She was always the one in charge. From day one. I only existed to obey, to accept, to endure. And when she finally tired of pretending my tiny cock was enough for her, she decided to turn me into something useful.
That afternoon she came home with a pink bag. She gave me no choice. She forced me to undress, laughed at the sight of my ridiculous penis shrunken with embarrassment, and started dressing me. Bright pink leggings that squeezed my ass and accentuated every fake curve she'd forced me to create with padding. A pink crop top that left my breasts exposed. Pink high heels. Pink nail polish. Painted lips. "Now you're my gym buddy," she said with that cruel smile that both excited and terrified me. "The dumb friend who always goes with me. The one who stays silent and accepts whatever she's given."
She dragged me to the gym at night. The building was almost empty, just the lights of the machines and the reflection of the city through the windows. She led me to a dark corner near the weights and, without wasting a moment, pulled out the roll of silver electrical tape.
She tied my wrists behind my back. She gagged me tightly, the tape stuck to my painted lips. She blindfolded me. She left me there, kneeling on the mat, breathing through my nose, my heart pounding in my throat as I listened to her changing a few feet away.
Suddenly, I felt her yank the tape off my eyes.
And I saw her. She wasn't wearing her usual low-cut dress anymore. Now she was covered in holographic black. The shiny crop top that accentuated her firm breasts, the leggings that clung to her hips and that perfect ass like a second skin, reflecting the gym lights in flashes of dark rainbows. The white Queen of Spades logo on her chest and hip. Black stilettos. Black nail polish. Red lips. A predator's gaze.
She stood in front of me, one hand on her hip, the other raising her middle finger in utter contempt.
“Look at her closely,” she said, slowly pacing around me. “This is the real version. The one who fucks real men. Black. Big. The kind that actually fill you up. You… you’re only good for this.”
She crouched down in front of me, grabbed my face with those black nails, and forced me to look at her while she took selfies. The phone’s flash illuminated my made-up face, the gag, my eyes wet with humiliation. In one photo, she flipped me the bird. In another, she made the “loser” sign on her forehead. In another, she bent over with her legs spread, her holographic ass glowing, and looked down at me over her shoulder with a smug, whore-like smile.
“My friends are coming,” she whispered near my ear, licking my cheek. “They’re going to use that ass I’ve prepared for you.” They're going to laugh at your little dick while they fuck me first… or while I work out and leave them with you. Whatever you prefer.
She left me there, tied up, gagged, on my knees in the middle of the empty gym. She went over to the machines, swaying that shiny black ass with every step, and started working out like nothing was wrong. Deep squats. Deadlifts. The hologram of her leggings glowing every time she bent over.
And then they arrived.
Three tall, dark guys, with that presence that made my stomach clench with fear and desire. She didn't even stop working out. She just nodded toward where I was.
"There she is. My gym friend. The one who still thinks she's a man. Use her however you want. I'll finish my routine." One of them laughed when he saw my tiny dick peeking out from under my pink leggings. Another one grabbed my hair and forced me to watch as he pulled down his pants, revealing a thick, heavy, black cock that made mine look like a cruel joke. The third was already pulling out his phone to record.
She, from the squat machine, glanced at us out of the corner of her eye as she moved that perfect ass, wrapped in holographic black, up and down. Every time one of them penetrated me, she smiled. Every time I moaned against the gag, she tightened the weight. Every time they came inside me or on my face, she took another picture.
And I, dressed in pink, tied up, used, listening to my girlfriend laugh and tell them to keep going, could only think one thing as they tore me apart:
That this was exactly what she had always wanted.
And that, in the darkest, most humiliated depths of my being…
so had I.

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