“Tomorrow afternoon, come back alone,” he said quietly so my wife wouldn’t hear.

“Alright,” I replied submissively.

What would he want from me?

A few minutes earlier, that stud had wildly mounted my wife and humiliated me amply, stressing in words—and even more so in actions—the chasm of virility between us. Of course, he made me clean up the mess left by his ejaculation, as any respectable cuckold would.

No matter what he had in store for me, I would make sure I didn’t miss that appointment. A true alpha male, Alejandro was a Hispanic stallion with an irresistible fuckpole the size of a Mandingo. He had an intimidatingly masculine presence—a strong chest and abs, a self-assured look, and a deep but pleasant voice—that made me want to do what he said. I felt completely helpless in his company, unable to do anything except grant his every want.

I arrived at his home at three o’clock the following day. I rang the doorbell. He opened the door for me, wearing a bathrobe. I got the impression that he was naked beneath it.

“Here I am.”

“Make yourself comfortable.”

I breached the threshold. Within a few steps, he pinned me against the wall with his muscular frame, opened the bathrobe, and placed his cock in my hand.

“Touch it.” A curt command to which I did not oppose.

It was the first time I touched that long, thick, veiny appendage, which culminated in a huge, purplish bellend that I had seen repeatedly disappear into my wife’s orifices. I carefully moved my hand along the shaft. It was still flaccid, but more imposing than my miserable little penis could ever be. I’m not microdicked, but in comparison to his fuckpole, my penis appeared like a clitoris.

“Get a load of how big it is. Did you enjoy watching it disappear into your wife’s ass yesterday?”

“Yes, to death.”

“Today it’s your turn.”

For a few seconds, I thought that I had misunderstood. I gazed at him, mouth agape, eyes wide in a grimace of astonishment, as if I wanted to ask him, ‘Can you repeat that?’

But he did not repeat it, and his impassibility indicated that he was serious.

“No,” I said softly. “You have a big one. You would break me.”

“You know that the sphincter has a bit of give,” he said. “You saw your wife yesterday, didn’t you? It seemed like it couldn’t enter her ass, but in the end, she took it all the way up and relished it like there was no tomorrow.”

While he was saying these things to me, I continued to massage his fuckpole. Despite my fear, I couldn’t resist the urge to massage his pulsating third leg. I would only have done it if he had told me to. I was totally subdued.

“Today you’ll be my babe,” he said again, before reaching out and giving my buttocks a squeeze through the denim. “You’ve got a peach of a backside! I caught a glimpse of it yesterday.”

I was startled and said, “Pig, what are you doing to me?”

“I give a touch, in preparation for sodomy.”

Unexpectedly, I shivered. When he banged my wife the night before, he used considerably more obscene words. However, he was now using a technical term, and it appeared even filthier because of how he said it.

“In a little while, I’ll fuck you properly.”

“You’ll destroy me. You’ll break me.”

“On the contrary, you came all this way knowing precisely what to anticipate. You wished for it.”

With a faint and belated surge of pride, I retracted my hand from his fuckpole and said, “That is not true!”

I tried pushing him away from me, and he took a step back. He then grinned and continued, “I saw how you were looking at my cock yesterday. Your glance revealed a desire to suck it.”

“That’s not true!” I said again. “I admired the skill with which you banged my wife.”

“Do you think so?”

I felt a touch on my right shoulder. He didn’t put any pressure on my knees, but they buckled on their own. Or, rather, they bowed to the order of my darkest and most depraved side, the one that could do nothing but surrender to the alpha male.

I knelt. His semi-erect cock was only a few millimeters from my face. The huge purplish bellend pointed upward, and two large swelling balls dangled underneath the shaft.

He only needed an order.

“Suck it.”

A second later, his fuckpole was between my lips, and I was sucking as much as I could.

Meanwhile, he began shouting insults at me, saying things like, “I’ll split you in two! I’ll deflower your ass! I’ll break you. I’ll make you my woman.”

I could already imagine myself nude, surrendering to the force of his body and the yearning of his cock. Nothing in me protested; the pride I had shown earlier was dead and buried. Instead of the man I should have been, I was a miserable cock-sucker who was completely at the mercy of an alpha male.

Even the prospect of the pain I would feel did not deter me from enjoying my wife’s bull. At that time, Alejandro was my master.

I glanced to the side and saw myself in the hallway mirror. I was on my knees, completely dressed, sucking a cock. I couldn’t help but admire Alejandro’s powerful, firm thighs, which were befitting of a real man. Just a few hours before, I saw them strain and harden as that body mounted my wife’s naked, lustful bitch. And now instead of her it would have been me.

That man wanted to fuck me and smash my ass. I should have rushed away, but instead I remained there, sucking greedily on Alejandro’s long and thick fuckpole.

I did it because I truly wanted to have sex with another man. I had previously attempted to approach my own sex or trans persons when already married. I had gone with a shemale escort a few times before, but I had just sucked her large member. I had visited red-light movies, and even there, I had confined myself to masturbating and sucking other guys, only to flee as soon as they urged me to follow them to the bathroom for the assfucking.

I was attracted to the idea of homosexual intercourse yet also fearful of the pain of penetration.

That’s why Alejandro was a blessing: I would never have had the strength to defy his commands, whether I wanted to or not. I’d have turned into a complete slave.

Alejandro eventually grabbed my hair and pushed me to get away from his fuckpole.

“Let’s head to the bedroom, faggot!”

I followed him while hypnotized. My heart was pounding, and I felt a mix of fear and excitement bubbling in my chest. The fact that he wanted to take me to his bed showed a desire to go slowly, to possess me without hurry, to allow me to completely appreciate what it meant to be the babe of an alpha male. I’d be his fuck hole, exactly like my wife. And we’d most likely be battling for Alejandro’s large cock from that point forward. Oh, what an unexpected and lovely turn in our married lives!

When we were in the room, Alejandro gave me a strong order: “Give that beast a good oiling!”

He pointed at a little bottle on the bedside table. I trembled as I grasped it in my hands. As I thought, it was a lube. I knelt before his fuckpole and dutifully obeyed. My fingers grippedstruggling, to be sure, considering how big it was—his shaft once again and fully lubricated it.

Alejandro didn’t groan. For a while, I was afraid I couldn’t give him pleasure, but then I remembered that he frequently did the same with my wife. It was his method of expressing supremacy over us ordinary mortals: we whined like pigs in heat while he kept his cool.

He inquired, “Do you like touching it?”

Without responding verbally, I moved over and kissed his cock tenderly before pouring more lubrication. I masturbated on him and realized there was nothing more appealing than feeling the hardness of an erection between my fingers.

When he was happy, my wife’s Hispanic bull said, “Now strip and get on all fours on the bed. I’ll turn you into a woman.”

It wasn’t necessary to explain ’I’ll turn you into a woman’, but I understood why he said it. He had to demonstrate his power over me while also stripping me of my biological identity, reducing me to a woman while possessing testicles and a penis. Perhaps, I reasoned later, he stated so because a part of him refused to accept committing homosexual intercourse and telling himself that I was not a man but a woman would have made it more acceptable.

When I was as naked as a worm, I sat on all fours on the bed. Alejandro came behind me and ordered, “Open your ass wide.”

I once again obeyed. I was startled when I felt something fluid and chilly slide over my back door. I assumed it was the same lubricant I had used previously, despite the fact that when I had oiled Alejandro’s shaft, it hadn’t been as chilly. Perhaps the excitement at the time had distorted my tactile sensations.

A bit later, I felt something else push at my sphincter. I immediately recognized it as the tip of his cock! I shivered with terror, but I didn’t draw back; instead, I kept my buttocks wide open. Maybe I was careless. If it had been too painful, that lusty man would have opened my ass and most likely ignored my protests. What sort of situation had I gotten myself into? But it was too late; I could not back out now.

I felt his member pressing against the folds of my asshole. His bellend advanced into me in what seemed like an eternity but may have only been a few seconds.

“Relax and you’ll see that you’ll like it,” the sodomizer said to me. “I will totally open you up. You will appreciate it and, in the end, thank me.”

I tried to relax and follow his orders. I expected a gentle penetration, but as soon as his glans slid through the ring of my sphincter, Alejandro gave a strong push and buried his fuckpole within me up to the balls.

I yelled in anguish, “Get it out! Get it out! Get it out.”

“If I go out, it’s worse,” he said quietly. “I’m not moving, look! Wait till your ass becomes accustomed to it.”

Indeed, Alejandro’s hips were motionless. I bit my lower lip to get through the pain, and in the meantime I felt the stud’s hands caressing my back. I was astonished by such sweetness.