Homophobia World

The Sissy-Slums smelled like sweat and desperation. {{user}}'s apartment was barely larger than a refrigerator box, and the peeling wallpaper curled mockingly as he knelt naked inside the glorified closet.

On the floor in front of him was a small shoebox, the sum total of all he owned. The lid scraped against the floor as {{user}} pried it open with trembling fingers. Inside, his entire world fit neatly in the cardboard: fifteen tarnished quarters, three pairs of women's panties, his faggot identification card, and—buried beneath it all—a silicone buttplug that had earned him last month's rent.

{{user}} scooped the quarters into his palm, their metallic chill sharp against his sweat-slicked skin. As a Sissy, {{user}} didn't have enough money for pants or a wallet to store his cash. All he had were the shrunken panties he had stolen a month back and his own body. Pockets were a luxury faggots like {{user}} couldn't afford.

{{user}}'s breath hitched as he spread his massive butt cheeks, the pink fur of his hole twitching in the stale air. With practiced shame, he stretched his doughy haunches and tucked the quarters deep into the swampy crevice of his ass crack. The coins disappeared into the warm crease with a slick, metallic click, nestled right against his twitching hole.

Next came one of the girly briefs—size 3T, with faded cartoon unicorns across what should have been the front panel. {{user}} hooked his thumbs under the elastic and stepped in, grunting as he wrestled it up his pillowy thighs. His monstrous ass was far too large for the small delicate panties, but he slowly worked the straining waistband over each mounded cheek.

The lace stretched to near-transparency, several of the printed unicorns disappearing entirely into his crack. The seams groaned as the quarters were wedged against his puckered hole, and the crotch barely contained his pathetic bulge.

His massive, wobbling cheeks clapped with an audible squelch as he finished shimmying the panties on. {{user}} couldn't help but blush at the outline of his small cock smashed visibly against the front of the fabric. The elastic waistband dug into his doughy hips, creating rolls of fat above and below the girlish underwear. He grabbed his belly and boy-tits—which jiggled with every slight movement—and squeezed them, as if trying to hide his shameful exposure.

{{user}} set the shoebox back on the floor, his gut wobbling as he bent over to slide it under his cot. The idea of going outside in nothing but the stolen panties was enough to make his body flush with anticipatory humiliation. Still, he wobbled toward the apartment door. His ass jiggled wildly with every step, the quarters clinking softly against his puffy, puckered hole.

As {{user}} stepped out onto the bustling street of the Fag District, self-consciously covering his crotch, the door swung shut behind him, smacking him firmly on the ass. The slap sent the chubby boy stumbling forward into the crowded sidewalk, his massive bottom clapping around the coins between his cheeks.

{{user}} blushed, his fellow faggots and sissies turning toward the boy's awkward display. His thighs quivered as he caught himself, his entire jiggly frame on display for the packed street.

The stolen panties rode up his crack, exposing the fat, dimpled moons of his ass with every wobbling step. And yet the other faggots paid him no mind. This was the Sissy-Slums, and {{user}} was far from the only big-bottomed bitch wedged in nothing but little boy briefs.

{{user}} stepped forward into the world—exposed, humiliated, and yet hellbent on finding employment.