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Gareth was a guy I met on a black and white photography night class held at a very popular London college.

This was early 2000s.

He was white, a chubby bear and around my height at 6ft 1in. Gareth was Welsh and like me in his 30s.

I could tell Gareth was a gay bear because he had a bear footprint tattoo on his right arm.

Gareth had this imposing figure and personality. He was such a cocky sod.

After that first night class of introductories some of us headed to a nearby pub to discuss our initial photo assignments.

Believe  me, I fancied Gareth straight away and ensured I sat next to him in the pub.

Playing dumb I asked Gareth what was the meaning of his tattoo. 

“You wouldn’t want to you” replied Gareth 

“I bear you” I whispered to Gareth.

Gareth winked at me and smiled followed by nods of the head.

From then the low key flirting began as we had our side chat away from the rest of the crew. 

“I love dark skinned black guys” Gareth added  “Hope you are not offended”

“No no…I am too long gone to be offended. I’m very broadminded if you know what I mean. Then again Welsh bears always float my boat”

“You’ve ever been to Wales?” he asked.

“Many times both on work stuff and for short breaks such as watching 6 nations (rugby union). I love Cardiff and Aberdare”

Evening classes were two nights a week and Gareth and I really developed a kinship over the rest of that September.

By late October, when late afternoons were now dark, Gareth and I would spend a few times having quick drinks before heading to class.

Fortunately Gareth worked (graphic designer) just a few stops from my office (central London) and sometimes we would have a fry up English breakfast before work at a greasy spoon cafe 

He was big flirt and very tactile. Gareth was well over 300lbs with huge thighs. So when Gareth barely nudged me in a teasing way you felt it.

Evening classes were great. We took photos and learnt how to develop the films in the dark room.

The dark rooms was accessible even at weekends and Gareth and I snogged and fondled in the dark room like kids. 

Kissing in a pitched black dark room was something else. For one thing it’s as if the world outside didn’t exist and we knew no one would interrupt us until we left the room.

We would sometimes find a empty classroom, lock the door and Gareth would pin me against the wall as he chewed my sensitive nips into kingdom cum. 

In his words Gareth was a bit of a tart and bragged endlessly about the long list of black men he slept with or are chasing him.

I was not surprised and the charisma that came from been around this Welsh giant made you feel great about oneself.

Gareth suggested we head out to the outskirts of London and chillax for the day.

“Brighton any good?” I asked

“Perfect, let’s make a proper night of it”

I booked ourselves into a hotel facing the sea. 

I love Brighton mostly in the spring but the only thing worth doing in Brighton on a cold dark November is staying in a big double cavorting bed.

Gareth’s sexual appetite was like a rage of fire. Bags hit the floor and Gareth was out of the blocks. 

He pushed me on the bed and climbed on top and  kissed and bit and licked my face and neck in an ice creamish sort of way.

Then Gareth went in for the immediate kill when he licked and nibbled my ears which sent vibrations down to my toes as I tried unsuccessfully to moved my head from thls oral onslaught.

Gareth jumped up and started to undress and suggested we have a shower together.

I can’t tell you what a thrill it was to run my soapy hands over Gareth’s man mountain of a back.

Then Gareth sat on the bed and he pulled me to sit on his left thigh. I felt like a child having a Santa moment.

There we kissed, caressed each others back and he was tugging my nipples.

My large nipples were nothing in comparison to Gareth’s magnificent moobs. I have female friends who would be envious of Gareth’s tits.

By now it was 8pm and Gareth was at his seductive best.

He took out his DVD player and started to play some Teddy Prendergast, Al Green, Donny Hathaway and Isly Brothers classics in the background with windows slightly ajar and feeling the cool air coming off the sea.

Gareth duly obliged to my ass eating requests by planting that temporary Wonder of Brighton right on my face.

This was some proper deep sea diving stuff as my tongue was feasting on his hole then coming up for air when Gareth eased up a bit. 

Then Gareth dropped that arse on my face and moved it aggressively as he tongued the contours of my 9 incher with delicate precision.

Gareth decided to postpone proceedings and suggested we head out for some food.

I was relieved. Didn’t fancy cumming on an empty stomach.

We headed to a fish and chip shop along the Brighton pier and during our 10 minute stroll guys stared at Gareth like he was some celebrity.

Gareth was one sexy big unit.

We walked along the chily seafront close to midnight.  I was relieved to have had on my coat as the minute Gareth held my hand my cock was in a lift-off position. 

Back at the Queens Hotel Gareth decided to take things further and oiled up for an overdue fuck. 

My cock is pretty thick and long. Or so I thought, as entering Gareth my cock went straight in and was swimming freely.

Then there was a knock on the room door.

“Get that for me” Gareth asked

As I attempted to put on a pair of shorts Gareth added “You won’t be needing that”

“Excuse me?” I was saying internally

So I gently pulled the door and this black smart casually dressed  guy asked if Gareth was there.

I said yes ask I pulled the door wider for him to come in.

Gareth got up from the bed and greeted this dude with a kiss and a hug.

Definitely the first and only time I’ve been introduced  a stranger when completely naked supported by a semi stiffy.

(I lie. Communal showers intro did happen.  But that’s different me thinks)

Gareth introduced me to Patrick, he was based in Brighton.

Like I said earlier Gareth was a bit of a tart and he had orchestrated this threesome last minute without telling either myself of Patrick.

Gareth was holding my cock and said to Patrick 

“Have a feel at how heavy this monster is?”

I nodded to Patrick that he could do so and at that moment two guys were holding my cock. This was beyond fantasy fever.

Then Patrick and I kissed and Gareth joined in the kissing triangle whilst both men tweak my nips.

I was tugging at Gareths nips whilst a now nude Patrick was playing with his now solid dick.

In no time I became the centre of attention as I laid on the bed and both men were tonguing my sensitive nips like some tag team.

“Hmmm” I was thinking to myself “they’ve done this before.” But I kept such thoughts to myself.

I took a brief break and observed how Patrick and Gareth getting on. Gareth gripped my legs with his huge legs to ensure I remained on the bed.

Despite this lust-in I could sense some tension from Patrick as if I had stolen his spotlight.

But Gareth was the main man in charge and whatever he initiated we followed suited. 

Patrick and I had our tag team moment as we took in turns to fuck Gareth’s supersized butt hole.

Protected.

Whenever Patrick took his turn to fuck Gareth he also chewed on my nips.

I was more than happy to let Patrick continue screwing Gareth but the latter was not having it and would direct fucking directions like some air traffic controller

Thankfully Patrick came, cleaned up and said his goodbyes m.

Gareth and I had the rest of that early morning together before we left back for London.

Gareth did not return for stage 2 of the photography course in January. 

I did visit the big mans apartment once and as I was leaving Gareth and strolling pass the reception area the security guard said to me

“He’s really good ain’t it blood?

“Excuse me?”

“Great cock sucker..you know….Gareth?”

“Have you .. I mean… .had his …” I just didn’t know what to say 

“Yeah, yeah..  been there, done that….. he has been with most of us in this block. Gareth is a cock star bruv”

Tart.

Chapter 30

Ring of fire

*Matt*

I came out naked, only that chain around my neck. When I looked at Thomas, I could myself shivering. He stood in the middle of the ring made of burning candles. His feet were bare, and he wore only black suit pants and a black leather belt. 

The way he stood in a wide stance with hands in his pockets made his naked chest look even broader. 

His hair was also different. They were all out of his face styled back. He looked menacing! 

But his eyes were, however, the most memorable. The look he was giving me was demanding and fierce.  

Fuck, how much I enjoyed seeing him like this.

I wanted to say something like, “Candles, how romantic!” But I kept my mouth shut and just smiled at him.

He looked at me calmly with a smile that sent chills through me. That cruel, devilish smile I loved so much by this point. It urged my body to run, but my dick demanded more with so much intensity that the body could only obey.

“Kneel before me, Matthew.”

I came over to him and knelt. Thomas moved behind me, and I felt his hands adjust my back and arms.

Oh no, so we are doing this?… really?

“I will consider you looking at me as your soft limit.”

“What’s that?”

Thomas walked around. He looked at me and slapped me.

What the heck?

“Master,” Thomas said calmly, just as if correcting me on the wrong formula in an excel sheet… seriously?

I took a deep breath. This is ridiculous… “What is a soft limit, Master?”

“Soft limit is something you don’t find desirable, but you can compromise on, to some extent. I don’t usually work with soft limits, to be honest, but we already established my low expectations for this trial.”

Ouch… that wasn’t necessary…

“Since I usually demand high protocol with eyes down at all times, this changes a lot for me. But I will let you look at me and strip you of that right as part of the punishments.”

He peered down at me. “Keep those shoulders straight. Next time I will correct you in a less pleasant way.”

I adjusted myself.

“Do you know what is a high protocol?”

“Yes, Master. Owen explained that.”

“Good. Try to tell me how you understand that, Matthew.”

“It’s the way a slave is expected to behave. In high protocol, the discipline is held by the highest standards and is rewarded or punished accordingly.”

“Fuck, Matthew, you are making me crazy when you talk like this,” he growled. I looked at him, absolutely stunned. I never heard him speak in the tone he used just now. He took me by the throat and sucked on my lips in a hungry kiss. I kissed him back, and he let go of me.

“What a good boy.”

I smiled.

“Yeah. I think you understand that well. But I cannot imagine you acting that way for some reason.”

“Do you want me to follow the high protocol, Master?”

He pierced me with his eyes. Is that it? I just hoped he would fuck me. I didn’t want to get all theoretical and shit. But seeing his arousal, I wanted to make him happy and see whether I could also draw enjoyment from it on some level.

“If I were to hold you to it, Matthew, I would have first to train you. That takes longer than the trial version would allow. I was under the impression that you want to see this world mainly from a sexual perspective.”

“I do, but I want to learn about this.”

“Why? I can see you react to simple instructions, I know you well enough, and I had enough subs to know that you don’t enjoy other parts of BDSM than the sex.”

Damn… I hoped I could conceal it better.

“I want to make you happy.”

“I don’t want you to make me happy based on a lie, Matthew. I had a sub like that, and it broke my heart when I found out the truth.”

We are talking too much… can’t we just fuck? I thought. But then I looked at him, realizing I again acted selfishly and tried to act like I was doing it for him. I saw his eyes. He saw right through me. He knew I was just aiming for a specific goal by any means necessary. I wanted him to want me to with no regard for the hurt he might feel if I misled him like that. He is really perceptive.

I exhaled. Fine. “Is there a chance for you to train me and keep my personality at the same time? Because I saw Owen when he talked about you, and I have known him for years. He was stripped of all his character in his sub role.”

“Owen was like that when I met him. I have to say that I loved that about him.”

“He was like that before?”

“In his sub-persona. Yes. But I again loved that. He was moldable, and we both took great pleasure from that.”

“You said you would have to break me in training. Would I become like that?”

“Honestly, I believe it would take a few months and very rigorous training with your temperament, but yes.”

I hated that idea.

“Would you want that, Thomas?” Screw the whole role-play; this was something crucial for me. I needed the truth now. I peered into his eyes. He must’ve known this was his only chance to get rid of me. And I believed he did know that.

“If anyone ever before you asked me that question, I would say yes without hesitation. I was on top of the world living with Owen. You can’t imagine, Matt. I would marry him within a year if I didn’t find out about Sam. Owen set a very high bar for all others, and I told myself that I would take a break from men after that.”

“Then why me?”

“I seriously don’t know, Matt. It drives me crazy, and I honestly hate that. I can’t really control it.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Would you want me being stripped of my personality like that, Thomas?”

“No.”

I exhaled in relief and grinned.

“Then how about we would write our own rules? And I can promise you that I will treat those to the highest protocol, Master.” I purred, and his eyes darkened.

“You are either the best or the worst thing that could happen to me, Matt.”

“I believe you are the best for me, Thomas.”

“Don’t say things like that, Matt.”

“Why? Cos it brings emotions out of that tough, dominant shell you love so much?”

“Brat.”

His chest widened, and he peered at me like that time when he dominated me the first time. Cruel, devious smile. “You wanted to get to know this world, then let me show you a few ways I like to play with brats like you.”

Finally! I felt shivers down my spine when he walked around me.

I turned after him.

“Nonetheless, I will start slow. You may think you could take anything, but I don’t want to risk hurting you more than necessary. Head straight.”

I looked ahead of me when I felt burning liquid on both my shoulders.

“What the fuck?!”

He poured the entire content of the candle down my back, and I screamed.

“First, watch that language.” He came back with two others and dripped wax again on my shoulders.

“Second. I told you to keep them straight, slut.” He kept pouring slowly in a thin stream. It burned. “Will you fix them, or do I need to take another candle?”

Fuck!

I straightened my back.

I felt the wax burning my forearms. I growled and put them in the position he had set before.

Fucking prick!

Thomas took the chain as a leash and pulled on it, tilting me backward until I saw his dark eyes. How hot he was right now! “Thank you, Master.”

He just smirked and slapped me. “Good boy.”

Then he kissed me and squeezed my throat.

Thomas reached up and grabbed a piece of rope from above me. He attached it to my chain and pulled on it making my head hang on it by the back of my neck and supported only by my knees and that thin chain. I felt like I was losing balance and unclasped my arms. He reached without a word for another candle and splashed my chest with its wax.

I screamed.

“Hands back.”

Fucker!!!

I did as he told me. I was lying mid-air, hung by the back of my neck, and my head dangled in front of his dick, covered in his pants. I felt the chain cut into my skin as half my body weight was on it.

I saw him upside down. He went to light a few more candles and then returned.

He slapped my face a few times and bit my jaw. Then he straightened up and reached for his zip. Finally, he pulled out his cock and put it in front of my mouth.

Thomas slapped my left pec, and I hissed. Then the right.

“Put out your tongue.”

I darted on his cock. He slapped me across my face. “I didn’t tell you to lick it, slut. Wait your turn.”

“Yes, Master.” I saw his dick twitch, and mine replied immediately to that in the same fashion. I could get used to this.

Thomas moved away and came back with a flogger. This one was shorter, and I tensed, feeling it spread on my torso.

“I must say that it’s a shame that you refuse cock cage, Matthew. I would put one now if that weren’t an issue with you.”

No way, bastard.

“Master, I need to ask you a question.”

“Ask.”

“Do you wish me to act submissive even though it is a lie I would play just to see you happy, or do you want me to be honest.”

“That’s actually a great question, Matthew. Answer it yourself. But be prepared for consequences.”

So you didn’t tell me anything. Bastard… Does he want to see me fail? Fuck! He prefers honesty yet, at the same time, an obedient slave. I cannot comply with one without violating the other. This is one of the most challenging mind games he could have picked…

Fine. You wanted chaos; you can have chaos! Let’s hope you will enjoy not knowing what to expect from me!

He whipped my chest lightly.

“Thank you, Master! Please, more!” My dick jerked, and there was no way I was ever letting him cage it! No way! Enjoy looking at it, bastard!

I saw a drop of precum on his slit. I wanted to lick it so much!

The next slash sent a stinging sensation over my body. “Thank you, Master!”

I didn’t see his face, but I could see his cock react. How fucking satisfying. I loved that whip!

“Master, please, may I lick your cock?”

Fuck! Another slash sounded in my ears, and my chest was burning now. I loved it so much!

“You may, slut.”

I launched with my tongue on it, my arms now straining from holding them like this, but I just concentrated on that leaking pole in front of me. How much I loved that taste. Thomas started whipping my chest lightly but with speed. It was so fucking satisfying at this point!

“Suck it, baby.” I felt his hands caress my chest, peeling off the wax. I drove my tongue along his shaft and sucked it in as far as possible from my position.

I licked it and kissed the bottom vein. “Please, Master, fuck my face!”

“You want me to feed you, slut?”

“Please, I need it!”

“My little hungry slut. Take it!” With that, he started ramming into my throat, feeling it with his hand on it as he was pounding in without regard for me coughing, choking, or gagging. His balls were soon hitting my face, and saliva was running down. He held me mercilessly, not stopping. I felt his hand roam my neck, chest, and stomach. I craved for him to touch my cock, but I knew better than to get my hopes up. Fuck this was intense!

My hands fell, and he pulled out before I realized what was happening. He poured so much wax all over my now sore, whipped chest that I screamed and felt as if my balls erupted, my stomach squeezed, and everything burned for a split second as I shook wildly in a shocking climax.

Thomas stood above me.

“Did you just come?”

Fuck, was I supposed to ask permission? I was pretty sure I should have.

“Yes, Master. I am sorry, it came really suddenly.”

I still felt horny as fuck, though.

Thomas grabbed my head and pulled it up so I was looking at my red chest covered in soft red flakes of wax. My dick was straining and hard. I didn’t see my cum anywhere. I looked confused at Thomas. “I didn’t shoot?”

“No.” he looked at me like I was a little wonder.

“What the fuck? I definitely came.”

“I know.” Thomas kissed me deeply. “That was so fucking hot, baby. You have no fucking idea!”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Turn.”

Thomas positioned me in a high plank, and that chain choked me. As soon as I let my arms just a little lower, I couldn’t breathe. Next, Thomas took my left ankle, raised it about a foot over the ground, and fastened it with a leather loop on a steel pole behind me. I would look at him, but I was choking at the slightest movement of my head.

When my foot was secured, he also took my right one up, spreading my legs wide. What is he doing?

My legs were spread about two or three feet wide, and I couldn’t even move cos if I did, the chain around my neck would cut off my air. My whole body was like one foot above the ground, and the only things supporting me besides those loops around my ankles were my arms in plank. I could reach the floor with my knees, but that was pulling on the rope, straining my neck. So either plank with air or rest without it…

“Now, keep that back as straight as possible.”

Not like I have another choice, bastard! When I let my shoulders down a little, I got dizzy.

“Don’t worry. I am here all the time, Matthew.”

I felt his fingers caress my butt and circle around my hole. I would enjoy that if all my concentration wasn’t focused solely on me having my arms straight, hence I could breathe freely…

“I will now whip you, slut. I hope you will remain as grateful as you were before.”

His tone was so sweet that, in contrast with what was happening, it was hard not to be mad at him. Yet, I loved it so much! The thrill I felt right now was something so primal, so animalistic. I had never experienced something like this before. I felt the lashes on my tissue and moaned as I thanked him. Fast stinging cuts made me weak, and I started coughing, pulling myself back up.

“Thank you, Master! Please, more!”

“My greedy slut. You are making me so proud!”

Fuck! And you are making me so horny right now! I will come down here as often as he’ll let me! I was officially addicted to this madness he was committing on me!

“Fuck! I need your cock! Now!”

He stopped and poured another candle down my butt and my crack. I roared.

“Be careful how you speak with me, slut!”

He went away and returned. “Since this is your first offense, I will go lightly and with something you are already familiar with, but the next time I will go all in for punishments for this kind of behavior.”

I was confused, but my need to breathe forbade me from turning to him.

“Spell for me the first and last word you said.”

Oh no…

“Master, please, I misspoke.”

Sharp-cutting pain crossed my right butt cheek, and I rasped.

“You are only prolonging it, slut. Do you remember what you said?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Now spell it!”

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!

“F,” I hissed, and my arms trembled

“U.” Of course, the same spot. How else…

“C.” For fuck’s sake, I hate this!

“K,” I just groaned.

“Good, now the last one.”

I just gave up and accepted my fate, cussing inside with each letter.

“N.”

“O.”

“W.”

“Good.” Thomas’s palm gave that place that he kept hitting a soft rub.

My arms were shaking, I breathed shallowly, and I felt like I would faint any moment.

“Thomas…”

I felt the rope loosen.

“Lay down, Matt.”

I just slammed myself on the cold concrete in beautiful agony. The relief I felt was like the soft air after the thunderstorm. Everything felt heightened in its absence. My body tingled, my arms ached, and my lungs could breathe. I don’t know if I was ever this relaxed before.

“Please, Master, fuck me.” I genuinely meant every word now as I smiled at him.

My legs were still in those loops, and my knees on the cold ground spread widely.

His hands touched my back, scratching away flakes of wax. I felt him gently rubbing my ass and then his teeth on my flesh. I moaned in pleasure as I turned to see him kneeling above me. Thomas leaned closer and kissed me.

His hand peeled away the wax, and I saw him kneeling between my legs.

I moaned as I felt his tongue on my crack and how it demanded its way inside.

I spread my legs wider. “Thank you, Master.”

His hand gently slapped my cheeks, and he went to town on my hole, making me roar and scream in pleasure.

Thomas pulled on my chain with one hand and with a second on my hips, bringing my ass up to him. His dickhead aimed at the sphincter.

“Don’t grit your teeth, Matthew. Relax into it.”

I tried my best as he was inserting himself into my body, and I couldn’t stop moaning the whole time until I felt him buried deep in me.

“That never felt this amazing.” I didn’t even realize I said it aloud until I felt him smack that part of my butt he whipped just a few minutes before. I roared in pain and squeezed him inside me.

“Master,” Thomas pointed out with a smile apparent in his voice.

I laughed wholeheartedly. I don’t even know why. Everything happening to me now was driving me into such a beautiful insanity that I felt like laughing wildly.

“Thank you, Master! Please take me.”

I nearly said make love to me… My mind was now seriously cloudy and at the absolute edge of delirium. I felt him increase the intensity of his thrusts and welcomed him with my hips thrusting back against him. I kept groaning from deep within me.

His face came closer to mine from behind, and he pulled me to him by the chain around my throat.

I turned to him as if I was drunk and smiled lovingly at him.

“I love you so much, Thomas! … Please kiss me.”

His eyes were scanning mine with such a beautiful smile. He kissed me, and I was on top of the world, reaching even higher.

His pounding got demanding and strenuous to endure. We were breathing heavily, looking into each other’s eyes.

I don’t know how long he was pounding into me then. He kept changing the depth, tempo, and vigor. At one point, he was licking my neck; at another, he was pulling my hair a smacking my ass or back. He attacked me hole one moment and was spoiling it the next. I was his baby and his hungry slut.

Everything was too much now! I couldn’t think. I have become an utter horny mess under him, moaning, thanking him, and begging him for more, pleading for his cum. It was a divine blur of joy and pain.

Thomas held me tight as I was now shaking uncontrollably. He grabbed my throat and leaned to my face from the side. “Cum for me, Matty.”

“I am close,” I whispered. Feeling my dick strain and twitch.

“Five”

I looked at him. That was fucking hot!

“Four”

“Three” I could feel his cock jerk in me.

I gazed into his eyes, absolutely devoted to him at this moment. “Cum with me, Tommy.”

He breathed in sharply, “Two!”

I grabbed his hand that held my neck as we both at the absolute edge screamed, “One!”

After that, I roared, and he moaned into my ear. Then, as if detached from my body, I felt our cocks shoot!

We froze after that and just fell, spent, on the ground, breathing heavily.

I was never in ecstasy as this one. I had never felt so full and loved. At that moment, I was like a whole other person, only floating between the hard cold ground and his warm, soft body above me and in me.

I couldn’t stop grinning and started humming in euphoria. My hums naturally took form, and I just enjoyed that flow. I felt Thomas move above me, but I clutched his arm and held it in mine so he couldn’t stand up.

“Love is a burning thing,”

My hums gradually progressed into soft singing. I didn’t care about anything right now.

“And it makes a fiery ring,”

I kept grinning more with each word, absorbed in paradise.

“Bound by wild desire,

I fell into a ring of fire.”

I felt his head rise from my back.

“I fell into a burning ring of fire

I went down-down-down, and the flames went higher

And it burns-burns-burns

The ring of fire, the ring of fire.”

I loved how I felt right then. I was absolutely free, and I relished the sound of my voice vibrating from the ground.

“The taste of love is sweet

When hearts like ours meet

I fell for you like a child

Oh, but the fire went wild”

I began to chuckle like a madman and taping our hands into my side to the rhythm.

“I fell into a burning ring of fire

I went down-down-down, and the flames went higher

And it burns-burns-burns

The ring of fire, the ring of fire

And it burns-burns-burns

The ring of fire, the ring of fire

The ring of fire, the ring of fire…”

I grabbed his second arm as well and pulled them both under me.

“Man… you are not getting rid of me. Deal with it. I am deep as fuck!” I could not stop grinning!

Thomas laid on me, completely silent, his breathing was slow, and I may be wrong as everything back then was a bit hazy, but I was sure that I felt something wet drip on my shoulder blade, and I closed my eyes in absolute bliss.

His hands left me, and Thomas raised himself up. I heard the sound of a zip, and then he untied my ankles and laid each down gently. I was slowly returning to reality, still feeling absolutely sublime.

I turned on my back, not even minding the cold ground. I looked at Thomas. He was kneeling between the poles that had held my ankles before.

We gazed at each other. I didn’t have any words, and he seemed like he did neither.

I sat up, and he just watched me. I didn’t know what to do next.

The moment went on for too long. It was killing me. I just reached for his hand and walked on my knees to him, taking his face in my palms and opening his lips with mine. He still stared silently into my eyes. I kept his gaze but kept touching his lips until he leaned closer, and we kissed properly.

“Go wash your stomach, Matt. We should talk.”

No, no, no!! For fuck sake, what is it with this man?! He got back into his rigid mask again! You idiot, how many people do you think I ever sang to?!

I nodded and kissed his cheek, standing up.

I washed myself and looked at my reflection. I felt like I was looking at a whole different person in my reflection…

When I came back, the candles were no longer burning, and Thomas wasn’t there either. I looked around and heard soft music. The door to the music room was open. I stepped in with a huge smile on my lips. I sat down next to the guitar I left there and watched him play.

---

As you may know, I have a Patreon page where this book is already available finished.

For those who are interested feel free to check it out on https://www.patreon.com/i_dusk/collections

I will try to post again soon, but life is so busy these days. Sorry for such a gap between the chapters 

Late night session at the gym. I prefer it. No one to take up the machines. I get in and hit the locker room. Two guys in the room. One’s an older but built guy and the other is a guy right outta a fucking porn. Big, military cut hair, muscled, hairless and a massive cock. “Damn…” I thought. It was as if he heard my thoughts cause he looked up at me and just stared. I looked away and got to changing. He finished first and headed out. I wasn’t far behind.

He hit the bench press, laid on his back, his shorts riding up tight forcing his dick up. He grabbed the bar flexing his big biceps and lifted. I sat on the preacher curl machine in front of him and curled slowly, focused, imagining sitting on it and riding.

He caught me again, looked at me, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He could easily crush me if he wanted.

I did my routine stealing looks when I could. He did deadlifts facing the mirror and when he bent over I couldn’t resist his tight ass. He busted me in the  reflection but kept pumping.

I finished and went back to the locker room and hit the showers and started stroking my semi. Then I heard the water come in another stall. I pull the curtain back a bit and see him getting in. 

I was jerking hard now knowing he was right there. All that hard, sweaty meat. I felt my balls tingle. Pulled the tip in short strokes causing full body shivers. Put my fingers in my ass, deep. Moaned softly, “uuuunghh…” Felt it rising from the base, pounding now, every muscle in my body tight then that sweet feeling of release. I fell back against the wall still lightly playing with  myself and watching cum drain away. Out of breath I turn the water off and towel down, step out to get changed.

He was right behind me and threw his towel on a bench, my back was to him.

“Hey.”

I ignored it.

“I said HEY!” A deep commanding voice.

I turn to face him, still kinda hard. He looked at me stone faced.

“I saw you looking at me out there.”

I stood wide eyed. No denying it.

“You a fag?”

Oh danger. I’m not one to back off a fight but he was a mountain of a man.

“Yeah you’re a fag. Fucking queer. You like it in the ass? I bet you do.”

“What do want from me?” I managed to say in a confident voice that kinda surprised me.

“What do I want? I want to teach you a lesson.”

He moved to me, stood over me and grabbed me by the neck and slammed me into the lockers. Immediately thought of high school. He put his face right to mine and I could feel his heat.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit outta you sooo hard.” He stated in a voice I’m sure he thought would scare me but just turned me on.
“You couldn’t fuck me hard enough.” I dared.

With his big hand still around my throat he moved me to the bench.

“Turn around and bend over.” He ordered and I complied.

He grabbed my left hip and positioned himself with his right. I felt him find the spot and with no warning thrust it in. God he was gonna split me in half and I was loving it. He showed no mercy and slammed away. 

“AAAAGGHHH!!” I throated.

“Shut up faggot!”

Then I thought, what if we’re get caught? Kicked out? Maybe join in? I could only hope. But it was just the two of us.

“I’m gonna fill your ass up.”

“Do it.” I demanded.

“I’m there. I’m there. FuuuUUUCCKK YEAH TAKE MY LOAD! UUUUNGGHH!!!

He pulled out and pushed me down on the bench hard.

“Don’t ever let me catch you looking at me again or you’ll get this again.”

“You say that like it’s a threat.”

“Not a threat, a promise.” He scowled.

“I don’t promise.” I smirked.

We got dressed and as he pulled his underwear up I looked. I stared. I smiled.

“Fucking fag.” He said with just a hint of a smile and walked out.

Late night sessions at the gym. I prefer it.

In This Story

• Straight Men
• Locker Room
• Gym
• Fucking
• Forced

“Jamie!” I heard my dad shouting from downstairs.

I was still in the bed. I came from college one day early and honestly wanted to stay in bed the whole day. Maybe just spray a load or two as my girlfriend stayed at the dorm.

“Jamie?” I heard a knock on the door. Dad opened them and I saw him standing there just in his black boxers. He is a good-looking guy for his age. Late forties but he’s quite packed with muscles. Width chest, big arms, and just a slight definition of belly. Plus he is quite hairy and tall. All of my girls always described him as a “hot daddy” and to be honest, I got them.

“Morning sleepyhead, you willing to get up at all today?” My dad asked

“Well, not at all,” I said frankly.

He laughed. “Got you buddy, but you’ll probably have to, there’s a repairman on the way, the washer got broken. And I’m leaving for work soon.”

Fuck, I thought. “OK then. When is he coming?”

“In about twenty minutes. And it should be Mr. Walker.”

Mr. Walker was someone like our “family repairman”. He was a cool sixty-something-year-old guy. I always liked him.

“Ok, Dad. I’ll be downstairs soon.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

I got off the bed and took a quick shower. Put me into some sweatpants and an old T-shirt. 
Then I came down to the kitchen and got some cereals for a quick breakfast. My dad was already dressed in his suit. Then we heard a car on our driveway. We together looked out of the window and saw a repairman company car, but there wasn’t Mr. Walker getting out of the car. Instead of him, I could see a young guy, probably 2 or 3 years older than me. Dark-haired and bearded, on the shorter side but muscular as fuck. His chest was impressive even from far away. He got to the back of the truck, probably to take his tools.

“Interesting, so no Mr. Walker today, huh,” I said to my dad.

“Fuck” I heard my dad say.

“What?”

“I spilled a coffee on my shirt. Got to change. Will you please let the guy in? Thanks” said Dad quickly and went for his room.

Funny, I thought. I have not seen any coffee stains on his shirt. Then the doorbell rang. I opened the door and was greeted by a deep baritone voice.

“Hello, Mr. Longhorn?”

“Hah, not really, that would be my dad,” I said and reached my hand to the guy. “I’m Jaime.”

“Tim, nice to meet you,” said the repair man. His physics was really impressive. He filled his dark green uniform really nicely. I have to start taking the gym more seriously, Jaime thought. 

“I’m instead of for Mr. Walker. He’s on vacation this week,” said Tim.

“That’s a pity, but it’s good to see some new blood” sounded my dad’s burly voice through the hallway.

I turned around and saw him just in his suit pants. His muscular hairy torso was naked. He looked big as fuck.

“Nice to meet you, Tim, I’m Mr. Longhorn, but you can call me Calvin,” said my dad and shook his hand. A bit longer that was maybe appropriate.

“Hello, Mr. Long… I mean Calvin” corrected Tim himself.

“That’s a good lad,” said my dad and pointed to the laundry room. “Shall we start with the repair? I’ll show you the way”

“I thought you got to go to work, Dad?” I asked a bit stupidly.

“Well, I can be a bit late, especially when I have to welcome Tim here properly,” said my dad and winked at Tim.

Tim knowingly smiled. Jaime had a feeling he even flexed his arms.

“Will there also be any drilling Calvin?” asked Tim with an innuendo.

My dad breathed heavily. 

“You can’t imagine how much drilling will be there Tim” my dad almost growled.

“Good, show me the way”.

“Just a sec” my dad turned to me. “Jaime, feel free to go back to bed. I’ll take care of Tim here. And maybe put some music on. The drilling might be a loud one.”

“Ok Dad,” I said and went upstairs as Dad led Tim to the laundry room. For a moment I thought, that he caressed Tim’s muscle butt, but that was probably just an early morning lack of concentration. I got back to my bed but still was a bit curious about what was going on. Why do they need a driller to repair a washer? And the most funny thing, Tim didn’t have any driller with him. So maybe he’s going to use my dad’s driller I thought. Yeah, that might be possible. I put on my headphones and lay back to bed.

I woke up in what felt like hours and checked my phone and only forty minutes passed since I came back to bed. I put down my earphones and decided to check on my dad and Tim.
As I got closer to the laundry room I could hear a rhythmic bumping. Maybe they finally fixed the washer. When I got there, the doors were closed. I tried to open them, but they were locked. I pressed my ear to the hardwood and could hear muffled voices. Then my dad partly opened the door. 

“Hi, buddy. What’s up?” he asked short of breath.

He was all sweaty and heaving. His chest hair glistened and veins popped up on his arms. His face was flushed and his lips were swollen.

“You alright dad? Everything ok? I asked him

“Yeah buddy, we’re actually finishing up. It’s just really hot here. Could you just bring some water bottles from the garage fridge? Thanks,” and just like that he shut the door.

I had a feeling that I heard some moaning, but that was probably just Tim trying to fix the machine. So I went to the garage. I returned in like five minutes just to find Tim and Dad back in the hallway. Tim’s hair was a real mess, his face was all red and there were huge sweat spots under his armpits. And also the chest area of his dark green shirt looked funny like it was sprayed by something. Plus he reeked, like a college guy’s room. 

“See you tomorrow Tim,” said my dad with still sweaty torso.

“Tomorrow?” I asked surprised.

“Yes, we tried to fix the washer, but we’re missing one component, so Tim will buy it and he’ll stop by,” said Dad with a smile.

“Damn, that sucks,” I told the guys.

“Yeah, it does buddy,” agreed my dad.

“Alright, thank you, Calvin,” Tim said and opened the door. Just then Jaime noticed some liquid in his beard. Like oil or something. “See you tomorrow. Bye, Jamie.”

“Bye Tim.”

Tim got back to his truck and left their driveway.

“Ok buddy, going to hit the shower, I got all sweaty,” my dad said and headed to shower.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Have you also used the driller?”

“Oh, believe me, buddy, we did. I drilled so hard and came to solving the problem, but that one missing component ruined it.”

“Got you, Dad.”

[This story was written for a writing exercise limiting the text to exactly 750 words.]

Toshio, my Tokyo artist teacher, checked into Hokkaido’s Myoko Hot Springs Spa as a gnarly old Japanese man in a black silk kimono, which barely covered the necessities, brushed by me. He lingered, touching my hip with long, slender fingers and then my nipple, pulling gently through the gauzy material of my polo shirt on the ring I had pierced there.

“Atode fac you,” I heard him murmur as he passed.

“What? Who was that?” I asked. “What did he say?”

“That’s General Kohei Oshiba,” the desk clerk said, his eyes lowered, showing a look of embarrassment.

“He said he’d fuck you later, Dan,” Toshio said, with a laugh. “Guess he thinks he can be forward with a young blond coming to the spa with an old man like me. Fat chance, though, I can get you in bed but you won’t let me fuck you.” He stopped there, but, giving me a smile, he added, “Yet.”

I had suspected he’d brought me to this spa to remedy that. I would let him—eventually. But I was in no rush.

The clerk’s eyes were still downcast as we went to our room, the rooms being separate wooden units topped with thatched roofs, positioned haphazardly around stone pathways, with small terraces here and there, and it all following a meandering steaming waterway bordered by lush foliage. Each unit, a wooden tatami matting-covered platform, walled by sliding rice-paper-covered screens, was positioned for privacy.

There was no privacy from sound, though. I saw the general guiding a young Japanese man in a loose kimono into the adjacent room as we returned from dinner. It wasn’t long before I heard the sounds of vigorous sex. The youth was moaning, groaning deeply, whimpering, and being very vocal.

“Onegai, onegai, yukkuri. Anata wa totemo okii desu. Anata wa totemo nagamochi shi masu. Onegai, onegai, shi masu,” I heard the young man cry out.

“What was that? What did he say?” I asked Toshio. “Such a plaintive cry.”

“Apparently the old man has a really big one and can use it vigorously and at great length,” Toshio answered. “But come, come to the bed with me. Perhaps . . .”

I entered his bed, but though we embraced and I let him fondle me—and I stroked him to completion—I did not let him fuck me.

In the night, the sighing of the wind through the bamboo stalks along the wandering waterway woke me. I rose, naked, disconcerted by dreams. I shrugged on a white silk kimono and went out to follow the stream in melancholy.

I came to a man in just a fundoshi—loincloth—arranging oils next to a massage table. He smiled and gestured toward the table. I was tense from dreaming of the general covering the youth in the next room, so, thankfully, I disrobed and mounted the table and lay on my stomach. The man’s hands were magic. I was barely awake when he became intimate. I was in heat enough to let him massage my buttocks and touch my hole. I moaned as he rubbed his fingers across my hole and gasped as he entered me with his fingers. I whimpered and moaned, opening to the fingers, which became something colder and thicker. I turned to see he held a jade dildo.

“Hai?—Yes?” he asked.

“Hai,” I whispered, in heat.

The dildo spread me open. I felt it withdraw and a slight weight coming onto my back, hovering over me, gnarled hands on sinewy arms stiffed armed by my shoulders, knobby knees hugging my hips. I turned and looked. The masseur was gone. The general was on top of me. Looking down the length of his gaunt, hard, wound-scared torso, I saw the longest cock I’d ever seen, in angry erection.

I moaned, “Please. Wait,” and then cried out, as he dipped his pelvis, attained penetrating position, and entered, entered, entered me. I writhed under him as he slid up into the core of me—conquering, slaying me. He came quickly at first in a long flow, but turned me on my back, held me captive, and, taking the ring in my nipple in his mouth and giving suck, fucked me and fucked me as, spreading my legs wide, I surrendered to his deep penetration and interminable flow.

Toshiro was asleep when, purring, I hobbled to the room. He no longer was asleep when I saddled on his loins, descended on his cock, and rode him into the dawn.

Am I the asshole?

First, let me tell you how the situation began.  While I don’t broadcast my sexuality at the office, most people are aware, and I’m sure that most of the other employees knew that my boyfriend of 3 years got a job in another city and left without looking back.  His departure took me by surprise, and the speech he gave me made me realize that we had just been buddies to him.  I was pissed and angry, and I was still vowing never to date again when Howard showed up at my desk on the Thursday before a four-day weekend.

He was desperate, he told me.  “My date for my sister’s wedding canceled on me.  I can’t show up alone.  Go with me, please.”

I’m sure the look on my face told him that I wasn’t interested in that, but he was persistent.  “Come on, please.  You just have to sit there and have a nice meal and smile at my family.  We’ll stay in the same bed, but no funny business.  I promise.  Unless,” he raised his eyebrows, “you want some funny business.  I’m even willing to do some anal if you’ll help me out.”

That offer sounded more like a business transaction between a john and a whore.  Honestly, Howard was not a guy I was attracted to; however, it’d been several weeks, and I was feeling hornier and hornier from time to time.  I decided to say yes, but it wasn’t for the promise of sex.  I knew that my weekend was just going to be sitting around my apartment.  “OK,” I told him, “but you don’t have to bottom for me.”

“Well, OK.”  He sounded disappointed.  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8:30.  Email me your address.  We’ll stay with my parents on Friday night, and Saturday night.  We can stay Sunday, too, if you want.  There’s a bachelor lunch on Friday and sort of a dinner on Friday night.  Nothing fancy, just a nice shirt and tie.  I wasn’t going to wear a jacket.”  He sauntered off to his cubby a lot happier than I was.

Meeting a guy’s parents and faking being his boyfriend wasn’t in my repertoire.  

With my suitcase in the back, and my ass in the passenger seat, I spent two hours bullshitting about work and getting filled in on some details to make the boyfriend thing look good.  The time seemed to go by more quickly than I had expected and before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of a long metal building with the name Gathering Shepherds Church over a set of glass double doors.  I looked over at Howard.

“This is where the bachelor’s party is being held?” I asked.

“Susan doesn’t want any strippers at Randy’s party.”

I laughed.  “Well, neither do I, but really.”

“Hey, it’s a last minute wedding.  I think she told me that they were ordering pizza and playing a Hallmark movie.”

I got out of the car and stretched.  I ran my hand over my legs and felt the condoms that I had put in the front pocket in case things with Howard went better than I originally expected.  My other pocket had little packs of lube in it.  I should have left them at home, I told myself.

We walked into the building, and I immediately noted two hallways.  “Which way?” I asked.

“That way goes to the chapel, and straight goes to the study rooms and where we’ll be having the party.”  Harold smiled.

Did he know what I was thinking?  Pizza and a movie.  Was this Randy guy ten years old?  We passed by several rooms with the lights off.  Some of the doors were open, but overall, the place was deserted.  Sound came from a lighted doorway about thirty feet in front of us.  I was aware of several men talking.  Two of them were walking toward the doorway as we entered the room.  They looked at us as though we were dog shit on the bottom of their shoes.  Harold said nothing to them.  The other two, dressed in loose running shorts, turned to look at us.

“Danny, this is my brother Randy and Beau is his best man.”

Randy gave him a hug and Beau, who was carrying a box, nodded at him.  I’m sure both of them said, “Nice to meet you” to me, but  I’m not positive.  Beau lived up to his name.  Handsome.  Muscular.  Perfect.  I tried not to look like I was staring, but I’m sure I was.  At one point, he looked over at me and turned red.

“Where are the two stooges going?” asked Harold.

“To get the pizza; they don’t deliver here,” said Beau.  Anyway, I’ve got to move these boxes before we start.”

“I’ll help,” I offered as I moved next to him and picked up a box.

“Thanks, Danny,” he said.  His voice was like silk against my skin.  He could have ordered me to do anything.  

I followed him out the room, down the hall and into a room with an old couch and oversized coffee table.  He put the box next to the couch, and I placed mine on top of his.  I pressed against him.  “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met,” I said.

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

“Are you taken?” I asked.  Then immediately added, “It doesn’t matter.”  I kissed him.

He kissed back.

My hand reached down and pressed against his crotch.  He was already half hard.   He shoved his tongue into my mouth, and I gripped it with my lips.  I flicked the tip of his tongue with mine until he pulled back to take a breath.

“Fuck,” I said breathlessly.  “I think I’m in love.”

Beau smiled, and I wrapped my arms around him and slid one hand down behind the waistband of his pants.  I grasped his butt cheek, and he responded by pushing his hardness against my thigh.  I grabbed his other cheek and lifted him enough to place him on the couch.  He tried to keep kissing me, but I pushed him back.  I pulled his shorts to his knees to expose his ass.  

“Beautiful,” I exclaimed.  I wet my thumb with saliva and rubbed it against his hole while I pushed on one of his ankles to help give me a better view.  He moaned as I pushed my thumb into him.  “I need to fuck you,” I said as I pulled a condom from my pocket.  “You want me to, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he muttered.

I’ve never pushed my pants down that quickly.  The condom covered my shaft in an instant, and I pulled the small packet of lube from the other pocket and squeezed it onto his tight pucker.  His hole was tight as I pushed into it; the grip on my dick felt fantastic.  Beau’s initial moan of discomfort was replaced by little gasps of pleasure.  Soon, he was urging me to fuck him a little faster and with a little more force.

I withheld pounding him as I didn’t want him to make too much noise, and as it was, we both were enjoying the rhythm and sensations of the fuck.  But as with all good things, I soon got close and although I tried to make it last, I was forced to push my dick as far into him as I could and fill the condom with sperm.  He gasped with each pulse of my cock.

Beau began to jerk his dick; I pushed his hand away and slowly ran my thumb up the bottom of his shaft.  I wanted to suck him off; I wanted to feel him explode into my mouth.  I was about to drop to my knees when the door pushed open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” demanded Harold.

Beau pushed his head up and dropped his legs forward.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I asked.  Such an idiotic question, I thought.

“You’re fucking my brother-in-law.”  Harold said it in a way that it almost sounded like another question with a bit of shock in his voice.  Then he turned to the man who was struggling to get to his feet and pull his pants up over a raging hardon.  “What the hell, Randy?”

“You’re not Beau?”  I could barely get the words out.

Randy continued to adjust his dick but said nothing.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” said Harold.

“My mistake,” I said to Randy.  “I thought you were Beau.”

Randy looked up at me and smiled.  “It’s OK.”

Harold threw his arms out.  “It’s not OK.  You’re supposed to marry my sister tomorrow, and you were fucking my date.  You can’t marry her now.”

“Why?” asked Randy.  “It was just a fuck.  I’m going to marry Susan.  She’s having my kid.”

I was still standing there with my pants at my ankles.  The condom had started to slide from my now softened penis, and I pulled it the rest of the way off and knotted it.  I tried to act as if I had not just been discovered fucking the groom the day before the wedding.

Randy walked out of the room.

Harold glared at me.

“I thought he was Beau,” I said again.

“And you fucked him in a church,” growled Harold, adding, “you’re an asshole,” before turning and walking out of the room.

Harold glared at me for the rest of the weekend.  Randy introduced me as one of his friends.  Harold didn’t speak to me after that.

 I never saw Randy after that, and I heard that he and Susan celebrated their fifth anniversary with three children and one on the way.

Was I the asshole?

Fellow Travelers

Pete Cabrera loved the way the hot water felt on his body after an intense work out. He was in better shape than most sixty-year-old men, but his muscles did not respond the way they did when he was in his prime. Cabrera stepped out of the gym shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

“Hey Coach”

Cabrera greeted Steve Diaz who had graduated the previous year.

“How is it going Steve”?

“Doing great coach.”

“How is college treating you?”

“I got to thank you again for helping get in.”

“You’re welcome but I knew you could do it.”

Cabrera was pleased when he ran into the young men, he had guide during their highs school years. Cabrera had been more than coach to them. He had been a father figure for those who lacked a good male role model in their lives. Cabrera never had children of his own, but he felt these students were like his sons.

“See you around Coach” Diaz said.

“Take care Steve.”

Cabrera got dressed and headed for his favorite sport bar. He was watching a football game on TV when he heard a female voice call his name.

“Hello Peter” Nancy an attractive middle-aged woman walked up to his side.

“Nancy nice to see you.”

Pete kissed Nancy on the cheek.

“Can I join you?”

“Be my guest.”

“You’re looking good” Nancy touched Cabrera’s biceps.

” Thanks so do you”

Nancy and Cabrera had gone to the same high school. They had dated but their romance had ended after graduation

“How are you doing”? Nancy asked.

“Still working”

“Really”

“Yes, I like to stay busy I don ‘t think retirement is for me “

““Why didn’t you go to our last reunion?”’

“I forgot all about it “

“Aren’t you in my face book group.”

“I think so but I ‘m not a social media type of guy.”

“Well, I love it have Instagram “

Nancy showed Cabrera photos on her phone.

“That’s from the reunion?”

“You should have been there I saw your old teammate.”

“Which one? “

“Jim what’s his name?”

“Plawecki?”

“Yes, that one”

Nancy showed a picture of her standing next to a good-looking middle-aged man he recognized as Jim Plawecki, who looked older but still in shape.

“He got divorced last year.”

Cabrera was surprised by the news.

“I though Jim had moved to another state.”

“Jim moved back.”

“I need to give him a call,”

“Let me give you his number I’m sure he will love to talk with you”

Nancy gave Cabrera the contact imformation

“Maybe Jim will talk you into going to our next get together”

” Sure that would be fun”

“l I have to run Peter it was nice to see you.”

“Same here ”

Cabrera waved at Nancy as she walked out of the bar. He looked down at his phone and notice he had a message from Kurt. He clicked on the image and saw a picture of Kurt and Tony with their arms around each other in hiking trail.

“Nice view” Cabrera texted back.

Kurt and Tony had been spending time together since they had reconnected after their three-way with the coach. Cabrera was happy for them, but he did miss Kurt. He started thinking about Plawecki again and how good he had looked in his tight baseball uniform.

“That was a great game bro,” Plawecki said as he stripped off his sweating uniform.

Your hit saved my ass” Cabrera had stripped down to his jock strap.

The two nineteen-year-old jocks were standing next to each other in the crowded locker room.

“You got any plans for later “

“No, we can hang out if you want to.”

“Sure thing” Cabrera watched as the bare ass Plawecki strutted to the showers.

They ate hamburgers at a diner and then walked home.

“That’s going to be our last game as teammates.”

“Let’s make sure we come out winners!’

“I got faith on your arm” Plawecki rubbed Cabrera’s shoulder.

“Yeah, by this time next year we’ll be in different schools.”

“True that but we are always going to stay friends.”

“You better believe it.”

Plawecki and Cabrera hugged each other.

“I got to tell you something Pete.”

“What is it Jimbo?”

“I love you” Plawecki kiss Cabrera on the lips.

Cabrera snapped out of his dream. He had been watching “Fellow Travelers” a series about two gay men who had met in 1950s. It had affected him in a way no other show had before. The realistic love scenes made him think about Jim and their college encounter which had not led to a lifelong romance like Hawk and Tim on the show.

“Jimbo if only we had met now” Cabrera looked at photo in his high school yearbook. Jim and him standing next to their baseball team coach Mr. Bomer. That coach had really been like a father figure to both. Cabrera opened his laptop and googled Jim Plawecki

“He does not look bad “Cabrera thought looking at the photos of his high school friend. He found Plawecki’s number and gave him a call. They met for lunch and ended up in Cabrera’s home.drinking beer and catching up on their lives.

“Do you understand women?’’

“Not really “

“May be thats why we got divorced.

They were sitting on the couch in the living room both men casually dressed in polo shirts and shorts.

“Guys understand each other better “Jim said.

“Maybe we should have married each other”

Jim laughed.

“Actually, my cousin Alex married his boyfriend.”

“Did you go to wedding?” Cabrera asked

“Yes, it was kind of different.”

“You want another beer.”

Plawecki nodded.

“Have you been dating?” Cabrera handed his friend a beer.

“No, how about you

“Sort of “

“What do you mean by that ?“

“Well, I have been seeing somebody.”

“Is she young and sexy?” Jim winked.

“Kind of” Cabrera thought of how good Miller looked naked

“What’s her name? “

“His name is Kurt “

Jim did a double take.

“Pete, are you pulling my leg?”

“No Jim I’m dating a young guy name Kurt Miller.”

“Are you telling me you’ve gone gay?”

“Yes”

“But you were married to a woman?”

“Maybe I was always gay had not explored that part of me “

“Well buddy I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks”

“I mean I got no issues with gays but it not my thing.”

“Are you sure about that Jim? “

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that time I visited you at college when we hooked up?”

Jim had a vague memory of the incident. They had gotten drunk and ended up jerking each other off.

“Come on Jim we were horny and drunk.”

“We are kind of drunk now.”

Cabrera stroked Plawecki’s thigh.

“Pete I’m not- “

“Horny? “

Peter felt the Jim’s bulge.

“This is crazy”

“Is it Jimbo?”

Pete unbuttoned Jim’s short releasing his friend’s hard eight in cock.

“You hand feels good.”

Peter stroked Jim’s cock.

“If you tell anyone-

“This is about us”

Peter started to lick the head of Jim’s cock.

“Suck it man.”

Pete swallowed the hard shaft.

“Oh man” Jim moaned.

Pete kept on sucking his friend’s cock.

“Pete your so fucking good “

Cabrera squeezed Jim’s balls.

“Shit”

Cabrera released Jim’s cock and stood up.

“You like that, Jimbo?”

“Yes”

Cabrera pulled out his hard cock and waved in front of Plawecki’s face.

“You ever suck a man’s cock Jimbo?” Cabrera said in his deep commanding coach voice.

“You sound just like old man Bomer” Jim said referring to their high school coach.

“Do what I tell you Jimbo!”

Jim stared at Cabrera’s thick hard cock.

“Put it in your mouth “Cabrera said.

Jim looked up at his friend.

“What are you waiting for Plawecki? “

Jim leaned in and took the hard shaft in his mouth.

“Good boy” Cabrera said.

Cabrera started to fuck the straight man’s mouth with is cock.

“You like that, Jimbo!’’

Cabrera was loving the feel of Jim’s lips on his shaft.

“You are a good cock sucker “

Cabrera pulls out his cock dripping with Jim’s saliva.

“You want it don’t you? “Cabrera looked into Jim’s eyes. He recognized the expression. Cabrera had seen in it young athletes he had trained over the years. The need to please the Coach. The desire to push their bodies to the limit. He wondered how far he could push Jim.

“Yes” Jim licked his lips.

“Show me your ass” Cabrera commanded.

Jim pulled off his shorts and turned over.

“Nice “Cabrera smacked the straight man’s ass.

“More please”

Cabrera leaned in spreading the Jim’s butt cheeks with his rough hands.

“Hmmm”

Cabrera started to rim his straight friend.

“Oh shit!” Jim had never felt a man’s tongue in his ass. The sensation was driving him mad with lust.

“You want me to fuck you? Cabrera asked looking into Jim’s eyes.

“Yes “

“Yes what?”

“I want you to fuck me coach” Jim pleaded as deep fantasy unlocked. Cabrera had been right his old teammate had lusted after Coach Bomer.

“Can you take my cock?” Cabrera spit on his hard dick

“Yes coach “

Cabrera lubricated Jim’s tight hole.

“Ready Jimbo”

“Fuck me coach”

Cabrera penetrated Jim’s ass.

“OH, shit coach.!”

“Relax Jimbo”

Cabrera went in slow letting Jim’ adjust to thickness of his cock.

“Yeah coach”

Cabrera pumped his dick faster into Jim’s ass who held on to the edge of the couch.

“More coach more”

Cabrera showed no mercy. It was brutal fuck of dominance over another man.

“Breed me coach”

Cabrera could feel his orgasms as he drops a thick load into Jim’s ass.

“Thank you, coach.”

“You’re a good boy Jimbo”

Cabrera pulled up Jim and kissed him on the mouth.

“Where can this guy be? “Kurt Miller thought as he waited for Tony to pick him up. They had planned to get together that afternoon, but it was almost six and he had not heard from his lover. He heard his phone signaling an incoming message.

“About time” Miller thought as he looked at the screen, but the message was from Coach Cabrera

“Hope you are having fun” Miller read the text from the coach he had sent a file marked private.

Miller clicked on the image and was surprised by what he saw.

Cabrera lying in bed next to a naked man whose ass he had clearly just fucked.

“I wonder who that is,? “Miller thought.

Cabrera stroked Plawecki’s smooth chest. The two men had ended up in the bedroom after their sexual encounter. .

“You OK Jimbo?” Cabrera asked.

“Sure Coach” Jim winked

“Got a bit rough with you.”

“I can handled it” Jim got out of bed and reached for his clothes.

“Might have to start calling you Skippy.”

“Who is that?”

“A character on Fellow Travelers”

“I heard about that show.”

“Did you now? ” Cabrera was surprised Jim was familiar with the series,

“It’s a gay love story”

“Yes we can watch it later.”

“Sounds good”

“I thought you were leaving.?”

“You want me to?”

“Not now” Cabrera hugged Jim.

“Are we fellow travelers now “

“You better believe it Jimbo”

Cabrera was surprised about how much his life had changed after his encounter with Miller. He thought how he had been like Hawk and Tim who had kept their love secret. But he felt different now and was willing to take the next step and hoped that Jim would be there at his side; but only time would tell.

I pulled up to the apartment complex called 300 Lime around 8:30 pm. I parked the car outside and took a few deep breaths. Ethan, the guy I’d been snapping all day had told me to go to the call box and enter “282” and he’d buzz me up to his room. I’d be fucking my first bottom tonight I told myself. I was aroused from his description online. He was a 24-year-old twink from Thailand, lived alone, and preferred to get fucked bareback. The only stipulation was that I didn’t touch his hair, which gave me the impression that he was a pretty boy.

I got out of my girlfriend’s car and entered the building. The call box had a camera on it which meant that when I rang Ethan, he’d get a full view of my face and my anonymity would be broken. Well, I made it this far, I thought, and I dialed “282” on the call box, my heart pounding with anticipation. After a few rings, a male voice said hello, I stated who I was, and the door unlatched. I found the elevator and headed up to the second floor.

I knocked as soon as I arrived and once the door opened, Ethan, the petite asian twink wearing nothing but black Calvin Klein briefs, welcomed me in. He guided me to his bedroom which was lit by the light in the hallway where I undressed, revealing my toned body and 7 inch circumcised cock. He asked me to lay down on my back in his queen-sized bed. The room was dark but lit by the light from his living room. He slid his underwear down in front of me revealing his smooth tan ass and asked if I’d like to eat him out, to which I replied with “Yes, please.” 

He swung his legs over my body with his ass exposed to my waiting mouth, and I spread his perfect butt cheeks, taking a huge whiff of his smooth boy pussy. I rubbed my face into his crease, pressed my wet tongue all around his waiting hole, and I entered him. He let out a moan, arched his back and moved his hands to my cock and balls. I asked if he liked getting his ass smacked and he said “of course!” I smacked his ass and he let out a loud moan. He asked if he could suck my cock and I obliged. He took my semi hard cock into his mouth. I moaned with pleasure and worked my tongue fervently in and out of his hole and then made my way up and down his smooth taint, flicking his tight brown ball sack with my tongue and smacking his ass as I went. He started to grind his ass into my face, and I kept his cheeks spread as wide as I could. He was starting to loosen up and my 7-inch cock was now fully erect.

Ethan let go of my cock and asked if I was ready to fuck him. I said yes, and we into position next to his bed. He knelt down on the floor facing a large mirror and spread his cheeks for me on the carpet for me. I knelt down behind him and rubbed my cock up against his waiting hole. He grabbed a bottle of lube off the nightstand and applied a generous amount to my cock. I felt massive in his hands. He gave me the lube and I squeezed some on his hole and pushed it in with my thumb. He was already loose, and he told me he had warmed up with a toy before I had arrived.

I then pressed my cock against his puckered hole and told him to push back when he was ready. We held there for a few seconds. I felt his asshole ring begin to expand and I pushed deeper. He let out a moan. I massaged his hips, making my way up his back and resting my hands in between his shoulders and neck and held him there firmly. We began to rock back and forth as he took my cock deeper into his guts. His ass felt like it was vacuuming around my cock causing it to swell thicker than its normal size. I was in heaven watching my slick shaft shimmer in and out of E’s hole. Our moans began to mix and he started saying “fuck, yes daddy, you like pounding my ass?” All I could say in response was “fuck yeah, you’re awesome!” and “oh my god, wow, you feel so good around my cock.” 

“Will you push it all the way inside of me?” Ethan asked. “I think you’ve loosened me enough.”

“If that’s what you want,” I said. I grabbed both his arms and held them behind his back and pushed my cock into him until my pubes were touching his asscheeks. I began making circles with my hips as I held it there. “Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes!” he exclaimed. “Are you sure you never fucked a guy before?” 

“Never,” I said. “but this a great first time. You’re so hot.” 

“How do you know how to make it feel so good then?” he asked, and I said, “I treat your hole like my girlfriend’s pussy is all,” and I continued sliding in and out of him while circling with my hips, trying to hit his p-spot with the tip of my cock. We changed positions and eventually moved to the bed where he asked to be fucked in missionary where he could feel more feminine. I obliged, and was able to slide deeper into him from that position, with his ass hanging off the mattress and his bare feet pressed against my chest. 

We were both sweaty and shimmering in the light from the living room when he finally blew his load all over his chest and belly. He closed his eyes and let out a long moan and said “fuck yeeeees.” I took my cock out of him, knelt down and slowly erupted all over where he had just came, our fluids mixing in the bed of his belly. I was still hard so I rubbed our ejaculate together and slide back into his wet hole for one last thrust and came once more. We both moaned loudly and held this position, me inside his bowels and his legs wrapped around my body. I finally took my cock out with a plop and I left him there on the bed, got dressed and asked him if I could use his bathroom and he obliged. I peed, washed my hands, returned to his bedroom and we chatted a little about the experience. I thanked him and he walked me to his door, filled with my cum, both of us smiling and said our goodbyes. 

Chapter 31

A Year in Passing

It was a high speed summer. Many weekends I spent with Harry flying around Florida. In Pensacola, Harry let me land the plane. He’d talked me through a dozen of his landings and he talked me through my first landing. I memorized the sequence of events by that time. Landing was a matter of him telling me the steps as each step became necessary. It was one of the most exhilarating events of the summer. I was too busy to worry and we were on the ground before I had time to think about anything but controlling the plane.

Once I taxied to the spot we were instructed to use, Harry unfastened his belts, reaching for his briefcase in the backseat.

“Nothing to it. You’re smooth, Clayton. Very smooth.”

As casually as he said it, I may have just parked his car.

Harry let me take off from behind his house a couple of times. Over the summer I became a pilot.

Like when I became a marine biologist, I could do the job a long time before it became official. That happened once I took the test.

There was a school in Ft. Lauderdale Harry would enroll me in after the election but before he was sworn in as a senator. Once he was a senator, when we flew somewhere together, he wanted me to fly the plane while he slept. It seemed fair. He flew from Washington to pick me up. Then it was on to our destination.

Like SCUBA diving, flying excited me. Piloting Harry gave me an entirely new range of responsibilities. I was proficient on land, on the sea, and in the air. I wondered what it took to be an astronaut?

*****

The first time I saw Ivan, he flew. Now I could fly too, but I needed a plane. I didn’t take the controls with Ivan and Dylan in the plane. It was too much responsibility for Harry to risk it.

I needed to be a legal pilot before I said, ‘I’m a pilot.’

*****

1980 was an incredible year of change in my life. I left my childhood behind in 1980. I grew into my role as a marine biologist who spoke for the sea. I grew comfortable in my love for Ivan. I watched as my son grew into a young man who had his own future.

Little did I know that Ivan had seen something in Dylan I hadn’t recognized. Any time there was a change I didn’t understand, resistance was my reaction. I didn’t want Dylan hurt. I didn’t want my son disappointed before he understood how talented he was.

Ivan wanted Dylan to learn to fly.

Dylan took a roll of 35mm film each week in 1980. No matter where I was or what I was doing, having him pop up to capture an instant in my son’s life became typical. I couldn’t imagine him putting down that camera for anyone, but he did. He lost interest in the Nikkon that was like an appendage for the first half of 1980.

On Dylan’s eleventh birthday, the second birthday in a row Ivan shared with his son, the square box Ivan put in front of him at the breakfast table was too small to hold Dylan’s future.

It turned out to be just the right size and it would connect Dylan’s future to his daddy’s future but it was a box at the end of July in 1980, eleven years to the day that man first walked on the moon.

“What is it, Daddy-O?” Dylan asked.

“Open it and you’ll see,” Ivan said.

Dylan went to work cutting open the box. He reached in and took out an 8mm camera.

“Moving pictures,” Dylan said with a touch of wonder in his voice. He examined it from every angle.

“Wow!”

Dylan carefully put the camera back in the box and he leaped into Ivan’s arms. My son was giddy with delight.

“I love it, Daddy-O.”

Ivan had never given Dylan anything that wasn’t an instant hit.

I bought my son a charcoal gray suit for when we went with Harry and a leather bound collection by Elizabeth Bronte and one by Jane Austin. He’d read most of those books but reading books a second or third time was Dylan’s way of absorbing what was on the writer’s mind and what they most wanted the reader to know.

No one gave Dylan a toy or a game. I wouldn’t dare give my son a game. He wasn’t a kid and by eleven no one thought he was. We challenged his brain and we sought to expand his ability to think critically and not simply let teachers tell him what to think.

I remembered the greatest thing I’d ever heard a teacher say. I mentioned I would tell Dylan not to bring the books Lucy left lying around to school.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to do anything to discourage him. If I had thirty kids like Dylan, I could stay home. That day he was reading Tolstoy.”

If Ivan ever failed to give Dylan the perfect gift, Lucy gave him the greatest gift possible. Lucy taught Dylan to love literature.

While I was reading The Cat in the Hat to him, Lucy was reading Jane Austin to him.

I didn’t see that Dylan was already planning his future. Daddy-O, Harry, my sister could see what Dylan was becoming.

His daddy was still busy watching his little boy.

Change was never my long suit. Taking a shot wasn’t my style. I learned slowly. I wanted to know everything about what I learned.

I was more the guy who woke up one day and said, “Oh, this is what that was all about. That’s cool.”

When Dylan brought the new camera on Sea Lab instead of the Nikkon, I worried he’d get it wet and he might ruin it.

I worried a lot.

By the time I was thirty, everyone knew my worry was about caring and they didn’t mind I cared so much. They overlooked that I worried about the little stuff.

I did know to stand back and let Dylan be Dylan. I learned from my son in that way. I learned a lot in 1980. It was a great year for me because everything turned out fine almost to the end.

Dylan didn’t say, lights, camera, action, but he said, ‘Smile, Daddy,’ which meant the camera was rolling.

I took care of the 35mm film. I developed it and I bought the film. 8 milometer was out of my bailiwick and Ivan took care of anything to do with moving pictures. Dylan loved filming at the cove and we frequently had movie night with the popcorn popper popping.

At first Dylan knew what he wanted to get on film but it was shaky and the composition of his filming suffered. He gave the viewer an idea of what he was trying to shoot but centering it and holding it still was another story.

Taking still pictures, when you moved the camera as you clicked, might blur the picture somewhat but you knew what was being photographed.

Moving pictures didn’t like moving photographers. It took skill to compose the scene you wanted and get it on film.

With a boat rolling on the waves, you could increase the degree of difficulty by several notches. it was impossible to hold a camera still and capture the action on deck. Once we stopped and were ready to go diving, Dylan got candid shots that were pretty good.

Being on the boat in motion, Dylan got excellent pictures of things on either side or at the bow or the stern. After watching some of the wavy pictures, Dylan began experimenting with different ways of bracing himself while holding the camera.

He found out that if he could keep himself still, become like part of the boat, the film he took looked better. His composition improved but the quality of the camera was such that the slightest motion caused someone watching to wonder what they were watching. It also gave them a crash course in the feelings that come with sea sickness.

When Dylan filmed around the cove and at the house, his shakiness disappeared once he became aware of how important it was to keep the movie camera perfectly still. He accomplished it as long as the land didn’t move.

My fear that Dylan’s disappointment might sour him on photography was unfounded. Each time he watched film he took, he learned from it. He wasn’t discouraged, he became more inventive. By working through what he did wrong, he corrected it.

*****

During the summer, I tried to take my men diving once or twice a week. We made a day of it. We ended up at J.K.’s for fried clams and after dinner on dive days, we went to play Goofy Golf and finished with one of Ledo’s great pizzas.

“I would like to film what we see underwater. That’s where pictures would tell the story of the fish and where they live. Your slides are beautiful but slides don’t catch the fish in motion.”

I’d seen underwater motion pictures. It did capture the sea creatures as they were. The color was evident and sizes and shapes were easier to establish.

A still picture offered a view of one frame frozen in time. It required a lot of notes to explain the story the picture couldn’t tell.

“Bill sometimes takes an underwater motion picture photographer on his research trips. I’ll ask him if one of the photographers might talk to you, Dylan,” I said.

“Cool. That would be far out, Daddy. One day I want to have a camera to take underwater pictures.”

The dollar signs rang up in my brain.

I’d never thought I could take motion pictures while I was on a dive. The excitement was in witnessing the strange beautiful world where most people will never go. I could give people an idea of what is in the sea by catching marine life in motion. Because I did the photography, stills were what I knew and slides were a great medium in telling the story I wanted to tell.

The idea of adding motion pictures to my work in the Gulf might have been an idea worth considering. I wanted to talk to Bill’s motion picture cameraman myself. Ivan’s plan to introduce Dylan to different sides of photography gave Dylan the practical experience a photographer would need.

He’d nearly mastered still photography overnight. His pictures were surprisingly good. Then, Ivan introduced motion to the equation. Dylan had yet to master motion, but he didn’t stop trying and I wouldn’t stop giving my son as much room as he wanted.

Expense would be prohibitive but the possibilities were endless. I was lucky to be able to give my son whatever it took to allow him to find the space he wanted to occupy in his life.

*****

“Did you see where Reagan’s first campaign stop was after getting the nomination for president?” Ivan asked.

“No, where?” I asked, folding back the Sunday comics.

“Philadelphia,” Ivan said.

“Where they signed the Declaration of Independence. Seems like a smart move. The creation of the presidency started there,” I said.

“Philadelphia, Mississippi,” Ivan said.

I lost interest in Lit’l Abner. I put the paper down.

“Why does that sound familiar?” I asked.

“Freedom Summer.”

I paused. I knew about Freedom Summer. The facts rushed back into my mind.

“Chaney, Schwermer, and Goodman,” I said. “I take back the remark about it being smart. It’s a bit in your face.”

“Give that man a Kewpie doll. Remembering them is important.”

“That was when I first moved here. Before I even knew you.”

“Before you knew me when they disappeared. We read about it in Time. When the bodies were found. It’s been sixteen years.”

“The Klan hid the bodies,” I said.

“Probably accelerated passage of the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act by years,” Ivan said. “LBJ was a great president but he had to play politics and that’s when he sold his soul to the devil.”

“What a waste,” I said. “Bad men controlling everyone in their sphere of influence,” I said.

I wondered how men who should never be allowed near power always manage to get power. In a dog-eat-dog world, these men inspired greed and hubris. It was wonderful for politicians but it didn’t work out well for the people.

*****

I made a dozen appearances for Harry in October and five for Lucy. Two when both of them appeared together close to election day. No one was happier than me when it was over. I didn’t mind it. There were things I enjoyed but by November I was worn out and sick of terrible fried chicken dinners.

I was invited to Harry’s for the election night watch. Lucy got the first invitation. I took Ivan and Dylan. I’d devoted far too much time to campaigning to spend any more time away from my men.

Harry didn’t initially invite Ivan and Dylan but he told me they were always welcome to accompany me. They were both anxious to see what happened at a future senators house on the night he was elected to higher office.

I was excited.

Captain Popov came as an honored guest. He wore his brand new tailored captain’s coat with gold braid on the sleeves and the captain’s hat with gold braiding on the bill.

Gifts from the regional director and the assistant director of the FBI. Along with it were a copy of Popov’s captain’s papers. Written above the official seal of Florida were the words:

‘Friend of the FBI.’

We knew about the ceremony in Tampa when Popov was officially thanked for capturing one of the FBI’s most wanted. He wouldn’t tell us how much the reward was but it was enough to make him smile.

With the loss of twenty pounds by the time his ordeal was over, Popov cut a dashing figure in the seat of honor in Harry’s den. Hearing his laughter and watching the sparkle return to his eyes was medicine for everyone.

Harry did end up with an opponent for the open senate seat. At the last possible minute a state legislator put his name on the ballot. For the life of me, I can’t remember his name.

Harry had a dozen ads running in the state. I was at his side in six ads. There was one ad with Harry boarding Sea Lab. I greeted him on the stern deck. Neither of us was featured in that ad. Sea Lab got star billing as the camera pulled back to show Sea Lab in all her glory.

I did pinch myself from time to time. I didn’t know how I got here from that pudgy boy who moved here from Tulsa. I hated my new home. I missed my friends. That lasted about a week. Then I loved my new home and I didn’t want to live anywhere else. By that time I had met the boy next door. He became my best friend.

I was fourteen then. It was sixteen years later. This Clay Olson couldn’t possibly be related to the one who came here from Tulsa.

It was easy to be where I was. I belonged here. I just didn’t know how I got here from where I started.

The only record of the event at Harry’s house in November of 1980 was Dylan’s motion picture of the event. I didn’t know he had the camera with him. Ivan put it in the car and it stayed there until we were mesmerized by Walter Cronkite’s election night reporting.

Dylan slipped out and brought back the camera when Ivan gave him the signal that this was the time to record the action. The camera was rolling when the magic happened.

“We’ve called the senate race for the open seat in Florida. Congressman Harry McCallister, an environmental force in congress for more than a decade, will be taking his place in the senate. Senator elect McCallister runs the Sanibel Island Conservancy. His conservancy is credited with some of the most comprehensive studies done in the Gulf of Mexico.”

The room erupted in cheers and applause. This came before ten and Dylan filmed us listening to Walter Cronkite giving the facts on Harry’s career. It was the peak of the action that evening. The phone immediately began to ring.

Even at 2 a.m. Lucy’s seat in the legislature wasn’t decided. The cameraman was sleeping with his head on Ivan’s shoulder. His father’s arm was around him.

It was a picture I couldn’t take. I would commit it to memory. My family was together and unlimited in what it could accomplish.

Lucy won a seat in the state legislature.

The excitement renewed once she was declared the official winner. Harry had been on the phone since ten and he was only able to smile when he received word that Lucy won.

It was two days later when John Foley was elected the new sheriff. Teddy’s friend from the A&P, when they were in high school, the big cowboy deputy who got me to my sister at school after Kent State, at an event when the kids closed down the high school. John made sure we stayed safe. He escorted us back to my car.

Ten years later he was elected Sheriff John Foley and he would be taking over for Sheriff Andy. John appeared one time on stage with Harry and Lucy at a campaign event a week before the election.

Harry kept his word to support a new candidate for sheriff.

*****

This was the beginning of Harry’s national prominence.

The never ending phone calls from supporters, donors, and friends wouldn’t stop until late Wednesday night. Harry was ready to go back to Washington to get some rest but this was the job he wanted and he was in demand.

Harry stood on the national stage now. Our campaigning was merely the beginning of what was to come. With the Sanibel Island Conservancy on his resume, we would receive endless scrutiny.

Harry would need to hire staff to answer inquiries into the conservancy and I would be on the hot seat more often than I liked.

Nefarious entities sought to discredit Harry and his conservancy.

Anyone fighting the EPA’s regulations that Harry sponsored were forced to clean up after themselves. Protecting the environment and the health of the people cost companies money and they didn’t like it and they spent millions trying to discredit the idea they pollute.

Fighting them was like David fighting Goliath. Corporations had vast budgets to dispel the idea they’d do harm. They lied. We were funded by contributions and we didn’t lie but we were the ones accused of lying.

Harry had more than one cause but he was called the environmental senator. His voice was respected and trusted, but he was attacked as a zealot and no friend to working men.

Even under fire, Harry spoke eloquently on preserving an environment that didn’t kill the people or make them sick.

A majority of people believed Harry. An increasing number of people saw Harry as dangerous to working people who needed the jobs he was endangering by wanting to keep the environment healthy.

The people of Florida knew Harry was the people’s senator.

That and a buck got you a cup of coffee in Washington.

I was reminded each time the conservancy came under fire for making things up that politics was a dirty business. I kept records to prove anything we put out as fact, but no one was interested in the records, they wanted to talk about the fight.

*****

Ivan built the new cove and interest in his development was growing. The campsites were occupied most days each week. Each morning Ivan and I walked along the cove beach with our first cup of coffee in hand.

This became our routine as the dust was settling on 1980.

Life was good. We’d put the trouble behind us. Carlos Santiago pleaded guilty to nine counts of racketeering and six counts of conspiracy to commit murder.

The bargain was, Big Carlos wasn’t going to fry but he was going to spend the rest of his life in a federal prison.

Lucy would sit in the legislature for about two months at the beginning of each year. She would room with one of the other legislators she knew for those months.

Lucy was a voice for a clean Florida. She was an advocate for the Sanibel Island Conservancy, it’s marine biologist, and of Senator Harry McCallister’s efforts to keep Florida clean and prosperous.

Lucy would teach as a substitute teacher during the months she wasn’t in Tallahassee. No matter whose class she substituted for, they got a lesson in government and another one on the environment. She didn’t give tests on what they learned from her.

*****

As close to making 1980 history as we were, it wasn’t ready to let us off quite so easy. There was another blow waiting to be delivered.

*****

A mighty oak in my generation was felled December 8, 1980.

*****

“The troubadour of peace and love was gunned down in front of his Dakota apartment building late Monday evening. He lived there with his wife Yoko and his son Sean. John Lennon was returning home from an interview to promote his new album, Double Fantasy.”

“The assassin waited. He was there when Lennon left. He held out a copy of Double Fantasy, Lennon signed on his way to an interview. When Lennon returned Monday evening, the assassin stepped from the shadows shooting him five times in the back, and today the world stopped to mourn the man and his music.”

“Lennon stood at the top of the rock and roll world for years, singing his songs of peace and love for fans all over the world.”

*****

Born in Liverpool and raised by his Aunt Mimi, John was sixteen when he met Paul McCartney at a Quarrymen’s concert, Lennon’s band at the time.

The rest is rock and roll history. The singing and song writing duo turned out a prolific amount of rock and roll as Lennon/McCartney.

John, Paul, George, and Ringo became rock and roll royalty as the Beatles sang their way around the world.

If Bob Dylan was the poet laureate for my generation, the Beatles provided the soundtrack for a generation that grew up on this music in the middle and late 60s.

The Beatles broke up after the 1960s ended but John, Paul, George, and Ringo each had successful solo careers. As the Beatles, they rocked the world with innovative and original sounds. Each time they released an album, fans lined up to see what ‘the boys’ produced this time.

John and Yoko moved to New York City, a place they loved. John said he could go out and walk the streets and besides saying hello, people let him have his space. He could walk into a restaurant, get a cup of coffee, and except for people saying, ‘Hi, John,’ in passing, he had privacy.

After five years as a househusband, without recording or appearing anywhere, John Lennon was back. He had a new album and the music would was a buzz with what was coming with John back on the scene and making music.

A man who shouldn’t have had a gun silenced John forever.

It was a familiar story. Good men who wanted to help the world become a better place, gunned down by men who hated everyone.

*****

Lennon’s death could have been one more shooting death in America but he was no ordinary victim.

The world stood still to cry at the news of his death.

John had been missed. His return had music lovers giddy with anticipation. The hope, the inspiration, the thought of more songs of peace and love died Monday night.

I went diving early Tuesday morning. Our beach was off the beaten path. I rarely had the urge to listen to the news to find out what was going on out there. I had my own life to take care of. The madness in the world had nothing to do with me, until Monday night, when the madness hit too close to home.

I noticed nothing unusual. The cove was just waking up as I sailed into the Gulf. As with most of my dives, I was in the Gulf early. I’d be back in time for lunch after spending an hour underwater.

I noticed the Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop wasn’t open. The lights were off. The Daddy-O was there. Ivan’s Buick wasn’t.

I drove home to shower and to have lunch. I wondered where Ivan was. He hadn’t mentioned going anywhere.

Lucy met me at the front door.

She’d been crying.

“Isn’t it terrible,” my sister said.

“What’s terrible?” I asked, immediately thinking of Dylan.

“You don’t know? They killed John Lennon last night.”

It was like one of my nightmares. He wasn’t really dead. Lucy wasn’t really there. Why would anyone kill John Lennon?

I was dreaming this. I had vivid dreams, but this was no dream.

I was stunned as the truth sunk in. I needed to be with Ivan. John was one of our favorite musicians, but he was far more than that. We grew up on the Beatles music. Most kids who were kids in the 60s grew up on the Beatles and we followed John Lennon’s transformation from rock idol to activist and Vietnam War protester.

I knew where Ivan was. I walked up the beach toward his house.

I heard Rubber Soul, his favorite Beatles album, blasting out into the Gulf. I could see Ivan sitting on the deck, his feet on the railing.

I went inside and up the stairs to sit beside him.

He took my hand, looking at it as he intertwined his fingers in mine. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. His cheeks were stained from tears already cried. He leaned his head on my shoulder and I put my arm around him.

For the rest of the day we listened to one Beatles album after another. They hadn’t recorded as the Beatles for ten years and the music was still as great as ever.

I’d forgotten how much they had to say in their songs.

The question often asked in music circles, ‘When will the Beatles get back together to record again?’ Had been answered.

For two days we listened and cried and we hardly spoke.

Only John Kennedy’s assassination came close to this event.

At thirteen I wasn’t at connected to politics or to Kennedy. He had a nice face and he spoke well. He seemed smart. Shooting him sounded extreme and people stopped on the street to cry then too.

*****

1980 turned out to be a great year, until just before it ended.

I felt fortunate to have the life I had. I had love. I had a beautiful son. My family was always the best part of me.

I loved my work and I looked forward to the future.

Life was good, even when, from time to time, I needed to face the harsh reality in the world beyond our beaches.

I was thankful to live on the Gulf near the cove. Even when we had trouble, it was trouble we got through and found a way to end.

1980 was done.

I was hoping 1981 would be a real good year.

We all did.

The End

“Yes… Yes… Yes!!!”

Male screams of ecstasy echoed down a dingy, poorly lit hall.  They reverberated from a thin wooden door with peeling paint and a piece of paper labeled “Room 3″ pasted to it.  The room beyond was hot and stale.  It reeked of tobacco smoke, musk, cum, and sweat.  A solitary bed was situated in the middle of the room.  Made of metal, it was rusted and looked over a hundred years old.  The mattress, if you could call it that, sagged into the bent and worn-out metal frame and was stained dark colors.  A worn, sweat-stained sheet that had once been white decades ago was all that separated it from the two figures above. 

“God, that dick feels good!” screamed the man again.

He was in his late fifties but looked to be a decade older.  His body was wrinkled and he had needle marks on both his arms.  He was straddling the large frame of a younger man whose enormous cock was being driven deep into his loose ass.  The younger man had his large hands on the older man’s waist and was pulling down on him to get deep.  A scrotum the size of a baseball contained enormous testicles that were primed and ready to breed.  They bounced on the squeaking mattress and frame with each gyration.

“Fuck!” the younger man growled with a deep and gravelly voice.  “You ready for a second load, bitch?”

“Fuck yeah!” the older man squealed in response.

The younger man tensed.  The muscles in his arms rippled, and his body arched upward as his orgasm crested.  His enormous orbs jumped upward as his thick shaft undulated and shot load after thick load into the older man riding him.  Intense pain soon followed.  His body tensed, and his face contorted as he rode through the feeling.  Cumming was never a pleasant experience, especially when the session lasted longer than the dose of the drug he took.  But he was getting paid to fuck and breed his clients, and he needed to empty his balls.

“Damn!” the older man screamed as his small cock erupted hands-free.  “You fucked a load out of me!”

The younger man let his body fall into the mattress with a thud.  He dropped his arms and squeezed his fists as the pins and needles and sharp pains traveled through his groin and up his spine.

“Fuck!” the younger man growled louder as he let his head fall back.

“You are a beast!” the older man replied with a smile as he reached down and rubbed the thin hairs that covered the younger man’s chest.  

Decades of previous hair removal had stunted his follicles, and apart from the scraggly beard on his face, peach fuzz was all he could grow from the neck down.  The younger man opened his eyes and looked up at the older man, and he tried to smile.

“Well, you paid for an hour and got two big loads.  I hope you are satisfied.”

“Fuck yeah!” the older man said as he lifted his body off the thick, girthy pole that was still at attention and dripping.”

“You always give me quite a ride!” the older man said as he stepped onto the floor of the room and attempted to squeeze his ass shut.

Cum was dripping down his leg as he slid on his pants and put on a dingy shirt.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any cash to tip you with, but I will add a few dollars to the bill on the way out.”

“Thanks,” the younger man said as he pulled himself up and twisted to let his large legs fall over the side of the bed and his big feet land on the floor.

His cock was still pulsing, but it slowly deflated as he grabbed a cigarette off a broken table next to the bed and lit it.  He sucked on the rolled paper, letting the pungent tobacco fill his lungs, which he then exhaled into the air above as he nodded at the older man who had just put his shoes on.

“I’ll see you next week,” the older man said.

“Till then,” the younger man replied.

The older man left, and as the door to the room closed, the younger man let out a groan as he grabbed his balls and cock.

“Fucking hell.”

Placing the cigarette on the side of the table, he reached into a basket and pulled out a syringe filled with a cloudy liquid.  Pulling the cap off the end, he inserted it into a port that had been permanently implanted in his upper arm, located just above his former slave tattoos.  Pushing the stopper at the end of the syringe, the drug flooded his system, and he felt a numbing fog wash over his brain.  Dropping the empty syringe, he grabbed the cigarette, placed it in his mouth, and then fell back on the dingy bed.

A cool flush caused his body to shutter.  His balls quivered and sunk low in their large home as his cock pulsed and then slid to the side and deflated.  The young man inhaled deeply as he ran his hands over his body.  The pain ebbed, and he could almost feel the chemicals prepping his body to recharge and fuck once again.

The young man had experienced a hard time over the past nine months.  But, then again, he had always had a hard life.  He had been born Jeffery Allen Kennedy, Jr.  The eldest son and the fourth child of two poor migrant farmers in north Texas.  His parents had gone on to have nine kids, and he and his siblings were put to work as soon as they could legally be in the fields.  He had left grade school after seventh grade and had grown into a strong and muscled teen through his manual labor.  His large feet and hands were assets as he toiled in the fields and did odd jobs for the neighbors to bring in extra cash.

He still remembered the first girl he fucked.  Her name was Jill, and she was the daughter of a man that Jeff had been chopping wood for.  They were both fifteen, and after hours of swinging an axe, his body was covered in sweat, and his pants were soaked, highlighting his impressive package.  She had been flirting with him for over a week, but when she hiked up her skirt and fingered herself in front of the teen, Jeff could take no more.   They both ran to the barn, and he was soon deep in her, sowing his oats for the first time.

As he matured, he began to make his way to other farms and bedded a wide selection of Texas teens.  He was quite a catch and had no trouble getting laid.  But his life all changed the day he turned seventeen.  

A drought had swept through the Great Plains that year, and many farmers were impacted before the government stepped in to help.  His family took it the hardest.  The land they were working on was decimated, and his parents blew through all of their savings trying to support their children.  Jeff knew what was coming, though he still felt the pain in his chest when his father told him he would be sold into slavery along with two of his younger brothers.  His older sister was also promised to an older farmer in the next county over, who could support her, and she agreed to take on two of the youngest girls as well.  His entire family was being broken up to survive.

Jeff still remembered being dropped off at the Texas Slave Market by his father.  He put on a brave face, but when his twenty-year contract was signed, he was swiftly moved into the processing center.  He turned to see his father leaving without a goodbye.  

The young man was soon stripped naked.   His clothes were disposed of, and a hefty green tag was attached to his ear.  He was treated just like the cattle he saw on the farms where he grew up.  His physique did not go unnoticed.  He was a hairy young man with dense, dark fur covering his chest, arms, and legs.  He had a nice size set of balls and an above-average cock that swung side to side with every step he made with his large feet.  His chest was broad and muscled, and his arms and legs were thick and powerful.  He could have tried to escape if he wanted to, but he knew better.

The first day at the facility had been humiliating.  He had been gawked at and examined.  He had been fed an erection-inducing pill, and when he was at full mast, a man arrived to shove a large metal probe up his ass.  Electricity had been delivered, and he screamed as his cock convulsed and his cum was collected in a container to be sampled and studied.  A ball gag had been forced into his mouth, so he was unable to speak.  He had then been chained naked in a cage next to dozens and dozens of other slaves.  There were young men of all shapes, sizes, and colors, but they had one thing in common.  They were all about to be sold.

He had to squat and shit twice in the side of the cage and then stare at the piles for hours before men came to hose it away.  He had been dehumanized.  He was no longer a man.  He was a piece of property, and he had cried himself to sleep against the cold metal bars.

In the morning, he was awoken by the clang of metal on the bars of his cage.  He looked up to see the face of a large man.  Clyde Handleman had been given exclusive early access to check out the slave property being sold that day.  He had gone to school with the facility’s owner, and the man had owed him a few favors from past gambling debts.  Clyde was a massive beast of a man.  His ebony skin glistened in the light of the warehouse, and his deep brown eyes pierced through Jeff’s cage and zeroed in on the young man’s physique.

“So, your family sold ya,” Clyde said.  “You are quite a fine specimen of a slave.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jeff replied into his gag as he nodded.

“Y698,” Clyde said as he read the fact sheet that had been attached to the young slave’s cage.  “Yes.  Those are very impressive stats.  And your sperm counts and mobility are very high.  Have you knocked up anyone yet?”

“No, Sir,” Jeff said into the round rubber ball between his teeth as he shook his head.

“I’m shocked with these numbers,” Clyde replied.  “Well, let me get down to it.  I am going to purchase you today.  I know this is an auction, but let’s say I have a deal in place to purchase any slave I want before the festivities begin.  I need what is in those balls of yours.”

Jeff remembered swallowing a load of spit at that point.

“I’m starting a breeding farm,” Clyde continued.  “I will start with three slaves, and you will be my first purchase today.  The slave market will process you, and in addition to slave tattoos and an implant in your neck to keep you from escaping, you will be fitted with a port in your arm.  Through this, I will be able to pump drugs into your body.  This will cause those impressive balls of yours to swell even larger, and your shaft will thicken and engorge as well.  Your hormones will be supercharged, and you soon will be able to cum several times a day.  I hope to milk those balls at least four times a day.”

Jeff’s eyes were wide as he heard his future owner speak.  His cock involuntarily swelled between his legs at the thought.

“I see that that cock of yours approves of this idea,” Clyde replied with a laugh.  “The drugs will also increase your volume and potency.  It is the sperm I need, after all.  Unfortunately, it also means your orgasms will become painful.  But the concoction I’ll be giving you will also include a sedative and a chemical that will make you feel like you are on cloud nine.  Yes, for the next twenty years, your cock will be milked over and over, and your seed will be sold for profit, making me a wealthy man.  At least that is the hope.”

Jeff was now shaking on the floor of his cage.

“Now, don’t be nervous, there!” Clyde said as he squatted down, reached out, and gently squeezed Jeff’s leg.  “You are going to be my bull for profit.  I will take excellent care of you.  You will be well-fed and allowed to work out to maintain your physique.  However, we will have to remove all that hair of yours.  It just is not sanitary in a milking facility.  We can dip you weekly in a bath of chemicals to make all that body hair fall off, and your face and head will be shaved daily.  Just be calm.  Be lucky that I am purchasing you.  You could have been bought as a sex slave or for manual labor!”

Clyde laughed again as he stood, and Jeff’s eyes followed his every move.

“I can’t wait till my young man sees you.  Lewis is just as excited as I am to get this milking farm started.  He has never seen a slave before, and you will be a great specimen for him to inspect.  I will see you again soon.”

Jeff had watched as Clyde walked away.  Soon after, he was removed from his cage and sent back for processing.  Within a week, he had been tattooed, branded, and implanted with his port and had arrived at Handleman Farms for his first day in the barn.  

He had already been given his first denuding.  His smooth skin was an odd sensation, as was his shaved head and face.  He had always had a nice beard and long hair to match his furry body.  A metal band had been installed around his waist, and a metal chastity cage attached to this had encased his genitals, which had already been significantly enlarged through particular drugs at the market.  His balls had increased in size by almost twenty-five percent, and they ached as he had not been allowed to touch himself or orgasm for over a week.

The stall Clyde had selected for him had been at the end of a newly constructed barn.  A metal chair greeted him as he approached it, and his master had helped him into it and strapped him in.  It was only then that the metal chastity cage was removed, and a tube was placed over his shaft, which rapidly filled with blood upon release.  The port in his arm was attached to tubes that delivered a drug into his body, and a separate tube was placed in his mouth and secured with a small gag so that he could receive fluids and sustenance throughout the day.

The drug that had been delivered into his port acted quickly.  He had felt a flush over his whole body that made him shiver, and his balls and cock had reacted almost immediately.  His shaft filled the tube it was inserted in, and the feeling of blue balls increased in his testicles.

“We are almost done,” Clyde said with pride as he reached under Jeff’s chair.

The chair was designed to spread and lift the slave’s legs.  Clyde slid a rubber noose around the fist-sized testicles that hung below and secured them so they were out of the way.  He then pulled a lever, and a lubricated metal butt plug swung into place and forced its way into Jeff’s ass.  The young man had screamed and flinched as it invaded his virgin ass, and his ass clamped tight around the smaller neck of the device.

“There we go,” Clyde said with a smile as he rubbed the smooth legs of the slave.  “You are ready, Y698.”

Clyde looked at the eyes of his slave and paused a moment before reaching down and feeling the heavy balls that were now primed to produce.

“No, I think we will call you Hog,” the man said.  “That cock and balls of yours are already thick and heavy, and before long, it will be double that size.  A definite hog.”

Jeff watched as Clyde pressed a switch and soon felt more chemicals flood his body as the milking machines started and began to stroke his cock.  He groaned as he felt the movement up and down on his sensitive shaft, and he felt himself drifting into a cloud of bliss.

It only took fifty seconds for the slave’s balls to lift and his cock to explode inside the tube.  A massive load of cum was soon sucked away, and Jeff was amazed as he saw it sail through the tubing and up and over his head.  But then he felt a tinge of pain.  It became more and more intense, and his body seized.  As the orgasm crested, he felt as though a knife was being stabbed into his groin.  Clyde saw this and adjusted the dosage of the meds, and soon, the feeling left the slave’s body as he drifted off into a blissful sleep.

“Yeah, we need to work on the dosage of that med, Hog,” Clyde had said as the slave was drifting off.  “But we will adjust things so you won’t feel any more pain.”

It had been the first day of Hog’s life as a slave, and soon, the days became weeks, then months, then years.  Two decades passed as he was milked time and time again.  His balls increased well over two hundred percent of their starting size, and his sack hung like a baseball between his thick, muscled legs.  His shaft and head had also enlarged, adding three inches in length and two and a half in girth to his already impressive package.  But the slave could never admire what was attached to him.  It was always locked away in a chastity cage when he was not being milked, and when he was in his stall, he was always in a fog of drug-induced bliss.

Over the years, Clyde had retired and handed the farm over to his son Lewis, who had cared for and treated Hog as a prized animal.  So, it had been quite a shock when he had woken up and prepared for another day’s milking only to have his chastity cage removed, handed clothes for the first time, and told he was a free man.  Jeff did not know what to do.  His whole life revolved around being milked and producing for his Master.

He had been given six doses of medication to take with him to help him deal with the pain of orgasms that would come now that he was on his own.  Without the constant pharmaceutical drips, however, he had been told he would be able to adjust back to a normal human life with less volume and more pleasure in his shots of cum.  He had also been given enough money to cover six months of rent at a housing facility for ex-slaves, and he had travel resources to return home.  As he was put into a car by the technician slave who had come to care for him and drove away from the farm for the last time, he reached down and felt the bulge in his jeans and silently cried.

Jeff was let out at a bus stop and took the following route to his old hometown.  When he arrived, he could barely recognize it.  The area had been built with apartments and homes, and none of the farms he had worked at and grown up on existed.  As he stepped off the bus, many people turned to stare at him.  He was bald and clean-shaven.  There was not a hair on his body.  He had been given a stylish shirt and pants, but they were cut tight, and the obscene bulge in the front was hard to hide, as were the slave tattoos on his arms and neck that bore his former designation, Y698.  The hole in his ear that had held his green tag for two decades was also visible.  There was no hiding he had been a slave, but everyone needed to know he was not an “escaped” slave.  Thus, he quickly went to the nearest police office to obtain a metal dog tag around his neck that designated him as a free man.

While at the station, he used their computer system to try to locate his family.  His parents had disappeared years ago, and there were no records of them in any of the state files.  Nor were there records of his two brothers, who had also been sold into slavery.  However, if they had been released on the same day as he had, it could take time for their records to be reprocessed and located anywhere in the world.  He found the records for two of his sisters.  One lived in New York, and another in Spain now.  However, none of his relatives were nearby, and he left the station without direction.

The hostel in the town center that took in ex-slaves was an older building, but it was clean and well-maintained.  Jeff had checked in under Hog’s name.  He had been called that for twenty years and saw no reason not to use it as his official name now.  The woman at the desk constantly stared at his crotch, and she smiled while she checked him in.  When she was done and handed him his room key, Hog blurted out the first thing on his mind.

“Look, I just was released from a slave milking facility this morning, and my balls are killing me.  I might be reading this wrong, but do you want to help me blow a load or two?  I haven’t been with a woman in twenty years, but I don’t think it would take much.”

“Yes!” the woman shouted as she grabbed Hog’s arm and led him down the hall and to the room.  

As they entered, she tore off her clothes as Hog kicked off his uncomfortable shoes and peeled off the shirt and pants that constricted him.  The woman’s eyes bulged when she saw the massive slab of meat that emerged and the huge dangling balls that dropped below.  Hog’s shaft immediately engorged as he reached down and felt it.

“Fuck, I haven’t even touched my cock since I was a teenager,” he said.

“Well, come over here, and let’s put it to use, stud!” she said.  “You milking bulls always give a good ride!”

The woman reached out and threw the large man onto the bed and straddled him, shoving his thick tool deep inside her.  Hog groaned as his eyes rolled back into his head, and she did her work.  She was loose and no stranger to riding cock, especially milking bull cocks, and it was not long till Hog felt a warm feeling in his body.

“Oh, God,” Hog said.  “I am so fucking close.”

The woman groaned in ecstasy as Hog went over the edge.  At first, the massive shot of cum that left his balls was a relief.  He had been wanting to jack off since he had left his former home.  The force of the load was such that it filled the woman and dripped out and over the large man’s shaft and balls.  But then, a sharp pain followed.  Like someone had taken a knife to his balls, a searing pain shot threw Hog as more loads of cum erupted from him.  

“FUCK!” Hog screamed in pain.

“Oh,” the woman replied as she continued to ride the man to her orgasm.  “I forgot to warn you about that.  It will take time for those drugs they gave you to work out of your system.  Until you do, the stuff that made you hard, horny, and able to shoot so much will give you a lot of pain.”

“Oh fuck!” Hog screamed again as more cum shot from his loins.

The woman seemed to get off on his pain, and she experienced an orgasm as her body flushed and she rode the geyser that was overfilling her.  Hog tried to push her off, but she clamped tight on him and continued to ride.

“You stay still, bitch!” the woman screamed as her voice became firm and deep.  “Or I will tell them you are causing trouble.  You are my bull for pleasure now!”

Hog groaned as he felt this woman take control.  When the orgasms finally stopped, the pain in his balls ebbed, and the woman pulled herself from the large man’s tool.  She grabbed Hog’s pants and fished out one of the syringes he had been given, and she plunged the contents into the port in his arm.  As it flooded his system, he felt a familiar rush of euphoria.

“Now you listen here,” the woman said as she tossed the syringe in a trashcan.  “You mention that we fucked to anyone, and I will kick you out.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Hog groaned as he flew through a sky of pink clouds.  His softening cock fell into a quarter cup of cum that puddled on his groin.

“Do you have family here?” she asked.

“No,” Hog replied.

“Do you have a job prospect?” she asked.

“No,” Hog replied.

“Would you like one?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Master,” Hog replied. 

“Master,” the woman said with a laugh.  “I love newly freed slaves.  They are so pliable.  You just come to me if you need employment.  I know of a job for a hung milking slave like you that will help pay for that drug you seem to like so much.  And believe me, when you start going through withdrawal soon, you will beg for it.”

The woman laughed as she left the room, and Hog passed out.

Hog had woken up hours later.  His groin was covered in crusted cum, and his cock was erect and throbbing.  He leaned over and grabbed another syringe from his pants, plunged it into his port, and then proceeded to jack himself off for the first time in twenty years.  It felt weird holding his shaft.  It was far larger than the last time he had stroked it, but as his mind drifted into the sky again, cum erupted from his loins and covered his body and bed.  He jacked off twice more before coming down off the drug and wandering out to get his first meal as a free man.

Hog had only been given six syringes of the drug.  He was supposed to report to a local medical facility to start treatments to lower his sex drive and prepare him to remove his arm port, ass brand, and slave tattoos.  However, when he had been told that the process often caused depression and erectile difficulties, he had a change of heart.  What did it matter if he had his tattoos or a big brand on his ass?  It was evident from the hole in his ear and the massive bulge in his pants that he had been a slave.  He had taken to walking barefoot everywhere as well.  He never wore shoes on the farm, which were too uncomfortable to wear now.  

After three days, he was out of his drug, and withdrawal symptoms followed.  He began to sweat in his bed, and he nearly passed out from the searing agony he experienced when he came.  The woman who ran the facility also forced him to please her whenever she was in heat, and she orgasmed every time his body was rocked with pain.  But, when he did a good job, she would plunge a shot of the drug into his arm from her stash, and it allowed him to live another day.  

Hog soon started purchasing Zirtran B off the street using the funds he had been given.  In small doses, it allowed him to maintain his erections and load volume and ease the pain that came with it, but even purchasing small doses added up.  Within two months, he was broke and was at the mercy of his landlord.  She seemed pleased at the former slave under her control and soon found a permanent place of employment for him: a local brothel.

The place was a rat hole at the edge of town.  The rooms stunk and were roach-infested, but Hog was promised three meals a day and a healthy dose of his drug to keep him in top form and able to meet the needs of multiple clients daily.  He had been warned by his former master and by the medical people he had seen after he became free that continued use of the drug would eventually leave him sterile and unable to cum, but right now, all he needed was to breed his next client so he could get his fix.

As Hog blew the last bits of smoke from the cigarette in his mouth away, he pulled himself to a sitting position and grabbed a crusted towel to wipe the remnants of cum away from his shaft and abdomen.  Inside the drawer of the table, he found a box of wipes that he used to half-heartedly clean and disinfect his genitalia.  Throwing the cloth in a small trash bin, he flexed his body and felt his muscles.  They had started to decrease in size from lack of exercise, though his body was still impressive.  

A knock on the door distracted him, and he looked up to see a young fit man appear.  It was his next client.  Most of them were men.  At first, this disgusted him.  But over time, he realized a nut was a nut.  It didn’t matter what sex his client was as long as he got fed and was given his drug.  He was a slave again.  But, then again, he had always been a slave.  

“Howdy,” Hog said as he stroked his stiff cock.  “What position do you want to be in?”

“Lean back and throw those legs on my shoulders,” the young man said as he unbuckled his belt.  “I’ve got eight inches of thick meat, and I wanna see your big cock and balls bouncing as you take my loads.”

“All yours, stud,” Hog said as he leaned back, lifted and spread his legs, and exposed his gaping hole.  “Pound my branded ex-slave ass and breed me with your cum.”