‘Hi boys, I’m Chloe Craven, a sexy and convincing 22-year-old bubble-butt T-Gurl, and I’m on the prowl for hung Black kings.

Deepthroat cock sucking is my speciality.

*** Oral service only ***

I accom in anon hotels.’

My bio on ‘TV-Chicks’ was short and to the point and I was popular, to put it mildly. With close-up face pics of my flawless makeup and provocative poses in lingerie, I stood out a mile from the hoards of hairy panty wearers and half-hearted crossdressers that clogged up the site.

One day, in amongst the woeful wannabes, there was a message from ‘Julian’. His profile was minimal too:

‘Muscular Black male, 27, seeks eager, obedient TV to drain my balls. Must be caged in chastity and smooth all over. No HPWs.’

Bingo, a perfect match. 

After a brief exchange of messages, we agreed to meet the next evening at the hotel I always used, a place in which visitors didn’t need a keycard to get straight up to the bedrooms, perfect for those who preferred to remain ‘anon’.

Preparing myself - transforming myself from Paul to Chloe - was an intense, erotic delight. After a shower and a deep anal cleansing, I anointed my body  - super smooth all over from my regular monthly waxings - with Chanel No. 5 moisturising lotion, leaving my skin silken, fragrant; the very essence of femininity.

Then, still nude apart from high heels, I went through my makeup routine, perfected over years of practice.

That night I chose my long auburn wig and complementary bright pink lip gloss and eye shadow. Hold-up stockings and a matching black bra to hold my big silicone tits completed the outfit.

This was my look, a brazen, shameless tart.

Fitting my 1” ‘nano’ chastity cage was the final piece of the jigsaw; the final nail in the coffin of my masculinity. Julian had insisted that I mustn’t wear panties.

As 8 o’clock drew closer, the anticipation started to build, the excitement of meeting someone new, the thrill of the unknown, the hint of danger and reckless risk. 

With my erection denied, my whole prostate and perineum area became engorged with blood, swollen and super sensitive. Twenty minutes before he was due to arrive, I lubed my anus and my prostate toy and mounted it, cowgirl style, on the bed.

I watched myself in the mirror, watched myself riding my dildo like a wanton whore, squeezing my tits together and crying out to the empty room, “Fuck me my king, fuck me and fill me with your seed,” taking myself to the brink of orgasm, my tiny imprisoned penis throbbing with delicious denial.

Fuck, if that little inanimate silicone toy feels that good, what must a real cock feel like, hot and hard?

A big cock.

A big Black cock…

But no. Just a wild fantasy; that was a red line I would surely never cross.

Three taps on the door on the dot of eight. I lowered the lights, gave a final spritz of No. 5 behind my ears, and opened the door with a flourish.

“Well hello there, handsome, you must be Julian.”

He filled the doorway, daunting and dominant, his skin as black as coal. I gave him my biggest smile.

His eyes roamed over me, taking everything in – the flaming locks, the slutty makeup, and big juicy tits – before coming to rest on the tiny encasement between my legs. He let out a low whistle, stepped over the threshold and came in close.

“And you must be Chloe. You’re all that I hoped for and more, young lady.”

His big hand reached down to squeeze my tiny package, his middle finger curling underneath to trace the seam between my balls and bum.

Charming, confident and assertive, just how I liked my men; no tentative timidity or reticent requests – he just helped himself, instinctively knowing how I liked to be treated.

I turned and went back into the room, presenting him with my rear view. My peach ass was my prize asset, and I loved to tease and tempt them with a wiggle when I walked.

My heart was pounding as I pretended to fix him a drink. I heard him undress and approach me from behind. Without a word his hands came round to cup my big fake tits, and I felt his penis, hot and thick, pressing against my bare behind. His voice in my ear now, a low guttural growl; “Mmm, so nice and smooth, such a good girl. I’ve got a huge load for you.”

I turned to face him, ran my hands over his bulging delts, and said, in my well-practised flirtatious simper, “Thank you, my king,” as I dropped to my knees.

He was very hung, thick and long and rapidly becoming more of each. Grasping the root of his shaft with one little manicured hand, I moved it upwards and took his big, low-hanging balls in my mouth, alternating between them, each one a mouthful on its own.

A man’s testicles are the essence of his masculine potency. The vessel for his sperm and the source of all virility. Kneeling with my head deep between his legs, immersed in the musky jungle of his copious pubic bush, there could be no doubt that I was eager and willing to please him.

“Mmm, oh fuck yes, Chloe, just like that.” He held my head and stroked my hair. “Suck those big full balls.”

His penis was now fully erect and throbbing in my hand. With one last loving suck on his male orbs, I released them from my mouth and ran my tongue up along the underside of his shaft until I reached his tip.

I noisily lollipopped his bellend, making crude wet sounds of sucking as I swirled my tongue all around the huge ridge of his bulb. His deep moans of appreciation were music to my ears. Soon, his hands came down to hold my head, and I knew he wanted to see if I could swallow him entirely.

I was one of the lucky Gurlz born without a gag reflex. If I tensed and braced the muscles of my throat, it became an open, wet tunnel into which even the biggest cocks could be forced in up to the hilt.

He started to push himself deeply into my mouth, first testing my entrance, then – as I quacked and gurgled – he breached it and entered my windpipe.

“Oh fuck, baby, yes, you bitch, take it all, you perfect fuckdoll.”

Julian was building a rhythm, all 8” of him, long, slow, powerful strokes, those wet balls swinging into my chin as he pushed in deeply at the apex of each thrust.

Not many men got past this point without giving in to temptation, without succumbing to that irresistible urge to rush to the peak of pleasure and let their orgasm come quickly and hard. 

But Julian did.

I knew he was close; I could taste the tang of his pre-cum, but just when I was bracing myself to be flooded, he suddenly withdrew and jumped up onto the bed on his back, his hefty cock, wet with my drool, bouncing and pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

I took him into my throat once more. I was side on to him, and he started to stroke my ass.

“Mmm, Chloe, such a perfect peach bottom.”

“I waxed it for you, big boy, all smooth and bare.”

“Show me.”

I swung one stockinged leg over his torso into a 69 position so that, with my back arched and cheeks spread wide, he had the perfect view of my pretty, pink paradise.

He traced a finger all down my crack, pausing to gently circle my anus, before reaching my swollen balls and tiny cage.

Suddenly, without warning, he pushed my bum forward with a powerful shove. I was forced to release his cock from my mouth as I fell forward, headfirst into the bed. Caught off balance, my face was buried in the pillows and my bottom raised high in the air.

In an instant he was up and kneeling behind me, my hips in his hands. I felt his hot shaft resting on my buttocks and his balls touching mine as if in a kiss.

Still holding me steady in a powerful grip, he began to slide his length up and down my plump behind, hot-dogging my bum cleft, unmistakably simulating the motion of slow, deep anal sex.

The situation was slipping out of my control; had he remembered I only offered oral service?

He must have picked up the lube from where I’d left it on the bedside table, as I felt it drizzling into my crack and slowly seeping down towards my hole.

“Ooohh yeah.” The feeling was delicious. I turned to look over my shoulder and, with a well-practised faux innocence, said, “Julian, why are you making my pussy all wet?”

“Oh fuck, you are sooo ready.” His voice had become a growl. He squeezed another big dollop of lube onto his dick, and, with his eyes locked onto mine, he slowly stroked it all up and down every inch of his erection.

It was a hypnotic sight, this muscular ebony bull, wanking the lube all along his massive shaft, from its bushy base to the swollen, bright pink helmet.

Weakly now, my resistance crumbling, I asked a question to which I already knew the answer: “Julian, why are you making your cock all wet?”

By way of an answer, he spanked me with his heavy meat, each blow a bullseye on my wet opening. My eyes closed, my mouth dropped open and my head went back. A little whimper escaped my lips. Then, with my ass still raised invitingly, a seemingly disembodied female voice said, “You want the pussy? You like my sissy hole?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said, gruff and urgent, and he came down on top of me, his muscular bulk forcing me down onto the bed, my big tits squashed up into my face, both his arms around my neck as he whispered in my ear, “Open up for me, baby, let me come inside you.”

Come inside me?

Or cum inside me?

He was moving his hips, trying to position his cockhead at my entrance. I wriggled and squirmed beneath him; was I trying to help him find his target? I hardly knew myself.

He hooked his feet inside of mine - still in their high heels - and spread my legs wide on the bed. I was completely his captive now, held down and helpless.

Finally, with me immobilised, his bellend found its mark, and I felt him pushing against my puckered rosebud.

The gravity of the situation suddenly snapped back into focus. Could he be about to enter me bareback with that enormous cock?

“Julian, I’m a virgin, you’re much too big.” Then, unable to stop my slutty teasing, I said, “Your huge Black cock is much too big for my sissy virgin boicunt. You’re going to split me in two if you fuck my tight little hole.”

He was nuzzling my neck, giving soft little kisses and gentle nibbles on my earlobe. Softly, in the voice of a lover, he said, “Open up for me, baby, be a good girl,” and the pressure on my anus became stronger. He felt impossibly large.

My mind was in a whirl. There was no way I should have had unprotected bareback anal with a man I’d never met. I wasn’t on prep, there had been no mention of condoms, and yet I couldn’t seem to stop.

“But Julian, you’re bare.”

“Yes baby, natural lovemaking, nothing between us.”

The word ‘lovemaking’ melted what little reluctance remained. I let out one final gasp of submission, and my hole dilated enough for his giant bulb to breach my outer ring, making me cry out in agony/ecstasy.

“Oh!” Another gasp, and I bit the pillow to stifle what would have been a banshee scream.

Again his deep, sweet rumble in my ear, encouraging, persuading: “Such a good girl, open up for Daddy, you know you want this big Black cock.”

The feeling of having him inside me was breathtaking. Gradually the pain subsided, replaced by the ultimate in ecstasy: the feel of him, hot and huge, alive inside me, pulsing and throbbing, stretching my anus, no, stretching my pussy.

Just an inch more, I thought to myself, just ten seconds more, then I’ll tell him to stop.

But as that extra inch became three, and ten seconds became 2 minutes, I lost my willpower and lost my mind.

I had the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other:

Beautiful lovemaking with a hung Black king – just like you’ve always dreamed of.

Unprotected bareback anal – you’re playing Russian roulette with your life.

Julian was oblivious to this internal power struggle. Still with his arms hooked around my throat, and still with that deep bass voice whispering sweet filth in my ear, he was moving inside me now, insistent, powerful strokes, each one a millimetre deeper than the last until, with astonishment and a sense of triumph, I felt his thick Afro bush brush my bottom, and I knew I’d taken all of him.

In this position, with me pinned down and him plunging into me from above, the entire length of his penis rubbed along my P-spot with each thrust and each withdrawal. The pleasure was so intense as to almost be a torment.

Clinging onto reality by my fingertips, I knew I should stop him before he ejaculated. The prospect of his huge load of sperm being pumped into my unprotected bottom was unthinkable.

And yet, it was all I could think of…

I’d released the pillow from my mouth and was grunting and moaning in time with his pounding rhythm. The sexual bliss was overwhelming. Whenever I came close to being able to say the word ‘stop’, he would whisper some new sweetness in my ear – “tight pussy”, “sweet baby,” or “take the dick” – and I’d think:

Just another minute, just another dozen strokes.

And then, suddenly, it was too late. Something was emerging deep within me, something new, something seismic, every cell of me starting to tingle and shiver, a golden glow flowing through my veins, funnelling down into the depths of my balls, perineum and prostate, all swollen and engorged with the pressure of the pumping blood denied its entrance to my imprisoned dicklette.

The fuse had been lit on my first ever sissygasm. I was beyond the point of no return, indeed beyond the point of ‘No’ full stop.

My resistance had gone, replaced by a needy desperation to feel him empty himself into me, fertilise me with his seed, and make me the woman that I’d always longed to be.

This new heaven grew and grew until, after a final moment on the precipice, it exploded in the core of me, an orgasmic detonation of such magnitude that I nearly passed out, my whole body quivering and trembling in a biblical eruption, cum spurting out of my miniature penis, tightly constricted in its steel cage as I experienced the ultimate in male pleasure.

As I started my slow descent from cloud nine and regained a level of consciousness, I became aware that Julian’s tempo had increased, and instead of his lust-laden whispers, primal grunts were emerging from his throat. I realised what was about to happen.

There was still time, but he’d shown me heaven, and I couldn’t deny him his just reward. I opened my hole as wide as I could, abandoning myself to his onslaught, and in a moment that came to define my life, I called out to him, “Fuck me my king, fuck me and fill me with your seed!” and with a great roar of triumph he did exactly that, a torrent of hot semen unleashed into the depths of my bowels.

It took a few minutes for his climax to completely subside, for him to be totally sated and withdraw.

In the aftermath, I stayed spreadeagled on the bed, face down and silent. Julian’s hot, thick sperm oozed out of my gaping pussy, mixing with the lube, our sweat and my own emission on the saturated sheets.

The bathroom tap ran briefly, there was a rustle of clothing, and then the door latch closed softly as he left.

…..

I got home around midnight, my legs like jelly as I staggered through the empty streets, ‘Chloe’ safely packed away in my little trolley case.

My bottom was sore, still open and leaking, stretched beyond its natural elasticity but – shockingly – already aching, yearning to be filled again.

I logged onto ‘TV-Chicks’ and clicked on Julian’s avatar.

‘You cannot view this person’s profile. They have blocked you.’

I wasn’t surprised. I was just another tight, young hole to be filled with his potent Black sperm, and on he moves to the next sissy boi, spreading his dominant genes.

I clicked on my own profile and made the inevitable amendments:

‘Hi boys, I’m Chloe Craven, a sexy and convincing 22-year-old bubble-butt T-Gurl, and I’m on the prowl for hung Black kings.

Breeding bitch for BBC. Fuck me, flood me and leave.

*** Bareback only ***

I accom in anon hotels.’