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"There's a Best Western about five blocks away."
Had that really just come out of my mouth? The manager of the Best Western and I had a deal: I could use a room at his hotel in exchange for unlimited lap dances and blow jobs. He would cum in my mouth while I looked him in the eyes.
They guys taunted me as I walked up the steps to the cold sidewalks of Brooklyn.
"This bitch knows how to party. Walk in front of us, baby--I want to watch you wiggle that ass."
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As I walked the cold, gray streets--me, ten feet in front of a gaggle of men, a half-dozen of them at least, all hooting and talking lewdly about what they were going to do to me--I was thankful for at least one thing:
The city had taken down the billboard with my face on it.
Remember, I told you I was the poster child for the pink collar movement? That is not an exaggeration.
Of all the stupid things I did--and there were plenty--the very stupidest is the thing I said, on camera and on the record, during my intake interview.
When you're applying to be a breeder, you have to prove yourself. Prove your masculinity, I guess. What do I know, really? I failed that test. Don't take advice from me.
I was sitting there in what was essentially an interrogation room in front of two investigators, one woman and one man. They were cold and to the point. They'd been interviewing men like me for ages. They'd gotten to be quite good at it.
"Why should you be allowed to breed with women?" she asked.
I was ready for that.
"I have always believed in a heterosexual dichotomy. I never had a bisexual phase. Never `experimented' with friends. I've always believed that men should be with women, and that women should be with men."
They did not look as impressed as I had hoped they'd be.
"How many women could you impregnate?" he asked.
I did not prepare for that one.
"Well... how many are there?"
I smiled.
They did not.
I squirmed. I tried to edit. "I don't know... I guess... one every day? Yeah. I could do one every day."
I thought that was impressive. They jotted it down in their notes. Their faces showed no expression.
"You know the consequences of this procedure, right?"
I did not like the sound of that.
"Uh... yeah, I think so."
"You're not a homosexual, clearly, so that option is not available. But you could opt for castration. Once gelded, you'd be able to continue your current life as it is. If you want, that option is still available to you."
I really did not like the sound of that.
But what would you say? To a person offering to cut your balls off?
Some men gave in. The smart ones. The ones who could read between the lines that they never, ever were going to be granted breeder status. A deal was being offered. A plea bargain. I was just too stupid to take it.
So I doubled down.
"I believe in heterosexual sex. I believe that men were meant to breed with women. Men were built to penetrate women, and women were built to receive their penetration. Men are meant to breed. The purpose of a man is to put his seed inside a woman. The purpose of a woman is to please a man."
That was it--the end of my interview. They seemed satisfied, like I had made their decision easy. In fact, they seemed like they were MORE than satisfied. They seemed happy. They acknowledged the conclusion wordlessly to each other. They smiled lightly but genuinely at me. I smiled back at them, uncertain but proud that I had, in fact, won them over.
"Will you please proceed with us this way?"
I walked down the hall, prepared to receive my status as a breeder bull.
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The billboard was posted for, I don't know, nine months? Part of the pink collar campaign budget must have gone to marketing.
I was the poster girl.
And I was very popular.
The billboard had an image of me, taken just after I'd finished my training. I had long hair. Lustful eyes. My cock had been encased in plastic for four months. I was so horny I would have fucked a table. My makeup had been done by a professional. The photos had been shot like I was a cover girl.
And in case you couldn't be sure, I had a quote, written in pink, handwritten script:
"The purpose of a woman is to please a man."
I had only been out on the street for a week when I saw it: a photo of me, the new me, dressed like a beautiful woman but wearing a pink collar. Only the faintest hints of masculinity remained, but they were there. This was clearly a new, recently transitioned woman.
And she was begging for male attention. Just look in her eyes: she had lust on her mind. And by lust I mean cock. She wanted a cock inside her mouth, in her pussy, and in both of her hands... all she wanted was cock.
I made a lot of friends through that billboard. More friends than I wanted.
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Thankfully, these guys had never seen it, or they were too young to remember it. I breathed a rare breath of gratitude as we passed by the billboard that now advertised mouthwash.
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At some point during my long and depraved stay in room 317 at the Best Western Plus Hotel, I realized, to my horror, that I was having a good time. A great time. No, a wonderful time.
What had happened to me? Where had that straight man gone? The breeder?
Three hours in, one cock inside my pussy, I took stock of where I was. I had taken all of these guys' dicks in my mouth. They'd blindfolded me and made me scootch around on my knees, tasting each one, trying to guess whose cock was which.
Eventually one of them busted his nut in my mouth and everybody laughed.
I'd been fucked by, I don't know, all of them? Some more than once? I'd been on my hands and knees for so long, I could not keep track of who had been inside me and who had not.
They had all probably worked their cocks inside me. I would have, if I'd still been a man.
In this moment of reflection, I was working the cock of a cute 25-year-old Latin guy. His dick fit my ass so beautifully. God... it felt good. He stood to the side of the bed as I worked my ass against him, fucking my pussy on his tan, thick uncut cock.
It felt so... right.
Like I was meant to be here.
Like I was meant to be getting fucked by cock.
That's the moment it happened. As I enthusiastically bumped my pelvis up-and-down on his thick cock, I thought, "this is actually pretty fun."
Our thoughts are so transparent. Just as it went through my head, their leader saw my face.
"See?! Look at her! Look at her!! She loves it! She loves getting fucked by cock!"
I could have denied it. But it turned out to be the truth. I was moving my own pussy so that it would stroke this guy's dick in a way that would feel amazing to him. I wanted his cock to feel like the best way a cock can feel. I was using my pussy to send a message to him. "Cum inside me," it said. "Fuck my pussy as deep and as hard as you want."
The other guys looked at my face. I thought about hiding how I really felt. But I was too goddamned horny, and too into the perfect feeling of this man's cock inside me. I slid back, the horny, confused slut that I was. I bounced once, twice, three times on his cock. I let his cock head slide all the way to the top of my pussy, the slid it back in again, all the way to the base. His big balls bounced off of my tiny ones. As he railed me, he moaned.
"Oh fuck. I'm gonna fucking cummmmmmmmm..."
I worked my pussy faster, but still sensually--like I was making out with his dick. He was losing his mind to the pleasure. I did my best to keep him stimulated to the maximum so his release would be as happy as possible.
Mesmerized with his own pleasure, he blasted his load inside me.
In that moment, I was as happy as I have ever been in my life.
Of all the things I have done in my life--pass the drivers' test, graduate high school, have sex with a girl--this one was my greatest moment of pride. The moment when I gave a man the greatest orgasm of his life. Up inside my pussy. The pussy that used to be the ass of a straight man.
I cling to that moment to help me forget the shame of it.
I fucked those guys for another two hours. Young as they were, they had that kind of five-hour stamina.
Once they finished, they left me--sore, covered in cum, emotionally exhausted--by myself in the room.
I took a few minutes to clean up and recover. Then I had to find the manager to give him his blow job.
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