"Plan B, it is then."

No sooner do the words fall from your lips than the trailer doors burst open and a sea of sissies spill forth, screaming shrill like harpies from Hell and bearing down on the army of atavistic assholes before you.

"What the fuck?!" Jack is the first to fall. Overwhelmed by sheer numbers, he struggles in vain as his 'friends' flee with you in tow. You get a good view of your cute comrades peeling his clothes off and plunging their pretty pricks into both of his tight, terrified holes. They waste no time with foreplay, rutting and ravishing the burly brute and muffling his screams with ropes of sissy spurts. Just before you are ferreted into your foe's fortified trailer, you see him shrink and soften and shift as the infection is **** upon him.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fucking fuck fuck fuck! You never said anything about getting **** and turned into a sissy, you college boi cunt!" John is terrified, and futilely trying to hide his quivering cowardice in impotent rage. You see his would be army look on in horror as 'Jaqueline' eagerly accepts her new fate and bucks back against the sissy shafts sawing in and out of her beautiful bimboi body.

"Shut the fuck up before you **** me to show you how little I need you." Joe gives John a look that makes your blood run cold. Of the three, he's the only one that scares you. There is something missing in him, and even Samantha isn't able to find the good in him. You keep your mouth shut for now, content to let the two simmer while you all watch and wait on screen for what happens next.

The deconstruction crew gathered outside the site outnumber the sissies at least three to one, but the sight of giant Jack being overwhelmed and turned out has them shaking in their steel toed boots. Sure, if push comes to shove, they should be able to beat back the sissies eventually, but each man assembled is wondering if they will be one of the ones to fall and suffer whatever fate the Two J's have planned for the fallen femmebois.

Finally, Joe turns on the intercom and screams with a cracking voice. "What is wrong with you?! Are you men or are you bois? You outnumber them. You are bigger than them. You are a part of a rare, superior race of REAL men! Are you going to tell your grandchildren about the time you turned tail and run from a bunch of gurls?! Or are you going to tell them about how you captured your own personal harem and bloodied any bitch that didn't know well enough to heel?!"

You've got to hand it to him, Joe's instinct for human weakness rivals your own. Sure, the money got them to the party, but no amount of cash or threats could get them to risk what they prized most...their manhood. By telling them the only way to keep their manhood was to risk it, and sweetening the deal by offering the defeated sissies up as slaves, he found the one thing to inspire them to charge your sissy sisters en masse.

Your heart is in your chest and your stomach in knots as the crew rushes your army. The sissies hold fast behind Samantha, and you feel tears of pride stinging your eyes as you hear her scream, "We're gonna fuck you till you love us!" and charges forward with her entire army in tow. The sound of bodies colliding and hard, heavy tools hurled against each other is followed by sickening snaps of bones.

You know your gurls will heal nearly instantly thanks to the bimbug's nearly inexhaustible ability to repair damaged cells. And though they are quickly overrun, the paid punks fight like the mindless louts they are, charging forward straight ahead and relying solely on brute ****. The sissies, on the other hand, slip between the studs with the grace of gazelles and spring up behind them bounding high like ballerina's and crashing down on them with shovels, wrenches, rebars and anything else it takes to bring them down hard and hump them until they turn sticky and soft.

For the first few minutes, you almost let yourself believe your side can win. Then studs begin yanking sissies off fallen studs and stomping them into the ground until they curl up into battered, broken balls. When you hear Samantha's defiant cry cut short as she is snapped over a stud's knee and held limp and helpless in the air, your heart stops, and so does your sissy army. Without Samantha to lead them, they lose what little will they have left, and fall to their knees begging for mercy. They don't know Joe the way you do. He has no mercy.

You fight back tears as Samantha is held like a tattered trophy, still breathing, but out like a light. You have lost completely. You led your fellow sissies straight off a cliff. You wonder how many the two J's will spare, and if the dead might not end up the lucky ones after they get their hands on them. You hang your head in shame, not even able to fake defiance in the face of such abject failure.

"GAH HAAAW HAAAW! You almost had me worried there for a second...almost! This calls for a toast! Joe, bring over that Macallan the fag was saving for if he ever turned a profit. We can toast to him making us twenty percent richer with Jack gone!" John is all bluster and boasting now that his side one, and Joe doesn't seem inclined to correct his math now that he will be getting the lion's share.

"Why not? We've earned it." Joe turns his back to you, clearly deciding you are no longer a threat. He pops open the fine aged scotch and pours two glasses. You see the stud soldiers hog tying the sissies with zip ties on the monitors and wonder how much longer they have before the two J's give the final order. They clink glasses and toast, "To crime." And they down their drinks in one shot.

Joe turns and smiles sadistically at you and John cracks his knuckles and licks his lips. You won't have to wait long to see what they have in store for you. Joe pulls out a handgun almost as big as his arm and points it at your head. "I just want you to know that I am going to spend years cutting Samantha to bits and watching her body try to heal itself. Is there any last words you want me to pass on when I finally end her wretched waste of a life?"