His Girlfriends Cock and Her Lovers

It began with a little dare, a brush of red lipstick across his lips, handed to him with a smirk and a single command: “Be pretty for me tonight.”

Luke, or rather, Lynnie, obeyed.

His hands shook as he glided the lipstick over his mouth, exaggerating the curve, the pout. He wanted to please her. He wanted to disappear into satin, lace, and submission. Tonight wasn’t just about dress-up. It was about transformation.  

Across the room, Kate was undergoing one of her own.

Gone were her soft curves and summer dresses. Her hair was slicked back with masculine precision. She stood before the mirror with sharp, confident energy — her shirt stiff and starched, her chest bound tight under layers, and her slacks pressed to perfection.  

She adjusted the bulge in her trousers — a thick, realistic cock strapped tight beneath her waistband. The curve of it strained against her zipper, the same shape, same girth, same weight as Marcus’s. She had measured. Compared. Planned. 

Kate was no longer herself tonight. She was Nick. Cool. Collected. Alpha.

She turned and looked her boy up and down.

“Spin.”

Lynnie twirled awkwardly in towering heels, blush rising high in his cheeks as the frilly hem of his dress flounced around his thighs. The stockings clung to his freshly shaved legs, and the pink lace panties barely held the steel cage locked around his aching little cock.

He wasn’t Luke anymore. Not even close.

“You look like a doll,” Nick said, circling him like a predator. “But that’s all you are tonight, isn’t it? My little sissy doll.”

“Yes, sir,” Lynnie whispered.

Nick smiled. “Good girl.”

The doorbell rang.
Lynnie's knees nearly buckled.

She knew who it was. He’d been told. Over and over. Reminded. Trained for this moment.

Nick opened the door with the same confidence a man might open his fly — casual, bold, sure of what was coming next.

Marcus stepped in, all broad shoulders and dangerous charm. A real Master, a real Alpha. A dark tee stretched over his thick chest, jeans worn just enough to show off the bulge beneath. He filled the space just by existing. Lynnie gasped.

“Well, well,” he said, taking them both in. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I never do,” Nick replied smoothly. “She’s yours tonight.”

Lynnie swallowed, shivering.

Marcus’s eyes dragged over the sissy’s trembling frame. “What’s her name?”

“She answers to Lynnie now,” Nick said, stepping behind her toy and running a finger down her spine. “And she’s very eager to please. Aren’t you, baby?”

Lynnie nodded, lip trembling. “Yes, sir. Yes, ma’am.”

“I didn’t ask what you called me, slut,” Nick snapped. “I said—are you eager to be used?”

“Yes… Kate, oh er I mean Nick,” Lynnie corrected herself quickly. “Please. Use me.”

Nick's grin widened. “Good girl. But you don’t get to decide how. That’s our job.”

Marcus stepped forward, towering over the sissy. One hand reached under her chin, tilting her face up. “She’s shaking.”

“She should be,” Nick murmured, reaching down to adjust the thick strap-on still nestled in her slacks. “She’s about to serve two cocked-up alphas. One real. One molded in your image.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “That so?”

“Oh yes,” Kate purred, I am Nick and "tonight, I’m the man. You’re the god. And she’s our fucktoy.”

Lynnie whimpered, knees going soft again.

“Strip,” Em ordered. “Show Marcus what a well-trained little sissy looks like.”

He obeyed instantly.

The dress came off first, slipping over his head in a cloud of satin and shame. Then the corset unlaced with trembling hands. The stockings rolled down, but the heels stayed on — Nick insisted.

Then the panties slid down, revealing the tiny locked cage — metal, delicate, humiliating.

Marcus let out a low whistle.

“She’s really locked up?”

“Of course,” Nick said. “Toys don’t get to cum. Not unless their owners say so.”

She stepped forward and pushed Marcus gently backward into a leather chair. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll walk you through how to handle her.”

Marcus smirked. “Instructions? I’ve handled girls before.”

Nick chuckled.

She circled Lynnie like a shark. “You don’t treat her like a woman. You don’t treat her like a man. You treat her like a thing. A plaything. A doll with a hole. You want her mouth? Take it. Want her ass? Spread it. She’s here to serve us. And I’ll even show you how I do it…”

With a smooth motion, Nick undid her pants, letting the massive strap-on swing free. The head of it was already slick with lube, glistening. Lynnie whimpered just looking at it.

Marcus laughed. “That’s... my size?”

“Exactly,” Nick said with a grin. “I know what she dreams about. She wants to be split open. Double stuffed. She wants to be ruined for real men.”

Lynnie sank to her knees, moaning.

“Beg,” Nick said coldly. 

“Please…” Lynnie whispered. “Please use me. Both of you. I want to serve. I want to be your sissy slut. Please let me…”

She trailed off, lost in the haze of humiliation and arousal. 

Nick and Marcus shared a glance — the kind two men might share over a conquest. And in that moment, there were no blurred lines. Just roles. Power. Heat.

Lynnie knelt between them, trembling on her aching knees. Her painted lips parted slightly, trembling with anticipation and shame. Her eyes flicked nervously from Nick’s thick silicone shaft to the outline in Marcus’s jeans — both bulges equally intimidating, equally inevitable.

Nick rested one foot on a footstool and leaned back casually, stroking the strap-on through her open slacks like it was just a natural part of her body.

“Open wide, baby girl,” she said smoothly. “You’ll warm up on me first. Get that jaw used to something thick before the real thing.”

Lynnie obeyed, of course. Her lips stretched wide as Nick guided the head of her cock toward the waiting mouth, her fingers curled tightly in the sissy’s wig.

“Suck it like it’s real,” she growled. “You pretend it’s his, and you worship it like you’ll never taste the real thing.”

Lynnie whined, lips sealing around the slick shaft, cheeks hollowing immediately as she bobbed her head in rhythm. Em kept one hand on the back of her head, applying just enough pressure to remind her who was in charge.

“Mmm,” Marcus grinned, unzipping slowly, watching the scene with growing arousal. “She’s good.”

“She’s eager,” Nick added. “And she knows she’s here to please us, not herself.”

The sissy moaned around the silicone shaft, throat stretching, lips glossy and red now, smeared with spit and lipstick. The sight of Nick, tall and commanding, in her slacks and shirt and tie — face twisted into a cocky, masculine smirk — was enough to make Marcus palm his thick length through his boxers.

Nick pulled out with a wet pop.

“Now show Marcus what that mouth can really do.”

She guided Lynnie by the chin over to him. Marcus had his cock out now — long, dark, veined, heavy, thick enough to make Lynnie gasp. It bounced slightly as she leaned in, hands shaking.

“Go ahead,” Nick whispered darkly in her ear. “Get a real taste. But don’t you dare cum in that little cage. Don’t even twitch. You’re here to serve.”

Lynnie wrapped her lips around Marcus’s cock, inch by inch, groaning as he stretched her mouth far wider than the strap-on had. He let out a low growl and sank his fingers into her wig, guiding her down harder, deeper.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “She’s got a throat made for cock.”

“Only because I trained her,” Nick said smugly, strapping her slacks back into place and watching from her chair like a king watching a feast. “She’s learned what she is — a hole. A mouth. A thing for us to use.”

Lynnie moaned in response, the vibration making Marcus hiss through his teeth. Her makeup was a mess now, mascara streaking, spit and pre-cum smeared across her chin.

“Enough,” Nick finally said, pulling Jasmine back by the collar of her frilly blouse. “She’s dripping. Look at that — trying to leak through the cage.”

Marcus chuckled. “Little sissy’s really desperate, huh?”

“She should be,” Nick replied, standing up and letting her thick strap-on bounce again against her slacks. “Because now it’s time for the real fun.”

She grabbed Lynnie’s wrists and bent her over the bed, tugging the panties down and exposing her ass — red, shaking, twitching with need. The tail of her pink plug peeked out.

Marcus whistled. “You’ve had her training for this?”

“Every night,” Nick purred. “Plugged, stretched, edged… but never filled. Not until tonight.”

She grabbed a bottle of lube and began stroking her shaft, coating it thickly.

Lynnie’s voice was soft, trembling. “Please… please use me…”

“Oh, we will,” Nick said, pressing the head of her cock to the tight little hole. “This ass is ours tonight.”

She pushed slowly, steadily, letting the girthy shaft breach the rim with a pop. Lynnie gasped, arching her back, gripping the sheets as her Mistress — her man — slid deeper inside.

Nick groaned theatrically. “Fuck… that’s tight. She’s squeezing me like she thinks I’m real.”

“You are real,” Marcus said, jerking his cock slowly as he watched. “Look at you. Fucking her like she’s a cheap hole and you’re the man she dreams about.”

“I am,” Nick growled, slamming forward.

Lynnie screamed — a mix of pain, pleasure, and shock. She was split wide, filled deeper than ever before. Nick's hips slapped hard against her ass, and each thrust made the cage at her groin twitch uselessly.

Marcus circled them like a predator.

“Time to see if she can take us both.”

 

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