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A group of friends discover Greg’s satin panties when he bends over at a bar, and the night spirals into a forced drag fashion show at Caroline’s place. As the girls lace him into prom dresses and a long wig, they notice his cock stiffening under the humiliation. His girlfriend Amy reveals his secret fantasies of being pegged and degraded, then offers “Gina” up for the girls to use however they please—the more sissy and humiliating, the better.
Greg feels the world slow down when Caroline's finger jabs toward his hip. The satin panties are on display—pale pink, glossy, unmistakable. Heat floods his face, but beneath the shame, his cock stirs against the slick fabric. Amy's hand finds his under the table, squeezing once. He knows she didn't plan this but he knows she wants him to feel this. Too late now, anyway.
Greg stands in Caroline's bedroom, drowning in a Satin prom dress that strains across his broad shoulders, a long blonde wig tickling his bare collarbones. The girls circle him like sharks, their laughter softening into something hungrier as they notice the tent forming in the draped satin. Amy catches his eye in the mirror and gives him a knowing smile— one that says he has no idea what he's in for. Caroline's hand slides up his thigh, beneath the hem of the dress, and her fingers find the damp satin of his panties, and pauses there, giving him a little squeeze. 'Oh,' she breathes. 'He's really into this.' The room goes quiet, and Greg feels his humiliation crystallize into something electric—his shame and his arousal fusing into a single, unbearable need. Natalie opens a drawer and starts pulling out sex toys, a huge smile on her face.
Still holding Greg's erection through the dress, Natalie grabs his ass with the other hand and says, "let's see how good of a sissy Gina really is," as she squeezes him dominantly. Amy walks up with a bottle of lube and puts it on the strap on and then lifts Gina's dress, gently applying some to his humiliated but eager ass. Greg feels the cool silicone press against his slicked hole as Natalie guides him onto the vanity table, the wood biting into his thighs through the bunched emerald satin. His hands grip the edge as she pushes in, slow and deliberate, and he hears himself whimper—a sound that doesn't belong to Greg, that belongs to Gina. Caroline watches from the bed, her hand between her own legs, her green eyes glittering. 'Look at her take it,' she murmurs. 'Like she was made for it.' Amy's reflection catches his eye in the mirror behind them—she's smiling, soft and proud, and he feels his shame crack open into something like gratitude. He rocks back onto Natalie's cock, and the room dissolves into heat and laughter and the rustle of satin.