Turned into a Festival Fairy! by Dex O'Donald (102 Pages)

This was a comic of ours that we did, but IMO the story is SOOOOO MUCH HOTTER:

Turned Into a

Festival Fairy!

Written By Dex O’Donald 

w/QOS Book Club

Story by Devin Dickie

© 2019-2060  QoS Comix All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to ​[email protected] 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Day 1 

-Night 1

Day 2

-Night 2

Day 3

-Night 3

Day 4

-Night 4

The Morning After

Day 1

Quinn glimpsed his reflection against the tailgate window of his white 4Runner- slouched posture, regular haircut. He didn’t think he was cool enough, hip enough, with it enough to be there that day, at the Fairy Ravemother EDM Festival. His clothes were plain and grey, his auburn hair parted to one side. Not what you saw in the Instagram dreams of Lollapalooza and Coachella. 

No, Quinn was just a regular guy. Maybe too regular for the intensity of a four-day camping music festival.

“Can you hand me the sunblock, babe?” Layla called, stepping out of the tent pitched a few yards away. If Quinn was a fish out of water when it came to festival chic, his girlfriend Layla was a shark in shallow depths. 

The epitome of sexy raver girl, Layla’s outfit that day was the most revealing thing Quinn had ever seen her wear, by far. Blue denim jean shorts clung tight to her delicate waist but were woefully inadequate in the back, making it only halfway down her plump, tanned asscheeks. They jiggled with every step she took, and Quinn noticed every step she took. So did some of their neighbors. 

She completed what little of the outfit there was with a rainbow-colored see-through bra that made you wonder how straps that small could bear the weight of breasts so large. She filled it out to bursting, a wonder such a top even came in her size. Pink star-shaped pasties covered her nipples below the see-through bra, and in the bright sunlight they were hard to miss. A pair of brown moccasin-style boots adorned her feet, and she kept her dirty blonde hair back along her head in perfect French-braided pigtails.

Between the tiny shorts and bra, most of Layla’s skin was exposed. And on a very real level, it drove Quinn insane.

“Is that the whole outfit?” Quinn squinted, handing Layla the sunblock.

“Umm, yes? Is there a problem?”

“No problem. Just wondering…it’s like, really revealing.”

“Duh?” Layla blocked the sun from her face, her twinkling green eyes suddenly lush in her hand’s shadow. “We’re at a music festival, Quinn. Remember? The whole reason we’re here is to have fun and let loose. Don’t go getting all jealous on me, alright? I’m your girl. Guys might look but they can’t touch. That’s your job.”

Layla smiled, her vivacious mouth parting over straight teeth. She wrapped her arms around Quinn’s waist and kissed him.

“You might think about changing up your attire, babe,” she giggled. “This is very Monday morning stuff you have on. Let’s live a little, alright? Be open to new experiences?”

“Sure,” Quinn sighed, trying his best to let the knot of jealousy in his stomach dissolve. “I’ll loosen up, I promise I will. I’ve just never done anything like this before and, I don’t know, maybe I’m just feeling a little uptight.”

“That’s what alcohol is for,” she winked. “Let’s get you some!”

The field they camped in was sprawling, the size of three football fields. Vehicles and tents ran in messy rows as far as the eye could see like wildflowers in summer. In the distance loomed the festival grounds and main stage; a palatial beacon that served as the central hub of the festival itself. A Ferris wheel spun against the cloudless blue sky. The dull thud of bass and drum music reached the campsites, always prevalent, always moving. 

Quinn and Layla found Alisha and Tanya below the pop-up canopy situated in the center of their campsite. Here there were camping chairs and a folding table, a place to pre-game before making the trek into the festival grounds. The tabletop was already home to five different types of alcohol, a tower of red solo cups leaning precariously.

“If it isn’t the two love birds come to join us,” Tanya grinned, holding her solo cup in the air. “Pour a drink and let’s take a shot! We are here!”

“Day 1, baby!” Alisha squealed, eyeballing three shots of tequila. “We’ve been talking about this for a year and it’s finally here!”

“I know! I can’t believe it!” Layla bounced on her feet and Quinn couldn’t help but dread the jiggle of her luscious breasts. Pretty soon they would be out in the festival where everyone could see that jiggle…

Quinn looked at Tanya. She was staring devilishly at Layla, like something nasty was on her mind. Her gray eyes always seemed to chang colors, sometimes matching the shocked blue of her close-cropped hair. She wore a pink crocheted crop top that clung to her taut torso, revealing the sides of her apricot breasts. He hadn’t known Tanya as long as Layla, but Quinn couldn’t help but get the feeling that she was up to something. Always.

“I’m already on my third shot!” Alisha exclaimed; her voice a sing-songy dream. “You two need to catch up!” 

Quinn liked Alisha. He liked her as Layla’s good friend, and as his friend as well. It didn’t hurt that she had incredible tits –larger and more demanding even than Layla’s. Something about her shimmering, elegant red hair and the way it fell about her face in messy locks…it always seemed to enrapture Quinn. 

The top she wore that day was startling in its impropriety – what seemed to be no more than a tie-died piece of cloth wrapped around her breasts from the back. The top and bottoms of her mountainous chest pale and freckled.

Quinn had a little crush on her. Who cared? He was spoken for anyway. And Layla was gorgeous. Elfishly beautiful in her features…but maybe if Quinn were more of a man, less of a pushover, maybe if he just embraced the freedom of the music festival and all it had to offer…maybe, just maybe he could find himself the center of attention in one of those hippie menage a trois he’d heard so much about.

A boy could dream.

“To our Fairy Ravemother and all the wonderful things she may bestow on us this weekend,” Tanya’s chameleon eyes danced, the four of them standing below the canopy tent with cups raised in toast. 

“Cheers!” Alisha shouted.

“To us!” Layla shrieked. 

“Salute!” Quinn offered.

“Cheers sluts!” Tanya cackled, and the four of them threw the hefty shots down their throats like bullets from a gun.  

The weekend had begun. 

The walk to the festival grounds from the campgrounds wasn’t exactly an expedition, but it was long enough, Quinn thought. Long enough for the hundreds of campsites and people that they passed to get a good, full look at his gorgeous girlfriend and the lack of clothing she had on. He stayed close beside her, almost tripping on her feet, being sure to let any and all know who she was with.

They passed rows and rows of cars and tents, pop-ups and trailers, canopies and makeshift tarps. Campers played music on loudspeakers but it was never enough to drown out the droning bass from the mainstage nearly a mile away. And with every step forward the group of four took, the music grew louder…and louder…and louder…

“You really lucked out, Quinny,” Alisha said, using her little nickname for him (he loved it). “Getting to roam Fairy Ravemother with three hot chicks. One of them your girlfriend no less. The dudes here are gonna think you have it made!”

“I’ll say,” Layla nudged Quinn and winked. “They’re gonna say ‘that dude is the man for bagging that kind of ass!” 

“Ah, jeez,” Quinn said, a little red in the face. He looked down at his outfit; plain and boring. For a moment he wished he would have packed better, had he some sort of incite on how to dress for the occasion.

“Or maybe they’ll say,” Tanya chimed in, “that guy must have a huge cock to score three girls at once!”

Alisha laughed at the comment, not knowing any better. Layla gave a nervous chuckle, casting a sideways glance at her boyfriend. And Quinn went silent, breath catching a little in his chest. None of the girls knew, none except Layla. And she was fine with it. She’d told him as much at least a hundred times. But suffice it to say that no, Quinn absolutely did not have a ‘huge cock.’

“We’ve really got to do something about your festival wear, Quinn,” Tanya added. “That Friday Casual look just isn’t working.”

“I could see you in something more spiritual this weekend, Quinny,” Alisha looked him up and down as they walked. “Something that’s you but also not you. Does that make sense? We’ll have to listen to your inner voice to really find it.”

“What do you think, baby?” Layla smiled, taking his hand. “Ready to try something new? Maybe we’ll see someone at the show wearing something your kind of style…maybe we can go to one of the clothing booths and find you something hip.”

Quinn looked at her in the sunlight; a young, flawless beauty. Layla’s side profile was mesmerizing, plump lips protruding, a tucked little nose, a soft chin. Smooth skin. His eyes, like so many of the men they were passing on that walk, fell to her jostling breasts inside the glorified rainbow bra. Tiny beads of sweat formed on her cleavage, some of it running and disappearing down the center. 

They’d been together almost a year and she knew everything about him. Even his inadequacies. At night she told him she loved him. Every night. But somehow it wasn’t enough for his doubtful mind to buy into…there would always be that piece of him that felt like he just didn’t deserve her.

“I think I’m open to suggestions,” Quinn smiled, taking Layla’s hand and squeezing. “Whatever you girls think is best…I’ll give it a try…”

“That’s the spirit, Quinny!” Alisha said cheerfully, her dazzling green eyes following a flock of college guys, shirtless and muscled. “My my, the appetizers here are delectable…”

They came into the festival grounds bright eyed and hopeful, the summer sun screaming overhead. The Main Stage was closer now, a monolith of depravity and hedonism. It was there the main music acts would play, there that tens of thousands of festival goers would gather to free themselves and their minds through dance and drugs and music. The pulsating techno beat, 120 beats per minute, pounding out day and night for whoever was just waking up or hadn’t been to bed yet. 

The stage was flanked on both sides by towering, massive screens that broadcasted out the main acts to everyone in the festival, no matter where you were standing. Blinking neon letters spelled out Fairy Ravemother over everything.

“Yeah but do you see the guy they’re with? What a nerd…”

“Probably just their younger brother or something. No way in hell it’s a boyfriend…”

Quinn heard the snickers behind him, his ears tuned to them. He turned to look but the voices were just faces in the crowd now, “bro bros” and “chads” in their chiseled physiques and short shorts, littering the festival grounds like alley cats outside a restaurant kitchen. Quinn knew he’d be hearing similar comments all weekend, and that learning to just block them out and move on was probably the best course of action.

“FACEPAINT!” Tanya squealed suddenly. “Over here! Let’s go!”

Quinn followed behind the girls, his eyes free to take in the three delectable asses bounding in front of him; Layla’s bubble cheeks halfway out of their denim prison, Tanya’s yoga-butt toned and strong, and Alisha’s pale-white, creamy muffin ass completely revealed in a purple thong. 

They came to a stand in a row of vendors, a hippie girl named Maia with long dreadlocks offering to bedazzle faces with an array of body paint. 

“Let’s do some stars and flower pedals,” Tanya said, taking a seat across from Maia. “How about you Quinn? You should go next!”

Quinn balked at the suggestion, watching as the hippie girl traced careful patterns on Tanya’s face.

“Oh come on, Quinny,” Alisha nudged him, “let’s get some stars on you. Something astral. Let’s find out who you are on a spiritual level!”

Quinn looked at Layla, unsure.

“Do what you want,” Layla shrugged. But Quinn saw some uncertainty there, or maybe he was projecting it. Either way, there was a tone to how she said it.

“I’m not so sure,” Quinn said, watching Tanya and Alisha switch places. Maia dipped her brush in red, something quite close to Alisha’s hair color, and began drawing spiral patterns leading out from her eyes.

“You look stiff, little guy,” Tanya wrapped a strong arm around his shoulder, they were the same height at a modest 5’5. She pulled him close, close enough to put a crick in his neck. “We need you to join the fun. I mean, look at your hot ass girlfriend! She is dressed to the nines. Ready to fucking go. How are you gonna walk around with a babe like her when you’re dressed like that?”

“I um…well I can change I guess…” Quinn mumbled.

“You gotta start with letting go, my guy,” Tanya grinned. “Like that spiritual shit Alisha is on about. Let’s get a few little designs on that face of yours and see if it doesn’t get you feeling a little more free…more you…”

“Come on, Quinny!” Alisha fake pouted, her mountainous titties swaying as she stood up. Her face was glittery and colorful, cute designs squiggling along her soft features. “How can you find your true self if you’re so obsessed with your current form?”

Quinn saw Tanya shoot an eye roll at Layla, and Layla stifled her laughter.

“I can see the change wanting to sprout within you, Quinny. You just need to let it out! Here, why don’t you just sit right on down…”

Quinn let Alisha lead him by the shoulders down into the chair. He had to avert his eyes from her distracting cleavage and look at his girlfriend, who was staring at him with some definite confusion in her eyes.

What is she thinking? He wondered. Is she mad at me? Does she think I have a crush on Alisha or something?

“Why don’t you start with a few…butterflies?” Tanya walked behind Maia, standing over the girl as if she owned the place. “Yes. Some butterflies, maybe a little rainbow, flowers for sure…

Maia’s brush came in quick.

“Rainbows?” Quinn flinched back. “Butterflies?”

“You have to get in touch with nature, Quinny,” Alisha put both hands on his shoulders and leaned close to him, her tits tantalizing. “You must get in touch with your nature. And the only way you can do that is to explore new things! This is a great place to start!”

Quinn gazed up at Layla, seeing her just over the tops of Alisha’s breasts mere inches from his face. Her hands were on her hips, every inch of her bronzed legs basking in sunlight. She was looking at Quinn, almost like she was trying to figure him out...almost like they’d just met.

“What do you think, Layla?” Quinn asked from the chair, the paint brush inches from his face.

“If you want to I say go for it,” she said somewhat tersely. Layla shrugged.

Quinn looked at Maia, at Tanya. The sound at the main stage grew louder, one of the main acts starting up for the afternoon set. 

“OK sure, I guess do it. Just don’t go overboard. OK?”

“Hold still this time,” Tanya’s gray eyes darkened. “No more flinching.”

The brush was cool on his hot skin, and he actually found himself enjoying the experience. Maybe he could relax after all, let things come to him as they may, enjoy himself for once. After all, if he couldn’t find happiness in the company of three absurdly sexy women for four straight days, was joy really achievable for him?

But that easy-going attitude went out the window when he saw his face in Tanya’s pocket mirror a few minutes later.

“It’s too much,” he said, moving to rub a large rainbow off his right cheek. 

“Stop that,” Tanya swatted his hand away. “It costs ten bucks! It stays on!”

“Don’t be a spoil sport, Quinny,” Alisha’s fake whine. “You look cute!”

“DJ Coo-Coo is starting soon,” Layla interrupted, walking ahead of the group and b lining across an open field towards the mainstage. Quinn watched her fat ass sway side to side as the massive stage loomed up ahead, droves of young people answering its call and slow stampeding towards it. The huge screens out to either side of it were displaying what was taking place on the stage itself: a young black DJ behind turntables, hand in the air, imploring the crowd to get loud.

“Fuck he’s so hot,” Alisha moaned, the four of them now well within the thick of the crowd. They managed to get a good spot along the far side, no more than twenty yards from the stage. “I mean I would let that man do anything to me.”

“Do you see his fucking arms?” Tanya’s eyes a wavy blue in the lightshow coming off the stage. “God what I would do to feel that kind of power…”

Quinn watched the man in question perform on stage. DJ Coo-Coo was built like a college basketball player, his loose white tank top sticking sweaty to his black physique. He wore sunglasses with silver rims, scanning the crowd with a toothy grin on his face.

“Are you gonna stand there and gawk at him or are you gonna dance, Quinn?” Tanya barked loudly over the music. Alisha responded with a high, startled laugh. And though she tried to hide it, Layla did the same.

“Huh-what?” Quinn snapped out of his daze and moved his feet clumsily to the beat. Alisha and Tanya had their backs to him, but he could tell they were laughing. Laughing at him. Fuck he was embarrassed. The hot knife of shame crept up his neck like a bad sunburn. 

Quinn watched his girlfriend dance to the music, much cleaner and more adept than him. Layla’s eyes were glued to DJ Coo Coo, some sort of soft awe across her face. Each time her feet landed in the dirt her breasts jiggled, swayed, rose and fell with a motion as perfect as waves at sunset. He wanted to reach out and touch her just then. Why didn’t he?

He spotted two guys, college aged, a few feet away in the same general dancing area. They were staring at her, making no attempt to hide it, whispering smiles and silent laughter. 

“I love this song,” Quinn whispered in Layla’s ear from behind, sliding his arms around her pulsating body, stifling it. 

“Me too but,” Layla’s perspiring, mostly nude body slid from his grasp, “I need some room when I dance, OK? We can dance later to some slower stuff or something…” She didn’t wait for Quinn to respond, falling back into the rhythm of the deafening beat, using space to throw her body side to side, dropping low and popping high.

Quinn backed up a step, as if some tiny arrow had shot him through the belly. As DJ Coo Coo worked his girlfriend and the crowd into a frenzy from the elevated stage, Quinn chanced a look over at the college guys.

They were laughing openly now, but not at Layla.

They were laughing at him.

Night 1

The afternoon came and went in a blaze of heat, and the group of four returned to the campsite to regroup for the evening ahead. 

Quinn sat in the common “chill” area beneath the erected canopy, resting his feet before the trek back into the festival grounds. Candles cast a soft glow on everything around him, and a thousand conversations from the campsites nearby pattered incoherently over the distant bass of the mainstage. 

“Goddamn girl you got some nice titties!” Alisha squealed from inside a tent nearby, more than a little drunk. “You’re gonna have to hold those puppies still if we’re going to get these on correctly!” Layla was in the tent with her, citing “help with tonight’s” outfit as her reason. 

“You’re tickling me!” Layla gasped breathless, falling into a fit of laughter.

All Quinn knew was that her clothing choices couldn’t possibly get any more provocative than they had earlier when she wore the see-through bra and pink pasties. He hoped for a little more restraint with that night’s outfit, perhaps something with a touch of modesty.f

Quinn had forgotten all about the face paint by then; butterflies and rainbows dancing across his face in the candlelight, listening to his girlfriend giggle inside the tent with Alisha. He never heard Tanya’s soft steps as she crept up behind him, glitter bottle in hand.

“What the hell!” Quinn started, a tickle atop his head. He looked beside him and saw Tanya grinning, her pale eyes orange in the candle glow. She was dumping glitter by the droves, covering his head, shoulders, and arms. “What the fuck Tanya!”

“Come on, little buddy,” she laughed, shoving his glittery shoulder. “The sun has set. It’s time to let your true colors out.” 

“What’s that even mean?” Quinn said, standing and backing away from the storm of glitter.

“Oh nothing,” she said, eyebrows dancing. “But don’t you look all sparkly now? Just ready to party, aren’t you?”

“Whatever you say, Tanya,” Quinn was annoyed, “maybe just take it easy with all the modifications.”

“Speaking of which,” Tanya eyed his outfit, “you aren’t actually going to a rave dressed like that, are you?”

“I mean, what else am I gonna wear?” Quinn said incredulously. “This is what I have. This and more like this. I didn’t know that raves had some sort of fucking dress code, Tanya. Sorry!”

“Oh my, is Mr. Little Man getting upset?”

“Stop calling me little man, Tanya!”

“Hey hey hey. Come on now, Quinn. We’re friends, remember? At a once in a lifetime festival and supposed to be having fun friends? Yes? I’m just busting your chops, buddy. Seriously, I'm sorry.” She came to where he was standing under the canopy and took his hand, leading him back to a camping chair. Sitting Quinn down, Tanya planted her fat, muscular booty right in his lap, adjusting for comfort. She wore tight-fitting spandex shorts that showed off her hard-bodied physique, along with a sparkling silver bra serving as her top for the evening.

Quinn stiffened with nerves as she adjusted in his lap.

“Look, I get you’ve never done stuff like this before,” Tanya peered into his eyes and Quinn fell into hers, “there’s a first time for everybody. I’m just trying to make sure you get the full experience. These festivals aren’t just about music and dancing with your friends. They’re about finding yourself. Exploring. Get what I’m saying?”

Quinn nodded, all too aware of what she was sitting on. Squishing.

“So if you didn’t bring an outfit, it’s no sweat! I come prepared for every occasion. We can doll you up easy as pie.”

“You-you mean like some pants or a shirt I-I-I- could wear?” 

Quinn’s sunbaked mind fired on all cylinders, totally unprepared for Tanya’s show of affection. Dimly he could hear Layla and Alisha, still inside the tent, still giggling a thousand times a minute. But all that existed for him was Tanya’s juicy, powerful ass squishing his struggling erection, and the moment it became hard enough for her to really register it-

She was up and off him. 

“Something like that,” she answered, “but maybe something a little more bold. Something brave! I’ll be right back!”

Quinn watched her butt bound off to her tent, watched as it disappeared inside. He breathed at last, adjusting to hide the rock in his shorts.

The zipper on Alisha’s tent went down and the girls shuffled out. 

“Fairy Ravemother is not ready for us tonight!” Alisha exclaimed, twirling into the canopy dressed in rave attire. Black fishnet lay over a black bra, her milky tits an ocean of cream. A tiny black skirt fitted at her waist, gold hoops hanging from belt loops. “And may I introduce Layla Moon, the hottest girl in the entire damn festival!”

Alisha twirled out of the way and Layla walked into the canopy topless.

Or at least, she looked topless. 

Adjusting his eyes Quinn realized that while she was indeed without a top, parts of her breasts were covered. Two black strips of tape made an X on both tits, hiding her slight pink nipples from the world. Outside of the tape her tits hung free and wild, perky but huge, heavy but youthful. 

“Ummm. Aren’t you like, forgetting something?” Quinn felt the words leave his mouth.

“What do you mean?” Layla was puzzled.

“I mean like…are you going to wear a shirt of any kind?”

“Babe, this is the outfit,” she assured him. “It’s a music festival - hello? Everybody’s dressed like this. Why do you have so much glitter on?”

Aside from the X’s in the center of her sprightly tits, Layla wore a black mini-skirt with Look Don’t Touch written along the side. Fishnet stockings that matched the tape ran from thigh to ankle. 

“Is that all you’re going to say?” she said, annoyed. “Not hey you look good babe, not nice outfit babe, just - where’s your shirt?”

“I’m sorry, Layla. You obviously look amazing…”

“Thank you, baby,” Layla softened. 

“But it’s just kind of revealing. Like, really revealing…”

“It’s just for the weekend, would you stop already?”

“Sure…sure…”

“HERE WE GO!” Tanya came zipping back into the canopy like a bat out of hell. She held some small articles of clothing in her hand, hard to make out exactly what in the low light. “I dug and dug but I think I found some stuff that might fit you, Quinn!”

“Huh?” Layla said quizzically, her unhindered breasts moving just so.

“Quinn said we could change up his outfit,” Tanya smiled, “didn’t you Quinn?”

“That depends on what you got, Tanya,” Quinn eyed her clothes warily, “none of those look like they will fit…and they don’t look like their men’s.”

“Don’t be so rigid in your thinking, Quinny!” Alisha strutted over in black leather and fishnets, her red hair a stark contrast against the steamy clothing. “I’ve worn men’s clothes tons of times! And I saw so many hot guys today wearing gender neutral stuff.”

“So what if it’s a little tight?” Tanya added. “It’ll still be better than what you’re wearing now.”

Quinn considered his plain clothes for the hundredth time that day, a little tired of feeling stupid about them. 

“Let’s at least see how you look in them first,” Tanya placed the clothing down in his lap, right where she’d sat earlier. “I mean, do you see Layla? How fucking hot she is?”

Quinn looked. He saw. Layla was on fire, no question.

“Yeah, you see,” Tanya chuckled. “So do her some justice and don’t show up to the party dressed like a cop, OK? Take those clothes, go put them on.”

The girls stared down at the boy in the chair, eyes expectant. Tanya had the look of Dr. Frankenstein when his monster came to life. Alisha was supportive, gentle. And Layla, well Layla held that same cold gaze, the one Quinn couldn’t decipher. 

Quinn could hear the girls snickering and whispering while he changed in his tent. He couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, but he knew he heard the words “glitter” and “girly” at least a few times. Once by Layla no less.

Without much light in the tent to go by, Quinn adjusted the shorts the best he could and pulled the small t-shirt on over his head. His mind raced with jealousy, with anticipation, terrified of the thought that Layla would be going out into the festival that night dressed the way she was. People would have their phones for God’s sake! How many festy asshole alphas were going to be snapping photos of her? Basically topless! 

Quinn stepped back into the canopy with his mind elsewhere. 

“Oh my,” Alisha snorted, as if by accident. “It’s certainly different…”

“It fits you better than I thought,” Tanya’s fiendish eyes were all alight, “why don’t you turn around?”

Layla didn’t say anything at first, her mouth parted in shock, blinking ten times a second. 

The shorts were clearly for a girl, so short and tiny it might as well have been a thong, except the back of them did a good job of covering Quinn’s flat ass. The shirt was a black cutoff, only enough to cover Quinn’s torso past a few ribs, his entire soft belly revealed. 

Suddenly, seeing the way the girls were staring at him, Quinn became all too aware of the face paint, all too aware of the glitter covering his hair and face and body. He looked down at the little shorts, at the crop top - what was he thinking?

“You really let Tanya get her paws on you, huh?” Layla rolled her eyes as if this was old news. “I told you she’s a tricky one, Quinn!” She shot her friend a smirk and they giggled together. And though Quinn was sure they were laughing at him, at least Layla was smiling again. 

“I think it fits you well, Quinny,” Alisha said, standing and circling him. “A little too much room in the butt but that’s OK.”

Layla and Tanya snickered together; Quinn felt like a zoo exhibit.

“Make sure you suck in a little!” Tanya laughed. “And don’t get an erection staring at Layla’s tits - your huge dick would probably burst right out of those shorts!”

This sent Layla through the roof, guffawing loudly, clutching her bare, soft stomach. 

“I’m not sure how a dick could even fit into those,” Tanya continued, “but I guess it’s a little chilly out, so we’ll forgive you.”

Now Alisha was laughing too, joining the two of them in riotous joy. Quinn felt his face get hot, felt his penis shrivel against the denim. He turned, walking towards his tent, determined to change out of the ridiculous outfit.

“Don’t Quinny!” Alisha half-moaned, running up behind him and wrapping her arms around his bird chest, pushing her soft tits right into his shoulder blades. “Tanya just plays rough, don’t let her get to you! I think you look really nice. You’re getting in touch with your other side! The other you! You’ve got to test things out on your spiritual journey. It’s better than not trying at all! Isn’t that right, Layla?”

“Oh sure, sure,” Layla tried to pull herself together, a tear running down the side of her face. “Got to test it out. The clothes fit well, honey. Should be perfect for dancing tonight…”

“I’m changing,” Quinn said defeated, but not pulling himself from Alisha’s grasp.

“It’s too late to change,” Tanya said, standing up. “Unless you want us to leave you here, but we are not missing the start of DJ TapThatAss’ set. We need to get a good spot before it gets too crowded.”

“I guess we better leave,” Layla said, eyeing her boyfriend’s clothes. “Just stay between us three Quinn, maybe nobody will notice…”

“Nobody will notice what?” He asked, watching Tanya and Layla walk off into the night together. “Nobody will notice what!” 

“There there, Quinny,” Alisha said, close enough for his arm to rub against her chest. “It’s just some first night nerves. Everybody’s a little tense. It’ll even out soon when we get to the rave…when we get to dancing.”

Quinn followed Alisha’s dazzling fire-tinged hair out of the canopy, and soon the four of them were off to the festival grounds.

Things were different now, at night. The endless rows of variously colored tents became a sea of LED lights and strobes, electric lanterns scattered across the mesh forest to light the way for campers trying to find their way back. Except, at that hour, not a soul was staying at the campgrounds. They marched in droves toward the mainstage, ready for the first major act of the weekend- the first rave.

Quinn did his best not to seem uptight or worried about Layla’s outfit or lack thereof, being thankful at least that it was darker now, and maybe not every single guy they passed would notice her rounded, honey-soft tits.

“Let’s grab some pops really quick,” Tanya said, veering off from the mob as it moved towards mainstage- already swathed in blue and pink and purple lights, house music blaring, the crowd waiting with bated breath for the evening’s first DJ. 

They came to a quaint food stand called Molly Pops where the man behind the counter had a small mustache and a big smile. 

“Four molly pops, senor,” Tanya held up 2 fingers on each hand. 

“Anything for the beautiful ladies,” he replied in hurried English. 

“Hear that, Quinn?” Tanya turned back to the group with a chastising grin, “you’re a beautiful lady now.”

“I don’t think he was talking about me,” Quinn said, trying to find his voice in front of Layla. He kept feeling her eyes on him, roaming his body, judging him. There was always the chance it was all in his head, but he couldn’t help but notice the general lack of affection she showed when they were out of the campsite.

The pops came; rainbow-colored popsicles about eight inches long, quite clearly and directly in the shape of an erect penis. The mushroom head was made of chocolate, the rest hard candy.

The girls took theirs giggling, but Quinn just stared at his.

“Go on, Quinny,” Alisha said, lapping at the sugary shaft, “take a lick.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it,” Layla giggled, her eyes dancing across Quinn’s short t shirt. 

“Um. Hmm. I don’t know about this I’m not really in the mood for candy.”

“No, but you’re about to be,” Tanya’s eyebrows moved mischievously, and she procured a small plastic baggy from the left breast of her silver bra. Inside was a pinkish, dusty powder that filled the silver dollar sized bag to the brim.” 

“Is it that time?” Alisha asked, rosy cheeks beaming.

“Just a little for Quinn, OK?” Layla said, sticking dick-pop out towards Tanya. “He’s never done it before so go easy on him!”

“Done what before?” Quinn eyed the bag, watched Tanya bring it to Layla and Alisha’s popsicles and pour some of the powder out along the candy cock. 

“Ecstasy? Molly?” Tanya dangled the bag. “Stick out your dick and try some!”

“What’s it do?” He asked, reluctantly offering his popsicle penis up to Tanya. 

“It makes you dance,” Alisha’s tongue lapped up the chemical, deft and precise. “And it will help open up your third eye, too. Help you see the beautiful butterfly you’re turning into, Quinny…”

“Just go easy,” Layla said, watching Tanya dump more than “easy” out onto his pop. Quinn brought the chocolate head of the candy to his mouth, eyeing the powder on the tip.

“Well go on,” Tanya urged, “try it, little guy. Let’s see if we can turn you into a festy bro yet.”

Quinn made eye contact with Layla, and he was sure he saw something like pity there. She nodded at him like it was OK, that he could do it. He considered how silly he must look, standing there dressed that way holding a popsicle shaped like a prick, glitter in his hair and flowers on his face. 

“You only live once, right?” Quinn said to the girls and the three of them lit up with smiles and excited eyes- it was the best he’d felt all day. “Bon appetite!”

The last thing Quinn remembered, the one image that would stay with him through the rest of the night and well into the morning, was Tanya’s smoky eyes, the way they stared at him with such intention. 

He came to in the center of a crowd, dancing like he was covered in bugs, surrounded by thirty thousand people moving and swaying in time to the deafening music coming from the stage. Quinn himself wasn’t dancing so much as he was floating and spiraling, turning slowly and taking in his overpowering surroundings. All of his senses were on fire; the music was warm and thick on his ears, the heat of the bodies around him a cozy campfire, the smell of marijuana and sweat so earthy and herbal, the colors on stage an evolving symphony of euphoria. 

In the center of the stage a strikingly tall man stood behind a pair of turntables, his skin so inky in the lightshow that it was as if he were made of pure shadow. An LED sign behind him flashed his name in red: DJ TAPTHATASS.

Where were the girls? How did he get here? 

He thought hard on those questions. The last thing he recalled was eating drugs off a popsicle and then some walking and then…this. Suddenly he was a tiny cog in a machine the size of the biggest music festival in the country. The music was shaking deep in his stomach, and the first tinges of panic set in as he realized he had zero idea where his girlfriend was.

“QUINNY!” 

He looked around and fifteen feet to his right, mostly covered by moving bodies, was Alisha. Her pupils were the size of dimes and she motioned him to come over.

“Thought we lost you there for a second, little buddy!” Tanya pulled him into their area as soon as he got close. “We’ve been looking for you!”

“You have?” Quinn said, dazed, feeling like a million dollars but also really fucking confused. “Where’s Layla?”

Alisha threw side-eyes at Tanya and Quinn caught it. With no way to decipher what the look could mean in his current state of mind, his eyes fell on Alisha’s tremendous, pale tits below the black fishnet and bra. He had a hunch that the drugs he’d taken were starting to exaggerate his perception, because Alisha looked a beaming Goddess, something landed from Heaven itself. The way her tits pressed against their restraints, overflowing, demanding…it was like they were calling to him.

“Where’s Layla?” He repeated, dumbfounded, so obviously staring at Alisha’s chest.

“She’s um…” Alisha tucked a finger under his chin and pulled his eyes UP. 

“Making new friends,” Tanya giggled.

Quinn looked and saw Layla just a few bodies down, but she wasn’t dancing. She was locked in intense conversation, speaking with her hands so much that her soft and swollen breasts never stopped jiggling. Beside her, lanky and tall, was a black guy dressed in a pair of blue jeans. His chest was broad and cut, his abdomen so obviously curated for the occasion. 

Staggering jealousy erupted in the pit of Quinn’s soul and, mixed with the molly, seemed to have a massively confusing effect on him. On one plane his girlfriend was topless, ignoring him and talking to a handsome stranger. On the other, each of them was going through their own unique experience and it wasn’t fair for him to try and tell her what to do or who to talk to. Right?

He was screaming inside as he walked over to her, two realities fighting in his head…and perhaps paranoia reigning king above all.

“Layla…Layla!” Quinn raised his voice the second time, a high-pitched yelp over the rumbling bass of the black stranger. 

“There you are!” Layla smiled dreamily, her green eyes coursing through with energy. “I thought maybe you’d gotten scared off back to the campsite!”

“Nope. I’m here…who is your friend?” Quinn gazed up at the looming black guy, unable to ignore the sculpted definition of his body under the current circumstances. The man was staring at Layla, hadn’t even noticed Quinn.

“This is Darnell,” Layla bit her bottom when she said it. “We were just talking about music…”

Quinn watched the two of them standing far too close together. Layla’s chest changed colors under the litany of lights, her supple mounds of flesh pink one moment and amber the next. She kept looking up at Darnell, seeming to notice Quinn less and less.

“Yeah so about that VIP show,” Darnell said, never acknowledging Quinn’s presence. “It’s tomorrow and Saturday night and I can definitely get you and your girlfriends in…not so sure about the shrimp though,” he cocked his head at Quinn, but his eyes never left the girl. “There’s an afterparty tonight too in the Artist Campground, but that’s late night. Not sure if you’re up for that.” Darnell chuckled deep, inching closer to her, his gaze ravaging.

“Could you get us all in for tonight, maybe?” Layla looked up at him, batting her eyelashes.

“Like I said, you and your hot friends for sure. But not the little dude.”

It suddenly occurred to Quinn that Darnell was talking about him when he used words like “shrimp” and “little dude.” The man was actively fucking Layla with his eyeballs while talking shit about her boyfriend. Suddenly rage replaced his jealousy.

“You’re probably gonna go to bed early tonight anyway, aren’t you baby?” Layla’s face was calm, floating passivity. Pure relaxed beauty, not a care on her blonde head.

“What so you can go to this Artist party thing?” Quinn fumed over the blaring music. 

“He said he can only get the girls in, baby, it’s no big deal. We’ll go for a little and then we can meet back at the campsite…” 

Darnell wasn’t listening, too high above the short people to hear them over the blaring music.

“We came to this thing together, Layla,” Quinn tried to speak through the waves of emotions billowing in his brain, “we should be dancing and having fun together…and here I find you with some other guy making plans without me…”

“Baby you disappeared on me, you silly goose. Not the other way around,” Layla’s voice was soft like cream, almost melodic, her angelic tits shuffling as she pointed. “We can still dance…have fun…”

Darnell had his phone out and it was clear to Quinn that he was just pretending to be texting. The camera lens on the back of the phone hovered perfectly over Layla, clicking off God knows how many pictures of her black-tipped tits.

Quinn wanted to call him out on it, make him stop, but how? Darnell was twice his size and jacked.

“Why don’t you head on back to the campsite and get some sleepy, honey,” Layla’s dreamy eyes implored him, the green all but blacked out by her pupils. “We won’t be out too late, I promise…”

Quinn had heard enough.

“Why can’t I come? Or why can’t you hang out with me, Layla? I’m your BOYFRIEND after all!” He made sure to make that word louder, flashing his dilated pupils at the giant above them. 

“Wait a minute,” Darnell put his phone back in his pocket. “Boyfriend? Motherfucker you mean to tell me you ain’t gay?” His face was disbelief. “Why the fuck you dressed like that!”

The day’s events came crashing in on Quinn in that moment, and he remembered everything all at once. The face paint, the glitter, the fucking outfit. He looked down – the little shorts clung to his sweaty thighs, his pale belly and ribs revealed below the short tank t. And the glitter, all that glitter flashing and sparkling in the stage lights.

“What kinda boyfriend is this?” Darnell started laughing. “Some kind of sissy shit? You make him wear panties too?”

For a moment Layla looked as if she might try and explain the events that had led to Quinn’s new look, but then the look was gone and replaced by an open-mouthed grin as she exploded into riotous laughter.

“That’s fucking funny,” she pinched her eyes closed, guffawing breathless. “Oh my hahaaaa-haha!”

Quinn tried to find the words, a way to stick up for himself, but he felt like such a colossal joke that anything he said would only heighten the hilarity. Soon the music from the stage seemed quiet underneath their combined laughter, and Quinn stood there stupidly as Darnell put an arm around Layla.

“Little man talking about boyfriend, hahaha!” Darnel hugged Layla close, the sides of her swollen breast thrusting against his obliques. “You can be for real!”

Quinn looked at Layla, she grinned wildly. This was her chance. To speak up and set the record straight. To tell this stranger the truth. They were a COUPLE for God’s Sakes!

“Don’t look at me like that baby,” her eyes drifted here and there, “Darnell’s just a friend. A new friend I made here at the festival…”

Quinn reached out, took his girlfriend’s swaying hand in his own.

She slid it back, like a snake into a bush.

“Layla?” Quinn’s confusion and disbelief were colliding, he wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. “Layla can we go talk?”

“Hmmm?” Layla was more than a little gone, walking on clouds, rolling her ass off.

“Layla I said –

“Come this way, Quinny,” Alisha’s soft voice in his ear suddenly, taking him by the arm, pulling him away from Layla. “I wanna dance with you, cutie…”

“And have some more of this,” Tanya was beside him, cutting off his view of Layla, shoving her pinky finger into his mouth and rubbing it against his tongue.

Chemical taste, like the popsicle earlier. 

The girls had him separated and he couldn’t see her anymore, and soon they were dancing around him, on him, Alisha’s sensitive, budding breasts against one side and Tanya’s toned ass on the other. 

The second dose of the drugs kicked in right when Quinn realized that Layla was gone. So was Darnell. And in his vulnerable state he drifted off from Alisha and Tanya, searching, looking, calling out her name like a fool as he wandered the audience dressed like a girl. They were no where to be found, and the more he looked the more he began to panic. 

Is she cheating on me? OF COURSE NOT! Layla would NEVER…but she did leave with that Darnell guy! And how do you know that? Did you see them? She probably just went to the bathroom…

“LAYLA! LAYLA!” He couldn’t find her.

Eventually Quinn blacked out. And when he awoke in the tent the next morning, he was alone.

DAY 2

Quinn’s head hurt no matter how much water he drank. It was almost 10 O’clock in the morning and it was hot already, humid even under the canopy where he sat slouched and waiting. He was back in his own clothes, and at least that was a small consolation.

The girls still weren’t back. His cell phone was dead, not that it mattered because Layla’s probably was too. Quinn didn’t have a lot of options. Where would he even start to look for them? Countless miles of random campsites stretched outwards in every direction, and the festival grounds didn’t open until noon.

No, he would have to wait. Sit and wait and wonder about the events of the previous evening.

Things were hazy in his head when he tried to remember everything. He wasn’t sure how he ended up back at the campsite and able to find his tent but thank God for small miracles. Maybe the other girls weren’t so lucky…maybe they were still walking, trying to find the campsite. He remembered Layla talking to that guy, what was his name…started with a D. And then they were gone and then…Quinn couldn’t place it. Maybe he’d seen her again later on in the evening, maybe she’d taken him home before going back out to get the girls and then maybe got lost on her way back and…

Quinn sighed. Unlikely. 

Festival campgrounds are eerily quiet in the late morning, weary partiers resting their heads before another go at it later. Quinn began to drift off to sleep in that spacious silence, dozing off there in the chair beneath the canopy.

“…can you believe that was just the first night…”

Familiar voices on the wind, getting closer, waking him up…

“…I hope Quinny made it back to the campsite OK…”

His eyes opened; his head ticked up.

“…just don’t let something slip about the you-know-what- I don’t want to – HI! Quinn, there you are!” Layla stepped under the canopy with Alisha and Tanya close behind, a tired half-smile across her groggy face. Most of the black tape was gone, one single strip flapping lazily in the light breeze, her pink-hued nipples exposed. She stood there naked except for the black skirt clinging messy and loose to her bony waist. “You wouldn’t believe the night we had!”

Quinn sat up in his chair- the girls looked tired. 

“Where did you sleep last night?” he said soft, hurt.

“Oh baby we didn’t go to sleep,” Layla plopped down in the chair beside him and took his hand, rubbing the back of it tenderly. The other girls sauntered off to their tents, dead-eyed and quiet. “We danced all night at that after party thing and didn’t get done till like an hour ago.”

“The party that guy invited you to?”

“Who? Darius? Or Darnell?”

“Darnell. There’s a Darius too?”

“Really sweet guys, babe, you’ll like them. But I am beat, I’ve gotta lay down if I’m going to make it tonight.” 

Layla stood to leave; Quinn grabbed her hand.

“Your tape…it fell off,” Quinn’s voice shook.

“Yeah so what? Probably from all the sweating. Do I have to say it again, babe? It’s a music festival. We dance and dress weird, right? You certainly did last night…”

“I did? I don’t remember.”

“I’m pretty sure Tanya got it all on video so ask her about it…babe I am bushed. See you in a few hours?”

“Yeah, sure…” Quinn watched his topless girlfriend stumble into tent they were supposed to be sharing, and a few minutes later he heard heavy breathing on the late morning air.

Night 2

Friday night was second the biggest night of the festival. More people, more music, more parties. Quinn and the three girls stood together in line at the Tattoo and Piercing Popup, the festival lit up all around them, the great glowing Ferris Wheel behind, and the mighty mainstage in the distance. 

“Glad I’m finally getting a second wind,” Layla said, standing shoulder to shoulder with Quinn. “I passed out in the tent for hours.” She wore an electric-print crop top with a scooped neckline that put her rich cleavage on full display, and within the top itself was a keyhole cutout, showing even more of the inner curves of her assets.

“Same,” Alisha said, adjusting the butterfly pasties atop her wide, bumpy nipples. A white fishnet shirt draped her shoulders, hiding nothing.  “Much needed sleep and ready for round two!”

Quinn wore his usual t-shirt and khakis. With the girls waking up so late in the day no one had time to protest his fashion choices this time.

“What tattoo are you going to get, Quinn?” Tanya eyed him as they stood in the line. She wore a short skirt made of beads and intertangled LED lights, her top a  rainbow cloth that wrapped her small breasts separately, exposing her breastbone. A brown backpack was fastened to her back, its contents unknown.

“I think I’ll leave the best friend tattoos to the girls,” Quinn yawned, putting a timid arm around Layla’s waist.

“Yeah duh, the girls are getting the best friend tattoos, but what are you getting, Quinn?”

“Maybe you should get a butterfly, Quinny,” Alisha smiled at him, “I think it would look hot on your side. Like your ribs!”

“Sounds painful,” Quinn said.

“Don’t get one if you don’t want one,” Layla seemed to tolerate his arm around her, or at least that’s how Quinn perceived it. Ever since arriving at the festival touching her was like walking on eggshells – he had to be careful not to overdo it. 

“Which one are you three getting?”

“Crows,” Tanya said plainly. “But not you…you need something more appropriate to your current situation…”

“What is my current situation?” Quinn asked.

“Dopey,” Tanya chortled. Layla coughed, attempting to hide her giggle. Alisha the same.

“Not this again,” he said, sighing. “Those clothes you had me in last night were not it, Tanya. I’d rather look like a dork than a freak.”

“But you’re supposed to be letting your inner freak out, Quinny,” Alisha chimed in. “I think Layla would love to see it…”

“Yeah your girlfriend’s got quite the thing for freaks apparently,” Tanya giggled high and fast.

“Would you stop?” Layla suppressed a grin and shoved Tanya playfully.

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Quinn’s paranoia spiked.

“OUR TURN!” Tanya squeaked excitedly, rushing forward to the three parlor chairs inside the Pop-up. The three girls each claimed a chair while Quinn stood off to Layla’s side, watching them haggle with the ink artist. 

Eventually they decided on a design – a crow sitting on a thin branch. It was black ink and didn’t take long, and within the hour all three girls had the same tattoo in different places. Tanya’s on her lower back, Alisha’s on the inside of her wrist, and Layla’s low on her abdomen along the bikini line.

Every guy that passed the pop-up hovered a moment, staring at the three girls, especially the blonde. Quinn swallowed the lump in his throat, watching the strangers gawk at his girlfriend, wishing she’d just cover up already.

“You’re turn, Quinny!” Alisha hopped up, tits jiggling, and pulled Quinn towards the chair.

“No, no, no…” he tried to protest, but then Tanya was at his other side, dragging him.

“We’ll help you pick out something hot,” Tanya assured him, “something that really speaks to the man in you.”

Layla stood there observing, taking note of the way Quinn was easily bullied into the parlor chair. He looked at her expression the whole time, convinced that she was quietly judging him. What did she want him to do?

“Take your shirt off,” the tattoo artist barked, a black girl with dreads and star tats all down her arms. Quinn pulled the shirt off self-consciously, all too aware of his doughy frame as he sat back against the chair. “Where you want it?”

“I um, uh, I’m not sure I want it all I –

“Oh he definitely wants one,” Tanya persisted, flipping through a nearby book of sketch examples. “I think it’s going along his side, ribs to hip…”

“That sounds way too big,” Quinn looked concerned.

“You want one or not, kid?” The fierce tattoo artist said, narrowing her eyes.

“I…”

Layla stepped closer, sticking her finger out she ran it along Quinn’s side, rib to hip.

“I like the idea,” Layla flashed eyes at Tanya, “I think it would look sexy.”

“You do?” Quinn was perplexed.

“Sure. Lots of guys have them…”

“They sure do,” Tanya stared at Layla with a smile a mile long.

“Well then it’s settled, Quinny,” Alisha leaned across him in the chair, her jugs smacking him in the face as she pointed to a sketch in the book. “That one!”

“Are you sure, Layla?” Quinn asked, full of nerves as the needle touched his skin.

“Sure, baby,” she giggled. “It’s just for fun, right?”

“Yeah but it’s permanent - OW!”

The girls laughed together as Quinn winced and moaned through the duration of the tattoo. By the time the artist was done Quinn was a sweaty, shaking mess, but the work was high quality: A butterfly expanding its wings, running the length of his torso from rib to hip.

Quinn stared at it in disbelief, not wanting to say it but compelled to anyway.

“It looks sort of, like, girly,” he stuttered out. “This is…permanent?”

“I think it’s perfect for you,” Layla tried to keep her composure, giggling in spite of herself. “It’s proportionate at least!”

“A butterfly for a butterfly,” Tanya grinned, “isn’t that right, Alisha?”

“It sure is,” Alisha agreed, “time to go flaunt that thing on the dance floor!”

Eager to cover up his newest mistake, Quinn grabbed his shirt from off the back of the parlor chair and raised his arms up to slide it on. The moment the shirt touched his tattoo he winced – hard.

“Ah!” He tossed the shirt way like it were full of scorpions. “Yikes that hurts! My skin is so sensitive…”

“You’re in luck, little guy,” Tanya slid the brown leather backpack off her back and brought it to her chest, opening it. “I always bring a change of clothes in case accidents happen, as they sometimes do…”

Tanya pulled a white piece of fabric out, a tiny crop top with the word SLUT emblazoned across the front. She held it to Quinn’s bare chest and closed one eye.

“I think it should fit…”

“Nope. No way. No how. Not wearing that!”

“Then put the shirt back on, Quinn,” Layla said matter of fact, as if she was daring him to do it. They met eyes and Quinn saw the sassy fire there, something going on in that brain of hers, some mysterious judgement she’d made to suddenly be so involved in his nightly makeover. Was she pushing his buttons now too? 

“I can’t put the shirt on,” he said, “maybe I just won’t wear one.”

“Nonsense, Quinny,” Alisha took the SLUT crop top from Tanya and approached him with it. “This will be perfect, it’s like tongue and cheek, you know? You’re obviously a guy, it’ll be a bit of comedy to have you wear it!”

“It’s even worse than last night,” Quinn shook his head, “I can’t be seen with that on!”

“It won’t touch the tattoo,” Layla came to his other side, shepherding him toward Alisha with the top. “So we don’t have to worry about any boo-boos for little Quinn.”

“Hey!”

“Lighten up, little guy,” Tanya came up behind him, pushing at his elbows so that he lifted his arms, “we’re just having some fun. Let’s just see how you look with it on…”

Alisha slid the top over his head and situated it delicately around his chest, so the bottom hem didn’t rub against the top of the tattoo. He caught Layla’s look as he wiggled into it with little resistance, and something in her face seemed to scream - AGAIN?

Before Quinn had much time take in his new top the tattoo artist was shooing them from the pop-up. They walked out along a fence on the outskirts of the crowd, where Tanya got back to digging through her little brown bag.

“Those shorts definitely don’t go,” Layla said, laughing a little. 

The massive mainstage loomed in the distance behind her, all lit up in hazy blue. She looked like an Instagram model out of Coachella, and Quinn once again felt intimidated by her beauty.

“Try these out,” Tanya tossed something at Quinn from the bag.

“Oh those are cute,” Layla said, “you and Tanya seem to be the same size, honey. Except of course for her big fat ass!”

“Bitch!” Tanya shot back, giggling.

Quinn held up the red and white plaid skirt, it was absurdly short.

“It’s like one of those things the Irish guys wear, what do you call it?” Alisha looked puzzled for a moment. “A kilt! Yeah! Like a short, festy kilt!”

“It’s not a kilt,” Quinn sighed, “it’s a skirt. A very little one at that.”

“But it goes with your top!” Tanya said. “Come on! Let’s see how it looks!”

Layla came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his bare waist. “I think you’ve been doing an amazing job of trying new things,” she said.

“Well yeah I got a fricking tattoo for God’s sakes –

“And I think that you shouldn’t be so concerned with what everyone else thinks,” she spoke over him, really pushing her swollen tits into his back.

What was she getting at, he wondered. Why go from those concerned, questionable looks to sudden encouragement? Had she made her mind up about him?

“You’re more fun dressed up, Quinny,” Alisha said, “last night you were a dancing Queen!”

Quinn stared at the garment a moment longer before making his mind up.

“Come on, little guy,” Tanya teased, “let’s see it.”

“Where am I gonna change?” Quinn asked, looking around the dark, deserted corner of the field they were in. 

“Here is fine, nobody’s gonna see,” Tanya said. “Layla’s already seen it anyways. Alisha and I can look away. Won’t we Alisha?”

“Oh for sure…”

“Great. Go ahead and get changed – the show is starting soon.”

Quinn eyed the skirt warily, then looked from Layla to Alisha to Tanya. They were very clearly waiting on him, and with every second that passed it felt like his own opinion on the matter mattered less and less.

“OK so…could you guys like, turn around?”

Alisha and Tanya turned their backs to him, they stood shoulder to shoulder, whispering about something. Layla glanced around to make sure they were alone, no strangers walking up, and nodded to her boyfriend to change.

Quinn slipped out of the khaki’s easy enough, folding them and setting them in the dirt. He went to slide into the “kilt” with his underwear still on.

“What are you doing?” Layla raised her eyebrows. “You can’t wear underwear with that skirt your lines will show in the back.”

“Huh?”

“The seams of your little tight whites, Quinn! They will show. You can’t wear them.”

“Did I hear tighty whities?” Tanya snorted. “Guys still wear those?”

Quinn took a deep breath. He calculated the steps to getting his underwear off and the skirt on, accounting for that brief period when he would be naked from the waist down. 

“No looking,” he mumbled, grabbing the waist of his undies and tugging them down. He felt the cool night air against his bum, against his taut, hairless ballsack. He tossed the undies on top of the folded khaki’s and then moved fast to get the skirt on- too fast. As he placed one foot through, he lost his balance and toppled into the dirt.

Alisha and Tanya turned around at the sound of the noise.

Quinn lay there in the dirt, squirming exposed and flaccid, trying to pull the skirt up backwards.

“WAIT!” he shrieked, panicked. “NO LOOKING!”

“Oooohhh,” Tanya said sudden and sardonic, wounding Quinn to his gut. “Oh wow, ok that is…kinda sad, I’m not gonna lie.”

Quinn’s pink two-inches wiggled in his pubic hair like a worm in the dirt as he tried to get to his feet. He saw the exact moment Alisha spotted it, saw the mixture of disappointment and amusement on her face.

“I guess it is kind of chilly out,” she cringed, turning back around and stifling a chuckle. 

“Would you hurry up and get it on, QUINN!” Layla snapped, more than a little embarrassed on Quinn’s account. “Put that…thing away already!”

“I’m trying!”

Quinn hopped around on one foot for a moment longer, attempting to get his leg into the skirt without falling again. And eventually, he did. But the damage was done. He felt the red rash of embarrassment in his face as he straightened the skirt around his waist, felt their harsh stares, their obvious thoughts.

It was hard to look Alisha in the face. She’d seen it. Of course she had. Never mind Tanya, that conniving bitch. Layla knew his secret but now her hot friends knew as well. The simple, sad fact that his dick was so, so small.

The shame of his exposure caused him to move on from the humiliation of his outfit; the SLUT crop top exposing his entire midriff, a plaid skirt barely making it to the bottom of his ass cheeks. No underwear to boot. 

Even with the skirt riding as high it was, there was still little to no chance that Quinn’s meager incher would be exposed again. Not unless he fell, or God forbid ended up upside down. But that was unlikely.

“Night two means round 2,” Tanya’s eyes flashed green in the stage lights. “Time to dip!”  The four of them stood stage left, way left, more dispersed in a neighboring field with more room for them to dance. The typical onslaught of crowd raged on beside them; a sea of young bodies and sweat.

“Phew I don’t know,” Quinn said, watching the three girls dip their pinky fingers into the little baggy. “I did too much last night and don’t remember everything.”

“So do less,” Tanya held the bag out to him. “Just do one.”

Quinn didn’t hesitate, desperately needing something to take his mind off the night’s series of humiliations, and that stinging butterfly tattoo along his side. Before long the four of them drifted further into the throng, deep inside that pulsing energy of crowd and music. Quinn started moving his feet to the music, his hands rising with his breathing, and soon enough he was in his own world, dancing…feeling the music…

“You are the dancing queen, young and sweet…” he whispered under his breath, swaying his hips to the beat and forgetting all about where he was, who he was. He could feel the girls beside him, feel the energy of their dance. He peeped through his eyelids and saw Layla, gorgeous and electric, so light on her feet, her supple mouth singing along. 

“This song sounds so good right now!” Alisha yelled breathless, having her own moment with the song. Her and Layla beside each other, so scantily clad, sweating and breathing and grinding on one another, their arms wrapped around each other’s bodies, tongues and spit…

“Whoa.” Quinn said, his dancing ceasing and that of several others around him, all stopping to witness the two beauties locked in each other’s arms. 

The massive big screen beside the stage changed from a wide view of the crowd to Layla and Alisha making out like two lovers. Suddenly Quinn was staring at the image twice, once in the flesh and once projected a hundred and fifty feet wide. The entire crowd of tens of thousands erupted into cheers at the sight, cheering the girls on, making their embrace that much more passionate.

Only seventeen, Dancing Queen. Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah…

The song seemed like the soundtrack to a movie that the entire Fairy Ravemother festival was watching. Quinn didn’t know whether to feel jealous, aroused, or both. But he was suddenly quite aware of the excitement happening below his little plaid skirt, and for just a moment he felt a grip of fear, wondering if it might be noticeable. 

You can dance… you can jive…having the time of your life!

The big screen stayed with them, not flinching when Alisha’s roaming hands found Layla’s honey-sweet breasts, sliding in through the keyhole cutout in her crop top and massaging her bare. The racket of the crowd was almost deafening at that point, the ecstasy kissers drawing more eyes than the DJ on stage. 

Ooh, see that girl…watch that scene…digging the dance queen!

Somewhere along the way, between the image of his girlfriend tongue-fucking her hot friend and the drugs coursing through his bloodstream, Quinn became extremely unaware of his surroundings. With so little clothing on already, he only barely registered the sudden, cool breeze blowing against the excitement in his skirt.

His eyes were transfixed on the big screen when it changed, sudden and drastic. 

There, 150 feet wide and under the scrutiny of seventy thousand people, was a three-and-a-half-inch erect penis, sticking straight out below a plaid skirt. A pair of familiar grey eyes in the right-hand corner of the screen.

Quinn looked down. 

“Oh no,” he choked.

HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA – it rumbled through the crowd like a delayed bass drop in a house beat. The distant laughter combined with the very near cackles of the strangers surrounding him…but not just the strangers, Tanya too. And then Alisha, and then…

“Hahaha holy shit, baby!” Layla’s flush face ran with tears. “Would you cover that thing up we’ve seen enough!” She was high and not herself, and what she perceived to be a light joke was a black hole for Quinn’s confidence. 

HAHAHA! HAHAHA! HAHAHA! The crowd roared around him.

The screen cut away after a few moments and landed back on Alisha and Layla. Both were in the throes of pointing and laughing at Quinn when the crowd erupted again into cheers. The girls looked up and saw themselves, a raging twinkle in both their eyes.

Layla and Alisha shrugged and went back at.

WOOOOO! YEEEAAHHH!

Quinn ruffled the skirt down, now forgotten by the crowd except for those surrounding him, still snickering. 

“You gotta be more careful, little guy,” Tanya giggle in his ear, her hand sliding up the front of his skirt and taking hold of his peanut packet ballsack in a vice grip.

“AH!” Quinn screamed, paralyzed. “It was you, wasn’t it? You lifted up my skirt!”

“Relax, we’re all friends here, right? Especially Layla and Tanya. Maybe you could join them if your dick wasn’t so fucking small.”

She let go and Quinn lurched from her, scared.

“Leave me alone, Tanya!” Quinn screeched, and it felt like every face within fifty yards was smiling, taunting him. “Just leave me alone!”

Quinn ran all the way back to the campsite, a two-mile trek in the dark, his only intention being to change out of that damnable outfit and return after to find his girlfriend. But by the time he was out of the skirt he was exhausted, opting to lie down in the tent for an hour and get some rest.

He drifted off to sleep and didn’t wake till morning.

DAY 3

Layla stumbled into the tent beside Quinn sometime in the early pre-dawn hours. Quinn heard her get in, heard her breathes slow and deepen as she fell fast asleep. Her arm came to his side just before she passed out, and though Quince winced as it fell across his new tattoo, he was just happy for the small sign of affection.

Around noon, once everyone was up and alive, the group made for the shower and locker area located in the next campground over. The girls walked over in towels cinched above their breasts and just long enough to cover them below. As strange as it was for Quinn to watch his girlfriend walk through crowds in nothing more than a towel, it still seemed less revealing than most of her outfits so far that weekend.

“We’ll see you after, babe,” Layla squeezed his hand. Alisha and Tanya followed her over to the line for the girls’ showers, one that stretched close to twenty people back. The showers were on a raised platform, individualized like changing rooms. 

Quinn got in line for the men’s showers behind two tall black guys, one with a frazzled afro and the other with braided cornrows. They were both shirtless and toned, and the tall one seemed vaguely familiar.

Quinn eavesdropped on their conversation as the line moved steadily forward.

“Shit got crazy last night at the VIP,” the afro said. “This one white bitch in there was horny as fuck. Like she ain’t caught a dick all summer!”

“I seen her, too! Did you get a piece of that yet?”

“Thursday, I did for sure. Kept her up all night. But last night she was busy with DJ Coo Coo, don’t think he kicked her out the green room till 4 am.”

“Ha. Probably stumbled home to her boyfriend!”

“Hahaha, yeah! No doubt. Pretty sure one of her friends said she had a man.”

“Hahaha. Typical white girl.”

“You know that’s right.”

Quinn wondered if it was intuition or paranoia tugging at his heart strings. There were literally tens of thousands of girls at the festival. Why would they be talking about her? A silly thought he decided. 

“Oh shit, for real?” The afro spoke up surprised. “Damn yo I think that’s her right there! Yoooo.”

“Oh you know it is! Look at them titties!”

Quinn inched his face out of line and looked at the girls’ line across the platform. Alisha and Layla were talking idly while Tanya flipped through her phone. Suddenly his stomach seemed sick, like he might lose it right there.

But then again, it could be Alisha they were speaking about. Or it could be none of them. A simple case of mistaken identity.

“You know what bro?” the afro said, turning his head and smiling at his friend. “I’ll be right back!”

“Ha! You do you Darnell!”

Darnell. It came back to him quickly. Thursday night. The one hitting on Layla.

Quinn watched him step out of line just as a fresh row of showers opened up on the platform. The men standing behind Quinn shuffled forward quickly, spurring him forward even though he was trying to see where Darnell was going. 

When Darnell reached the girls’ line, he started chatting with someone but Quinn didn’t have a chance to see who. The restroom attendant was pointing and directing people to their showers, impatient and irritated.

“Move it or get out of line sir!”

Startled, Quinn hurried toward the shower with his tote bag in hand. On the back of each door was a hook where you could keep clean clothes to retrieve after the shower. He hung the tote bag there and stepped inside, hanging his white towel over the top of the high door.

The water was tepid and low pressured, but it was refreshing none the less. Quinn raced to wash down as quickly as he could, possibly intercept Layla before she got to her shower and confirm that it wasn’t she that Darnell was approaching in line.

Thursday I did for sure…Kept her up all night…

That of course was the night Layla didn’t come home. When she stumbled into the canopy the next morning like a starving zombie. But wasn’t that also the norm for a festival like this? To stay up all night, young and free, dancing your youth away? The paranoia in his gut was a snake, his hope for Layla a cunning rodent. They fought constantly but no one ever seemed to kill the other.

Then, just faintly enough, Quinn heard something. Something like voices, small and hollow. He looked down. The drain was wide and poorly grated, he watched the water pour through it and then on que, that same eerie sound coming from below.

Quinn cut the faucet. He got down on the floor, the one that had housed God knew how many dirty festival feet so far that weekend and put his ear to the drain. They were clearer now, the voices, and the words were easier to make out.

“Mmm. That’s it girl. Work that dick. No hands. That’s it. Good girl. Mmm. Even better than the other night!”

The voice was tiny and dull through the labyrinth of pipes connecting the showers, but it most definitely belonged to the giant black man from the line outside. Darnell. And he didn’t sound like he was alone. Underneath his words and the pattering water was another sound, something also wet and constant, but more squelching and sucking.

“Good white girl. Lick on my balls, too. Don’t forget the balls. Mmm, like that. Clean em’ real good, baby…”

Quinn’s mind raced, the paranoia snake coiling around its prey, choking the life out of it. 

“Damn you take it deep girl…fuck that’s good. Hold it…hold it…mmmm fuuuuuck!

Someone was coughing, catching their breath. It sounded feminine, soft and throaty.

“Oh I’m gonna fill that pretty little mouth with this hot cum. You ready for it baby? You gonna swallow it for me? Mmmm. Good girl. Keep sucking…”

Quinn panicked, certain and not certain that it was Layla in the shower with Darnell, sucking his soul right through his cock. Quinn reached at the door, clamoring for his towel so he could go outside and get his dry clothes.

Gone. 

“What the?” He was certain he’d hung it there. He checked the floor, peered underneath the door to see if it had fallen on the other side. No luck. The towel was gone.

Clearing his throat, Quinn cracked the shower door and snaked his arm out the side to try and reach his bag hanging on the opposite side. He could just touch the side of the bag with his fingertips, but he just wasn’t lengthy enough to reach it without stepping out of the shower.

“Fuck,” he whispered, starting to panic. Quinn peeked through a crack in the door to see who was at risk of seeing him. The lines met at the end of the platform, where the restroom attendant stood directing people to showers. A group of men and women were idling there, waiting, eyes trained on the doors.

“Fuck,” he said again, realizing his options were limited.

“Hold still baby. Take it deep, good girl. Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum. UUUUGGHHH! SWALLOW IT GIRL! UUGGHHH!” It wasn’t just from the drain anymore. With the door cracked open an inch you could hear it loud and clear from one of the other showers on the platform. People were starting to notice.

The folks gathered at the head of the lines were chuckling, casually looking around for which shower the sound could be coming from. The attendant pretended not to notice. Quinn figured this was his best chance to step out and grab the bag from the other side of the door so, bracing himself, he made his move.

As he slid out and around the edge of the door his entire body was exposed in the sunlight. The paleness of his skin was like a reflector on a bike, grabbing the attention of everyone on the platform. He just wasn’t quick enough to get the bag gracefully and unnoticed.

“Holy shit did you see that guy’s dick!” a man at the front of the line guffawed.

“Not really,” a girls’ voice, relaxed and bemused. Laughter moved through the small crowd gathered there on the platform.

“Are the showers really that cold?”

“Maybe that guy should be in the other line.”

Hahaha…

Back in the safety of his shower Quinn tried to shrug off the heckling and get dressed. The sounds from the mystery shower had died down, but a low, murky voice still floated up through the drain in the floor.

“Goddamn girl. You real talented. Hope I see you at the VIP again tonight?”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK -

“Sir you’ve been in there long enough!” the bathroom attendant bellowing on the other side. “Time to move on!”

“Coming!” Quinn shouted, hastily opening his bag, and digging out the fresh clothes he brought. Confusion slowly crept into his face as he rifled through the clothing.

His clothes weren’t there. 

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, voice high in disbelief. The clothes were small, pink and black. A mess of strings and ties. His heart raced. Where were his clothes?!

“Tanya.” Quinn said it soft and afraid. “Fucking…Tanya…” Of course she had. The towel too. He would have smiled at the devilishness of it all if it were not for his mounting panic. 

He laid the clothes out along the shower floor. 

The bottoms were black lace, like panties and a short skirt rolled into one. A very obvious lacey cup was situated at the crotch. It was completely see-through. And roomy. Pink bows adorned either side of the crotch pouch.

The top matched in color and material; a bra, plain and simple. That was all that was in the bag.

“No no no!” Quinn repeated in a hushed scream.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Hey buddy I said move it or lose it! Get out here already!”

Quinn felt like curling up into a ball and crying. Or better yet, shrinking small enough to go down the drain and disappear forever. What could he do? What were his options? 

Did he really have any? 

If he walked out there naked there’d be a fresh group of people waiting to laugh at him. If he wore this, this monstrosity, the results would be the same. What difference did it make now?

KNOCK KNOCK -

The shower door swung open and Quinn stepped out hurriedly.

“What the hell?” the attendant squinted. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Quinn swept past the attendant, speed-walking with his hands over his crotch. His little worm bouncing inside the lacey cup, the bra itching his chest and shoulders.

“Hahaha whoa! Look at this guy!” a red-haired stranger shouted, pointing at Quinn. “Is this some kind of joke!”

Quinn tried to push past the laughing people in line, but someone grabbed his bra strap and snapped it. Hard. His hands came away from his crotch as he reached for the pain.

“Hahaha! Nice panties, fag! HAHAHA!”

People crowded him, their phones out, videoing and taking pictures. Quinn spun on his feet, looking for an exit.

  “Are those made for guys?” one bystander laughed. “It’s got a cup for his little dicklet and everything!”

“That’s sissy wear. The kind they sell at the porn shop,” a girl added. “You don’t wear those unless you’re familiar with the lifestyle.”

“Stop! Let me through!” Quinn pushed against them, finally weaving a thread wide enough to slip through. He ran down the stairs, past the two lines of people, heads turning to witness his shame. 

There, waiting just a few yards off were the girls. They stood chatting…and further out, walking away from them, was Darnell and the other man from line.

“Can we please go now,” Quinn spat quickly, walking up on the girls suddenly.

“I see you found your outfit,” Tanya giggled. “How’s it fit?”

“Fuck you, Tanya!”

“Oh baby,” Layla’s eyes widened and she scoffed, disbelief and amusement across her face. “That’s just…wow…I don’t even know what to say…”

“Tanya did it!” he plead. “She took my towel and switched my clothes out!” He stood there whining in his bra and panties.

“Tanya you are so bad,” Alisha giggled, wringing out her long red hair. “Don’t worry, Quinny. We’ve all seen it at this point. Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not the size of the boat in the ocean, right?”

“Wow,” Tanya guffawed. “You have such a way with words, Alisha!”

“I’m going,” Quinn huffed, speeding out in front of the girls, his white ass sashaying back and forth in the little lacey panties. He heard their laughter follow him back to the tent, the laughter of strangers, too.

Day 3 was off to a great start.

NIGHT 3

Saturday is without question the biggest night of any music festival. The patrons bring their best effort, and the artists try to outdo themselves. At The Ferry Ravemother festival, Saturday nights were some of the biggest parties anywhere in the world. As such, the girls outdid themselves in their preparation.

 Tanya’s onesie was strapless and legless, a mirage of swirling colors that could make you dizzy if you stared long enough. The supple curves of her butt cheeks enticed every manner of passerby, thundering up and down with each step she took. On her back she strapped that damnable brown bag, the one that always seemed to have a spare, humiliating outfit in it. 

That night, the bag was fit to bursting.

Alisha’s fiery hair hung long and straight, just covering her bare breasts to the nipple. The pale flesh of her chest tantalized in the changing lights of the festival, and pink pasties covered what her hair could not. A thong the color of her lips was all that separated her sex from the open air, and she walked like a queen.

“Oh shit I forgot yours, Quinn” Layla said, returning from the Molly Pops stand with only three dick-shaped popsicles. 

“That’s OK,” he said absently, staring at his girlfriend’s body like it were a revelation. He’d seen her wear some provocative outfits in the last few days, but this one took the cake. Mostly body paint and stickies, parts of her body were reflective with the pattern that bedazzled her torso and waist. A spiral pattern of colors and shiny pieces streaked across her frame in waves. Her breasts were covered only here and there, her sex barely a mystery adorned in dark green paint.

If he looked close enough, the pout of her labia was actually visible.

The girls took their pops and Tanya dosed them accordingly with her baggy. 

“Again?” Quinn asked, his eyes roaming across the three girls’ bodies- Layla’s most of all.

“It’s Saturday, Quinny!” Alisha pouted, her nipples appearing between strands of hair. “You gotta do it with us!”

“I’m good,” he said, just happy to have some regular clothing on for once. It may have been his boring old go to, but he was officially done trying to impress or change himself for the festival. In fact, Quinn was relieved it was their second to last day. All he had to do was make it another thirty hours and this strange dream would be over.

The four of them arrived to DJ TAPTHAT ASS early, securing a good spot near the stage. The two massive screens stretched upwards to either side of the mainstage, and Quinn had a flashback to the night before, to his humiliation. He shuddered.

DJ Tapthatass took the stage thirty minutes late but whipped the crowd into a frenzy right away. It was his third time playing that weekend, but the Saturday night set was the one everyone was looking forward to. Rumors abounded that he would be selecting some lucky fans from the crowd to join him on stage, for a view they would never forget.

The girls floated around Quinn in their strange, molly-induced dances. Alisha and Layla’s bare bodies were a constant flood of overstimulation in the stage lights, so much young flesh moving like sex. Quinn even found himself staring at his nemesis’ ass; Tanya’s hard working cheeks so mobile and alive against the beat of the music.

The crowd breathed electric around them. 

Layla turned to him for what seemed like the first time that festival and glided over to her boyfriend. Her dancing arms surrounded him, pulled him close, and she kissed him on the mouth. 

“You’re a good boyfriend, Quinn,” she said, eyes like saucers. “I promise I’ll make it all up to you.”

“Make what up to me?” Quinn kept her gazed, hypnotized by it, forgetting every assumption and suspicion he’d held onto all weekend.

“Tonight you and me are gonna have a little fun in the tent,” she winked.

“You promise?” he breathed, his heart pumping as he stared at the silver paint flecked across her swaying breasts.

“Mmhmm, baby,” and just like that she floated from him again, dancing to her own rhythm.

Maybe tonight was the night. The night his hot festy girlfriend would actually put out. He waved Tanya down immediately and asked her for some of the pink drugs, just a little to get him going, to let him keep up with the girls into the late hours. Because no matter how long he had to stick around, tonight he was not going to bed early.

“I wanna be awake for a while,” he told her. “How much should I take?”

“Here,” Tanya said, running her finger across her wet tongue. She dug it down deep into the little baggy and brought it back up, covered in dust to the second knuckle.

“That seems like a lot,” Quinn eyed her finger.

“Say AH.”

“AH?”

Tanya plunged her finger into his mouth, wiping it clean along his tongue and gums.

“Ick,” Quinn gagged. “Chemically.”

“Mmhmm,” she gazed at him with those methodical gray eyes, biting her bottom lip, always sizing him up. Quinn looked again to the pack on her back, wondering what sort of ridiculous plan she carried in it this time. 

Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t be falling for any of her tricks tonight.

The dancing came on like a tidal wave and soon the four of them were stomping into the second half of DJ Tapthatass’ set with ease. By the time Quinn was officially rolling under the influence of Tanya’s pinky, the big screens held DJ Tapthatass framed perfectly behind his turntables, microphone in hand.

His smile was handsome and 150 feet wide above them as he addressed the crowd.

“What’s up party people!”

The crowd responded strong, their voices rising high into the summer night.

“It’s time to get some of you beautiful people up here dancing with me for this next one!”

WOOOOO! YAAAAAY!

A beat started up, fast and sexy, and the roaming cameras shown the majestic crowd on the giant monitors overhead. 

“Now girls you know the rules,” DJ grinned, “show us those beautiful, gorgeous curves and you get to come up on stage and dance!”

Soon enough, group after group of young women appeared on the giant screens, shaking ass or flashing their supple breasts. Total hysteria descended over the audience as young hormones exploded into a cacophony of sex and youth. DJ Tapthatass invited girl after girl on stage until the mainstage was brimming with twenty-somethings of every shape and size and color.

And then it was the girls. Quinn watched in horror as Layla’s perfect body filled the screen overhead.

“Oh damn I remember that bitch from last night!” DJ Tapthatass shouted into the mic. “You and yah friends get the fuck on stage!”

Quinn, completely forgotten, watched the girls drift away from him, to the barricades up front and up onto the stage with the help of some very handsy security guards. They weren’t on stage five seconds before DJ Tapthatass strutted across, passing every girl in the line, and landing directly on Layla.

“You ready to show the crowd what you got, white girl?” he asked her, his arm sliding around her bare shoulders, hugging her close. Quinn saw the moment her side tit pushed into the DJ’s chiseled torso.

Layla didn’t look nervous, more like in shock. Like seeing the crowd from the stage with her favorite DJ’s arm around her was too surreal to comprehend. She nuzzled his shoulder, humiliating Quinn in a way that he didn’t have the words for.

Soon enough the dance party, the rave of all raves was happening around Quinn, but he stood glued to the ground, staring up at his near-naked love getting danced on by DJ Tapthatass. She pushed her bronzed, soft ass back and into his crotch, she twerked for the cameras, her cheeks and tits flailing madly.

Quinn’s vision was so crisply defined by the drugs he’d taken, and he could see the beads of sweat on DJ Tapthatass’ arms falling and dripping onto his girlfriend’s innocent skin. The songs kept coming and the girls seemed in no rush to leave the stage, and Quinn started to wonder if Layla remembered she had a boyfriend at all.

It’s not like she’s cheating, he told himself. It’s just some fun and dancing. Cutsey grinding on the black guy. Sure, I’m a little jealous. I don’t LOVE it, but it’s harmless. I know she would tell me the same thing!

Quinn didn’t notice it, but Tanya had slithered from the stage and made her way back into the crowd with the help of the security guards. Quinn didn’t see her until she was at his side, running her hands across his chest.

“We’re going to the VIP backstage area after the show, little guy,” she breathed. “Did you want to come?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied desperately. “I’m coming for sure. You can get me in?”

“Not dressed like that,” she raised her eyebrows.

“Well what? Should I go put on nicer clothes or something? How am I supposed to dress?”

“They aren’t letting guys back there, honey,” Tanya’s faux remorse was clear in her tone. “You’re gonna have to go in disguise if you want to hang with us tonight.”

“Oh bullshit, Tanya!” Quinn shouted through the electricity in his brain. “I’m done wearing your stupid outfits. You’ve embarrassed me in front of Layla enough and I’m sick of it. I’m putting my foot down!”

“That’s fine,” she shrugged. “But you’ll be flying solo.”

“Like hell I will. Layla’s my girlfriend, and if I tell her we’re doing something else tonight then she’ll agree. She promised me sex!”

“Oh promised you, huh? That’s so sweet. But I know for a fact when she gets off that stage, she’s walking straight back behind it. You won’t even have a chance to ask her. So it’s backstage or bust for you, little buddy.”

Quinn shook his head, annoyed. Why were his options always so drastic? So weighted? Why couldn’t anything just be easy.

“I’ll talk to the guy,” Quinn said. “What’s his name, Darnell? Tell him I’m with her…”

“Good luck,” she giggled. “If he’ll even hear you all the way up there. He’s like 6’7.”

Once again, Quinn considered his unfortunate options. He watched Layla shake her tits for the camera, heard ten thousand men shout in response. It was the last big night of the festival- was he really going to let her go off by herself?

“Alright…let’s see it,” Quinn accepted defeat at last.

“Don’t look so glum, little buddy,” Tanya said, sliding the bulging bag off her back. “It’s only for a little bit right? I’ll keep your regular clothes so you can change back once you get in.”

“You promise?”

“Would I lie to you, little buddy?”

Quinn took the bag to the porta potty and used what little was left of his phone battery to shine a light in the darkened facility. As he pulled pieces of fuzzy pink clothing from the bag his stomach dropped, like part of him knew this was going to be the worst of Tanya’s little pranks. The bass from the stage shook the world around him and in his mind, he could see Layla still up there, grinding and dancing topless and carefree.

He had to get into that after party. Setting his phone down on the toilet paper dispenser, he began to dress.

The top was strange to begin with; light pink and fluffy as hell, it was built like a bra for a girl with Alisha sized tits…and there was actual tits inside the bra. Quinn inspected it; silicone falsies embedded into the garment itself, filled out and ready to go. Once he had it on, he noticed the sheer amount of cleavage it produced, realistic and fleshy.

He was in the middle of stepping into the hot pink tutu that came with it when Tanya pulled the door open and stuffed herself inside the porta john with Quinn.

“What are you doing!” Quinn asked, shocked and embarrassed, his white penis exposed in the dim light his phone cast.

“Not like I haven’t seen it,” she rolled her eyes, “not like I didn’t know before I saw it.”

“Know what exactly?”

“That you have an extremely small little dick, Quinn. Layla’s my best friend. You don’t think she told Alisha and I both?”

Quinn swallowed a lump of shame, speechless.

“You need to finish getting dressed,” she urged. “Not much left of TapThatAss’ set and I’m sure the girls will disappear backstage once its over. You should see the things Layla is doing on stage with him. Will def be viral by tomorrow morning!”

“Oh Christ…”

“I brought some finishing touches for the outfit. That way you’ll get backstage for sure. Finish getting that skirt and fuzzy boots on. We’re running out of time!”

“What sort of finishing touches?”

“Just move it, Quinn!”

Between the fuzzy bra and huge false breasts, the butterfly tattoo down his side, the frilly tutu and fuzzy raver boots, Quinn wasn’t sure how he could look any girlier. But then Tanya slapped a wig on his head, two braided blondish pinkish pigtails that fell to his shoulders.

“Are you kidding me?” Quinn groaned, watching Tanya pull some lipstick from her left breast.

“You want backstage or don’t you?” she said, applying the makeup to his lips and then moving on to some heavy eyeshadow that matched his insane outfit. Quinn relished those few minutes there in the dark of the porta potty, where only Tanya could see his evolving shame. He knew soon they would be outside, in public, and the thought made goosebumps break out over his body.

Then, from the stage: “ALRIGHT EVERYBODY THIS IS THE LAST SONG! I WANNA SEE YOU DANCE!”

“Come on, Quinn! We’ve gotta go! NOW!”

Tanya thrust the porta potty door open, and Quinn followed her back out into the festival. 

By the time the last song was wrapping up the two of them were stage side, close enough to see Layla and Alisha without the help of the massive screens. Quinn was horrified to see that Layla’s pasties had fallen off her undulating breasts, that her body paint had run and streaked with the sweat coursing off her body. She was a naked mess there on stage, and Tapthatass was all over her.

“You look like your true self at last,” Tanya giggled in his ear. “And don’t look so down. It’s her favorite DJ, Quinn. It’s not like they’re making out, right? They’re just dancing a little!”

Quinn thought “a little” was a bit of a stretch. Layla had her bare ass out behind her, bent at the knees, twerking her cheeks against the very obvious bulge in the DJ’s shorts. Alisha was behind, sandwiching the DJ between them, her own giant tits pressed firmly into his back as she wrapped her arms around him.

“I just can’t wait for Layla to see your newest fit,” Tanya went on, “I wonder if she’ll even recognize you.”

Quinn could feel the makeup on his face, feel the itch of the false breasts against his own chest. The only thing left that kept him at the festival at all was Layla, some desperate attempt to hold on to her even though he could feel her slipping away those past three days. He took solace in the fact that no one would recognize him, that no one would know he was actually a man in women’s clothing.

“THANK YOU AND GOONIGHT!”

It was midnight when Quinn watched his girlfriend walk off stage with the world’s biggest, blackest DJ. 

Tanya led Quinn quickly to the side stage where a barricade prevented anyone from getting backstage. A burly, mustached guard with skin the color of oil crossed tree trunk arms over a barrel chest and dared anyone to try and get past him.

“Hey there handsome,” Tanya said to the guard, flashing her chameleon eyes and standing just sideways enough for him to check out her ass. “I think DJ Tapthatass gave us an invite to join him backstage tonight…any chance you’ll let us girls through?”

The guard looked Tanya up and down, and then his eyes fell on Quinn. His eyes stayed on Quinn.

What is he staring at? Quinn wondered, his body rigid as a board. Why is he looking at me like that?

“We might be able to work something out,” the guard said at last. “But without a VIP wrist band, I can’t let you back there.”

“Oh but sir our friends are back there!” Tanya plead. Quinn said nothing, terrified his voice would give him away.

“I’m sure they are,” the gruff guard smirked, “but to get to them, you gotta go through me. Understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” Tanya winked. “Is there somewhere more private we could talk about this?”

The guard stood up from his stool and Quinn realized in an instant how tall and leering them man was; six foot nine if he was an inch, built to keep multiple unruly festival goers out at a time. He lifted the steel barricade with ease and ushered Tanya and Quinn back. 

A short walk later and the three of them ducked into a private pop-up tent sealed with four walls made of tarp, and a single solitary couch in the middle. 

“You two sit there,” the guard nodded absently, his calloused hands coming to his belt buckle. His black shirt marked SECURITY was tucked into a pair of grey slacks. “Don’t look so nervous, pinky,” he laughed. “Never sucked dick to get what you want before?”

Terror spread across Quinn’s face as he and Tanya sat beside each other on the couch.

“It’s her first time,” Tanya giggled, “so go easy on her?”

“We’ll just see about that,” the guard laughed, walking over to stand in front of the two girls. They were eye level with his crotch as he dropped his slacks to his knees and lifted his shirt to expose himself. 

It hung there between his dark thighs, rotund and swinging, undoubtedly soft but near in size to an adult forearm.

“Staring at it ain’t gonna get yah backstage to see your friends, hehehe,” the guard reached down and snatched Quinn around the back of the head. “It ain’t gonna lick itself, girly. So get to work!”

Quinn tried to pull back, to resist, but the guard’s grip was so strong he barely noticed. He easily pulled the fake girl forward until the flesh of his black manhood was smothering Quinn’s reluctant face.

“And I want you with the fat ass,” he nodded down to Tanya’s smiling face, “I want you servicing my balls. Think you can handle that?”

“I think I can,” she assured him, dipping down below Quinn’s struggling mouth and taking his fat swingers against her tongue.

Quinn could feel Tanya working the man below, and he could feel it growing stiff in his own mouth as the guard shoved it in. Too big and unruly to work with, Quinn flailed against it, stretching his jaw and tasting man meat for the first time in his life. The guard kept grunting and sighing, and somehow that elephantine mass between his legs grew larger.

“Good little festy sluts,” the guard sighed, holding Tanya to his balls with one hand and keeping Quinn still with the other. “Suck it all up. Be good little whores for Marvin. That’s it. Wider bitch, watch the teeth!”

Quinn felt drool spilling from the sides of his mouth as his jaw stretched ever further. He caught Tanya looking up at him from below, laughing at him with Marvin’s left nut in her mouth. The gruff security guard was shoving Quinn as deep as he could and Quinn couldn’t help but gag on it, over and over as it barreled down his gullet.

“AWK!”

“That’s it slut, gag on it. Gag on Marvin’s meat. You fucking love it, don’t you? Anything to get backstage for your favorite DJ. Ha. He gonna have even less respect for you than I do. Oh well. Keep sucking!”

As Quinn struggled and choked to get Marvin down, he felt Tanya’s sneaky fingers running up his own thigh, beneath the frilly pink tutu and right to his rigid, rock-solid little prick. Marvin’s nutsack fell from her mouth as she started laughing outright.

“Oh Mr. Marvin I think this little sissy slut loves your cock,” she teased. “Keep feeding it to her and she might just cum!” Tanya had Quinn’s three inches between her thumb and pointer finger, fast stroking it, greasing the lack-luster shaft with the pre-cum dribbling from the tip. 

“That’s it keep fingering that slut while I fuck her pretty little face,” Marvin said, watching Tanya’s hand move below Quinn’s dress. “Make that little slut cum when I do!”

“Yes sir,” she laughed. Quinn struggled beneath both their grasps, involuntarily trying to pull away from them both at the same time but failing to do so. He couldn’t believe Tanya had discovered his secret and was now using it against him. Why was he so hard? Why was this happening at all?

For Layla, of course. All for his sweet Layla.

Soon enough Marvin had Quinn by both pigtails, forcing as much of himself down his throat as he could, his ballsack convulsing upwards as he began to unload his seed.

“UGH! FUCK YEAH! SWALLOW IT SLUT!”

Quinn moaned and gagged as it spilled into his mouth, dripping out the sides, the pump of the man’s hot cum seemingly never ending. At the same time, Tanya’s careful grip brought Quinn over the edge, and he was shooting his own thin streams against the couch cushions as she laughed maniacally in his ear.

“Hahaha, oh she loves it!” Tanya said. “I just knew she would! Hahaha!”

“UUUGGHH! SWALLOW IT WHITE BITCH!”

Quinn’s eyes bulged wide as he did everything he could to get it all down, but it just wasn’t possible. By the time Marvin let him up for air his chin, neck and tits were stained with the man’s semen. 

Quinn sat there gasping, dripping, covered.

“Ain’t that a pretty fuckin’ sight,” Marvin laughed, stuffing his black anaconda back into his pants. “Another festy slut put in her place. Now you two get the fuck out of here before I decide to the let the night shift have a go!”

“Thank you, Marvin,” Tanya winked, taking Quinn by the hand and leading him shocked and dazed from the tent. 

“What just happened?” Quinn asked, his mind a flurry of post-nut clarity and molly-induced fog. The night was starting to rush at him fast, the minutes ticking by like seconds, the hours like minutes. By the time they entered the crowded VIP area backstage, it was going on four in the morning.

“Look, Quinn,” Tanya whispered, stopping him just short of entering the buzzing party ahead. “We’ve got to find Layla and Tanya and link back up, but I can’t be calling you by your real name here. Understand? We’ve got to have a code name so you don’t get kicked out for being a guy!”

“Um, OK?” Quinn was confusion, looking around the bustling party for his naked girlfriend. It was a sea of black men and white girls, that’s it. Not a single white guy in sight. 

“You’re Quinnallynn now, OK? Quinnallynn…”

Tanya’s voice was drifting in like she was underwater, and suddenly Quinnallynn wasn’t sure of anything anymore. His eyes drifted to a massive, wall-length mirror opposite of where they stood. Black men fondled topless white women, red tongues danced against one another, pale skin mixed with the dark ebony spread across the room.

And Quinnallynn saw herself for the first time. Huge tits in a fuzzy bra, exposed tummy and tattoo, wild pink tutu and matching blonde-pink wig. Shin-high raver boots. Full make-up so neatly applied.

Who is that she wondered.

And then Tanya was leading her into the party. The clock read 5am.

DAY 4

Quinn tip-toed the vast VIP tent in fuzzy boots, eyes roaming and looking for Layla. 

Different DJ’s and masculine rappers filled out the place, with three girls to every guy. Hip-hop music played overhead, the lights were low and sexy, and indistinct chatter filled the room. It smelled like marijuana in the air, a soft fog of smoke moving against the light.

Tanya trailed close behind, keeping an eye on him, Quinn could feel it. He tried to focus on the task at hand- find Layla, take her with him, finally act like a goddamn couple for once. But where was she? There were lots of beautiful blonde topless girls backstage, but none as perfect as his Layla.

In the back of the sprawling tent was a drawn curtain, a whole corner cut off from the rest of the place. If Quinn listened closely enough there were sounds coming from it, grunts and moans only barely discernible over the music. He moved closer to the curtain, the lights here extremely dim to the point that Quinn was standing in mostly darkness.

“Having fun?” A familiar voice from over his shoulder. Quinn turned, and there was Layla. Smiling, staring at him with a look he couldn’t place.

“Layla!” Quinn whispered, not wanting his voice to give him away for a man should one of the security guys here. “There you are!”

“I’m sorry do we know each other?” Layla leaned forward, generally curious. Quinn looked at her pupils- totally dilated. His girlfriend was rolling and rolling hard. 

And with mounting horror, Quinn realized that in her current state Layla no longer recognized who he was.

“Sorry if we met and I forgot,” she said sincerely, “I’ve just been partying like all weekend.” Her breasts were totally bare, smeared with paint, red and green and blue. Her labia clearly visible even in the dim lights of the VIP, and she was for all intents and purposes completely naked.

Quinn nodded his head, too shocked to speak.

“Pretty crazy party, right?” Layla went on, gazing and smiling into her boyfriend’s face. “These DJ’s have pretty large appetites if you know what I mean ha-ha. Have you been to the back room yet?” she nodded at the curtain. “That’s the VIP of the VIP. You only get to go back there if DJ TAPTHATASS picks you. Has he picked you yet?”

Quinn shook his head.

“Mmm, too bad. I’m sure you’ll get a turn. Are you here alone or with friends?”

“Just me,” Quinn feigned, making his voice high and creaky. 

“Well you can hang out with me and my friends if you want! They’re super cool and laid back and love to party. I mean, if you got into this party you’re definitely someone we want to hang with!”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Quinn couldn’t help himself, his stomach dropping lower with every word she spoke. 

Layla paused, thought about it for a second. For a split instance she saw something familiar in Quinn’s face, but then it was gone.

“Kind of? I guess, ha-ha,” she laughed. “Haven’t seen him much and when I do, he’s acting…strange. Like a new side to him I hadn’t seen before you know? So it can be kinda confusing when I’m supposed to be with him but there’s like, I mean you’ve seen, so many hot guys here. And then I wonder if like, would he even mind if I did?”

“Have you?” Quinn squeaked out, holding back tears.

“Have I what?”

Quinn shrugged, expectant. 

“You look really familiar,” Layla peered at him. “Where have we met?”

Words at his lips, stuttering, Quinn tried to think of something to say. Before he could formulate anything intelligible a tall, dark man stepped suddenly between him and Layla.

“There you is, lil’ mama,” said DJ Tapthatass, “been lookin’ all ova’ for my favorite girl.” He was shirtless and in jeans, looming and massive. 

“Hey baby,” Layla bit her lip, staring up. “Here I am.”

“Who’s yah friend?” DJ looked Quinn up and down.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Layla said, “you are?”

“Quinnallynn,” he said, quiet and as feminine as he could make it. 

“Don’t be shy, baby,” DJ said lustfully, “we’re fixin’ to get to know each other real good. I need you bitches to join me in the master, right the fuck now.”

Before Quin knew what was happening, DJ Tapthatass was leading him and Layla to the curtain, past it, where a circular, luxuriously dressed bed waited for them. The sheets were messy and untidy from over usage, and candles cast a dim orange glow on everything.

DJ tossed him on the bed like a rag doll, and Layla flopped down beside Quinn on her back; tits waving across her chest like a pale ocean. The beastly black man stood at the foot of the bed, pulling at his pants button, and yanking his zipper down.

“Which of you two little sluts is getting their guts rearranged first?” DJ asked with a sly smile. It fell out of his waistband like a torpedo into deep water, inky ebony skin with throbbing veins running throughout, his mushroom tip even more inflated than the rest of it, almost asymmetrical- just pure raging cock.

DJ didn’t wait for an answer, he beckoned the two girls forward with a curl of his finger. Layla and Quinn approached by bed top until his club swung inches from their faces. 

“You look nervous,” Layla whispered, “here, let me help you…” 

Quinn’s stomach flipped upside down when he saw his sweet girlfriend take hold of the black mammoth with two hands, lifting it like the holy grail until the oversized tip was puckered an inch from his mouth.

It’s not cheating, he thought in the moment. I’m here with her so it’s not cheating…this is probably her first time too!

“Go on and try it out,” Layla said breathily, “open your mouth and take it…”

For the second time in a few hours Quinn pinched his eyes shut and accepted the man meat being presented to him. DJ Tapthatass was a leaker- from the moment it pressed against Quinn’s tongue the cock ran a steady stream of pre-cum in his mouth, salty and sticky. 

“God I love you little raver sluts,” DJ grunted, his strong hands coming to the back of Quinn’s pig-tailed head. “Always so eager to please your favorite artists…now open that jaw, white girl. Let me get in that throat.”

Quinn did his best to suck it, his panicked brain still uncomprehending of the fact that he was servicing a black man right alongside his girlfriend. He was terrified that at any minute Layla might sober up and realize who he was…

Suddenly Layla’s hands were drifting across his body.

“Good white girl, relax that fucking throat,” DJ grunted, his hips giving short, jagged plunges into Quinn’s dripping gullet. “Let Tapthatass see how much you can handle…”

“You’re sexy,” Layla whispered, her fingertips gliding over Quinn’s fake breasts and down to his bare stomach. His butterfly tattoo was just out of sight at the angle he was kneeling at, but Layla’s hands kept getting lower…and lower…

“Look at your little white girl ass,” DJ said, reaching across Quinn’s body and pulling the tutu up until his pale cheeks were visible.

CRACK!

“OH!” Quinn winced, mouthful of dick.

CRACK! On the other cheek, and he could feel his skin turning red.

“Might need to get in that ass tonight, girl,” DJ said, still fucking Quinn’s face nice and steady. “It looks tight…ever let a black dude in there? No? Well maybe todays your lucky day…mmm…”

Quinn realized how vulnerable he was. One misstep and they would see the truth. His body was actively betraying him, and his emasculated little dick protruded hard and rigid from his crotch, thankfully at an angle that neither Layla or DJ could see.

“It’s so hot watching you suck his cock,” Layla moaned in his ear, her hands still searching Quinn’s body. “You’re a good little cocksucker aren’t you?”

The words made Quinn melt, and as much as he wanted out of there, he couldn’t help but be pushed to the absolute brink by this new side of Layla.

“That’s it, deeper. Suck him deeper. Oh it’s so hot…maybe I’ll have a turn soon…”

Layla was busy whispering sexy nothings when her hands grazed over something small and hard. Like a stone buried in wet sand.

She froze.

Oh no, Quinn thought. Fuck! This is it!

“I tell you to stop sucking white girl?” DJ asked from above, palming Quinn’s skull and driving more of his thickness inside. “Keep on working…”

Layla’s hand came to his tiny rod and palmed it with ease. She squeezed and Quinn gasped through a mouthful of black meat.

“Oh my fucking God,” Layla’s breathy whisper. “Wait a minute…Quinn?”

Quinn glanced sideways at his girlfriend, lips spread apart as far as they could go, the insides of both his cheeks rubbing against ebony cock.

“Quinn…” she said both disbelieving and affirming. “Oh my…”

“What’s going on down there?” DJ asked, still digging out Quinn’s mouth. “Too much talking not enough working. Get on my balls, white girl!”

Quinn watched as Layla’s face was shoved suddenly into the swinging leather sack of black nuts dangling below DJ’s mass. Their eyes met, boyfriend and girlfriend, both completely at a loss for words. And as Quinn bobbed up and down on it, and as Layla’s hungry little mouth worked each of DJ’s nuts, something shifted between them.

Layla giggled and sat up.

“I think you should break little Quinnallynn in,” she said, running her small hand across DJ’s bulging bicep. “I mean look at that little white ass. Don’t even take her little dress off. Just fuck her nice and hard in her pretty little outfit.”

Quinn couldn’t believe his ears.

“Yeah you think so white girl?” DJ grunted. “Maybe you right. It’s about time Tapthatass had some anal this weekend. Not too many bitches can take it up there, let’s see if your friend is any different…”

Suddenly Quinn could breathe freely again with DJ dislodged from his throat. But his heart was still beating out of his chest, and he hadn’t even fully processed what Layla was setting him up for when Tapthatass got on the bed behind him, lifting the tutu further up his back.

Layla’s hand came immediately to Quinn’s tiny package, and she pulled it upward towards his stomach, hiding it from DJ’s view above. Quinn’s entire body shook with nerves, and when he felt his cheeks spreading from behind his breath caught in his throat.

“Don’t worry, Quinnallynn,” Layla giggled uncontrollably in his ear, “it’s not going to hurt too much. Besides, you seem awfully curious to find out. I mean, look at this sexy little outfit you put on to get back here. I knew I recognized you from somewhere…”

And then very quiet, almost too quiet to hear…

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were a sissy from the start, baby?” Layla was talking to her boyfriend now, even as DJ positioned his tip against Quinn’s unflowered opening. “If you like to play this way all you had to do was tell me…”

Quinn opened his mouth to answer her, to deny it all, to try and explain that he’d only done this to find her. But then DJ was pushing, spreading, and Quinn’s whole world exploded into stars and an all-encompassing pressure at his backdoor.

“OOOOHHHHH,” Quinn howled, “FUUUUUUCK!”

 “Fuck this shit is tight,” DJ grumbled from behind.

“Do you like it, Quinnallynn?” Layla’s grin was toothy and a little goofy, her pupils still expanded. “Just try and relax and I’m sure it’ll be everything you dreamed it would be!”

Even in his pained, stilted state of mind Quinn couldn’t help but admire the beauty of her supple, naked body as she caressed his back and helped him through his anal deflowering.

DJ started to grind, to fuck, to plow in and out of Quinn’s tight canal.

“OH MY GOD,” Quinn grimaced, trying to catch his breath. “OH FUUUUCK AHHHH!”

“Hehehe,” Layla giggled in his ear nonstop, “hehehe…you look so funny dressed like this, baby. So silly. It was probably your idea too, huh? Got a little jealous of us girls getting all the attention?”

“NOOOOO! UUUGHHH!” Quinn wailed.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, baby,” she stroked his wig, “I know the truth now. That you really are just a closet sissy…always have been…trust me, it’s relieving to know. I thought maybe I was being a bad girlfriend this weekend, but now I know you didn’t mind at all. You just wanted to join the fun…”

“NOOOO!” Quinn cried in her face, feeling the strength of DJ’s prick as it plowed forth. His thighs shook, his body an immobilized, quivering mess.

“There there, baby,” she laughed, “you’re finally getting what you wanted all along. I’m just happy I could be here to help…hehehe…”

“FUUCK OH GOD OW!”

“That’s it white bitch,” Tapthatass grunted, “just like that. Take that fucking black dick. You know you fucking love it…”

“She certainly does,” Layla laughed, pinching Quinn’s sad hard-on. “I can just feel how excited she is. Pleasure and pain, am I right, Quinnallynn?”

“OOOOHHHH!”

Quinn’s ears rang with his girlfriend’s laughter and the black bull’s lusty grunts. He lay bent there for a long time, until eventually he passed out beneath DJ Tapthatass’ sheer power. The last thing he saw before his world went black was his Layla’s smiling face, her words like knives in his heart.

“I know it’s awfully big,” she assured him, “trust me I nearly had an aneurism the first time he took me…”

NIGHT 4

Quinn came too in the same bed, but the party was over. He sat up, panicky, achy, looking around for Layla.

“Layla?” he asked, voice raspy and hollow in the empty room. Quinn stood up and immediately felt something warm and slow leaking from his ass, he winced. Throwing the curtain back he saw the entire VIP tent was now empty.

He looked at the clock.

8pm. He’d been out for almost ten hours.

I nearly had an aneurism the first time he took me…

Had she really said that? Quinn was pretty sure it was a dream at this point, some imagining he’d had between the waking world and his sleep.

Quinn walked slow and measured through the empty VIP area, his aching butthole seeming to wince a little with each step. Nearby, out on what Quinn could only assume was the mainstage, thundering music started up.

“YALL READY TO PARTAAAAYYY!” DJ Tapthatass on the microphone, tens of thousands in the crowd responding in kind. It was his fourth and final set of the weekend, the one to close out Fairy Ravemother for good.

Eventually, Quinn found himself stage right, standing in the wings and watching the show play out from backstage. It was strange seeing it from that angle; the crowd spanning out across the night, an ocean of human beings swaying in time to the music. The show on the stage itself was as wild as any night so far- DJ Tapthatass behind his turntables, imploring the crowd to move while all around him random women danced mostly naked.

It didn’t take long to spot Layla, Alisha, and Tanya. There was no clothing left on any of them, and they frolicked nude without a care in the world. Layla and Alisha jumped up and down, high and deft so that when they landed the gravity of their breasts was hypnotizing in their chaotic undulations. Tanya’s fat ass jiggled and bounded; her taut tits beaded with sweat.

And nowhere on their faces did it seem that Quinn was on their minds at all.

“WHO READY TO GET FUCKIN’ FREAKY OUT HERE TONIGHT!” DJ Tapthatass shouted, and the crowd screamed in response. There was definitely a different energy in the air, like the whole weekend had been building to this moment, to some final, insane act that would be talked about for years among ravers and festival goers alike.

Quinn was watching the madness unfold, watching his girlfriend lose herself in front of tens of thousands when a cruel hand came to his shoulder.

“Your dicklet is showing, sissy,” a familiar voice in his ear. Quinn turned, looked up. It was Darnell. He was flanked by another intimidating black man, Darius, and they both started at Quinn like a rat in a snake tank. 

“What?” Quinn asked, dazed.

“That little fuckin’ worm between yah legs,” Darnell nodded, “it’s showing.”

Quinn looked down. There amongst his messy pink tutu was a tear, an opening just big enough to show his flaccid penis. He covered it immediately, panicky in his movement.

“This is the fagget Tanya told us about,” Darius laughed. “Said he dressed up to get backstage and find his girlfriend…”

“The blonde with the nice tits?”

“That’s the one…”

“Them titties taste nice too…”

Quinn stared at them, confused, unbelieving. 

“You know you can’t be backstage, sissy boy,” Darnell said. “We gonna have to get you out of here.”

“But my girlfriend,” Quinn said, weak. “She’s on stage and we’re supposed to be together…I lost her for a while but…we’re supposed to be together…” The words failed him, and at last Quinn felt completely broken and wiped. He had nothing left in him physically or mentally.

“Oh we’ll reunite you with your sexy little girlfriend,” Darnell chuckled. “Darius, why don’t you escort this little sissy bitch out on stage while I whisper a word in my boy Tapthatass’ ear.”

“Will do, homie,” Darius grinned, grabbing Quinn suddenly around the arm and neck. “Fix yah wig, bitch boy. It’s showtime!”

In a whirl of light and sound Quinn found himself on stage, the screams and calls of the crowd washing over him like a tidal wave. All around him naked women shuffled and danced and jumped. Overwhelmed he turned to run, but Darius had him by the forearm. He could go nowhere.

“Quinny!” Alisha screamed, recognizing him amidst the chaos. “Isn’t this so great!  And look at you! You finally found yourself! The transformation is complete!” Her sweet, pale breasts swayed seductively in front of him, and Quinn remembered how at one point earlier in the weekend he actually thought he might have a chance with her someday…now he was just a secret joke on stage, a nobody to be laughed at.

Darnell was with Tapthatass behind the turntables, whispering something to him, both men smiling maniacally. A moment later and DJ was walking across the stage, microphone in hand. He found Layla dancing nearby and put an arm around her shoulder, walking her to center stage.

“YO PARTY PEOPLE!” DJ screamed. “I want you all to check out this fine ass white girl I got by my side tonight! Everybody say - WHAT UP LAYLA!”

WHAT UP LAYLAAAA!

“EVERYBODY SAY- LAYLA WHAT THAT MOUTH DO!”

LAYLA WHAT THAT MOUTH DOOOO!

“YOU HEARD EM’ GIRL,” DJ laughed, rubbing a hand across the bulge in his jeans, all of it so easily seen on the giant monitors to each side of the stage. “You gonna show em’ what that mouth do?”

The camera fixated on Layla, topless and grinning. She bit her bottom lip, danced fingertips across her bare nipples…and nodded.

The crowd went insane.

WOOOOO YEEAAAH!

Layla got on her knees center stage and put her hair back in a ponytail. DJ Tapthatass loomed over her, glaring out at the crowd and whipping them into a frenzy. The pandemonium in that random field in the countryside steadily climbed and peaked as DJ Tapthatass exposed himself on stage. 

Quinn watched horrified. 

LAY-LA! LAY-LA! LAY-LA! The crowd chanted in unison. 

All the other girls on stage stopped dancing, they waited with bated breath and a twinkle in their eyes as DJ Tapthatass lifted his throbbing, vascular cock and laid it across the girls’ face. It ran from her chin to well past her forehead, his bloated oblique mushroom head already glistening at the tip.

YEEAAAH! WOOOOOO! The crowd reached such a frenzy that Quinn thought the stage might collapse.

And then it was in her mouth for all to see, three different versions- the two monitors and the real thing happening centerstage. Layla’s dazzling green eyes stared up at DJ Tapthatass as she worked it down her throat.

“LAYLA HERE HAS A VERY SPECIAL MESSAGE TONIGHT,” DJ screamed into the mic, enjoying every second of the white girl slurping down his meat. “A VERY SPECIAL MESSAGE INDEED! BUT WE NEED HER BOYFRIEND TO COME CLOSE FIRST! HAHAHA!”

OOOOHHHHH the crowd responded in shock. Then - HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!

Quinn never even realized that Darnell had come up behind him, joining Darius as the two of them dragged Quinn across the stage kicking and screaming, terrified of the scene taking place just a few feet away. 

They shoved him down to his knees beside Layla. She grinned through a mouthful of cock when she saw him. 

HAHAHAHA! WOOOOO! YEAH! HAHAHAHA!

“GO ON AND TELL YAH BOYFRIEND, LAYLA,” DJ boomed into the microphone, palming the back of Layla’s head and sinking a few more inches down her throat. “TELL HIM HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HIM!”

HAHAHAH! HAHAHAHA!

The mic came to Layla’s stretched lips, to her lolling tongue and spittle-dripped mouth. She tried to speak.

“AYE WUB WOO!” she screeched.

HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!

“AYE WUB WOO WUINN!”

HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!

“LOUDER LAYLA!” DJ encouraged.

“AYE WUB WOO WABY!”

HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!

Quinn’s face was a mixture of horror and disbelief, and when he showed up briefly on the giant monitors the crowd laughed even harder. Layla kept at DJ’s cock, as if Quinn wasn’t there, as if he never existed at all.

And then Tapthatass was out of her throat, and Darnell and Darius were holding Quinn in place as DJ smacked him across the face with his dripping black club.

“LOOK At QUINN EVERYBODY!” DJ laughed heartily, smearing Layla’s spit all over Quinn’s grimacing face. “LOOK AT THIS SISSY CUCK BITCH!”

HAHAHAH! HAHAHA!

“OPEN WIDE QUINN!”

HAHAHA! HAHAHA!

“NOW SAY - MY GIRL LAYLA ONLY FUCKS REAL MEN!”

Quinn balked, mouthful of cock. He felt a sudden rush of wind blow and looked down- Tanya, naked and grinning, at his side and yanking his tutu up until his dick was exposed.

HAHAHA! HAHAHA!

“GO ON LIL’ BITCH!” DJ hollered. “SAY IT! SAY IT!”

SAY-IT! SAY-IT! SAY-IT!

Quinn attempted to move his jaw but it was difficult, stretched as it was.

“MUY GWIRL WAYLA OWNLY FUGS WEAL MEN!” Quinn screeched into the microphone, garbled and sloppy.

“AGAIN!”

“MUY GWIRL WAYLA OWNLY FUGS WEAL MEN!”

HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!

Quinn felt the laughter of eighty thousand strong but there was only one voice, one smile that cut him to his core. Three feet away, on her knees and wild-eyed, Layla’s breasts jiggled with the force of her laughter. She pointed at him, disbelieving, cackling uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes and somewhere between delirium, adrenaline, and total humiliation Quinn perceived an aerial view of it all. Him, kneeling there centerstage in full drag, servicing black cock for all to see. Layla, Alisha, Tanya and all the rest pointing and laughing at him, sheer joy and humor in their faces.

And then they were pulling him back, offstage, away from everyone.

“NOW GET THE FUCK OFF MY STAGE, SISSY!” 

HAHAHAHA!

“YOUR GIRL CAN STAY THOUGH!”

HAHAHAHA!

They tossed him out head over heels into the crowd, where the multitudes of hands crowd- surfed him further and further back, until his topless girlfriend was just a speck on stage and an occasional attraction on screen.

The crowd deposited him in the mud, what felt like a million miles away from the stage.

“Nice show sissy!” a stranger screamed.

“Oh no! Did the little bitch get her dress dirty? Hahaha!”

“Your girl looks busy on stage, loser!”

“Well if it isn’t tiny dick herself, hahaha!”

Quinn stumbled to his feet, walking aimless through the crowd, overwhelmed, a shell of himself. All around were leering, laughing faces, and pretty soon he no longer knew which way he was headed, or if the weekend would ever end.

He found an open section of ground and collapsed there, people standing all around him, the only view he had left was that of the monitor, broadcasting the events on stage in massive, perfect detail.

Layla was grinding naked against DJ Tapthatass’ bare, glistening cock. Alisha held her breasts together for him as he feasted with tongue and lips. Tanya stood nearby, taking it in, her wild smoky eyes lighting up the screen.

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?” a stranger asked him from above.

Quinn thought about the question. He laid down there in the grass, and slowly the world around him dissolved to black. Sometime in the middle of the night strange hands held him, bending him over there in the dark desolate field, all the music gone, just strange grunts from behind.

“Oh I see you already broken in baby,” the voice from the dark. “That’s good. More room for me…”

Quinn felt the stranger penetrate him, go deep, move inside him with urgent precision.

“Oh my God,” Quinn moaned, half-asleep.

“Little sissy bitch likes it, huh?” the stranger’s vice grip came to Quinn’s erection, dripping hard yet again. “Yes she does…good little sissy…take it right in the ass…mmmm…”

When the stranger finished, he left Quinn there face down in the field, jerking off, cumming hard into the frilly pink tutu now barely hanging on to his waist. When it was over, Quinn drifted off to sleep.

And the festival was silent around him.

The Morning After…

The sun was up for hours before it finally woke Quinn from a deep sleep. He was lying in a vacant green field, trash and litter stretching outwards from him in every direction. His boots were gone, his wig in shambles atop his head. The tutu was there but in tatters, just enough of it to cover his withered, exhausted dick. 

The falsie bra was still very much intact, still convincing even the cold light of the morning. 

He sat up and looked around. 

In the distance, workers were tearing apart the mainstage. The screens were already down and disassembled, and now they were gradually pulling up the floor of the stage itself. Gone were the roaming campers, ravers, young flesh and high hopes. 

Vague memories of the night before, a mere few hours ago, floated around in his head a jumbled array of grey and black dreams that had no timeline. What definitive memories he could grasp were too strange and complex in their emotions for him to dwell on. In his half-waking state, there was only one thing he could count on at the moment, one thing to focus on.

He had to find the girls. He had to find Layla.

Quinn loped across the great green field like a sissy zombie risen from the dead. He passed by the monolith that was once the mainstage, now just a pile of metal neatly stacked and ready to be hauled away. The crew finishing up was four black guys, each muscled and dripping with sweat. They noticed Quinn when he walked by- a few stifled snickers and whispered jokes.

Quinn ignored them and kept walking.

Out towards the campgrounds, what was once a sea of tarp and tent in every color known to man, was now another totally desolate field, empty and depleted. He walked to where he thought their tent had been camped and found nothing. His 4runner was gone, probably towed. 

“My phone,” he sighed. “My phone was in there…”

The smallest tinge of panic settled into Quinn’s queasy belly. No phone and no girls. Not yet. A thousand miles from home. Dressed the way he was.

“Fuck,” he turned and stomped back off towards the festival grounds.

This time when he came to where the mainstage used to be the four handymen were smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee, chatting out front of the semi they were hauling the stage off in. Quinn tried to pass unnoticed, which of course was near impossible in the outfit he wore.

“You lost, sugar?” one of the men called out. “I can give you a ride, hehehe…”

“What choo’ looking for, girl?” another said. “The party is over. Less you wanna start one over here with us.”

The others laughed and Quinn walked on, headed for what he assumed was the backstage area, now just a grassy hill. On and on he went, until there in the distance he saw something. What exactly he couldn’t say, but it was better than nothing.

As Quinn approached, he realized the shape was a bus. A long black bullet with lettering down its sides. He couldn’t make at the words, but as he came closer he heard the rhythm of bass and drums, the rattle of the bus on its frame as the music blared from within. 

The lettering came into view: DJ TAPTHATASS WORLD TOUR!

Quinn’s foggy brain assembled the information slowly, his feet carrying him further. Along the top portion of the bus were wide, great tinted windows that revealed very little of the inside. Quick flashes of green and pink lights were visible against the black but that was all.

He came to a stop along the side of the vehicle. There was a party going on within, no doubt about that. Loud and constant, the music triggered memories of the night before, causing Quinn to shudder there in the warm sunlight.

Not really sure of what he was doing, only knowing that he needed to find a way out of there, he walked to the front and knocked hard on the tour bus door.

As expected, nothing came in response. 

He knocked again, constant and loud. He opened his palm, banging, pleading for some sign. Anything.

And then the door pulled in, the music from the bus suddenly blaring out, deafening and strong. Darnell stepped out of the bus, his afro messy and his eyes a wild stare. He towered over Quinn, scratching his chin, curious.

“What it is, sissy?”

“Um…uh,” Quinn cleared his throat, shocked at the weak sound of his voice. “Are the girls in there by chance?”

“Which girls?”

“Um, my girlfriend. Layla…her friends, Alisha? Tanya?”

Darnell squinted.

“Um, pretty blonde. Red-head girl with big tits? Short, evil woman with a big ass? Ring any bells?”

“You talking about Layla and the gang?”

“Exactly,” Quinn caught his breath, on the verge of relief.

“Yeah they on the bus right now. Got em on the poles. Putting on a real nice show for the homies…”

“Is that so?” Quinn felt his heart sink but tried but tried to ignore the pang of it. “Well do you think you could let them know…let them know that Quinn is outside? I don’t have my phone, I don’t have a ride. I need to talk to them.”

Darnell looked Quinn up and down for a moment, thinking over the request. 

“You say you ain’t even got yah phone?”

“I’m stuck, Darnell. I need some help. Would you please just tell Layla I’m here?”

“Alright, white boy. Imma’ help you out. Since you look all pathetic and shit out here dressed like a bitch. Can’t let you on the bus, Tap’s rules. Wait here and I’ll get yah girl…well, everybody’s girl more like it but yeah, sit tight…”

Darnell walked back onto the bus and closed the door behind him.

Quinn waited there in the sun, the day growing hot around him. He wondered what Layla had been up to all night long, if she’d been partying even as he slept in the field. Was it true at last? Was her infidelity a real, tangible thing? Had she brought him here just to cheat on him repeatedly with every manner of DJ and stranger she could?

As his mind tried to find an excuse, to explain it away, to say that even something as harmless as pole dancing couldn’t possibly mean she was cheating…the tour bus engine roared to life, and a moment later began to roll forward.

“Wait!” he screamed, shuffling barefoot through the mud alongside the moving vehicle. “WAIT! LAYLA! LAYLA!”

The bus picked up steam, outpacing him, pulling away.

“LAAAAYLA! NO! WAIT! NOOOOO!”

He tripped, fell in the dirt. Lifting his head, Quinn watched the bus make a right turn out of the giant field, disappearing behind a row of trees.

“Layla no,” he panted softly. “God what do I do now…”

On his last legs, Quinn crept forward slowly, at a loss for what option was left to him. On instinct, he ambled back towards the stage crew and the parked semi. The men looked in the midst of getting ready to leave, the four of them mounting up into the extra-large cab. 

Realizing this might be his last chance, Quinn shuffled over to them quickly, intent. 

“Excuse me, uh, sirs?” he covered his eyes with his hands. “Do any of you happen to have a phone I could use? To call a taxi?”

“A taxi?” the one behind the wheel chuckled, looking down at Quinn below. “Ain’t no taxi run out here. Closest place is fifteen miles away, you can take a bus from there. Taxi, ha!”

“Somebody stay out too late?” one with a big grey beard laughed.

Quinn gulped, afraid of the answer to the question he had to ask.

“Is there any way you could give me a ride?” Quinn said it quiet, a little terrified.

“That ain’t no problem at all, young lady,” the driver said jovially enough. “What we gonna do leaving a pretty thing like you out here all alone?”

A small sense of relief swept through Quinn then, momentarily forgetting the great betrayal he’d witnessed just minutes prior. 

“Wow, thank you…thank you so much,” Quinn said with sincerity. “I can’t tell you how badly I need a break. Thank you.”

“How bad?” said the giant one, black and burly and mean. 

“Excuse me?” Quinn said, watching the man open the passenger door and get out of the cab. 

“You said you needed a break. Bad…how bad you need it?”

“I’m not sure I follow…” Quinn gulped as the other three climbed down out of the truck and surrounded him.

“We can give you a ride, girly,” the driver said, deep and low. “But we’re on the clock…ain’t nothing free when we on the clock.”

A hand came to Quinn’s shoulder, the fingers curling around it, squeezing.

“Well, uh, um,” Quinn stuttered. “I can give you some gas money…”

More hands, dark and strong, grabbing at him head and shoulders, shoving him down until the trampled grass below touched his knees. He looked up at their hyena smiles, fat fingers pulling belt buckles and buttons and zippers. Glistening black rods sweaty and bloated lying across the front of their blue jeans. 

“It’s always the same with you raver sluts,” the large mean one said, taking his uncut brown snake in hand and placing it against Quinn’s lips. His pubic hair was black and curly and full, and it tickled when he got it far enough down Quinn’s throat.

“This one’s probably got a boyfriend,” the driver laughed, reaching down and grabbing a handful of fake tit. “They always do. Some blonde bitch comes with her man and ends up sucking someone else’s cock all weekend. Usually a black dude!”

Quinn tasted salt and cock, his throat surprisingly trained and relaxed by now as the four men passed him around. Soon their balls were fit to burst, cocks throbbing violently between his cheeks. 

“Time to paint this little fairy and get her into town,” the mean one laughed, stroking inches from Quinn’s face.

“Make sure you go home and give your boyfriend a kiss after this,” the driver chuckled, shoving deep into Quinn’s gullet and unloading himself there. “A nice, salty kiss…UUUGGHHH!”

Quinn closed his eyes, the eruptions of four different strangers inside his mouth and across his face overtaking him, coating him, thick and hot and dense. A vision of his gorgeous girlfriend flashed in his mind, sexy Layla in one of her patented party dresses, so revealing and provocative…sailing away on a tour bus now.

He would call her cell phone we he got to town he decided. The tour bus was probably doing the same for them, just giving them a ride to be friendly. That was it surely. She might even be waiting for him when he got into town, and they could get lunch and reminisce about the weekend.

Yes, Quinn would be back with his girlfriend in no time.

“EVERY LAST DROP! UUUGGHHH!” the driver shook out the rest in Quinn’s face, a wayward wad landing in his eye, gluing it shut. 

“Can I go home now?” Quinn asked.

“Get your ass in the truck, girly. I think we’ll keep you for a few towns over. Drop you off when we’re done with you.”

Quinn nodded in agreement and wiped the semen out of his eye. Almost home.

THE END