gay

Author: admin

  • The Village

    Epilogue

    “You’re choking me” my big brother whined.

    “Oh, quit being such a pussy” I said as I loosened Freddy’s bow tie. “There” I stepped back and admired him in his Tuxedo. “Wow, you look good” I said, then added, “well, you know… for you.”

    “Big words coming from someone who looks like a bunch of Disney Princess just puked all over her” Freddy said with a laugh.

    “I’m only wearing this because Maggie’s my best friend and she picked it out. But hey, she’s marrying you, so her taste is questionable at best” I said with a playful scoff. Freddy playfully punched my shoulder, then pulled me in for a hug. My big brother was the most important person in my life, we had an amazing family, but life started out a little rough for us and no matter what, Freddy was there for me.

    “Thanks for bein’ here, Izz” my big brother whispered in my ear.

    “Like I’d miss it, dipshit” I whispered back. He just squeezed me harder.

    Just then the door to the green room at the church flung open and a voice quietly said, “Get a room already” then followed up with, “You know I’m fine with you two being hetero, but you are brother and sister… so… um Ewwwww.” It was my little brother Ali.

    “ALI!!!!” I screamed in Freddy’s ear before letting him go and running over to hug my baby brother. “I was so afraid you weren’t gonna make it.”

    “Me? Nah. I would’ve walked from New York to be here if I had to.” Ali was studying drama at Julliard; he was a quiet storm. In real life he didn’t say much, he just observed everything with a smile on his face, but on stage, the dude was a presence to be reckoned with, transforming into whatever character he portrayed; my baby brother was gonna be famous someday. I was soooo proud of him. He was supposed to have been home a couple of days earlier, but there were issues with the TSA system that had basically shut down the airport, so, he’d been sitting at JFK for a day’s waiting to fly out.

    “What the hell are you wearing?” I asked mockingly as I looked him up and down.

    “It matches that ugly ass dress!” Ali shot back with a grin as he checked his look in the mirror. He was wearing a black tux with a bowtie and cummerbund that was like a vomit of color matching my hideous dress (ugh, Maggie was truly the only person in the world I would ever wear this for). “I love Mags, Fred, but I seriously question her taste” Ali joked. He was immaculate! Every detail about him polished, his boyfriend Barret was the same way… I swear those two were so… so GAY! They made our dads look like lesbians.

    Anyway, I had missed the hell outta him. I snuck up behind him as he primped in the full-length mirror, wrapped my arms around him, and rested my chin on his shoulder. Freddy came up from behind and did the same to me. “I miss you guys” I said sandwiched between my two brothers.

    “Ali! When did you get in?!” My grandmother said with excitement as she burst into the room. “My god, the color scheme is hideous, what was Maggie thinking?” She added as she fixed Ali’s bowtie, then brushed the wrinkles out of my dress.

    “I think she did it to annoy Aunt Gina, she hates it.” I shot back making Grandma Kelly snicker. Then she started barking out commands about when and where we had to line up for the ceremony, in what order, and how to walk down the aisle properly.

    “I saw Barret outside. Is Ali in here?” My Dad Zach asked as he entered the room with my other Dad at his side. The tiny room was filling up fast.

    “I’m right here” Ali answered. My two dads rushed over to their baby boy and hugged the hell outta him, no one had seen him in months. Ever since he moved to New York he’d been kind of scarce, we only saw him on holidays and special occasions, or if we ventured to New York to see him in his latest project. I still lived in Wilmington, but had my own place close to the fire station I worked out of. Freddy (and Teddy) had gone to school in Milwaukee but moved back home after graduation. He and Maggie (my best friend) reconnected and started dating (yeah, he kinda stole my best friend, but it was worth it to see the two of them happy).

    “Did you boys leave Barret out there alone?” Grandma Kelly asked.

    “He’s with Dad and Grandpa West” Daddy Zach answered.

    “Well, I’m gonna go say hello. I haven’t seen him since Christmas” Grandma Kelly said. Then she was gone, and it was just the five of us; me, my two brothers, and our dads. Daddy Sach and Daddy Zeff (as we called ‘em at home) adopted the three of us when we were young…. It’s a long story, but in summary, we hit the frigging family jackpot!  The five of us were tight.

    “You were supposed to text us when you landed” Daddy Zeff said, still hugging Ali.

    “Sorry, we were moving fast to get here on time. We stopped off at the house to drop our stuff in the attic room, changed, then zoomed over here.” My parents still lived in the old farmhouse we grew up in. Over the years they added another bedroom in the attic, and a great room onto the back to give us more space… we all loved that house, it was home.

    “I’m just glad you made it” Freddy said. The five of us talked over each other, bickered, hugged, primped, and caught up. It was like we all still lived in the old farm house together. We just picked up where we left off… like we always did. After some overdue family time, we went outside and mingled as the guests started to arrive.

    Our big day was finally here. All our family and friends were gathered to see me and Maggie get married. I grew up in a kinda untraditional family situation. We had two dads, a bunch of grandparents, about a million guncles, uncles, aunts, and cousins, and of course, my biological mother, Karen. “You look so handsome” she said as she straightened my already straight bowtie. Okay, total sidebar here… what is it with people straightening bowties? I never wore bowties, but it was my wedding day, and I swear that every person I saw straightened that flipping thing… and by the way, it was never crooked when I checked it in the mirror. Anyway… I hadn’t seen my mom in about a year. She was just a kid when she had me and Izzy, then our biological father took off and left her to deal with us. She did some stupid shit over the years and was always in trouble; in and out of jail, on and off probation until me and Izzy were teenagers. She loved us, but she kept messin’ up, and frankly she had no idea how to do the right thing by us. Our dads did their best to help us have a relationship with her, but they always put our wellbeing first, which meant there were a few years where we weren’t allowed to see her. There were also a few where we didn’t want to see her, but to her credit she finally got her shit together. She moved to Chicago several years ago, married a great guy, Ralph, and started a new life. Over the years we mended fences (then tore them down, then mended them, then drove through them with a tank, then mended them again… this was life with my mother), but no matter what happened, we knew she loved us, and we never stopped loving her. When all was said and done, we ended up in a good place and I was happy she made it down for the wedding.

    So, I mentioned I had a huge, collected family, well, one of my cousins was Teddy, he was also my best friend… and my best man. We were adopted at about the same time; he was adopted by my dads’ best friends (Uncle Brody and Uncle Max), and we grew up across the street from each other. We were best friends all through school, soccer teammates for over almost two decades, we even shared a flat in college at UWM.

    The poor guy went through some rough shit a couple of years ago. Like I said, we were both adopted, but our situations were different. I knew where I came from and had a (sometimes rocky as hell) relationship with my biological mother, but Teddy had no clue about his roots. He was abandoned as a baby, floated around the foster system for a while, then got adopted by Uncle Brody and Uncle Max. He had a great childhood, but when we were teenagers, he started wondering about his bio parents and went on a mission to find them. He spent years trying to track them down and kept coming up empty. Well, when we were in college, he got this DNA test that listed possible relatives. He followed a bunch of leads and finally discovered who his parents were. His mother died right after he was born, but his father was still alive and lived in Illinois, less than two hours from campus. One Spring break we jumped into my old Jetta and went to track the guy down. We got to this big house in the suburbs of Chicago where he supposedly lived, and parked in front of it. We just sat in the car talking for like an hour while Teddy tried to get up the courage to knock on the door. Well, we were lost in conversation when the guy knocked on the passenger window, holy shit… he looked like future Teddy! Seriously, it was him in like 20 years!!! Well long story short, Teddy told the guy that he was his son and the guy basically told him to fuck off… I’m actually saying it a lot nicer than he did. That really fucked Teddy up. He pretty much stayed drunk for the rest of the semester, and didn’t give a shit about anything; he was in a bad place.

    That summer when we went back home to North Carolina, I told my dads’ what happened… I didn’t want to narc on my best friend, but he needed help and I was in way over my head. My dad, Seth is a psychologist and he helped him big time. I mean seriously helped him. The two of them met several times a week, and by the end of the summer, Teddy had told his dad’s all about what happened with his father. As always, his dads and our entire village (that’s how we all refer to our collected family) helped him come to grips with it. The unconditional love helped him deal with the rejection of his biological father; by the time we went back to school that fall, Teddy was Teddy again and got his life back on track; he buckled down and made up for wasted time. He was closer to his family than ever, calling them several times a day and going home every chance he got.

    After graduation, we both moved back home to North Carolina. I took a job as a social worker, funny thing is… it was Ms. Elkin’s old job. Ms. Elkin was one of my heroes. She was there when Izzy and I were babies and our mom was in and out of jail. She always made sure we were safe and had what we needed.  She eventually placed us in the best permanent home possible, with our dads; She did the same for Ali and Teddy too. She stood up for us in court when the judge tried to inject his narrow-minded views of family into our adoption. She was the reason we were a family and I was proud to take her place.

    Teddy went to work with his dad at the candle company in downtown Wilmington, taking over marketing and sales. The two of us started hanging out with my sister and Maggie… like all the time. It was no surprise that they knew the best bars and clubs.

    Izzy became a fulltime firefighter (I dare you to call her a fireman to her face) and started working weird hours so she wasn’t around as much. Then Teddy met Ana, a media sales rep from Raleigh, and started spending all his time with her. So, with Izzy and Teddy preoccupied, that left me and Maggie. We started hanging out more and she went from my sister’s best friend to my best friend, to my soulmate. And now, we were about to walk down the aisle with our collected family… our village… there to support us.

    “I want to stay in New York and be on Broadway, I love live theater” my boyfriend Barret explained to my grandparents who were giving him the third degree about what he wanted to do with his life after graduation. My grandmother was driving the interrogation, she was an overbearing control freak who drove us all insane (so much drama). I flipping loved her! She accepted all of us kids unconditionally, as her own, and was always there for us (adopted or biological made no difference to her).

    I wasn’t even two years old when my dads, adopted me. My mom died leaving me without a home or family. Thanks to Ms. Elkin it wasn’t long before I became a Westin-Hall; I was so young that it was really the only life I’ve ever known. I loved my family, I loved who I was, and I loved my name (I kept it as my stage name too). I was so contented that I never really even thought about my biological family. Yeah, I looked different from my siblings, Izzy and Freddy were biologically related and looked alike. I definitely looked different, but I was good with that because they never made me feel different; we were siblings. Freddy was always my protector, he treated me just like he treated his natural sister. And Izzy… she teased the crap out of me but always had my back. I remember when I was about thirteen and just realizing that I was gay, some bigger kid bullied me… Izzy kicked his ass!!! In her words “nobody picks on my brother but me.” She got suspended from school for two days for that, but my parents didn’t punish her, they understood. Our family always stuck together.

    When I turned eighteen, my dads sat me down and told me about my biological parents. They had met my father before my adoption was finalized; he had given them an envelope to give me when I asked about my roots (which I never really did), or when I became an adult. The envelope contained pictures of my parents, baby pictures of me, a family health history, and a letter from my father explaining how my mother had died, and why he couldn’t take me. I felt for my father, but I also felt that things worked out exactly as they were supposed to. So, I guess that makes my story unique compared to a lot of other adopted kids.

    Freddy and Izzy had always tried hard to have a relationship with their biological mother and always seemed to get burned (Karen was kind of crazy). Teddy wanted to be wanted by his biological father so bad that when he was rejected it broke his soul… man that was hard to watch, but our village rallied around and helped him through it. Teddy’s twin sisters, Abbi, and Olli, had an open relationship with their mother. She sent them birthday cards and they met up with her every couple of years. Me? I was Ali Westin-Hall. My dads were Zach and Seth. My siblings were Freddy and Izzy. I had an uncountable number of relatives and people who loved me. That was more than enough for me; I knew exactly where I came from. An old farmhouse just outside of Wilmington North Carolina; that was home.

    Anyway, I looked over at Barret still being interrogated by the grandparents, and watched in admiration as he just leaned into it. I loved that guy! We met at an audition for some shitty play off Broadway a couple of years ago (waaaaaaay off Broadway… like it might as well have been in Brooklyn). I got the lead; he got the main supporting role. I liked him right away. I’m not shy, I just never really talk to people, I kind of take stuff in… I love people watching. Then there’s Barret, every human being is his very best friend. He came up to me while I was waiting to audition and introduced himself, then we started making up back stories for all the people waiting to audition. He had me cackling out loud, there was an instant connection.

    He’s outgoing, full of life, and a hot little muscle Asian (my guncles drool over him at family events and he loves it). We’re probably the only two gay guys around that don’t have interesting coming out stories. Barret claims his parents always knew he was gay and just never cared (his parents are awesome by the way… they live in Connecticut and come to every single show either of us are in no matter how minor or shitty the part). As for me, I came home from school at about thirteen years old with my friend Roger, introduced him as my boyfriend and no one cared or even reacted (although I’m sure my dads’ talked about it later). Like I said, I’m Ali Westin-Hall, that’s all that ever mattered to my family.

    “There’s my Baba Ghanoush and his little egg roll” Auntie Mo squealed as he came over to us. “I was so scared you boys wouldn’t make it. Don’t you both look so…. so… Broadway fabulous!” Auntie Mo (AKA Mauricio) was one of Daddy Zeff’s old friends from Phoenix, he was probably the most flaming of all the guys in our collected family, but I loved the hell out of him, and he loved the hell out of all of us. He had an arm around Barret as he talked with us out on the church steps for a while before Grandma Kelly started wrangling the crowd to move inside the church to start the wedding.

    Who in the hell would’ve thought that Freddy and Maggie would end up together. “You treat her right or we’ll kick your ass” I whispered to my son as me and Seth walked him down the aisle.

    “You don’t scare me” Freddy said with a chuckle, “but Uncle Dylan F’ing terrifies me, and he said the same thing, so don’t sweat it.” The three of us quietly chuckled as we walked down the aisle.

    We knew everyone on both sides of the aisle, I guess that’s the joy of your kid marrying the kid of close friends. Hell, the eight of us basically all parented our kids together. Me, Seth, Gina, Dylan, Brody, Max, Eli, and Riley had an even dozen between us. Three kids per family… we didn’t plan it that way, it just happened. Over the years we all vacationed together, ate pizza together on Friday nights, did all kinds of activities together on the weekends and over the summers. Our kids were all great friends and the parents all helped each other, whichever parent was closest was the one in charge and they all knew it. For the most part, we all agreed on how to raise our kids so things just naturally blended. We got to the altar, hugged our son, then took our seats in the front row.

    Next the couples started to walk down the aisle, Teddy and Izzy were the best man and maid of honor, they walked down first. “God, Izzy is beautiful, she even makes that fugly dress look amazing” Seth whispered as we sat in the front pew.

    “You aint got no taste, Darlin’” BA whispered from behind us, “Them dresses are gorgeous, I picked ‘em out my own damn self.” Seth and I both chuckled an apology just before DJ and Mercedes walked by followed by Ali and Olli, then Louis V. (V for Vuitton – Eli and Riley’s middle child) and Abbi, and lastly Huey G. (G for Givenchy – Eli and Riley’s youngest) walked the aisle with Gina and Dylan’s youngest Lindsey. Maggie and Freddy insisted that all their “siblings” be in the wedding. With all the kids were lined up on the altar (it was an amazing sight), the music stopped. Everyone turned to the back of the church as the string quartet up in the loft started playing ‘Here Comes The Bride.’

    “Oh my god, she looks amazing” I muttered under my breath.

    “Freddy better not f this up” Seth responded.

    The beautiful bride made her was down the aisle on the white carpet with her father on one arm and her mother on the other. With all eyes on her, she took her time and soaked up the attention (as her and Izzy tended to do). When she finally made it to the altar, her parents turned her over to Freddy… the bride and groom just stared at each other adoringly, they really were perfect for each other and clearly in love.

    Gina and Dylan stepped off the altar and walked over to me and Seth… the four of us congratulated ourselves on a job well done and ended with a hug.

    The ceremony was beautiful with every minute detail tended to… of course it was! Between Gina, Seth, Kelly, and BA nothing was left to chance. At the end of it all, our eldest son was married to the woman of his dreams and our families became even more interwoven.

    I could not believe how perfect everything was. I also could not believe that Freddy and Maggie were married. But there we were at the reception, with all our friends and family from North Carolina, Wisconsin, Phoenix, St Louis, and all points beyond there to witness the union. So many people, including so many of the villagers who had become a major part of our lives over the years.

    The food was amazing (thanks to Colton), the atmosphere was loud and celebratory, and the toasts were flowing as we launched the happy couple into their new life. I was mingling with the crowd when a spoon clinked against a glass and Gina took the microphone. “Will the father of the bride, and the fathers of the groom please join me? And also, Max, Brody, Eli, and Riley, please.” We all joined her at the microphone, where she made a beautiful toast to the couple that ended it with, “Freddy and Maggie, I wanted to have all these folks up here with me because they all played a huge role in raising you both. We all watched you grow, helped you through every freaking illness imaginable, and were there for the good times and the bad. Now we lift our glasses in honor of your marriage… Seth, Zach, Dylan, anyone… anything to add?”

    I took the mic and added, “Why don’t you all stand. Everyone in this room was part of these two kids becoming the amazing adults they are.” Gina nodded as the guests all stood and raised their glasses in a toast to the happy couple.

    Looking out at all these amazing people in our lives, I couldn’t help BUT think about how it all started. When I walked into my dorm suite for the first time all those years ago and met the most beautiful, hottest (presumably straight), blonde jock, and the loud chick down the hall, I could never have imagined it would lead to this day. This life… this, this, this…perfect world that we created with the friends we made in college. But there we were, living the dream, and watching the next generation start their lives surrounded by so many people who loved them.

    The moment was perfect. Well, almost… then we heard that familiar riff, and all our kids yelling a collective “hey!!!” The next thing I know, our entire family was on the floor dancing to the Romantics, ‘What I like About You.’ Now. Now, it was perfect.

    The End (Of Seth’s Version)

    Author’s note: Day-um! 160 chapters of The Village – that may be a GD record. This series may be done, but the story will live on in ‘Villagers’ coming soon. I appreciate all the comments, ratings, and emails; they keep me writing. I know a lot of you are too shy to comment, but if you’ve been with The Village for 160 Chapters, I hope you’ll share your comments. I’d love to hear what you think of the epilogue, and, as always, your emails are greatly appreciated. THANK YOU ALL for inspiring me.

  • Son’s bbc best friend turned me into a bottom slut

    Jared’s message lit up my phone, and my slutty heart raced—I craved being his bitch again, but I was terrified of my boys finding out. Ben and Dave had been fucking my holes raw, and I couldn’t break Ben’s heart by letting him know his best friend was pounding his dad behind his back. At least Dave was heading back to university, one less cock to worry about. As I dropped Dave off, he hugged me tight, grabbing my muscle ass hard. “I’ll miss you, Dad, and this juicy fucking ass,” he growled, his fingers digging into my cheeks, making my hole twitch with need. Back home, I was a mess, plotting how to keep Jared’s monster dick away from Ben’s passionate fucking so I wouldn’t get caught.

    Then Jared video-called me on the subway, his horse-sized black cock swinging, fully naked, precum glistening on the tip. “Yo, my bitch, how you doin’? I’ll be at your place to fuck—find a spot,” he barked before hanging up. My cock throbbed painfully in my pants, but I was so ashamed, surrounded by passengers staring at my flushed, sweaty face. More than embarrassment, I was panicked about managing Jared’s filthy fucking while Ben was home. I had no clue how to pull it off.

    When I got home, that bastard Jared was already there, playing video games with Ben on the same couch where I first became a slut. Jared stood to hug me, saying, “Hi, Mr. Davidson,” for Ben’s sake, but whispered, “Hi, my bitch,” in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. My heart pounded—I thought I’d get caught today. As they gamed, Jared gave me a sly signal, his eyes promising a brutal fuck. I mumbled, “I’m gonna rest in my room, boys,” and left, my hole already leaking in anticipation. Soon, Jared made a lame excuse about the toilet and followed me. Ben was too busy gaming to notice.

    I was already on all fours in the master bedroom—my fuck bedroom now—my hairy hole gaping, dripping wet, ready to submit to my master. Jared didn’t say a word, just spat on his monstrous cock, the thick glob of spit mixing with his precum, and rammed it into me, his balls slapping my ass with a wet smack. I screamed, the sound barely muffled by Ben’s gaming headset downstairs. “Nice bitch,” Jared sneered, fucking me mercilessly, my ass cheeks clapping loud, the sound echoing off the walls. I could hear Ben cheering over his game while Jared’s dick tore me apart, his veiny shaft scraping my insides, hitting my prostate with every brutal thrust. His thick cum flooded my guts early, my stomach bulging from the hot, creamy load, the pressure making my eyes water. I came hands-free, splattering the bed with ropes of my own cum, but Jared got pissed. “You forgot my message, slut—I’m locking you,” he growled, pulling out a tiny chastity cage. He flipped me on my back, my leaking cock exposed, my balls swollen and aching, and before I could beg, I heard footsteps on the stairs—Ben.

    We scrambled into clothes, drenched in sweat, huffing as Ben opened the door. “What are you doing here, Jared?” he asked, confused. Jared lied, “Guest washroom’s broken, so I asked Mr. Davidson. Something wrong, dude?” Ben laughed it off, clueless, but the room reeked of musk and sex, my cum staining the sheets. That night, Ben planned a romantic fuck with roses on his bed, but Jared called, demanding I come to his house to “finish business.” I lied to Ben about work, and he got mad—angrier than I’d ever seen him.

    Jared opened his door naked, his room a nasty mess—cum stains crusting the walls, stinking socks everywhere, the air thick with his musk. He grabbed my collar, dragged me to his bed, and shoved his horse cock down my throat, skull-fucking me until I gagged and coughed, spit and precum dripping down my chin, my throat raw from his relentless pounding. I begged for mercy, my voice hoarse, but I loved every filthy second, my tongue swirling around his shaft, tasting his salty precum as I swallowed every drop of his thick cum like the slut I am. Then he kicked my chest hard, making me fall back, legs up, my hairy hole exposed and twitching. He pulled out the chastity cage, and I begged him not to lock me—my wife might catch me—but I was really scared of Ben finding out. Jared didn’t care, locking my cock in the tiny cage, the metal biting into my sensitive flesh, the pain making me scream as he fucked me all night like a rabid animal. My balls turned blue, the chastity torture driving me wild, my screams echoing as he slammed into my prostate, his balls slapping my ass with every thrust. I couldn’t cum, the pressure in my locked cock unbearable. Morning came, and he kicked me out, laughing as I came from the pain, my cum squirting hands-free through the cage, soaking my pants in shame, the wet spot spreading as I stumbled out.

    I rushed home, changed before Ben woke up, and made breakfast, but Ben wanted to eat my ass. I pushed him away—Jared’s cum was still leaking from my wrecked hole, thick globs dripping down my thighs, and he’d see the cage with Jared’s name on it. Ben got upset, his face dark with frustration. For days, I kept dodging him, my excuses getting weaker, my cock throbbing painfully in that tiny cage. I begged Jared to unlock me, but that bastard ignored me, knowing I was desperate for cock. Ben, feeling ignored, decided he couldn’t take it anymore. One night, I overheard him on the phone in his room, his voice low but angry. “Dave, Dad’s been ignoring me,” he said, his tone sharp, almost breaking. “He won’t even touch me—I don’t know what’s wrong. He keeps pushing me away, and I can’t stand it.” I heard Dave laugh on the other end, a deep, mocking sound, before his voice turned serious. “Ignoring you, huh? That’s not like Dad—he’s usually a cock-hungry slut for us. Let’s see what’s up with the old man. I’ll come home and fix this—maybe train you up at the gym so you’re strong enough to handle him and his needy ass.” Ben’s voice softened, relieved, but I felt a chill. Dave was coming back, and I knew he’d dig until he found out everything.

    When Dave arrived, he confronted me, his eyes narrow. “Why you ignoring Ben, Dad?” he asked, arms crossed. I lied, stammering, “I’m worried about his health—we shouldn’t fuck daily.” Dave smirked, buying it, and decided to take Ben to the gym—my gym, where Jared had fucked me in the locker room before.

    At the gym, I saw Jared training, his evil smile making me panic. Ben waved at him, they chatted, and we all worked out together. I went to the locker room to change, and as I bent over, Jared shoved his entire cock into me in one thrust, the sudden stretch making my hole burn. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t—I tried to push him away, begging, “Jared, stop, my sons are here!” But he grabbed my neck, pinned my head to the bench, and fucked me hard, my body submitting to his dick despite my fear, my hole clenching around his shaft as he pounded me relentlessly. His precum lubed my insides, the wet squelching sounds filling the room as he growled, “Take it, you filthy bitch.” Ten minutes in, the door clicked—Ben and Dave walked in, shouting, “Dad!”

    They were shocked, and for once, Jared looked worried, though he kept thrusting, his cock pulsing inside me. Dave sneered, “WTF, Dad, your cunt can’t wait, so you’re fucking Ben’s best friend?” They apologized to Jared, thinking I dragged him into this, clueless that he turned me into a bitch. Jared shrugged, “It’s fine, bro,” but my boys got hard watching me get pounded, their cocks straining in their shorts. Dave whipped out his thick jock cock, shoving it down my throat, the salty taste of his precum hitting my tongue. “Since you’re a slut now, Dad, it doesn’t matter who fucks you,” he said, then invited Ben to join. Ben rammed his cock into my hole alongside Jared, their dicks stretching me to the limit, a double penetration that made my eyes roll back. We fucked like animals, the room stinking of sweat, musk, and sex, my screams echoing outside as their balls slapped against me, their thrusts perfectly synced. They all came in sync, flooding my throat and ass, my stomach bulging with their hot, thick cum. Dave’s protein-packed load was the heaviest I’d ever swallowed, coating my throat like a creamy shake. I squirted hands-free, cum spraying Dave through the cage, and they all saw the chastity cage with Jared’s name on it.

    “WTF, Jared?” they shouted, demanding answers. Jared lied, saying I pulled him into this, and my boys turned on me. I admitted I was a slut who couldn’t control my lust, begging them to understand. Jared smirked, suggesting, “Can we do it again tonight?” My boys grinned evilly, nodding. “Dad’s gotta pay for his deeds,” they said. Now, all three fuck me together, their names carved on my chastity cage. From a straight dad to a bitch slave bottom—this is my life now. Thanks for li

  • My first time

    It was a cool night in Perth, around 18C and i was laying in bed feeling way to horny for just beating off so i decided to bite the bullett and try out craigslist for some fun. I posted that i was looking for some fun in what i thought was the M4W section, however i had inadvertantly put it in the M4M bit. I am quite an attractive guy with a nice build to me, about 6’2″ with a nice firm body, not cut but toned enough. Within about 10 minutes my email was flooded with horny guys looking for a guy to fuck. I was a little confused until i saw my mistake in posting my ad, but looking at all those cocks in their different shapes and sizes got me feeling really horny. As i looked at all these e-mails i came across one from a guy who had included a face pic. Even though i didn’t consider myself gay at the time i found him really attractive. He had nice dark features and looked to be about 6ft tall. As i had been drinking a little i for some reason shot back a reply to him asking to see his cock and within five minutes he replied with a pic of a nice 7 1/2 inch cock that had a nice fat shaft and a tapered head. On my next email to him i said that i wasn’t sure what i wanted to do with him and that i couldn’t host but i knew of a nice quiet park nearby that had a disused jetty that we could get to. He responded instantly to this saying that he would be 15 minutes. “Fifteen minutes” i thought, “shit what am i doing?”

    Fifteen minutes later though i was waiting down at the park on my street hiding behind a tree watching all the cars go by. Then i saw a hotted up ute slowly cruising up the street and pull into the carpark opposite the park. I gulped in some deep breaths and watched as the guy that i had emailed hopped out of the car. He wandered over to the park looking around for where i was, checking his I-phone and looking some more. It was now or never so i decided to call out to him. “Hey man, you looking for the jetty?”…….”Yeah man, where the fuck are ya?”…..This was it, so i walked out of the shadows and greeted this anonymous guy. “Follow me man i’ll show you the way down.”

    We made some bullshit small talk whilst we walked down and he kept grabbing at my arse (i do have a real cute butt) and asking what types of things i wanted to do. I really didn’t know but said that i just wanted to see where it all went and that anything was possible. When we got down to the jetty we stopped and looked around to see if anyone else was nearby. With the coast clear i turned around to find him standing right there in front of me with a devilish grin on his face.

    He leant forward and put his hand in the small of my back pulling me in closer to kiss me. I didn’t stop him and his kiss started to get me stirring in my pants. Soon i was kissing him back just as hard as he was kissing me. He started to move his hands down to my arse and grind his hardening dick into mine as we stood there entwined in each others arms. I started to get into it more and more and i got brave enough to move my hands from his shoulders down to his waist, i wasn’t game to touch his dick so i just held him there on the hips and continued kissing. In the meanwhile i could feel his cock pressing harder and harder into my groin and i started to want to touch it more and more.

    After what seemed like hours of doing this (probably 5 minutes) i became a little more brave and put my hand over his bulge and felt the amazing hardness of another guy for the first time. He started to moan and grind hard into my hand whilst he stuck his hands down my pants and started to play with my arse some more. This was getting too much for me and i broke away from him and stepped back. “What’s wrong?” he said. I regained my composure and replied “Nothing man, just wanted to take off my top and i’d love to see you take off yours too”

    So there we stood, both with our tops off looking at each other with lust filled eyes. I could see the head of his dick poking out of the top of his pants and decided that now was as gooda time as any. I moved towards him and fumbled with his fly, slowly pulling it down and pulling his dick out to play with. Feeling him in my hand, skin to skin had me thinking so many different thoughts i could barely concentrate. I tried to use the same techniques i use on myself and low and behold he started to get real hard. We kissed again as i continued to play with his cock slowly stroking him, feeling precum all over my hand. He whispered in my ear “Do you want to suck it?”…..”Yes” was all i managed to squeeze out of my mouth before i found myself kneeling down infront of him.

    I didn’t really know what to do but i knew what i liked when chicks had sucked me off and i had watched enough porn to know that going deep is the ultimate thing to make the guy feel in command. So i started off by running my tongue up and down his shaft while he stood there. Slowly tracing around the head then back up and down the shaft. After a little of this i put my lips around the head and slowly took him into my mouth. I was really starting to enjoy his taste and it prompted me to take him deeper in getting almost to his balls before i gagged and had to take him out. But this was only for a second as i wanted him in my mouth so bad by this point it wasn’t fair. I grabbed him by the shaft with my hand and started to bob up and down on his dick, sucking gently and running my tongue up and down the vein whilst jacking him off. He was starting to get a really deep breathing thing going on and was holding my head when he suddenly pulled away. Now it was my turn to be worried, “Sorry i said, did i get you with my teeth?”……”No it wasn’t that” he replied, “I just don’t want to cum yet.” This made me feel pretty good that i had got him so hot and wild so quick.

    He pulled off his pants and asked me to do the same and to turn around on all fours so he could eat my butt, at this point he could’ve asked me to climb Everest without a complaint from me so i did what he asked. I had never had anyone licking my butt before and boy was i pissed about that once he started. The sensations ran the whole length of my body and i felt my balls tingling in ways they never had before. I could also feel my hole starting to open up just a little when he pushed a finger straight up inside me. At first it felt a little uncomfortable but as more and more of his saliva made its way into me it felt better and better. Soon i was pushing back at his finger moaning and trying to say things that were sexy, which in reality were probably just more moans. Soon he had worked another finger in and was fingering me quite fast. I couldn’t believe how great it was feeling when i finally managed to blurt out three desernable words, “Fuck me please!”………”You sure? he replied…………Almost with anger in my voice i demanded that he fuck me now……….”I’m sorry, i don’t have any condoms” he said right back. At this point i was beyond caring and i told him that he could just pull out when he was going to cum….. “Well if you’re sure you want that i will be real gentle on ya”

    I turned around and sucked him till he was really covered in my saliva then turned back around looking out over the river with him behind me. He took some lube out of his pocket and rubbed it into my arse (why he had lube with no condoms i will never know) getting two fingers back in me. I knew that his dick was way bigger than two fingers and was happy when he managed to get three in. He kept adding more and more lube into my arse until i could feel myself absolutely gaping around his fingers. But then he pulled them out and i got a bit more nervous. Then there it was, the feeling of the head of his dick at my hole. Slowly he swirled it around the edges of my hole picking up the excess lube then slowly pushing in the head……”Shit!” i yelled as he pushed in. But there was no stopping him now and he pushed it halfway in before stopping to let me adjust to this new feeling. After about a minute he pushed in a little further and the pain started to subside. Slowly he moved just a little in then a little out getting me a looser and looser until i wasn’t all tense any more and he could push it all home. This was the moment that it all clicked for me and started to feel so good i could barely breathe. He rested there for a few seconds and leaned down and kissed my neck. I turned around ans kissed him as he slowly pulled back out halfway before he thrust back in again.

    Now i knew that i was going to be OK with this guy fucking me i started to get hard again and pushed back into him to let him know that i wanted him to fuck me properly now. He certainly didn’t have a problem with that and was soon pumping away at my tight little chute moaning and groaning telling me how tight i was and how hot i looked with his cock in me. It felt so good feeling that bare dick rubbing my insides that i almost came there and then but i wanted to hold out as long as i could. After a while he started to really slam my hole and pushed me to the ground so i was laying on my stomach with my legs spread as wide as i could and i instinctively raised my arse as high in the air as i could to get him in nice and deep. He started to breathe deeply again and i told him that i didn’t want him to come yet and he stopped and pulled out.

    This time it was me that was in charge and i told him to lay down on his back so i could ride him. As i sat down on his hot cock i leant forward and kissed him whispering in his ear “You have made me realize that all i need sexually from now is a dick like yours”……he laughed at me then kissed me deeper than he had earlier before saying “If i can stick my dick in an arse like yours i don’t need anything more” At this i started to bounce up and down on his cock, squeezing my arse tight around his shaft moaning all the time. Pure lust was now coursing through my veins and my common sense had long since left me. He started to get that deep breathing thing happening again and said i better get off or he would come. I’m not sure what had come over me but i quickly told him that i wanted him to fill me with his cum. He smiled up at me and said “Well at least let me do that doggy style.”…….I hopped off and turned around as he got behind me and just slammed his dick right into me and went straight up to full speed. I was right on the edge of cumming at this point and started to moan so loud i thought that everyone in the neighbourhood must have heard me. I had just noticed that one of the feelings i felt earlier had been his balls slapping into mine when he grabbed my hips really hard and started to drive real deep in me. I realized that he was about to cum and made my little chute as tight as i could for him. Then he started to cum in me, jet after jet of hot sticky cum shooting up my arse. I was surprised that i could feel it but i was loving it so much that it sent me over the edge and i came all over the jetty whilst he kept slamming into me still cumming. He mustn’t have blown for weeks as it started to leak out my arse while he kept on cumming in me. I felt totally dirty and was loving it. He leant down and kissed me before slowly pulling out of my hole and it was the best post sex kiss i’ve ever had. Having an arse full of cum and cock whilst being kissed by the guy who put it there is the best.

    After he pulled out we just lay there on the jetty for a while talking about everything that happened and how i had enjoyed my first time. He suggested that we might do it again sometime and this ongoing relationship lead to me living with him. I’ve had sex with other guys since, sometimes with my man involved but none have taken my heart like he did.

  • His Girlfriend Doesn’t Know

    His Girlfriend Doesn’t Know He Dropped the towel for me

    I was pacing. Literally just walking back and forth in my room like I hadn’t just lived through the horniest, most deranged two hours of my entire life. My stomach was flipping like crazy. My skin felt electric. I couldn’t sit still.

    Every time I heard the pipes groan or the bathroom door creak, I jumped like a goddamn cartoon character. The text was still open on my screen:

    After that… I’m coming to your room. Be ready.

    Be ready? Be ready for what? For him to chicken out? For him to lose his mind and go back to Paige like nothing happened? Or for him to walk in here, drop that towel, and finally fuck me like we both knew he wanted to?

    I sat down on my bed, then stood right back up. I couldn’t even decide if I should be wearing clothes. Like, what’s the move here? Boxers and nothing else? Naked and spread-eagle? T-shirt and shorts like this is still some kind of casual, bro-y misunderstanding?

    He was taking forever.

    I kept checking my phone. No new texts.

    He said he was coming.

    God, my dick was already hard. Just from thinking about it. From remembering the way his hands felt on me, how he spat on my hole like it was nothing, how his tongue went so deep it made my knees shake. No guy had ever done that to me before. Not like him. Not like Liam.

    A few minutes later, I heard the shower cut off.

    And then?

    Silence.

    I froze.

    The hallway creaked.

    My door opened.

    And there he was. Liam. Hair damp. Shirtless. Just a towel slung low on his hips. His chest was rising and falling like he’d run a fucking marathon. His eyes found mine instantly, like he was afraid if he looked away he’d lose the nerve.

    I couldn’t even move. I just stared.

    He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

    Click.

    Then silence again.

    I tried to say something cool. Something chill. Something that didn’t sound like I was losing my fucking mind.

    “You good?” I asked, voice hoarse.

    Liam nodded slowly. His eyes dragged down my body and back up again.

    “You said be ready,” I added, standing up now, heart in my throat.

    “I didn’t think you’d actually wait,” he muttered.

    “I did.”

    He didn’t say anything else. He just dropped the towel.

    And yeah, okay, maybe I gasped. Maybe I stared too long. But holy fuck, Liam was big. Thick and already half-hard, his cock heavy against his thigh like it knew it was about to ruin me.

    He stepped forward. Real slow. I backed up instinctively until the backs of my knees hit the bed.

    Then he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me.

    And holy fuck, this wasn’t some soft, experimental thing. He kissed me like he meant it. Like he needed it. Tongue in my mouth, hands grabbing my ass again like he was claiming it.

    He pulled back a second later, forehead resting against mine. His voice was all messed up.

    “I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispered. “Your ass. Your moans. The way you looked back at me when I was eating you out… fuck, bro. I’m so screwed.”

    “Then screw me,” I whispered.

    Liam looked at me like he was breaking.

    Then his mouth twisted into this smug, cocky smirk.
    “Let’s see what your mouth’s all about first.”

    He turned, walked over to my bed like it was his, and laid down flat—legs spread wide, towel long gone, his cock now fully hard and resting against his abs. He looked so relaxed. So in control. One hand behind his head like this was some kind of photo shoot, the other lazily gripping the base of his dick.

    Then he said it.
    “Come here.”

    And I fucking did. My knees hit the mattress first, and I crawled up between his thighs like I’d been waiting for this moment all my life. My eyes were locked on his cock the whole way—thick, flushed, leaking just a little. It twitched when I licked my lips.

    “You gonna make me regret this?” he muttered, voice low, eyes heavy.

    “Only if you hate blowjobs.”

    That got a crooked grin out of him.

    I leaned in slow, just to tease him a little, let my breath hit the tip. His thighs tensed instantly. And then I finally wrapped my lips around him—soft at first, slow. I wanted to savor this. I wanted him to savor it.

    He exhaled hard. “Fuck.”

    I sank lower, taking more of him into my mouth, letting my tongue swirl around the head while my hand worked the rest. His cock was heavy and hot and pulsing against my tongue. I could feel how badly he wanted this. How badly he’d needed this.

    “God, your mouth feels insane,” he groaned, hips shifting like he couldn’t stop himself. His hand found the back of my head, not pushing, just holding, fingers curling in my hair. “You ever done this before?”

    I pulled off with a grin, spit trailing from my lip. “Couple times.”

    “Fuck, bro,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip. “Keep going.”

    I did. I bobbed my head slow at first, then faster, tasting every inch, letting him hear how wet and filthy I was making it. His abs clenched. His breathing got ragged.

    And then, he growled it. Voice low. Rough. Possessive.

    “I wanna fuck you,” he said.

    “I’ve been horny looking at that ass since this evening.”

    Author Note:

    Thank you so much for reading my stories. In case you want to support me, I have a lot of erotica on  Patreon Consider checking out. All parts released on Patreon.

  • A Stranger Busted My Ass At The Music Festival

    It was a hot summer day, and the outdoor music festival was in full swing. The crowd was moving to the beat of electronic music, creating an electric and energetic atmosphere. I, Alex, let myself be carried away by the human tide, feeling the excitement in the air. With my body covered in sweat, I felt alive and eager for what the night had in store for me.

    I made my way into the crowd, looking for a spot near the main stage. The music thundered in my ears, the bass thumping in my chest. In the midst of the chaos, I felt a push and lost my balance. I fell straight into a tall, muscular man standing right behind me.

    “I’m sorry!” I exclaimed as I quickly stood up, embarrassed by my clumsiness. But before I could take a step back, I felt his firm hand on my waist, stopping me.

    “No problem, kid,” he said with a mischievous smile on his face. His voice was deep and husky, and his intense gaze sent shivers down my spine.

    I froze, shocked by his reaction. He was a handsome man, with dark hair and piercing eyes. His body was sculpted to perfection, with defined muscles that showed beneath his tight t-shirt. The scent of sweat and pheromones filled my nostrils, and my heart began to pound.

    The music continued to play, and the crowd around us danced wildly. The stranger took advantage of the confusion and hugged me, pressing my body against his. I felt his firm chest pressing against my back, and his crotch rubbing against my ass. His erection was evident, and my own arousal began to grow.

    “Do you like music?” he asked in my ear, his breath hot on my neck. His voice was like a caress, and his hand slid down my abdomen, caressing my exposed skin.

    “Yes,” I answered with difficulty, feeling my voice crack. My mind was in a whirlwind of sensations. The heat of his body, the rhythm of the music, and the pressure of his erection against my ass had me on the brink of ecstasy.

    With every movement of the crowd, her body rubbed against mine. Her hand ventured lower, brushing against the zipper of my shorts. I felt her index finger trace a path to my crotch, caressing the fabric covering my growing erection.

    “Do you like the way you feel?” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. His voice was a seductive whisper, and his hand moved skillfully, stroking my cock through the fabric.

    I was lost in a sea of ​​pleasure, unable to think clearly. My body responded to his touches, and my cock throbbed, eager to be released. I wondered if he was feeling the same intensity, if his erection was as real as mine.

    In a moment of bravery, I turned to him, bringing us face to face. Our eyes met, and I saw a spark of desire in his. His gaze traveled down my body, stopping at my parted lips and moving down to my bare torso.

    “You have an incredible body,” he said, his voice husky and thick with desire. His hand slid down my waist, gripping my ass firmly. “And a cock that’s begging to be released.”

    His words made me shudder. I felt exposed and vulnerable, but at the same time, eager for more. The music continued to play, and the crowd around us seemed to have disappeared, leaving just the two of us in a world of pleasure and desire.

    Without a word, I leaned into him, seeking his lips. Our mouths met in a passionate kiss, our tongues exploring and claiming possession. His taste was sweet yet wild, and his erection pressed against mine, creating a delicious friction.

    With each movement, our bodies rubbed together, creating a rhythm of their own. His hand slid down my back, gripping my hair as he pushed me against him. I felt his breathing quicken, and I knew he was enjoying it as much as I was.

    The music changed to a slower, more sensual beat, and our movements synchronized with the melody. Our bodies moved as one, sweaty and eager. His hand ventured beneath my shirt, caressing my breast and pinching my hardened nipples.

    “I want you,” I whispered between kisses, my voice husky and full of need. “I want to feel you, touch you, possess you.”

    He smiled, his eyes shining with a mischievous light. “And I love you, little one. But this isn’t the right place. How about we get away from the crowd a little?”

    I nodded, eager to continue what we had started. Hand in hand, we made our way through the crowd, looking for a more intimate place where we could give free rein to our passion. The night had begun with a simple touch, but I knew that this was only the beginning of an erotic adventure that would change my life forever.

    To be continued …

    Author Note:

    Thanks a lot for enjoying my stories! If you’d like to support my work, I share a lot of exclusive erotic content on Patreon. Feel free to check it out — everything is released there first.

  • Beary Stories to Tell in the Dark

    Night of the Bearwolf

    I

    A shrill cry pierced the languid air. Miss Adelaine’s face turned a shade of grey, her usual dainty hand clawed at her mouth. One slender finger extended towards the woods. The gaslights of Beresfield illuminated the treeline. Clear of the woods slumped a stout, hairy man. His eyes were sullen. His thick legs buckled under his weight. Between his legs, dangled a semi-firm penis dripping semen from its foreskin. He was completely naked. To the right of his chest were three bloody gashes. The man set one faltering foot forward and fell flat to the dirt, his eyes closing before he hit the floor. Now illuminated, his dark grey hair and short beard were enough to identify him. It was Father Dominic, the local priest.

    “Are you certain it was him?” I adjusted the pipe in my mouth while my young assistant scribbled his notes.

    “Yes, Mr Basil,” Constable Ellis continued. “Though he was half a mile away, I could tap his profile at any distance.”

    “Is that all you remember?”

    “That’s all. We delivered Fra back to the friars’ infirmary to convalesce.”

    “What of the beast?”

    “Not found nothing. The whole village took to the woods, torches in hand, and found not a branch broken nor soil disturbed.”

    “And when you questioned the priest, he had no recollection of any events leading up to the incident?”

    “Mr Basil,” his eyes were somber and his voice lowered, “it seems the good Fra went to Hanwell and lost his return ticket.”

    I considered the constable to be a truthful man. His recounts of that night seemed, horrible though they may be, etched in his memory. I trusted my associate had recorded the lawman’s events as recounted and set my sights on other leads. Apart from his ungraceful nature, Edmund was a most apt assistant. His clumsiness stemmed from immaturity. 24 years of age and 5’7″ with a stocky build. His blonde hair and beard rounded a soft, kind face. His abdomen was beginning to resemble my own. I had gone from fiddling with my dark moustache to resting my hands on the shelf of my belly as of late. Having a single inch more height to show for the 8-year age gap, and wealth more inches in the waist.

    Since that night, the residents dared not venture out after dark. Whatever cruel fate befell Father Dominic that evening left him incapable of speaking. He remained cloistered in a small cell at the far side of the friary. His silence stoked the rumours of a monster. The township stirred with tales of clandestine encounters and secret meetings. They whispered of affairs so grave they would summon God’s retribution. In spite of these murmurings, we found it difficult finding anyone who would speak with us. Percival, the village florist, was not shy to use his mouth. He was also not particular about the company he kept. Edmund and I were queer company enough it seemed.

    “Mmmm… Father… was with a man… mm… nnmn the woods,” his mouth was full, his lips enveloping my cock in long slow strokes.

    We had observed that Beresfield men were more comfortable speaking in our room. We had booked a single bedroom above the old Baxter Tavern for our stay. Tonight, Edmund sat in the corner recording notes. His pink bare feet poked out the bottom of his white union suit and his cock peeped between two closed buttons.

    “Do you know whom?” I grabbed the florist’s red hair and pushed down. After some resistance, I released my grip.

    “I’ve… no clue,” he breathed.

    His mouth felt warm and wet. I knew his tongue, regardless of its extraordinary talent, could hold one focus. I let go of his head.

    Our florist spoke with a loosened tongue, “The man was corpulent. No, instead he was robust. He had a beard. He was completely bare except for some body hair.” Percival leaned in, “mmmm… his member was circumcised.”

    I had an instant to consider what he divulged before the florist renewed his attention to my member. His slow restrained motions were intoxicating. I couldn’t hold it any longer. I felt my member pulse with each emission down the florist’s throat. We waited in silence as he lapped the last drops before sending him back home to his wife.

    “A man with bearish looks?” Edmund queried afterwards.

    I feared this description should apply to several Beresfield residents. This could be our dear florist or any of the two dozen men who owned family businesses in the village.

    II

    The days elapsed without a fresh incident. Our interrogations halted. The lack of novel information caused our invitations to our single bedroom to die down. Quiet evenings browsing records revealed more and more about the township. Many of its residents descended from the founders, Baxter and Elizabeth Beres. Mr Beres, whose large statue overlooked the courtyard, appeared tall and confident. His long hair draped chiselled abs and broad shoulders. At the statue’s mounting read the words “hic oppidum nostrum aædificabimus/We will build our town here.” Apart from the owner of the teashop and the baker, the villagers were not remarkably tall or fit. The townsmen had inherited a stocky physique and hairy body.

    It was a cold morning, in the middle hour of dawn, when we woke to the sound of people clamouring. Edmund, who had once slumbered, now threw my arm off his person and donned the first pair of trousers in reach. I was quick to follow suit.

    “There’s been another attack,” one of the rushing townsfolk cried.

    We pushed past the throng to an opening in front of the Beres memorial. At its base, the local butcher lay collapsed, his body splayed across the steps. He was unclad, and his bare bottocks lay exposed to the frigid winter air. Squashed beneath his weight, his scrotum pressed against the hard stone steps. In the direction of the statue, the gentleman’s hands lay collapsed at its plinth. On his shoulders were three familiar gashes. His back rose and fell with deep breaths. In a combined effort, the townspeople hoisted him to a bench where his wife sat distraught. After some time, he roused.

    “Are you sure you don’t remember?” I persisted.

    “I don’t recall,” the butcher replied. Having his nethers exposed to the village had left him abased.

    “Gerard, you went out to get the cat,” his wife prompted.

    “Does that ring bells?”

    “I… I don’t… remember. I saw Snow in the garden, and then… I remembered the moon. I’m so… so sorry.”

    “It’s okay, honey. Snow will come back home.”

    “Did you see anyone else out?”

    “No, not a soul. Perhaps Tom… the baker,” Gerard spoke in a low mutter.

    It was clear this answer, alongside the present denouement, had touched a nerve in Ms Briar.

    “You might want to question that Mary Ann yourself! He’s not from around here ya know,” she exclaimed, “he doesn’t have Beresfield blood!”

    This did not square well with my impression of the young baker. He was not a trouble-loving gentleman. It was not surprising that his thickset body and short beard matched the rumour mill. He was, in spite of his large stature and natural suavity, still an outsider.

    III

    The wind shook autumn leaves from their trees. The heavy pear blooms, with their clustering stars, tussled to and fro in the bright moonlight. It was an unexceptional night for Tom, the Beresfield baker. He paced about foraging the fresh herbs and vegetables from the woods. His victims, mallow and sheep sorrel, lay pressed between cotton sheets in a baker’s basket. He wore only a nightshirt and boots. The warm evening wind swept up underneath the thin cloth and the tepid air brushed his exposed glans. It was there, in a clearing, that the baker recognised Dominic. The handsome friar stood dazed and naked.

    Tom stepped forward with arm outstretched. Without saying a word the friar pounced upon him, ripping the nightshirt from his plump pink body. Tom withdrew. He had never felt such raw lust before. Large, passionate fingers clawed at his chest. Tom, now bent over, clung to a tree as the man entered his hole. The combination of preejaculate and loose foreskin felt slick and soft inside him. The priest pounded at his prostate in a wild frenzy. Tom moaned in pleasure. With a loud huff, the holy man flooded Tom’s insides with warm semen. Tom’s legs faltered as, without warning, the priest popped free of his hole. A rope of semen hung from the priest’s sheath as he swung around and stumbled in the direction of the village. Tom shouted his appreciation and strode home hoping to go unnoticed.

    “You’re circumcised?” I probed Tom.

    He laughed, “you are acute. Yes, I am one of the few in town.”

    “What about the other night?”

    “I still pick herbs from the woods. I hadn’t met with the butcher that night, if that’s indeed what you’re asking.”

    “And you didn’t think to tell people your story?”

    “Dom is a good man and he has his needs. I couldn’t tell my story without its coming out.”

    “You said he was in a ‘daze’?”

    “I scarce know how to put my story into words that would be a credible image of what I saw. His eyes were cloudy and his stature felt larger. He had broad hands and his nails looked like the black claws of some beast. His body hair was thicker and coarser. In place of lewd conversation, he growled and huffed,” Tom’s stern eyes met my own. “His cock was bigger than I’d ever seen before.”

    You may imagine the general complexion, from that moment, of our nights. I stirred ‘til I don’t know what hour. Tom had checked into a room at Baxter’s Pub. He remained in our bed to keep my assistant safe. For this, I was grateful. After some deliberation, we agreed we would visit the same clearing in the woods. We would go at night to detect for clues. A few nights later, our baker guided us from his cottage through trees to where he had last met the priest. In the gloom, the clearing appeared bright. The shadows from foliage suffocated the moonlight. The algid mist drifted over exposed roots and broke the otherwise tepid air. In the centre of the clearing was a small tuft of pink wild grass that grew tall and slender.

    “This is where we were.” Tom adjusted his pants, his hardening crotch a sign of an accurate recollection.

    We paced there observing our surroundings. Apart from some large footprints, the rest of the area was unremarkable. The undergrowth russelled. Quiet noises pointed to the innocent stirrings of nocturnal creatures. As I had come to this conclusion, I detected a heavy step from beyond the clearing. My hand instinctively tightened around my flintlock. I squeezed its worn ivory grip. I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Then, I saw it. Something glistened, catching the light from the canopy that danced above. Beyond the clearing were two round eyes. The shrouded figure, indiscernible, stood there in the unsettling dark.

    It was not tall, but possessed a brutal, almost cubic solidity. Stocky was too gentle a word. The man was a mass of shoulders and a thick, unyielding belly that seemed rooted to the very earth. His naked body draped in a muddy cloak. What remained of his long john, hung tattered from his waist in little strings. His cock, exposed to the elements, curved to its side. His foreskin, what little I could discern in the gloom, hung loose. I concluded, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that he had been watching us all along. He began to move, a slow, deliberate shift of his weight that somehow conveyed an unnerving speed. In an instant he was upon us.

    “You need to get out of town!” he screeched at us.

    We immediately recognised him as Wilfred, the pants-less mendicant.

    Our shirtcocking friend led us back to his tent when a warm fire raged. It was there that he recounted the tale of Baxter Beres, the village founder.

    IV

    Mr Beres stepped out of the wagon onto unfamiliar soil. He was a chubby man, even in the fifteen hundreds and his height reached an unremarkable 5’4”. His accent, though hard to discern, was recognisable to the destitute. He was, however, an optimistic man.

    Upon unloading his wife’s belongings onto this new soil he declared “we will build our pub here!”

    “With what material?” his wife, Elizabeth, interjected.

    “With the stones and wood around…”

    “…and the patrons, where would they be?”

    “They’ll flock to us when they see how great our bar is!”

    Several months had passed, but not one single visitor. Elizabeth was no fool. It was her physical labour, not that of her husband’s, that built the bar. She had scars on her hands from laying its foundation, erecting its walls and fastening its roof. Elizabeth was loyal to Baxter Beres through dreams and superstition. Every full moon, she would throw bird bones and whisper to the stars. As she dozed, she foresaw he would have a village full of descendants. It was in the midst of a summer storm that they had their first visitors. The young couple were both butchers on their way through the forest. Having noticed the light, they sought a warm ale. Elizabeth, seeing an opportunity, poured them a special lager. After a few sips, they had resolved to build their butchery next to the pub.

    The next visitors were an engineer and her husband, an architect. The couple talked of pavements and public spaces and Elizabeth poured them a drink. After several pints, the conversation moved to village planning. Before long, the morning light had crept in from the high windows and bounced off their empty glasses. In a drunken stupor, they announced they would stay and plan the village.

    Within the year, Beresfield was teeming with residents. Handsome pebblestone roads lined the foundation of the new church. Small steps traced the flower shop, patisserie and tea shop in the north. Long roads wound towards the dental clinic and doctor’s office in the south. Baxter’s Pub had become the centre of commerce for the village. No night was complete without a pint of Baxter Lager poured by the brewmaster herself. Elizabeth’s husband, though the pub was his idea, disappeared at the thought of hard work. As the years progressed, the villagers bore children to carry their family businesses. Elizabeth, now late in her childbearing years, had become tired of brewing beers. One night, while they both lay in bed, she approached the subject of having children.

    “Why on earth would you want those?” Baxter exclaimed.

    “I dreamt about it,” she replied.

    “…I can’t have children anyway.”

    “How could you know that?”

    “I’ve drunk more ’n hundred beers and swimmers don’ work after that,” he rolled over onto his side. “I read it in some book somewhere.”

    Elizabeth didn’t know if he was being serious or facetious. She rolled her back towards him and dozed off. The next evening, Elizabeth decided to leave the pub in the hands of her barkeep and take the night off. With her husband missing again, she settled into bed early. Muffled cries penetrated the silence and woke Elizabeth from her slumber. They were coming from the kitchen downstairs. She sideled out of bed and inched towards the bedroom door, arm outstretched. The doorknob creaked as she rotated it. Her hand trembled. She stepped down the stairs. A growing dread gripped Elizabeth’s heart. Her heartbeat felt so loud she could hardly make out the noise below. There in the dark of the kitchen stood her husband. His silhouette rocked back and forth against the kitchen bench. On the bench lay a person, completely unclad, lit by the moonlight coming in from the window. It was the florist’s wife. Her bare legs wrapped tight around Baxter’s hips. Her breasts bounced with each thrust.

    “Spill inside me again!” she moaned.

    “Fuck,” he made one final thrust and obliged her demand.

    Elizabeth, whose fear dissipated, took two breaths before slinking back up the stairs. Over the next month, she continued to hear her husband with other villagers. The following Monday, he entertained the doctor’s wife. That Thursday, it was the florist. On one occasion, she heard him, the engineer and the architect together. 

    In the midst of winter, only one type of wild grass grew. As the morning mist rolled in from the hills, Elizabeth ventured out of the village towards the woods. There, in a nearby clearing she harvested dark grain from a long pink grass and set to work brewing a new lager. Within a day, she placed a pony of rose-gold lager in front of her husband and said, “taste it!”

    As her husband drank, she cursed his bloodline.

    “May any Beres man who breaks his vow become ravenous and unsatisfied at the full moon.

    May he tap around in the dark looking for company.

    May he grow claws capable of swiping right through the largest of men.

    May he woof like a dog.

    May his penis swell large, his testes engorge, his hair thicken, and his eyes redden.

    All this should fall upon him lest he find a consenting, infertile hole or the sun’s rays relieve him of his spell.”

    Upon Mr Beres’ last sips, he fell into a deep sleep and passed away. Seeing her husband’s resemblance throughout the village caused Elizabeth’s heart to break. She wandered into the forest and was never seen again. Over time, the residents of Beresfield had forgotten what had happened.

    …

    The story had held us, round the fire, breathless. The obvious remark was that it was gruesome, as, many a monster tale should be. In spite of this, it managed to rouse my colleague’s loins as it did my own. I eyed Edmund’s trousers and uttered no comment.

    It was this observation that drew me, later in the evening, to an abrupt conclusion.

    “We can stop the bearwolves,” I exclaimed.

    V

    The mist clung to the cobbled streets of Beresfield like a shroud and strangled the warm light of the gas lamps. The full moon that night appeared ghostly in the sky and the village felt robbed of its usual colour. The townsfolk had prepared. Three weeks earlier, they shook the grains from pink grass in the forest clearing and brewed them. Now within the cellar lay three barrels of Baxter’s Lager. Locked away above the tavern, waited Friar Dominic and Gerard, the butcher. The townswomen barricaded themselves in their homes. The men collected lamps and weapons.

    “We’re ready,” Tom looked optimistic. “I’ll take this lot down to the medical quarter.”

    His colossal physique disappeared into the dense mist. The fog’s damp tendrils snaked around short unkempt tufts of blonde hair. Behind him followed a dozen men with lamps.

    Edmund nodded his head in my direction and led a dozen men towards the tea shop, furthest north of the village. Constable Ellis, Percival and I had agreed to remain behind and patrol the pub.

    I paced around the building feeling restless. The sound of owls bleating and hooting gave the night an eerie calm. Even the nocturnal animals felt comfortable vocalising. I rounded the front corner of the pub and there in the edge of my peripheral stood a menacing figure. It slumped forward obscuring its features. Its eyes were deep red. What appeared at first to be a dark skull atop its head was now a custodian helmet and silver badge. Of the positive identity of the monster I would assure myself as soon as my courage found me again. I transferred my eyes straight to Percival, who, at that moment, was about ten yards away. My heart had stood still for an instant with the terror of the question whether he too would see this monster. I held my breath while I waited for a cry from him, or some sudden innocent sign of alarm. I waited, but nothing came.

    “Percival?” I strained to get the word out.

    He huffed out a soft woof and looked at me with ferocious fervour. My legs felt leaden and unresponsive. Edmund and Tom emerged from the fog, sprinting from an unseen assailant.

    “Mr Basil,” Edmund called out. “…the whole village!”

    The appearance of two dozen monstrous villagers brought chills down my neck. I spun on my heel, the fallen leaves crunching under my boots, and bounded towards the Baxter. With a large thud, the three of us slammed our bodies against the large wooden doors. We had landed on all fours on the floor of the pub. A primal instinct, a desperate urge for self-preservation, seized me. I forced the doors closed and turned the lock. 

    “It won’t hold them,” I slid my trousers off and began unbuttoning my waistcoat. “You should both escape while you can.”

    “We won’t leave you,” Edmund was wide-eyed and teary. 

    Edmund’s glance darted from me to Tom. The baker was already half dressed. He pulled the second sock from his large feet and folded it on the bar counter. Edmund unfastened his belt and loosened his derbies. Tom hoisted himself over the bar counter. His large endowment and heavy testes swung as he shifted his weight from one colossal thigh to the next. Once on the other side, he bent out of view and emerged with a canister of coconut butter. He scooped some up with his right hand, with a swift swing of his left hand tossed it to Edmund who caught it and stared.

    “Let me help you with that,” I dipped two fingers into the creamy substance. Bending Edmund over, I massaged them into his hole. With another scoop of coconut butter, I probed my own hole making sure it was slick. The doors of the pub swung open. In the doorway stood several large figures. Amongst them were Hubert the mailman, Charlie who ran the tea shop, and Doctor Mitchell. At the very front stood Percival, whom if not for his bright orange hair, I would not recognise. His manhood had swelled to twice its usual size. Cowper’s fluid oozed from his characteristic Beres foreskin. There was a yell from behind me. Our two captives had escaped their prisons and dragged Tom towards the barrel room. A large man with black beard and hair lifted Edmund off his feet and slammed him face-down into a table. He moaned as the man entered him. On another table, I positioned myself on my back and held my legs up. Percival, now in a lustful craze, stepped towards me. He grabbed his 10 inch cock in his large, terrifying hands and lined it up with my slicked hole. The florist looked down at me as, in one steady movement, he inched his entire shaft inside me. 

    As his hips began to trust back and forth, I could feel his red pubes press against my thighs. His demeanor, though menacing, made me feel safe. I grabbed hold of his tattered apron and held his torso close to soften the pounding. His rhythm quickened and his breaths became shorter. He was demolishing my prostate. He let out a huff as he coated my insides with his warm secretion. After one last shudder, he exited my hole, took two steps and fell to the ground into a deep sleep.

    Before I could stand, the mailman held me by the waist and flipped me onto all fours. His large mushroom head popped inside my puckered hole. I gasped. My sphincter muscles had time to regain their strength. They squeezed tight against his shaft as it sank inside me. Before my eyes, my gentle assistant assumed the same position. He winced as Constable Ellis pounded his body. The look on his face traversed in and out of ecstasy. Catching a moment of lucidity, I mouthed “I’m sorry.” 

    His moans of pleasure alleviated my concerns. The constable pushed Edmund’s face down and his heavy thrusting quaked the table. I stared mesmerized by his tiny entrance taking this large man.

    “Fuck, he’s got a thick one,” my apprentice exclaimed. 

    He said it so sexily that my cock pulsed on the edge of orgasm as I took another warm load into my body. Before the mailman could doze off, Charlie, the owner of the local tea shop, hoisted me off the table. He was by far the largest of the villagers. He was 6’5” and muscular even before the full moon. His broad hands gripped the underside of my thighs. He lifted me until the back of my head touched his thick auburn beard.

    In steady movements he stroked me up and down his mammoth appendage. I felt I could pass out from my insides stretching. His cock kneaded my prostate each time it entered my body. I couldn’t take it any more. Without a single stroke, my cock exploded. Strings of semen flicked forward as Charlie continued to bounce me on his cock. Edmund squinted to shield his eyes. I sprayed my assistant and the surrounding furniture with droplets of cum. 

    My insides felt a deluge of warm fluids. The giant pulled out of my gaping hole letting its contents spill all over the pub floor. He lowered me down onto the table.

    As the fourth man thrust inside me, I lost track of myself and time. 

    VI

    The light had crept in through the high windows of the tavern. Several docile bodies lay on the wooden floors. Edmund lay spread stomach-down over a table. His arms hung forward off the edge. On his face he wore a smile of deep satisfaction. He titled his head at me, face coated in semen, and spoke.

    “I still haven’t cum yet. Could you… fuck me?” His voice cracked with exhaustion, “but… please be gentle.”

    It was the first time he had asked me. Edmund positioned himself on his back. Holding the soles of his soft feet together close to my chest, I sank my member into his delicate, pink hole. He didn’t need lube. His hole was already full of semen. My average cock paled in comparison to those of the bearwolves he’d been taking all night. Even so, there was sexiness in his looseness. His hole felt warm and slippery, caressing my cock as it slid in and out. Edmund was silent. 

    “Everything okay, buddy?” I checked in.

    “Everything’s perfect,” he stroked his cock as I thrust deep and slow. 

    In a brief blissful moment we both climaxed. His thin cum shot over his chest and belly. Out of one of the rooms stumbled Tom with Constable Ellis on his shoulder. The constable had woken from his slumber and returned to his usual appearance. Tom had managed to find a pair of ill-fitting long johns. Its waistcord clung desperately to the top curve of his girthy cock. Ellis had not gotten the opportunity to dress. His flaccid uncut cock dangled below a tuft of brown pubes. The floor felt sticky with sweat and semen. The constable, walking with drunken stupor, moved towards the bar. He was careful not to disturb the naked rabble. He picked up a glass and sought to fill it with special lager.

    “No,” Edmund’s eyes were sanguine, “it will kill them.” 

    “There might be another way,” Tom suggested.

    Epilogue

    My own scruples would not allow us to leave them there without an answer to the village’s denouement. As such, with the help of our young baker friend, we devised a solution. It would allow the community to live out their placid days unperturbed. After some goodbyes, Edmund and I took the first carriage out of Beresfield. We travelled towards the city to report our findings to the Inspector General.  

    “So you’re telling me that the town locks portly male residents up with the baker in a tavern every full moon?” Inspector General Garth looked confused.

    “That is correct, sir,” I replied. 

    “…and this baker allows them to screw him until they are all cured for the night?”

    “Correct, sir.”

    “…and the residents all know about this and treat the baker like family?”

    “That is also correct, sir. Tom is his name, sir.”

    “Sounds like a success!”

    The Inspector General seemed satisfied with our efforts. It was many months later when we received our first letter from Beresfield. Tom wrote 3 pages. In the letter, he expressed his fondness for our company. He detailed his new bread recipe made from colourful wild grains. He reported the town had a new fondness for ales. On the last page, he wrote of how the male Beresfeld residents wake in the tavern the dawn after a full moon. They would congregate out in the courtyard with beer in hand. By midday, the whole village would join in the festivities. They’ll sing in bacchanalian fervour and dance where the statue of Baxter Beres once stood.

  • Best Friends Father Trains Me

    • Mr. B aka Best Friends Father: A Jordanian beast, standing at 6 feet tall, thick muscular biceps and pecs barely covered by his tanktop with a thick 9.5 caramel cock.
    • Me: 5’6, creamy white skin, a little chubbier on ass and thighs (rugby build type) with a plump 7 inch cock.
    • Dad: 5’10, hairy chest, fit tight pecs and build with a 9 inch thick mushroom headed dick, big goose egg balls
    • Ali: 5’9, swimmers build with a bit more muscles, 7 inch caramel cock with a perky ass

    Ali made sure to stop by my house after getting home. We went to the park to discuss things more privately away from my family.

    “You got me to come home a month early saying it would be good, so what’s up”

    I told him the whole story just leaving out it was his Father and my Father and instead said they were two dads he knew. He took so many guesses at our friends fathers and never getting it right.

    I toyed with him, “what if it was your dad Ali, your dad that fucked me and turned me out and got me to fuck my own dad?”

    “YEAH RIGHT” as he burst into a fit of laughter.

    ‘What would you say, huh, would you watch your dad and me, would you want to join, be spit roasted.’

    “Dude that’s gross as fuck”

    “How come you hard Ali” as I grabbed his crotch and started kissing him. “Follow me.” I didn’t give him a chance to argue I just walked behind the pavillon into the wooded area. Once we were clear all I said was “Get on your knees boy.” He just had this face staring then finally kneeled.

    Ali was okay but he needed practice so I guided him like his Father guided me. Tight lips, no teeth, suck and work his tongue, all of the tricks and Ali was a quick study. Soon he was sucking me deep, “Thats a good slut, you are looking to be a good little slut aren’t you Ali, bet you never thought your best friend would be using you like this huh,” as he tried to answer I just shoved him down to my balls making him take all of me. I busted right down his throat, “that’s it swallow it, I SAID SWALLOW IT,” after he gulped my load down I kissed him deep and told him we had to go to his place. I rushed because I needed his attention for my plans.

    “Tonight I’m coming over, don’t worry we’ll make sure my place or yours.”

    We headed back to his house, when I could I got his dad alone and said “Tell him you are staying out, but come back around 9” and just gave him an evil grin. All he could say was “yes sir.” His Father was such a natural bottom sub it wasn’t hard switching our roles.

    When his dad left, after announcing he was going to be gone all night and be back tomorrow Ali and me relaxed a bit more. He unpacked and I started telling him about tonight and how he was going to learn to be a good little sub bitch. When he started to change I grabbed him and undressed myself and went into the shower turning it on. That’s when I had him bend over and shaved his hole. If we were going to use him I was going to prepare him. Once he was smooth I couldn’t help but break his seal a little. I ate his fresh hole and fingered him right there, telling him how I was going to make him suck his own Father and ride his daddy, he had gotten use to our “roleplay,” he went with it without any hesitation. All of this may seemed rush but I wanted him to be amped and not fully get off so he would be pumped up for the night.

    We hung out and around 8:30 I told him I brought some gear and came back into the living room with a hood, harness, and assless chaps, what his Father had me in the first time. I told Ali, you are going to wear that and keep it on until I say. I invited a guy. I took him to the basement where it first happened for me and told him to wait in the one room I would grab him when ready. The only difference I added a cock ring to pump him up and get him too excited. 

    When his dad came in he got what I was doing and sat where my Father sat. I came back into the room and put a collar on him and a leash. I told him to fully obey and if he didn’t want to proceed he could remove the mask at anytime.

    I walked him out and then he stopped, he caught on quick. “Hey Mr. B, Ali went to a party he’ll be back in a few hours, I didn’t realize you were going to be home”

    Laughing Mr. B responded, “I see that,” and he stood up walking to Ali on all fours. “Can I join you with your bitch?”

    “Sure if he wants it, Do you want it, if not you can unmask and leave now”

    “Yeah, unmask and leave so we can have some fun and not waste our time” Mr. B said, that is when he whipped out his fat 9 inch caramel Dick, “You sucking it boy or what” I noticed that hesitation but Ali couldn’t resist. He got close and finally he took the Dick in his mouth. We both sighed some relief, that is when I got behind Ali and began to eat his hole, I wanted him all primed up.

    “This is another friend of ours, his names Ali too hahahaa.”

    “Well that is dirty, same name as my son”

    “Why don’t you call him son and treat him like he was” we both laughed

    That’s when Ali turned a bit towards me, “Would you like that slut, keep sucking if you want this man to call you Ali and refer to you as his own son” and with that Ali just started sucking with a fury.

    “I think this whore loves it” as Mr. B began to pump it, “That’s it, take daddy’s Dick Ali, suck on my fat cock”

    I resumed eating his hole and opening him up, that is when I said, “I’m going to fuck this whore” and began to shove in my best friend, and all he could do was grunt into his own father’s cock.

    I started pounding him and couldn’t hold back, smacking his perky little ass.

    “Fuck yea Ali, bounce back on your buddy, Daddy wants to see the faggot you are slut”

    “Yea Ali, suck your Fucking Father and take your best buddy’s cock like the needy little whore you are.”

    We both began pumping, as soon as I smacked his ass again I nutted straight into my best friend’s hole, and as I grunted and fell on his back sweat covering me, his Father screamed, “I’m CUMMING,” that’s when I gave him the nod, he yanked off the hood and busted on his sons lips, “NOW CLEAN DADDY FAG”

    to be continued..

  • The Acquisition: A Record of Compliance, Pleasure & Ownership

    The Cage

    All of the fan mail on the first few chapters has been great! Please don’t hesitate to write with your feedback!

    © Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

    Tuesday morning arrived with a hollow ache behind my ribs.

    I barely slept the night before. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—Sean’s body, the heat of his mouth, the searing burn of his commands. I woke tangled in the sheets, hard and leaking, my cock throbbing uselessly against empty air. I’d denied myself release, half-afraid it would somehow cheapen what had happened between us, half-afraid of what it would mean if it didn’t.

    I dressed for work in a daze, my mind thick with restless need. In the mirror, I barely recognized myself. There was a rawness to my reflection, a faint flush to my skin that no amount of cold water could hide. I was unraveling—and Sean hadn’t even touched me again.

    At the office, he was nowhere to be found.

    I checked my emails obsessively, watched the hallways, lingered by the kitchen longer than necessary. Nothing. Sean was a ghost—present only in the glances of others, the hollow thrum of passing footsteps, the phantom scent of cologne that wasn’t his.

    By Tuesday afternoon, my nerves were strung tight enough to hum. Every interaction felt like a placeholder, every task mechanical. I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe properly. My body remembered him too well—remembered the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d told me to crawl, the effortless weight of his control.

    I told myself it was foolish to hope he would seek me out so soon.

    But when the knock came at my door—soft, deliberate, unmistakable—my heart stopped.

    I looked up—and there he was.

    Sean leaned casually against the frame, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a small black box.

    For a moment, I simply stared at him, everything in me stuttering to a halt.
    He looked immaculate, as always—charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, tie loose at the throat like he’d already started shedding the constraints of the day. But it was the glint in his eye that made my mouth go dry. That quiet, knowing amusement, like he could see straight through me and liked what he found.

    “You’re not running off yet, are you?” he asked, voice smooth, his metallic blue eyes glinting with something private.

    “No,” I managed, straightening a little. “Just finishing up.”

    He stepped inside without invitation and closed the door behind him.

    The click of the latch sounded loud in the quiet room.

    Sean held up the box between two fingers. It wasn’t large—sleek, discreet, the kind of thing you might mistake for cufflinks or expensive pens.

    “This,” he said, walking toward me with measured steps, “is yours now.”

    I stared at the box, then at him.

    “What is it?” I asked, even though a sick, electric part of me already suspected.
    But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I opened the box.

    Inside, nestled against black velvet, gleamed a small, stainless steel chastity cage—sleek, polished, unyielding. The sight of it stole my breath.

    “I had it fitted to the measurements I took last night,” Sean said lightly, as though we were discussing a tailor’s work. “I thought you should have something… more official.”

    My face flushed hot.

    I’d thought he was just toying with me when he made me stand there—naked, humiliated—while he measured me with his cool, steady hands. Measuring everything, not just my cock, but the thickness, the base, the curve. I thought it had been another way to mock the difference between us: Sean’s cock had been huge and heavy even half-hard, at least eight and a half inches thick, while mine, at full desperate arousal, barely stood at four and a half.

    He’d teased me then, too. Commenting idly on the “cute little size” I had, laughing softly when I twitched in his hand, helplessly eager for touch even under the weight of his casual cruelty

    I hadn’t realized he’d been collecting data for this.

    I couldn’t speak. My heart thudded painfully against my ribs.

    “You’ll put it on tonight,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “When you get home. I expect a photo. Full body. Nude. Cage clearly visible.”

    I swallowed hard, nodding automatically.

    “And before you ask,” he added, reaching into his pocket again, “this—” he produced a small, clear acrylic tube sealed tightly at the top, inside of which was a single brass key “—is your emergency release.”

    He handed it to me.

    I turned the container over in my hand. It was seamless—no latch, no twist-cap. Only a solid cylinder, designed to be broken if opened.

    “If you open it,” Sean said, his voice dropping lower, “I’ll know. There’s no way to get that key without destroying the seal.”

    He stepped closer, and I felt the heat of him like a tangible thing.

    “I hold the real keys,” he said. “All of them.”

    I nodded again, throat too tight to form words.

    Sean smiled, slow and dangerous. “Good boy.”

    Those words. They hit harder than any touch. My knees almost buckled.

    “We won’t see each other again until Friday,” Sean went on, his voice rich with promise. “Until then, I expect obedience. I expect updates. And I expect you to behave.”

    He paused, letting the silence fill the space between us like heavy smoke.

    “Be a good boy for me, Blake.”

    Then he turned and walked to the door, pausing only to glance back once.

    “Don’t disappoint me.”

    The door clicked softly shut behind him.

    I sank into my chair, the box still trembling in my hands, the emergency key glinting ominously on my desk.

    I hadn’t even put the cage on yet, and already, I could feel it — the invisible weight of it, the cold metal of Sean’s expectations clamping shut around me, tighter than any lock.

    A part of me was terrified.

    The rest of me had never been harder in my life.

    The box sat heavy in my bag the whole way home.

    Every bump of the subway seemed to shift it slightly against the fabric, a constant reminder of what waited for me. I couldn’t stop touching the strap of the bag, as if somehow making sure it was still there, still real.

    The train car was crowded, but it may as well have been empty. My mind played only one thought on repeat: Tonight, I would lock myself away. For him.

    I replayed Sean’s voice over and over in my head:

    “Put it on tonight. Full body photo. Nude. Cage clearly visible.”

    I swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably on the plastic seat. My cock, traitorous as ever, gave a small, involuntary twitch at the memory of his command. I forced my legs tighter together, willing myself to stay still.

    By the time I reached my apartment, I was trembling.

    I locked the door behind me, dropped my bag by the couch, and just stood there for a long moment, staring at nothing.

    The city buzzed outside my window—cars honking, people laughing, life carrying on as though I hadn’t just agreed to give up control over the most intimate part of myself.

    I moved slowly, almost ritualistically, peeling off my work clothes one piece at a time. Jacket first, draped neatly over the chair. Tie next, unwound with shaking fingers. Shirt. Undershirt. Belt. Trousers. Socks.

    Each layer felt like a confession.

    When I was finally naked, I stood in front of the mirror, heart pounding.

    My cock was half-hard already, straining up shyly from a thatch of neatly trimmed hair. Even now, after everything, it looked embarrassingly small to me. Thin. Soft-featured. I thought of Sean’s dismissive smirk as he measured me, the heavy weight of his own cock swinging just inches from my face.

    “Cute little size.”

    Humiliation crawled hot across my skin.

    I opened the box carefully, almost reverently. Inside, the stainless steel cage gleamed under the soft light of my apartment. It was smaller than I expected—sleek, tight, unyielding. No room to grow. No room to hide.

    There were instructions tucked inside, but I didn’t need them. I’d watched enough videos in secret late at night, aching to understand this feeling, to prepare myself for this moment without ever admitting that preparation out loud.

    I sat on the edge of the bed, fumbling slightly as I slid the base ring behind my balls, lifting and arranging them carefully. Even that small pressure made my cock twitch, desperate for attention.

    The cage itself was cool in my hand, its weight substantial for its size. I lined it up, pushed the head of my cock through the opening, and began to guide it down.

    It was harder than I expected. My body fought me, confused by the strange mixture of arousal and fear. Every time I tried to fit myself inside, I swelled a little more, defiant.

    I gritted my teeth, willing my arousal to subside.

    Think of something else. Anything else.
    The subway. The meeting schedule. The taste of burnt coffee from the kitchen downstairs.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed to push myself fully into the cage. The steel pressed against me from all sides, unforgiving and absolute. I reached for the small integrated lock Sean had provided and slid it into place.

    The click was almost inaudible.

    But it thundered through me like a closing vault door.

    I sat there for a moment, breathing hard, the weight of the cage already beginning to register against my skin—heavy, foreign, unescapable.

    I was locked.
    Owned.

    A soft tremor went through me.

    There was still one last command to fulfill.

    Shame coiled tight in my gut as I set up my phone, propping it against a stack of books on my dresser. I stepped back, positioning myself fully in the frame. I felt ridiculous—standing there, bare, small, encased in gleaming steel, my body betraying every inch of my vulnerability to the camera lens.

    I swallowed down the lump in my throat, squared my shoulders as best I could, and took the photo.

    The image appeared on the screen a second later—stark, merciless.
    There was no hiding.

    My chest was lean but soft around the edges, my hips narrow, my thighs defined but slim. And there, at the center of it all, was the cage—glinting under the lamp light, locked tight around my pathetic, subdued cock.

    I stared at it for a long moment.

    Then I sent it to Sean.

    The message delivered instantly.

    No response.

    The silence was worse than anything he could have said.

    I crawled into bed without bothering to dress, the cage a constant, intrusive pressure against the sheets. Every tiny shift reminded me of its presence. Every flicker of arousal—which came like an unwanted tide whenever I thought about Sean—brought only frustration and tightness.

    I lay there for hours, hard but helpless, staring at the ceiling while the cage held me firm in its merciless grip.

    Sleep came fitfully, in ragged pieces. Every time I drifted, I would startle awake with a painful throb between my legs, my body trying desperately to swell past the limits Sean had set.

    There was no escape. No relief. Only the endless, aching reminder:

    I was his now. Even when he wasn’t there.

    I woke to the feeling of pressure.

    Not the usual morning wood, warm and restless against the sheets. This was sharper, confined, denied—my cock swollen uselessly against cold steel, throbbing for a release that wasn’t coming.

    The cage held firm, unforgiving.

    I rolled onto my back with a quiet groan, the metal biting slightly into tender skin. My balls felt tight, swollen, aching in a dull, constant pulse. I could already tell that movement would make everything worse. The thought of squeezing into a suit, sitting stiff-backed through meetings, pretending to be normal—it made my stomach clench with dread.

    But there was no choice.

    I showered carefully, my body hyper-aware of every slick brush of my own hands. Washing my cock and balls was an exercise in humiliation: soap sliding over the trapped, helpless length, no ability to touch, no ability to soothe. Every nerve ending was raw, exposed, hungry.

    Getting dressed was worse.

    The cage shifted under my boxer briefs, a hard, obvious presence. I could feel it with every step, every bend, every accidental brush of my thigh against the fabric. By the time I’d knotted my tie and buttoned my jacket, I was already sweating.

    Sean had done this to me.
    Even when he wasn’t there, he owned every breath I took.

    The office buzzed with its usual early-morning energy. Phones ringing, printers spitting out contracts, conversations murmuring from open doors. I moved through it like a ghost, half-present, my mind trapped somewhere deep inside my own skin.

    Nobody could see the cage, of course.

    But that didn’t stop me from imagining it. From imagining that everyone knew—that somehow, the bulge at my crotch was too obvious, that every glance was weighted, curious.

    Especially Sean’s.

    I felt him before I saw him: a shift in the air, a ripple across the surface of the day.

    He passed by my desk mid-morning, coffee cup in hand, suit jacket slung casually over one shoulder. His eyes flicked to mine, cool and assessing, and for a terrifying second, I thought he might say something—might acknowledge the secret locked between my legs.

    But he just smiled.

    That same small, private curve of the lips.
    That same unspoken I know.

    And then he was gone, leaving me burning in my seat.

    I spent most of the day on autopilot. Responding to emails without really reading them. Attending meetings and nodding at the right moments, my mind elsewhere.

    Every now and then, the cage would pinch unexpectedly. When I shifted wrong. When the pressure of sitting too long built up and demanded to be noticed. Each jolt sent a flash of heat through my body, a reminder of my captivity. A reminder of him.

    It was just after lunch when the first text came.

    Sean:
    Thinking about you.

    Three words.

    That was all it took to send a bolt of need straight to my groin, my cock straining futilely against the steel cage.

    I shifted in my seat, heart pounding, glancing around the office like someone had seen the message. Like someone could see the effect it had on me.

    Another text followed, almost immediately.

    Sean:
    Bet you’re squirming in your chair right now.

    I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, trying to will away the helpless throb between my legs. Trying to focus on the spreadsheet in front of me instead of the humiliating truth Sean had spelled out so effortlessly.

    I didn’t dare respond.

    But I didn’t have to.

    Around three o’clock, Sean passed by my desk again.
    This time, he brushed against me.

    Casual. Effortless. As if it were an accident.

    His hip bumped mine lightly as he leaned to place a file on the corner of my desk. His voice was low, professional. “For Sandra. When you have a minute.”

    But his fingers lingered half a second longer than necessary against the surface.
    And when he straightened up, he let his hand drift just an inch too close to my thigh before pulling away.

    I sat there frozen, blood roaring in my ears.

    By the time I dared glance after him, he was already striding down the hall, talking easily with another associate.

    Like nothing had happened at all.

    I barely made it through the rest of the day.
    By five, my whole body buzzed with frustration, every shift in my chair grinding the cage against sensitive flesh. My balls were heavy, aching. My cock throbbed against its prison, desperate for a kind of touch I wasn’t allowed to have.

    I checked my phone obsessively all evening.
    Half-hoping for another message.
    Half-dreading it.

    Nothing came.

    The silence gnawed at me worse than the teasing.
    Worse than the cage itself.

    Sean was dangling me, letting me twist.
    And I couldn’t even pretend I didn’t love it.

    Thursday morning hit like a slow, heavy punch.

    I woke stiff and aching, the cage an iron brand against my skin. Every attempt to stretch only made it worse—metal tugging painfully against swollen flesh, balls throbbing dully with pent-up need. Sleep had been a losing battle, stolen in snatches between dreams that left me even harder, even more desperate, even more humiliated.

    I rolled onto my stomach, face pressed against the pillow, willing myself not to grind helplessly against the mattress.

    I was already leaking—clear fluid beading at the slit of my trapped cock, smearing slickly against the unforgiving steel.

    Sean did this to me.
    And today, like yesterday, he would act like nothing had changed.
    Like he hadn’t locked a part of me away for his private amusement.

    I moved through my morning routine like a sleepwalker. Shower. Shave. Dress. Each motion punctuated by tiny flinches every time the cage shifted or pinched.

    By the time I stepped into the elevator at the office, I was already half-hard and aching.

    I made it to my desk, dropped my bag, and sat gingerly—legs slightly parted, jacket tugged strategically to hide any suspicious adjustments.

    I hadn’t even opened my inbox before my phone buzzed.

    Sean:
    Hard yet?

    My throat tightened.

    Another buzz.

    Sean:
    Bet you are. Good boys stay hard for me, even when they can’t do anything about it.

    I shifted in my seat, biting down a whimper.
    The metal pressed cruelly into the tender underside of my cock, every pulse of arousal magnifying the ache tenfold.

    A minute later, another message popped up.

    No words this time.
    Just a photo.

    I stared, pulse hammering in my ears.

    It was a close-up shot of Sean’s cock—thick, flushed, slick at the head, glistening against the backdrop of his toned abs. His hand wrapped lazily around the base, thumb stroking just under the ridge of the head in a way that made my mouth go dry.

    The caption came separately.

    Sean:
    Just finished thinking about you. Felt amazing.

    I made a tiny, desperate noise under my breath, slamming the phone face-down onto my desk before anyone could see.

    But it was too late.

    The image burned behind my eyelids, impossible to unsee.
    Sean, slick and smug and satisfied.
    Me, locked up, untouched, denied.

    My cock tried uselessly to swell, grinding painfully against the steel.

    It was unbearable.

    It was perfect.

    The hours crawled by, each one heavier than the last.

    At 11:37 a.m., another message.

    Sean:
    Come to my office. Knock twice.

    I read it three times before moving, heart pounding loud enough to drown out everything else.

    The walk down the hallway felt endless. Every step rubbed the cage against my skin, every shift of fabric another taunt.

    Sean’s door was closed.

    I knocked twice, just as instructed.

    “Come,” came the cool reply.

    I pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind me.

    Sean sat at his desk, casual, composed—like this was any other meeting.

    He didn’t tell me to sit.
    He didn’t tell me anything.

    He just tipped his chin slightly, eyes dropping pointedly to my crotch.

    Understanding hit me like a slap.

    I moved closer, fingers trembling slightly as I fumbled with my belt, then the zipper.

    Sean didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

    Just watched.

    I pulled open my trousers enough to expose the cage.

    The steel gleamed under the office lights, cruelly snug against my aching flesh. I stood there, trousers half-open, heart hammering in my throat, humiliation burning my skin.

    Sean smiled faintly.

    “Still locked,” he murmured. “Good boy.”

    I waited, desperate for something—praise, touch, permission.

    But Sean simply picked up a pen, scribbled something in the margin of a document, and said, without looking up:

    “That’s all.”

    Dismissed.

    I tucked myself away with shaking hands, zipped up, and fled.

    Back at my desk, I sat staring blankly at my screen, the humiliation curdling strangely in my gut.

    I wanted more.

    Not just the inspection. Not just the proof.
    I wanted to be used.
    I wanted him to tell me to drop to my knees right there.
    To make me serve him properly.
    To humiliate me completely.

    Instead, he left me with the cage—and the endless, gnawing hunger that came with it.

    By the end of the day, I was buzzing so hard with frustration I could barely think straight.

    I checked my phone obsessively, aching for another text, another crumb of attention.

    At 6:03 p.m., just as I was packing up, one last message came through.

    Sean:
    Tomorrow. 8pm. Address to follow. Come hungry.

    Attached was a photo.

    A close-up shot of Sean’s ass—smooth, tan, perfectly shaped. The lighting made everything look deliberate, sculpted. At the very center: the tight, freshly shaved pucker of his hole, glistening slightly under the flash.

    My knees almost gave out.

    Come hungry.

    There was no mistaking what he meant.

    The photo. The message. The invitation.

    Sean was telling me, without saying it directly, that the next time I knelt for him, it wouldn’t just be to prove my obedience.
    It would be to serve him with my mouth—to rim him, to press my tongue against the most intimate part of him until he was satisfied.

    Shame and heat crashed through me all at once.

    I stuffed my phone into my pocket, grabbed my bag, and fled the office before I could humiliate myself any further.

    I woke to the familiar, brutal throb of caged arousal, my body stiff and sore from another restless, broken night.
    It felt like my cock had been in a constant, low-grade state of erection for days—never able to fully rise, never able to fully go soft. Trapped at the edge of relief, teasing the line between pleasure and pain.

    When I sat up, the cage shifted heavily against my sensitive flesh, dragging a low whimper from the back of my throat.

    Everything inside me buzzed, feverish and hollow.

    Work was a blur.
    I stumbled through the morning in a daze, barely able to string coherent thoughts together during meetings. I nodded where appropriate, scribbled aimless notes, answered emails with mechanical precision—all while every inch of my skin prickled with anticipation.

    The cage was unbearable now—constant, unavoidable, a cruel reminder of the night ahead.
    Every minor movement rubbed steel against my cock, every thought of Sean twisted the ache deeper.

    I couldn’t focus.
    Couldn’t breathe properly.

    Every clock I passed seemed to mock me.
    Eight o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

    Shortly after lunch, my phone buzzed.

    Sean:
    Tonight. 8pm sharp.
    Address: 32A Dominion Crescent. Buzz 604.
    You have one job: Obey.

    I stared at the message until the words blurred, my pulse roaring in my ears.

    Eight o’clock sharp.
    Not a minute early. Not a minute late.

    I texted back a simple Yes, Sir, my hands shaking slightly, my body already reacting with a useless, caged hardness.

    The rest of the afternoon passed in a dreamlike haze.
    I could barely look at Sean without flushing.
    Could barely hear my own voice when partners asked me questions.

    Everything narrowed down to a single, pounding truth:

    Tonight.

    Tonight, I would kneel for him again.

    I rushed home from work like a man possessed.

    There was a strange reverence to everything I did—an almost ceremonial quality.

    I showered carefully, scrubbing every inch of myself until my skin was raw and tingling.
    I shaved: face, chest, everything below the waist—leaving myself smooth, open, vulnerable.

    Standing naked in the bathroom afterward, I stared at my reflection.

    The cage gleamed dully against my flushed skin.
    I touched it lightly, almost reverently, feeling the way it had already reshaped me.
    Made me smaller. Hungrier.
    His.

    I dressed simply: fitted jeans, a plain black t-shirt, clean sneakers. Nothing flashy. Nothing that would draw attention.

    The way Sean wanted me to look: ordinary on the outside, branded on the inside.

    I triple-checked the address.
    Checked the time.
    And then headed out into the evening.

    The Uber ride was a blur.

    I watched the city stream past the window—streets glowing under the warm haze of sunset, people laughing at restaurant patios, couples strolling hand-in-hand. All of it felt distant. Unreachable.

    I clutched the emergency key in its sealed acrylic tube in my pocket, feeling its weight like a talisman.
    Proof that I couldn’t escape.
    Proof that I didn’t want to.

    At 7:50 p.m., I was standing outside Sean’s condo building, heart pounding painfully against my ribs.

    It was a sleek, modern tower—clean lines, dark glass, brushed metal accents.
    A doorman stood discreetly inside the lobby, nodding politely at passersby. A black SUV pulled away from the curb, its headlights cutting across the pavement.

    I shifted nervously, checking the time again.

    7:51.

    I wasn’t supposed to buzz until 8:00.

    Sean had said it clearly.
    8pm sharp.
    Not before. Not after.

    The minutes crawled by, each one heavier than the last.
    I paced a little, trying not to look suspicious, trying not to grind helplessly against the cage every time I shifted my weight.

    At 7:59, I moved to the buzzer panel, heart hammering so loudly I thought the doorman might hear it from inside.

    I hovered my finger over the button for unit 604, watching the digital clock on my phone tick down the final seconds.

    7:59:57.
    7:59:58.
    7:59:59.
    8:00.

    I pressed the buzzer.

    The speaker crackled once.

    Then Sean’s voice came through, low and amused:

    “Come up.”

    The door clicked open.

    I pushed inside, muscles vibrating with tension, and took the elevator up to the sixth floor.

    Every ding of the elevator tightened the knot in my gut.

    When I reached his door—604—I hesitated for just a second.

    Then I knocked, two firm raps.

    There was a pause.

    Then the door swung open.

    And there he was.

    Sean stood barefoot in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of light grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.

    His body was unreal in the soft, golden light spilling from behind him—tall, broad, cut from marble. His abs rippled under taut, smooth skin, every muscle carved and perfect. His chest was bare, thick and powerful, a light dusting of hair trailing down toward the waistband of his sweats.

    And lower—between his thighs—the unmistakable bulge of his cock, heavy and thick, barely restrained by the soft fabric.

    He was devastating.

    He was everything I’d spent all week yearning for.
    And so much more.

    I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

    Sean smiled slowly, lazily, like a man who already knew exactly what effect he had.

    “Good boy,” he murmured, stepping aside to let me in.

    And without thinking, without hesitating, I dropped my eyes to the floor and stepped across the threshold—heart pounding, mouth dry, body already trembling with need.

  • Muscle For Serve

    Back on base…

    Kevin snuck up behind his squad leader, John Caine, and smacked him hard on the ass. “Captain! Whatcha thinkin’ about all alone out here?”

    John spun around, his face impassive, voice stern. “Kevin. Training’s about to start. What are you still doing here? You looking for extra drills later?”

    Kevin scratched his head, grinning sheepishly. “Nah, Captain. Just saw you standing here, figured I’d give you a heads-up on the time.”

    Despite his imposing build and strict demeanor during drills, John wasn’t known for being overly punitive and generally got along well with his men off-duty. Kevin wasn’t really afraid of him.

    John sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, alright. Get going. I’ll be there in a minute.”

    Kevin gave a quick “Yes, sir!” and jogged off. As soon as the soldier was out of sight, John quickly adjusted himself, shifting uncomfortably. That casual slap on the ass had inexplicably made him hard… He glared down irritably at the thick bulge straining against his uniform pants.

    Ever since that humiliating night at Mark’s place with that punk Alex, he’d been furious. But the underlying fear of Alex releasing that video kept him paralyzed, unable to even warn Mark properly about his dangerous student. Damn it. And ever since then… since being fucked raw like that… his ass had become ridiculously sensitive. Any casual touch seemed to set him off…

    John scrubbed a hand over his face, frustrated and disgusted with himself. The humiliation lingered, sharp and bitter.

    Three hours later, the brutal training session finally ended. Kevin groaned, massaging his aching muscles. The Captain had been riding everyone extra hard today, pushing the intensity far beyond normal limits. Guys were dropping like flies.

    Kevin considered hitting the showers immediately, but knew it would be packed. Better to grab dinner first and wait until things cleared out. Later, when the communal shower room was mostly empty, he headed in.

    It was practically deserted, steam hanging in the air. Kevin stripped off his sweaty gear, ready to wash off the grime, when he noticed a light on in one of the private shower stalls near the back. Glancing inside, he saw Captain Caine.

    “Captain! Showering late tonight too?” Kevin called out cheerfully.

    John startled violently, instinctively grabbing a towel to cover his lower body. “Ah, Kevin… yeah. Too crowded earlier. Quieter now.”

    Kevin laughed. “Great minds think alike, Captain! Same reason I waited.”

    John shifted uncomfortably, taking a step back from Kevin’s naked, muscular form. The casual way Kevin’s own thick, dark cock swung between his legs made John feel inexplicably hot. “Right… well… hurry it up…”

    Kevin, oblivious to his Captain’s inner turmoil, grinned. “Hey, Captain, you look beat after that workout. Let me give you a quick rubdown. Learned some massage techniques!” Before John could protest, Kevin was gently but firmly guiding him towards one of the massage benches lining the wall.

    John couldn’t think of a plausible reason to refuse without sounding weird. He reluctantly lay face down on the bench, still clutching the towel around his waist.

    Kevin returned with some massage oil. Seeing the towel, he chuckled and yanked it away without asking. “Come on, Captain! We’re all guys here. Nothing to hide!”

    John felt a rush of cold air on his exposed skin and couldn’t suppress a small gasp. “Hey—”

    The towel gone, John’s dark, firm, perfectly rounded ass cheeks were fully exposed. Since being brutally stretched by Alex, his ass seemed even more prominent, impossibly curved and firm, yet undeniably vulnerable.

    Kevin couldn’t help but swallow hard. Damn, the Captain’s ass… looked better than most women’s he’d seen…

    John felt the heat of Kevin’s stare burning into his backside. His own cock began to stir betrayingly against the cool vinyl of the bench. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately to remain impassive.

    Kevin started the massage, his hands working competently over John’s broad back and shoulders. After a few minutes working on his upper body, Kevin’s hands drifted lower, kneading John’s powerful thighs. Then, almost casually, his hands moved upwards again, settling firmly on John’s glutes, massaging the dense muscle.

    Kevin’s pressure increased gradually. John’s tightly clenched legs began to relax slightly under the firm manipulation. Kevin’s hands crept higher, closer to the cleft. As he worked the muscles, his thumbs pressed inwards, gently parting John’s cheeks slightly, revealing the hidden crease within.

    John kept his face pressed into the bench, his mind reeling. Kevin’s hands felt rough, strong, and increasingly bold. He knew he should order him to stop, push him away, assert his authority. But for some reason… he remained silent, letting the soldier’s hands work over his ass, feeling his own cock grow painfully hard, leaking precum onto the bench beneath him.

    Staring at the perfect, dark curve of his Captain’s ass, Kevin felt an impulsive urge take over. His hands moved decisively, firmly spreading John’s cheeks completely apart, exposing the vulnerable hole hidden within. It was startlingly pale in contrast to John’s dark skin, and even more shocking… it was completely smooth, shaved clean of all hair. The sight was unexpectedly, intensely erotic.

    Staring at the smooth, hairless crevice before him, Kevin felt a jolt of disbelief. The Captain? His tough, disciplined Captain… had an ass like this? So… exposed? So… inviting?

    John scrambled to his feet, his dark face flushed crimson. He snatched the fallen towel, wrapping it hastily around his waist. “I… I gotta go,” he mumbled, practically fleeing the shower room, leaving Kevin staring after his retreating back, his own cock inexplicably, powerfully erect.

    After that incident, John avoided Kevin religiously, never allowing himself to be alone with the soldier again. When the Lunar New Year leave came around, John left the base as quickly as possible.

    A few days before the holiday, John and his wife, Sarah, went to visit Mark and Megan. As soon as they arrived, Sarah and Megan disappeared into the kitchen, chatting excitedly like old friends – they got along well, often meeting for coffee or shopping.

    John greeted Mark, then turned and saw a young man sprawled on the sofa.

    “Matt? Haven’t seen you in ages! Look how big you’ve gotten,” John said, walking over and clapping the young man on the shoulder before sitting down beside him.

    Zhang Matt was Megan’s younger brother. Mark explained, “Matt’s studying sports science at the college nearby. He’s on break, so he’s staying with us for a few days.” Mark glanced at his brother-in-law. He hadn’t seen him in a while either. The young man had really filled out. His broad chest strained against the tight t-shirt he wore, and even through his loose grey sweatpants, the impressive bulge between his legs was clearly visible.

    Matt grunted a hello, looking bored. He was annoyed. Rare break from school, no basketball practice, and his sister insisted he stay home instead of finding some girls to hook up with. He’d been abstinent for two whole months because of the tournament season, and his dick felt like it was about to explode.

    Thinking about it made his cock stir again. Matt heard Mark clear his throat and realized his hard-on was noticeable. He swore under his breath but didn’t bother adjusting himself much; Megan and Sarah were still in the other room, and it was just guys here.

    He looked up and saw Mark’s face was slightly flushed. “Hey Bro-in-law,” Matt asked casually, “Why’s your face red? Is the heat on too high in here?”

    Mark jumped up quickly. “Uh… yeah, it’s a little warm. I’m gonna go splash some water on my face.” He beat a hasty retreat.

    Matt slumped back, bored, turning his attention to John. “Hey, Mr. Caine. Being in the army, all guys around all the time, stuck on base… that sucks, right?”

    John nodded curtly, his face cold, offering no further comment.

    Matt clicked his tongue. “Must be rough.” He gave John a conspiratorial wink. “Bet you’re climbing the walls, huh? No place to… blow off steam?”

    John’s eyes narrowed, pinning Matt with a sharp, intense glare. Matt immediately shut up, feeling a chill despite himself. Damn, military guys are intimidating, he thought.

    Suddenly, the doorbell rang. John got up to answer it. Standing on the doorstep was the last person he wanted to see: Alex.

    Alex looked momentarily surprised to see John, then his usual smirk returned. John felt a surge of pure rage and moved instinctively to slam the door shut. But Alex was too quick, slipping past him into the entryway, calling out loudly, “Mr. Davis! Mrs. Davis!”

    Megan and Mark came out from the kitchen at the sound of his voice. Megan smiled brightly. “Alex! Come in, come in, sit down.” Mark stood stiffly beside her, looking uncomfortable.

    Alex completely ignored John’s murderous glare and stony silence, casually plopping down on the sofa next to Matt. “Almost the New Year, just wanted to drop by and see my favorite teacher and his wife! Mr. Davis has been such a big help to me lately, just wanted to say thanks!” He shot Mark a look heavy with unspoken meaning.

    Over the past weeks, Alex had thoroughly claimed Mark’s body and his home. Mark and Megan’s bedroom had essentially become Alex’s personal fucking ground whenever he decided to “sleep over,” which was often. He frequently forced Mark to find opportunities to suck his cock while Megan was home, or cornered him for quick, rough sessions in the bathroom. Once, horrifically, he’d even dragged Mark out of bed and fucked him hard right beside the sleeping, oblivious Megan.

    Mark flinched instinctively at Alex’s words, feeling his legs go weak. He leaned subtly against the wall for support. So many people here today, he thought desperately. He can’t… he wouldn’t dare try anything now…

    Megan brought out a fruit platter for Alex, beaming. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Alex. You know, out of all Mark’s students, you seem to be the closest to him.”

    Yeah, shifting back to Mark’s house after the motel scene can be a bit jarring, but it sets up the next conflict.

    Alex smiled easily. “Well yeah, Mr. Davis really cares about us students. Always giving us extra tips on technique, you know? Without his… personal attention, we wouldn’t be improving nearly this fast!”

    Mark flushed hotly at the double entendre, quickly trying to change the subject. “Honey,” he said to Megan, “weren’t you two going shopping? You should get going.”

    Megan hesitated. “But Alex is here…”

    “It’s cool, Mrs. Davis,” Alex interjected smoothly. “Mr. Davis can keep me company. And Mr. Caine’s here too, right? We’re acquainted.”

    Megan, seeing Alex as just another polite student, agreed. “Okay then, we’ll head out. We’ll grab takeout on the way back. Alex, you’ll stay for dinner, of course.” With that, she and Sarah left.

    The atmosphere in the living room shifted immediately. Four men left alone. Mark hesitated, then deliberately sat on the armchair furthest from Alex.

    John glanced at the empty spot on the sofa next to Alex, then, refusing to show any weakness or intimidation, squared his shoulders and sat down right beside him.

    Matt, oblivious to the underlying tension, turned to Alex curiously. “So, what’s Mr. Davis really like at school? As strict as he is at home?”

    “Mr. Davis can be tough,” Alex said, shooting Mark a sly grin, “but he really looks out for his students. Especially certain ones… he gives them a lot of ‘private coaching’.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Yeah, me and some buddies often stay after school, work out extra hard with him in the storage shed. Always end up drenched in sweat. Mr. Davis is really… hands-on. Pushes us till we collapse. And he doesn’t just care about fitness, he helps us with… stress relief too. Whenever he sees us looking tense around campus, he always finds a way to help us… loosen up…”

    Mark squirmed, deeply uncomfortable. Even though Alex’s words were veiled, having others present made the innuendo feel ten times more humiliating. He quickly tried to redirect the conversation. “Hey, Matt, you’re looking ripped. Playing ball at college? Bet the girls are all over you, huh?”

    Matt immediately brightened, launching into enthusiastic stories about his “wild” college life.

    John sat stiffly, listening to Matt and Mark talk, occasionally adding a brief comment. After a few minutes, he suddenly felt a hand lightly touch his lower back.

    He shot a sharp look at Alex. He was facing the other two, seemingly engrossed in their conversation, a picture of innocence. But his hand was definitely exploring John’s back under the cover of the sofa cushions.

    At first, the touch was casual, just tracing circles on the broad expanse of John’s back. Then, the hand grew bolder, sliding downwards.

    John was wearing loose-fitting sweatpants today. Alex’s hand easily slipped under the waistband at the back, cupping John’s ass cheek through the thin material of his boxer briefs. John felt a surge of humiliation and anger. He shifted, trying to subtly move away from the unwanted touch, but that only seemed to embolden Alex, whose hand crept lower, fingers brushing against the sensitive crease of John’s ass, becoming more insistent, more brazen.

    Matt and Mark were busy comparing notes on their respective basketball prowess, bragging about their on-court dominance. John suddenly stiffened, a choked gasp escaping his lips. “Nnngh…” Alex had stealthily pulled the waistband of John’s boxers aside, slipping a finger inside, and then, without warning, probing his unprepared entrance.

    John glared at Alex, fury burning in his eyes. Alex simply stared back, a smirk playing on his lips, his finger continuing to curl and probe inside John’s tight hole.

    The memory of their previous encounter, of being bound and used, flashed vividly through John’s mind. His body, as if with a mind of its own, began to react, a disturbing warmth spreading through his groin.

    After a long moment of insistent fingering, Alex suddenly shoved two more fingers inside. The three fingers now mimicked the rhythm of fucking, stretching John’s tight entrance, the pressure building until John’s muscles began to relax, his own body betraying him again, growing slick with unwanted arousal.

    John’s breath hitched in his throat, his jaw clenched tight. He tried to maintain a neutral expression, to appear unaffected, while simultaneously struggling to stand up, to escape. But it was as if his limbs were filled with lead; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to gather the strength to pull himself up.

    Alex played with him for several more minutes, tormenting him with the insistent touch, before finally, reluctantly withdrawing his hand. John had just begun to breathe a sigh of relief when Alex, using his body to shield John from the other two, casually reached around John’s front.

    The hand immediately located John’s already painfully hard erection. Alex chuckled low in his throat, the sound laced with malicious amusement. He leaned in close, his voice a mocking whisper against John’s ear. “Well, well, Mr. Caine. Seems you’re even more eager than I thought. Dripping wet already. Someone’s a little slutty, aren’t they?”

    The humiliation was almost unbearable. John hated the way his body was responding, the unwanted arousal making him feel weak and exposed. He struggled against Alex’s hold, his muscles finally cooperating. With a sudden surge of strength, he shoved Alex’s hand away and scrambled to his feet, his face burning red. Without a word, he practically fled the room, retreating into the relative safety of the master bedroom.

    Matt and Mark exchanged confused glances. “What’s up with Mr. Caine?” Matt asked. “Where’d he go?”

    Alex stood up, putting on a concerned expression. “He looked kinda stressed just now. Maybe I should check on him.”

    He walked calmly to the master bedroom door, slipped inside quickly, and locked it behind him.

    John was leaning against the dresser, his back to the door, his powerful shoulders heaving. Hearing the door open and lock, he spun around. Seeing Alex, fury contorted his features. He lunged across the room, grabbing Alex by the collar, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “You… What the FUCK do you want?!”

    Alex remained completely calm, even smirking slightly. “Easy there, soldier boy. Getting all worked up. Didn’t we have fun last time? Got the video to prove it, remember? You, begging for my big cock to fuck you senseless. Can’t deny it.” He glanced around the room casually. “Pretty sure this is the very room I popped your cherry in, right? Gotta say, Mr. Caine, great body, even better ass.”

    John tightened his grip, wanting nothing more than to beat the punk senseless. “Did you… Did you show that video to anyone?” he ground out.

    “Nah,” Alex said nonchalantly, shrugging. “Something that special? Gotta keep it private. Just on my phone. No one else has seen it… yet.” He rubbed his own crotch suggestively. “Just thinking about your hot military body gets me hard again. How about another round?”

    John shoved Alex away violently and stormed out of the room, then straight out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

    Alex sauntered back into the living room. “Guess Mr. Caine had an urgent call back to base,” he told Matt and Mark smoothly.

    John paced outside for a long time, his mind racing. That video… He had to get it, destroy it. The only way was to get Alex’s phone. Steeling himself, he checked his watch. Dinnertime. He turned and headed back towards Mark’s house.

    He let himself in quietly. His wife and Megan were back, everyone gathered around the dinner table. Alex, unsurprisingly, was still there. Megan greeted him cheerfully, urging him to sit down and eat.

    Halfway through the meal, Megan asked Alex, “Alex, it’s getting late. Did you let your parents know where you are?”

    “Oh, right,” Alex said casually. He patted his pockets. “Damn, must’ve left my phone in the SUV. Can I borrow yours real quick, Mrs. Davis?”

    Matt looked surprised, whistling softly. “Nice wheels for someone so young, man. Parents spoil you, huh?”

    Alex just chuckled, taking the phone Megan offered and stepping away to make a fake call.

    An idea sparked in John’s mind. He excused himself and went to the coat rack near the door. Rummaging through the pockets of Alex’s jacket, he found a set of car keys. Making a quick excuse about needing something from his own car, he slipped outside and began searching the nearby street for Alex’s vehicle.

    After a few minutes, he spotted it – a sleek, expensive-looking SUV parked down the block. He unlocked it with the remote and slid inside.

    The moment he shut the door, John frowned. There was a strange, cloyingly sweet smell inside the car. It seemed faintly familiar, unsettling, but he was focused on finding the phone. He started searching the front seats, the glove compartment, the center console.

    Finally, tucked under the back seat, he found it. Relief washed over him, quickly followed by sweat beading on his forehead. He turned the phone on – passcode protected. Damn it. Maybe he should just smash it right here, get rid of the evidence once and for all…

    Suddenly, a tapping sound on the window made him jump. He looked up. Alex was standing outside, grinning maliciously.

    John instinctively clutched the phone tighter and reached for the passenger door handle, but it wouldn’t open. He tried his own door – locked. He fumbled with the electronic locks, but nothing worked. The car was sealed shut from the outside.

    As he struggled futilely with the doors, John realized the strange sweet smell in the car was getting stronger, thicker. He felt dizzy, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid. His skin started to feel hypersensitive. And then, the horrifyingly familiar sensations began – his cock starting to harden without any stimulation, leaking precum, and that deep, insistent itch starting low in his ass. Sweat trickled down his back, pooling uncomfortably, making him instinctively squirm, trying to relieve the growing pressure.

    “You…” John tried to speak, but only a low groan escaped his lips.

    Alex calmly opened the driver’s side door, leaning against the frame, coldly observing John’s drugged state. John, clinging to the last shreds of his self-control, tried to scramble out of the car. Alex simply planted a boot firmly in John’s chest, shoving him back down onto the seat.

    “Fuck, trying to steal from my car now, soldier boy? Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough last time. Used my special new blend today. You’re not leaving this car until you’re my personal fucking cocksleeve!”

    With that, Alex stepped fully into the car, planting one foot firmly on John’s straining erection, grinding his heel down brutally.

    “Nnngh…” John arched his back, trying to escape the pressure, but his drugged body refused to obey. He was completely powerless, forced to endure the degrading torment.

    After a few minutes of grinding his heel into John’s cock, Alex seemed satisfied that the drugs had taken full effect. He shut the car door, locking it again, then reached over, grabbed John by the hair, and yanked his head down towards his own crotch.

    “Take a good sniff, slut,” Alex hissed. “Remember this smell? This is the cock that fucked you senseless last time. Been missing it, haven’t you? Pretending you didn’t, but deep down, you’ve been craving it!”

    Alex dropped his pants completely. His thick, dark, veiny cock, already slick and fully erect, sprang free, slapping hard against John’s face.

    John stared at the massive, intimidating weapon inches from his eyes. His breath hitched, the dark flush deepening on his handsome face. In his drugged state, the cock looked menacing, yet… incredibly appealing. His lips parted slightly without conscious thought, his nostrils flaring as if trying to inhale more of that potent, masculine scent.

    Alex slid his cock up and down John’s face, smearing thick precum across his nose and lips. He deliberately avoided entering John’s mouth, teasing him. John’s slightly parted lips remained open, waiting, wanting. Frustrated, he opened his mouth wider, his tongue instinctively darting out, a picture of raw, desperate need.

    “Open wider,” Alex commanded coldly. The voice held an unnatural authority, like a superior officer giving an order. John obeyed mechanically, stretching his jaw as wide as it would go.

    “Good boy. Good dog,” Alex praised mockingly, then shoved his veiny cock deep into John’s mouth. John’s strong, rugged features contorted around the thick intrusion. In that moment, he was no longer a disciplined soldier, just a degraded whore taking cock.

    Fucking John’s handsome mouth again sent a jolt of pure pleasure through Alex. He grabbed John’s hair, forcing his head down, burying most of his length deep in John’s throat. John’s nose was pressed into Alex’s thick pubic hair, the musky scent overwhelming. Humiliation burned, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, yet his own cock pulsed harder against his belly, his body growing even more sensitive. His hands came up unconsciously, gripping Alex’s muscular thighs – was he trying to push him away, or hold him closer, keep that big cock from leaving?

    “Fuck!” Alex groaned, riding John’s mouth hard. “Even better than last time, slut! Must practice sucking cock at home, huh?! How else could a tough guy like you be so damn good at it? Born to be a cock-sucking whore!”

    He deep-throated John for several long minutes before pulling back slightly, though clearly not finished tormenting John’s mouth. Gripping the sides of the car seat for leverage, Alex began fucking John’s mouth rhythmically, using it like a tight hole.

    “Use your tongue, slut… worship my cock…”

    John could only submit, taking the relentless pounding, his tongue instinctively darting out to lick and caress Alex’s shaft whenever it paused inside his mouth. Staring up at the boy dominating him, seemed to morph in John’s drugged perception, Alex seemed to morph, becoming larger, more imposing, like a conquering general. And John? He was just a lowly soldier, existing only to serve his general’s pleasure, his general’s cock. He had to use every part of his body to worship the brutal shaft forcing its way down his throat. Thinking this, John felt his own asshole begin to clench and slick with wetness, his vision blurring, focused solely on the overwhelming presence of that big, dark, demanding cock.

    Alex fucked John’s mouth until he was thoroughly satisfied, finally pulling out with a wet sucking sound. His glistening cock head pressed against John’s cheek. John gasped for breath, eyes squeezed shut, saying nothing. His strong, handsome face was smeared with Alex’s fluids, looking utterly debauched.

    Alex contemptuously slapped John’s cheek a few times with his cock. “Fuck, you even get off on sucking dick, don’t you? Getting all wet and hard just from that.”

    John remained stubbornly silent, seemingly determined to endure without giving Alex the satisfaction of a verbal response. This only fueled Alex’s determination. Used the old drugs last time, new shit this time, he thought. No way I’m not gonna break this hardass! Done talking, Alex roughly stripped the remaining boxer briefs off John, leaving his powerful, muscular body completely naked and exposed.

    Alex paused, openly admiring John’s physique for a moment, then roughly spread John’s muscular thighs. He positioned his cock at John’s already slick entrance. Without bothering with any more lube, he slammed forward, driving deep inside.

    “Nnngh…!” John grunted, biting down hard on his lip, suppressing the cry of pain and shock. His long-empty asshole was suddenly, brutally filled by Alex’s thick, hard cock. For a split second, the intense pleasure nearly overwhelmed his sense of self, his identity. He almost wanted to scream, to moan shamelessly for the punk violating him, but his ingrained military discipline held him back, a last bastion of resistance. Absolutely not… Cannot break…

    Alex felt the subtle shift in John’s body, the involuntary clenching followed by a near-surrender to the pleasure. He smirked. Getting to him. This muscle-bound soldier was starting to like it. Just needed a little more persuasion…

    Alex began employing all the dirty tricks he’d learned. After the initial deep thrusts to shock John’s system, he pulled back, fucking him shallowly for a long time, grinding and teasing just inside the entrance. He relentlessly rubbed against John’s prostate until John was squirming, his hips subtly bucking, unconsciously trying to take the cock deeper. Just when John seemed desperate, Alex would suddenly slam his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt again, making John shudder violently, his legs tensing.

    Alex repeated the pattern – long periods of shallow teasing followed by deep, punishing thrusts. John felt like he was going insane, the constant denial making the eventual deep penetration feel even more intense. His asshole throbbed, aching for more, for the constant pressure, the complete fullness. His body craved the violation even as his mind fought against it.

    John’s face was flushed a deep red now, his eyes losing focus, his mouth falling open as he gasped for breath. His own cock was painfully hard, slick with precum, twitching uselessly against his belly.

    Alex leaned close to John’s ear, his voice a low, insidious whisper as he continued his relentless rhythm. “Feeling good now, slut? Like getting fucked like this? Moan for me if it feels good. How else will Daddy know how to make you feel even better? This new stuff is strong, soldier boy. No point fighting it. Just give in, be a good whore for me, and maybe I’ll give you pleasure you never even dreamed of.”

    Hearing Alex’s seductive words, John’s drugged mind began to rationalize, to surrender. Yeah… it’s the drugs… gotta be the drugs making me feel this way… making me enjoy being fucked by a man… Just pretend… play along for now… deal with it later…

    Unconsciously, John’s tightly controlled breathing started to break, low whimpers escaping his lips. His powerful legs, almost of their own accord, began to wrap around Alex’s waist, pulling him closer.

    Alex felt the shift in John’s body, the subtle surrender. He grinned triumphantly, then suddenly slammed his hips forward with brutal force, targeting John’s prostate relentlessly. “Feels good? Huh? Tell me!”

    John finally broke completely. Eyes squeezed shut, his voice raw and hoarse, he groaned, “Nnngh… Yes… Good… So fucking good…”

    “Good where? Use your words!”

    “Behind… My ass… getting… fucked… feels too good…”

    Alex reached up, grabbing John’s nipples again, twisting them hard. “Getting fucked by a man’s big cock feels good, right? Getting all wet for it, dripping all over my shaft. That’s not an asshole anymore, soldier boy. It’s a pussy. A tight man-pussy made for taking cock!”

    “Mmm… Pussy… Yes… Pussy… Big cock fucking my pussy… feels so good… Don’t stop…” John’s usually deep, commanding voice was now laced with a husky, desperate edge that was incredibly erotic.

    Hearing the proud soldier finally reduced to this, moaning filthily beneath him, filled Alex with intense satisfaction. So tough, huh? So disciplined? Look at you now, just a fucking whore taking my cock! All these muscle-bound guys, acting all stoic and hard, but underneath, they were all just cock-hungry sluts, desperate for a real man to break them.

    He lowered his head, continuing to pound into John for several more minutes before finally roaring, burying his cock as deep as it would go, and unloading another massive shot of semen inside John’s violated body. He stayed embedded inside John afterwards, letting him feel the pulsing heat.

    John, having never been cummed inside before, felt a wave of shame and panic mixed with the overwhelming physical sensation. He lay gasping for breath, trying to recover, when he suddenly realized with horror that the cock still lodged deep inside him was hardening again. “How… How are you hard again already…” he choked out, bewildered.

    Alex just laughed cruelly. “Hahaha! Young buck like me? Got plenty of stamina!”

    Alex commanded, his voice harsh, “Get up. Turn around. On your hands and knees! Like a dog. Fucks deeper that way!”

    John’s mind recoiled at the humiliating order, but his drugged, compliant body began to move before he could consciously decide. Throughout the awkward maneuvering in the cramped car seat, Alex kept his cock firmly embedded inside John, grinding and shifting, sending waves of pleasure through John that robbed him of any remaining strength or will to resist.

    Once John was positioned on all fours, presenting his ass, Alex showed no mercy. He grabbed John’s large, firm ass cheeks and began fucking him again, hard and rhythmically, slapping his flesh with each thrust.

    “Nnngh… Ah ah… So deep… fuck… feels so good…” John gasped, his mouth hanging open, drool slicking his chin.

    Alex thrust with a steady, punishing rhythm, his hands gripping John’s hips. The slick heat of John’s body clenched around him, muscles flexing involuntarily with each deep stroke. “This big fat cock’s got you wrecked, doesn’t it?” Alex growled, voice low and rough, a smirk tugging at his lips. He gave John’s ass a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the cramped backseat of the SUV. “Bet you’re already craving it again.”

    John’s breath hitched, his body shuddering as Alex’s cock drove into him, stretching the tight ring of muscle with a burn that blurred into pleasure. His insides felt raw, the sensitive tissue pulsing around the thick intrusion, every nerve alight. “Fuck… so good,” he rasped, voice cracked and barely recognizable, nothing like the steady command he’d once carried. “Your cock… it’s too much… feels like it’s splitting me open… need it so bad.”

    Alex chuckled, dark and smug, his fingers digging into the taut flesh of John’s thighs. “Knew you’d turn into my slut the second I got inside you. Look at you, soldier boy, falling apart on my dick.” He slowed his thrusts, letting John feel every inch drag against his inner walls, the slick friction igniting sparks deep in his core. “You gonna be my personal fuckhole now? Begging for this every damn day?”

    John’s arms trembled as he braced himself against the seat, his body slick with sweat. The relentless pressure in his guts, the way Alex’s cock nudged against that sensitive spot inside, made his head spin. “Yeah… fuck, yes,” he gasped, voice breaking. “My pussy’s yours… only yours. Fill it up… please…”

    With a grunt, Alex yanked John’s wrists back, forcing his spine into a straining arc. John’s muscles screamed, his body completely at Alex’s mercy, the once-disciplined soldier reduced to a quivering toy. The stretch and pull of his insides around Alex’s cock was overwhelming, each thrust sending a jolt through the tight coil of nerves buried deep in his pelvis.

    “Nngh… deeper,” John moaned, his own cock twitching, leaking precum onto the leather seat. His orgasm hit like a freight train, his balls tightening as he spilled across the backseat, the release tearing a ragged cry from his throat. His inner muscles clamped down hard, spasming around Alex’s shaft.

    “Jesus, you’re a mess,” Alex laughed, voice dripping with mockery. “Cumming just from getting fucked? Look at this shit—you trashed my car.” He slapped John’s ass again, the sting sharp against oversensitive skin. “What’re you gonna do to make it up, huh?”

    John’s head hung low, his body still trembling from the aftershocks. “Sorry… felt too fucking good,” he mumbled, voice thick with shame and need. “Couldn’t stop it… punish me. Use that big fat cock… I can handle it.”

    Alex snorted, leaning back against the seat, his hand lazily stroking his slick cock. “Tough guy, huh? Let’s see you prove it.” He gave his shaft a slow pump, eyes glinting. “Get up here and ride it. Make that slut-pussy work for me.”

    The sudden absence of Alex’s cock left John hollow, a desperate ache clawing at his insides, the tender walls of his hole twitching with need. He whimpered, craving that thick, pulsing heat to fill him again. Lost in a haze of lust, he fumbled in the cramped SUV, muscles straining as he turned, braced his hands on Alex’s shoulders, and gripped Alex’s slick shaft. With a shudder, he lowered himself, the blunt head stretching his raw, sensitive rim, sinking deep into the tight clutch of his body.

    The car was a sauna of sweat and sex, their bodies—John’s broad, chiseled frame and Alex’s lean, powerful build—pressed close, skin slick and burning. The musky scent, once repulsive to John’s disciplined senses, now flooded his mind, a primal trigger that drowned him in desire. He forgot the world outside, focused only on the stretch and burn of Alex’s cock, his hips rocking instinctively, riding with a shameless, fevered rhythm.

    John’s gasps filled the air, his body pliant, every muscle yielding to the relentless pleasure. His nipples, hard and sensitive, grazed Alex’s chest, sparking jolts of heat as Alex’s fingers teased them. The wet, rhythmic slap of their bodies echoed, John’s inner walls gripping Alex’s cock, each thrust grinding against the swollen bundle of nerves deep inside, sending shocks through his core.

    —

    At the house, Sarah paced, brow furrowed. “Where’s John? He’s been gone too long,” she muttered.

    Megan glanced at Mark, who was fidgeting in the kitchen. “Didn’t he say something about heading downstairs? This place is huge. Maybe Matt could check?”

    Matt, itching for something to do, nodded. “Sure, I’ll look.” He and Sarah headed downstairs, scanning the complex’s main areas with no sign of John.

    Sarah pulled out her phone, dialing John. It rang endlessly before he picked up, his voice rough, strained. “H-hey, Sarah… what’s up?”

    “John, where are you? What’s taking so long?”

    John’s breath hitched, words stumbling. “Ran into… an old friend… catching up… ngh…” A low groan slipped out, barely muffled.

    Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “John? You okay? What was that?”

    “Just… fooling around… you know, guy stuff… roughhousing…” he panted.

    A faint laugh came through the line, another voice, low and mocking. “Pretty exciting, huh? Getting fucked while chatting with your wife? Look at you, taking it…”

    John gasped, voice cracking. “Sarah… gotta go… talk later… ngh… bye.” The call cut off.

    Sarah stared at her phone, unease curling in her gut. It rang again, and she stepped away from Matt to answer, her voice sharp.

    Matt, left alone, lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly. His gaze drifted to a dark SUV parked nearby, rocking subtly, rhythmically. A smirk tugged at his lips—someone was getting busy. Curious, he strolled closer, eyes narrowing.

    Inside, Alex spotted Matt approaching and grinned, leaning close to John’s ear. “Well, look who’s here. Your cousin-in-law. Wonder what he’d think, seeing his big, tough soldier getting his ass pounded.”

    Panic surged through John, his heart hammering. “Alex… please… don’t let him see…” he begged, his hole clenching tighter around Alex’s cock, hips grinding harder in a desperate bid to please.

    Alex’s laugh was cruel. With a flick, he cracked the tinted passenger window, just enough to tease. John yelped, twisting to hide his face, his arm shielding his features.

    Alex kept thrusting, casual as he called out, “Yo, Matt! What’s good?”

    Matt blinked, stunned. “Alex? Damn, didn’t know you were… uh, into car action.” His eyes adjusted, catching the scene, shock hitting as he recognized John’s frame, the soldier reduced to a writhing mess. “Wait… a guy? You’re into dudes?”

    Alex’s grin widened. “Hell yeah. A tight man-pussy like this? Feels fucking unreal.” He smacked John’s ass, the sound sharp. “Show him, slut. Spread that pussy, let him see how you take this cock.”

    John’s fear spiked, but the danger twisted into a perverse thrill, his cock throbbing painfully. He moaned, low and broken, bracing against the seat and arching his back, grinding down on Alex’s shaft, the slick drag against his insides driving him wild.

    Alex pinched John’s nipple, twisting hard. “Feels good, doesn’t it? This pussy fought me at first, but now? Can’t get enough. You’re my fuckhole now, ready whenever I call. Built like a tank, but just a cumdump for cocks.” He thrust deeper, making John’s body jolt.

    Matt watched, throat dry, his own cock straining after months of nothing. “That… really feels that good?” he croaked. “Never tried… ass before…” The sight of John—strong, masculine, broken by Alex’s cock—lit a fire in him, the power dynamic intoxicating.

    Sarah’s voice called out, sharp and close. Matt spun, stepping back to meet her, his pulse racing.

    “He’ll be back soon,” Sarah said, irritated. “Let’s head up.” Matt nodded, following, his mind spinning.

    Alone again, John’s sob broke free, raw with shame. “You… bastard…”

    Alex’s eyes flashed. He yanked out, shoving John sprawling across the seat. “Watch your fucking mouth! You’re nothing but a hole for my cock. Forgot who owns you? Talk shit, and you’re out.”

    John trembled, the emptiness in his ass agonizing, the itch unbearable. His resolve crumbled, voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry… please, Daddy… forgive your whore…”

    Alex sneered. “Better. When I want that pussy, what do you do?”

    “Obey… ass up, ready for Daddy… anything to please you… just keep fucking me…”

    Alex grunted, satisfied, and shoved his cock back in. John cried out, relief flooding him as the thick shaft stretched his aching hole, hitting that sweet spot. “Fuck… so good… Daddy’s cock… so big…”

    Alex picked up speed, voice a low growl. “Not big enough if it doesn’t tame this slut-pussy.” He pounded harder, relentless. “Gonna let me visit you on base? Train my favorite soldier whenever I want?”

    “Yes… come to the barracks… use me… whatever Daddy wants…” John gasped, lost in the haze.

    Alex grinned, victory sharp in his chest. John was his now, broken and owned. He pictured it—bringing Jake, Nathan, maybe even Matt, making the cousins serve him together. His cock throbbed at the thought.

    They fucked wildly in the SUV’s tight confines, the air thick with sweat and cum, until Alex finally spilled, leaving John wrecked, sprawled across the seat, body smeared and eyes glazed.

    Alex adjusted his clothes, slapping John’s cheek lightly. “Get dressed. Go face your wife. Make up a story. I’ll call you soon.”

  • The Camp Faggot Piss Slave

    Piss Slave 2nd day at camp

    During my first night at camp while sleeping naked on a plastic mattress inside my tent with a bright light on me all night and the front door flap open wide, several men came in and piss showered my entire body even though I was not in the piss pool.  I was kept soaked in piss from head to toe most the Night. The piss that didn’t hit my body was soaked into the ground. The inside of the tent was smelling like piss and shit and I was the center of attention.  In the morning after waking up I had to take a big shit. There I am sitting on the potty when a man walks in and starts to piss on my chest and legs while I am shitting.  He tells me that I am a Faggot Piss Pig and I deserve to be pissed on anytime any man needs to relieve himself.  He admitted to me that he piss showered me in the pool, in the tent while I was on the mattress sleeping and now this morning while I am taking a shit. He told me that he’s going to piss on me all weekend because I deserve it. 

    The sun started to rise and I am now in the pool before breakfast. About 6 men approached and told me that I am a fuckin faggot piss slave and they all needed to piss shower me in their morning piss. I was completely soaked from head to toe by all six men.  Another group of 4 men appeared and said that they too needed to shower me with their morning piss. I’m now totally soaked and the pool is filling up fast. I can now splash the piss on my body keeping my body wet between piss showers. Master came by and said he’s receiving good reports about my assignment. He piss soaked me and said he’s off to get my breakfast. There were another 4 guys who came by to unload their morning piss on my body before my Master returned with my breakfast.  Just when I thought I would get a reprieve from the piss while eating breakfast, the man who pissed on me while I was taking a shit this morning came by and told me he really had to piss and told me to get ready. He knew I was eating so he only peed on me from the waist down.  The same guy said that he would be coming by again tomorrow during breakfast but this time Master was going to bring me some cereal in a bowl with no milk in it.  While being served breakfast tomorrow he and a group of his friends were going to piss in my cereal bowl and watch me eat the cereal because a real Faggot Piss Slave is supposed to serve Alpha men and I may as well learn what that means. I became more  humiliated and degraded knowing that strangers were going to abuse me in this way and my Master agrees with the action. 

    to be continued….