Todd’s chin, raising the white sissy’s face to his own, and planted an unexpected kiss on Todd’s ruby lips, smearing the freshly applied lipstick. Grady’s tongue invaded Todd’s mouth, eliciting a protesting if ineffectual squeal.
“Damn,” chortled Marcus. “They really do make a sexy couple, don’t they?”
“Didn’t I tell you, hon,” Jessica agreed. “I just knew that this is exactly what Todd needed.”
Todd wiggled free of Grady’s embrace. “You knew? What…what do you mean you knew?” he asked his wife.
“Oh, honey,” Jessica giggled. “You’ve never been much of a man, not like Marcus here, anyway. I always knew you were a sissy at heart, just like you told me those boys in high school always used to call you. You don’t have to hide it anymore. Isn’t that awesome?” Jessica took Todd by the hand. “Now, come on! It’s time I taught you how to suck black dick!”
Over the next hour, Jessica demonstrated her oral acumen on Marcus’ enormous black prong, a curved scimitar of a cock that jutted aggressively from the open fly of his dark blue uniform.
Grady sat beside Marcus on the living room sofa, the married white couple kneeling before both black men as Jessica gave her husband a cocksucking tutorial. Todd was a reluctant protegee at first, balking on the sight of his beautiful wife slurping contentedly on another man’s prick. Eventually, though, he realized that he was even more aroused at seeing Jessica pleasure another man than he was either hurt or angry. The few times that she had wrapped her lips around his own much smaller penis, she displayed nothing like the frenzy she applied to Marcus’ dark brown pole.
When Grady unzipped his fly, and hauled out his prodigious meat, both Jessica and Todd gasped. Todd, who had protested to Grady just that afternoon that he was not gay, could not take his eyes off the thick, foreskinned slab of beef that presented itself to him.
Jessica wrapped a small white hand around the girth of Grady’s prick, proffering it to her sissified husband. Todd’s eyes were drawn to the gold of her wedding ring against the mahogany flesh. Stroking her dainty hand along the bloated shaft, Jessica said, “Go on, honey. You know you want to.”
Both Marcus and Grady voiced their own encouragement. “Be the faggot you know yourself to be,” Marcus sneered.
“Go on, and show my black dick some love, white boy,” Grady invited. “I been waiting for that mouth for a long time, now.”
Todd parted his lips, and welcomed the behemoth of a prick into his mouth.
Later that evening, Marcus and Grady had the loving couple bent over the back of the sofa, rutting into their raised, welcoming asses. Todd marveled at the pleasure it gave him to have Grady’s massive prong massage his prostate. As Todd moaned with an appreciation that shocked himself, Jessica turned and pressed her open mouth to that of her husband. The married couple exchange sloppy wet kisses even as the two domineering black men flooded their insides with thick, African batter. Filled to overflowing, Todd exuberantly surrendered the last vestiges of whatever manhood he had left.
Tenth week:
Darren ushered Todd and Grady into his office. “Well, Worthington,” he said. “You’ve completed your community service, and I’ll be happy to sign off on your court paperwork.”
Todd, in pink yoga pants and a yellow, blouse, thanked the supervisor. Over the last month, he had let his hair grow out, and lightened it as his wife had suggested. He had suctioned his nipples until they were engorged and perky in the thin fabric of his blouse. They remained a work in progress, and Todd looked forward to making them much larger for Grady’s pleasure. He wore bright, loud make-up, affecting a rather sluttish demeanor that his black daddy seemed to appreciate.
“Thank you, so much, sir,” Todd said to the middle-aged black man, who remained completely unperturbed by the many changes Todd had affected in recent weeks. “But what about Grady. Aren’t you going to sign off on the completion of his service, too?”
Darren looked at the sissy in confusion. “Well, no,” he explained. “Grady here completed his community service five weeks ago. He’s just been showing up for work details to keep you company, it seems.”
Todd’s mouth dropped open. “What? Really?”
Grady drew his white sissy into a welcome embrace.
“Well, damn it, girl,” he confessed. “Someone hadda keep an eye out for a pretty thing like you. No telling what kind of shit a sweet bitch might get herself into.”
Todd wrapped his arms around his black daddy’s massive shoulders.
“Thank you, daddy,” he said, planting multiple kisses on Grady’s bearded cheek. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“Okay, you two lovebirds,” Darren sighed. “Take it outside. I got to call my own old lady.”
With their arms wrapped around one another, Todd and Grady exited Darren’s work trailer, and headed for the fusion red Tesla awaiting them in the parking lot.
When a tricked out blue velvet Chevy Impala pulled up on Todd's right at the stoplight, revving its engines, both he and Jessica turned to see a hard-muscled, heavily-tattooed, brown arm hanging casually out the Impala's window. The driver—a young black man with long beaded cornrows—flashed a shiny gold grill as he appraised Todd's car and Todd's wife with an approving nod. As usual, Jessica enjoyed the attention of any confident, self-assured man, and smiled back invitingly. Catching Todd's eye, the young black man nodded down the road, and revved his engine again.
"Oh! Todd, sweetie," Jessica said in a high-pitched titter. "I think he wants to race you!"
Todd considered the Impala with some disdain. "In that heap?" he replied snidely. "What would be the point? This beauty can go zero to sixty in 1.1 seconds, you know."
Jessica looked from the Impala's driver to Todd. "Well, I know you always say that," she scolded. "But now's your chance to actually prove it."
As if on cue, the young black man revved the Impala's engine again. Todd locked eyes with the smirking black man, and gripped the wheel in his leather-gloved hands. The instant the light changed to green, Todd floored the pedal, accelerating more quickly than he had ever even attempted before. The wind whipping her hair through the open window, Jessica giggled mischievously when she noticed that rather than race Todd, the Impala had casually taken a simple right turn and driven off. Before Todd had the chance to realize he had been pranked, he heard sirens blare behind him.
"Oh, damn," he whined.
Todd pulled over to the side of the road, feeling a line of sweat break out on his forehead. The cost of a ticket meant little to him, of course, but seeing the dark blue of the officer's uniform move toward him in the side mirror nevertheless caused him inexplicable anxiety.
"License and registration, please, sir," he heard the officer's deep, commanding bass voice at his window. Todd looked up nervously at the unsmiling face of a hulking, black officer, whose eyes were hidden by mirrored sunglasses.
"Of course, officer," Todd started, feeling for his wallet. "I have, uh, well, I mean...Oh! I...I must have left my billfold at home. I don't know what I was thinking."
The officer sighed. "Just a minute, sir," he said, sauntering back to his patrol car.
"You forgot your license?" Jessica asked incredulously. "Well, really, Todd, it's not like he's going to lock you up for that? Stand up for yourself? I mean, you pay his salary, right?"
Todd steeled himself. Jessica had a point: with the taxes he paid, he probably supported the whole damn force! Todd climbed out of his car and started toward the officer. “Uh, excuse me,” he started.
"Sir," the heavily built black officer instructed, "please return to your vehicle. Now."
Todd ignored him with a child’s petulance. "Look, I just want to be clear, none of this is my..."
"Sir!" the officer repeated, his hand hovering above his holstered sidearm. "I said, wait in your vehicle!"
Todd began to protest, but before another word could escape his lips, the officer, several inches taller than Todd's diminutive five feet, five inches of height, had grabbed Todd by one scrawny arm, twisted it behind his back, and forced him over the rear of the Tesla.
"Oof! Now wait just a moment," Todd sputtered, as he struggled vainly against the officer's thickly corded forearm, tight in the short-sleeve of his blue uniform. "You don't know, ugh, who you're, uhn, dealing with," Todd exclaimed as he wiggled uselessly.
Jessica watched the entire episode in the rearview mirror, biting her lip and trying to suppress a giggle at her husband's helplessness. "Did he really just say that?" she tittered to herself. The curvaceous blonde found that she rather enjoyed seeing her timid, ineffectual husband put in his place by the large hulk of a black man.
"Sir, I told you to remain in your vehicle," the officer explained. "Now, are you going to calm down so I can proceed with my job?"
"Get off me you, you big goon!" shouted Todd, continuing to resist the officer’s instructions, his voice higher-pitched than he would have liked.
"Very well, sir," the black office replied, reaching for the handcuffs at his belt. "I am placing you under arrest for obstruction of an officer in the course of his duties, as well as various traffic violations."
Todd continued to wriggle as his hands were cuffed behind him. The officer stood him up and placed him in the backseat of his patrol car, even as Todd continued spouting threats. "You're making a big mistake, fella! I'll have your badge for this!"
With Todd secured, the officer approached Jessica at the passenger side window. "Ma'am," he said, "I'm sorry about this...ugliness."
Jessica leaned out the window, her heavy breasts pressed against the car door. "Oh, no need to apologize, officer. I'm afraid my husband was being quite unreasonable. You really had no choice, did you?" Jessica observed the bulge in the crotch of the officer's tight slacks as he took in her inviting cleavage.
"Are you...okay to drive yourself home, ma'am?" he inquired, placing his large, black hands on the window frame, casually brushing Jessica's erect nipples through the fabric.
Jessica bit her lower lip. "I really don’t know, officer. This whole episode has been so upsetting...maybe you should follow me to make sure I don't have an…accident."
The patrol car tailed Jessica to their house in the Los Altos hills. She rarely drove the Tesla, and found she enjoyed its power, as well as the envious looks of passersby even in this most wealthy of neighborhoods, as much as her husband always did. During the drive, Todd continued to rail against the police officer. "What's your badge number, buddy? You can look forward to being a mall cop, by the time my lawyer is through with you! Where are we going? That's my house? What are we doing here?"
Jessica opened the electronic gate automatically and motioned for the patrol car to follow her into the circular driveway. The officer exited his car, leaving Todd alone, handcuffed in the backseat. The patrol car’s rear doors, he observed with frustration, had no interior handles. Todd watched helplessly as the officer joined Jessica on the front stoop of their home. Jessica didn't spare even a backward glance for her husband as she ushered the officer through the front door.
A half hour later, the officer returned to the patrol car, contentedly adjusting his belt. Jessica was nowhere to be seen. "What took so long," Todd wailed. "Where's my wife? What were you doing? You had no right to, to be in my house! My home!"
"Just needed to ensure that your wife got home safely, sir," the officer replied, turning to Todd with a wide grin as he pulled out of the drive. "Your behavior this afternoon has left her quite upset. She had a lot of...questions about…procedures." Pulling out on the street, the officer radioed in his location, and said he was bringing in a 23109 and a 12500a. Todd grumbled futilely in the backseat.
At the station, Todd used his one call to ask Jessica to contact his lawyer to post bail as soon as possible. "By the way," he asked, "what did that cop want in our house? He didn't try anything, did he? Why did you let him in?"
“Relax, Todd,” Jessica assured him. “Marcus was a perfect gentleman. Very sweet, actually. I don’t know why you had to give him such a difficult time.”
“Marcus? You’re on a first name basis with the goon who arrested me?”
“Time’s up, sir,” the desk sergeant told him.
Todd nodded and held up a finger, continuing to grill his wife about her encounter with this “Marcus” person. After another minute, the sergeant pressed a finger against the receiver and took the phone from Todd’s hand.
“I hate repeating myself, sir. It is time to take you to the holding cell until bail is set.”
Cell? thought Todd to himself. What kind of degenerates do I have to share a cell with? “Uh, can’t I just…wait here,” Todd suggested. “It shouldn’t be long, and I promise to be stay out of the way.”
“Regulations, sir,” he replied. “Please, this way.”
The holding cell was crowded with unsavory characters, as rowdy as they were rough. A couple of them leered at Todd in his dress slacks, blazer, and apricot-colored polo shirt with unsettling interest. A single toilet sat in a corner of the unadorned cell, and a tall, burly black man in a white tank top and low hanging jeans stood before it unabashedly taking a leak. He turned toward Todd with a sneer as he shook the remaining drops of piss from an obscenely large, flaccid penis, before stuffing it back in the fly of his jeans. Several of the other men guffawed as Todd flushed a deep crimson.
With an unmistakable bulge at his crotch, the man with the behemoth of a penis approached Todd, some of the other men close behind him. “Pretty as a girl,” one muttered. “Look at that fine white ass,” admired another. “I likes them there puffy lips,” opined a third. Black fingers tweaked Todd’s rosy nipples beneath his polo as he was crowded into a corner of the cell. The musky odor of the predatory men surrounding the lithe, timid Todd, overwhelmed him, leaving him dizzy and bewildered.
“Worthington!” a guard’s voice called out. “Todd Worthington!” Todd squeezed through the sea of sweaty muscle, raising a hand as if he had been called by a grade school teacher.
“Me! That’s me! Right here!”
The guard examined him with barely concealed contempt. “Your lawyer’s here,” he informed the shaken Todd, unlocking the cell. “Follow me.”
Two weeks later, Todd sat in the courtroom, accompanied by his wife and his lawyer. His lawyer had complained that his field was tax law, and that he could have recommended a criminal defender, but Todd considered the charges a mere nuisance and imagined that he would be in and out of the courtroom with a small fine at most. When he observed, however, that the judge was a black woman, Todd worried that a privileged white defendant such as himself might face some undeserved prejudice from the court, especially since the arresting officer, who was present in the court, was also black.
“What are you doing?” Todd asked Jessica, when he noticed her discreetly waving her fingers at the black officer, Marcus, who had so casually man-handled and arrested him.
“Calm down, honey,” his wife reassured him. “It can’t hurt to be friendly.” Jessica’s friendliness didn’t seem to help Todd any, however, when Marcus was examined by the prosecutor. He described Todd’s attitude on the day of his arrest as uncooperative, hostile, and condescending. “To be honest,” he explained, “he acted as if the law didn’t apply to him.” Video from Marcus’ shoulder cam was offered into evidence. Todd winced hearing his own high-pitched petulant voice during the encounter by the roadside.
“I hope you’re not going to let them railroad you like this, sweetie,” Jessica whispered in her husband’s ear. “You did absolutely nothing wrong.”
When Todd took the stand, he tried to explain that it was all a misunderstanding, that he had simply been goaded into street racing by another driver. “Excuse me,” interrupted the judge, “but do you really think that you are helping yourself by admitting to drag racing on a public street?” Todd gulped, and looked toward Jessica for moral support, but she was busy waving at Marcus, who sat in the back of the courtroom smiling back at the vivacious blonde.
After an hour’s deliberation, the judge called everyone back into the courtroom.
“Given the severity of your actions, Mr. Worthington, your rather cavalier attitude toward a potentially very dangerous activity, and your unwarranted disrespect for an officer of the law in the performance of his duty, the Court is fining you $15,000. Given your resources, the Court realizes that this is not a particularly onerous punishment, so we will also be requiring you to attend not less than twelve hours of traffic school, as well as perform one-hundred hours of community service to be approved by an officer of the court.”
Todd’s mouth hung agape in a simmering stupor. “But, but, but,” he stammered.
The judge looked up from her desk. “I’m sorry. Do you have something to add, Mr. Worthington?” she asked sternly.
Todd’s lawyer stood up quickly. “No, your honor. My client understands the Court’s decision and will comply with the ruling. Thank you, your honor.” Turning to Todd, he hissed, “Damn it, Todd! I told you! I’m just a goddamn tax lawyer!”
First Week:
The supervisor handed out yellow and orange safety vests to the road crew before they boarded the short bus. Todd took his gingerly, wanting to ask if they'd been washed and sanitized, but fearful that such prissiness would only result in mockery from the five other men sentenced to community service with him.
Taking a seat near the front of the bus, Todd kept his head down, hoping that the others might not take much notice of him. He felt conspicuously out of place and more white than he had ever felt. Three of the other men were black, like the supervisor, and the other two appeared to be Latino. All of them were quite a bit larger than Todd, well-muscled, most heavily tattooed.
After the supervisor pulled the bus out of the parking lot, the large, dark-brown Mexican sitting behind Todd leaned over the seat and asked, "Whachoo do, brah? Choo don' look like no banger. Whassup?"
Todd felt clammy at the attention, hoping to have passed unnoticed as he performed his court-appointed service. "I, uh, I was stopped for speeding," he managed to stammer by way of explanation.
"Ohh," the burly Mexican exclaimed to the others on the bus, "amigos! We gots a regular El Chapo ridin' wid us!" Todd shrank at the raucous laughter that filled the bus.
The work proved mind-numbingly dull, using a trash grabber to pick-up the debris by the side of the freeway, and sorting recyclables such as cans and bottles into special containers. The other men approached their duty half-heartedly, taking lengthy breaks, texting, talking among themselves. The supervisor did not appear to care as he spent the afternoon sitting on the bus facetiming with his girlfriend.
Once, while Todd was bent over attempting to retrieve a bottle lodged in a narrow culvert, one of the black men catcalled, "Dat is one fine jiggly booty on that dat white boy, I got to say!" The other men looked at Todd's posterior. a couple of them wolf-whistling their agreement. "Not quite Nicki Minaj, but not bad for a white sissy," one chuckled.
Todd flushed, keeping his back turned, hoping to ignore the teasing. His efforts were to no avail, however, as he felt one large black hand grasp his buttocks firmly, followed by a chuckle of approval. He yelped inwardly, hesitant to even raise his eyes to his assailant.
"Cut the crap, you men! Get back to work!" the supervisor called half-heartedly from the bus. Todd was saved from further humiliation. For now.
Second Week:
Todd’s second week of community service proved mind-numbingly tedious. He had signed up for ten hours per week to try to get through it as quickly as possible, but given the amount of teasing and ridicule he received from his co-workers, he was beginning to regret that decision.
They were now working on cleaning a public park, which to Todd’s alarm and disgust included picking up discarded syringes and used condoms.
The crew supervisor, Darren, sat at a picnic bench with his back to the workers, talking endlessly with his girlfriend. A few of the other workers unashamedly snuck off to catch a few winks on secluded park benches. Todd, meanwhile, filled trash bag after trash bag with the most unsettling refuse.
Hearing the honking of a car, Todd looked up to spot the officer who arrested him pulling up just outside the park entrance. Marcus smiled broadly, and gave Todd a jaunty wave. Just then, Jessica climbed out of the passenger side of Marcus’ Lexus, calling out, “Yoo-hoo! Todd! Over here!” Todd couldn’t believe that his wife was in the company of the man responsible for him being here. He dropped his trash picker and stared as Jessica swept toward him, her broad hips swaying. “Sweetie, you forgot your lunch,” she said, holding out a brown paper bag.
“Jessica,” Todd started, “wh-what are doing with, with…him?”
Jessica looked back at Marcus, who nodded at Todd, still smiling arrogantly. “Oh, Marcus? He’s such a sweetheart. I didn’t know where you were working this afternoon, so I called him to find out, and he offered me a lift. Isn’t that the sweetest, most thoughtful thing you ever heard?”
Jessica handed Todd his lunch, noticing coyly that she had drawn the attention of the other men in orange work vests. She smiled at them, as she explained to Todd. “Well, I better run now, baby. Marcus is taking me to lunch. Enjoy your egg salad sandwich. I made it just the way you like. Toodles!”
Jessica jumped back in the Lexus before Todd could even ask why she was having lunch with Marcus. As the car pulled away, he could have sworn that Marcus flipped him the bird. Todd felt his knees wobble, as the jitters washed over him.
“Who was dat fine piece?” inquired Grady, a large black man with a shaved head and pectorals so expansive that he was unable to even fasten the Velcro seams of his orange vest. Todd was certain he was the same man who had so lewdly grabbed him the previous week. “Dayu-m! Bitch gots a booty dat goes on for days!” A couple of the other workers standing nearby nodded their agreement.
Todd was too intimidated by Grady’s size to object to his crudity. “That was my wife,” he explained quietly.
Grady let out a whistle. “No shit. Hot cooch like that married to a little white faggit like you? No wonder she hangin’ wid a brutha.” Reddening, Todd retrieved his trash picker and began to move off. “Say, you gots any candids o’ your ol’ lady on yer phone.”
“I certainly do not,” Todd replied, trying to control the offense he felt.
“Damn, I sure would if I had a piece dat fine waitin’ for me,” Grady noted. “Tell you what, white boy: get your bitch to sext you a shot o’ her big titties, and I’ll get the other brothas to lay off your perky cracka ass. How ‘bout that?”
Todd mumbled non-committedly before resuming his work. If Grady could persuade the others to stop teasing him, Todd considered, his community service would proceed much smoother. He would not have to face each work day with new dread. During his lunch break, Todd texted Jessica.
‘Hey, baby. Would you consider sending me a pic of your beautiful breasts? It would go a long way toward brightening my afternoon of picking up other people’s garbage.’
‘Why, Todd, you naughty rascal! I’m always happy to perk up your day.’
Moments later, Jessica texted a selfie with her blouse parted, revealing her perfectly-formed, sun-kissed breasts, golden areolas haloing her pink nipples. Only the lower half of her face was included in the shot, showing her full, pouty, pink lips and her blonde locks draping her shoulders. Todd smiled at his wife’s stunning beauty. This would surely convince Grady to help him with the other men.
Toward the end of the shift, Todd approached the thickly muscled black man with something of a smug satisfaction. “I hope you like this,” he said, holding his phone up to Grady.
Grady took Todd’s phone in his big, black hand, looking at the photo appreciatively. “Goddamn, boy,” he intoned. “Are those beauties real or did buy them for your missus?”
“No, no, they’re the real thing,” Todd assured him with pride.
“Mm-mm, I could feast on those mammaries for hours, son,” Grady said as he pressed a few buttons on Todd’s phone.
“Wait,” Todd objected. “What are you….what are you doing?”
“Forwarding the photo to myself,” Grady explained. “If you and me are going to be buds, I expect you to share, know what I’m sayin’?” He handed the phone back to Todd. “Say…bud…you think you could get that hot wife o’ yours to send you a shot of that fine booty of hers? Bet that’d be a sight!”
Todd fidgeted. “I don’t know. Maybe. I…suppose…”
As Grady wandered off, he said, “Well, then, you just do that little thing for ol’ Grady, y’hear. Oh, by the way, I’s surprised you ain’t wondering who took that ‘selfie’ of your old lady.”
Todd was momentarily befuddled, but then examined the pic again. He realized that he could just make out the fingers of both Jessica’s right and left hands holding her blouse open in the margins of the photo. Someone else had to have taken the picture of his wife’s bare chest!
Third Week:
The following week, Todd's community service entailed clearing a hiking trail that ran through the hills near the coast. This assignment suited him better as it allowed him to put more distance between himself and his fellow workers. That did not prevent Grady from dogging him to inquire about the requested photo of Jessica's posterior.
"I, uh, I really don't think it's appropriate...," Todd began to protest.
"Don't talk to me about appropriate," Grady chortled. "You already showed me your wife's big tits in exchange for a bit of protection. How's that so different from a photo of her nice, big ass?"
Todd sighed, and withdrew his phone. "Alright. Here you go," he said, conceding defeat, even as a part of him took an unexpected pleasure in Grady's unapologetic carnal admiration for his wife's body.
Grady examined the photo with interest, once again forwarding it to his own phone. The pic was a medium shot of Jessica in profile, pulling on a pair of slacks, her flat abdomen juxtaposed nicely with her curvaceous hips and rounded buttocks.
"Oh, you is a naughty boy, ain't you, faggit?" Grady observed. "Bitch didn't know she was being photographed, did she? Dis shit was non-consensual." Todd reddened, beginning to stammer a denial. "No, no, don't lie, boy," Grady cautioned him. "It's pretty obvious. Nice work. But it reminds me: did you ever find out who took that pic of her big, milky jugs?"
Todd looked at the ground. "Uh, she told me it was one of her girlfriends that she went shopping with."
Grady raised an eyebrow. "And you believed dat shit? A girlfriend? You don't maybe think it was dat brother she showed up with dat day, the po-po? Cause dat's what I think, you know what I'm sayin'?"
“Well, you’re wrong,” Todd stated. “I trust my wife.”
To his dismay, Grady reached under Todd’s orange work vest and took hold of his nipples between his meaty brown fingers, giving them a firm twist. “Ow! What are you doing?” cried Todd.
“Just checkin’ the goods out, boy. Seein’ if your teats as perky as those pink nips on her wife’s big udders. You kinda remind me of a sweet ass punk I had back when I was in juvie lock-up. Had some good times wid dat white boy. Imagine I could have some good times wid you, too, y’hear me?”
Todd backed away. “I don’t, uh, I’m not…like that.”
“Shit, boy,” Grady chuckled. “None of us are, right? Now, for your next assignment, I think a pic of your bitch’s cooch would make me happy? Can you manage that? A nice shot of her sweet, pink pussy for ol’ Grady?”
Todd began to object, but Grady closed the distance between them in a couple of steps and wrapped a muscled arm around Todd’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You don’t want to disappoint me,” he cautioned the effete white man. “I’m a good man to have as a friend.” Again, the dominant black man tweaked Todd’s nipples between his fingers, causing Todd to squirm. “Hmm, y’know, you could enlarge these sweet teats o’ yours with a couple of suction cups. Make ‘em jut out nice and hard the ways I likes.” With that Grady slapped Todd on the back and sauntered off, calling as he went, “Don’t let me down, white boy!”
Fourth Week:
This time, Todd did not wait for Grady to seek him out. He sat down next to Grady on the bus, noticing that, as promised, the others had cut their teasing and belittling since the intimidating black man had befriended him. Todd opened his phone excitedly showing Grady a photo of Jessica’s spread legs, her neatly trimmed pussy on proud display. “She posed for this one,” Todd said, smiling. “I told her that it would help me get through my community service to think of her throughout the day.”
Grady appraised the photo approvingly. “That is one fine snatch,” he nodded. “Tell me, did she have you eat her out after you took the pic?”
Todd grinned sheepishly, and nodded. “Was she…extra moist down there,” Grady inquired. “Maybe creamier than usual.” Todd thought it about it, and nodded his head almost imperceptibly. “I thought so,” Grady continued. “You wonder any why that might be? You think maybe somebody had made…a recent deposit?”
Todd shook his head, retrieving his phone petulantly. “No! You’re wrong! Jessica wouldn’t do that. She just…wouldn’t”
Grady patted Todd’s dainty white hand with his large, meaty paw. “Don’t fret it none, honey,” he reassured Todd. “Your bitch is just getting herself some black mamba, no problem. You can enjoy some of your own.” He lifted Todd’s hand and pressed it to the mound of his crotch. Almost involuntarily, Todd gave Grady’s packed jeans a squeeze, before drawing his hand away with a yelp.
“Cut the shit back there,” Darren called out from behind the wheel of the bus. “We’ll be at the site soon. I don’t want any shit from you assholes today, you got me?”
Grady wore a wide smirk, a single gold tooth gleaming, as he looked down at Todd fumbling with his phone. “Oh, no shit from us, boss,” Grady assured Darren. “Everything’s copacetic back here.”
Later that afternoon, taking a break for lunch, Todd sat alone at a picnic table, trying to recall the taste of Jessica’s pussy the day he took the photo. After taking the pic, she had spread her legs, and invited him to lick her to orgasm in exchange for the photo. Had her pussy appeared more red than usual? Rawer? Had there been a salty aftertaste to her cunt? Todd tried to dismiss Grady’s lewd suggestion, but he was unable to banish it completely from his mind.
“Whachu eatin’, boss,” inquired Hector, one of the two Latinos in their work detail, plopping himself down across from Todd. Hector was thickly built and heavily inked with what Todd assumed were gang tats.
Todd picked at his food. “Ah, not much,” he replied a bit demurely. “It’s a, uh, bento box…with grilled salmon and brown rice, some broccoli. That’s it.”
“Gimme a taste, brah,” Hector suggested, his English thickly accented.
“Well, it’s, uh, all I have and there’s not, um, very much, I’m afraid.”
Hector fixed him in a steely gaze. “Yo, I din’t ask choo how much dere was, gringo,” he snapped. “I said gimme some! In fact, gimme de whole shit!”
Just then, Grady sat down beside Hector. “What’s goin’ on here, homie?” he asked. “You ain’t bothering my pal Todd none, are you…brah?”
Hector lowered his gaze, cowed by the larger man, and stood from the table. “Nah, man, nah. Just makin’ conversation. You know.” With that, he shuffled off.
“Th-thank you,” Todd stammered.
“Don’t thank me none,” Grady answered “We pals, you and me. I gots your back.” Grady opened a brown paper bag, and unwrapped a sandwich. “Speakin’ o’ backs, I got to tell you, buddy, you got a booty almost as fine as that cheatin’ bitch o’ yours. I’d like to see your pussy almost as much as hers.” Todd reddened. “Maybe next time, instead of your wife, you bring me a pic of your snatch, what d’ya say? Maybe pose in a pair o’ your wife’s silky panties for me, hm?”
“I don’t think…I mean…,” Todd began to object.
“I don’t need you to think,” Grady chuckled, taking a big bite out of his sandwich. “I just need you to do as ol’ Grady says, y’hear me? Next time, bring a pic o’ your sweet hole, and I keep losers like Hector off your back. We understand one another?”
Todd nodded defeatedly.
That Saturday, Jessica told Todd that she was going to a friend’s baby shower.
“Which friend,” Todd asked, a bit nervously.
“Uh..Mar…Marissa. A friend from the club. You don’t know her,” Jessica explained.
“Oh.” Todd watched as Jessica finished applying a deep crimson shade of lipstick. “Aren’t you dressed a bit…wild…for a baby shower, though,” Todd inquired, noting the length of his wife’s very short skirt, the accompanying knee-high leather boots, the low-cut top that exposed the deep shadow of her cleavage.
“Don’t be such a prig, Todd,” Jessica chastised him with a laugh, as she stood from her bedroom vanity. “Don’t wait up, honey,” she advised him as she headed toward the front door. “Oh, I’m taking the jag. And, yes, mother, I promise to drive safely,” she added before he could object.
Todd puttered around the house, distraught at being abandoned by his wife on a Saturday night for a supposed friend he didn’t even know.
In the bedroom, Jessica’s dresser seemed to beckon to him. He opened the top drawer, eyeing her array of undergarments. Grady’s words echoed in his mind: “Try on a pair o’ your wife’s silky panties.”
Todd ran a curious hand over the top pair, caressing the material between his fingers. No rayon or polyester for Jessica. Her intimates were of the finest mulberry silks and natural lace. Todd held up one pair of pink, lacey underwear. They were Saint Laurent. He held them to his cheek, enjoying the fine smoothness of the material. Before he knew it, he had dropped his jeans and boxers, and turned toward Jessica’s full-length mirror.
Todd still had many weeks of damned community service ahead of him. It was worth it, he told himself, to keep Grady happy in order to keep dangerous thugs like Hector from troubling him. He stepped into his wife’s pink panties, sliding them up his thin legs and over his rounded buttocks. He frowned as he realized that his boyish cock and balls made almost no visible bulge against the crotch of the underwear. Not quite satisfied, Todd slipped his sweatshirt off over his head, and re-examined himself in the mirror.
He turned to the side, viewing himself in profile. He giggled at the sight of himself in the mirror, and stuck his rear out almost coquettishly, liking the way his plump ass cheeks filled the pink lace. Before he could chicken out, Todd retrieved his phone and snapped a couple of selfies from the waist down. Turning his back to the mirror, he lowered the lingerie halfway down his buttocks and spread his ass crack, revealing a puckered hole. He snapped a couple more selfies, hoping they might satisfy Grady.
Looking at himself full-on, Todd noticed that he had spouted a small erection. He rubbed it through the lace, realizing that his nipples had also grown erect. Reaching up, he twisted them between his fingers, recalling what Grady had said about enlarging them. It seemed silly, but Todd pulled at his pink, boyish nipples, imagining them nearer in size to his wife’s ruddy teats.
As Todd continued to tweak his nipples with one hand, he massaged his prick with the other, suddenly remembering the feel of Grady’s bulge in that same hand. Unexpectedly, he ejaculated into his wife’s panties, filling the fine silk with his watery semen. Shit, he thought, what the fuck is happening to me?
Fifth week:
Their latest service consisted of scrubbing graffiti from beneath highway overpasses. Darren deposited them in pairs at various sites, with brushes and solvents. Grady, who appeared to be in the supervisor’s good graces, requested being paired with Todd, much to Todd’s relief.
As they worked, Grady would occasionally give Todd a friendly grin, but made no other crude overtures or asked to see any new photos. The ball was fully in Todd’s court now. Unable to restrain himself, Todd approached Grady and proffered his phone. “I, uh, hope you like these photos,” he said.
Grady scrolled through the photos of Todd in his wife’s pink lingerie, letting out an approving whistle. “Goddamn, white boy,” he said. “I just knew you had a fine pussy on you.” Again he forwarded the photos to his own phone, this time without any objection from Todd. “Not much hair on you,” Grady observed appreciatively. “But I think it’d be better if you shaved what little there is, don’t you think? It’d make ol’ Grady happy, that’s for sure.”
Grady reached down and helped himself to a handful of Todd’s globular buttocks. “How’d it make you feel, pretty boy, dressing all girlie for your big black daddy? Did it bring out the sissy in you?”
Todd bit his lip, and nodded, finding that he enjoyed the feel of Grady’s strong hand on his ass. “I thought so,” the large black man observed. “Won’t be long now, you’ll be beggin’ Grady to put the wood to you.”
Todd shook his head, but only half-heartedly. “I’m not gay,” he objected.
Grady grinned widely, displaying his gold tooth. “Never said you was, white boy. Never said you was.”
Jessica was waiting for Todd in the living room when he returned home from his community service that evening. “Hi, honey,” he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
Jessica just stared at him blankly for a moment.
“Todd,” she said, holding her phone up to him. “Just what the hell is this?” Todd stared, unbelieving, at a photo of himself in his wife’s pink Saint Laurent undergarments.
“How did you…where did you…I mean, I can explain,” Todd said, his mind racing.
Jessica stood, towering over Todd, especially in her heels. “It turns out that Marcus was the arresting officer of one of your pals from community service. Grady something or other,” Jessica said. “A pal that you have been playing dress up for…in my underwear!”
“Marcus!” Todd felt himself redden at the thought of the black police officer who arrested him in the first place. “When did you see him? Why did you see him?”
“Oh, Todd,” Jessica answered scornfully. “Don’t be so fuckin’ naïve. You know, honestly, if you wanted to experiment, you should have just told me. We could have found some things that fit you better.”
“But I don’t want to…to experiment,” Todd protested. “It was just so, Grady, he, he protected me from the others. It was just, just like…insurance.”
“Nonsense,” Jessica admonished him. Taking him by the hand, she led him to the bedroom. “Strip,” she commanded. “If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it properly.”
Over the next hour or so, Todd was putty in his wife’s hands, as she remade him in her own image. She started with applying hair removal cream to the light down on his chest and his ass. She followed that by shaving his underarm hair and trimming his pubic bush. Whenever he would object, she simply shushed him, assuring him that she knew exactly what she was doing.
She combed his blonde hair out, giving it more body. “We really should think about lightening it,” she suggested. “I bet your man would appreciate that.” When Todd began to stutter in protest, Jessica merely held a finger to his lips, cooing, “This is all for the best, honey. Just trust me, okay?” Todd couldn’t help but recall that it was Jessica who had urged him to race that Impala and who goaded him into stranding up to Marcus and who had counseled him to fight the traffic citation in court. Now, he sat here placidly as she transformed him into a pale imitation of herself.
Satisfied with his hair, Jessica began applying make-up from her selection of Chanel and Dior products. “We’ll have to consider getting you some colors that match your natural hue,” she said, as she contoured his cheeks with rose beige rouge. “I’m a summer, of course, but you’re more of an autumn. My! How I envy your high cheekbones! The color really brings them out.” She proceeded to paint his nails a deep vamp red.
As Jessica looked through her wardrobe, Todd examined himself in the mirror. The face looking back at him was both attractive and ludicrous at the same time. Feminized as he was, he looked more like a caricature of a sissy than a woman.
Jessica dressed him in black lace underwear, explaining that the darker colors suited him better than the pink he had chosen for Grady. She next had him slip into one of her leather skirts, which he was just lean enough to pull off. She completed the ensemble with a red crop halter top that displayed his flat abdomen while adding a bit of a bosom to his otherwise flat chest.
“No sense having you ruin any of my pumps until I can teach you how to walk in them,” she sighed, “so my Gucci flats will have to do for now. You’ll have to earn your heels.” Jessica stood back and admired her handiwork: her financially successful husband transformed into a cross between a debutante and a Tenderloin hooker. “Stunning,” she said.
Just as Todd was about to say that enough was enough, that she had made her point and had her fun, the doorbell rang. “Oh!” Jessica exclaimed. “The boys are here!”
“Boys?” Todd asked in a panic. “What boys? What are you talking about?”
Jessica tapped him on the nose with a long fingernail. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetie,” she admonished him. “I’ll let our guests in. Wait here until I call for you. And for God’s sake, don’t do anything to ruin all my work!” With that Todd’s wife scurried off.
Simultaneously terrified and intrigued by whatever it was his wife was up to, Todd stood before the full-length mirror and examined the full effect of Jessica’s efforts. He pursed his full lips, placed a hand on his hip. As much as he wanted it otherwise, he found that he enjoyed the way he looked. It made him feel naughty, slutty, even oddly powerful, a bit like Jessica herself. He raised himself to his toes, and found that he wished he could wear high heels. Jessica’s stilettos would look marvelous with this outfit. He adjusted the contour of his halter top, to better fit his lack of cleavage. Once again, he found himself thinking about enlarging his nipples as Grady had suggested. Erect teats displayed against the fabric of his top would distract from the flatness of his chest.
“Honey,” Jessica called from downstairs. “Todd! It’s time for your entrance!”
Todd sighed and moved to the head of the stairs, nervous and uncertain what to expect. “Come on, don’t be shy,” Jessica called, teasingly. As he walked slowly down, he gasped inwardly at the sight of Jessica standing at the foot of the stairs, Grady and Marcus on either side of her.
“Goddamn,” intoned Grady in his resonant voice. “Does that bitch look fuckin’ sexy!”
Marcus, in full uniform, looking much as he had the day he arrested Todd, said, “I have to admit, babe, you do good work. Not much man left there…not that there was really much to begin with.” Jessica sniggered at the jibe.
As Todd reached the bottom step, Grady reached out and pulled the feminized young man into an embrace, his brawny arms encircling Todd’s lithe frame. “C’mere, you hot bitch,” he laughed. “Give Grady a hug!” Todd virtually disappeared in the larger man’s burly arms, self-conscious in front of Jessica and Marcus. Grady cupped a hand under Todd’s chin, raising the white sissy’s face to his own, and planted an unexpected kiss on Todd’s ruby lips, smearing the freshly applied lipstick. Grady’s tongue invaded Todd’s mouth, eliciting a protesting if ineffectual squeal.
“Damn,” chortled Marcus. “They really do make a sexy couple, don’t they?”
“Didn’t I tell you, hon,” Jessica agreed. “I just knew that this is exactly what Todd needed.”
Todd wiggled free of Grady’s embrace. “You knew? What…what do you mean you knew?” he asked his wife.
“Oh, honey,” Jessica giggled. “You’ve never been much of a man, not like Marcus here, anyway. I always knew you were a sissy at heart, just like you told me those boys in high school always used to call you. You don’t have to hide it anymore. Isn’t that awesome?” Jessica took Todd by the hand. “Now, come on! It’s time I taught you how to suck black dick!”
Over the next hour, Jessica demonstrated her oral acumen on Marcus’ enormous black prong, a curved scimitar of a cock that jutted aggressively from the open fly of his dark blue uniform.
Grady sat beside Marcus on the living room sofa, the married white couple kneeling before both black men as Jessica gave her husband a cocksucking tutorial. Todd was a reluctant protegee at first, balking on the sight of his beautiful wife slurping contentedly on another man’s prick. Eventually, though, he realized that he was even more aroused at seeing Jessica pleasure another man than he was either hurt or angry. The few times that she had wrapped her lips around his own much smaller penis, she displayed nothing like the frenzy she applied to Marcus’ dark brown pole.
When Grady unzipped his fly, and hauled out his prodigious meat, both Jessica and Todd gasped. Todd, who had protested to Grady just that afternoon that he was not gay, could not take his eyes off the thick, foreskinned slab of beef that presented itself to him.
Jessica wrapped a small white hand around the girth of Grady’s prick, proffering it to her sissified husband. Todd’s eyes were drawn to the gold of her wedding ring against the mahogany flesh. Stroking her dainty hand along the bloated shaft, Jessica said, “Go on, honey. You know you want to.”
Both Marcus and Grady voiced their own encouragement. “Be the faggot you know yourself to be,” Marcus sneered.
“Go on, and show my black dick some love, white boy,” Grady invited. “I been waiting for that mouth for a long time, now.”
Todd parted his lips, and welcomed the behemoth of a prick into his mouth.
Later that evening, Marcus and Grady had the loving couple bent over the back of the sofa, rutting into their raised, welcoming asses. Todd marveled at the pleasure it gave him to have Grady’s massive prong massage his prostate. As Todd moaned with an appreciation that shocked himself, Jessica turned and pressed her open mouth to that of her husband. The married couple exchange sloppy wet kisses even as the two domineering black men flooded their insides with thick, African batter. Filled to overflowing, Todd exuberantly surrendered the last vestiges of whatever manhood he had left.
Tenth week:
Darren ushered Todd and Grady into his office. “Well, Worthington,” he said. “You’ve completed your community service, and I’ll be happy to sign off on your court paperwork.”
Todd, in pink yoga pants and a yellow, blouse, thanked the supervisor. Over the last month, he had let his hair grow out, and lightened it as his wife had suggested. He had suctioned his nipples until they were engorged and perky in the thin fabric of his blouse. They remained a work in progress, and Todd looked forward to making them much larger for Grady’s pleasure. He wore bright, loud make-up, affecting a rather sluttish demeanor that his black daddy seemed to appreciate.
“Thank you, so much, sir,” Todd said to the middle-aged black man, who remained completely unperturbed by the many changes Todd had affected in recent weeks. “But what about Grady. Aren’t you going to sign off on the completion of his service, too?”
Darren looked at the sissy in confusion. “Well, no,” he explained. “Grady here completed his community service five weeks ago. He’s just been showing up for work details to keep you company, it seems.”
Todd’s mouth dropped open. “What? Really?”
Grady drew his white sissy into a welcome embrace.
“Well, damn it, girl,” he confessed. “Someone hadda keep an eye out for a pretty thing like you. No telling what kind of shit a sweet bitch might get herself into.”
Todd wrapped his arms around his black daddy’s massive shoulders.
“Thank you, daddy,” he said, planting multiple kisses on Grady’s bearded cheek. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“Okay, you two lovebirds,” Darren sighed. “Take it outside. I got to call my own old lady.”
With their arms wrapped around one another, Todd and Grady exited Darren’s work trailer, and headed for the fusion red Tesla awaiting them in the parking lot.
