Slut Boy Mega Collection Volume 1

Chapter Fifteen-1

Chapter Fifteen

The Incredible Hulga

It’s like the stars have finally aligned!

After three long years of hopelessly lusting after my monumental boss, we’ve suddenly been sent together to attend a meaningless business conference. Better yet, we’ve even been given connecting hotel rooms! Finally I get my chance to really hit upon the woman of my dreams!

Okay, I guess I must now reluctantly admit to my so-far s****l uselessness. I am unfortunately a ridiculously wimpy little s**t. At a skinny five foot-one and a hundred and five pounds I am absolutely tiny; so tiny that no woman yet has ever deigned to look once at me, much less twice, or (quit kidding me) consider riding my obviously unworthy body. They all scoff at me contemptuously.

Terrible, I know. And yet somehow this universal derision has inspired strange needs in me that I can barely admit to. All my adult life I’ve been spending my frustrated nights (and lately even days) dreaming about absolutely enormous women: Amazonian s*x monsters that find my tiny weakness a plus and even more: an absolutely irresistible attraction. By now I want nothing more than to be helplessly crushed beneath such a womanly behemoth while she has her violent, unstoppable way with me.

Of course I’d always assumed this was just an unattainable fantasy. But then along came my maddest wishes in incredible living flesh: my newest boss and immediate superior Ms Hulga Sinastra.

This woman is unbelievably enormous. At six foot-six she’s close to a foot and a half taller than me, and well more than twice my weight. She’s so huge that everyone calls her ‘Hulka’ and not just as a joke. Truly she is bigger and stronger than almost any pro wrestler alive. Unfortunately she also holds all men in sneering contempt. This I learned quickly enough – the first time I timidly asked her out of course – yet not even the knowledge of her confirmed homosexuality has been able to deter me. Especially now: I have lately overheard her grumbling around the office for weeks about how s*x-starved she is, about how tender young, meekly submissive lesbians have all but disappeared from the club scene. Perhaps this weekend together is my one chance to entice her back to heterosexuality, if only temporarily...

So we’ve just moved into our joining rooms. Neither of us is enthusiastic about attending tonight’s seminar. So when hulking Hulga strides unannounced into my half of the suite and declares that it’s time to go I gather my courage and try her once again.

“Okay boy. Let’s get this over with.”

“Do we have to? Come on Ms Sinastra: we both know this trip is a joke. Why don’t we just stay here, order up some dirty movies, and see what happens? You know I’ve been hot for you forever. And I’ve heard you moaning about being s*x starved all month. Why not try a guy for once? We have an entire unsupervised weekend here all alone together. No one will ever know what we get up to. You’re the boss after all. Why don’t you decree that we have some incredible s*x together instead?”

Right away I can see Hulga dismissing this as always, and my spirits sink. But then her cool gray eyes go kind of misty, and she disappears inside herself. After a minute or two of inscrutable introspection she finally speaks haltingly, fingering her thick, titian tresses and in the process making my f*****g day.

“You know...maybe...it might work...you might work...you will have to submit to this unstintingly of course...but surely you will...you will submit to everything or get nothing...you know, this actually might be the most fun ever!”

At last hulking Hulga looks down her patrician nose at me.

“Boy, you know that I am a fully committed lesbian. As such, I only f**k other lesbians. So if you want me to f**k you, to have violent, brutal s*x with you, then you have to pretend to be a lesbian yourself. You have to let me make you up like a lesbian, dress you up as a lesbian, and then f**k you like a lesbian. It’s that or nothing. If you submit to all this properly I promise I will f**k you all weekend long – and maybe even whenever I can’t find a real lesbian capable of satisfying me. So your agreement right now may determine the entire course of your so-far non-existent s*x life. Are you appropriately eager about this prospect? As eager as I suddenly am?”

“Oh of course I am gorgeous!” I immediately cry.

Truly I’ve paid minimal attention to this soliloquy. All I’ve grasped was that we are actually going to f**k; that my ridiculous virginity is going to be gone at long last, and at the hands of the truly most wondrous, monstrous woman of my dreams. Out of my mind with ecstatic anticipation I sit before the vanity mirror as ordered and wait for her to return from her room.

For several minutes I fidget there madly, pressing and rubbing my eager erection through my thin slacks. Then huge Hulga comes back into my room carrying a large suitcase, from which she begins withdrawing all sorts of cosmetics. Finally I get the first inkling of what being Hulga’s lesbian lover entails.

“Wait a minute...what?” is all I can manage. Hulking Hulga immediately overrides me, all authority and superiority in feminine form.

“Shut up, boy. And that’s the last time I shall call you such. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a girl from now on: a lubricious little lesbian slut. Your name is no longer Gino but Gina. Now sit still while I transform you to my liking Gina!”

What choice do I have? My boss is as irresistible as always. My face flaming with mortification, I somehow still my uneasy fidgeting as Hulga makes me up first with liquid foundation and powder blush, then eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara and finally blood-red lipstick. She clips long, dangling sapphire earrings to my lobes and lastly pulls a shining sable pageboy wig down over my short blonde crew-cut. Gazing at myself in the mirror then I have to admit this all goes shockingly well with my pale complexion and dark blue eyes. I actually look...I look...shit, I look pretty! Decidedly underage, vulnerable, and deliciously slutty, but undeniably pretty! Squirming with embarrassment, I demurely meet Hulga’s appraising gaze in the mirror.

“Good enough for a start,” she sniffs at me. “Now get those ridiculously inappropriate clothes off! We need to get you properly attired.”

Quickly I strip naked – my miniscule p***s throbbing with two upright inches of incredibly erect anticipation – wondering how I could possibly be so wildly turned on by this ridiculously humiliating situation. Meanwhile hulking Hulka begins withdrawing items of deep blue satin lingerie from her suitcase.

“Good thing I never go anywhere without this stuff. You never know when you might need it. All of my lovers are just as petite as you are, and I like to see them looking sexy. This stuff should fit you well enough, and finish your outward transformation beautifully. Then we’ll see about changing you more fundamentally.”

Gulp! What’s that supposed to mean? Still I experience an ever increasing kinky excitement at the feather-light, slippery-smooth feel of the garments I’m forced to don. First I pull the skimpy, split-crotch panties up over my hips, gasping as my turgid, tingling genitals slip through the central opening. Then I clumsily don the similarly split-open bra, marveling at the hardness of my protruding n*****s. Next comes a short, sheer, frilly teddy, secured at the belly with a pair of ribbons, and then finally huge Hulka hands me a pair of tightly-meshed stockings.

Luckily being blonde, the hair on my legs is fine and downy, and doesn’t spoil the illusion by tufting through the mesh. Nevertheless as I sit back down and pull these up my slender thighs Hulka casually remarks that if tonight’s experiment is a success she expects me to keep all of my body hair shaved or waxed off in the future. Trembling anew at the implications of all this, I take the shiny black pumps she hands me and awkwardly cram my feet into them. Then I stand again at last, utterly transformed and tottering in my three-inch heels.

“Stand by the mirror Gina, and admire yourself,” orders Hulka. “Don’t you look and feel sexier than ever in your so far worthless life?”

“Yes, Ms Sinastra,” I quaver in response, and this is no lie. My breath is coming in stitches and my tiny erection strains up maddeningly. I move to fondle it, and she immediately slaps my hand away.

“No! You never touch that vile little thing while you’re with me! As far as you’re concerned it no longer exists! Hell, it’s so tiny that’s practically the truth already. I want you to rub and pinch your n*****s instead; caress your newly feminine form everywhere else, even explore your tight little sissy-p***y, but never for a second acknowledge that you ever had a c**k! Now pose and vamp and perform for me sissy, get me hot enough to want your slutty little cherry!”

More aroused and uneasy than ever I comply, standing before the mirror and my boss and swaying in place, running my hands all over myself and feeling my skin rash out in tingling gooseflesh. I bat my mascara-heavy lashes at my boss and reflection and blow them sultry lipsticked kisses. Oh how hard my unacknowledged c**k is, and oh how I long to jerk it! Still I somehow endure the deprivation as ordered, consoling myself with the knowledge that that unworthy organ will soon experience its first ever ride, surely the ride of any lifetime! Then my hope and anticipation skyrocket together, as Hulka at last orders me onto the room’s big king-sized bed.

“All right, Gina. Get your slutty little ass on the mattress. And you’d better walk there like the feminine little lesbian slut you now are, or I’ll have to whip the f*****g skin off you until you learn!”

Gulp again! This situation just keeps getting heavier and heavier! I turn, and see that Hulka has piled the two pillows on top of one another against the center of the slatted headboard. Concentrating meticulously, I mince my hip-swaying way over there, stumbling only once or twice in my unfamiliar footwear. Fortunately Hulga makes no mention of these lapses, and gratification swells my breast as I reach the foot. Heart pounding excitedly, I climb onto the bed, move to the middle and recline with my head and shoulders propped up. Raising my lustful gaze to the incredible Hulka, I see her withdrawing a set of handcuffs and a wide roll of black plastic strapping tape from her suitcase. Grinning unsettlingly at my wide-eyed gape, she strides purposely toward me.

“Yes, I hope you like bondage, Gina girl. Because s*x with me absolutely requires it. Even being able to effortlessly overpower you can’t begin to satisfy my lust for total control in s****l situations. You will submit to me absolutely at all times, whether I’m f*****g you, whipping you, or just playing with your virginal little lesbian body. You will simply have no other choice. Now put your wrists together above your head!”

Once again this is no contest. My desperate virginal lust – and irresistible, even innate submission compulsion to her authority – immediately exceeds my ever increasing uneasiness. I raise my arms and put my hands together. Smirking with triumph Hulka climbs onto the bed and cuffs my wrists around one of the headboard slats. Then she rips free a strip of that tape and plasters it across my mouth, gagging me.

“Perfect,” she breathes, and then kisses the tape where it covers my thickly painted lips. “Now you just sit tight, my luscious little lesbian, while I go back to my own room and get myself properly ready for you. Just think: in a matter of minutes you’ll be a loser little virgin no more!”

My heart pounds even more wildly at this, its rhythm felt just as strongly in my never-been-touched-by-anyone-but-me erection as in my chest. Despite her recent decree I just can’t help myself: the moment Hulka turns her back on me and strides away I begin lifting and squirming my stocking-clad legs around, using my thighs to squeeze and rub and stimulate both that intensely eager organ and my tightening testicles unbelievably.