BMOC: Black Mage on Campus, Chapter 7: A Season in HELL—Part 8

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My mind felt like it was on fire. Everything was black. I at least could feel the comfortable softness of the bed linen beneath me. My brain felt like mashed potatoes. I couldn’t form a thought. Oh God… my whole body felt sore too… I struggled to remember. I groped for memories but could only piece together fragments… the box… My Dragon…Bambi… working out… Rocko… Dr. Heart, he is so nice… Hung Low… Whiteboy… Of…Fuck the bitch Doctor Morrible… Sucki sucki…. Something felt wrong though… like I was missing something… or that when I used to try and think of stuff it felt different.

I opened my eyes and started to scream. My eyes were open! Oh god … Oh god… Oh… god… I’m blind… I’m blind…

“For Christ sake Rhodry, He’s awake.” I heard a familiar voice say..

“He shouldn’t be…” That sounded like Doctor Heart. I felt better. Doctor Heart wouldn’t let anything happen to him. We had an agreement. I had Honor. So did he. I was honorable. I kept screaming though. I really don’t want to be blind. My voice sounded odd… like I had a cold or like I was yelling from inside a well.

“There, I checked his IV and upped the dosage,” Doctor Heart told her angrily.

“Well shut him up.” She screeched at him.

“Roxanna, Just be patient. It should only be a… see… he’s sedated again.”

They were right. I stopped screaming. I couldn’t keep up the energy to. The world started to cloud over in a comfortable fog.

“Your test of the implant must have woken him. The adrenaline spike could have jolted him awake,” I heard Dr. Heart say… as the darkness and numbness returned.

“Agreed.” I really hated Dr. Morrible. She had no honor. “So please stipulate the progress of your patient's recovery. So, that I can notate for the completed …”

“Of course,” he sighed. “Full facial reconstruction including: Asian blepharoplasty, in conjunction with a minor eyelift. Cheek implants. Rhinoplasty. Laryngoplasty and vocal cavity scrape, have all been completed, patient’s swelling has reduced and is responding positively to antibiotics and hormone therapy. Projected recuperation: 4 days.”

“All of it Rhodry.” She scolded.

“Oh yes… Final stages of Body Contouring completed. Patient has fully recovered from removal of ribs 10,11, and 12. Abdominalplasty and tightening of abdominal wall has been particularly successful. The bicep implants need to be re-sutured but beyond that I would categorize the reconstruction complete. Your turn Nurse Ratchett…”

“Not funny and irrelevant. Patient has received modified neural stimulator. Patient is currently under sedation and is receiving brain wave specific electric….stim ….syn …….repet……


…. Doctor Heart … hung Low… Suck… Doctor Heart… Hung low…. Dragon… Heart…. Hung Low… honor….. American…. Sucki….. dr….

I awoke with a jolt. A loud crash had sent me rocketing back to consciousness. I was in my room alone. My cartoons were playing louder than ever and I guess one of the episodes woke me. The cold sterile light of the room seemed brighter.


I wasn’t blind. I wasn’t blind.

I put my hands up to my eyes tentatively to make sure… My hands seemed so colorless and pale. This was way more than just lack of sun… I let my eyes travel further down examining my completely hairless porcelain skin. I wasn’t just pale, I was ivory… totally devoid of pigment… my abs looked like fist sized marble biscuits…

MY abs! The bindings on my waist were finally gone. My torso was free. I took a deep relaxing breath and noticed abstractly that my abdomen seemed ludicrously different. Smaller, tighter like I had…

“This is the progress log for patient #4, acquisition number 718 Delta.” It was Morrible’s voice. I spun around looking for her in terror… then realized that the sound was coming from the huge flat screen monitor that normally played my cartoons.

The screen was blank for a moment and then suddenly the cartoons were gone. A camera shot displayed a very sterile and utilitarian hospital room. I recognized that room. It was the one I was sitting in.

What new and awful game was she playing?

“Patient has received numerous long term indoctrinations while placed in subliminal trance state, by high frequency light and sound stimulation. As is displayed in epileptics the sound and light combination cause the patient’s brain to respond with minor seizures. After careful calculation of the patient's own brain waves, the combination has been modified to allow access to the patient’s subconscious during the trance like state achieved through minor synaptic triggers.”

I didn’t understand any of that. I did however understand the video was showing me myself. I walked into frame and sat down on the bed.

I hadn’t seen myself in a mirror in an eternity and it was surreal to watch my big body plop down on the bed, wearing only my humiliating little kid briefs. God I was huge. My upper body was Pro-wrestler big… and chiseled… and again paler than flour. I watched myself in morbid fascination. I looked like I had just gotten done working out. My unkempt dirty blonde hair hung in sweaty ringlets around my head. I had never had my haircut here and it showed. I had a long stringy mane of knotted hair. How had I not noticed that? Sweat coated my alabaster muscles and I looked tired.

The video showed me getting situated and then abruptly stopping. The me in the video sat transfixed by the cartoons blaring at him. His eyes got big, his pupils dilated and his mouth hung open like a zombie.

Then nothing.

Just images of me staring blankly at the monitors.

Oh God. She had me observe the modification and mind fucking of all my friends… now it was time to watch mine… That fucking evil cow…

The time images began to fluctuate and I could see a time stamp flashing forward…1hr… 2hrs… 3hrs… I had sat there like a puppet for four hours before the scene slowed and changed.

The zombie me was still mindless gazing reaction less at the animation, but now Doctor Heart entered the frame. His heavy body sat gently next to me. His big brown eyes traveled the length of my defenseless muscled body and lovingly caressed the swell of my chest and the cuts of my biceps. He leaned in and it looked like he was whispering in my ear. The zombie me, just kept staring straight ahead slack jawed and unblinking. The monitor showed him stroking my hair as he whispered inaudible words into my ear. His well manicured hand began to stroke my unresponsive face. He let his fingertips linger on my mouth and then gently inserted three into my lips. The zombie me immediately began sucking furiously on his hand like a baby with a pacifier, all the while vacantly staring at nothing.

He paused for a second, reached into his suit coat and retrieved what looked like a large white carrot. It was long and blunt at the end. It had a small ring handle that he held tightly. He removed his fingers from my mouth and plopped the big pacifier didlo into it. My lips smacked down on it with a loud pop. My face vacuumed around its girth and I could see my throat bobbing up and down as I sucked on it for dear life.

Heart smiled, patted me on the head and left.

Again the time stamp began… hours flew by as I sat like a robot; sucking on a big dong and watching cartoons with an erection the size of a baseball bat. The visual was so absurd it would have been hilarious… if it wasn’t fucking ME!

The video flipped to more scenes of me tranced and exposed while being worked on. Scenes of guards applying chemicals to my skin… bleaching it out… making it paler… like I was fucking Michael Jackson. There were more images of me sucking the big dildo like a baby. There were countless scenes of Dr. Heart tenderly whispering his commands into my empty brain…

That’s where the fucking dick sucking thing had come from. They were putting me under… getting inside my head… No wonder I constantly wanted something in my mouth… from the looks of it, I had spent hours furiously hoovering a cock shaped lollipop. What had Heart been whispering at me?

How did those fucking cartoons make me zonk out like that…

When the videos stopped, I was left in the dark. My room was silent and I stared in mindless horror. I had only a moment to contemplate the nightmare I had just watched…

The entire time they had been putting me into a trance state with the light and sound of the cartoons filling my empty brain with subliminal instructions..

How many hours did I loose…?

How many days did I spend blankly staring and being programmed by the fucking cartoons…?

The monitor shuttered to life and the cartoons began again.

The lights flashed the music blared… and I stood up.

I want to say I was on autopilot but I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing… I knew what I was supposed to do. My body moved… my mind wanted to stop it but I knew what I was supposed to do next and couldn’t stop myself… I just had to get it done.

There were clothes on a chair in my room. They were my clothes. I quietly and calmly walked to the chair and began to dress in the clothes, I knew instinctively, Dr. Heart had selected for me.

I could have just stopped.

I didn’t have to put on the clothes

But I knew I was supposed to and that compulsion was drowning out any other thought with its soothing and comforting simplicity.

There was a pair of bright yellow hot pants. They were shiny and plastic. I slid one long, pale, hairless and muscled leg into them. They were very tight. I slid the other pale hairless leg into them. I was mesmerized by how the definition in my calves and thighs shone like cut marble.

In the crouch of the little yellow plastic hot pants there was a sheath that ran down the side. I slid the colorless cumbersome girth of my flesh dragon into it. It ran down the length of the tiny pant leg. I buttoned them. The waist was very small. They hugged my tiny abdomen tightly. I looked down at them. My miniscule waist made the hot pants flare around my hips making a drastic contrast. The big thick cylinder ran down the length of my leg like a sleeping python. It was obvious and was stretched in shiny yellow repose against my thigh. I liked it. It made my dick look massive. It showed it off. It made me smile.

A tight "Dragonball Z” t-shirt followed. It must have been a child’s size because it was hard to force over my head. When I finally did, I had to rip the neck hole to get it on. It was bright orange and made my skin look like the vanilla filling of a cream-cicle. My now massive and absurdly bloated arms stuck out of it like ham hocks. The rip in the neckline showed off slopes of muscled brawn pec flesh. I was sporting some major ivory bodybuilder cleavage. The shirt barely fit my massive pecs but it clung like snakeskin to my petite ripped abdomen. The contrast was bizarre, Giant pecs… little child sized waist and thick long athletic legs.

Next I sat down, my plastic pants creaked. I leaned forward and slowly crammed my foot into a huge red boot. It was plastic and shiny. It had a heel on it. It looked like something you would see a cartoon character wear. I know that’s why I had to put it on. I put on the second boot and pulled them over my bulging calves. They hugged my legs and made me look like an action figure. Standing on them took a moment to become accustomed to. The heels made me walk strangely; with my big dick dragon thrust forward and my wide shoulders sloped back. My new Godzilla arms swung heavily at my sides in wide swoops. The boots made me taller. They were odd.

I grabbed a bottle of Gel from the chair. I put half the bottle in my hand. I slopped the gel into my hair and began to make giant random spikes out of my long hair. I knew I was finished when I could feel it all sticking up high and solid above my skull.

I finished by putting on a pair of avatar dog-tags and a wide plastic Pokimon watch.

I knew I had finished. I let out a big sigh of relief. It was good that I had completed that task. It made my nerves calm.

Now I could really think about what had been done to me.

How many hours had I been staring at those cartoons, while Doctor Heart whispered his commands in my ear?

I moved to the center of the room. I placed my fists on my hips, made my exaggerated biceps flex, posed and waited.

I knew I was supposed to wait… in the center of the room… posing and flexing… so I did.

How did they made me just sit there, eyes glazed, sucking on that big rubber dick-shaped pacifier? I remember watching the cartoons… not anything else. It couldn’t be possible. That couldn’t have happened. To make behave like a zombie against my will? That’s crazy.

Oh I was supposed to smile. I stretched my mouth into a wide face splitting grin, that crinkled my eyes and hurt my jaw and I continued to wait.

All that time… what had Dr. Heart been saying to me? Could Dr. Morrible have been putting stuff into my head while I was all zonked out staring at the lights…

Oh… My dick wasn’t at full staff. I rubbed a pale hand over its length nervously, trying to wake my dragon. It was supposed to be hard. I thought quickly about fucking Whiteboy’s big American ass. He had a huge American ass. It was good to fuck. I thought about Buck prancing around dressed like a total fag and giggling like an airhead. I thought about Abe’s huge roided out quads…I guess I could have thought about women… I guess I used to… but the idea of it seemed foreign. I settled on fucking Bambi’s blonde American muscle twat in front of al his gym buddies while he moaned and cooed like a silly American woman. My Dragon woke up and I could feel it straining against its plastic display case.

…I was ready.

I was supposed to say something when i… “HERRO DOCTAH! HUNG-RO IS WEADY!” I bellowed, instinctively. I smiled till my eyes were almost shut. Oh GOD! My voice sounded so deep and huge. When I spoke just now… it didn’t sound like me… it sounded like a man with a chest cold screaming into a well. Deep, hollow and reverberating. I wanted to say something else to test it out. … but I knew I was supposed to wait. So I did.

Sweat began to slip down my muscled forearms. Flexing this long was making my muscles cramp. I just flexed harder and smiled wider. I waited.

It might have been minutes. It might have been hours. I tried to contemplate what had happened… the box.. my weird behavior… the strange videos…. But it took to much concentration to stay in pose and to smile. Eventually my mind just drifted off and I was completely engrossed with the physical task of waiting and flexing and smiling.

Finally, Dr. Heart entered the room. Dr. Morrible was right behind him. I struck a double bicep and gazed at one upraised fist, “Herro Doctah” I boomed. I waited, like I was supposed to.

I stood there, shaking from exertion, balancing on my boots, jutting my dragon forward lewdly. I smiled harder and ignored the pain in my engorged arms.

There was a heavy sigh of impatience from the doorway. I couldn’t see who made it. I was staring intently at my clenched fist… waiting. “Damn it Rhodry, I have a 6 o’clock appointment with the Board of Philip Morris. I don’t have time to watch you marvel at your own handiwork.”

“Very well” I Heard Doctor Heart clear his throat, “You may relax LEO.”

The weight of my full thought process crashed in on me like a dam being opened. What the fuck was I doing. What the fuck was I DOING!!! WHY THE FUCK HAD I PUT ON THIS FUCKING COSTUME… I let my massive, heavy arms fall, and was terrified to realize that they were so big and distended that the hung akimbo and awkward at my sides.

“WHAT YOU DO TO…” My voice was deep and cavernous… oh god my voice… I tottered precariously on my heeled boots. I stumbled forward… towards a mirror that Dr. Heart had obviously brought into the room with him. He stood next to it… eyeing me intently. The creature in the mirror was not me. “LEO… meet Hung-Lo…”

My mind seemed to buckle at those two words… LEO… and HUNG-LO… the combination made my head hurt.

The haze of painkillers and mood enhancing medication made it hard for me to fully comprehend the image staring back at me. First of all, the merciless upper body training and the steroids that they had been pumping into me since I had been kidnapped, had made my chest, arms and shoulders HUGE. My shoulders and traps were enormous and cut. When I was training for Football I would have given my fucking right nut to get this big. It was all dissected with angry veins and cut into marble precision. My chest was insanely wide and protruded into my vision, with bloated muscle and supernatural density. My arms seemed longer and they hung down like corded ropes. They lead up to my distended bulging biceps and craggy triceps. My juiced up upper body seemed cartoonishly big perched on top of my tiny little waist. My biceps were too big. They were unnaturally big. They must have done something to them. It looked like I had been doing bicep curls since I was a toddler.

The nature defying arms made my waist look infinitely smaller. They must have done something more than just the restriction bindings. My waist was miniscule. I was a 34 when I got here…I looked at the impossible dimensions of the abdomen that erupted from the vicious cut of my Adonis cleft…

I was stunned…

I’m 6 foot tall and my waist couldn’t be more then 28 or, maybe even…26 inches. It made my grossly over-trained upper body exaggerated and uncanny. The hard cut of my lower abdomen lead into a granite pubic line. All of which made my Dragon really look like a baby’s arm swinging from my crouch.

The alabaster legs that lead to the floor were sculpted porcelain perfection. Long muscled and toned like an anatomy model. Not a hair anywhere on my body. I was just smooth, shiny pearl skin, unmarred by a single cell of pigment. I remembered when I was Leo the football star, I had always been a charger on the field. Thick powerful, quads and thighs… now my legs were graceful and looked longer from their drastic tone and slimness. My muscular hips jutted out from the ridiculous waist and tapered down to my feet in slender creepy muscled perfection.

My proportions were unnatural and bizarrely entrancing. The massive, cumbersome upper body perched onto the miniature waist and abdominal wall, the pronounced hips and groin, the long legs… they all added up to a totally different…man… no creature … I was totally transformed.


This body that I could feel around me wasn’t mine. Worst of all, my dick started to throb at the sight.

“You see Hung-lo… You really are a dragon now.”

I looked at the face in the mirror. Hung-Lo was a very handsome man. He was obviously of Asian descent. He had slanted almond eyes. They were tight slits that glinted with green. Green eyes, like a dragon’s. Hung-Lo had high aristocratic cheekbones that gave his up-turned eyes a permanent amused tilt. His very masculine square jaw however and thick neck, looked like he might be half Nordic. Hung-Lo’s hair was styled like one of the cartoons that Hung-Lo always watched. It was jet black and absurdly spiked in different directions.

Hung-Lo looked a lot like me. 'Cept if my Dad was some Japanese chink… and my Mom was a cartoon gorilla.

Hung-Lo’s squinty eyes observed me right back from his side of the mirror.

It was so weird when my big dragon of a dick bounced, so did his. When I flexed one pearly bicep, so did he.

I smiled, watching Hung-Lo try to put his hands around his tiny little wasp waist… just like I was trying to measure my own. The smile erupted into a laugh.

GOD the laughing felt good.

Hung-Lo Laughed.

I laughed. Hung-Lo…I… Hung-Lo…

I looked at Hung-Lo in the mirror, staring in horror at his blunt masculine Asian face and his slanted eastern eyes.. I turned to Dr. Heart. I wanted to be angry but my heart was pounding in adoration of his honorable American warriors’ body. Why did I feel such intense emotion when I looked at him… “RY? RY? RY? You do ziz? RY You Turn Hung-Ro into brig Japanese Musser Fweak?”

Dr. Heart stood up and approached me. My Dragon bounced at attention for its master. He put his big hands on my China doll face, “I only did what I had to, to satisfy the terms of your contract, my dear boy. You demanded a million dollars a year compensation.” His big American eyes burned into mine, “In today’s economic climate there really isn’t much chance for a white sex-slave making that kind of money in the states…” His hand grabbed my big cock dragon forcefully. I shuddered in bliss. “…But as my financial advisors have assured me, the commercial value of a horse-hung Asian muscle slave in the booming economy of China, Korea, and Japan would be insanely lucrative. I made you into the perfect Asian sex slave. You are a priceless parody of their fetishes. Your masculine bone structure and football player build makes you their athletic ideal. Your huge biceps… tiny little waist and pasty complexion make you a cultural ideal. The sex trade in that region is pretty exotic and they have highly developed fetishes regarding pop culture… that you now embody!” He brushed his fingers lovingly across my eyes, “You look like one of them but are hung like a porn star. You’re the perfect Asian Muscle Top for hire… weak willed, humiliation loving business men will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to have Hung-Lo escort them, fuck them and abuse them… You’re going to make all the money you demanded.”

Dr. Heart stepped back. He and Dr. Morrible observed their craftsmanship with contended grins. The handsome Doctor was in religious ecstasy at his triumph. Mrs. Morrible in characteristic stoicism, just watched curiously.

I was a bodybuilding Japanese prostitute?


I was a bodybuilding Japanese prostitute… with a giant schlong and a voice like a cartoon character. What was I before? I know I wasn’t Asian… I know I wasn’t a prostitute but I was now. I was so confused. I was a bodybuilding Japanese prostitute… HA!



It was so ridiculous all I could do was laugh.

My brain was on fire and all I could do was laugh.

Me? A Big dicked, huge muscled, Asian super top?

“ASAIN MUSSER TOP!!! HAHAHAAHAHA!!! LOT O MONEY!!! HAHAHAH!!!” I was laughing at the top of my lungs, teetering on my long equine legs and clutching my tiny little belly.

“It seems the modifications that you made on the neural implant are working beyond your original expectations.” Dr. Heart noted happily. His big hands twitched anxiously toward his crisp suit pants and his obviously full erection.

“This is completely what I anticipated.” Dr. Morrible corrected him. “The Implants’ electrode stimulators are responding to the release of serotonin and “encouraging” the brain to release more. In subject, Buck/Bambi the neuron receptors are programmed at a lower dosage, so he only experiences mild contentment. In subject Leo/Hung-Lo, the distribution of serotonin is higher and is also compounded with a synapse accelerant that releases a mild amount of adrenaline.”

I ignored her and turned back to the mirror. Hung-Lo was convulsing in laughter. His big muscles shook and his squinty eyes were pinched in hysterics. I just kept laughing and pantomiming with Hung-Lo, as that fat American bitch kept talking,

“The effect creates a focused “push” of euphoria.” She noted my big face splitting grin, and my hard spurting bursts of silly guttural laughter. “This Sub-neural chemical reaction… combined of course with the reinforcement the subject received during his subconscious hibernation programming and the bombardment of the video reinforcement, causes him to exhibit the classic traits of an incredibly “happy” and “amused” personality trope.” She added with sinister delight, “I told him I would find a way to make him find the humor in life.”

I could hear all the words she said but it was just so fucking funny!

She gave me an implant that makes me laugh and be happy?

Ha! Every time I thought about it, it just was fucking exhilaratingly hilarious. I mean I know I should be angry and mad, but it just felt so good to laugh at the whole bizarre situation. Most of all it really felt good to laugh, even though my face was starting to hurt from the ear to ear stupid grin that I couldn’t wipe off.

Hung-Lo thought it was funny too. He was laughing so hard his big chinky eyes were leaking tears and his own big dragon dong bounced up and down as he hooted and snorted.

I heard Doctor Heart get up and open the door. I wanted to look away from the big porcelain bodybuilding Jap in the mirror, but I was laughing too hard at his hysterical face.

Doctor Heart put a firm hand on my shoulder and turned me away from Hung-Lo. I was intensely grateful. I felt like I could stare at him forever… He was so handsome. I felt such respect for him. “Herro doctah!”, I thundered, in my mind it sounded normal. But when it came out of my mouth… “What you Do to Hung-Ro! Ry Hung-Ro talk rike dis?!”

Dr. Morrible observed us curiously, “My procedures are capable of augmenting habits and mannerisms. Your cognitive thought may still seem like the thoughts of “Leo” but your reactions and communications have been re-patterned.” Her smile was cold and unfeeling, “My research does show that after time you will begin to think with the same augmentation as well.”

I was stunned and sick. “But Ry Make Hung-Lo sound rike dis?”

She gave me a perturbed little snort. “Because I can’t effectively “teach” you how to speak Japanese… that isn’t logically plausible without co-operation…however I am able to make you “sound” like a Japanese native and to ingrain certain phrases so as to suggest the nationality…. And to adhere to broad cultural stereotypes.”

“You Make Hung-Ro talk rike chink? Hahaha!” I was really excited now. My heart was racing, my mind was doing summersaults and my stomach was a knot of fear and puke… But I just stood there motionless. The painkillers had numbed me and calmed to the point where I just stood reaction less. I just pleasantly talked to this bitch about totally mind-fucking me like we were having tea.

“It was done to compliment the physical modifications that Dr. Heart has made to you. It helps to reinforce the new identity and forces you to accept it.”

My mind fumbled around the new information. Two words stood out above all the rest… “Identity…accept”

Doctor Heart’s firm approving hands appraised my biceps, “We want you to feel comfortable and happy with the new you… Just like your friends are…” The door opened and Dr. Morrible ushered in Bambi, Whiteboy and Lucky. Doctor Heart grasped my dick dragon and released it from its plastic prison. It bounded out excited to be free and throbbing with blood.

I looked down and was astonished to see three familiar faces kneeling at my feet. My three former friends each transformed and mind raped, was crouched in supplication before the majesty of my gargantuan cock.

Coifed and manicured little Bambi was the first to give in. He licked in rapture at the base of the thick shaft, bathing my hairless snow colored scrot’ with his pierced tongue. The big guy’s meticulously manicured facial stubble rubbed raw against my milky thighs and his feathery bleached mane brushed against the smooth expanse of my waspy abdomen. I watched his big altered pecs heave up and down comically. I got even harder thinking about tity-fucking the huge hairy muscle tits that the bitch sported.

Whiteboy plopped the engorged mushroom of my cock head in and out of his mouth like a child bobbing for apples. His big lips felt amazing as their rotund girth plunged onto my huge tip over and over. His big juicy lips were slick and drooling. His heavy lidded, dim-witted eyes looked up the expanse of my massive upper body in dull adulation. He had pulled out his own hairless cock from his baggy jeans and huge boxers. He was beating his meat furiously. The huge slopes of his butt cheeks and the unnaturally deep chasm of his ass crack were exposed every time he dove to wrap those floppy lips around my monster schlong. I wanted to feel those plump watermelons swallow my beast of a dick. I wanted to ram those fuck-pillows till they shook like waterbeds.

Lucky just sat and fingered his artificial cunt in reverence and expectation. The huge hormone factory just drooled in awe and flaunted his mutilation at my good luck and impressive modification. In those big hungry eyes I could tell he wasn’t envying the giant fuck-rod. He wasn’t wishing that he still had his. He was waiting hopefully to get fucked by it. He wasn’t Lucky, the ultimate fighter, the testosterone fueled berserker or the arrogant oppressor from the box. He was no longer the intimidating torturous and malicious warrior rapist from my nightmares. He was now a big masculine needy cunt. His big arms twitched up and down as he continued to diddle himself expectantly… like the silly American whore he had become… American? Yes… American… he was caucasian…. and weak… and needed to be fucked… yes… that was what American meant… wasn’t it?

It was all SOOO funny!

They all just sat and worshipped my dick, like stupid Americans.

Like they should!

I threw back my head and laughed. It was loud and sharp. I felt the tickle of that sissy Bambi’s bitch ass hair and felt another stab of uncontrollable obnoxious laughter.

My bloated shoulders rolled with the bursts of exploding unabashed amusement. I was like a fucking cartoon the way I just put my hands on my big hips and narrow waist and threw my head back and shook the room with my hooting.

The picture of that made me laugh harder. My cock was leaking precum all over Whiteboy’s lips, slicking his young American face in creamy jizz and making those big lips even glossier.

Fucking funny as shit.

HA! I must look exactly like one of those guys in those Japanese cartoons! Ha! I really started to like those cartoons. They were so cool. Ha! Wow now I am one of those cartoons. I look like a cartoon. I act like a cartoon. My cock is the size of a cartoon balloon at the Macey’s Day Parade. HA! Ha!

The three silly Americans were talking to me, but I couldn’t focus on their squeaky and weak little voices. I was to … engrossed by my big dick… I was close… I was close… I was

“AHHHHHHH!!!!” I bellowed and sprayed cum all over Bambi’s hair. I pulled on the big cock and spurted another round onto Whiteboy's chest. I sprayed them down with my big loads.

They just sat their smiling and wanking while I hosed them with my dragon.

So fucking funny.

I couldn’t stop laughing at them.

Silly American whore covered in my hot seed.

I laughed and stroked the length of my flaccid Dragon. I was entranced marveling at the size of it… even soft, it was hanging from my petite abdomen like an elephant trunk. I just watched my pale hands stroke it’s unrealistic size. I was oblivious to my surroundings or the fact that Mrs. Morrible had left taking my playmates away.

Dr. Heart and I stood alone facing each other. His handsome dark eyes blazed carnivorously, “Now tell me Hung-Lo is there anything else you would like me to do before we release you…”

“I am Hung-Ro?” I said in between fits of obnoxious laughter.

He gave me a proud and solemn nod, “You are Hung-Ro.”

FUCKING HILARIOUS!!! I WAS HUNG-LO!!! I was the big Asian bodybuilder in the mirror. I was the dude with squinty eyes and the Jackie Chan Smile.

HA!!! ME ! Hung-Lo!!!

“Answer the question, son.”

I thought as hard as I could about the question. It seemed pretty simple. I felt like there was more to it then I was considering but then my heart started racing in crazy expectation and I looked up at my creator with an eye popping grin and said, “Hung-Ro want Dr. to make mussers and fuck dragon bigger!” I laughed as I manhandled my big dick. “Hung-ro want to make Americans squeal. Hung-Ro want to be Godzirra sized!!”

“Of course,” Dr. Heart agreed exultantly. He furiously undid his belt and released his obviously frantic erection. ‘I can make you a monster …” He pushed me down with tender but firm hands. His lovely, tan and groomed American cock bounced off my chin. “Now show me how much you appreciate it…” He commanded.

I smiled big and happy. The cock in my mouth, made a bright and lucid thought scream in my brain.

“Hung-Ro rike Suki Suki!”

It made me laugh.

The laughing felt so good.

So Hung-lo said it again, “HUNG-RO RIKE SUKI SUKI!!!” And then Hung-Lo put the big yummy Caucasian snake in my puckered mouth and went to it with all the suction I had learned from many long days suckling the rubber phallus and the juicy cocks of my friends. Hung-Lo was very good at the sucky-sucky, now. In fact, Hung-Lo was a pro at it. Hung-Lo kept on the good sucky-sucky for many minutes, thinking hard about just how big and long the dragon between his legs would be when the honorable American Dr. had done his job.

Hung-Lo’s big dragon dripped white fire as Hung-Lo savored the flavor of the honorable Dr.’s yummy fuck-tool. Hung-Lo smiled big and proud, his dragon bouncing up and down.

Hung-Lo was a happy dragon too…

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