Yes you do!

"The butt plug," you blurted out, the curiosity burning through your hesitation. "You said... it’s like some kind of training, what does it have to do with any of this?"

Taylor’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Oh, totally everything. It’s like... your hole is this incredible muscle, right? And most people have no idea how to really use it, they just clench up and the sex doesn't feel good at all. But if you train it well, to be lose and easy to enter, while still being able to clench around whats entering you... it becomes this whole other source of pleasure. For both of you." He shifted on the couch, and you could almost feel the phantom sensation he was describing. "And honestly? Wearing it all the time... it’s this constant, low-level hum of arousal. It reminds you that you’re always ready, always open for your man. It’s kind of like a promise in a way."

"You know," Taylor added, a playful drunken glint in his eyes, "it's probably one of those things you'd understand better if you saw it." He gave you a sly smile. "Words only go soooo far." To your surprise, Taylor pushed himself up from the couch in a kind of clumsy, drunken motion. Then he stood for a moment, with his impressively lean but still defined back to you, and the sight of his butt made your breath catch.

His lean, athletic build was all tight muscle and smooth skin, he clearly takes care of himself and his looks. Your eyes instantly locked onto the bold black fist tattoo on his toned right thigh. It looked aggressive, permanent, a stark black mark against his pale skin. You didn't really get it, but you couldn't deny it looked kinda hot.

You now had a perfect view of his backside, the tight, thin fabric of his speedo was stretched taut across his ass, and the outline of the plug's thick base was shockingly, perfectly clear. It was a distinct, circular bulge nestled right between the pale, firm globes of his butt, pressing the fabric outward and creating a shadow that emphasized the round, full shape of his ass. It looked both obscene and incredibly hot at the same time, and it seemed like Taylor loved knowing, that everyone would be able to see that he was plugged up.

"You are not really showing it to him like that," Dior's voice cut through the haze, low and commanding. "The fabric's in the way. If you're going to show him, Taylor, show him properly. Let him see what a good, trained bottom looks like."

Dior's command hung in the air, thick and unarguable, at first you didn't really know what he meant by it as a flicker of somethin, maybe hesitation, crossed Taylor's face, but it seemingly was quickly smothered by a wave of eager submission. This was an order from his Man, his owner, there was no question of refusal.

"Of course," Taylor murmured, his voice dropping slightly as he turned his head to give Dior a look of pure devotion before turning to face you, a slow, seductive smile playing on his lips. He then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his speedo.

The movement was agonizingly slow and erotic as he peeled the tight fabric down over his hips, revealing the sharp V-lines of his pelvis, then the root of his caged dick. By now you were kind of desensitized by this kind of nudity so you were more curious then alarmed by what was going on in front of you. But before you could see Taylor's caged dick for a second time today he turned around again as he pushed the speedo lower. He bent forward and the fabric was pulled tight across his lower back, revealing another tattoo. Right above the crack of his ass, it said 'Black Owned' in simple, strong letters. It was so... direct like some kind of brand. Your brain still stuttered, trying to process it, but your dick just throbbed in your trunks for some reason.

As he pushed the speedo below his butt, the base of the butt plug came fully into view. It was large, black, and in the center of the base was a big, bold spade symbol, a perfect match for the tattoo on his arm. It looked obscene, the way the wide, black silicone pushed the pale cheeks of his ass apart, claiming that space as its own.

He continued his slow descent, bending forward slightly as he slid the speedo down his toned pale thighs, giving you an even better view. The plug seemed impossibly big, a dark intruder that made his ass look even paler, more vulnerable by comparison. He finally stepped out of the scrap of fabric and tossed it aside, standing before you completely naked. With the speedo gone, the tattoo on his right ass cheek was totally out in the open, 'BBC ONLY' it said, with a little spade underneath it. Seeing it right next to the black plug stretching his hole open... it just clicked perfectly into place. It wasn't even the craziest thing you'd seen today, which was a pretty fucked up thought, but it was definitely one of the hottest.

Your own dick was now painfully hard, straining against the tight swim trunks. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

"It's the biggest I've ever worn outside," Taylor said, his voice a little breathy as he reached back and lightly traced the edge of the plug with his fingertips. "Dior wanted me to really feel the stretch today. I love it, though. It feels... complete in a way, like I’m fulfilling my purpose." He gave a little experimental shake of his butt, and the black spade seemed to wink at you, the movement making his whole ass jiggle in a way that was hypnotizing.

From his place on the couch, Dior let out a low chuckle. He reached out and delivered a light, stinging slap to one of Taylor's pale buttocks, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Looks damn good," Dior rumbled, his voice thick with approval. "That's a perfect white pussy, ready and waiting. How it should be." As he spoke, he confidently adjusted the thick and by now very clearly stiff bulge in his own trunks. The outline was immense, snaking down his pant leg and the head seemed to be almost peeking out at the very hem. If he just shifted his weight, you were sure you'd see it. The sight sent a jolt of confused excitement through you. You weren't sure if you wanted to look away or stare forever.

"Bend over more," Dior commanded. "Hands on the couch. Give our confused little white friend here a real show."

Taylor obeyed instantly, bending at the waist and placing his palms flat on the couch cushions. The position thrust his smooth ass out, presenting it to you. From this angle, you could see all of his marks at once. The 'Black Owned' stamp above his hole, the 'BBC ONLY' on his cheek. You felt like you shouldn't be looking, but you literally couldn't stop.

The black plug was nestled deep inside him, but you could also see the underside of the cock cage, his tight, drawn-up balls held captive by the metal rings. It felt so strange, seeing someone lock up his cock because he deemed it useless and pathetic compared to a Black Man's. Then a thought echoed in your own mind: How in the hell is anyone suppose to be able to keep up with the cock of a black man anyway?

Wait... did you really just think that? You'd never had a thought like that before. Where was this coming from?

Before you could unravel the knot in your own head, you were pulled back to the present by a soft, slick sound. You focused on Taylor's ass and saw that the plug was twitching a bit. It was moving, sliding out just a fraction, then being pulled back in by the clench of his muscles. He was pushing it out, then letting his body suck it back in and it was the most erotic thing you had ever seen, a silent, rhythmic fucking of himself.

"Yeah," Dior's voice was a low, appreciative growl. "Look at that. See how loose it makes him? See how that pretty little pussy just opens right up?" He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Taylor's ass, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Go on, Taylor. Why don't you show him? Give that confused white boy a real show. Show him how good a loose pussy looks on a white boy."