Brock says 'no'

"No, this isn't right," said Brock. "I thought I was going to punish you but, now I...I just want to get on with my own life. My heterosexual life. I can't lie, you are adorable now -- and sexy, obviously -- but I'm not a woman anymore, and I'm not into dicks. And I'm not going to turn you into a woman just so I can get ****. Look, just...just sit here for a minute while I go wash my...er...uh, just give me a minute."

Brock quickly got up and went to the master bathroom, while the huge load in his pants dripping down his leg only added to his confusion and embarrassment. Dinky pouted as he watched the tall stud go. A mix of lust and longing made him sigh, and his brain (such as it was) struggled to figure out how to get satisfaction.

Why doesn't he like me? I know I used to be a bad man -- is he keeping his willy away to punish me? But his willy likes me! It shot lots of happy juice in his pants! But I want it in my bussy! I don't care if he's straight!Women are so lucky! It's not fair!

Dinky's thoughts stopped short as he noticed the silver phone on the dresser. He could use it to make himself a woman, and than Brock would fuck him! He slid off the bed and padded to it, his plump rear wiggling like a puppy tail as he went. He picked it up and saw the last profile that was used: Brock. Dinky pouted again. With his reduced IQ he could not figure out how to change the profile. However, he could make changes on the one in front of him.

Maybe this is even better than turning myself into an icky girl! I can just make Brock like boys like me! But how do I...oh, he said the problem was he's het-o-row-sexual. I think that's what that word is.

Dinky deleted "heterosexual" but, unable to remember the word "homosexual," he typed in "gay."

There! But what if that's not good enough? I know! I'll add a couple things!

Dinky changed "gay" to "really really gay," then he looked at Brock's other traits. Most of the terms did not make sense to the dim-witted femboy, so instead of changing anything he just added "loves Dinky," "wants to fuck all the time," and then, as an afterthought, "likes vanilla ice cream." Vanilla was Dinky's favorite, and he wanted to make sure he had something other than sex in common with his boyfriend.

With all the changes done, Dinky suppressed a girlish squeal, tossed the phone aside, and hopped on the bed. He closed his eyes and smiled as he heard Brock enter the room. He smiled even wider when he heard Brock unzip his pants, and by the time he heard Brock's clothes fall to the floor he could not keep his eyes shut any longer.

In front of him stood the most perfectly muscled man he had every seen. His nine-inch erection pointed proudly at the ceiling. His dark eyes sparkled. His hips sashayed side to side as he limply lifted his hands.

"Ta-da! Like what you thee, honey?" lisped Brock. "I hope tho, becauth I changed my mind and I really want to have thex now."

Dinky hopped up and down on the bed, his limp little dicklet flopping with excitement. Without a word, he lay back, grabbed his own knees, and presented his pale, plump ass.

"Oh, not like that, thilly," said Brock. "Like thith!"

Brock turned around, bent over, and seductively wiggled his ass as he held his ankles.

"Go on, honey," said Brock with a breathy voice. "Fuck me!"