Another Moment of Weakness

775 Days

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You wished you knew what caused these moments. You had a man that loved you. You had a woman that loved you. But here you were, outside a mobile home, dolled up in pink lipsticks, a black wig, thong panties, high heels, fishnet stockings, and a short pink skirt, knocking on the door.

Trevor came out, shirtless, body covered in tattoos. He was smoking a cheap cigarette. He looked at you, and it took a moment. You'd changed a fair bit, after all.

"You're that bitch Amanda's little pansy boy," Trevor said. He knew he wasn't a finalist, it appeared. "What are you doing here?"

"Umm, I thought you might like to have some fun," you said, shakily. He grinned lecherously, pulling you inside.

He put on some music, and you danced with him, grinding against him. You should be with Jackson tonight. Or at least Bruna and Amanda. But instead, you were grinding your tight Cuban ass back against Trevor, feeling his big cock.

"You want to be my punk, bitch?" he said, pushing his hand down the front of your panties, squeezing your vestigal sex organ. You whimpered, grinding back against him. He pulled your skirt up to your waist, and put you, not into the doggie position, but on your back on the laminated, dirty floor. He lubed himself up quickly, and you watched him. That muscular frame, covered in tattoos. That big cock, those heavy balls. Your limp, useless cock twitched in anticipation.

"Please," you whimpered. "Please fuck me." You felt him slowly slide into you.

"Fucking prissy ass punk," he muttered. "Fucking pansy." He pushed deep inside you.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," you whined. He felt so good.

"Fucking hang around here much more, make you a fucking ****," Trevor said, pushing his cock in and out. His green eyes were staring into you, staring into your soul, watching you tumble down the rabbit hole. His cock was working your prostate now, and it wouldn't take much longer ...

"Fucckkkk," you whined.

"Maybe mark your ass," he said. "A nice big ole Confederate flag inked right above your cock. So that bitch will see it. Everyone will see it and know just who your Master is." He growled his cock burrowed so deep inside you. You knew his words were wrong. They were repugnant. But in that moment, so deep in that rabbit hole, he broke your brain. Your cock swelled briefly, almost the size you used to be soft, and started to shoot ropes of seedless cum, all the way up to your hormone-fed breasts.

"My, my," Trevor said. "Pansy likes that." He moved his body over yours, exercising supreme control to avoid cumming in you too early, and started to whisper dark, taboo plans into your ear, right into your brain.

It felt like you'd been there for days when you finally left, your back dirty, Trevor's cum leaking out of your ass, your front covered in your own cum. Trevor kissed you, and you melted.

"Come as a blonde next time, ****."