I don’t have it in me to turn down a dare.

The music from the party fades to a muffled thump as I step into Jordan's bedroom and shut the door behind me with a click that seems deafening in the sudden quiet.

I take a few steps further in. Unsteady steps. Everything feels sluggish, like my limbs are taking too long to respond to my mental commands. I frown. C’mon. I haven’t been drinking that much.

"Sooo… here we are, dude," I say, my words slurry. I feel strangely lightheaded, not entirely grounded, as if I’m trying to walk through water. Man. Have I been drinking that much?

"So we are, Lexi," he says, amiably. "Ready to prove you’re not all talk?"

"Don’t call me Lexi, dude. You knooow I don’t like that."

He crosses his arms, smiling. "And I don’t like being called dude. So, are we doing this or not?"

I nod, a slow, exaggerated motion that feels disconnected from my body. I blink hard, trying to steady myself. Jordan's still sitting there, a look of challenge and doubt on his face, like he thinks I’m going to chicken out at the last second. That I'll back down. Well, I'll show him.

"Let's do this," I say. "I can handle anything you throw at me, d — err, buddy."

"I’m sure you can, Alexis."

I flash him a grin as I lower myself to the floor. It gives me vertigo, and for a second I feel like the room is spinning around me, but I actually feel better when I get down. Lower center of gravity. Steadier.

I shuffle forward, eager to show him. I never back down from a dare, dammit!

I tentatively reach for the waistband of his jeans. My fingers fumble with the button and zipper, my coordination shot to hell.

Jordan chuckles above me. "Need some help there, Alexis?"

Before I can respond, his hands are on mine, guiding me as I tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his already hard cock. It springs up, nearly smacking me in the face.

I find myself staring. I've never actually seen one this close before. I mean, I've seen pictures and videos, sure, but as a lesbian, obviously I’ve never been up close to one in person.

A distant part of my brain is asking what the hell I think I'm doing. I'm a lesbian, for fuck's sake. I frown, searching my mind for… something? Huh. I don't quite remember the conversation that led to this dare. Was it my idea or his?

But I can't back down now. Not with him looking at me like that, like he's just waiting for me to admit defeat. No way. I'm not going to let him win this!

I lick my lips, my mouth feeling dry. My gaze drops back to his cock, standing at attention.

Steeling myself, I lean forward, my hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Weird. It’s, like… both hard and soft at the same time. I give it an experimental stroke, and it immediately responds. That part is easy, at least, I guess.

I part my lips and stop inches away from his cock, breathing heavily on the tip. I tentatively stick out my tongue and give the head a little lick.

Whoa. The taste is strange and unfamiliar on my tongue. But not necessarily bad. Jordan lets out a soft groan above me. Emboldened, I open my mouth and take the tip inside.

I start to move, bobbing my head clumsily up and down, taking him into my mouth as far as I can manage without choking. Which, in my current state, isn't very far at all.

Am I doing this right? Should I use my tongue more? My movements are basic and uncoordinated. It’d be easier if my body didn’t feel so sluggish… laaazy…

Fortunately, Jordan seems to be enjoying it anyway, judging by his sharp intake of breath. That encourages me to keep going, to find a rhythm. It's kind of mesmerizing in a way, the repetitive motion, the feeling of him sliding in and out of my mouth.

I lose myself in the act of giving head, in the raw carnality of it all. The wet sounds. The feel of his cock on my tongue. The satisfaction of sticking to the dare. Jordan's deep, animalistic grunts. It all blends together.

"Fuck, Alexis," he breathes. "Your mouth feels so good."

What?

There’s something almost instantly sobering about his words. For a second, something pierces through the veil of my foggy perception. What am I doing? I’m straight up blowing a dude right now. A friend, sure, but what the hell. I’m a gold star lesbian, or… was? I guess I’ve lost that status. You can’t just unsuck a cock…

Maybe I’ll stop now. I did it, I went through with the dare. Even if I stop now, he can’t tell I’ve chickened out.

Just as I’ve finally mustered the will to withdraw from him, his hands rest on my head, his fingers threading through my hair. It’s a gentle touch, but somehow, it stops my motion dead cold, and I find myself still bobbing up and down the tip of his cock instead.

His grip tightens a little as I keep going, though. He’s keeping me down, and subtly starting to direct my moments.

"Fuck yeah, Lexi, you’re doing so well for me."

I shoot a glance up at him as he backslides into using that stupid nickname. I want to correct him, tell him not to call me that, but my mouth is otherwise occupied. And besides, his hands on my head have a strangely… grounding effect. It’s like my uh, my will feels a bit dormant right now.

That… that’s doing things to me.

No, no, it’s just that I’m too drunk to think straight. Hehe, straight… pun unintended.

Unfortunately, the levity fails to distract me from the familiar ache starting to build low in my belly. No way. Noooo way. I move one hand exploratorily down my jeans, no easy feat with my current neuromotor coordination shot, and I'm shocked to discover that I'm wet. Soaking wet.

From sucking a guy's cock.

Holy shit, am I seriously getting turned on by this? The realization makes my head spin. What the fuck’s wrong with me?

It’s not exactly him, at least I don’t think, it’s the, uh… firmness. All the girls I’ve been intimate with have been vanilla. Great sex, but I always took it for granted that it was sex between equals. But Jordan right now feels… entitled? Unyielding?

Controlling?

His hands are gripping my head now, regulating my pace as I work his cock with my lesbian mouth.

And I'm... responding to it.

I make to withdraw my hand from my jeans, having discovered just how wet all of this is making me, but Jordan must spot me, because he says, "No no, Lexi, keep that hand there. I don’t mind."

His words send a shiver down my spine. There's a commanding edge to his tone that I'm not used to hearing from him. Or from anyone, really.

I hesitate for a moment, my hand frozen in place, but then I find myself obeying, sliding my hand back down into my jeans. My fingers brush against my clit through the thin fabric of my underwear and I let out a small, involuntary whimper around his cock.

Fuck. I'm so sensitive right now. Every little touch is electric, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through my body. I start to rub myself in slow, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of my mouth on his shaft.

"No reason why we shouldn’t both get something out of this," he says casually above me, and it’s so humiliating that I’m visibly getting off on sucking cock. Submissively so.

Suddenly, I can’t hold back anymore. I find myself openly and wantonly moaning around his cock, rubbing myself faster and faster.

Jordan must sense the shift in me because his grip tightens and he starts to thrust into my mouth. Shallow thrusts, not enough to choke me, but enough to make it clear who’s doing the fucking, and who’s being fucked.

"Fuck, I always wanted to train a lesbian into becoming a talented cocksucker," he says, throwing his head back. "Do you realize how cool that is?"

The adrenaline must be clearing some of the fog from my mind, because suddenly his words aren’t flying right past me anymore, and I’m finding all manner of implications in them.

The word "train" echoes in my head as I continue bobbing up and down his shaft, my hand still working between my legs. Train? Like, like breaking in a horse or something? A wave of humiliation washes over me at the comparison.

Is that what this is? Am I being broken in?

There’s also this, like… this meaning. Like the fact that I’m a lesbian is just an inconvenience to his need for pleasure, an obstacle that can be cleared with methodical patience if he applies himself to the problem. Like I’m just the receiver of his decisions and inputs, and I don’t get a say in whether said obstacle should remain in place or not.

Fuck. Why, how is that hot?

I know how guys are like. How their ego is, how they get off on the conquest, the idea of changing a girl’s mind just by sheer force of will alone. Well, he’s making his lesbian friend suck his cock. I can only begin to imagine how he must be feeling right now.

Train a lesbian into a cocksucker, I think over and over, in rhythm with my fingers on my clit. Train a lesbian into a cocksucker.

Jordan's cock feels so right in my mouth, sinking further inch by inch as his thrusts deepen. I reflexively start hollowing out my cheeks, sucking harder. I'm close, so close. That’s fucking shocking, it’s like my own arousal has ambushed me, but it’s undeniable.

For the first time, he breaches the entrance to my throat.

I start gagging right away. I’ve never deepthroated even a dildo, and the alcohol doesn’t help, so I instinctively try to wriggle away from him. But his hands keep me firmly in place. I make a desperate choking sound as my throat spasms around his conquering cock.

"Shhh, relax, try not to gag," he says. "You can do it, Lexi."

Fuck. He’s preventing me from getting away. He’s methodically subduing my throat. Tears spring to my eyes as I try to swallow, to relax my throat. Slowly, my breathing steadies, and I find myself with my nose pressed against his croch as he finally buries himself to the hilt down my throat.

The world narrows down to this moment, to the feeling of his cock down my throat, to his hands mastering me…

Straightening me out…

The thought unexpectedly sends me hurtling over the edge of a cliff I didn’t even know was there. It almost feels like I’m falling as my muscles ripple and convulse. Pleasure jolts through my body as I start moaning desperately around his cock, my eyes fluttering as the orgasm hits me like a shockwave.

I’m cumming from sucking cock. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!

My pleasure seems to trigger something in Jordan, too. He lets out a loud groan above me, his hands digging deeper into my scalp.

My orgasm-addled brain barely registers this. I'm too lost in my own overwhelming sensations, in the ecstasy pulsing through me.

Then the realization hits me.

Wait, surely he’s not going to…?

Suddenly, I feel Jordan's cock twitch and swell in my mouth. My eyes fly open in shock as the first thick, hot ropes of his cum begin shooting straight down my throat.

Oh my god, he's not pulling out! He's going to make me swallow his load!

I try to pull back, but his hands keep my head firmly in place, his cock lodged deep. I have no choice but to take it as he empties himself into me. Rope after rope of cum spurts down my gullet.

Finally, mercifully, his orgasm subsides. His grip on my hair loosens and he slowly withdraws from my mouth. I gasp for air, coughing and sputtering, as his cock slips from between my lips.

"Why…" I ask, panting, gasping. "Why didn’t you…"

"It’s polite to swallow," he says, sighing in bliss, closing his eyes and just apparently basking in the glory of the moment. "Not bad for a first-timer. You’ve got a hidden talent… Lexi."

I kneel there, dazed and disoriented, as the reality of what just happened starts to sink in. I just sucked Jordan's dick. I deep-throated him. I let him cum in my mouth. And I... I came harder than I ever have in my life from doing it.

What does this mean? Who am I now?

I make to stand up, and find out I can’t. I try to understand what’s stopping me, confused, and it takes my alcohol and sex addled brain a second to realize Jordan’s hands are gently but firming pressing downwards, keeping me on my knees.

I blink up at him, confused.

Jordan's thumb traces my lower lip, wiping away a stray drop of his cum. "Speaking of being polite… You've still got a bit of a mess to clean up," he says, his voice low and commanding.

My eyes widen as I realize what he's implying. He wants me to... to lick him clean? After he just...?

"Jordan, I..." I start to protest, but his other hand simply cradles the back of my neck and effortlessly pulls me towards him, towards his glistening cock.

So unceremonious. So disrespectful. So easy.

I lean forward, my tongue darting out to lick and lap at his softening cock. There’s something so… demure in the act of lapping at it like I’m a loyal dog. Like a non-verbal admission that my lesbianism is being permanently lowered in importance below the sexual pleasure he can get out of my throat and mouth…

Jordan lets out a contented sigh above me, his hands still resting on my head, fingers lazily combing through my hair. It's almost soothing, this gentle touch, but it's also possessive. Like he's petting a prized possession.

"You know, Lexi," he says, his voice casual, conversational, as if we're just having a normal chat and I'm not on my knees with his cock in my mouth. "Now that you've been broken in to cock, I don't think I'll settle for just your mouth next time."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water, shocking me out of my post-orgasmic haze. Next time? Not just my mouth?

I look up at him, eyes wide, scared, imploring. He smiles down affectionately at me.

"I mean, you’ve already got my cum inside you anyway. Does it really matter which hole? Might as well go all the way, right?"

A shudder runs through me at the thought, a confusing mix of apprehension and... excitement? No, that can't be right. I'm a lesbian. I don't want cock. I don't want him to fuck me.

Do I?

He said he’d train me. He said I’ve been broken in to cock. I orgasmed like crazy when I thought he was straightening me out.

I… I look down, unable to meet his gaze any longer, and I nod.

I don’t have it in me to refuse him. Not anymore.

***

I don’t have it in me to dare defy his will.

I struggle weakly beneath Jordan's weight, my wrists pinned above my head in his strong grip. It’s purely performative: I don’t actually want to squirm away. But the mere act of doing this makes it feel as if he’s subduing me by force.

A part of me — something old and ancient that’s been lying dormant underneath my feminism, underneath my lesbianism, responds to that idea with pure liquid heat between my thighs.

Just like I found myself responding to the idea of being broken in like a horse. Of being a lesbian, trained into excellent cocksucking.

He said he wouldn’t just settle for my mouth next time, and here we are…

Jordan is gentle in his mastery. His frame drapes over mine, but not harshly. Firmly, yes, but there’s a certain care to it.

He has my wrists pinned to the mattress with one hand, while the other does what it’s been doing for a while — teasing my clit. All the memes about guys being unable to find it seem silly and remote, now that my body is at the mercy of his ministrations.

The physical and the mental go side by side. When I first sucked his cock, I got off on the inexplicably arousing idea that my lesbianism was just an obstacle for him to overcome. That he’d apply himself to solving that problem, and I’d just be there, passively receiving his inputs, with no say in what ultimately happens to my own sexual orientation.

That’s exactly what’s happening now. His fingers brushing my clit are slowly eroding my lesbian orientation away. I’m being acted upon. I can’t muster the willpower to stop it. In fact, it’s all I can do not to buck my hips into his hand.

Some lesbian I am, huh?

"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for. For him to stop? For him to hurry up and get it over with? I don’t know. When I was a gold star lesbian, the sapphic sex I experienced was so… wholesome. Pleasure among loving peers. I’ve never felt anything this… vertical. Asymmetric.

Unequal.

"You’re too tense. Relax, Lexi," Jordan says softly. "It'll hurt less if you're ready."

Ready. How can I ever be ready for this? I’m shaking all over—partly from fear of what's coming next and partly from anticipation that I don’t want to admit is there.

This is insane! How did it come to this?

Mere days ago, I’d never so much as kissed a man, let alone considered letting one fuck me. Now, I’ve sucked Jordan’s cock twice, and while the first time I had the fig leaf of the dare to hide behind, now there’s no such rationalization.

No. The first time, I sucked him to completion and politely swallowed. This time, well… I had to get his cock hard and glistening, in preparation for this moment. I can feel it poke against my inner thigh, still damp with my spit.

"Yes," I say, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, "… Sir." Not because he asked me to, it just feels so natural to tack it on at the end. The glimmer of validation in his eyes tells me it was the right choice.

"Maybe you should ask me nicely," he says, playfully, deliberately. "Do you really want me to fuck lesbianism out of you?"

I shudder at his words, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and arousal. "I… I don't know."

"Come on, Lexi. Be a good girl and ask me for what you want."

I told him not to call me Lexi, once. He’s been doing it with impunity ever since I lowered myself to submit my lesbian lips to the service of his cock.

That says everything about is, doesn’t it? About where we stand.

This is it. The point of no return. If I say the words, if I ask him to do this... there's no going back. My identity as a lesbian, my sense of self, will be irrevocably changed.

But isn't it already? Haven't I already crossed that line by slurping on his cock, by getting off on it, by letting him cum down my throat? By ending up here, pinned beneath him, his throbbing erection hovering mere inches away from my lesbian cunt?

"Please…" I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Sir… fuck me. Fuck the lesbianism out of me."

The words feel foreign in my mouth, but also… right somehow. Like I was always meant to say them, to submit to him this way.

Jordan nods appreciatively above me. "I keep telling you, Lexi. You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re so polite. It becomes you."

And then, without further preamble, he pushes inside me, and I gasp as my well-lubricated cunt gives way. So much electrifying symbolism, in such a little thing. A lesbian pussy, unspoiled by cock all my life, being way ahead of my brain and instantly parting for its rightful master. Knowing what to do, even when I falter.

Yielding before cock. Molding itself around cock. Accommodating, holstering, warming cock. No matter what my claimed orientation may be, my cunt was designed by evolution for exactly this purpose. It knows where it belongs.

And now, so do I.

He starts to move, slow at first but quickly picking up speed. I find myself… enjoying it?

No, that can't be right. I'm a lesbian. I don't like cock. I don't…

Oh fuck.

He hits a spot inside me that sends sparks of pleasure radiating through my body. I let out an involuntary moan, my back arching off the bed. Jordan smirks down at me, clearly pleased with my reaction.

"Don’t worry. We’re gonna grind out that lesbianism and let it all out of you."

I flush at his condescending tone, moaning like a wanton slut. Somehow, it only turns me on more. What is happening to me?

"There’s a good lesbian," Jordan says, clearly amused at my reaction. His hips are slamming into me now as my legs wrap around his back, drawing him further in. I feel like I’m being humbled, reshaped, molded to become an extension, an accessory to his cock.

And I love it.

The realization crashes over me. I really do love this. I love being fucked by Jordan, being claimed by his cock. All my life, I thought I knew who I was, but I failed to realize that the more important question was what I was. Now, with Jordan pumping into me, owning me, straightening me out, I’ve finally found out.

I’m a cocksleeve. A set of holes for male sexual relief.

"Fuck, I need to tell my friends…" he says, panting. "Dyke cunt feels so much better than straight cunt…"

As if that wasn’t enough to make my fucked-up neurons go haywire, his hand moves back between my legs, finding my clit with unerring accuracy. The combination of his thrusts and his fingers makes my eyes flutter back into my skull.

I never imagined it could feel like this. Jordan's cock sliding in and out of me, his fingers expertly manipulating my clit. It's like he's playing my body like a fiddle, knowing exactly which strings to pluck to take away my autonomy. To make me unravel.

And I do unravel. I moan, whimper, plead. I can't hold back even if I wanted to. My body is no longer under my control - it belongs to him now.

I’m a feminist. I believe in equality, in mutual respect, in the power of women to make their own choices. Yet here I am, letting him make all the choices for me, letting him take what he wants as if my desires are secondary, as if they don’t even exist.

The cognitive dissonance only makes it hotter that he’s treating me like an object, like a piece of meat.

"See how well you take it," he says. "I told you I’d train you. I told you that by now you were broken in to dick…"

His words send a shockwave through me, igniting every nerve ending. I can feel an orgasm building, coiling tight in my belly, ready to burst outwards at any moment.

He notices.

"You gonna cum? Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock like a good straight girl?"

His fingers speed up on my clit as his cock pounds into me relentlessly. It's too much, too intense. I shatter beneath him, my orgasm crashing over me in wave after wave of blinding ecstasy. I'm vaguely aware of screaming, of my body convulsing, of my cunt clamping down on his cock like it never wants to let go.

And through it all, Jordan fucks me. Fucks me through my orgasm, fucks me as I come down from it, fucks me until I'm a boneless, whimpering mess beneath him.

It's only when I feel his pace start to falter, his thrusts becoming more erratic, that a sudden realization pierces through the haze of my arousal.

He's not wearing a condom.

Panic flares briefly in my chest. What if he cums inside me? What if I get pregnant? No, no, I’m fine. I can get a morning after pill. It’s fine.

But almost as soon as the thought forms, it's chased by another, more insidious one.

What if… what if he doesn't want me to take the pill?

The thought ambushes me out of nowhere, making my breath catch in my throat. Jordan hasn't said anything about it, hasn't even hinted at such a thing. This is entirely my own mind, my own twisted imagination, but once the idea takes root, I can't shake it.

Imagine if he decided that, after changing my orientation, he was going to take away my reproductive autonomy too. That he was going to make the choice for me, decide that I would carry his child.

It's a violation. It's wrong on every level. It goes against everything I believe in as a feminist, as a woman. And yet…

Oh God, why is the thought making me even wetter? Why is it sending electric thrills racing down my spine, making my toes curl and my back arch?

The image floods my mind: Jordan pinning me down, his cock buried deep inside me as he tells me that he's going to cum, that he's going to fill me with his seed. That he's going to knock me up and there's nothing I can do about it.

"You're mine now, Lexi," he'd say. "Your body belongs to me. I decide what happens to it."

And I'd be helpless to stop him. Helpless to do anything but take it, to let him use me as he sees fit. Just a vessel for his pleasure, for his cum, for his genes.

The fantasy hits me like a freight train, and I'm cumming again before I even realize it's happening. My second orgasm rips through me, even more intense than the first, my cunt spasming and clenching around Jordan's pistoning cock.

"Fuck, Lexi, your dyke cunt is milking me so hard…!"

Jordan's thrusts are growing more frantic now. He's close, I can tell. Close to cumming inside me, close to potentially impregnating me. And I want it. God help me, but I want it.

"Please," I hear myself whimper, the word escaping my lips before I can stop it. "Please, Sir… cum inside me. I… I want it…"

His eyes widen slightly at my plea, a flash of surprise quickly replaced by a dark, possessive hunger. His grip on my hips tightens, and with a final roar, he finally arches his own back, his cock pulsing as my greedy cunt milks him of every single drop of cum, sucking it into my unprotected womb. I can feel it, the hot rush of his seed flooding my insides, marking me, claiming me in the most primal way possible.

It's wrong. It's so wrong. But fuck, it feels so right.

I'm shaking in the aftermath, my body wracked with the force of my orgasms, my mind reeling from the implications of what I've just done, what I've just allowed to happen.

Jordan collapses on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his softening cock still buried inside me. He's panting, his breath hot against my neck, and I realize I'm clinging to him, my nails digging into his back, my legs wrapped around his waist.

Keeping him inside me. Not letting him go.

He may not even realize this yet, but I know with complete certainty now.

I won’t have it in me to dare take the pill without his permission.

TO BE CONTINUED...