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Black Friday By Jena Corso Edited By Angela Myers Part 3 "Rise and shine, Marquita," said Mable, giving him a little shake. "Come back later," said Marc, barely cracking his eyes open. "Shush, and don't wake Shaquille." Mable shook him again. "You definitely don't want him cranky, as it looks like you two had a nice night." "Oh shit!" said Marc, looking over and seeing how he slept ,being cuddled in Shaquille's arms. He ever so carefully lifted Shaquille's massive hand from around his neck and then slowly sat up. He couldn't believe his head was resting on the naked man's chest, feeling the soreness everywhere throughout his body as he climbed out of bed. "This will help take away some of those aches," said Mable, holding open a black silk robe and handing him some pills and water after he slipped it on. "Let's get you into the shower. You've got a busy day ahead." Marc felt like he was hit by a truck, quickly swallowing the pills and limping as he followed Mable down the hall. He was happy seeing the large shower from yesterday and stepped in as she slipped his mane under a shower cap and put on her gloves, scrubbing every inch of him. She was gentle as she washed his pubic area and ever so carefully slid his pubes back through the mesh g-string as the soap and water eased the hair tugging. "I have to pee, Mable," said Marc as she towelled him off. "I'll give you a second, dear," said Mable as she turned her back. "Just be like a proper lady, please." Marc knew what she meant, sitting on the bowl as he peed like a race horse as she just waited. She turned the moment he flushed, smiling as she squirted some soap in his hands and he rinsed them. "Ok, let's get you ready for your morning chores, and then you'll be about to take a nice afternoon nap, Marquita." Mable held open a white silk robe. "Trust me, I'm exhausted as well. I need one too!" Marc rolled his eyes, annoyed she'd even try to compare after the night he had. She pushed out a stool and he sat without saying a word with his back to the vanity, as she proceeded to contour his face. He was pooped, putting up little fight as she set his big false lashes and worked on his shadows. She took a series of flat clips now and pulled off his shower cap before twisting his hair over and over in small sections as she pinned it. "Try not to fidget, please," said Mable as he was twitching a little as she worked quickly. "I want to preserve the curls as best we can for later." Finally, she took what looked like a little stocking and stretched it over his hair, then took a few small bobby pins, sliding them in. He watched as she opened what looked like a small roll of clear tape and snipped some little section before peeling back on side of the tape and pressing them on his forehead. She took the next, adhering it near the nape of his neck, followed by the front and behind his ears as he was confused at her intention. She took her hairdryer now, circling him for a few seconds and then returned her attention, lining his lips with her pencil. She filled in the middle with her tube and then brushed on some gloss as he couldn't believe he'd be working already. "OK, let's get you dressed and we should be on schedule." Mable took him to the other side of the bathroom. He followed as she wasted no time corseting his waist as she slipped his arms through the shoulder straps and positioned his attached boobs. She spun him, buckling the back and lifted his legs, sliding up thigh high fish nets on each side before pushing him inside his matching gaff. She was quick, snapping the four garters and quickly dropped some pointy black patent pumps near his feet. He stepped in, realizing the three inch heel was nothing after last night, and turned as she inspected her work. "Turn and lean forward, holding the towel rack while I suck you in a little please," Demanded Mable, giving him a little shove forward. "Mable, I thought he was asleep," said Marc, gasping a bit as she tugged the laces. "He really can't be ready for me already!" "Breathe in as far as you can, and don't move until I tell you," said Mable, tugging. "He's not awake yet, but I've been tasked to have you ready for your chores. Now shut up and let me finish, or we'll both be in trouble if you're late getting started." She sat him back down now, pushing his neck forward a bit as she pulled off the other side of the plastic on the double sided tape. He wasn't expecting the tug at the back of his neck as he felt her grasp it and then stretch the lace over his head. As she came around in front of him, she tugged near each ear and then quickly pushed it away from his face. "All that work putting in extensions, so why did you just put a wig on me?" Asked Marc as she pressed at the edges and took her comb, picking at it before trimming away some lace. "This doesn't makes any sense." "Your job is to perform, honey!" Replied Mable, giggling as she got his outfit. "Not judge. Derek got you some extra work for Shaquille today, so that'll be your first assignment of the day. We're just doing something a little different, as I can't have you resembling anything like you did last night, or even tonight." "I'm so confused, so there's no sex involved with this?" Marc asked, feeling some relief seeing her zip it open. "I'm working here today?" "I'm not privy to that, Marquita!" Mable held it out as he stepped into it. "I just do whatever I'm told." "Great?" Marc said sarcastically as she zipped him up. "Report to the ball room down the hall, and they'll have your instructions there," said Mable, brushing a little at his wig and clipping something on top. "See you later, as I really need some more sleep." Marc gave her a look, rolling his eyes as she turned and opened the door leading him out. He stopped and glanced at his image, amazed at how different he looked in his new outfit. Gone was the eerie image ingrained in his mind of himself naked, ready to be ravished , only to be oddly replaced by that of a shapely servant. He was now in a classic black satin French maid's uniform, complete with a white lace apron across the front of the skirt and matching lace choker around his neck. He realized quickly why she had corseted his mid- section, as the narrow waistline made him look incredibly shapely with his massive cleavage fully on display on top, and the multiple layers of white crinoline ruffling out the skirt. His makeup was certainly more subdued than ever before, looking more natural with brown and beige shadows, and his lips were a soft matte tangerine color, over-lined in a dark brown. On his head was a short jet black wig with a two inch caramel streak on the front, framing each side of the part and a matching caramel inverted layer base at the nape of his neck. It was parted on the left and extremely short on that side, almost like a fringe boy cut, fully showing his ear and on the right side hung down just past his chin in front, before it tapered dramatically towards the back, where it was arranged in a series of inverted tight layers. On top of his wig sat a little black and white lace headpiece, which perfectly matched the outfit, and from the bottom hole in each ear hung a black onyx teardrop earring, which were a nice size but not big enough to cover the large hickey on his neck. "Today, please," said Mable, annoyed he was still staring. He broke his gaze, heading down the hall and seeing the butler awaiting him with his arms folded. "Good help is so hard to find," said the butler, giving him a dirty look and handing him a list. "Please get busy, Miss Rosario. I'll return in precisely two hours, and I expect you'll be finished." He looked down, realizing this was not sexual, reading the long list of chores and seeing the push cart of supplies just inside the room. He entered the large room, seeing some muscular young men arranging tables and tried to avoid eye contact as he began dusting all the cabinetry. There was no conversation as he vacuumed, while they set the chairs at each table and he tried keeping up as they moved throughout the room, placing each table cloth to cover the bare wood. When they finished, they placed all the chairs they stacked , the dishes and supplies on each table before exiting, leaving him to follow his instructions. He read them carefully, placing the floral centerpieces, arranging the fine silverware and placing the settings on the twenty tables as they were set up. "It's no time for a rest, Miss Rosario," said the butler, startling him as he was about to take a break for a moment, as he finally finished. "The boss has awakened, and you'll need to bring him his breakfast before it gets cold and he gets cranky." "Figures!" sighed Marc, shrugging his shoulders taking the large silver platter from the butler. Marc headed down the hall, knocking softly and entering as he carried in the tray. "Breakfast is served, Shaquille," said Marc, placing it down on the nightstand next to the bed. "You new, honey?" Asked Shaquille as Marc was opening the top. "I don't remember hiring any--. What a minute... Marquita you little tease! I barely recognized you in that outfit! Oh, sit down baby!" "Good morning," said Marc, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're still looking fine, even without the weave, and well ,with some clothes on," Shaquille smiled "Get me that little snack table and let me make sure you get a little something this morning, too." "Thanks, I'm pretty hungry. I've been cleaning and doing chores for a few hours already," said Marc, opening a small table and turning to place it over Shaquille's lap. "All my hair's under this wig, and well , I ... Holy shit." "Go ahead baby! You have some sausage while I have my eggs!" said Shaquille, grabbing his wrist as he put the table over his lap, stunning Marc as he now caught what he meant. "You earned it doing your chores, baby." "I don't think I can," Marc panicked as Shaquille placed his hand right on his morning hard on. "I'm cleaning and setting tables and.." "Of course you can," said Shaquille, squeezing his wrist. "I make the rules and there's plenty of time for you to do everything I need done before tonight. I expected us to spend some time together today, but consider this a morning bonus for you." Shaquille wiggled down the covers as Marc was looking face down on his immense cock. He glanced at Shaquille, sliding some eggs down his throat with his right hand as his left wasted little time pushing down on his neck. He began slowly sucking and bobbing, trying to block out the fact only a few hours ago during the night this thing was ramming his behind, and now it was in his mouth. He struggled, going very deep on him as he moved slowly as Shaquille controlled the pace, allowing himself to eat and sip some juice using Marc like a sex toy. When he finally finished his breakfast, he grabbed firmly on Marc's neck, forcing him deeper and picking up the pace. He moaned, almost breaking Marc's neck from his strength as he jammed himself as far down as he could, as Marc was convulsing as he exploded everywhere, streaming from his mouth. "That's a good start to the day," said Shaquille, taking the morning paper from the tray. "Clean every drop from me and then I'll allow you to clean the dishes and prepare for the rest of your chores. You're off to a good start with me, Marquita." He fanned open the news paper as Marc was ready to vomit, licking all the drippings from his balls and thighs. When he finished, he got up taking the trays and wiped his own face with a napkin, as Shaquille gave nothing but a few glances of approval, continuing to read his paper. "I'll take those, Marquita," said the butler, awaiting him as he left the room as he handed him his next instruction sheet. "Begin at the far end of the hall where I have left your supply cart, and work your way down one bath at a time." Marc looked at the note and trotted down the hall, annoyed as he now found himself cleaning the first bathroom. It was peaceful and better than servicing like he was previously, as he spent the next two hours on the house's eight bathrooms. "Acceptable," said the butler, wiping a vanity with his white glove. "Return to your bedroom and meet Mable there to change. After your next task, you'll be given ample time to rest up for this evening." "Change?" Asked Marc, on his knees scrubbing the bowl. "Another task? Are you kidding?" "I'm just the messenger, Miss Rosario," The butler gave him a stern look. "But if you like to question your chores and you'd like to continue on your hands and knees, I'll inform our boss of your wishes." Marc practically jumped to his pumps, pulling off his rubber gloves and placing his cleaning supplies back on the cart. He headed back to his room, seeing Mable awaiting him with her feet up on the couch as he entered. "Looks like you're adapting well, Marquita," said Mable, spinning him around and unzipping his uniform. "I know you'd like me to say yes to that, but the thought of it is just making me sick to my stomach," said Marc as he stepped out of his dress. She unsnapped his garters and helped him off with his hose before she sat him down, taking a wipe to his lips. "Doesn't matter to me, honey," said Mable, undoing his corset. "I get paid either way. I just figured it was better for you to get out of debt, and I know Shaquille pays well." "True, but I'm ready to pass out from exhaustion and lack of food," Marc replied, feeling some relief as he slipped out of the corset and gaff. "Here, eat this," said Mable, handing him a protein bar and holding out a white gaff he stepped into. "Nothing starts here until later anyway, so I'm sure he'll let you get some rest. Now sit." He felt the tension as he chewed on the bar, as she now ever so carefully pulled at each tape tab on his wig, sliding it off. It was weird seeing her toss it on the bed and she knelt in front of him now, taking some white boots from a box. None of this was ever good, as quickly they were placed over his bare, slightly sweaty feet as he watched the zipper glide up each calf, as the instant he was done chewing she was quickly lining his lips. He knew the drill too well as she filled in the color at the center and then walked behind him as he felt her adjust his head, feeling the tension as she carefully fitted the new wig. "Now step in and you'll be ready," Mable ordered, coming back out in front and stretching open his outfit. As Marc stood up, Mable held out a white outfit and he stepped into it. She guided it up, sliding his arms through the short sleeves and instantly felt the restriction of his tightest outfit yet as she zipped him up. "What the fuck is this about?" whined Marc, looking down. "I feel like if I move, this thing will rip." "Miss Rosario, everything you need to prepare the bath awaits you in his master bath," said the butler, coming in now. "Is she ready to return from break now, Mable?" "She's on her way," said Mable, tugging at the back of his wig. "Good. He'll be pleased," said the butler. "He always enjoys when his lady friends treat him to a nice sponge bath. Make the water luke warm, and don't skimp on the bubbles, my dear." Marc took his first step, only able to take small steps in the ultra- tight vinyl dress. He could see himself in the bedroom mirror, realizing he was dressed to resemble a naughty nurse, in a form fitting white vinyl short sleeve dress, which ended just above his knees, and on his feet were knee length matching white vinyl boots, which had a 4 inch spiky heel. The new wig on his head was a far cry from anything previous, and it was almost as stunning seeing the little white nurse's hat which sat atop his head, acting like a barrette to hold the intricate series of beaded micro braids off his face as they flowed down each shoulder and back. He could barely move in this unforgiving fitted dress as he made his way slowly down the hall. He headed into the master bath, almost unable to bend over to turn on the faucet. As the tub filled, he poured in the bubbles before looking over his shoulders, seeing Shaquille in his bathrobe. He gave his best fake smile, helping him off with it as he stepped into the tub, as he knelt performing his duties as he began ever so gently sponging his body. It was better than having to take him orally, as Marc slaved over him scrubbing every crack, every crevice, and every inch of his body as he lay there enjoying the touch and cleansing. This went on for a good thirty minutes, as Shaquille turned and twisted, relaxing in the tub with his eyes closed, allowing Marc to sponge him in every direction until finally he stretched and looked over at Marc. "You're very domesticated I see, Marquita," said Shaquille, lifting his chin and pausing him from his sponging. "Who knew you'd be so good at so much, so fast." "I try my best, Shaquille," Marc answered, knowing what was coming as Shaquille leaned in, kissing him. "I know you're in a tough spot, baby," said Shaquille as he paused to speak. "But you're coming along to my liking more and more, with each passing hour. Not that you didn't meet my expectations when I first saw you, but I like where you're going with this." "Going? I'm not sure what you mean," said Marc nervously. "I wasn't really going anywhere with anything." "Well right now, you're not," said Shaquille stunning him as he pulled him into the tub. Marc screamed like a little bitch, startled as he found himself being manhandled by Shaquille and underwater for a moment before sitting across his lap, on top of him in the big tub. Shaquille wasted no time ramming his tongue into his mouth again as he loved deep french kissing and then pushed him back, giving a huge belly laugh as Marc was covered in thick bubbles, catching his breath. "Come on!" sighed Marc, stunned and soaked before playfully splashing Shaquille, shaking his head as he watched all the soap fly from his hair like a dog. "Don't be a party pooper, gorgeous. Sorry if I ruined your hair, but that's why it's good if it's interchangeable sometimes," Teased Shaquille, still laughing pretty hard. "I wouldn't mess with Mable after she does all that hard work doing it up, baby." "I not so sure about that." Marc struggled to move around in the tight outfit. "I need you to keep an open mind and stay flexible like you've been since I met you," said Shaquille, suddenly getting serious. "Understand me, girl?" "I think so. It's just I know what a mermaid feels like now," Joked Marc as he found himself sitting on Shaquille's lap with his soaked boots hanging over the edge dripping onto the floor. "Ok, let me get up and I'll clean all this up while you enjoy your time. After that, you've got to let me get some sleep if you expect anything out of me tonight." "Oh you've been working so hard my dear, so I'll do all the work for now," Replied Shaquille, taking his massive hands and ripping the bottom of the dress open. "Easy, big guy," Marc yelped as Shaquille lifted Marc like he was a little rag doll with one hand into the air. "Now let's test what I just said about being flexible, but you'll also have to open more than your mind." Shaquille repositioned him as he swung Marc's legs wide open at each side of the tub. The moment his ankles hit the sides of the tub, gravity and his own body weight instantly worked against him as he let out a colossal scream, having been lowered right onto Shaquille's massive erection. Quickly he grasped the sides of the tub when his elbows hit the porcelain, but it was already way too late as the initial depth of the penetration and lack of lubricant caused his muscles to contract. "This position takes some getting used to, Marquita," said Shaquille, grabbing his thighs to prevent him from pulling up. "Now clear your mind and enjoy this while you can, because when it's over you'll have quite the mess to clean up." Marc could see what he meant, holding tight to the sides of the tub, as with each thrust water was splashing all over the floor. It was completely nauseating seeing his body leaning back across from Shaquille, as for the first time he could clearly see the expressions on his face staring back at him as he enjoying each thrust. He was grinding his teeth and biting his lip, moaning, trying to not look straight ahead as Shaquille was hammering him repeatedly as he hung on like he was about to be thrown from a bull. It was getting faster as his tiny braids were flying everywhere now, causing the beads to wallop him in his own face until finally Shaquille lifted him fully from the remaining water after exploding in his buttocks. He was panting heavily as he pulled out, stepping out of the tub before leaning in French kissing him. "You've earned some rest, Marquita." Shaquille wiped himself with a towel. "Clean up all this crap and enjoy a nap. I'm looking forward to tonight." Marc could barely move, lying there in the tub for a good ten minutes. He felt himself almost dozing off as Mable interrupted ,snapping her fingers. "Get your ass out of there and mop this all up," said Mable, pulling off one of his soaked boots. "I'll go get you something to sleep in." Marc flopped out of the tub and pulled off his other boot. He was exhausted, wiping the floor in his soaked vinyl dress. Mable returned with one of Shaquille's t-shirts and helped him peel off his soaked dress. It was a relief as she pulled off the soapy wig and then he changed into the t-shirt, which was actually past his knees. They loaded a cart with all the wet towels, and he followed her down the hall, asleep in no time in the guest room. "Mable." Marc woke up in a pitch black room. "Hello, Mable are you there? Holy shit!" "You ok!" Mable asked as she came in, finding Marc on the floor. "What the fuck!" Marc felt his head as she helped him up and turned on some lights. "I guess so." "Well at least you had a nice rest," said Mable. "I was going to wake you in ten minutes anyway, so I'm glad you're up. It's time to start getting ready for tonight!" "I wasn't sleeping here all day was I?" Marc asked, realizing he was naked. "What happened to my shirt? Where am I?" "Yes, you did a little more browning while you were out," said Mable. "You look good with some color, and the sleeping pills I gave you let you sleep through everything. You needed the rest, Marquita, and honestly you're easier to work with asleep!" "I know I did, but damn," Marc replied as he reached out his arm and looked down at his legs, realizing how much darker he was as his eyes were adjusting to the light. He spread his legs, feeling the little tension as he almost instantly knew the feeling of the mesh thong, as his pubic hair poked out, arranged in their perfect triangular landing strip, realizing it had that same caramel coloring as his hair did. He glanced down at his chest, and could see how well she had already blended his big boobs, only this time they were considerably darker, but now also featured distinct protruding nipples. "Sit in that chair and we'll go get you ready for work," Mable told him, placing a white towel over the chair and wrapping her long cape over him. "Clients are already arriving, so you'll jump right in there as soon as I finish you up." Marc knew the complete drill now, as he sat there barely fussing as she worked on his makeup. She didn't seem to be doing as much work as she normally did, working a lot at his cheeks and lids before working with her liquid liner and coating his lashes several times. "Easy, that stung," muttered Marc as he reached up and she stopped his hand. "I think they're so badly chapped from being stretched and abused!" "It's just sensitive, Marquita," said Mable, working on his lips. "I just plumped them up not that long ago while you slept. They look incredible. Now's let's get to that hair." "That was like the fastest you ever did my face," said Marc, waking up as she spritzed him with some perfume, awakening his nasal passage. "It's easy when I do your foundation, and a few other things while you're sleeping," said Mable with a grin. "Now this should be more challenging sweetie, but at least I got off all the wig strips while you were in la la land!" She pulled the series of flat clips now, releasing his twisted sections before practically making him jump from his seat as she took a plastic brush, combing through some of his locks. "Sorry, I have to break the bond, and you had a lot of hairspray in there, Marquita," said Mable as he continued cringing. "Sorry, but you're getting a lesson on kinky hair fast. If it's decided you're going to wear wigs a lot, then maybe I'll pixie your pretty ass, and Derek can invest in some more lace front stuff." "Decided by who?" said Marc. "I just have to get through all this temporary crap. Aren't you deciding my look?" "True, but Derek does have a say here, honey!" mumbled Mable with a mouth full of light colored pins, spraying over and over as she worked with her pick. "I'm just the hired help, Marquita. He pays the bills." Mable worked near his left ear now, picking and twisting over and over as he sat there feeling the occasional pin slide tightly against his scalp. It was annoying and seemed extremely tight, pulling at his skin as she used her fingers and a series of fine combs, not worrying about if she was tugging too hard. When she finished, she seemed to be repeating this on the other side as he felt the constant pressure at both temples as she stepped back, nodding as she checked her work. In her hand now was a small spray bottle, a pick and a double sided comb as she released a clip directly between his eyes. She stretched and picked at it as he could feel the tackiness in front as she pulled and inserted a few pins. She worked her way towards the back of his head as she seemed to be working forever down the middle of his head, spraying and teasing before finally going behind him. It seemed to be an extremely slow process, as he would twinge a little every once in a while, feeling a pinch as the occasional stray got plucked as she separated tight little sections. In the back now, she was trimming as she stretched his hair before finally she clipped the diffuser to her dryer, setting his head as she sprayed it and patted it with her palm. "I can't wait to dress you!" squealed Mable, kneeling as he felt her slip his feet into his shoes. "Let's do it, Marquita." Marc stood up so used to being in heels now, as she pulled the cape from his neck and left the room for a moment. She came right back, approaching with a white dress over her forearm and then knelt as she held it open for him to step into. It was nothing like any other tight dress he was in before, as he looked down seeing it almost touch the floor and it felt so loose as she raised it up before securing it around his neck. "This is it?" cried Marc as she was changing his earrings as he quickly felt the heavy weight. "Almost," said Mable, sliding about twenty thin gold bangles over his right wrist before wrapping something over his left bicep. "Why, did you think you'd be in a parka?" "Great?" Moaned Marc, looking down at himself, seeing his entire right leg exposed in his gold, strappy five inch platform stiletto. "I was almost more covered up in the bedroom!" He pulled in his chin even further now, and looking straight down was able to see his exposed skin all the way past his naval between his beasts, which were partially covered by two long silk sections. He slid his finger right down his stomach, realizing this was the ultimate plunging neckline. Stunned at how the dress had a low-cut neck that extended several inches below his now pierced navel, stopping only at his waist. "Yeah, but that was completely see through, girlfriend! Now get to work, because I'd be shocked if Shaquille or the boyzzz didn't approve. Now get that sexy ass out there, honey!" said Mable as she gave a playful slap on his ass. "I think you're looking exotic in a halter dress, so I would think this should be a good night for Marquita." He knew she was right, that he wasn't going to be missed in this dress, as he strutted from the room, immediately seeing his full image now in his floor length, white silk gown in the hallway mirror. As he approached, he realized it was almost like having a long thin sheet in front and another in back, attached only at his waist, as his legs completely poked out on both sides as the side slits ran from the floor all the way to his belt. He stopped for a moment, almost stunned, realizing he appeared to be in no underwear as his hip bone poked out where the sides of his dress where his panties would be when he shifted his weight. He knew he was in the mesh gaff though, perfectly hidden were the thin elastic strings of the mesh thong that held all his manly junk hidden away. From above his waist, two single long silk sections flowed straight up, covering most of his large boobs before neatly being twisted behind his neck in a bow, giving the dress the exotic halter look. He lifted his right wrist, hearing the dozens of thin bracelets clang as he touched one of his boobs, amazed at how the halter never moved, realizing there was hidden double tape. It was also quite convincing, even though he knew they were synthetic, seeing the nipples stand out prominently under the silk on each side, and he felt constricted by the odd feeling, uncomfortable gold snake like bicep bracelet wrapped around the muscle on his upper left arm. "This is so out of control," Marc thought to himself, as his eyes widened, getting right up to the mirror now and out of the dim light to a brightly lit area. "I'm so fucked in this." Was it the white dress or how much tanning had they been doing to him he thought to himself, as his entire body was visibly so much darker? He stared at himself in disbelief that Mable could continue to transform him in so many ways, to no doubt mess with his ethnicity. As he moved his head, it was crazy to see how all of his hair swayed and jiggled as he moved, yet ending up right back to where it began in this new unbelievable style. Gone were the tight perm-like curls, only to be replaced with even smaller kinkier ones, arranged in a hairdo he had never seen on a white girl. From the outside of each temple down, spanning six inches towards his ear on both sides, 4 tight cornrow braids weaved tightly, exposing his scalp on each side between the braid rows. The rest of his still caramel colored hair had been artfully arranged with concealed pins and teased dramatically a good five inches above his scalp into a towering Mohawk of kinky Jerri-curls that ran from his forehead to his crown, before exploding into a kinky afro behind his ears and across the back of his head. As he twisted a touch to see the back views, he noticed how the bow of the halter top was the only thing on his back, as his entire spine was exposed above his waistline and his hair had been trimmed and shaped to keep it barely scraping his shoulders, as it seemed as wide as it was long. With his ears exposed from his 'fro', his three layers of gold hollow Door Knocker earrings really added to his statement look, especially the huge heavy triangular door knockers stretching the bottom holes. He was guessing he had on more than one set of fake lashes, as they really popped off his face, being both long and thick, curling almost past his thin brows. His eye shadows were dark, blending beautifully with the exception of the gold glitter at each outer crease, and the thin gold precision track of eyeliner running across his upper lids, which drew some focus. His cheeks were a dark apple rose color, really defining his cheek bones but what really popped off his face were his lips, looking so immense and luscious. They were extremely plumped up in a corvette red, satin gloss before fading to almost peach colored center, and had a thick dark cranberry liner over-outlining them, making them look ever so inviting. He took a deep breath, ready to get to work, only to be stunned even further as he quickly widened his mouth, seeing the two gold teeth fronting a few of his own. He touched one of them, realizing they were glued in place, noticing how red his long nails were now, then heard his name being called. "Miss Rosaro," said the butler, handing him a small white purse which had a gold rope chain strap. "I didn't realize you weren't downstairs yet. Mable said you forgot this." "Oh, I was just going down," said Marc as he broke from his gaze. "Yes of course, madam," said the butler, turning away after he handed it to him, before turning and mumbling to himself. "Going down many times I'm sure." Rolling his eyes as he overheard, Marc threw the strap of the purse over his shoulder and began heading down the hallway. As he entered the grand foyer, he looked down, seeing the crowed party and slowly began heading down the long circular staircase. He could see all the wandering eyes checking him out as he descended into the party, taking a glass of Crystals as he reached the bottom. He noticed Shaquille smiling and waving him over as he had little option, returning the greeting with a small closed lip smile and a dainty wave as he headed that way. "Marqqqquitttaaa," sighed Shaquille, taking his hand as soon as he came over. "Umm, Umm, Yumm girl!" "Thank you and good evening, Shaquille," said Marc as Shaquille immediately kissed his wrist, then up his arm and softly against his lips. "You are looking so fine tonight, my lady," said Shaquille, kissing him again as he slid his huge finger ever softly down his bare skin between his breasts. "Damnnnn!" "I guess you haven't had enough of the lovely Marquita then, Shaquille?" Asked Derek, coming over and interrupting. "She's the bomb, Derek," answered Shaquille, placing his arm around Marc. "But you knew that shit when you roped me in, didn't you?" "One can never tell, my old friend," Derek grinned as he stared at Marc. "She certainly continues to rise above expectations. But as you can imagine, she's very motivated to please." "Oh, that she is," said Shaquille, nodding. "And I'm very pleased so far." "I see that," said Derek. "You know I aim to please my clients, and I know how easily bored you get, so I hope Mable's been able to give you the variety you crave. A little milk, and of course some chocolate." "Oh that she has, and I'm really digging the chocolate this evening," said Shaquille, sliding his hand down Marc's bare spine ever so slowly. "Tonight she's outdone herself, but you know me too well, my friend. You know how I love these surprises." "Let's just say I'm always full of pleasant surprises," said Derek, smiling as he looked at Marc. "Let me introduce you to my date tonight, Shaquille. Honey, come on over." Derek turned, calling out as Marc's jaw dropped as Derek stepped aside, seeing his wife coming their way in a sexy evening gown. "Shaquille, how wonderful to finally meet you!" said Lisa, extending her hand and kissing his cheek. "I'm Lisa." "I see you've really upgraded, Derek," teased Shaquille, as Marc stood there frozen. "Oh, and my manners. This is Marquita." " Marquita, don't you look just amazing this evening," said Lisa, grinning from ear to ear. "I've heard so much about you dear." "Is that so?" said Marc, ready to explode as he watched Lisa cuddle up tight with Derek, as his arm went around her waist and their fingers weaved together, holding hands near her midsection. "Yes, of course," said Lisa, as he watched her eyes wander as he felt Shaquille's hands slide down his back and rub his ass. "You two seem to make a wonderful couple." "They do, right?" Derek observed. "That's some dress Marquita. How about you get me one like that, baby?" said Lisa, turning and giving Derek a quick kiss before looking back at Marc with a sly grin. "Although I may not fill it out like she does, but I doubt it would be on that long anyway." "She's a firecracker I see you've got there, Derek," chuckled Shaquille, as Marc was steaming yet trying to keep his composure as Shaquille gave a little squeeze type hug across his back. "But I've got one here too." "Oh, it certainly seems that way," said Lisa, giving a little phony smile. "So I hope you boys wouldn't mind excusing me for a minute as I need to use the powder room. Marquita, would you like to join me to freshen up? I'm sure keeping that gorgeous hair you've got in check, takes some work." Lisa gave Derek a big kiss as Shaquille leaned in, doing the same. Marc was mortified, receiving the short wet kiss and a quick little tongue as Lisa was about to wet her pants, seeing the disgust on his face. Marc was ready to explode as they headed into the ladies room together. Lisa dropped her purse on the vanity and took out her lipstick to repair her smudge from kissing. "Lisa, what the fuck is this about?" screamed Marc. "This is bullshit. Why would you cheat on me, and of all people with Derek?" "Cheat? Funny that you're making statements about cheating," said Lisa very matter of factly, while fixing her lips in the mirror. "What exactly are you doing then?" "You know what I'm doing!" screamed Marc. "Look at me! All I'm doing is paying our debt. You told me to do whatever I had to in order to make it right! That's what I'm doing!" "Let's correct this right here Marquita, or whatever your little hussie name is now," said Lisa, calmly turning and facing him. "It's your debt, not ours, and you didn't ask my permission to do this. Remember I came home seeing you sucking off Derek in my negligee. We never discussed it nor did I say I was good with it. You began this little skank thing all on your own." "I had no choice," said Marc, almost in tears. "I didn't want to lose your car and I was out of options. I really didn't expect this." "Well don't worry about my car, because Derek and I have worked that out between us," said Lisa, turning back around and unscrewing her mascara wand. "The rest is your problem." "Are you kidding me?" cried Marc. "You're screwing him to save your car after I've done all this? Do you have any idea what I've been put through?" "I didn't before, but yeah. I guess I do now," Lisa answered, with a huge grin on her face now. "The sex with guys that big is incredible. See, sometimes good things come from bad situations. Who knew?" "This is insane, Lisa. You're my wife, and I never neglected you in bed. I thought our sex life was incredible," yelled Marc. "Oh I wasn't complaining, honey," said Lisa, stroking her lashes. "But unfortunately for you, your major fuck up got me a major upgrade in the bedroom. As long as you're getting some, I plan to as well. What choice do I have but to make the best of this entire situation? I have needs as well, you know! Plus, at the moment you're not really my type." "None of this shit is funny, Lisa," said Marc, extremely annoyed as she rolled her eyes in the mirror. "I'm not out there screwing around. I never cheated on you in my life. I'm out there being treated like a human pin cushion. Have you seen the guy I was just with, and look what they've done to me?" "I did! He's got to be a moose down there," Lisa grinned. "I bet it's incredible. I can't even believe you can handle it. I didn't think I could take it, but now I'm so horny even thinking about it. Trust me, I'm so sore everywhere and this new experience is killing me, but it's amazing." "What are you saying, Lisa. You barely ever gave me oral, and you wouldn't let me near you when I wanted to go back door," said Marc. "You wouldn't even discuss it!" "I know, but Derek and I never discussed it. It all just happened, and well, I'm hooked," Lisa giggled as she walked out. "In a strange way I can relate to your gambling addiction now, so while you're getting busy, so will I babe." "Lisa, stop," said Marc, chasing her. "Please, enough!" "You run better in heels than I thought," said Lisa as he caught up and grabbed her arm. "Now let go and go to your job." "Lisa, please, you can't just go out there and fuck Derek non-stop," said Marc, putting out his arm to stop her from walking off as Derek came over. "I won't tolerate it, and I won't allow it." "Don't you dare cause a scene here Marquita, if you know what's good for you?" said Derek, stepping in ready to kill him. "Relax honey. She won't." Lisa quickly stepped in and patted Derek's chest, quickly followed by a soft kiss. "Marquita, I believe in your haste you left your purse in the ladies room." "You're a smart girl, aren't you Marquita. If you know what's good for you, then you're going to calm down and get to work taking care of my clients," said Derek, annoyed. "Now go back to the ladies room and look again in that mirror and tell me what you see. What I see is a fine mocha bitch that my clients in here are going to enjoy. I see a girl lucky enough to have what select wealthy guys like Shaquille are paying big bucks for. All I see is a hot sista who needs to earn." "Derek, please leave Lisa out of this," sobbed Marc. "She has nothing to do with this." "Go get your purse and freshen up honey," said Lisa, taking Derek's arm. "Let's not get into all this please." "Whatever!" said Marc, throwing up his arms. "I've been doing it, haven't I. Look at me." "I gotcha bitch, but Marquita's a long way from earning what she needs to earn," Replied Derek getting, right in his face. "Yeah, she's looking fine, but you've only begun to change to do what I need you to do. You can either do it here doing what I need you to do, or I'll toss that pretty ass of yours back out in the streets and you can earn it there. Either way, you're earning what we agreed on." "Relax," said Lisa stepping between them and looking at Marc. "Don't blow this." "I understand. It's cool," said Marc, beginning to panic. "I'm your girl. I'm Marquita, and I'm doing whatever you need me to." "That's better, bitch," said Derek, putting his arm around Lisa again. "I'm going to let you see her every once and awhile too, so don't get your panties in a ruffle." "But wait what about my job? My life! Our marriage!" Marc asked. "All that's on hold until your debt is paid, honey," said Lisa, chiming in. "Derek and I came to an agreement on all that after last night, and you'll be staying here with Shaquille for a while." "Are you kidding?" Marc just about lost it. "I thought this was just for the weekend?" "Relax, Mable will be here to help you, and Lisa and I will check in on you from time to time," said Derek. "He loves a girl that he can mould and change her looks, plus he doesn't mind sharing with some of my other clientele. He's been very impressed, aroused, and satisfied." "That makes two of us," Lisa exclaimed loudly enough for Marc to hear as she stroked Derek's chest with her nails. "But Lisa, please, what about us if I'm stuck here like this," sighed Marc. "All I'm going to do is work like a dog and get pounded like a pi?ata. To these guys, I'm just a sexy piece of meat." "Oh, I'll be checking on you from time to time, but unfortunately for you, you just didn't have the type of meat I've realized I've been missing in my diet," Lisa smirked as she gave Derek a quick kiss before getting in Marc's face, waving her finger with some attitude. "Now when you've earned enough bacon to fix the problem, we'll talk then. Until then, get your pretty little mocha ass back in the ladies room and freshen up like you should have before, instead of flapping that mouth at me. Do we understand each other Marquita, because I'm done with all this now?" "Yes dear," mumbled Marc. "Good, because pulling off that fly sexy bitch shit takes work," said Lisa, giving him a little shove. "Go sprtiz that 'fro' before it loses its bounce, and re-gloss those money makers. You've got some smack to earn, and the longer you wait the longer it's gonna take." "Oh, that was some tough love baby," said Derek, as Marc turned around, following her orders running off to the ladies room. "A girl's go to do what a girl's got to do, baby," said Lisa, wrapping her arms around Derek and sticking her tongue in his mouth. "You are one tough woman, Lisa," said Shaquille, coming over now. "So we're good with the other things I'd like added to her, right Derek?" "Yeah, Mable's already scheduled the boob job for Tuesday, and she said she'll take his hair back dark and do the corn rows for next weekend, if that's what you decide on. Plus, they'll begin tatting him up partially, while he's sedated. The rest as time goes on later in the next few weeks. He's probably going to need to be drugged up for a bit going as big as you're desiring on top," said Derek, nodding. "Mable will handle anything for you while Lisa and I are traveling. We good now?" "Yeah, we're good and she's the best," said Shaquille, slapping some bills in Derek's hand. "She did an amazing job getting him looking so fly tonight. I'm looking forward to tapping that shit big time. I'll let her know everything I want as I want to be able to keep her a little Jlo, mixed with some Beyonc?, but sometimes I just want that street bitch thing. We'll work it out my man." "Enjoy, brother," said Derek, exchanging a fancy handshake. "We're out of here." "Bro, you ever going to tell him?" asked Shaquille. "You know man, about you two? He thinks this shit just happened cause of his debts! He's got no clue you've been doing each other for six months." "And mess this shit up for you and the next guy that wants to tap that ass! Nah!" said Derek, with his arm around Lisa. "Oh please, Shaquille. His gambling made it a layup," said Lisa, kissing Shaquille good bye. "Between his little thimble dick, and dieting, he was made for this. It took six months so I could at least grow his hair out enough to cover the extensions, and take a few more pounds off him. Plus, he's even the one that fell in love with the workout routine that basically got rid of those feeble biceps, and look how great his abs turned out. I think in the end we're all getting what want. Really what we crave." "Damn, that's so true Lisa," said Shaquille, seeing Marc strutting his way. "Now you two have fun tonight because it's time for this big guy to satisfy my cravings, and tonight I'm craving some afro mocha chocolate with a tight little bottom. Last night was nice but tonight you may hear the bitch scream from your place."