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  • New BBC Whores Abby & Lillie Pt. 01

New BBC Whores Abby & Lillie Pt. 01

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How Lyle's Wife Became a Black Cock Whore - Part 1

Lyle has been a friend of mine for a long time. The below story is based on actual events, and was drafted by Lyle then written by me - Gracie (aka Gerald):

My name is Lyle. My looks is something I have always been a proud of, as I am a very good looking guy, although a on the short side. Women seem to like my effeminate features, which they seem to relate to. They seem to like to mother me, which I don't mind. I have a small bone structure, slim legs, long slim fingers. Even though I am effeminate, I am not gay, but I suspect some people think I am simply because of how I look and act.

I am married to a wonderful wife, Abby. She is very sexy and beautiful, but also very inexperienced when it comes to sex and "street sex" smarts. She is extremely intelligent, much more so than me. She is also shy and not very socially adept. But I love her with all my might. She is my sole mate, and forever will be.

I had been out of work for a long time, over six month. All of our meager savings was long exhausted. The situation had gotten very dire, and extremely depressing. We were behind on our rent and in danger of being evicted, electricity was about to be cut off. We were going down hill fast. Even our friends were fast abandoning us, as we could not afford to go out to nice dinners or clubbing with them, and we were no longer fun to be with.

In desperation, I researched becoming either a real estate agent, or an insurance agent. After further exploration, insurance agent seemed to be the best fit with my educational back ground and submissive personality, so I took several pre-licensing courses both on-line and at a community college and a private institution. I took more than I needed, until I felt comfortable passing the state exam. I was shocked when I passed, as I had serious doubts I would ever pass.

I passed, and wrote up a resume and went out looking for an employer. My state requires that a new agent be sponsored by, or in other words, employed by, an insurance firm or an experienced agent.

I hit up every insurance agency I could find in my area. Large, small, even single agent shops, it didn't matter, I just really needed to get a job. I knew it would take time, once I started with an agency, to start generating enough in commission to make a living and supplementing my wife's income. As time passed without results, I got more and more desperate. My wife, Abby, was nearly getting hysterical with worry.

The market seemed dead. Nobody seemed all that interested in a newbie agent. I was getting depressed again, having wasted all that time and money to get a license and still couldn't get a job. Several days went by since I had dropped off the very last of my resumes. No call, no job.

Then I got a call. A woman called from an agency and said "Darrell" wanted to interview me for a job at his agency, and he was willing to train me. I was ecstatic. She gave me all the information and appointment time. I was determined that I would, one way or another, get that job.

That night, when my wife, Abby, came home, I told her all about it. She hugged and kissed me and told me she was proud of me. I reminded her I didn't have the job yet, but she said she had faith in me.

Abby said, "I am counting on you. You must get that job!"

I was already under extreme pressure, and that added even more pressure. I was afraid of a nervous breakdown, which, of course, we could not afford. And I actually thought: How could Abby tell our friends and family that her husband was in the nut house? It would be so difficult for her.

The next morning, I was at the insurance agency nearly 20 minutes early, so nervous I was almost shaking. I knew arriving so early would show a touch of desperation, but I was hoping it would also show eagerness to start and learn, too.

When I announced myself to the receptionist, a large black woman, she looked at her watch and tisked, then said, "Have a seat, and I'll tell Darrell you are here when he is ready."

I sat in the reception area and waited. There were several office doors that opened onto the reception area. Some were open, and some were closed. One that was closed suddenly opened, and a black man came out, smiling. I thought he might be Darrell, so I started to rise, but he walked right past me and out the front door. A woman came out of that same office and stood in the doorway, looked at me and smiled. She looked over at the large woman at the reception desk, who just shook her head "no." I guess maybe she thought I was a new customer.

I have to say, I was rather shocked. The woman in that office was young, blonde, and extremely attractive. She wore a little micro-mini skirt that barely covered the essentials, and a blouse that showed so much cleavage that her nipples were barely covered. But when she smiled at me, I smiled back. I couldn't help it.

I thought to myself, "Wow." I think she must have read my silent lips, as she giggled, then went back into her office, leaving the door open. I've never seen someone in a professional office wear something so revealing before. I thought they must have a very loose dress code here. I also thought that it was very unprofessional, and I didn't see how the owner of the agency let her get by with it.

While I sat and waited, there were a couple other customers that came in and went into one or another of the offices. That was encouraging, as it seemed like it was a fairly busy office, which would help me. The customers that I saw were all black, however, so I didn't know just how well they might accept a white agent helping them with their insurance needs. I grew very concerned about getting this job.

After a few more minutes, the phone on the receptionist's desk buzzed. She picked it up and listened, then she turned to me and said, "Darrell will see you now."

She motioned to the door directly behind her. She got up and opened it for me. My knees were weak as I walked. When I went it, she shut the door behind me.

A handsome black man rose from behind his desk and stuck his hand out.

"I am Darrell," he said. "I'm the owner of this agency."

"I'm Lyle," I said, my voice cracking with fear.

His laugh was a deep baritone. His voice was almost electric, like charged the air with static electricity.

I shook his hand. He held on to my hand longer than necessary, squeezing, almost crushing the delicate bones in my hand, while staring into my eyes for a long period. It made me feel very uncomfortable, I looked away. My eyes darting to the floor, trying to avoid his stare.

Through a wince, I said, "So pleased to meet you."

When I looked back up, he finally let go of my hand after staring into my eyes. I felt like he was staring right through me. He motioned me to a chair in front of his desk. He had a very commanding attitude that was hard to resist.

While I sat, he reviewed my resume out loud, asking a few questions along the way. Then he started asking some detailed questions. Most of the questions were very personal and probably illegal, but he likely knew I was desperate and would put up with it. He was right, I would, as I felt I had no choice.

"How old are you," he asked.

"23," I answered.

"How old is your wife?"

"Um, 22."

"Any kids?"

"No."

"Is your wife sexually active with other men?"

I was shocked, and started to rise out of my chair. "What?!"

He told me in a stern voice to sit back down. When I hesitated, he yelled out, "Now!"

I sat, a bit cowed. I crossed one leg over the other, like a girl, like I was trying to protect my private parts.

"Answer the fucking question!"

I shook my head no.

"Answer the fucking question out loud!"

"No, she is not sexually active with other men. But why are you asking questions like this? They are highly inappropriate, and have nothing to do with my qualifications for a job!" I put up a brave front.

He frowned at me, and said, "It has everything to do with your getting a job here. The only reason I am interviewing you is because of your appearance and because of your wife. After you submitted your application, I found you on social media sites, and got interested in her as well as you. She is very attractive. In fact, she is hot. You obviously married way above what you deserve, do you understand that?"

I nodded that I did.

"Answer out loud. I am not telling you again."

"Yes, I know I married way outside my league. I know I don't deserve a wife as good as she is." I looked down, feeling bullied.

"You have any pictures of her that are not on-line?"

Nervously, I dug out my cell phone and pulled up a couple pictures and placed the phone on his desk.

He ignored it, and said, "Hand the motherfucking phone to me, do not just put it on my desk."

I picked up the phone, my hand shaking as I handed it to him.

He glanced at the pictures, and shook his head negatively. "These look like she is all buttoned up, afraid to show herself. Is she frigid? Don't you have any better ones?"

"What do you mean, 'better,'" I asked.

"Damn, are you a fucking idiot? What do you think I mean by 'better'? Pic's of her without clothes, fool. Naked. Nude. Got it now?"

I stammered, totally shocked. "No, nothing like that."

"Are you gay or something?"

"What?!" I exclaimed. "No, I am not gay, and what does that have to do with anything?"

He came back at me with, "Then are you bi-sexual? You look like you are at least bi-sexual if not a fucking queer."

"No, I am not bi-sexual," I said, looking down.

"How many cocks have you had in your mouth or your ass?"

I answered "That is a highly inappropriate question, and I am not going to answer it."

"Oh, really?" He said. "It must have been quite a few then. Tell me what happened. NOW!"

I looked down, very uncomfortable, and totally cowed. A job was on the line. "When I was in school, a kid forced me to do it."

"Forced you to do what?" he said.

"Forced me to, you know, give him oral sex," I squirmed, unable to meet his eyes. I was so ashamed.

"Did he cum in your pretty girly mouth?"

I looked down again, fully embarrassed. "Yes."

"What did you do with his cum?"

"I gagged and wanted to spit it out, but he made me swallow it," I said, my face getting really flushed.

"Was he white, Hispanic, black? What was he?"

"He was black. He was big and he was a bully."

"How many more times did he make you suck him off like that?" Darrell looked pleased that he had wormed this confession out of me.

I shifted in my chair, not wanting to say anything more, but under Darrell's intense stare, I finally said, "Several more times, nearly every year in school."

"So like what, two or three times a week all through school?"

I nodded and said, "Yes." Tears started forming in my eyes.

"You suck off anyone else?"

I hesitated, and stammered before answering, I did not want to answer. "He made me do it to a few of his friends, too." Tears were now flowing freely down my cheeks. I wiped them away.

"They black too?"

I nodded my head, "Yes."

"Do you resent black people because of what happened to you?"

I quickly answered, "Oh no. Not at all. Never."

"Did this only happen at school, like in the restrooms or something, or other places too?"

I hesitated, leaning over, looking down at my shoes, trying to avoid answering.

Darrell slammed his hand down on the desk, startling me into answering.

"Other places too. Like on weekends them made me meet them so I could do it to them."

"How many times they make you suck them off on weekends?"

I started to sob, finding it hard to talk. "Nearly every weekend. They called me a girl, their bitch and they said they owned me."

"What would you wear on weekends when you met them to blow them?"

I tried wiping my tears away, but they were flowing too fast. "They made me wear panties."

"Where did you get the panties?"

"My mom's panties were too big for me, so I wore my little sister's panties. They fit me."

"Did your sister ever catch you wearing her panties?"

"No, but my mom did." As soon as I blurted that out, I bit my lip, regretting I volunteered that my mom caught me.

Darrell laughed, his laugh vibrating right into my body, it seemed. "What did your mommy say when she caught you wearing panties?"

I openly sobbed, my shoulders shaking. "She laughed and said she always thought I was a fag, and told me I should wear panties all the time like a good little fag."

Darrell laughed again. "Did you tell her you were also a cock sucker too?"

I shook my head, "No, I never told her that."

"Why didn't you report it to the police or the school?"

I hung my head in shame, "They took pictures of me sucking their cocks and in panties and said they would show everybody if I ever told anyone."

"Who else have you told about this," Darrell asked.

"Just my wife. We tell each other everything," I answered.

"What was her reaction?"

"She was sympathetic with me. She understood."

"Has your wife ever been forced to suck anybody off in school, like you did?"

"No, mine is the only penis she's ever had."

Darrell leaned back and laughed. It was a deep belly laugh.

Then he leaned forward and said, "No, you do not have a penis. You don't have a cock, either. What you have is a dick, a dickie, a weewee, a little Lyle. You are a wanker. Don't you ever call what you have a penis or a cock. Understood?"

I looked down and nodded, "Yes, Sir."

He stared at me for a long time. I got nervous and started twitching. He finally said, "Okay, I am going to give you a chance. You will be on probation for several months. At anytime you fail to do what I tell you to do, or do not show me respect, you will be gone. Do you understand that?"

I nodded yes, and said "Yes, I understand."

"The lady out front is my mamma. Everybody just calls her Mamma. You will also show her respect, and do absolutely everything that she tells you to do, understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. You will be given additional training here, and we will help you start out. Also, to start out, I'll give you a draw against your commissions. But you will have to earn it. Mamma will have you sign a document that spells out the draw and commission agreement, and the conditions under which you will work here. I normally don't do this, but I will even allow you to pull out an amount against your draw tomorrow, since I know you are in trouble. You will start in the morning. Everything understood?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I understand."

Darrell rolled his eye up, "Yes, you understand what?"

"Um, oh! Yes, I understand everything."

"Are you dense? Yes, you understand WHAT?"

I think I finally understood what he was after. "Yes, I understand, Sir?"

"That's better. Now get your skinny little white ass out of here and see Mamma."

"Yes, Sir!"

Mamma went over my draw and commission agreement very briefly, and emphasized that I was on probation, and could be let go for any reason or even no reason. She said she would have a check for me against the draw in the morning. I was to report at 9:00 AM sharp.

I thanked her and went home. Abby wasn't home yet, so I got on the computer and went into the various social media sites to look at what Darrell had seen that got his interest. There were many pictures of me and Abby and our friends. Some who used to be our friends. While all the pictures of Abby showed her to be very attractive, none were risque. The most revealing ones were when we were on vacation at the beach, and she was in a bikini. While it showed she had ample breasts and a nice body, not even those could be considered risque or racy whatsoever.

When Abby got home, I told her I got the job, but also told her about the really inappropriate questions, like if she has sex with other men, and his asking for more pictures of her and was disappointed I didn't have any that showed her in something revealing. I even told her that I had to tell him about being made to blow the black bully and wearing panties. I told her about the draw against commission and that I would be on probation for several months.

While she was shocked, she said, "We don't really have any choice. Our electricity will be shut off in a few days, and soon we will be evicted. You need to do what he tells you to do, at least for now. I know it will be hard."

I nodded in agreement, and gave her a soft kiss on her luscious, full lips. She gave me an encouraging smile. I would do anything to make her happy.

The next day, I reported for work, getting there before 9:00. Mamma assigned me an office, and gave me some reading material, and also gave me some training DVD's I could watch on a computer on my desk. Some of the DVD's were about the system they use for writing up insurance quotes and binders. Before lunch, she gave me a check against the draw, as promised.

She said, "Remember, this must be paid back, either through offset against your commissions or in cash if you stop working here. My son will get it out of you one way or another, you better believe that."

I believed her. During lunch, I went to the bank to cash the check, then quickly made a payment against our electricity bill.

Mid-afternoon, the blonde girl I had seen during my interview came into my office with another girl, dark haired, to introduce themselves. As short as the skirt was on the blonde girl, the dark haired girl had an even shorter skirt. They both had incredibly long legs, right up to their, umm, well, you know what. Both of them were gorgeous.

The blonde said her name was Candy. I thought "Candy" was a name reserved for strippers, but I refrained from saying that. The dark haired girl said her name was Riley.

They sat in the chairs in front of my desk. When they sat, I could clearly see their panties. Both of their panties were pink and lacy. They made no effort to hide anything. It was very hard to tear my eyes away, but I managed to after a bit. They were both smiling at me, knowing I was looking. They didn't seem to mind.

Finally, Riley said, "We hear you have a very pretty wife. What is her name?"

"Thank you. Yes. Abby."

Candy piped up and said, "Could we see some pictures of her?"

"Sure," I said, wondering why they would want to see pictures of my wife. I got my cell phone out, and showed them.

"Yes, very pretty," exclaimed Riley. "I can see why Darrell hired you." Then she gave me a huge smile. I got nervous, wondering what the hell that meant.

They both got up and wiggled their asses out of my office. I stared for several minutes at the empty spot in my doorway where their asses were last seen. I was embarrassed that my dick even got a bit hard. They were very hot girls.

For a couple days, I went through a lot of training on the office procedures, on the computer systems, etc. so that when I was finally allowed to handle a customer, I would have at least some idea as to what I was doing.

At the end of the third day, Mamma called me over to her desk. She told me to drop my pants. I laughed, and started to turn toward the door to go home. She caught my arm and twisted. It hurt.

I said, "Ow! That hurt!"

She ignored that, and said, "Drop your motherfucking pants. I won't tell you again."

I was startled, but undid my belt and zipped down, then dropped my pants to my knees. She looked at my white briefs.

She laughed, and said "Not much there, is there? Tomorrow come in wearing pink panties. It's a job requirement."

I laughed and went home.

That evening, I told Abby what happened. She laughed, saying, "Wow, that is such a weird place to work. I've never heard of something like that. Mamma was obviously joking, though."

The next morning, I arrived at work before Mamma did. She came in several minutes after, and called me over to her desk.

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