A Chance Encounter Ch. 02 – My First Rodeo

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A brunette with exotic features answered the door. She opened the door halfway, and leaned out from behind it. She stared blankly at me for a moment. Finally, she spoke.


“I have an appointment.” I said, meekly.

“Come in, pig.”

I opened the screen door and stepped into the house. She was wearing a green scotch plaid flannel shirt. A man’s shirt. Completely unbuttoned to reveal the cleavage of her heavy, sculpted breasts. Not too tall, and not thin. Curvy and tone. Young, maybe not even 20. At that age when any weight just melts into all the right places. Perfect olive skin. Long, wavy, almost jet-black hair, full, pouting lips, and deep brown sloe eyes.

She had her hand out. “Where’s the donation, bitch?”


“250 bucks.” “Or take a walk.”

I just gazed at her.

“There’s an ATM down the street. And hurry up. We don’t have all day to wait on your ass.”

She dismissed me with a nod of her head. I turned and left. The door slammed behind me.

I walked to my car, considering my situation. Where’s Ashley? Where’s Deke? Is this attractive young woman about to rip me off? The old “bait and switch”. Maybe I should just go home and forget this, at least for today. Besides, it’s a sunny Saturday morning and there are plenty of other things I should be doing.

I came back as quickly as I could with the money. She opened the door, ushered me in, and asked, “You have the 500?”

My face dropped. “500? You said 250.”

“That’s 250 each, bitch. Two girls, 250 each. We’re not even charging you for the stud. He’s got a thing for your faggoty ass.”

“Don’t forget about the outfit,” came a pleasant, familiar voice from another room close by.

“Oh, yeah. That’ll be 600 total. So that’s another…” There was a pause.

“Let’s make it an even 500 more, babe.” The bubbly voice from beyond offered helpfully.

“Another 500.”

“Bu… but… you just…” I stuttered, at a loss for words.

“It’s the new math, bitch.” The severe brunette grabbed the cash from my open hand and waved me out again, adding, “And hurry the fuck up!” The door was closing on me before I could respond.

I should just fucking go home now, I thought. I’m getting screwed here, and not in the way I’d hoped. My cheeks were red with rage. I felt like crying. I was lost and confused.

A short time later, I was back with 600 dollars more, just to avoid any further confusion.

The cash was in her hands. She pointed to the carpeted floor. She turned and led me into the kitchen with the white tile floor. Crawling behind her, I looked up to notice her shapely legs and firm, ample ass, outlined in black PVC leggings. Nondescript, incongruous Ugg booties on her feet. The swaying of her hips was hypnotic, and began to soothe my prior concerns.

I crawled into the kitchen and knelt in front of her as directed, while she sat down in a chair at a little breakfast nook table. Someone was seated beside her. It was Ashley.

Blonde, voluptuous, warm, beautiful. Bitchy brunette and uber blonde real-life barbie doll didn’t add up at first. Then Madison spoke.

“How was that, Ma’am?”

“Perfect. Just perfect.”

As Ashley said this, I heard her shift in her seat to look at something. “Oh, poo! Deke’s gonna be late. Piggy’s gonna have to entertain us for a while. Let’s play a game.”

After a pause, she added, “Oh, this is my little goddess-in-training. Ain’t she something?”

I looked up and began to speak, “I think she’s…”

“Shut the fuck up.” Ashley cut me right off, not angrily, just dismissively, still peering at her cell phone, an index finger raised in the air, the universal gesture for “Shut the fuck up.”

She looked up from her phone, and down at me. “Don’t you know a rhetorical question when you hear one?” She smiled. My heart raced.

“Introductions.” “Goddess Madison.” “Pig.” “Pig.” “Goddess Madison.”

Madison looked down at me and spoke. “Pig.” That was clever.


“I think you’re gonna like this game, pig.” Ashley leaned back slightly in her chair and spat in my face, catching me on the cheek just below my right eye.

“Open your mouth, pig. And keep it open.”

“Go ahead,” Ashley coaxed Madison. She spat. It landed on my upper lip and dripped into my mouth.

“We’ll count it. That’s one for you.”

Back and forth they went. Sipping water at times to recharge. My jaw was tiring but I dared not close my mouth or turn away.

“First one to twenty gets to kick piggy in the nuts!” A titter of laughter erupted from Madison.

They continued to drizzle me with spittle, until my face, neck, and shoulders were baptized in divine and demiurge saliva. I heard a door open and then slam shut. Someone was walking up the stairs from the lower level of the split-level house.

Deke walked into the kitchen, kissed Ashley on the cheek, acknowledged Madison with a http://www.izmirlitv.com/ nod, turned, and looked at me.

Ashley spoke. “Crawl over there to the middle of the room, pig.” I immediately complied.

Still fully clothed, I crawled to the appointed spot and knelt back down on that tiled floor, in front of the counter and several feet from Ashley and Madison. Deke stood in front of me, unzipped the fly of his jeans, reached a hand through the flap of his boxers, retrieved his enormous penis, and began to urinate on me.

“Open your mouth,” commanded Ashley, as the micturient rite of consecration continued for what seemed like several minutes.

The warm piss shot into, and out of, my mouth. Too strong a stream to catch and swallow much of it. He directed his aim all over my face and body. My clothes were getting soaked, right down to my socks and underwear. When this perverse anabaptist finished, he just slipped his hose back into the briefs, zipped up, and headed downstairs.

I knelt there on the floor, drenched in his urine. As it cooled, I began to shake a little. Ashley walked over and stared down at me. Silent in the moment. I looked up to her. Her eyes seemed to be searching mine. I was embarrassed and felt naked in front of her, although I was still fully clothed.

“Listen carefully.” She began. A serious tone to her voice.

“There are paper towels, Windex, and some garbage bags on the counter for you to clean up this mess, then you will go upstairs and take a shower in the guest bathroom, you remember where it is, there’s an enema kit in the shower, give yourself an enema and then re-sanitize it with the alcohol in the cabinet, then go to the bedroom right next door, put on the outfit hanging on the door – all of it, including the boots – and then come down to the lower level.”

With that, Ashley turned and left the room. “Come on, Mad.” She called. Madison sprang up and followed at her heels.

I cleaned that kitchen floor quickly and tidily. Not sure what to do with my urine-laden clothes, I undressed and put everything, including my sneakers, into one of the garbage bags, tied it, and left it in the corner.

I showered and evacuated as directed, eager for, and fearful of, the heretofore unknown downstairs netherworld. I walked from the bathroom to the bedroom. There, hanging on the door, was a cheap novelty cowgirl outfit. All bright, shiny, hot pink. All latex. A little vest, mini-skirt, and a felt Stetson. Also pink. Draped over the hat was a bleached blonde, ponytailed wig. On the floor were a pair of pink latex novelty western riding boots.

I walked down the stairs to a low-lit room with a pool table and bar on one side. At the other end of the room was a sofa, facing a television, and a leather recliner. Ashley was seated in the recliner, tapping out a message with her thumbs on her phone.

Deke was relaxing on the sofa, facing away from me. Madison was kneeling on the sofa to the right of Deke, facing me, her left hand perched on the back of the sofa. Her right arm and hand were hidden behind Deke’s broad shoulders, but she seemed to be rubbing something, up and down, in a long, slow arc of movement.

Madison gasped and then giggled as I entered the room.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Ashley had looked up from her phone.

I crossed the room towards them, unsteady in the boots that were a little too small and, though the riding heels were not all that high, somewhat precarious.

Ashley directed me to go back and do it over, several times. Coaching me to put one foot right in front of the other when I walked, as on a wire, or in a single thin line, and that if I did this my hips would sway automatically, seductively, like a real woman’s. I repeated this five times until she was satisfied.

Madison just watched. Eyes wide. Mouth agape. Right hand still stroking Deke’s firm, thick manhood.

Finally, Ashley allowed me to complete my catwalk, all the way to the sofa, ending with me kneeling down in front of Deke as she captured my sexy, sissy pilgrimage to cock with her cell phone.


Deke was lying back on the sofa, almost prone, nude save for a high-quality brown Stetson and vintage leather Cartwright western boots. With his tall, wiry frame, and scruffily unshaven face, he looked the part of the untamed cowboy. His eyes were closed and his legs were crossed at the ankles when I arrived. He seemed to be enjoying the impromptu handjob that acolyte Madison was providing.

He uncrossed his legs as I knelt in front of him. Without further instruction, I began to kiss and lick his balls, caressing the folds of skin along his bulging scrotum with my hand. My tongue slowly made its way up to the thick shaft of his cock where it came into contact with Madison’s hand. She jerked her hand away and uttered a disgusted, “Ewww, gross.”

My tongue continued its travel upward, as I tilted my head to the side to run my open mouth along its length. I caught Madison’s eye as she peered down on me. She looked repulsed.

Then she stood up, and I heard her walk over to where Ashley was seated. I couldn’t make out the content of their soft murmuring. Then Ashley took a seat on the sofa to Deke’s left. Madison returned to her position to Deke’s right.

I made my way to the tip of Deke’s penis, swirling my tongue around the head, and then swallowing the shaft, my left hand firmly clasping the base, fingers not quite reaching around it. My right hand eased its way to my own little sissyhood, rubbing that useless appendage as it was already beginning to leak faggot jizz.

Ashley observed this peccadillo, gave a disapproving wag of her head, and scolded, “Not, today, pig. You’re a working pig today.”

I reluctantly lifted my right hand back up and clasped it to my left, managing in that way to circumnavigate that girthy pole with my hands. I worked that cock with my eager mouth, slowly and deeply, hovering directly over it to keep my neck as straight as possible, forcing my mouth further, until I could feel the head pushing against the epiglottis, past the hypopharynx, and right up to, and then into, the esophageal sphincter.

I gagged, autonomically and parasympathetically. Coughing up a viscous sputum. Undeterred, and now anxious to take a ride on that delicious bull cock, I lubed the shaft with said sputum, and took it upon myself to climb up onto the sofa, shiny pink faggot mini-skirt and all, cowgirl boots glistening in the light from Ashley’s recording cell phone camera. I mounted that unbridled horse cock with reckless abandon, straddling Deke’s lap, careful to rest my hands on the back of the sofa for support and balance, and not on his shoulders, recalling his prior warnings about unrequested touching of any of his body parts, aside from his genitalia.

Perhaps too eagerly, and too quickly, I plopped down on Deke’s shaft. I winced at the burning pain as the thick head burst through my anal sphincter. I cried out for poppers. In point of fact, I cried, “Poppers?!?”

My loud, plaintive, feminine-sounding cry resulted in a wave of further derision from Madison. She aped my voice mockingly, “Poppers?!? Poppers?!?” Then she scoffed at me, without a hint of humor, “Oh, my God! What a fucking faggot.”

Ashley, now positioned in front of this cowboy-on-faggot cowgirl penetration scene, filming it, reached into a pocket of her denim shorts and handed a bottle of said vasodilator to Madison. Madison unenthusiastically unscrewed the cap and reached over and held the vial under my left nostril. Then she just handed me the vial and the cap, and said, “Here, do it yourself, you sick fuck.”

She stood up from the sofa, and moved behind me, next to Ashley. I could hear them whispering back and forth to each other, but could not make out the words. There seemed to have been a difference of opinion about something amongst the two of them.

Having been offered autonomy, I liberally applied the poppers and was soon bouncing freely, joyously, but tightly, on that cock. I dared to rest my head, tilted to the side, on Deke’s shoulder, facing his neck and even planting a single kiss behind his ear. He didn’t react. Neither did he protest. He just relaxed there, eyes closed, brown Stetson tilted down, covering his brow, the brim almost resting on the bridge of his nose.

After a while, I turned my head away from him to see Ashley, nude, relaxing in similar fashion, head resting on top of the sofa back, lips parted, eyes closed, her brow knitted in seeming concentration. Madison was kneeling in front of her on the floor, her perfect ass resting on the heels of her feet, nude, her head buried between Ashley’s thighs, kissing and licking her vagina tenderly but vigorously. They had resolved their issue.

From my lofty vantage point atop Deke’s saddle horn, I continued to covertly observe their moment of passion. Madison was slowly massaging Ashley’s labia with the index and middle fingers of her left hand in an erotic “V” shaped salute of peace, tonguing her clitoris. Her eyes were closed. The fingers of her right hand rested on her own vaginal lips, holding them apart, as she probed her clit with her middle finger and rocked back and forth ever so slightly on her knees.

Ashley then reached down and pulled Madison’s right hand up and into her mouth. She kissed and sucked the sweet juice from Madison’s fingers, eliciting a soft coo of excitement and pleasure from her. Ashley answered this with a purr of absolute contentment.

Ashley turned her head and opened her eyes. Her gaze met mine. With a smile on her face, and Madison’s moist fingers still lodged in her mouth, she reached out her hand to me and ran her fingers down across my forehead and over my eyes, averting them, but softly so, from her moment of most intimate cunnilingual splendor.

I turned my head back to the warmth of Deke’s inner shoulder. I rocked my hips back and forth in unhurried motion, drawing that big cock deep inside of me. Time passed in near silence as the sons of Eros and the daughters of Psyche met in sweet embrace on that Dionysian sofa.


Ashley sensed that the time was at hand. She stood up and positioned herself in front of the sofa instructing me to turn and face her. I did so without leaving the comfort, and swelling discomfort, of my perch. She lent me her hand to balance as I squatted the half circle to face her.

“Now look at me and ride that dick with real enthusiasm!” Goddess Ashley was transformed into director and producer Ashley. She called out to her new partner in film. “Madison, please raise the dimmer switch there on the wall.” “Yes, thank you.”

I felt exposed. I saw the sublimity and the pathos of the scene all at once. Cowboy Deke, big leather boots planted firmly on the carpet, muscular frame stretched out to its fullness, face buried under the brown Stetson, hands clasped behind his head, in a gesture of restful, dominating masculinity.

I, soft and vulnerable, a pink body in a pink latex outfit, complete with pink cowgirl hat and little pink boots. Not even a cowgirl. A cow-faggot. At the very least, I was glad I had taken Ashley’s advice, and referral, to get a full body wax. She was right. It would look better on film that way.

Madison came up next to her and carefully painted my lips a bright pink gloss, pouting her lips to encourage mine to follow her example. She returned to her seat, upright and proud in the role of assistant to the director.

“Now… Let’s see you bust that bronco, little cowgirl!” Ashley drawled in her best, John Wayne-esque manner. I bounced for the camera, the ponytails of my wig bouncing with me. Up and down, pushing through the pain in my ass, and the humiliation of my complete emasculation, writ large in the smile spreading across Madison’s pleasing face.

Something began to move and grow within me. Deke’s cock. Long and thick as it was, was expanding inside me as I pumped my ass slowly and deeply up and down on its shaft. I could no longer contain my reaction to the pressure building inside me.

I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around Ashley’s waist, and buried my face in her sweet, comforting bosom, muffling my moans of pain and pleasure as they grew louder and more urgent. Ever the consummate artist, Ashley reached back and gave a gentle slap to my clasped hands, alerting me to let her go. She backed up and continued to film the unfolding climax scene with her phone.

I felt Deke’s scrotum began to convulse as he suddenly reached out his hands and pushed down hard on my shoulders, holding me in place on his throbbing, ejaculating cock. His hips swiveled as he dumped his load deep in my rectum. My body rocked to the rhythm of his hips.

Ashley continued her filming, while waving her free arm in the air and crying, “Yippee ki yay, little cowgirl! That was some good ridin’!”

Deke’s hips slowed and then ceased their motion. His pressure on my shoulders eased. He let out a sigh as he relaxed back into the sofa.

He suddenly lifted me off of him and tossed me forward. I was momentarily airborne over the front edge of the sofa, managing to straighten my legs for a hopeful upright landing on the floor. My right leg gave out on touchdown, and I fell forward in an inelegant belly flop onto the carpet. Ripe faggot ass, little felt cowgirl hat, sexy pink boots, and all.

Never at a loss for words, and without skipping a beat, Ashley called out, “I’ll give you an 8.5 for degree of difficulty, but just a 5 for style.” She laughed with a chortling snort.

With me spread eagle on the carpet, still reeling from my abrupt, emergency ejection from his cock, Deke stood up, once again kissed Ashley on the cheek, doffed his cowboy hat gallantly for the ladies, set it on Madison’s pretty head, bringing the first smile of this day to her face, and made his way upstairs.

“There’s a little bathroom right inside the laundry room over there, pig. Once you can walk again, why don’t you go in there and clean yourself up, okay?” Ashley offered, with a hint of consolation in her voice.

“Oh, and you can leave that ridiculous outfit in there, except for this – yoink!”

She reached down and yanked the pink felt cowgirl hat from my head.

I crawled, actually crawled, to that bathroom. And this time, not due to any genuflecting subservience of erotic roleplay, but due to actual, physical, rectal pain that flashed a neurosensory alert when I attempted to stand and walk. I was in there for some time, cleaning and cooling my inflamed asshole, and allowing my legs and knees time to recover. Looking out the side window, I saw the back of Deke’s truck as it pulled out of the driveway.


When I came out, naked, Ashley and Madison were sitting next to each other on the sofa, smoking a joint. Madison was still wearing the brown stetson, fully nude, her right arm outstretched and resting on the back of the sofa, as she took a slow, luxurious hit off the joint, fully empowered, and growing into goddesshood.

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