Prom Night
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PROM NIGHT
By Wyrdey
Jack pouted and pulled at his frilly bustier.
His reflection in the bathroom mirror looked cute enough - no, more than
cute, he was genuinely pretty - but he wasn't satisfied. His face was
expertly dolled up, his dark hair gorgeously draped across his
shoulders, and every boy in the world dreams of owning a prom dress like
his. He had planned the design for months before having it made by the
best people in the city.
But still he pouted.
Beside him, his friends were talking and giggling with excitement as
they touched up their lipstick and checked their hair.
"Sandy is such a lady!" Bill breathed dreamily. "You should have seen
the limo that she hired to bring us here!"
Garry giggled along with his friend. "I know one girl who's, like, so
getting lucky tonight..." he teased.
Bill blushed and coyly went back to checking his kiss in the mirror.
Jack leant over to check his cleavage. The top of his big padded push-up
bra poked up into sight as he tried to adjust the cups for maximum
impact.
His pout grew even more ferocious.
He had been pestering Mummy about a boob job for weeks - she'd paid for
Daddy's, after all.
Not that there was anything wrong with his perky c-cups, but he always
wished that he had more to work with.
Girls were, like, so shallow. They always paid the most attention to the
really busty boys, their eyes following those big, jiggling mounds
around the room.
Bill was fiddling with one of his pearl earrings. "How are things with
Bethany, Jack?" he gushed, before suddenly remembering and biting his
lip.
Garry froze and glanced across at his best friend.
Bethany was a very nice girl, but she wasn't the one that Jack's eye had
been on.
Jack frowned icily. He still couldn't believe that Sarah - the captain
of the football team - had asked that little slut Terry to the prom
instead of him.
I mean, what was so great about Terry? He wasn't even a cheerleader!
As the head of the squad, Jack had seen to that - making sure everyone
laughed off Terry's audition even though he was by far the most talented
cheerleader there.
And, most annoying of all, the two were a shoe-in to win Prom Queen and
King.
Bill, still biting at his painted lip, exchanged a worried little look
with Garry.
They were rather surprised when Jack gave a sly little smirk. "Oh,
Bethany's fine" he answered casually, fussing with his hair.
He wanted to look just perfect when that little whore got what he
deserved in front of the whole school.
He'd run through it in his mind a hundred delicious times: how Sarah
would turn away in disgust from her sniveling date and, as her glance
wandered across the room, her eye would fall on Jack. He would look so
gorgeous and hot and sexy that she would get, like, totally turned on
right there.
And he would just glance at her coolly and be like 'you could have had
this...' and then he'd start laughing at them along with everyone else.
And she'd be like totally crushed.
Jack smiled as he added some even sluttier pink lipstick.
He totally couldn't wait.
Jack's hatred of Terry went back years: it was even pre-MOD.
Back in those days Terry had just been a gawky little geek with huge
glasses, a high voice, and long, greasy hair. Jack and his football
buddies, Bill and Garry, had made Terry's life an endless hell, teasing
and beating him whenever possible.
They had always called him a girl, so when the MOD Virus appeared, they
hadn't been surprised when he'd been one of the first affected. They'd
loved it, in fact, laughing themselves stupid at the thought of what was
about to happen to him.
The virus was still not understood. All that was known about it was that
it seemed to affect the systems regulating sex hormones.
If a man caught it, it would somehow rewire his glands so that - soon
enough - testosterone would disappear and estrogen would begin coursing
through his veins instead.
Vice-versa if a woman caught it.
Some thought that its effects were even more subtle, somehow affecting
people on an incredibly deep, genetic level.
The virus had spread much faster than anyone had thought possible. Jack
remembered the morning that he woke to discover that his voice was
breaking and his nipples were huge and itchy.
For some reason that he could no longer quite recall, this had terrified
him beyond words.
Everyone had talked, in their new, breaking voices, about declaring a
'public health emergency' - closing down all the schools and shops and
any other place where people might become infected.
Nothing much had come of it in the end - within the week the few
remaining uninfected people had fled the country. Not that it helped
them much - the MOD Virus was everywhere.
Terry had been incredibly self-conscious when he'd returned to school -
his illness having become too commonplace to leave any point in staying
away.
Jack and his friends had been merciless - sure, they were changing too,
but they were changing along with everybody else. Terry was way ahead of
them, already so far advanced that he looked like an awkward pubescent
girl. His face was covered with acne and his voice was soft and piping
like a female toddler. But, most hilarious of all, the outline of his
training-bra was clearly visible under his top - wrapping tightly around
the jiggling little cones poking from his chest.
Terry was reduced to tears countless times every day. His stick-like
arms tried vainly to shield his developing bosoms from the mocking eyes
that were always following them. Jack loved the girly little squeaks
that he'd give whenever his nipples were tweaked.
Things had reached their peak the day before term break. Terry, who had
graduated to a real bra by now, had suddenly given a little squeak in
class. His hands had flown to his chest, but not before everyone had
seen the little patches of moisture staining his shirt. The teacher had
quickly escorted him from the room, but not before Jack and others had
begun to laugh and jeer Terry about the not-yet-milk leaking from his
breasts. Terry reappeared during gym class later that day, wearing a
different shirt. He'd done pathetically in everything - his skinny
little body now even weaker than it had used to be. He wasn't helped by
the way that his thick hair had kept falling across his face - like all
the other boys, his hair seemed to be growing longer at a surprising
rate.
Jack had grinned at his buddies and they knew what he was planning.
Afterwards in the locker room, as Terry blushed furiously and tried to
keep himself hidden as he changed out of his new sports bra, they had
grabbed him from behind. Easy overcoming his feeble struggling and
little coos of protest, they had tossed him out of the room - minus his
clothes - and locked the door.
They had nearly burst a lung as they'd heard him whimpering and vainly
scratching at the door, begging to be let back in. The hall was full of
students and he'd tried desperately to cover his crotch and the mounds
of jelly wobbling on his chest with his tiny little hands.
Everyone told them later about how unsuccessful he'd been.
Jack had looked forward to running into Terry again after break was
finished.
The boys were all feeling a bit less cocky now that they were all in
training bras - or actual ones - and starting to really show the effects
of the virus. Now all the boys (and men) had little flute-like voices,
soft weak little bodies, and acne breakouts. Even their walks had become
awkward as their hips pushed out.
Jack couldn't wait to see Terry again - he'd look even worse and they
could reassure themselves by mocking him.
He got a surprise. Everyone got a surprise.
Terry was barely recognizable. His strange new puberty had finally
finished. His skin was clear, he had traded in his glasses for contacts,
and his hair fell in long, lustrous waves around his soft face and slid
gracefully down his back.
And his body...
He had curves that any other boy would die for. Those perfect hips and
that big, rounded ass... that tiny little waist... and his chest!
He would have to be a D cup - at least.
He was wearing the sexy new boy's clothes (what had once been girl's
clothes) and they showed him off perfectly.
Jack and co. had stared at him in open-mouthed envy, feeling like
grotesque, shambling monsters by comparison.
They couldn't have that.
They had cornered him and been merciless about his clothes and figure
and - was that make-up?
Terry had been on the verge of tears when a girl had stepped in to
defend him.
She'd towered over Jack, her muscular arms rippling, and in her new,
deeper, voice, had told him to back off. Jack had only barely recognized
her as Tiffany. Like all the other girls, she was now an absolute
Amazon.
At first, Jack had found these changes - the increased height, greater
strength, the deepening of their voices, and their breasts shrinking and
becoming hard and athletic - to be disgusting. But lately, he'd found
them somehow incredibly sexy.
He'd just pouted up at Tiffany, knowing that he was no match for her.
As the two walked off - Tiffany slipping a strong arm around Terry's
delicate shoulders as he looked up at her worshipfully with his big,
moist eyes - Jack had suddenly realized that the girls felt the same
way. He could see their poorly-hidden little glances at Terry's assets
as he wiggled his way past them.
In class, not even old Mrs. Haliker - looking a lot less feeble than
she'd used too - had managed to keep her eyes off the impressive swell
of his chest.
Terry had seemed unaware of it all, and was innocently delighted at how
friendly everyone was suddenly being.
Jack and his posse had spent hours in the mall that afternoon, trying to
find clothes that would show off their newly-blossoming figures. They
finally selected tiny midriff tops, sexy little skirts and big high
heels. Jack was inexpressibly delighted when, on his way home dressed in
his pretty new clothes, he attracted a whistle from a passing car of
girls.
He'd blown them a kiss.
He'd soon learned all of the tricks - wearing a pendant to draw the eye
down to his budding new cleavage, the mincing little steps to take in
heels, getting the sexy little wiggle of his ass just right, and always
letting to the top of his g-string poke up above his skirt.
Examining himself in the bathroom mirror at school, he'd seen a little
slut pouting back. He would never admit it, but that somehow made him
feel really nice...
But, although the boys all got a whole lot more attention from girls in
their carefully skanky little outfits, they were never really as noticed
as Terry. Even after their bodies finished developing - while they were
certainly all gorgeous little boys that any girl would be proud to go
out with - they were never quite in Terry's league.
After Tiffany and Terry broke up - very badly, no-one could have guessed
at what a player Tiffany turned out to be - Sarah and Tiffany had got
into an actual fight about how she had mistreated him.
Terry and Sarah had been friends for a quite awhile, but that got people
talking.
Jack had been furious. He had become a cheerleader mainly so that he
could get closer to the super-buff new football captain. He knew how
sexy he looked poured into his little cheerleader skirt and had all but
thrown himself at Sarah several times.
She was polite, but seemed genuinely uninterested.
Eventually all of the rumours were proven true when Sarah had asked
Terry to go to the prom with her. Terry had been delighted, the
prettiest blushing boy that you could imagine.
And Jack fumed as he had never fumed before.
The limo pulled up and a big, strong girl stepped out. She looked
positively dashing in her tuxedo as she walked around and opened the
door for her date.
People couldn't help but gasp at the sight of him.
His gown was elegant and simple, and somehow seemed to perfectly match
the innocent sweetness that radiated from his beautiful face. His little
high-heeled slippers and the pearls around his delicate throat were as
flawlessly white as the corsage that rode atop the swell of his heaving
bosom.
Jack looked down at him with hate in his eyes, his arms folded tightly
beneath his breasts.
He could barely take his smouldering gaze from Terry the whole evening.
Watching him charm everyone else present with his grace and elegance. He
looked like a fairy-tale prince.
A lot of girls were slapped when their open-mouthed gaze lingered just a
little too long.
But then, as the evening wore on, and Terry proved himself to be as
delightful on the dancefloor as he was anywhere else, Jack felt that
feeling of gleeful malice returning.
All of this would just make Terry's eventual humiliation worse.
Dancing with Bethany but with his mind elsewhere, Jack's face was spread
with the most slyly cruel look imaginable.
It was all planned out.
He had first heard about the tape as a rumour from some dumb jock during
an after-game party. Using all of his masculine wiles, he had been able
to first confirm the tape's existence, and then, several major sexual
favours later, obtain a copy.
It was wonderful!
It turns out that Mr. So-Very-Perfect had slept with Tiffany while they
were dating - and, almost too good to be true - Tiffany, being the
bastard that she turned out to be, had secretly taped the whole thing!
Jack had watched it one evening, his hilarity and sense of dark triumph
building.
It was obviously Terry's first time. He had been incredibly nervous and
only Tiffany's blatantly insincere words had convinced him to go through
with it.
What a little bimbo!
As Tiffany had climbed on top of him, he had gasped and quailed and
tried to tell her to stop, but she had ridden him like a true expert and
soon enough his cute little squeals and moans of pleasure had filled the
room.
Jack had laughed himself silly.
So that was why Sarah and Tiffany had gotten into that fight - Tiffany
had taken her little darling's innocence and then dumped him like a
rock.
It was all just too good!
Jack had enjoyed himself and now he wanted to share his joy with the
world.
He knew that the hall the prom was going to be held in had a video
projector built into the roof. He also knew that Cathy had used it in
the past.
Cathy had once held his position as head of the cheer squad and general
'queen bee'. But since the MOD Virus, her scrawniness had become a lot
less attractive.
These days, boys avoided her, except on pity.
Sliding into his sluttiest underwear and pulling on his cheerleader
outfit, Jack had sashayed off to pay Cathy a visit. Giggling, tossing
his long hair, and leaning forward to give her a good look down his
cleavage, he had promised to perform the most degrading sexual acts
imaginable if she would just do him one teeny, tiny little favour. He'd
watched her stunned glance race between his fluttering eyelashes and the
boobs that he was almost rubbing in her face, and when she'd
involuntarily licked her lips he'd known that he had her hooked.
She'd agreed to play the tape for the whole school the second that Terry
was announced Prom King.
She'd demanded an 'advance' and he had no choice but to go along with
it. Not that he minded - he was never too fussy about who he spread his
legs for.
Jack chuckled as the music stopped and the crowning of the King and
Queen of the Prom was about to be announced.
He could just see the looks on people's faces when they heard that
little tramp's moans and squeals. He glanced quickly up to the little
projection booth.
True to her word, Cathy was waiting up there.
He smiled. Dumb ugly girls! They'd do anything for him.
The girl who was MCing picked up the envelope containing the lucky
couple's names.
Jack grinned. He hoped that Terry had enjoyed his moment of popularity,
because he was just about to become the school joke again.
He'd never be able to show his face in class!
"And, the crowned couple - Queen and King of this year's Prom - is..."
Jack grinned cruelly.
"Bethany Allan and Jack Van Horn!"
Jack paused for a second. Had he heard that right?
People began to turn towards them, smiling and congratulating him. He
looked up into Bethany's beaming face.
As he walked to the stage, he felt like he was in a dream.
He had won!
He suddenly turned and glared at the projection booth. That nerd wasn't
going to ruin this moment for him! Cathy smiled and clapped down at him.
He still glared but less ferociously - she seemed to understand.
Never mind, there would be many other occasions to ruin Terry.
Jack felt tears welling in his eyes as he was crowned and handed a
bouquet. All those people cheering for him! He felt so pretty!
He was so pretty!
He sneered down at Terry and Sarah - they were clapping along happily
with everyone else. Their lack of obvious disappointment stung Jack
deeply.
They were just hiding it, he thought. Really they were crushed.
They weren't real pretty like he was!
They weren't...
"I'm a fucking slutty little whore who just wants to be fucked!" a cute
little voice cried out breathily.
Jack gasped and looked around for the source of the voice.
It sounded just like...
No! It couldn't...
"Are you, bitch?" another voice, deep and mocking, answered.
"Yes! Yes! I'm a dirty, dirty, bad, bad, little boy!" The original voice
continued. "Spank me! Spank me! I've been real bad! Tell me I'm a dirty
boy who's been bad!"
Jack's mouth fell open with his gasp of horror.
He spun and saw, towering on a screen high above him...
Himself. On all fours. On a bed.
He was thrusting his big ass high in the air, letting it protrude from
beneath the tiny little skirt that was the only thing he was wearing. He
wiggled it sexily for a second, pouting back at the girl standing behind
him.
"Naughty little dirty tramp!" Sandy shouted derisively, as she swung her
hand down and slapped the boy hard across his vast rump. "Fucking
Whore!"
Sandy couldn't see the look of pure joy that crumpled Jack's face.
"Harder! Harder!" he squeaked. "I'm a skanky little bitch! A bad, bad,
boy who likes to get fucked hard by everyone!" he squealed.
Jack finally managed to tear his eyes away and stared, aghast, into the
crowd of faces, all frozen with disbelief.
His gaze raced up to the projection booth. Cathy smiled and winked at
him. Some of Sarah's football buddies suddenly stepped in behind her,
grinning widely.
Jack looked down at where Sandy and Bill stood, gaping up at the screen.
"Smack me! Smack me on my big slutty ass! I've been ever such a bad
boy!"
Bill finally managed to glance over at Sandy, and, face crumpling, ran
from the room in tears. Garry went after him, turning back to give Jack
a look of burning contempt.
"Mmmm.... Mmmm..... Yummy!.... HARDER!" Jack's voice shrieked. His eyes
were almost rolled back into his head with ecstasy as his big buttocks
bounced under the impact of Sandy's hands.
Jack looked around helplessly, foaming at the mouth with horror.
Sandy had been filming that?
Fucking girls!
By now the initial shock had worn off and people turned to run to the
projection booth.
Larger than life, Jack moaned orgasmically and massaged his tits as they
swayed beneath him. Then he suddenly rolled over and leapt off the bed,
straddling Sandy with his long legs, his sexy high heels meeting in the
small of her back. "Fuck me! Fuck me!" he squealed as he rubbed himself
against her, out of his mind with desire.
Sandy smiled sarcastically down at the little boy. "Whatever you say,
you slutty little fuck-whore."
Jack moaned at the abuse and then again, louder, as his little skirt was
lifted and the two were locked together.
"Tell me I'm a dirty, dirty boy!" he squealed shrilly.
"You certainly are!" Sandy shouted, spinning him until his back was hard
against the wall and thrusting roughly against him.
"WHORE! FUCKING, FUCKING WHORE!" Jack cried, his face arched towards the
ceiling. "I'M A DIRTY, DIRTY, FUCKING, FUCKING SLUT!" he screamed in
full-lunged ecstasy, squeezing vigorously at his own violently bouncing
boobs as he was fucked hard. Sandy's hands wandered down and lifted the
back of his skirt as she grabbed roughly at his big, jiggling buttocks.
The camera was perfectly placed to capture Jack's face as his final
shriek of "WHORE!" tailed off into a screech of pure pleasure.
Despite himself, Jack felt almost turned on as he watched himself
scream, face twisted. He'd secretly always gotten off on acting like a
total slut and this was beyond anything that he'd even imagined.
Suddenly the shriek ended and the screen went blank as someone finally
managed to make it into the projection booth. Jack could see her looking
around, but Cathy and the others were obviously long gone.
The shocked silence lingered.
"Oh, I'm sorry" the girl MCing finally said, pretending to double-check
her cards. "You're not Prom King... you're a dirty, dirty whore."
At that the crowd began to laugh, first stunned, but then loudly and
enthusiastically.
Jack felt the crown and the bouquet being pulled off him and just gazed
for a moment, unmoving, at the sea of disgusted, mocking faces.
"No! No!" he squealed for a moment, vainly.
Lifting his skirts with his hands, he tried to run for the stage exit,
taking mincing little steps in his stilettos. Bethany blocked his way.
She looked coldly contemptuous.
Mewling, he turned and leapt from the stage, his dress billowing as he
fell, and ran, hands over his ears, through the crowd of people. Their
hilarity was almost deafening.
"Dirty boy! Dirty! Dirty Whore!" some people mimicked as he pushed madly
past them.
When he was long gone and the laughter had finally begun to subside, the
MC spoke again. "I'm sorry", she said with a wink. "I must have misread
the card."
Another chuckle went up.
"The real Queen and King of the Prom are..."
Even before she had finished reading everyone turned, applauding,
towards Sarah and Terry.
Later, as they were crowned, everyone agreed that they were the most
perfect couple that any of them had ever seen.
Latisha
- 19.08.2021
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