Date: Thu, 22 Apr 2010 01:06:02 +0000 From: Sukey Cox Subject: Transexual/TV: Value for Money "Value for Money"; or "Here, cum on the bride". This is a story I wrote based on a fantasy of mine. If you like it, please e-mail me at Sukeycox@hotmail.co.uk Thanks! Chapter 1 - The offer With a single click, I changed my life forever. I watched as the screen updated and my "lot" appeared on the auction site; ending in 6 days, 59 minutes and 48 seconds. I had so nearly submitted it more times than I could remember. But this time I had clicked "OK" instead of "Cancel". Even though this was an unregulated auction site, I still expected that my contribution would be removed. But I was so horny, so excited, that this evening, unlike the others, I had clicked "OK". Before I had time to change my mind, I closed the site, opened my e-mail and deleted the e-mail confirmation with the option of removing the lot (no turning back. . . ) and shut down my computer. Three hours later and only 25 miles away, someone placed the first bid. Chapter 2 - The bid The next morning, when I logged on to my computer, I expected to find my lot had been removed and my account deleted. Instead I saw 14 "bid on your lot" e-mails. . . Amazed, I went to the site and realised that my lot was on the front page now, as 3rd most popular on the whole site. Thousands of people had viewed it overnight. And all 14 bids seemed to be genuine, from men not that far from where I lived. My heart pounded and, almost to my surprise, my cock stirred. I started looking at each bid in turn. The current highest was £250. Even as I was on the site, a new bid for £300 appeared from someone called "Master K". There was still over six days to go until lot number 10534# finished. . . I read through it one more time. 10534: "For Sale: Virginity of slut TV" "I am a 31 year old TV looking to sell my first time to the highest bidder. On offer is one day to do with me what you want. Dressed as you wish, I want to be fucked hard in my mouth and ass and covered in cum. I am willing to try any kink you want to pay for. Guaranteed virgin." I noticed beneath there were 24 questions awaiting answer. Still amazed, I read through them. . . what would I wear? Would I do watersports? Was I completely shaved? How much for bondage. . .filming. . .groups. . . dogs(!)? My cock was rock hard by then, and with the same reckless abandon that I had used to finally post it, I replied "Yes" to all requests. As soon as I replied, the reply was posted on the page, so now anyone viewing it would see I was willing to be tied up, filmed, pissed on. . . whatever had been requested. Oh fuck. . . what was I doing?! I came within seconds of deleting my account and running away, but I was so horny I stopped myself by literally unpluging the computer. The doubt was raging through my mind, but the arousal was raging through my whole body. I avoided my computer for a few days; I ran it all through in my mind, all the time. Would I have the guts to go through with it? Should I have agreed to just give a blowjob or something? But the thought had made me so horny. The thought of someone paying to use my body. I was such a slut! Finally, I thought I would check again, and what I found was beyond what I had feared. It was up to £1,350! Over a grand had been bid! Just for a day! It was Master K again. . . his third bid now. There was a very ominous note that he would expect no limits for his money - and prior to agreement he would need at least three pictures of me. There were lots of requests for pictures also, I should have guessed. My heart pounding and my cock almost bursting out my pants, I searched through my files for the best pictures. I found three; one in my lovely white basque and stockings with fake tits and two in some black hold-ups, showing off my ass and legs. I added them to the page as quickly as I could before I changed my mind. It was now the most visited lot ever on that site, which was crazy. The auction was due to finish in 2 days, at around 10pm. I decided I wouldn't look at it again before then. Chapter 3 - The sale At 9:55pm, I signed in and dared to look. It seemed to take an age to log in. Eventually, at 9:59pm I got in. I tried to look at the final bid, but the page started an automatic reload and I thumbed the desk in frustration. . . at 10.01pm, it opened again. . . the final bid was £2,125! Over 2 thousand pounds! Oh my god, I could barely take it in. I looked at the bidder; it was Master K again. He really wanted me. I checked through the history; he had placed his final bid 20 seconds before the end. . . and at 3K, we wanted to be sure he won. Who the hell was this guy?! The invoice was sent automatically; I saw it when I checked my e-mail. There was also a message from the mysterious Master K. "Slut, I expect you to come to my house this Monday morning at 8am. The door will be unlocked and you will find my instructions in a letter behind it. Do not bring anything. Be completely shaved. I will transfer the money directly to your account; half at the start of the day, half at the end. Do not ask any questions. Do not reply to this e-mail." His address was at the end. Fucking hell. What had I agreed to? I seriously considered not going. Who knows what a psycho this guy could be? And not knowing what he was going to do was too dangerous. I made my mind up not to go. However. . . the next morning, Sunday, I carefully and meticulously shaved my entire body. I didn't shave my face, because I always got a smoother shave from slightly longer stubble, but I made everywhere else baby-soft smooth. I told myself I still wasn't going, of course, but it was a just a good idea anyway. Still not going, obviously, I looked up directions to his address on Google. It was a large house in an expensive suburb. Well, that might explain the price he was willing to pay. Maybe he was a millionaire and 2 grand was, perhaps, less than he earned in a day. Maybe he was willing to give a day of his earning for a day with me. That seemed less crazy. I became slightly less worried, and spend the evening imagining getting myself a rich sugar-daddy. I woke at 6am on Monday morning, still decided not to go. I had the most amazing dream; I'd been fucked repeatedly in all holes and plastered in cum. My dick stayed rock hard right through my shower and breakfast. Morning glories didn't normally last this long. I dressed with half a mind to having to show all layers to someone and sat down with my coffee at the computer. I glanced at the wall cock (like a clock, only vaguely cock-shaped. When I had seen it, I wasn't sure if it had been done deliberably or not. Either way, I couldn't resist buying it). It was 7:25am. I habitually opened my e-mail. Right at the top was one from Master K. The subject line was "First transfer complete". Fucking hell. . . I checked my balance online - it was a healthy £1,067 pound greater than yesterday. Wow. . .he really meant business. . . Strangely, at the time, I never questioned how the fuck he knew my bank details. . . the rest of my life would have gone differently if I had. For a start, I wouldn't have got in my car and followed the map I'd printed the night before. . . Chapter 4 - The collection I stood at the door. I checked my watch for the 5th time. 7:59am. My palms were sweating so badly, I dried them on my trousers. 7:59am again. I glanced around the immaculately kept garden and down the gravel drive. My little old Vauxhall looked very out of place. Still 7:59am for fuck's sake. Dried my hands again. My watch beeped - 8:00am. I tentatively pulled the door handle, and when it opened, stepped in. The hallway was massive, and lined with old pictures and even the odd statue. It alone was bigger than my flat, with a giant staircase at the far end. By the door was a small reception table, and proped up a small marble statue of a well-blessed naked woman was a letter. I walked over, and picked it up. Just before I opened it, I noticed something strange about the statue - she was beautiful, and well endowed. . .both up top and between her legs. Picking up the letter had revealed her lower half. Classy. . .I thought. . . a romanesque shemale. I opened the letter and slowly read the instructions. My initial nerves had gone, but I wasn't exactly calm. The letter read: "Take the first door on your right. There you will find your clothes. Get changed. Put EVERYTHING on. Under the clothes you will find the next instruction. Do not read until you have got dressed." He was a bit of weirdo obviously. I began to wish I had told someone where I was going. . . Was is still too late to leave? I could probably get through the front door and back in my car and away - I'm sure I could return the money. Whilst I was thinking this though, my feet had taken me to the room I had been directed to. I had even opened the door and walked in. . . I stared open mouthed at the clothes. . . it was a wedding dress, complete with sexy underwear. That should have been a sign this guy was seriously unhinged, but it was almost as if he KNEW my deepest fantasy - I loved the white basque and stockings I had. My sensible brain was screaming to get the fuck out, but by now my dick was straining my pants. I sorted through the white outfit. . . lacy knickers, gorgeous embroidered basque, white silk stockings, shiny white heels and the most beautiful wedding dress I had ever seen in my life. There was even a blue garter in a separate box, with a blonde wig, very realistic fake breasts and masses of make-up. Ignoring my sensible brain . . . I started taking off my clothes. Chapter 5 - The catch I felt beautiful. Everything was a perfect. The lingerie felt amazing next to my smooth skin and I'd never been able to afford such great make-up or realistic wig. The basque was just tight enough to squeeze me into a female shape, especially as the breasts moulded between my chest and underwear like the real thing. I admired myself in the full length mirror for at least ten minutes before remembering I was here for a purpose. I had noticed the second envelope when I was getting dressed but hadn't thought about it at the time. Now, I slowly opened it. There was something made of black material and a short note. . . "Put on the blindfold. Then wait" What the fuck. . . I hesitated. In all my excitement over the clothes, I really had, unbelieveably, forgotten that I was here to be fucked. I unrolled the black material, and another scrap of paper fell out. Now uncertain again if I could go through with this, I picked it up. "I bought you", it read, "Do it", Oh. . . .fuck. . . . I spread the blindfold out in my hands. . .I was looking right down at it, pulled tight between my hands. . . Slowly, I lifted it up, level with my head. It was a pitch-black shape in the centre of my vision, growing larger as ,despite my most sensible thoughts, it moved closer and closer to my eyes. Before I could change my mind, it covered my eyes and I tied it tightly behind my head. Nothing happened. All I could hear was my own increased heavy breathing. I stood for a minute or two, just listening to that, before I heard the door open. Footsteps came across the room towards me, and soon I could hear the heavy breathing of another man. The blindness heightened my other senses; as well as hearing his breathing, I could smell a faint tint of alcohol. It was obvious he was standing very close. I jumped as a hand touched my calf; I froze as it ran up leg. I heard a soft moan as he stroked over the top of my stockings, then again as he cupped my balls. With his hand still on my crotch, he began kissing my chest and neck. I wanted to pull away, but resisted. The other hand began stroking my hair, then down and squeezing on my breasts. Then it pulled up, over my shoulder, and down my arms, sliding over the long white gloves. Finally, letting go of my panties, that hand ran down my other arm, until he was holding both my hands. Gently, but firmly, he pulled them behind my back. Suddenly, I heard a metal click, and felt a tight grip around both my wrists. Instinctly, I struggled, but it became very obvious my arms were handcuffed behind my back. "Hey. . ." I started, but a hand was clamped over my mouth quickly. I felt his breathing on my ear just before he spoke. "Do not talk. Your mouth is for cocks to go in, not words to come out". He pushed me hard to my knees. A few seconds later, there was a sharp pain in my neck. It was an injection! I felt a cold numbing sensation spread through my neck, inside and out. "What the fuck!" I said. . . or rather "wa. . . t. .. " I actually said. I heard a laugh, and then he spoke close to my ear again. "It'll stop you talking. . . and as an added bonus for you, it'll stop the gag reflex. . . ". He chuckled again. I spluttered and struggled to breath, coughing. As I was trying to catch my breath back, I felt something hard smack across my face. It was warm, and stiff. It slapped my face a few times, before I felt it pressed against my lips. . . I could smell the pre-cum. . . I was expecting an order to open my mouth, but instead my nose was painfully pinched. Still struggling for breath, I instinctively opened my mouth. . . only to have it filled by the thick cock. Feeling it pushed hard into my mouth, I expected to choke, but didn't. I was simply aware of it pushing deeper and deeper into me until it was into my throat. I couldn't breath at all, but equally my body was doing nothing to try to repel the invader. This was not how I had wanted my first face-fuck to go; my cock was rock hard though. With each thrust, feeling the head rubbing inside my throat, I felt fainter and fainter from lack of oxygen, but got harder and harder in my panties. Just when I thought I was about to pass out, his dick slurped out my mouth. I gasped as hard as I could, trying to fill my aching lungs. I was vaguely aware of some noise around me, but my senses seemed to have failed me as I recovered back my breath. It was an unpleasant surprise, therefore, when I felt more than one set of hands on me. . . I was roughly groped; there is no other word for it. Firm hands squeezed and pinched at my ass, legs and tits. Obviously there was no sensation from my fake breasts, but I could tell they were being grasped and stroked. It was impossible to tell how many hands it was. This went on for a few minutes, perhaps it was the same people, perhaps it changed, I had no way of knowing. I smelt a range of fragrances, mostly like aftershave, some might even have been feminine perfumes. There was no talking, so I couldn't determine voices. . . Eventually, I was lifted to my feet by strong arms under my shoulders and lead out the room. I followed the direction as best I could, and it felt like quite a walk. I had no idea where I was going. . . Chapter 6 - The auction Despite being completely blind and disorientated, when I stopped I knew I was in a large room. There was something about the echo's of voices, or general airy-ness, I don't know. I just knew. . .and I felt I was standing at the front, and a lot of people were watching me. Suddenly, a loud voice next to my ear made me jump. "Right, next up is lot 106! A very unusual lot; a virgin cd bride" Oh shit, this wasn't the auction I had signed up to a week ago! "You are bidding on complete ownership of this little slut. She's all dressed and ready to go; anal virgin, ripe for the fucking. Take her away today and do with her as you wish. I have a verified e-mail confirmation here that she wants any kind kink you can think of; BDSM, watersports, animals even. I start the bidding at £2,500" My mind started racing; I had only sold my virginity, not myself, and for fuck sake even that had been a crazy idea! I started trying to escape, but I was held firmly. Besides, I was still blindfolded and handcuffed, where the hell would I go even if I did break from the hold? "Full of spirit!" I heard the auctioneer call out. I was vaguely away of bidding, but I wasn't really listening. I was too wrapped up thinking of all the things that could happen to me now. Sheer panic filled my mind. Why had I let myself get into this position? What the fuck had I been thinking! The more I struggled. . . the harder my cock came. . . I was only brought round by the sound of a gavel striking wood, hard. "Sold to number 203 for £3,900!" I was dragged away, but as I went I heard a familiar voice whisper in my ear. . . "Not bad, I made nearly 2K profit and I got to fuck your throat. Have fun, you little whore. . ." Yet again, I was lead away, complete unsure where I was or where I was going. This time I was definitely taken by car somewhere. . .because I was still in it when the blindfold was taken off. It was a posh car, maybe even a rolls or similar. I was sitting in the back and there was a driver at the front and only one other man; the guy who had taken my blindfold off, sitting next to me. He was older, maybe early 50s, and very smartly dressed, grey suit with a top hat. Having realised I was still hand-cuffed, and still unable to talk from the injection, I glanced around quickly. There were flowers in the car?! Some in the back window, and a large bouquet next to me. A large bouquet. . .and I was in a wedding dress. . . in a car with a smartly dressed middle-aged man. . oh fuck. Chapter 7 - The wedding It wasn't long before the car stopped, and my door was opened. I was "helped" out the car by the driver, and to be honest I wasn't that surprised to see we were at a church, with crowds of people and more than a couple of cameraman, each with large professional looking video cameras. The crowds cheered and waved at me. There were even bridesmaids for fuck sake! The gentleman from the car took my arm and led me through the crowd to the doors of the church. I desperately wanted to cry out, but still I couldn't make a sound. I tried to struggle, but in those heels I didn't stand a chance even against one older man. Everyone was in on it, because no one seemed in the slightlest bit put out that the bride had her hands cuffed behind her back, or clearly didn't want to go into the church! "Here comes the bride" piped up on the organ as I went through the doors. The church was packed also. It was just like a normal wedding! Everything was set up completely. The only difference was the number of cameramen. . . As I relucantly walked up the aisle, I noticed my groom. Well, the back of him. He was tall, short hair, that was really all I could say. Oh shit. . . I had no idea what was going to happen. There was even a priest! Well, a man dressed as a priest. . . When I reached the front, everyone sat down and I got my first glance at my groom. He was in his mid thirties maybe, quite handsome I suppose; blue eyes, firm features. He just winked at me. Instantly I turned back to the front. My "dad" had sat down, but I stayed there, maybe transfixed with fear. . .I don't know. Up until then, it had been just like any wedding I had ever been to, but things were about the change. . . "Dearly beloved," the priest started. . . "we are gathered here to today to witness the submission of this slut to this man" My eyes sprang open wide. . . "To love, honour, and most importantly, obey, from this day forward, as long as the trashy whore lives" I glanced around again, everyone was going along with this! The priest turned to my groom. "Do you take this little slut to have and to hold, to use and abuse, to rent out as you wish, from this day forward?" "I do" he replied "You may now fuck the bride" My heart almost stopped. My husband looked at me, and smiled. "Time to take your ring" he said, and the whole church laughed. He led me over to a table at the side, where the register was laid out. Before I knew it, he'd bent me over the table, and was using one hand to hold me down and the other to undo his flies. The cameramen were buzzing around, half filming my shocked looking face, the other half on my husband taking down his trousers. . . All the guests were crowding round too. I felt his hand run up my legs and hitch up my skirt, then pull my panties down. Craning my neck round, I could see the camera's getting a nice shot of my naked ass. This was not what I had planned. . . he stroked and slapped my ass cheeks, smiling all the time still. I felt a finger slid up my ass and probe around. A second rammed in. Fuck he was rough. Oh fuck! A third finger pressed in, squeezing out my muscles painfully. I squirmed and tried to move, but there was no point. Then I felt his cock rubbing back and forth between my cheeks. Then his hand clamped around my mouth, and his fingers squirmed into my mouth. I realised it was the same fingers that had just come out my ass. . . He leant over me and told me to suck them. I saw the bright flashes of cameras going off all the time now, and even though I was almost gagging at the thought, I sucked his fingers. As I doing that, I felt his cock head stop sliding up and down and actual starting pushing into my asshole. It was firmer and firmer, and sorer and sorer until. . . with a burst of intense pain, it slid right the way in. I gave a silent scream as his cock plunged it's full length right into my virgin ass. The guests clapped and cheered. He started fucking me hard, pulling almost all the way out until his head stretched me again before thrusting back in all the way again. As he was doing it, the guests lined up and started congratulating him, shaking his hand. It was like the line-up they usually have at the reception. But hey, this was no ordinary wedding. Then I realised what was happening. . . the guests were shaking his hand, and then undressing. The bridesmaid, who was a genuine woman. . .there was no doubting that now. . was lying on the first pew being double-teamed by the priest and best-man. All over the church, as soon as they'd shaken the grooms hand, the guests were fucking like rabbits. And I noticed a queue by me also. . . The chap who had given me away. . .I couldn't think of him as my "dad", it was too sick. . . had shaken hands with my hubby, undressed, and was now waving his dick in my face. He politely asked my husband. . ."May I?", to which he replied "Of course". My head was held, and he carefully directed his cock into my mouth. I gagged as it pressed into my throat. As my husband's balls bounced on my ass, his father-in-law's bounced on my chin. To my disgust, the older man did not last long. . .he pulled out at the last minute so his jet of sticky white cum sprayed my face and dress. Again, people cheered. I couldn't wipe it off as it started running down my face. Seconds later, my hubby's cock appeared at my mouth. I tried not to think where it had come from as I sucked it. . . but it was only a few penetrating thrusts down my throat before it went back deep into my bleeding ass. A gooey pussy appeared at my face. The priest and bestman had cum in both the bridemaid's holes, and as she thrust her cunt my face, she ordered me to clean her up. I licked the fresh semen from her twat and asshole as she sucked off another guest. She was moaning and groaning with pleasure, but she stopped short of taking her new guest's load . . . she made him fire it right into my face. A second blast of semen starting running into my mouth. I soon realised that every load of jizz was going to end up in me. If guys didn't cum in my mouth, or over my face, directly, I ended up licking it out of the pussy or ass of the girl they had come in. And if some guy accidently came in her mouth. . .it was spat onto me. Before long, I was dripping in cum. My hair was matted with it and my face plastered. The cameramen were loving it. My ass had gone numb a long time before. . .but I still felt it when my husband gave a few extra hard thrusts and fired his reward deep inside me too. My husband?! Why was I calling him that?! Oh god, I really had submitted! One of the bridesmaid's helpfully wiped the dripping cum up from my gaping asshole and fed it to me. She smeared some on her tits and made me lick it off also, before making me clean another serving of fresh semen out her ass. It tooks hours for every guest to finish. And to my horror, it turned out this was only the church service. . . I was pulled to my feet, my dress pulled back down and I was led outside by my husband. Outside, the now clothed again guests started throwing rice and confetti over us as I walked down to the gates. Needless to say, it all stuck to the cum on my face and dress. I got a few double takes from members of the public this time. . . a handcuffed bride plasted with sesam soaked confetti did turn a few heads. More so since I was walked to the reception. . .all along the road people turned and stared, many took pictures. My husband was a real gentleman. . . "We can't let everyone see your dress as messy as this!" he said, making sure everyone heard. With a swift pull, he ripped it off. I was left standing in my stockings, basque and heels, my panties long since gone, and my garter still tightly round my smooth thigh. A few old women who had been watching gasped, but most people laughed. I was forced to keep walking, unable to cover myself at all, struggling along in my heels. Even more people started taking pictures, or filming on their phones as the cd bride walked past them. They started at my feet, the once white heels now covered with drips of fresh cum, then up my silky white stockings, amazingly still un-laddered, over the tops to my perfectly smooth crotch. . . and despite everything still completely erect cock, bouncing as I walked. The tight basque was still squeezing my figure into a feminine shape, the fantastic fake boobs get a lot of attention also; many were fooled by them and the excellent make-up into believing I was actually a shemale. By the time we reached the nightclub, we had quite a following. Which my husband graciously invited in to the reception. . . Chapter 8 - the reception Only, it wasn't a reception, it was a pole-dancing club. All around me, women slithered up and down the poles, their bodies writhing around. The club was packed with very very horny men, and there was a very strict no-touching policy. But it turned out it only applied to the dancers. . . I was led through the dark club, everyone cheering and jeering. I couldn't hide my body, or the fact my face and hair was already dripping with cum. No one minded I was really a guy, they were all too horny to notice, or care. I was led right up to the base of the stage and I saw a new pole being brought out. It was slotted behind my back and into a hole in the floor, between my still hand-cuffed wrists and my back, but too tall for me to be able to lift my arms off. My husband stood next to me and waved his hand - the music and dancing stopped and he had everyone's attention. "Hi! I got married today!" (everyone cheered), "and this little slut is now MY PROPERTY!" (more cheering) "Now, I'm going to get drunk and celebrate, I suggest you do the same!" The music started again, and the girls started dancing all around me. Crowds of guys closed in, getting as close as they could to the dancers. They were all around me when my husband pushed down on my head, firmly, until I was forced to drop to my knees. My face was now level with a mass of barely restrained cocks, air-humping the girls in their imagination. Some of them were almost rubbing in my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my hubby talking to one of the guys who had followed us in. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but he was nodding and the guy looked very excited. Moments later, he walked over to me and grabbed my basque. He twisted me round the pole so I had my back to the dancers. Noticing some cum on his fingers from touching my basque, he held it up to my mouth, expecting me to lick it off. When I didn't, he simply wiped it on my hair. . . Seconds later, he pulled out his dick. It was at least 9" long, and thick. Very impressive. . . Quite a few of the other men were watching now. They watched as he held my head with one hand and pushed his cock head against my lips. I was beyond fighting, and opened my mouth. . . It didn't take him long to fire his load down my throat. And once he had done that, it opened the floodgates. Scores of guys crowded round me, thrusting their cocks into my mouth whilst watching the dancers gyrating about the poles. No sooner did one of them cum in my mouth, or over my face or fake tits than another replaced him. It wasn't long before someone pulled the pole out the socket and turned it horizontal, forcing me to bend over. As soon as he'd done that, I felt his dick press into my now available gaping asshole. I was being spit-roasted - complete with metal pole spit. . . I lost track of how many servings of cum I took in my mouth and deep in my ass. The dancers would tease the guys into fucking me harder and harder, making them so horny they cam almost as soon as they pushed inside me. Some didn't even make it that far, wanking their fresh load over my face or ass. I was so caked in sticky white semen, it was dripping off me into a puddle on the floor. Some of the dancers were obligingly scooping it up and pouring it back on to my face. It seemed the stream of hard members would never end, it was a busy club and word had got out. And it appeared I was being properly pimped out. In the brief seconds I had to look around between rough face fucking, I saw money changing hands. My husband had a huge piles of notes in his grasp. He saw me looking before my head was painfully yanked away to provide a cum dump for yet another hot sticky load of jizz. It turned out that was one of the last. Not long later, I saw my husband move round behind me. A fraction of a second later he kicked my legs out from under me. I was so unstable on the heels it didn't take much and I landed with a splat, face first in the pool of cum. I heard everyone laughing, and then I was pressed hard into it as he lay on my back. It squeezed around my already plastered body. As he pushed his whole weight down on me, his cock slid into my ass and he started sliding me back and forth with his thrusts. Grabing my shoulders and pushing down on my head, my face was rubbed repeatedly through the semen as he fucked me. He leant close to my ear and started whispering, between grunts. "You saw the money then?" I nodded as best I could. "Know what it's for?" I tried to shake, but it just rubbed more slimy jizz into my mouth. "The honeymoon! You like that? Wanna know where we're going?" I lifted my head to nodded and he slammed it back down, showering cum in the air. "Thailand! You know why?!" I knew better than to try and shake this time. . . "Because that's the only place I could find a fucking corrupt enough plastic surgeon to give you the MASSIVE tits and slutty body I demanded!" He laughed as his cock twitched and yet another dose of juice entered my body. . . Chapter 9 - The Honeymoon Coming soon. . .