A New Toy

Chapter 2: A Shift of Control

He knew he was no match for Sarah's new form. He could only hope that she would be gentle with him.

Sarah's eyes roamed over Josh's body, taking in his petite frame, his smooth skin, and the faint hint of his cock. She smirked, feeling a thrill of power course through her veins.

"On your knees, slut," she commanded, her voice laced with authority. Josh hesitated for a moment before dropping to his knees, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked up at Sarah, his eyes wide with fear and anticipation.

The air in the apartment was thick with tension as Sarah towered over Josh, her eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and dominance. The living room, formerly a space of shared laughter and comfort, now echoed with the harsh command of her voice. Josh, once a man of six feet, now knelt at her feet, his petite body trembling with a cocktail of fear and arousal.

Sarah's breath hitched as she took in the sight of Josh's transformed body. His once broad shoulders were now narrow, his chest flat and smooth. His 1 inch hard cock, barely visible, rested between his thighs, a pathetic appendage in contrast to Sarah's monstrous 17 inch futa cock.

She smiled cruelly, her eyes gleaming with malice as she grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. Josh winced at the sudden pain, but he knew better than to resist.

"Look at that pathetic little cock," Sarah sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're nothing but a useless twink, aren't you, Josh?" She pushed his head down, forcing him to look at her cock. "Now, suck it, bitch. Show me what you can do."

Josh hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth and taking the head of Sarah's cock into his mouth. He gagged as he felt the massive head of her cock hit the back of his throat.

He tried to pull back, but Sarah's grip on his hair was too strong. She held him in place, her hips thrusting forward, fucking his mouth with a brutal intensity.

"Take it, you little slut," she growled, her voice laced with lust and power. "Take every inch of my cock like a good little whore."

Josh felt tears streaming down his face as he struggled to breathe. He could feel his own cock throbbing, his body responding to the humiliation and pain. He was hard, his 1 inch cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor.

Sarah pulled him off her cock, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

"You look like a little bitch on your knees," she taunted, her voice dripping with disdain. "Look at you, all tiny and pathetic." Josh could feel the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, his body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal.

Sarah grabbed him by the hair again, this time pulling him to his feet. She pushed him roughly against the wall, her massive body pressing against his smaller frame. He could feel her breath on his neck, her hot, wet mouth trailing kisses down to his ear.

"You've always been a disappointment, Josh," she whispered, her voice laced with venom.

"But maybe it's time you learned your place." Her hands roamed over his body, pinching and squeezing his soft flesh as if testing its limits. He could feel the heat of her touch, even through his clothes.

Sarah stepped back and started to undress him, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. His cock was still hard and straining against his jeans as she unzipped them and pushed them down to the floor. His boxers followed suit, leaving him completely exposed.

She chuckled darkly as she took in the sight of his small cock. "Just like I thought, you little femboy," she snarled, her voice dripping with contempt.

"You're fucking pathetic." She grabbed his cock, her massive hand easily wrapping around it. She squeezed, hard, making Josh gasp in pain. "This tiny little thing is all you've got? No wonder I was never satisfied."

Josh whimpered, trying to pull away, but Sarah's grip was like iron. She laughed, a harsh, cruel sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Where do you think you're going, slut? We're just getting started."

She spun him around, pushing him face-first against the wall. He could feel the cold surface against his cheek, his breath fogging up the paint.