STEAM ROOM DISASTER. PART 4
A drunken man finds trouble in the steam room.
A drunken man finds trouble in the steam room.
A drunken, straight man finds trouble in the steam room.
Richard continues to use me. Even on my day off.
I’m just a college guy who saw an ad looking for Speedo Waiters and thought I’d give it a shot. The other Speedo Waiter turned out to be a friend of mine from school who I had many fantasies about. At the end of the night we put a bit of a show on for the guests.
This is a true account of my first time with another man. I’ve never realized how wild my inner desires were until I met him.
Sorry dudes for some reason it will not let me wright any farther sorry part 3 has more sex and horror my bad guys but read this tho
Three women go out to the bar and really tie one on. The following morning they run into each other at work. The first says, “Wow, I got so drunk last night that I was running around the bar with out my top on.”
The second says, “That isn’t nothing. When I got home I couldn’t get the room to stop spinning and I fell down the stairs.”
The third says, “That isn’t nothing. When I got home I blew chunks.”
The other two say, “That isn’t so bad.”
The third says, “You don’t understand, Chunks is my dog!”
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christian school… in class… sallys asleep
Once upon a time there was a silly little female called Tahlia, but her real name was Shelli.
This one is much better…
West tries out his new invention on a old foe and his girlfriend.
A girl is asked a favor. But it was more than she bargained for.
Peaches followed the tug of her lead to the Franklin Gate she’s helped set up. The first world they were going to was the 13th in the series listed by Franklin, the one she’d suggested herself, was her destination. But she wasn’t going alone!
Peaches’ original plan had been to attempt to enter the societies she would be visiting, alone, and use her Slaveworld-given charms and training to bring back things that Samuel and his society would find useful. But the Slaveworlders were a bit unsure about letting her off her leash. They didn’t think she’d escape, she realised as they discussed it over cards, her head in Lady Cleobell’s lap. They just didn’t want to entrust something that was actually important to a slave! It just rubbed them all the wrong way.
So Peaches was going simply as herself. No disguises. Rather than reveal the existence of a Gate, the man who held her lead would tell the citizens of the world they were about to enter a cover story, and her role would be similar to her own original plan, except that she would have n respite from slavery even while on her mission!
Peaches, her new name engraved on a shiny metal disk hanging from her cute pink collar, shivered in fear. Her mind was a whirl of emotions, and one of the strongest was confusion – what had she done? How had she landed herself here? The man holding her lead was a tall, patrician-looking minor aristocrat, a friend of the family of Colonel Ewing, Peaches’ legal owner. His name was Ross, and he was a Baronet, a low-ranking aristocrat but an aristocrat. He was the obvious choice, she realised – he was important enough to be trusted, but not too important to be lost should the plan fail. He was dressed this morning, and warmly – it was autumn on the world the Gate would drop them into. Meanwhile Peaches, for the first time in months, was wearing clothing – of sorts.
Her body was encased in a red latex catsuit, more than skintight, with a matching red latex corset over the top. Her blonde hair was tucked up in a ponytail, exiting out of a hole in the red latex hood that covered her head, leaving her face exposed. Thigh-high PVC boots with 4 inch platforms and 7 inch heels, hobbled at 18 inches by a tiny steel chain between her ankles, completed her basic outfit. Peaches’ arms were cuffed together down her back, wrist to wrist and elbow to elbow, forcing her breasts out into increased prominence. A typical Slaveworld gesture, her catsuit was open at the crotch and her nipples protruded too, a small, pretty weight dangling painfully from each one. Her crotch chain simply clipped onto her catsuit, the tiny steel links holding a teasing dildo and butt plug inside her. She hadn’t slept last night – she’d been busy being introduced to the man who would be her pretend owner for the next two days , and afterwards the Colonel had wanted to give her a goodbye screwing – and she was terrified, humiliated and desperate to come!
Just a normal day, then, Peaches reflected wryly. The Gate shimmered into life, and her new master looked her over. Seeing that she was nervous, he slipped his hand between her legs, stroking her clitoris against the rough-yet-smooth chain. When she sighing behind her mouth-stretching red ball gag, he stopped, but he had done enough – Peaches would follow him anywhere now, on the offchance that he might do that some more!
In fantasy, being a slave had been much less scary and much, much less humiliating, but on the other hand Peaches never could have imagined the effects of the best brainwashing she could imagine, plus the modification, the surgically implanted aphrodisiacs and the constant affirmation of her place as a slave, a possession. When she told her owner or one of his friends that she existed to please them, Peaches wasn’t lying!
Her groin on fire with lust, wiggling her walk more than she had been taught to try to increase the sensation from the dildo and plug strapped inside her, Peaches walked forward on the end of her lead into a new world.
She felt dizzy again, almost falling to her knees, the world spinning around like it did when she’d had way too much to drink. But her owner grabbed her, holding her against him tightly, and smiled down at her. She felt herself relaxing, and then he took out a map and compass and set off across a thin gravel track. Peaches couldn’t help but notice that she was not dressed for hiking, but they seemed to be in a fairly civilized wilderness, with neat tracks and pretty waterfalls. She felt it was familiar, but she couldn’t seem to make her mind work… things slipped away from her, leaving ehr a mindless, panting, drooling mess, with nothing in her mind that hadn’t been put there by her owners. She fought against it, but on one level she knew she welcomed it and that was when she got really scared. In the early days, she’d woken up crying just like all the other new slaves and been dragged from her cell for extra obedience training. The best thing to settle a slave down, the Slaveworld trainers reckoned, and after they’d finished with her she’d always slept the next night at least.
But in the colonel’s slaveblock, she’d woken up crying still sometimes. And then one of the stable hands had come to talk to her, a kindly man in his forties with a paunch and a short beard who sat by her cell, feeding her sugarcubes through the bars and stroking her flawless velvet skin until she stopped sobbing. He never made her come at night, though she always hoped he would bribe his colleagues to look the other way while he did, and she really had wanted him to enjoy her, but he was more sentimental than anything else, She knew his interest was the same as an old man talking to a horse or a dog back home, but he still made her feel better…
Peaches was jolted out of her reverie by the realization that a man was walking towards them. She stopped as her owner did, automatically, and thought in the back of her mind about how differently she and Sir Ross were looking at the man. He’s just thinking about the mission, she thought, but the mission depends on me being a good toy. I have to be this stranger’s plaything…
The man was kind of walking, kind of running, and he reached them a lot sooner than Peaches would have thought. He was obviously fit and muscular, shorter than the aristocrats Peaches was used to seeing on the Slaveworld and wearing loose fitting breeches and a collarless shirt with three-quarter length sleeves. He smiled broadly, his weirdly pale skin hardly creasing, and offered his hand to Sir Ross.
‘Hi, I’m Jaq’uu-iz, but my friends call me Jaq.’
‘Delighted to meet you, my name is Michael Ross,’ Sir Ross told the man.
‘And this is?’
‘Oh, her name is Peaches,’ Sir Ross said, offhand.
‘Like the fruit? How delicious!’
Sir Ross was obviously a little surprised that the man was accepting of a sex slave so immediately, but he said nothing. In another life, he and Peaches might have shared a glance of puzzlement; but she wasn’t here for that.
‘My house is just a few minutes’ walk this way,’ Jaq’ said, gesturing expansively. Perhaps you’d like to…’
‘Delighted, thank you.’
Sir Ross moved off, chatting with Jaq’ who kept shooting little glances at Peaches, obviously curious and, as a girl with some experience, Peaches would have said he was obviously attracted to her too.
Jaq’s house turned out to be a huge, mostly underground complex with walls that showed the views outside, so it felt unnervingly like you were somewhere else. The house was warm enough that Peaches was beginning to sweat within moments of entering the place, her catuit ovbviously well designed as heating. Jaq offered both of them refreshments, and Sir Ross gratefully accepted. While Jaq’ was out of the room, seeming to wink out of existence as he stepped out of the hidden doorway, Sir Ross pulled the kneeling Peaches in front of him and undid his flies, taking his jacket off and unbuckling Peaches’ ball gag.
Peaches obediently opened her mouth and began to suck and kiss her owner’s cock. Using the tip of her tongue, pierced twice for the purpose, she could tickle and caress the tip of his cock. Unusually for her, she was being allowed to run the show to some extent and she relished the freedom; like all Slaveworld sex toys Peaches was tit trained and she was often controlled by her user’s squeezing, pinching, twisting and rolling her nipples and breasts. She bobbed her head, feeling herself get wetter as the heavy cock in her mouth swelled further, and sighing in pleasure around it. If she was wearing a bigger dildo, or she had more time, she could come from sucking cock, she knew, but it wasn’t going to happen this time, she reflected as she slurped. Still, sex isn’t about pleasing me, she reminded herself as Sir Ross’ cock began to flex in her mouth, salty precum on her tongue.
Peaches heard footsteps that stopped in the doorway and mentally reconstructed the scene: Jaq’ returns, sees me on my knees with a cock in my mouth, wonders how to react. Then… the footsteps returned to the table and Jaq’ sat, Sir Ross’ cock momentarily getting less close to filling her mouth with cum as he greeted their host and began chatting.
‘So have you walked far today?’ Jaq’ asked.
Peaches felt herself chill; would Sir Ross remember to hide the fact that they’d appeared out of nowhere?
‘Not too bad, but we didn’t really know where we were. I’m useless with one of these things!’ Sir Ross held up his map and compass.
‘What is that?’ Jaq’ leaned in to take the map, feeling it, and turning the compass around in his hands.
Sir Ross went on to explain the basics of the art of map-reading, his cock barely hard in Peaches’ eager mouth now, his attention elsewhere. Jaq’ was stunned.
‘That’s amazing,’ he said. ‘You’re so Prim!’
‘Prim?’
‘Oh, um, yeah that’s just what my friends call it, like Primitive you know? Seeing people face to face, I mean I like to make my own tea, but that’s about as far as I go. When I want to find my way around I normally let my mover do it for me but if I’m out walking and it’s a part of the estate I haven’t been to for a while, I use this.’ He looked slightly shamefaced as he held up a little flat thing as big as a credit card.
‘Here,’ he said, ‘I’ve got a dozen, you might need it!’
Sir Ross shifted in his seat as he accepted the gift.
‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you! I couldn’t help but notice as we were walking over here that you seemed to like the look of Peaches?’
Peaches could imagine the look on Jaq’s face. According to the original Gate team’s research, there were plenty of worlds like her own Earth, where the idea of people belonging to each other was OK but it was never as one dimensional as the Slaveworld. And there were even more like this one, where men like Jaq’ would be surprised at the ‘that’s my bird’ response, but would be totally nonplussed at the idea of being offered a slave to play with. Maybe.
‘Um, yes, I suppose…’
‘Would you like to play with her, do you think?’
‘Really?’ Jaq’ answered a little too quickly, Peaches thought.
‘Absolutely! I can finish with her, or you can join in, up to you?’
‘No, no, you, um finish with her…’
Jaq’ stood, and began to watch the proceedings more closely as Peaches renewed her efforts. Sir Ross just wanted to come as quickly as possible now and Peaches gulped and slurped noisily as he held her head by her hair, pushing himself into her mouth in hard little thrusts. She squeaked and moaned with excitement as he neared orgasm, his cock twitching and pulsing, then he pushed himself to the back of her mouth as he came, shooting his semen straight down her throat.
As the sour salty liquid stuck to the inside of her gullet, Peaches reflected that he had been considerate to their host. He hadn’t made a mess of her!
‘MMmmm…’ Sir Ross sighed in satisfaction, then let Peaches lick his cock clean and zipped himself up.
‘Now,’ he said to Jaq’, have you ever used a slave before?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Jaq’ replied. ‘What’s a slave?’
Sir Ross was momentarily stumped.
‘Um… OK, you know how this place belongs to you? Or your clothes do?’
Jaq’ nodded uncertainly.
‘Well, a slave is like that. Peaches is a sex slave, so she exists for people to enjoy sexually, don’t you Peaches?’
Peaches looked Jaq’ in the eye when she answered, rather than Sir Ross. She knew it was a breach of etiquette and for a slave that could mean a whipping or worse, she just had a hunch.
‘Yes Master.’
Sir Ross smiled at both of them.
‘Do you mean she’s…’ Jaq’ searched for a word, ‘property?’
‘Yes, of course!’
Peaches was tempted to laugh. What a comical misunderstanding, she thought; one of them can’t imagine what property is, the other is shocked that I could be anything else…
‘So what, um…’
He’s made up his mind, Peaches thought. She wasn’t surprised. Faced with the reality of a helplessly bound, attractive girl who proudly said she existed for your sexual pleasure, she could easily see why most people would leave the thinking until afterwards.
Peaches felt her lead handed over, and with it the key to her restraints. ‘If you want to use her ass or pussy, you just unlock this chain, here…’
Sir Ross demonstrated as he stroked Peaches idly through her latex second skin. She whined in soft lust, feeling relaxed now she knew she was going to be fucked.
‘Is there anything I’m not allowed to do?’ Jaq’ asked Sir Ross.
‘You mustn’t injure her, basically. Otherwise, she’s yours to enjoy!
Jaq’ advanced on her with a big grin on his face. Even in this unbelievably rich world, Peaches thought to herself, he’s been handed the keys to the toy store!
She felt his hand touch her head hesitantly, then stroke her face, shivering as she instinctively nuzzled his hand. On Slaveworld she would probably have been punished for that, but here she needed to show him how eager she was. Slaveworld aristocrats already knew!
Peaches stood when Jaq’, discovering his confidence, pulled her to her feet by her hair, his face a picture of delight. She couldn’t help herself; she was desperate to please him! Maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t here alone, she thought idly as Jaq’ ran his hands over her body, making her nipples tingle, her clit painfully hard, pussy so wet her thighs were wet too. There was no way she could do this and be a spy too!
Jaq’ stood face to face with her, his hand slipping between her thighs, finding her crotch chain and the dildo and buttplug it held inside her. Peaches moaned in helpless lust as a stranger touched between her legs, but without the professional ease or practiced sadism she was used to. Jaq’s erection was throbbing in his trousers, Peaches’ eyes locked on her user’s as she had been trained. Jaq’ looked over to Sir Ross. The aristocrat nodded encouragingly.
Jaq’s hand moved between Peaches’ legs, caressing her pussy lips and touching her clit, making her squeal and gasp, the palm of his hand making her dildo move inside her, fucking her. She felt herself flush, her eyes wide, lightheaded with lust as Jaq’ grinned happily, overjoyed at how wet and responsive she was. Peaches was used to being a nice surprise – more sensitive to the Slaveworld’s aphrodisiac than most toys, Peaches was unusually hot and wet even for a sex slave, but Jaq’ had never seen the regular article. He was obviously getting some kind of contact high!
‘If you’ve never played with a slave before, you might want to just use her mouth and then maybe wait a bit. She’s hot, isn’t she?’
Jaq’ nodded, then said, ‘how do I, um…’
‘Just move her or order her.’ Sir Ross replied. ‘Like this.’ Peaches twitched in involuntary fear as she felt her owner’s hand land hard on her ass, pushing her down. ‘Kneel, slut,’ he told her. Peaches sank to her knees, and Jaq’ undid his flies and his extremely hard cock was waggling in Peaches’ face. She bowed her head to him and let him slip into her mouth, her tongue caressing him. Her eyes remained locked on Jaq’s as he gazed down at her, his face distorted with pleasure. Peaches had only bobbed her head a couple of times when Jaq’ came, filling her mouth with his hot, sticky come. Peaches sucked and slurped eagerly until Jaq’ had finished his orgasm, then knelt open mouthed, tongue out, as she’d been trained, displaying her semen-covered tongue, dripping onto her boos as she waited for Jaq’ to order her to swallow.
But jaq’ had gotten the idea of sex slaves pretty quick. He was talking to Sir Ross, looking at her but with a totally proprietary glance. She was savvy enough to realize that he would never regard her as anything but a slave now; just a few seconds of total, unthinking obedience had been enough.
The two men were chatting about their plans for the evening, and Peaches listened with half an ear as she drifted in erotic reverie, waves of need and lust, drifting through her mind; she could have come with maybe a few more seconds’ groping. Sex isn’t about pleasing me, she reminded herself, her hips moving slowly, barely perceptibly, as she tried to get some friction from her crotch chain.
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Sorry this is a bit on the longer side of my stories. It’s mostly male on female sex with some hardcore futa on male at the end. I hope you enjoy. Please comment what you think below in the comment section. Also check out some of my other stories. The Landlord’s Pet and/or Life on the Ranch seems to be popular amongst the public.
Warped future Earth where women are NOT treated at all well
Back to the plot…. This what happens when you don’t leave comments….
A girl begins to wonder what’s going on at her high school
hello this is a sequel and i tried to take the comments into account and I’d love to get more for my next story in the series. but please, only constructive comments. dont tell me you hate and not why. ofcourse positibe comments are always welcome. thank you i hope you enjoy reading.
The Regime change
Mad Scientist becomes a God, then rapes women.
Twins Ally and Matt are captured and have some interesting experiments preformed on them
this is to help readers keep track of the many characters, places, and other information that may come up during the chapters of this story.
Hope you enjoy this chapter
Vampire Aliens Rape Nuns
What happens when Ahsoka’s mission to rescue Jabba’s son didn’t work out as planned?
Sorry for how short it is. If you like it feel free to give it the thumbs up. Also if you have any ideas for the story please leave a comment below!
Hope you enjoy the first part
Standard Disclaimer: If you are not at least 18 (or the age of majority in your jurisdiction), exit this window now. I will not be held responsbile for your disobedience. If you continue to read this story, its not my fault if you’re parents catch you and ground you for life. The following events occur only in my mind, and I do not condone anything illegal.
I’m a storyteller by birth, and therefore, I tell stories. My aim is to stimulate the mind as well as get the reader off. My personal philosophy when writing stories like this is simple: If I’m not excited by my own stories, then the reader won’t be either. Comments are welcome, criticisms are welcome, assholes are not. I deal with too many in my day to day life.
Steady, rhythmic slurping filled the locker room showers. The sound was pornographic and unmistakable to anyone who would have heard it. Had anyone been near enough, they would have immediately recognized the sounds of a wet sloppy blowjob in progress. Had their eyes borne witness, many would have been shocked. Because in the middle of the communal showers, the naked captain of the basketball team was passionately blowing another male student. This wasn’t just any student however. He was submitting himself to what some would describe as his mortal enemy, the person he had tormented from the first day of kindergarten all the way until last year, when he had punched him and left him with a black eye.
“Who’s the faggot now?”
“I am,” the jock replied, barely removing the cock from his glistening lips.
“Say it.”
“I’m a faggot.”
“You like sucking dick, don’t you?”
“I love it.”
“Look at me. Now say it.”
“I love sucking your cock.” As he spoke, his own engorged ebony rod – already throbbing with desire – gave a particuarly large jerk. The team’s captain hadn’t toucheed himself the entire time. In fact, his hands had been behind his back from the very start. It was simply the raw sexuality permeating the room that was holding his entire body under a hypnotic rapture.
“What are you going to do with my cum, fairy?”
“I’m gonna swallow it all.” His eyes hadn’t left the commanding gaze of the man he was blowing, and his erection gave another large bob. It was continually jumping to the rhythm of his accelerated heartbeat.
“I knew you were a faggot from the moment you called me one. Its called ‘projection.’ You take your own fears that you can’t face, and instead force them on someone else. But look at you now, huh? Butt naked, on your knees, sucking on my cock like its your last meal. Look at your dick. You haven’t touched yourself, but you’re dripping all over the place, ready to blow your load. You’re getting off on having me in your mouth, aren’t you? Just like you were meant to.”
It was true. The big ten incher dangling between the jock’s legs was drooling a steady stream of precum, the clear fluid pooling on the floor. The knob was swollen, shiny, and dark, the slit flaring open and closed. His testicles, normally heavy and drooping, had risen almost all the way up, eagerly awaiting the moment that they would jettison their heavy load. He was on the brink of orgasm, and even the slightest touch would be enough to set him off. A drop of water from his wet hair, a featherlight touch, a well-placed breeze –
“Don’t -” But it was too late. The captain needed his own release, and he needed it now. One of his large hands shot from behind his back and curled around his throbbing cock, combining physical stimulation with the sexual thrill of running his lips across the stiff flesh of another male’s sex organ. But what should have been the most powerful orgasm of the jock’s life went horrbily wrong when his meat deflated in his fist.
“-do it.” The jock tore his mouth from the organ in front of him with a mangled cry.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” he screeched. The sexual need was still there. The burning urge to unload his aching testicles still needed to be satisfied. Yet here he kneeled, still in shock, holding his long but flaccid – and most importantly, numb – dick.
“Its not what I did, Jerome. Its what you didn’t – and aren’t – doing. I told you; faggots don’t finish first. I warned you that if you touched yourself, you would be sorry.
“And I want to ask you a question. What were you doing when you got the grand idea to yank one off? Think about it, pussy. You aren’t blowing me, and you aren’t getting any pleasure. Seems pretty simple to me. Of course, what do I know, I’m just a faggot, huh? So, I guess I’ll just pull my pants up and find someone else to finish me off….”
Jerome stared in horror as the young man started pulling his pants and boxers back up, his spit-covered rod still erect. Horror that he wasn’t going to get to finish, and horror at the realization that he was right. Horror that his cock had no feeling. Horror that somehow, he liked sucking that thick fleshy piece of meat. Horror that he was actually eager to taste the semen. Horror that he needed that cock to cum in order to find his own release. Horror that now, there was no way that he could say, he was not a faggot. Because faggots got hard sucking dick, didn’t they? That’s how they got their pleasure.
“Wait.” Jerome’s voice was low and nearly inaudible. Part of him wanted to be heard; part of him wished that he hadn’t actually said anything. His tormentor slowed his pace.
“Did you say something?” The reply was slow, and filled with amusement.
“Please.” The dominant one smirked, confident in his superiority. The request was crystal clear. He almost wanted to make the larger boy say the words, but felt it unnecessary. Jerome had finally fallen. Both of them knew that.
“You know what to do,” the new master said as he stepped once more in front of his submissive. Jerome reached up with shaky hands and popped the button on the jeans. The zipper followed, leaving the still-hard eight incher to bulge out the front of the red and black boxers underneath. He pulled both down which allowed the stiff meat to dangle in his face.
“You’re fucking sick,” Jerome muttered as he wrapped his hot mouth around the cock.
“Yep. I’m sick.” The slurping was frenzied now. Jerome was practically fucking his face onto that cock, twisting his head left and right, pushing his tongue against the sensitive spots, trying to bring the beast down. He was a machine now, his own need for release driving him to give the best blowjob he could.
Brandon couldn’t believe it. Before, he had been getting off solely on the power he had over this self-proclaimed ‘alpha male,’ and his long overdue commuppance. But now, the suction alone was bringing him closer to the edge. Either Jerome had done this before (something he knew had not happened), or he was pulling every trick in the book that he could remember from having his own cock sucked. That mouth was powerful. It certainly wasn’t the best blowjob he’d ever recieved, but it was in the better half, without a doubt.
“Put your hands behind your back.” The submissive did as commanded, even going as far as to clasp his own wrists to prevent temptation. “Now look in my eyes.” He hesitated. “Do it now, fucker. Or you’ll regret it.” Jerome pulled his blank stare from the trimmed crotch and forced his eyes to meet Brandon’s. “That’s it, cum dump. Let me see your shame. Let me see your humiliation as you work for my load.”
It was there, painted on the big man’s face,. He had been an alpha male when he arrived here in every sense. He had the grades. He had the friends. He was the star player on the basketball team with schools tripping over one another to give him a free ride. He had a silver Acura waiting for him in the parking lot. He had one of the hottest girls on his arm, and sitting on his ten inch monster whenever he wanted. The very same cock that now stiffened between his legs, once again throbbing violently and ready to spew the contents of his ballsack at any moment.
He had fallen so far in hte past thirty minutes. Here he was now, knees aching as he knelt before this scrawny wretch who had somehow manged to best him without laying a finger on him. His lips, tongue, cheeks, and even throat were burning in agony from the repeated violation. His back, his body, and his mind hurt. But Jerome kept the powerful suction going because he was just that damn close. He was sitting on the edge of teh best cum of his life, and he knew it. Better than the first blowjob he’d recieved, better than losing his V-Card – hell – better than the first time his cock had pierced Danielle’s tight little starfish –
“I’m about to cum.” Relief flooded through the jock followed by confusion when the warm flesh was ripped from his mouth with a wet, slurpy pop.
“I’m gonna cum in your mouth, Jerome, and you’re going to swallow everything, aren’t you?” The jock nodded. “Everything you don’t eat, you will lick up, right?” Another nod. “While you’re eating my jizz, I want you watching my eyes. I want you to see what a real man looks like when he gets his nut.”
The younger boy stuffed his throbbing eight incher back into the hot mouth provided and began pumping. His hands were clasped behind Jerome’s head as he literally used the suctioning mouth to jerk himself off. Though the head was constantly pounding the back of his throat, Jerome kept his hands behind his back. He couldn’t believe it, but he was getting even higher off this merciless mouth rape. His piss slit was now wide open, precum flowing in a steady stream. His large balls were held tight against his body.
Brandon continued to hold Jerome’s gaze, and within ten strokes, the first ropes of cum began firing from Brandon’s cock. He resisted the urge to force himself balls deep into Jerome’s mouth, instead pulling out until only the head was resting on Jerome’s tongue. Being deepthroated would make things easy on Jerome. Brandon wanted him to taste his seed. One hand wrapped around his shaft as Brandon literally jerked off into Jerome’s mouth. Every throb, every spurt was heaven after forcing himself to wait six days for this one moment of revenge. And there was no doubt that it was worth it.
For his part, Jerome’s mind was nearly blank for the first time since the beginning of his ordeal. The moment that the first shot of semen was fired against the roof of his mouth, Jerome’s own cock began blasing rope after rope of his sticky fluid. His mind focused on three things alone: the mind-numbing, completely electrifying release of his orgasm, which was more than he could have imagined; eye contact with this Master, for he knew that he was the reason for the intensity of this orgasm; and not choking to death on this near-inhuman amount of cum flooding his mouth. Fat ropes were continually being ejected from Brandon’s root, and they weren’t slowing down. Jerome was swallowing it as fast as he could, but each rope was nearly a mouthful, and it had started spilling almost from the start.
His senses were filled with that cock and its life-giving load. Jerome could see at the bottom of his vision that chocolate rod extending from the groin and extending forth, disappearing under his nose and combining with the sensation of that meat stretching his lips and lying on his tongue, hot and shuddering and pumping out ropes of slimy liquid. He felt the goo slide down his esophagus and into his stomach, and could feel the excess flow freely from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, landing in sticky strings on his chest, stomach, and thighs. Jerome could smell the two aromas – both slightly chlorinated but very distinct – mingling together and filling his lungs. He could taste the salty, bitter, and slightly tangy flavor of the semen that coated his entire mouth and covered his pink tongue, still dancing lightly over the cock head in his mouth. He heard the hard, shuddering breaths from both of them as they endured their moments of ecstacy; heard every hard gulp he made as he sent another mouthful of jizz to his stomach.
After a good long minute, both orgasms finally died down. Jerome’s cock lurched one last time as the one in his mouth gave one final dribble before being pulled away. As the standing youth tucked himself back into his boxers and pulled up his pants, Jerome ran his tongue over his lips to clean up the leftovers. His cock gave a pleasurable throb as it slowly rose back to full mast, looking for all the world as if he had not experienced an orgasm at all. Jerome scraped, smeared, and finally outright began to slurp up the puddle of mixed jizz from the floor. His rapist turned back at the door and spoke.
“One more thing. If I were you, I wouldn’t think of trying to report me to anyone. No one’ll believe that a sturdy and capable young man like yourself got taken advantage of by a five foot seven, hundred and thirty pound wet blanket. So go ahead and save yourself the embarassment -” A particuarly enthusiastic slurp came from Jerome. “Well, more embarassment, I should say.”
Jerome heard and understood, but was too involved in riding this new sexual high to respond. He smeared as much of their mutual fluids on his cock and pounded his meat so a second powerful climax, shuddering hard as he collapsed to the floor.
Out in the darkened parking lot, Brandon Edwards horsed the engine of his 1978 Chevy Nova. Morally, what he had done tonight was wrong. Legally, it was rape. But he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would get away with it. There were no witnesses, and the only other witness would never breathe a word. Not from fear, Brandon knew, but from pride. People like Jerome couldn’t show weakness for fear of appearing to be weak. So he would suffer in silence.
Brandon had considered full advantage of Jerome, but ultimately decided against it. Brandon knew Jerome couldn’t have resisted, but after the act was finished, Jerome would have actually had evidence. It would have been too tempting for Brandon to simply force his way into Jerome’s rectum and leave behind a sticky deposit leaking from a ripped anus. Chances were that Jerome still wouldn’t have told, but Brandon wasn’t willing to leave evidence like that up to chance.
Brandon knew that he had changed the course of a life tonight. Jerome Sanders would never again experience the sexual pleasure he had that night, but he would spend the rest of his life on his knees, eating load after load of sperm in the hopes of finding it. It would kill the big man inside to do it, but he would do so anyway. Jerome would never be happy again, just as he had made Brandon’s life hell since the day they had met. No, Brandon had not changed a life tonight. He had ruined one, and he could not force himself to feel any sorrow.
‘Revenge isn’t always sweet,’ he thought as he eased out of the parking lot. ‘Sometimes, its salty.’
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