Best try on Chrome browser.
The sun cast a harsh glare on the untouched lawn of the Costello country house. Quinn’s F150, a beast of steel and chrome, roared down the street, returning early from a grueling day at the construction site, his muscles aching and his temper flaring. ” boss, he better pay us for this afternoon. ‘Oh, you can take the rest of the day off,'” he said, poorly mimicking his boss’s voice. The sight of Oliver’s car, a dainty little number that looked more at home in a dollhouse than the real world, parked in the driveway set his jaw tighter. Oliver had promised to cut the grass, but it was still a wild jungle that hadn’t seen a mower in weeks.
Quinn slammed the truck door shut. His work boots pounded a steady rhythm. His hand was already curling into a fist when he spotted the open bedroom window on the first floor. Oliver was supposed to be working outside, and Quinn wondered what the little pansy was up to. He usually took good care of the gardens, but he’d been slacking off lately, doing who knows what. He needs a good talking to, Quinn thought, and I’m just the man to do it.
Quinn peered through the window, his eyes widening. Inside, the room looked like it had been ransacked by a tornado of lace and satin. Oliver’s slender form was perched on the edge of the bed, surrounded by Mrs. Costello’s intimate apparel. The little shit had the audacity to look through his wife’s personal things! And not just look, but put them on. He saw the strange sight of Oliver’s delicate fingers hooking up a little black corset around his breasts which looked amazingly real, Quinn thought and standing before the mirror wearing red panties showing his bulging cock and black stockings and a garter belt. The feminine boy was either wearing a wig or had dyed his hair in a cute short purple cut. He seemed to be applying lipstick.
Quinn stood beside the window, turning every now and then to peek inside. Oliver sometimes seemed to act like a girl, but Quinn never expected to see this, and the sight was, well, intriguing. Oliver’s body was slim and toned, with the muscles of a boy and the curves of a girl. Seeing him in lingerie was pushing into uncharted territory.
Quinn stole to the front door and turned the knob just enough to slip through. He quietly took off his boots, then tiptoed to the bedroom door. He could hear Oliver’s soft moans as he pushed the door open.
As Quinn burst into the room, Oliver was applying the pink lipstick he had found on Mrs. Costello’s makeup table. He spun around, his eyes wide with terror, the lipstick tube falling from his trembling hand and rolling under the bed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Quinn bellowed as Oliver’s heart hammered against his ribs, his breath coming in panicked gasps. Quinn looked like a giant in the doorway, his broad shoulders and muscular frame standing well above Oliver’s slender figure in the feminine underthings.
The feminine boy’s cheeks flushed. He stuttered, trying to form words that would explain everything, but they were lost to him. He could find no way to talk about this. He had been caught redhanded and had nowhere to hide.
Quinn took another step into the room, focusing on Oliver, who was shivering in fear. He could see the curves of Oliver’s small boobs in the bra, and his little cock was pressing against the silky fabric of the red panties. The sight was infuriating. Shaking his head, Quinn clenched his fists, fighting the urge to march over and rip the lacy garments from Oliver’s body, to show him who was in charge here.
“You like playing dress up, huh?” Quinn sneered. “Think you’re some kind of punk girl?” He stepped closer, flipping his hand over Oliver’s purple hair. Oliver flinched and cowered against the closet door, fluttering his arms as he tried to hide himself. His eyes darted to the room’s door, calculating his chances of escape, but Quinn’s dominating presence prohibited any movement.
Oliver swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said, and a few tears came to his eyes, running down his powdered cheeks. “It’s just… I didn’t mean…” His words trailed off again as he searched for an excuse that wouldn’t sound as pathetic as he felt.
Quinn’s eyes narrowed, his gaze traveling the length of Oliver’s body, taking in every detail of the shameless display. The purple wig looked surprisingly good on him, the short bob framing his delicate features and giving him an edgy yet innocent look. The black stockings hugged his legs and toned thighs, leading Quinn’s eyes to the garter belt that cinched around his narrow waist. And those red panties, they hid Oliver’s secret.
“I said, get over here,” Quinn repeated. “And stop crying, or I’ll give you something to cry for.” The boy’s eyes darted to the door again, causing Quinn to say, “Don’t even think about it, girl,” before taking a tentative step forward, his stockinged feet slipping over the hardwood floor. Quinn’s hand shot out, catching Oliver’s wrist in a grip and tugging him closer, so close that their chests almost touched. Oliver could feel the heat radiating from Quinn’s body.
“Now, tell me why you’re in here, in my wife’s clothes, dressed up like a little slut,” Quinn demanded, his breath hot against Oliver’s cheek.
Oliver’s eyes fell to the floor, shaking in fear. “III don’t know,” he stuttered, feeling more tears fall down his cheeks.
Quinn’s grip on Oliver’s wrist tightened, his thumb brushing against the skin, where he could feel his pulse racing.
“Look at me,” Quinn ordered as Oliver’s eyes slowly lifted, his pupils dilating as they met Quinn’s intense gaze. He searched for any hint of understanding in those stormy eyes.
“You’re not who I thought you were,” Quinn said, his voice a low growl, “Shit, you’re not the boy I thought you were. You’re just a naughty little girl.” His free hand reached out, tracing the curve of Oliver’s waist, his thumb dipping down to graze the top of the boy’s cock.
Oliver gasped, his body responding instinctively to the touch. Quinn’s eyes never left his face, watching as the blush deepened and Oliver’s breathing grew shallow.
“Is that what you like? Is that what you are, Oliver?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “A naughty girl who needs to be punished?”
Oliver’s eyes met Quinn’s. “I don’t know,” he said, more tears dripping down his face. “Please don’t hurt me.”
The silence was deafening. The man and the Fem Boy stared at each other, and Oliver’s pulse thrummed under Quinn’s touch as he felt the man’s other hand slowly, teasingly, trace the line of his jaw, his neck, and then down to the swell of his breast, still confined by the black lace.
With a sudden jerk, Quinn pushed Oliver back on the bed, where the boy landed in a heap of lingerie and discarded clothing. The mattress groaned, and the bed springs squeaked a protest. As Oliver sat up on the edge of the bed, his eyes went wide, his breathing shallow as Quinn towered over him, his dominating presence amplified by the difference in their sizes and their clothing. She cowered, her hands coming up to cover her chest and the storm she had unleashed.
“Please. Please,” she said, “don’t hurt me.”
Quinn’s eyes raked over Oliver’s body, his gaze lingering on the Fem Boy’s erection that was now painfully obvious against the red fabric of Mrs. Costello’s panties.
“Hurt you? Maybe I will. You might deserve it. You’re a little tease, aren’t you?” he said, his voice low and filled with danger. The Fem Boy bit her lip, her eyes flicking up to meet Quinn’s before darting away again.
“Do you still think you’re a boy, Oliver?” Quinn asked. “Maybe I should call you Olivia? That’s more suitable for a naughty girl like you.”
Olivia trembled, not knowing what to say. She shuddered as Quinn yelled, “Answer me, slut.” She remained silent, in fear.
“OK then, bitch. Pull down my pants,” Quinn ordered, his tone this time demanding a reaction. Olivia’s hands trembled as she slowly reached for the waistband of Quinn’s pants. She hesitated, sniffling away her tears, until Quinn slapped her hand away, unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down himself. Quinn’s cock sprang free, thick and hard, the head glistening. Olivia’s eyes widened, her own cock pulsing at the sight. He had never seen a man’s cock up close like this before, had never felt the power of another’s desire so plainly.
“You like that, don’t you, my little fairy? I see you looking at it,” Quinn taunted, his voice dripping with lustful malice.
Olivia nodded, unable to speak, her gaze transfixed by the throbbing organ Quinn waved in front of her.
“Why don’t you give it a kiss,” Quinn demanded, his hand coming up to cup the back of Olivia’s head. “You know you want to.”
She tried to turn her head as the cock brushed against her lips, but Quinn bought her head back and again pushed the velvety tip of his cock to her lips. “I said suck it, bitch. Don’t make me tell you again.”
The taste was salty and foreign, but the power play had Olivia feeling strange and excited. She kissed Quinn’s cock gently, tentatively, her mind racing with the sudden thought that she was becoming a cocksucker, like the other boys sometimes called her. She again hesitated until Quinn’s hand tightened in her hair, forcing her head back and exposing her throat. He forced his cock past her lips, and Olivia suddenly found her mouth watering around it.
“You’re gonna suck my cock, and you’re gonna like it. That’s what sluts do,” he said, pushing deeper into her mouth with a roughness that was painful. Her eyes watered, and she tried to resist, but Quinn was bigger and stronger. She began to suck, her tongue mashed against Quinn’s shaft, feeling his hands on the back of her head, guiding his cock between her pink lips.
Quinn’s eyes rolled back as Olivia’s mouth worked him over. The boy was dressed like a girl and sucking Quinn’s cock, whether she liked it or not, and it was driving Quinn wild. He began to thrust, his hips pumping as he grabbed her bobbing head, his cock sliding in and out of the wet warmth of the Fem Boy’s mouth. She choked, gagging around the thick length, but Quinn liked the feeling and didn’t stop pumping, his dominance over the petite Fem Boy heightening his pleasure.
Precum dripped into her mouth, and Olivia drooled over its taste and the force Quinn used on her. She knew she was pulling Quinn to the brink, but was surprised when she realized her own cock was painfully hard in her panties. Was she really liking this? She found herself moaning around the much bigger cock in her mouth, the sound muffled but sending vibrations through Quinn’s body, making him even more aggressive.
Quinn’s hand left Olivia’s head to rip at the corset, tearing it away from the Fem Boy’s body with a growl. Her breasts spilled out, the sight of the curves adding to Quinn’s desire. He grabbed one, squeezing it hard enough to make Olivia whimper, his fingers pinching the nipple. “You like it rough, don’t you?” Quinn said, his voice thick with need. Olivia felt she had no choice but to nod her agreement, her eyes watering as Quinn’s cock hit the back of her throat. She felt her own cock was begging for release, and she felt excited and ashamed. She was a cocksucker, like they all called her.
Quinn leaned over, his breath hot and heavy on Olivia’s face as he whispered, “You’re going to get exactly what you deserve, my little slut.” And with that, he pulled her hair, making her stand up, as he sat down on the bed. He pulled Olivia down beside him, then pushed her face back into his crotch.
“Keep sucking, you cock whore,” he said, as she knelt beside him on the bed and took his cock back into her mouth
“Good girl,” Quinn moaned as he leaned over and yanked down the slutty red panties, exposing the Fem Boy’s cute bubble butt. It was a perfect target, the pale skin marred only by the black garter belt framing it and clinging to her thighs. Quinn’s hand came down in a sharp smack, the sound echoing through the room as Olivia’s body jolted with the impact. The pain was immediate and intense, but it melded with the pleasure in a way that made her toes curl.
Quinn continued to spank Olivia’s virgin ass, telling her it was the punishment for her disobedience and shameless behavior. Each smack came down harder than the last, until her ass was a deep shade of red. She moaned and squirmed, crying as the sting of each blow served to remind her of her submission to Quinn, as she continued to suck and tongue his cock. Quinn’s right hand was relentless, raining pain and pleasure on her flesh, while the left grabbed her arms and held her immobile.
His cock slipped out of her mouth and she eagerly sought it again.
“Please Sir,” Olivia begged, “I want some more.”
She felt her own orgasm building, the pressure coiling in his stomach, her cock pulsing in time with the smacks. But as she was about to cum, Quinn grabbed her and pushed her over onto her back, his strong hands gripping the Fem Boy’s hips.
“Don’t you dare cum before me, Olivia,” he warned, his voice a dark promise of what might happen if she did. Her eyes went wide with surprise and need, her body quivering with the effort to hold back. She had never been denied like this before, and it made her want it more.
Quinn leaned down, his teeth grazing the Fem Boy’s earlobe as he whispered, “You’re going to cum only when I let you.” His words were a command and Olivia nodded frantically, closing her eyes and clutching her fists in an effort to obey.
The man’s calloused hand reached down and wrapped around Olivia’s cock, giving it a firm, possessive squeeze. Her hips bucked, her body desperately seeking release. He began to stroke the Fem Boy’s organ, his fingers circling the sensitive head as he spat on it and spread the spittle around her cock and balls. His eyes bore into her, watching every twitch and gasp. Olivia’s breath was coming in ragged gasps, her nails digging into the bedspread as she fought to hold back the tide of pleasure that was consuming her.
Quinn enjoyed watching the Fem Boy squirm and moan. He leaned in, his mouth close to Olivia’s ear as he whispered, “You want it, slut, don’t you? You want to be my dirty little slut.” Olivia nodded again, unable to form words, too afraid to let herself go and displease Quinn, her entire being focused on the hand that was driving her closer and closer to the edge.
Quinn chuckled, the sound dark and sinful, and leaned in to claim the Fem Boy’s mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue pushed past Olivia’s lips, exploring and conquering, as his hand worked faster and faster. Olivia felt her orgasm approaching, a storm that was about to break within her, and she knew that she couldn’t hold it back any longer.
With a final, punishing stroke, Quinn pushed Olivia over the edge, the Fem Boy’s body arcing off the bed as she came with a strangled cry. Quinn’s hand didn’t stop moving, milking every drop of cum from her trembling, quivering body. He then slapped her balls, telling her she came without permission, and would be punished further.
But for now, he ordered her to suck his cock and swallow his load. He sat on her face, shoving his hardness between her lips and down her throat . Olivia was trapped as she gagged around the cock pulsing down her throat. Within seconds, Quinn pulled out as he stroked his cock and came, spewing his load over her face and chest, his cock spitting out ropes of hot cum that sprayed over the virgin Fem Boy.
Quinn hovered over Olivia, his cock still hard, and dipped it into the Fem Boy’s mouth.
“Clean it up, slut,” he ordered, and her lips swished over and around it, trying to take in any drops of cum she may have missed. Olivia smiled as she looked at Quinn, her eyes glazed with lust, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. She knew she had opened a door that couldn’t be closed again.
She watched as Quinn stood, his cock still hard and glistening with their combined release. The man’s gaze was intense, a silent command that sent a thrill through her body. She stood up, her legs wobbly, and reached for the towel that had been thrown onto the floor. She began to wipe down her body, her movements slow, her eyes never leaving Quinn’s.
As Olivia cleaned herself up, Quinn moved to the door, his hand resting on the knob.
“Go take a shower, you dirty little slut whore. Then get your ass back here. I have more uses for it. “
