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After being groomed and outed publicly as faggot, I fled. While away, I clarify things. Instead of hiding my cravings, I craved them, I even had the urge to dress up a little girly, femboy. I am now in a relationship of sorts with an old-school friend. At the same time, I was dicing with my luck with the local thugs in the nearby park. Foolishly my luck ran out, and those same thugs broke me in.
My Choice

(I apologize if the first half drags on a bit or if it's boring. I tried to bring my mental state into a gap story.)

After being captured by the B X 9 Crew, and raped by them, many times over, I lost count of just how many. A towel or rag was tossed over my head, to clean the cum off my face and body.

While kneeling, someone whispered for me to stay down before he walked away.

Those were the last two words I heard before Tiffany thumped me to the ground with a kick to the left side of my head.

When I looked up at her, she was not alone.

There was a big black man, in her arms. At first, I thought it was Shaquille O’Neal with prison tattoos.

It was obvious, that he was much bigger than any of the other B X 9 boys. He also looked, more dangerous, much like a bouncer or an enforcer. The others kept their distance as if he was the leader.

He went over and greeted the other guys, like a pack of hyenas, they gathered around him. Tiffany stood by me, her arms crossed and glaring, much like a schoolteacher.

Once the pack dispersed, the giant made a B-line towards me.

He walked like the Hulk, towards me. After what I had endured, I had a bad feeling about this.

So, I tried to scamper away, until he was right at me. He scared me to death, and I instinctively curled up in a fetal position.

He looked down at me, with a pissed-off look on his face.

Then he raised his arm high, I thought he was going to smash my head in. So, I closed my eyes and braced for impact.

Instead, he reached down and picked me up by the scruff of my neck and raised me high off the ground. With both hands, he my 140-pound body off the ground with ease. My feet dangled like I was hanging from the gallows. Soon, my eyes began to tear up and my nose had already started to run.

Then we made eye contact.

“In the future, you will receive more of the same if you enter our park again,” he snorted.

“Heed my warning, or you’ll never walk out of the park, again,” he said, with dead eyes.

“This park is BX9 territory, you must pay the piper, or die,” he glared at me and paused.

“You are to dress like a bitch, like you did today, every time you enter our park,” I blinked my eyes and nodded.

“Check for crew members in the area, and be good to them,” I looked at Tiffany, in my precarious position. She had her arms crossed and smiling.

“If none of my crew are about, go inside the shithouse,” he continued growling.

“Take off your knickers and wait,” he barked my stipulations.

“If no one comes, then leave those knickers or shorts by the taps, use lipstick, and scribble BX9 on the mirror,” I listened to his rules.

“You got that?”
he said shaking me like a ragdoll. I blinked a yes, then he paused and stared into my eyes.

Then, he let go of his grip around my neck, and I fell to the ground with a thud. It was like I was trash.

“Oh, and over time,” he continued as he walked towards Tiffany.

“We may have an errand or two for you to do,” he then walked away.

I watched him re-joined the rest of his crew by the picnic table.

Tiffany did not join them. She just stood there, with her arms crossed with a smirk.

I felt embarrassed and degraded as I crawled like a dog, on my hands and knees, and naked. Tiffany let out a tiny laugh.

Then once I found my clothes, I rose to my feet. I felt woozy and almost fell back down.

I tentatively dressed in my girly clothes and started my walk of shame home.

As I walked away, I was shivering from the cold and the abuse. I held my arms tightly to my chest and gingerly walked with my legs together.

What just happened? Was I smitten, or was I stupid, as I looked back at them one last time?


Once inside my loft, I immediately ran a bath. It was after 07:00 AM when I finally went to bed.

I had just been turned into a femboy fucktoy by a bunch of large black men. I felt ginger, stiff, sore, and messed up in my head, from ordeal. Then I slowly drifted off to sleep.


I must have slept for about ten hours before I woke up. Then I went to the bathroom, before gingerly returning to my bed. I just lay in bed, unable to get back to sleep or want to move much.

Every time I closed my eyes, I had visions of large black cocks or replays of the drama in the park.


This went on for two days. I was still stiff, sore, and tender and had caught myself a cold.

It was only then, that I decided to ring Zayne. I told him that I had caught a cold the other night, and I had been beaten up walking through the park. In truth, I didn’t feel up to telling him that, I had been gang-raped, by several big black guys.

For most of that week, I felt sick, sore, and sorry for myself.


Was it rape, probably. Did I enjoy it, yes eventually. Deep down, I was quite obsessed and infatuated with some of them.

The next call I made was to my doctor (Helena), she knew I was bisexual and that I liked the cock. So, I booked an appointment, at her clinic.

I ran a warm bath and soaked in it until the water went cold.


Two days later I limped to the bus stop and saw an LGBTQ Pride advertisement. It stuck to the back of my mind before I visited Dr. Helena.

She told me some home truths that I was blind to. The pills Tiffany introduced me to, were not migraine pills but cheap pills for transgenders. That explained a few things.

She knew I loved cock but told her I had rough sex with a bunch of black guys and that I was still sore all over from it.

She rubbed her eyes and face, before telling me to strip, and revealed all the hickeys and claw marks all over my body.

Then she went ahead and examined my body, by squeezing my balls, my ass, and my puffy man boobs. She then made me give her a urine sample and then made me get dressed. After the examination, we sat down again.

She said that my body was already showing signs, that I was changing from male to somewhere in between male and female.

I was told to book another appointment for a fortnight and take that time to decide what to do next. Before I left, she took some blood vials.

I left the clinic I noticed another flyer for that LGBTQ Event, I was feeling too shocked to worry about it.


Even as I sat on the bus home, I felt like a douchebag. I was feeling depressed, devastated, ashamed, gullible, and confused.

The bus stopped by the park, and I glared toward where my assault happened.

I then slowly walked home. My mind was not inside my head, as I walked like a zombie, bumping into posts, people, and trash cans.

Once home, I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what to do next.


The truth be known, up to recent times, I had always admired women, both to be with them and to be them. Not to be confused with how I feel about them right now.

Tiffany, my darling love of my life, changed that.

The fact, recently I rarely thought about jacking off, only as a passing thought, and only to see if it still works.

My body hair had started to thin or fall out, while my facial hair grew slower and less. Those things I didn’t mind so much.


Also, I did envy the way women gyrated their hips as they walked, and how wearing a simple pair of heels made men glued to their butts. It’s something a guy, couldn’t do.

The thing I hated was, how they used their sex to manipulate innocent souls like me. I hate Tiffany more than any other woman I know. She was the personification of evil.


So here I was moping around my loft for two days, trying to get my head around things. Mom knew something was up, but I didn’t say anything.

Then the light bulb went off inside my head. I had already been curious and wondered what it would be like to have a set of tits, even before Tiffany’s experiment. Now I have small man-boobs and gradual weight loss. I did like dressing up girly and the odd make-up. Getting away with it in public was nerve-racking, but I'm past that now.

Everything was going fine until the BX9 thugs caught me.


Sitting at home staring at the walls and thinking about Tiffany’s game, Zayne, the thugs, the upcoming festival, and my decision. Damn Tiffany.

After two days, I didn’t still feel like leaving my loft, but I started feeling horny again.

Was it boredom, confusion, horniness? I lay on my bed and open my box of toys and pulled out my 8-inch rubber replica cock. It’s been a while since I opened this box, but today I needed time to pleasure myself.

I held it open and compared it to my cock. It looked 3-4 inches larger than my limp cock. I rubbed handwash over my ass before I first fingered my ass before inserting it inside my ass.

Wow, once it slid inside me, I lay down on my stomach and spread my legs over the edge of my bed.

After fucking myself with it for about a minute. I pulled it out and sucked on it, before crawling down to my floor. The floor was polished floorboards. I then set the fake cock up on the floor near my bed and then lowered my body, and guided my ass into it, while grabbing my cock and balls.

I could feel the knob enter my ass, as I squatted over it. It felt like a long-lost friend.

Once it bottomed inside me, I let out a tiny grunt. I sat still with it buried inside me and breathing slowly.

After a few minutes of stretching my calves, I slowly began to grind on it, with my back supported by my bed.

I ground my hips and ass over it and caressed my manboobs, while I slowly squatted and pushed up from it, with my back rubbing against the backrest of my bed, then plunged back done on it.

It had been almost two weeks since the BX9 crew went through me, so it had been that many days since I thought about sex.

Eventually, cum trickled from the tip of my cock, and I felt good about myself afterward. I repeated the exercise the next day and the day after.


No longer was I depressed, I was back to fantasizing about BX9 and started thinking about going to the upcoming LGBTQ Festival. Oh, I still hated Tiffany. With all the dramas going on, I had forgotten about Zayne.

I rang Dr. Helena and told her I wanted to start taking transition treatment and therapy.

To be continued….
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