Next In Line (18+ Content)

Light flooded into the club as the door swung open, blinding anyone who looked in that direction for just an instant. Silhouetted for a second in front of the outside glare, a vision of heaven was briefly visible. The silhouette was unmistakably female, the shoulder length hair flowing, the curves evident atop the long legs and five-inch heels. But when the door closed behind her, and eyes adjusted to normal, she was so much more.

As she walked toward the bar her body moved with sublime ease in her tall heels, as though she had been born with them strapped to her feet. The air conditioning and ceiling fan gave the slightest rustle to her wavy hair, which all could see was sparkling blonde. The dress she wore was blue, with black accents and it hugged her form so tightly it might have been painted on, yet there was no sign of a wrinkle as she strode forward. Besides being tight, the dress was also wonderfully short, barely coming below her crotch. The tops of her stockings and garter straps were easy to see. The black shoes were open ended, and the bright red of her polished toes, which matched her nails, flashed like a neon sign through her suntan-colored stockings. It was easy to see that the dress, shoes and stockings were of the very best quality and expensively made.

Moving up from her feet, the eye gazed upon the most shapely set of legs ever given to a woman. Firm, long, just the right muscle tone… no doubt sculpted by spending a life in high heels. She must have been at least 5' 10" if not 6 foot tall and seemed taller and more elegant because of her shoes. The eye did not linger on these shapely appendages long, however, for they were drawn like a magnet to a pair of plump, firm breasts that stood out from her chest as though chiseled in stone. They jiggled every so slightly as she walked, the nipples hard and erect, straining to poke through the silkily fabric of her dress. As she passed by, one could see that her sumptuous ass was every bit as firm and shapely as her breasts. Her hips were not wide, but the ass swayed with a captivating motion that was more athletic than vixen.

Long pendant earrings dangled from each lobe, glistening gold whenever she passed under one of the lights. An opulent necklace of the same color tightly enveloped her well-proportioned neck, while metal banded bracelets covered both wrists. The face was stunningly beautiful, the makeup perfect. Ruby read lipstick, the slightest hint of pink blush, long dark eyelashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows embraced blue eyes of penetrating beauty, encircled by black eyeliner and blue eyeshadow that enhanced the vibrancy of her pupils and dress. It was obvious she had spent an hour or more doing her makeup, or perhaps paid some artist to embellish her already remarkable features.

It was the smile, however, that grabbed your attention… along with the gleam in her eyes. They bespoke friendliness that made her seem approachable despite stunning looks that would have otherwise said he was out of your league. The smile and the eyes also had an unmistakable mischievousness that suggested she was no stranger to fun, both in and out of bed… they said that she had seen it all, done it all, loved it all and was very, very good at it all.

She exuded sensuality and sexuality. It was easy to tell that she enjoyed having every eye glued to her body and that she was enjoying giving us a show, turning us on, inspiring our lust. There was nothing shy or shrinking about her. You could tell she wouldn't be offended if you brushed her inner thigh, slapped her hot ass, or told her how great her tits looked…. or even told her she looked like a hot fuck. The confidence radiating from her body signaled that she knew the effect she had on men and relished it; relished being a walking, breathing combination of princess and whore.

But the most alluring thing about her, and the thing she seemed most proud of, was the slight but noticeable bulge announcing itself through her dress, just below her waist. Even with the powerful draw of her tits, legs, face and ass, it was clearly the feature she was exceedingly anxious for all to see. There was no hint of hesitation, no shame, in showing everyone the most candid and important thing about her. She was glad for all to see and to relish what she was happy to announce. Where an ordinary woman's dress was flat, featureless, uninviting, dull; hers was exciting, taboo, revealing in both a physical and spiritual way. It was the exclamation point on everything else, what she was telling us with her clothes, her shoes, her hair, makeup and walk.

his was no bio cunt, but a sissy…. a living, breathing expression of every real man's most vivid fantasy. That beautiful, captivating bulge was a cock, and that meant there was no pussy beneath her dress but a willing asshole that loved to be fucked. Suddenly, everything about her was crystal clear. She had done it all, she would do it all, and she loved to satisfy the lust she inspired. Here was no tease who would lead you on and leave you frustrated. Instead here was a gurl who lived to be a sex object, who reveled in the desire she ignited, and who loved to be consumed by it. Everything about her was calculated to attract cock. In fact, as she slid down onto a bar stool it was clear that she had come here to get cock, to get as much of it as she could. That no matter how perfectly put together she was when walking into the club, she intended to leave with her makeup smeared, lipstick gone, stockings ripped, panties missing, ass gaping, cum leaking down her leg, her mouth sore and smelling of sweaty dick.

Her voice was as sultry and feminine as her body and when she ordered a frozen daiquiri, sensuality dripped from every word. By the time the drink arrived every man in the place, and there were about 20 of us, was fixated on her. Each hard inside his pants, his breath shallow, his heart racing, his lust roaring. All of them were thinking the same thing, adding up the odds and trying to figure out if they might be the guy to successfully hit on her.

But no one need have worried because she had stopped being discriminating a long, long time ago. All that mattered to her was being used, getting as much cock and cum as possible, being degraded and humiliated like the bimbo sex doll she had turned herself into. And she wasn't ashamed to announce it. "So," she said in her sexy voice, "who needs a blowjob?" Such brutal honesty stunned everyone. They weren't used to it. Was getting their cock into this stunning sissy really going to be that easy? Shocked into lustful silence, no one spoke, no one moved.

"Alright then," she said, "I'll start." Standing up, she took the hand of the oldest, fattest, most unattractive man in the club and led him to the back of the room. There she knelt down with a motion so-well practiced, so natural, that it was evident she had knelt before hundreds, maybe thousands of men. Unzipping his pants, she pulled out his cock and sucked it into her mouth. Watching her blonde head bob up and down on his manhood was exciting beyond description. The movement was so natural, it was clear she had been born to suck dick. And the vibe surrounding her body made it equally clear she was loving every stroke and every eyeball watching her debase herself on this fat, old guy's, cock. The exposure and humiliation seemed to enhance her pleasure.

It didn't take long for him to shoot his load and as he pulled out and zipped up, she turned to look at all of us staring at her. Cum was splashed across her lips, and with a sultry smile her tongue darted out to usher every last drop of semen into her willing mouth. Then, with the nastiest gleam in an eye I have ever seen, she asked "Who's next?"

No longer shocked or hesitant, we all made our way to her, pulling our cocks out and stroking while we watched and waited our turn. Soon phones came out and as men took video and pictures she never broke stride. She squirmed and wiggled as each new cock slid into her mouth. She reached out with her hands to grab dicks waiting in line. Before long guys were behind her, lifting her tight dress up off of her ass, which was even more remarkable in the flesh than under the cloth. To our delight there were no panties, just a sexy plump ass and a tight pink hole that proved more than welcoming. She let men touch her wherever they wanted and the hands went everywhere… to her huge tits, her neck, her legs, even down to her cock clitty, which was so tiny it barely measured two inches when it got hard.

The more hands that were on her, the more cocks that were in her, the better she liked it. Moaning like a bitch in heat, which is exactly what she was, she appeared desperate to get more. When the first finger went into her ass she went crazy with lust, and before long the cocks were fucking her hole, stretching it, opening it up and then filling it with cum. There were no rubbers and she didn't ask for any. She wanted it raw and hard and that is the way she got it. Some guys left after they blew their load inside her or came all over her. Others jacked themselves hard again and took another turn. New guys came into the bar and joined the fun. Some dudes took to doing one another because they couldn't get close to her. For a good part of the evening she was almost impossible to see, as she was buried in male bodies.

Eventually things got kinky. I saw a guy pissing in her mouth as she greedily took every drop. Another guy pulled out of her ass, which was already gaped wide and filled with four or five loads. Muscling his way to her head, he shoved his cock between her lips. The taste of her own ass and all the cum dumped in it, as well as the cum in her mouth, drove her to new heights of lust. As she moaned and wiggled it became obvious there were no limits now. The frenzy was incredible, and it went on for about three hours before the last guy slunk away exhausted and limp.

She laid there on the ground in a pool of piss and sweat. The beautiful blonde hair was a tangled web. Her stockings were torn and reduced to shreds. So too was the dress. Someone had ripped it from the neck down to the navel, and her tits were hanging loosely out of it. One earring was missing. The lipstick was long gone, the mascara had run down her cheeks. Her entire face was covered in flakey dry cum and her lips were swollen. There were bruises on the inside of her thighs and on her ass where men had been slapping her all night. And as for her asshole, I don't think I've ever seen such a gape. You could have shoved a policeman's flashlight into her and I doubt she would have felt it. A steady trickle of cum mixed with a little blood was running out of her sissy cunt onto her balls.

At first she just curled up into a ball and lay there for a bit. Exhausted. Humiliated. Abused. Eventually she managed to stand up with some effort. As she wobbled on her legs uncertainly, the confidence of walking in her 5-inch heels now appeared suspect. She really did look broken. The sensuality and sexiness that had encompassed her earlier was gone. Now she looked like a common tramp, and cheap whore. She smelled worse, like a men's room uncleaned for a week. As she made a pathetic effort to straighten her clothes and hair, I smiled and snapped one last photo. Of all the images I took that night this one turned out to be my favorite because it showed the real sissy… the cock crazed harlot, desperate for cum and humiliation with a burning desire to be abused by strangers, to be degraded and dehumanized. This was the inner gurl. The sex doll was the outer shell. This was the real thing. A sleazy fuck hole, cum dump and toilet. No real pride. No dignity. No future. You could tell that, for her, what had just happened was the sum total of her ambitions and her sole purpose in life. She would be doing it again, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe someplace else.

She smiled weakly as she stumbled toward the door, barely able to stay erect. The walk was uncertain now, as much due to the abuse her asshole had taken as her drained condition. Just before she opened the door to return to whatever perverted den she lived in, I caught a gleam in her eye as she stiffened her spine and got ready to walk outdoors, where once again every passerby would be able to see her for what she truly was. That gleam was fulfillment and satisfaction. The joy of having accepted what she was and living what she is.