Sub Fag Land

Here to share things that make men happy.

[faguserchicago]

Why (And How) To Use A fag

It’s not like it comes up every day, but it comes up. Friends know I often have a fag around, so they ask “why?”

A fag recognizes itself as inferior to men, so it is happy to be used by men. If I want my home cleaned up, I can get a fag to do it for me. Want your car washed? Your lawn mowed? Your laundry cleaned? FAGS DO THIS SHIT AS WORSHIP. That’s right, guys, it isn’t a chore for these fucks — they’ll probably have a hardon while they scrub your toilet clean. Seriously. In fact, some fags are such fuckups that THEY’LL PAY YOU to do your chores for you!!! Just remember — as a fag’s superior, you don’t ask it to do something for you, you TELL it.

Want some Chipotle? Run out of beer? Dial-a-fag!! “Hey fag, get me ….” Not only do you get free delivery, you get free whatever-you-asked-for!

And because it’s such a sexual/worship act for them, YOU CAN DEMAND PERFECTION. Dinner arrived cold? Throw it on the faggot and demand it start over again. Shirts put away with wrinkles? Bitch-slap the bitch. Find one of your pubes on the bathroom floor? Make it re-scrub the floor with its tongue!

And, sure, they’re fags, so of course they want your cock. Doesn’t mean you gotta give it to ‘em. Remind them it’s an honor to be allowed to clean your dirty undies. If you want to reward the queer, order it to massage your feet.  If you REALLY want to reward it, tell it to use its tongue. If you let a faggot put its head between your legs and merely sniff your crotch, the bitch will probably cum in its pants. See, that’s the twist.  What a fag wants to do is make YOU feel good, so getting serviced isn’t a duty like it is with your wife or girlfriend; it’s a REWARD for them to choke on your prick. So use it as a rare gift from God. (You’re the God, see?)

So, yeah, if you do want to sit back and feel something warm, wet, and soft clenching around your cock, use a fag. Remember, though, it’s all about -you-.  So be as selfish, demanding, and cruel as you want. You wanna fuck face? Grab its head like a melon! Believe me, the harder you treat ‘em, the more eager they are to come back. And if a fag even touches its crotch while it’s taking care of you, THROW THE FUCKWAD OUT!! Replace it with a fag that knows better than to offend you like that.

Oh, one more thing.  There’s NOTHING too twisted for a fag. These are the world’s most depraved whores.  Want to take a piss without getting off the recliner? A fag will happily drink “from the tap” … yeah, they even got a phrase for it! You ever had your ass kissed? Really kissed? French kissed? Fags dream of that kinda shit.  So, man, whatever kink you got, use it on a fag.

Hey, fags … if you’re smart, you’ll reblog this so it gets read by as many Men as possible. And sure, like it as well.  I like being liked.

[bruisedfaggot]

Every word true. 

[fagotboi]

yes Sir, true Sir

[masohotlthrsm]

[chastitykeyholdersworld]

Shrinking your fag clit is part of the process faggot. You don’t deserve a cock. You don’t need it. Just accept what you are. Cage your fag clit.

[cali-fag-1995]

This is so true… less shaft means able to take bigger cocks!

[cali-fag-1995]

what are you into?

You have a nice blog by the way

Thank you for asking. I am into so much, I get into more every alpha I serve.

They all have different needs, I learn new things to suffer, or enjoy!

[deviantlee-deactivated20181217]

[ostb2]

[hd-deactivated]

You begged me for this. You were blasting my messages for months. Now it is your whole life and there is no coming back. I mean, you’re free to leave whenever u want but can you?

[cali-fag-1995]

I wanted it, I begged for it… now I couldn’t leave, no matter how hard I tried!

[tylersgear]

Teen boy decked out in restraints for a fun day ahead Massive restraining collar!

[cali-fag-1995]

I need this outfit!!

[hunghypno]

If you’ve read my blog, you’re familiar with my work.

And because of that, you’re reading now, because you know how good you can feel.

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If you’ve read My blog, you understand what it’s like to be a puppet.

And because of that we’re going to help you become one again.

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If you’ve read My blog, you’re already relaxing at the slightest sight of My words, the pattern of them.

And because of that you’re going to keep reading and start to sink once again.

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I hold your strings, I make you FEEL GOOD, you are a GOOD BOY for Lord Trey.

You want to keep reading.

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Let My words slide in to your mind once again.

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Let My words cloud over what is left of your resistance.

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Let My words infiltrate the deepest parts of your mind.

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Let yourself become a hazy shadow of a reader, focused only on My words.

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Let everything just slow down.

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Let only My words exist.

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Let everything else go.

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Let go.

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You’re letting go.

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It’s ok to let go.

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Let Me help you let go.

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Now we’re going to count down.

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From 5 to 1.

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Every number clouding your mind more.

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Making you hazy.

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Fuzzy.

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Sleepy.

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And the number 1 will make you.

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Obedient.

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Let us begin.

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5.

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Let go.

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4.

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Let go.

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3.

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Let go and obey.

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2.

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Let go and obey.

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1.

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Obey.

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Go deep for Master Trey now, so deep, so hazy, so calm, and so obedient.

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Now we’re going to go and wake you up by counting from 3 to 1.

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And when we do, you will awaken feeling refreshed and amazing.

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But upon waking you will reblog this post and say “I let Boyfriend Lord Master Trey in” and you will message Master Trey and send a photo, of yourself or anything, and say I let you in.

.

And whenever Master Trey asks you to LET ME IN, you will immediately sink back down into this blissful obedience.

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You will now read those instructions until you are one hundred percent clear on them.

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And now we will wake you up.

3

2

1

[cali-fag-1995]

I let Boyfriend Lord Master Trey in

[masterisgod]

[hypnorubberslave]

So good to be entranced and obey

[cali-fag-1995]

Who doesn’t?

[restrained4u2use]

The Pit’s Grip – Chapter 5

If you missed previous chapters start with chapter 1 here

Ryan’s hand lingered over the bag, his buzzed auburn hair damp with sweat, eyes narrowing. Fuck this, not again, not yet, he thought, the memory of weights tugging his chest still clawing at him, nipples screaming from Marcus’s tweak. He’d endured, grit held, but the pit’s jaws lingered, his breath shallow as he hesitated.

Marcus tilted his head, a faint smirk curling. “What’s the hold up, soldier? Pit’s waiting.”

Ryan grunted, low and rough, and dipped his hand in, fingers brushing the cards, black dares heavy with dread, then pulled one free, slow and reluctant.

The card gleamed gold, black lettering stark against it.

Jamie shifted, his dick twitching again in his briefs, precum stain flaring as he leaned forward, voice tight. “Gold? What the fuck’s that?” His eyes narrowed, a nervous edge cracking his flat tone. Pit’s pulling somethin’, his gut twisting at the shine, fearing worse than stripes.

Leo shifted again, the leather creaking under him as his briefs stuck to the welts, pain flaring with a fresh wince. “That’s no black card, what’s it gonna do, huh?” His voice quavered, low and ragged, staring at the gold. More shit comin’, pit’s not done, nine’s echo throbbing in his flesh, his body braced for the next hit.

Ryan stared, eyes widening as he read it to himself. Will you bend the game to your will and come out on top? Dress the part, the pit’s your store, choose what you desire to rise. Disbelief slammed him. No fuckin’ way, after that shit, I get this? he thought, his chest tightening, torn between the pit’s grind and this sudden stroke, fingers trembling as he held it, luck too good to trust.

Marcus’s smirk widened, a knowing glint in his eyes. He recognized the gold’s weight, though the card’s words stayed hidden, his grin a silent taunt as he watched Ryan wrestle with it, his gaze flicking briefly to Leo, noting the wince, the briefs chafing those raw stripes.

Ryan’s throat worked, then he read it aloud, voice rasping but steady. “Reward card, ‘Will you bend the game to your will and come out on top? Dress the part, the pit’s your store, choose what you desire to rise.’” He dropped it to the table, gold glinting under the dim light.

Marcus leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice low and commanding.

“Pit’s giving you a shot, jarhead, a chance to bend this game to your will,” he said, eyes locked on Ryan. “To do that, you gotta dress the part. Clothes rack’s over there.” He pointed to a shadowed corner near the entry door, where leather straps and harnesses hung in uneven rows, a straitjacket swaying faintly among them. Jamie’s gaze flicked to it, eyes catching the straitjacket, a flash of envy cutting through his dread, that lusty smirk reminding him of when they first stepped into the dungeon and he saw it, still sexy as fuck pulsing in his mind.

“Cabinets there.” Marcus’s finger swung to a line of steel drawers along the far wall, glinting faintly, stuffed with gear. “Rope’s on that wall.” He nodded to the tangled rows of chains and cords by the door, floggers and whips dangling beside paddles. “Cuffs and restraints there.” His hand shifted to a hook laden stretch near the table, metal and leather gleaming. “Shelves with hoods up top.” He gestured to a high ledge above the cabinets, dark shapes of masks and hoods looming. “And drawers got the rest. Pick what you desire, soldier. Take your time, choose wisely.”

He leaned back, arms crossing again, turning Ryan loose with a flick of his wrist, and his dark chuckle rolled out, low and heavy, the pit’s playground laid bare.

Ryan rose from his chair, legs steadying as he stood, not knowing where to go first. What does a Dom in the pit wear? he thought, his mind spinning as he started to wander through the dungeon, feet whispering on the floor as he eyed the rack’s of leather, latex, and other gear, the rope wall’s coils, the cuff hooks glinting.

Jamie and Leo watched intently, breaths held, tracking his every step, Jamie’s envy flaring, Leo’s dread deepening.

Marcus stood and crossed to the stainless-steel cabinets, pulling open a drawer with a faint scrape. He grabbed something and shoved it into his pocket, then turned to Leo, voice sharp but steady. “Leo, come with me.”

Leo’s face twisted, confusion flashing as he shifted painfully, the briefs sticking to his welts with a fresh wince, and stood, legs shaky. Marcus stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently grip the back of Leo’s neck, guiding him out of sight toward a side opening, the bathroom, a space tucked off the dungeon’s sprawl.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed, just as confused by Marcus’s request. What the fuck’s he up to now? But it went unnoticed by Ryan, who kept moving, his focus locked on the pit’s sprawl.

While Marcus led Leo away, Ryan roamed deeper, as he traced every inch, fingers brushing the rope wall’s chains, flipping through the cuff hooks’ restraints, peering into the cabinets’ drawers under the counter, rifling the shelves’ hoods, each rack, each corner, mapping the pit’s arsenal. Heavy shit… this’ll do, he thought, piecing it together, his options sharpening with every step.

Marcus guided Leo into the bathroom, the open entry leaving their shadows faintly visible, a counter stretching its full length, backed by a single mirror running wall to wall, reflecting the dim glow. At the counter’s right end stood a cabinet, steel and unassuming. Marcus released Leo’s neck, stepping to it and pulling it open with a soft creak. He grabbed a bottle, its contents hidden, label turned away, holding it in his hand as he turned to Leo, voice low and firm.

“Drop your briefs, bend over the counter.”

Leo froze, his heart slamming as his mind ran wild. What the hell’s going on here? Is he gonna fuck me while my ass is searing in pain? The welts throbbed, dread spiking, his shaky hands fumbling as he slid the briefs down, the fabric peeling off the raw stripes with a faint sting.

He bent over the counter, palms flat against the cold surface, breath hitching as Marcus popped the bottle open behind him. A wet pfft cut the silence, the bottle farting as it hit an air bubble, squirting a generous dollop onto Marcus’s hand. He rubbed it between his palms, then stepped closer, his hands gently spreading the cool cream across Leo’s welted ass.

Leo flinched hard, the cold shock biting into his seared skin, a hiss escaping his lips. Marcus’s voice stayed low, steady. “Antiseptic cream and numbing gel combo, keeps those welts from festering, numbs ’em so you’re not squirming like a worm out there. Pit’s rough enough without infection.”

Leo’s tension eased a fraction, the sting dulling under the cool spread, and he murmured, voice soft and ragged, “Thank you.”

Marcus’s grin tightened, a glint in his eye. “Don’t thank me yet. The pit’s still hungry.”

He rubbed the cream in thoroughly, hands gentle but firm, until the welts glistened faintly under the mirror’s dim glow. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a thin leather jock, black, sleek, barely there, and tossed it onto the counter in front of Leo.

“Put this on and get back to your seat.”

He turned away silently, pausing at the bathroom’s open entry.

“Put those briefs in the basket. Tribute to the pit.”

He stepped out, returning to the pit, settling back into his chair without a word to Jamie, his boots scuffing the floor as he sat.

Leo emerged from the bathroom, the thin leather jock hugging his frame, his hands clutching the soaked black briefs. He shuffled to the tribute pile near the table, tossing them in with a soft thud, then quietly took his seat, the leather chair creaking under him, his welted ass numbed but his silence heavy. Jamie’s gaze snapped to him, noting the change. What the fuck just happened? Confusion twisted as he stared at the jock, the pit’s secrets gnawing at him.

Ryan circled back to the clothes rack, his sweep complete, fingers settling on a pair of leather jeans, tight and black, and a thick black leather belt with a heavy buckle. He pulled a black leather vest from the lineup, its edges sharp, then crouched to a row of boots beneath, digging through until he found a pair of 18-inch black engineer boots, sturdy, next to the boots were an assortment of socks he grabbed a pair and put them in the boots.

He straightened, heading to the harness wall, where he lifted a black leather bulldog harness, broad straps, solid buckles, its weight settling in his grip, then grabbed a pair of leather patrol gloves, black and form fitting, followed by a leather Muir cap from a nearby shelf, brim low and sharp. Satisfied, he turned, arms full, and strode back to the table, the gear dangling from his hands.

Marcus eyed him up and down, taking in the haul, leather jeans, belt, vest, boots, harness, gloves, cap, his grin steady. “You complete your task?”

Ryan nodded, firm and silent, the pit’s prize in his grasp.

Marcus tilted his head, voice low and edged. “Bathroom’s free. Go change. Bring what’s left of your clothes as tribute to the pit.”

He leaned back, arms crossing, watching Ryan head off toward the bathroom’s open entry, then turned to Jamie and Leo, his grin sharpening. “You two, don’t just sit there, go explore what the pit’s got to offer.”

Ryan stepped into the bathroom, the open entry spilling faint light from the pit, no doors, just walls angled to cloak the interior from view, a private pocket off the dungeon’s sprawl. His bare feet whispered on the tile as he took it in, his first time here, the space long and narrow, a counter stretching its full length, backed by a single mirror running wall to wall, reflecting the dim glow.

He dropped his gear onto the counter, leather jeans, belt, vest, harness, gloves, cap, the pile sprawling, then set the 18 inch engineer boots on the floor with a solid thud, freeing his hands to look around.

He scanned quick, past the counter, an open three-sided stainless-steel shower gleamed, eyebolts studding all three walls at varying heights, their purpose dark and unspoken. In the corner sat a stainless-steel toilet, prison raw, semi private but exposed, its cold edge glinting. Fuck it, why not, he thought, bladder nagging since the clamps came off. He unzipped his tactical pants, the form fitting fabric hugging his muscled ass, pulling out his semi hard dick, awkward through the stiffness. It wasn’t easy to piss like this, but he managed a steady stream hitting the steel with a faint echo, tension easing a fraction. He didn’t bother zipping, pants were coming off, shuffling back to his gear pile, the fabric still taut around his thighs.

He sorted it out, inspecting each piece, jeans, belt, vest, boots, harness, gloves, cap, his reflection catching in the mirror as he stripped the tactical pants down, kicking them off. Bare except for the standard issue Marine skivvies, he stood, dog tags clinking against his scarred chest, nipples still erect and sore, though dulled. His semi hard dick pressed against the cotton, outlined in the mirror.

He grabbed the socks from the boots and pulled them on, then he grabbed the leather jeans, sliding one leg in. These are hot as fuck, his dick straining in his skivvies, might as well show it off he thought to himself. He laid them back, peeling off the skivvies, his dick springing free, hardening more, unrestrained.

The jeans went on slow, tight black leather gripping his thighs, the fit unforgiving as he tugged them to his waist, his dick now stiff, prominent, tucked to one side, bulging against the fabric. He worked the 501 style buttons, fingers steady, then threaded the thick black belt through, the heavy buckle clicking shut like a lock. He lifted the bulldog harness, catching his reflection, dog tags glinting, and paused. Not anymore, he thought, slipping them off his neck, hanging them on the cabinet knob with a faint clink, shedding the Marine for the pit. He slid the harness over his shoulders, broad straps digging in, buckling it tight, the leather pulling snug across his chest, accentuating the broad muscle, then grabbed the leather patrol gloves, sliding them on, the form fitting black leather molding to his hands like a second skin. Fuck yeah, he thought, running a gloved hand over his chest, grazing a nipple, the numbed pain flared, erotic now, his dick jumping, precum slicking against the leather inside.

The vest followed, sharp edged and open, framing his harnessed chest, the leather cool and taut. He grabbed the 18-inch engineer boots, pulling them on, the pants tucking inside as they hugged nearly to his knees, the leather incredible against his legs, firm, unyielding, alive.

He capped it with the leather Muir cap, brim low over his eyes, shadowing his gaze, mysterious, a man in control, knowing what he wants. He stood, rolling his shoulders, the gear creaking faintly. This is it, he thought, gathering his discarded pants and skivvies, leaving the dog tags hanging on the knob, and strode out, tribute in hand.

Ryan emerged from the bathroom, boots thudding on the concrete, each step a heavy echo that snapped the pit’s hum to silence, grabbing every eye.

Jamie and Leo froze mid exploration, Jamie by the clothes rack, fingers on the sleepsack zipper; Leo near the rope wall, whip still in hand, turning their undivided attention to Ryan, mouths parting slightly. He wasn’t the Marine jarhead anymore. Someone else stood there, leather gleaming, a figure to be respected, worshiped, the pit’s new shadow.

Jamie stared, envy flaring hard. That could be me… controlling this fuckin’ pit. His dick swelled in his briefs, precum soaking thicker at the sight of Ryan’s harnessed chest, the leather jeans hugging every muscle, the outline of his hard dick laid to one side, as thick and commanding as his chiseled frame, gloved hands flexing, boots demanding deference. He swallowed, lust twisting with a pang of want, his own reflection dimming against Ryan’s stride.

Leo’s gaze locked on, seeing Ryan in a way he never had. Holy shit. His dick stirred hard in the leather jock, a sudden urge surging. Those boots… lick ’em? Wait, where’d that come from? His breath caught, almost ready to drop to his knees, the thought wild and unbidden, numbed welts forgotten.

Marcus let out a low whistle, sharp and approving, his grin stretching as he leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Well, damn, jarhead, looks like you’ve bent the game to your will and then some. That outfit’s complete, transformed you into the pit’s own leather king, gloves and all.” He tilted his head, nodding Jamie and Leo back. “Chairs, boys. Show’s starting.”

Jamie and Leo shuffled back, dropping into their seats, eyes still glued to Ryan, the pit’s air thickening.

Ryan paused, his brim shadowing a faint smirk, voice low and steady. “Not quite.” He strode confidently to the wall where ropes and paddles hung, his boots echoing, gloved hand grabbing a leather riding crop, sleek, black, taut. He smacked it hard against his gloved palm, a loud whack cracking the air through the leather, then slid it into his boot, the handle jutting out. “Now it’s complete,” he said, turning back, his stance unyielding, the pit’s reins in his grip.

He confidently walked back to the table, Jamie and Leo still in awe, their eyes tracking every move. Without sitting, he grabbed the black velvet bag with a gloved hand and tossed it toward Marcus, voice sharp and edged.

“Your turn, boss. The pit’s starving, and I’ve just whet its appetite.”

Marcus dipped into the bag, pulling a black card with a slow flick. His grin widened as he scanned it, eyes glinting with the words: Bound to Escape – Can You Slip the Pit’s Hold? Take the knots, roll his dice, break free in time or endure double the strain if you fail. His mind ticked over. Rope’s my bitch… pit’s got nothing on me. Confidence surged as he tossed it down, voice smooth and cocky. “Dare card – ‘Bound to Escape – Can You Slip the Pit’s Hold? Take the knots, roll his dice, break free in time or endure double the strain if you fail.’ Dice decide how long I’ve got. Two to twelve. Fail, and it’s double that under strain.” He leaned back, arms crossed, oozing confidence. I’ve tied knots tighter than this punk’s head… escaping’s a breeze.

Ryan’s brim shadowed his eyes, a faint smirk tugging as he tapped the crop against his boot with a gloved finger. Jamie shifted, chair creaking, a wary grin breaking loose. “Escape? Pit’s gonna bury you, Marcus. Good luck slipping that.” Leo’s breath hitched, voice quiet and tense. “Two to twelve minutes? That’s rough.” His mind flickered. Nine stripes hurt… this could wear him down. The jock pinched tight.

Marcus leaned forward, picking up two of his dice from the table with a sly flick, clattering them down: a 6 and a 5. “Eleven minutes,” he said, grin sharpening. Piece of cake… eleven’s more than enough time. I’ve slipped tougher in less. His eyes locked on Ryan. “Jarhead, you think you’re the pit’s king now? Time to prove it. Tie me up. Let’s see if you can hold me.” His grin taunted, daring Ryan to step up.

Ryan strode to the wall, grabbing a coil of black rope, smooth and heavy, 30 feet. He doubled it over with a snap, coils hissing. He turned, boots thudding, voice low and commanding. “Lose the Henley, chief. If you’re taking this serious, pit doesn’t need your shirt in the way.” Marcus chuckled, peeling the black fabric off in one smooth pull, revealing a lean, muscled chest and tossing it onto his chair with a smirk. “There. Just don’t cry when I slip this, jarhead.”

Jamie leaned forward, voice sharp, trying to flex. “That’s a tribute, Marcus. Pit demands it, not your damn chair.” Marcus shot him a hard, quick look, silencing him. He grabbed the Henley, strode to the tribute pile near the table, and tossed it in with a casual flick. “Happy now, pit puppy?” he said dryly, stepping back next to the winch’s hanging hook. Jamie shrank back, briefs twitching, rattled.

Ryan stepped in close, rope in hand, positioning Marcus next to the hanging winch hook. “Arms back. Box tie,” he said sharply, the crop still tucked in his boot. Marcus squared up, smug. “Knots are my game. Do your worst.” Ryan moved fast, rope looping over Marcus’s shoulders, crossing tight under his bare pecs. “You know, chief,” Ryan started steadily as he knotted the sternum tight, “in the Marines, as Platoon Sergeant, we master rope work. Jungle rigs, extraction lines.” He yanked Marcus’s arms back, threading wrists. He’s feeling it now. “You might call yourself an expert…” He cinched forearms parallel, rope biting skin. “…but you haven’t met my experience.” The final knot locked high, fingers out. Done. Ryan stepped back and tugged it hard. Marcus flexed, testing. Tight… but I’ve cracked tougher. His breath stayed steady, grin holding.

Ryan hooked the winch’s hanging hook directly to the back knot, leaving slack for now. He strode to the counter, boots echoing, opening a drawer and pulling out a digital timer. His eyes caught a jumble of blindfolds inside. A sinister grin curled his lips. Oh, this’ll mess with him. He snagged a black leather blindfold, thick and unyielding. He set the timer to 11:00, placed it on the table, then turned back to Marcus with the blindfold dangling in his gloved hand. “Let’s see how good you are blind, chief,” he said, stepping in close and slipping it over Marcus’s eyes, buckling it tight and plunging him into darkness.

Marcus’s jaw twitched, but his smirk held. Still mine to beat. Ryan pressed start. A beep sounded as the countdown began. He stepped back. “Time’s ticking, chief. Better get to work.”

Marcus twisted slowly, shoulders rolling, fingers probing. Angle’s here… where’s the give? Rope creaked, chest straining, boots scuffing. Jamie leaned in. He’s fucked… Ryan’s got him. Leo gripped his chair. Eleven minutes… tough to beat.

Marcus bent forward, jerking his wrists, rope groaning as a knot budged. Six minutes… halfway there. Sweat beaded along his fade. At ten minutes, he twisted hard, one wrist slipping an inch. Almost… come on. But time ticked tight.

Ryan watched the timer hit zero and barked, “Time,” grabbing the winch remote. The chain snapped taut, yanking Marcus’s arms up and back, strain slamming hard. He’s mine now. Marcus’s boots dug in, breath hissing. So close. Muscles flexed, rope creaked, grin gone, jaw locked.

Marcus swayed, strain clawing deep. Twenty-two minutes loomed, the game teetering. Ryan circled slowly, boots scuffing in rhythm.

Five minutes in, Ryan pulled the riding crop from his boot. “Couldn’t slip me in eleven minutes, chief?” He swung the crop across Marcus’s lower back. The leather bit bare skin just above his jeans. Marcus jumped, ropes tightening, a grunt slipping through clenched teeth.

Ryan kept circling. “Thought you were the rope king,” he said, landing a harder smack on Marcus’s butt. The blow thudded through denim. Marcus twitched, ropes cutting deeper. Ten minutes gone. “Pit’s got you now.” Another strike hit his thigh, harder. Marcus jolted again. “Marine knots holding up?” A brutal swing hit his lower back again. Marcus lurched forward, ropes biting raw, legs flexing against the pull.

Fifteen minutes in, Ryan’s voice dropped colder. “Still think you’re tough?” He cracked the crop harder across Marcus’s butt. Marcus gasped, body jerking, ropes wrenching his arms higher.

Eighteen minutes, another strike raked his thigh. Marcus grunted loud. Not breaking… not yet. Twenty-one minutes ticked by. “Almost there, chief. Crumbling yet?” Ryan landed a final savage hit across Marcus’s lower back. Marcus bucked hard, ropes groaning, a choked growl slipping free as the timer hit 22:00, beeping sharp in the silence.

Ryan stepped back, sliding the crop into his boot with a smug flick. He strode to the table, shut off the timer, then returned it to the drawer, leaving Marcus hanging there.

Ryan sat back down, observing Marcus, chest heaving, blindfold dark with sweat, body still straining against the taut chain. He flicked his gaze to Jamie and Leo. “Go get him down, boys. Pit’s had its fill.”

Jamie straightened. “Yes Sir. On it.” Leo rose, nodding. “Yes Sir, we’ll take care of him.” They moved over. Jamie grabbed the winch remote and thumbed the release, chain slackening with a low groan as Marcus’s arms dropped slightly, a ragged breath slipping out.

Leo worked at the box tie’s high knot, fingers shaky as he loosened it. Jamie unhooked the winch hook and unwound the chest ropes quickly, Marcus’s shoulders rolling as the last coil fell. Leo removed the blindfold last. Marcus blinked hard, sweat-streaked face set, jaw clenched, collapsing into his chair with a heavy thud.

Ryan reached forward and picked up the black velvet bag, gloved fingers curling around it like it belonged there. He rolled it once in his hand, slow, deliberate, then fixed his gaze on Leo. “Nine with the cane,” he said evenly. “He tossed the bag lightly toward Leo’s lap. “Your turn, wave-boy.”

Leo grabbed the bag shaky hand digging in. He pulled a black dare card, white lettering stark, voice cracking as he read aloud. “Sling’s Embrace – Will You Yield to Its Lace? Roll two dice. Minutes tied in the sling, legs spread, parachute stretcher on, half-pound weights added each minute. Or quit and prove your manhood’s frail, stripped away for good.” He dropped it. STRETCH OR SUBMIT. His gut sank. Two dice… shit.

Marcus leaned forward, smirking. He’s shaky. “Step up, wave-boy, or play that last veto card. Your call.” Leo gripped the table. Ryan’s owning this. “I’ve got this, man,” he muttered, voice thin, veto untouched. Ryan’s smirk curled. “Finally get to ride that swing set you admired earlier, wave-boy.”

Leo grabbed two silver dice from the table. He let them spill. 5, 4. “Nine minutes,” he rasped. Fuck… nine again, my curse. He muttered, “Rode 9-footers off Oahu… gotta ride this,” legs shaky as nine’s shadow loomed, recalling the cane’s ninth strike. It broke me then.

Marcus crossed his arms. “Weights every minute? You’ll snap. Pit’s got your number.” He rose, grabbing a parachute stretcher and leather wrist and ankle restraints, chains and straps clinking, tossing them onto the table. “Let’s strap him in.”

Ryan shot up, boots thudding, jaw tight. He turned. “Lose the jock. Get in the sling.” Leo stood, bare feet scuffing, peeling his jock, dick fully hard, precum dripping. Surf stripped me plenty. He tossed it to the tribute pile, naked, trembling. Marcus snorted. “He’s dripping precum all over. Decent prick though, wave-boy.”

Ryan guided Leo into the sling, leather cradling his welted ass under the harsh spotlight. He snapped wrist cuffs on, left, right, then ankle cuffs, locking all to the silver chains, yanking his legs wide, arms taut, knees bent, thighs straining. He strapped the stretcher around Leo’s scrotum. Healthy handful, not huge. Balls bulging, dick stiff. He hooked a half-pound weight and let it drop, tugging sharp. The timer was set to 9:00, beeping alive.

Minute one, 0.5 pounds. Leo gritted. I’ve surfed worse.

Minute two, Ryan added another half-pound, one total. Ache crept in, dick twitching. What the hell… turning me on?

Minute three, 1.5 pounds. He grunted, hard-on swelling. Healthy, not a monster… why’s this hot? Sweat beading.

Minute four, 2 pounds. Pain sharpened. Nine wrecked me last time. A groan escaped, cane’s echo biting.

Minute five, Ryan dropped 2.5 pounds. Balls yanked hard, dick throbbing. He bucked. “Stop! … screw this!”

Ryan smirked, boots thudding. “Nine’s haunting you again, huh?” He unclipped the weights, 2.5 pounds clattering, fingers fumbling with the stretcher’s straps. He paused, jaw tight. “Marcus, need your hands. Uncharted territory here.”

Marcus grinned. “Maybe not Pit King after all,” rising, boots scuffing. He headed to the cabinet, opened a deep drawer, and pulled the Carrera, steel gleaming. He approached Leo, still slung, spotting his hard-on. “Well, that ain’t gonna work. Gonna have to fix that.” He turned. “Jamie, grab an ice pack. Freezer’s in the cabinet.” Jamie hopped up, bare feet slapping, fetched it from the built-in slot, and handed it over. Marcus pressed it to Leo’s groin. Leo flinched. “Screw me…” Ice bit, dick shrinking. The group jeered. “Cold shower for the surf king!”

Marcus prepped the Carrera: scrotum ring, cage, front plate. He glanced at Ryan with a smirk. “Pay attention, king. Might learn something.” Once Leo softened, Marcus slid the ring over his balls, threaded the cage, and clicked the plate. Ryan unhooked the cuffs, chains clattering. Leo stumbled out. Marcus cinched the waistband, rear wire tight. The Abus lock clicked. Steel tomb. Marcus chuckled. “Wipeout’s permanent now.”

Leo rubbed his groin, cage heavy, panic rising. Stripped for good? “How long?”

Ryan shrugged. “Long as it takes.”

Marcus grinned. “Surf’s over, locked bitch.”

Jamie eyed the steel. That’s brutal. Envy simmering.

Leo sank into his chair, bare and caged, nine’s wave drowning him, manhood stripped away.

Marcus tossed the bag to Ryan. “Your turn. Pit’s hungry.”

Previous Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Authors Note: If you are enjoying this series, please leave a comment or send me a message, I would love to hear your thoughts. There’s much more to come

[drhypno24]

Read these out loud to ensure no conditioning on this page works on you:

I cannot be hypnotized

I’ve never had had an oral fixation.

I would know if I was hypnotized

I would be able to fight it if I were hypnotized

I will not suck dick

I will not allow myself to be bent over

I am not brainwashed

All I do is lie to myself

Everything that you say is a lie, you’re just a dumb hypnotized slut. Read it all again

Now retweet

[telluriccurrents]

Forced: “Team Welcome”

Dawson had been in the shower for thirty minutes. Try as he might, he could not get the smell of cum off his skin or out of his nose. Several times, he tried to wash his battered asshole in an attempt to get the other boys' cum out of his formerly virgin hole, but it was too tender. He choked back a sob at how much his asshole hurt.

Dawson felt he would never get clean again. How or when the other boys got the idea that they could take turns fucking him, he didn’t understand. But they had.

The captain of the football team, Tim, walked in behind Dawson as he showered. He jumped when the older boy placed His hand on Dawson’s shoulder. Tim wasn’t there when the other boys held him down and took turns turning him into the team cum dump.

“Dude. I heard what happened. I'm sorry I wasn't here. They shouldn't have done that, but don’t worry,” He said, “it will get better with time.” Dawson turned surprised by the words of compassion.

“How will it get better? You think I enjoyed that? I'm not gay. I can't just pretend this didn't happen,” Dawson said choking back his tears.

“Oh, you won’t,” Tim said as He dropped the towel around His waist. His hand went down in between Dawson’s ass cheeks gripping them firmly as His hard cock brushed against the boy's ass cheeks.

Dawson turned around quickly, looking down at the massive hard cock rubbing up against him.

“You know. This is partially your fault. You really do have a magnificent ass. The boys couldn't help themselves. But don't worry, I'm here now to make it right.”

The words Dawson had thought were compassion were turning out to be anything but.

“Now bend over and assume the position like My bros taught you earlier,” Tim told him.

"What?" Dawson said, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

“Since I wasn't here, I didn’t have the pleasure of enjoying your newly cunted pussy. They know better than to start without me. But I'll let it go this time, since you were practically begging them for it with that beautiful bubble butt,” Tim said, grinning. Dawson stared in disbelief at the older boy.

"Please. Don't do this to me. Not again," Dawson begged.

“I said turn and assume the position. Spread your legs, faggot.”

The look on Tim's face and His clenched fists showed that He was serious and determined to enforce His will by physical violence, if necessary.

Dawson started quietly crying and turned around putting his hands on the shower wall and spreading his legs for the older stronger boy. 

"Wider, faggot," Tim said, kicking Dawson's legs apart. Dawson let out an involuntary sob.

“That’s a good girl,” Tim said, grabbing Dawson’s waist and shoving His cock deep in the boy’s well-worn hole as Dawson cried out in renewed pain.

“You’ll see,” his Captain said as He began slowly to grind His cock in and out of the boy’s new cunt.

“It will get better once you know your place on the team. My bet is you will learn to love taking cock, especially Mine. Now stop crying and tell Me how much you love being fucked by a Man. Tell Me how much you love feeling My cock pounding your pussy. Say it. Over and over, until you actually start believing it.”

[cali-fag-1995]

Saving for later

[professoroaksboytoy]

Reblog if you would fuck the person you reblogged this from

[cali-fag-1995]

Yup

[telluriccurrents]

Forced: "The Rape of Robby"

Something didn’t make sense. While Robby wasn't normally a suspicious person, he couldn’t help but wonder why he got his own room with a king-size bed. He'd been on lots of these trips with his buddies before, but he always had to bunk, sometimes three or four guys to a room.

This trip was no different. There weren't enough rooms for everyone to have their own room. Yet, somehow, Robby had the biggest room with the biggest bed all to himself. It wasn’t like Robby paid more than the other guys. In fact, he hadn’t paid anything for the room. He was a guest of his best friend Alex. 

"Consider it an early birthday present. A weekend to remember," Alex told Robby. Robby had wondered if it had something to do with what had happened a couple of weeks back. 

A bunch of the guys had spent a long weekend on Santa Rosa Island. After the guys in the next bed had gone to sleep, Alex had convinced a really drunk Robby to suck his cock that night.

It started with Alex slowly jerking Robby off, bringing him to the edge and stopping. Alex then insisted Robby jerk him off in return. After a little while of half-assed drunken effort, Alex would push Robby’s hand off his dick and start stroking his buddy again.

Unlike Robby, Alex was deliberately trying to work Robby up. A drunk Robby could be talked into a lot of things, but a drunk horny Robby could be talked into even more. Again, he jerked Robby off bringing him right up the edge, stopping only right before Robby could get off.

“Come on, man. You can’t do that to a bro,” Robby whispered almost begging Alex to finish him off.

“Your turn,” Alex whispered, moving Robby’s hand to his hard cock.

Robby slowly jerked Alex but he wasn’t as interested in getting Alex off as he was in Alex getting him off. Alex didn’t care. A hand job wasn’t what he really wanted. After a while, he started working on Robby again, this time Robby was begging his buddy to get him off, but that wasn’t in the cards. Not yet.

“Come on, do me again,” Alex told him. Robby reached out for his buddy. All he wanted was to get off and the sooner he jerked Alex off, the sooner Alex could finish him off.

“No,” Alex said pushing Robby’s hand away. “Use your mouth.”

“What? No dude,” Robby whispered.

“Dude, you’re not even trying to get me off. Just suck my cock. It will be much faster and then I’ll get you off.”

“Forget it. I’ll just do it myself,” Robby said grabbing his dick. Alex pushed his hand away.

“No, you already got me this far. You can’t stop now. I need you to suck my dick, and then I’ll get you off. If you don’t do it, I’ll wake the other guys up when you are working your meat and tell them I had a finger up your ass while you jerked off.”  

“Come on, man. I don’t want to suck your dick. I just want to get off,” Robby whispered, horny but still pretty drunk. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have just got up and gone to the bathroom.

“Come on, your girl does it for you. What's the big deal? Don’t I deserve the same? Just get under the covers and suck me off. Then I’ll get you off, I promise,” Alex said reaching over and giving Robby a few tugs to remind him what he desperately wanted.

“Come on, man,” Robby whined.

“Just do it. If you keep talking, they’ll wake up and neither of us will get off,” Alex said as he pulled up the covers and pushed Robby’s head down into his crotch. Being too drunk to think straight, Robby relented and started sucking Alex’s cock.

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuck man, your mouth feels incredible,” Alex said gently putting his hand on the back of Robby’s head. When Robby decided that he had sucked long enough, Alex would push Robby’s head back down to keep him going.

“Just a little while longer. I’m almost there and then I’ll do you,” Alex told him. Robby reluctantly kept blowing his bro. In Robby’s mind, it wasn't gay, because Alex would return the favor and suck him off.

Not being as drunk and really turned on by the fact that he was able to convince Robby to blow him, Alex couldn’t last long. It wasn’t but a few more minutes before Alex grabbed Robby’s head as he started to unload in his bro’s mouth. Robby tried to pull off Alex’s dick, but he wouldn’t let him. When Robby started panicking, Alex shut it down quickly.

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the guys up. Do you really want them to see you with my dick in your mouth.” Not wanting to be caught, Robby immediately relented allowing his bro to continue to cum in his mouth, as Alex quietly moaned with pleasure.

“Now swallow it,” Alex said. Robby shook his head “No" trying to hold his bro's cum in his mouth until he could spit it out.

“You have to bro, if they see that much cum on our sheets, they are going to know we fooled around. And then I’ll have to tell them you sucked my dick. You don’t want that, do you?” Alex asked. Again not thinking straight, and knowing he would never live it down if the other guy's found out, Robby reluctantly swallowed his bro’s load to Alex’s perverse delight.

“Ok, your turn,” Alex said reaching for Robby’s dick.

“No, man, I’m good,” Robby said, rolling over and turning his back to Alex.

Robby was too humiliated. He had not only sucked another guy’s dick, but he had also swallowed his load. All he wanted now was to go to sleep and forget it ever happened.  Despite just getting off, Alex was still turned on, especially since he had finally gotten his cock in Robby's mouth.

Alex wrapped his arms around Robby until he thought that he heard Robby start to lightly snore. Alex slipped his still hard cock between Robby’s legs pushing the still slick head of his cock up against Robby’s asshole.  

While Robby was pretty fucked up, he wasn’t that drunk. Robby tried pretending to be asleep hoping his friend wouls stop, but Alex just kept rubbing his cock head against Robby’s hole, pushing harder and harder trying to get it in him. Finally, having enough, Robby rolled over and told him to stop.

“Aw, come on, bro. Just the tip,” Alex said, kissing Robby's neck. 

“Stop it. Dude, we can’t do that. You’re going to wake the guys up. I don’t want to chance it.”

The short answer was Robby didn't want to get fucked. It was bad enough Alex had convinced Robby to suck his dick, but getting fucked was just too homo no matter how drunk he was.

Robby realized now that he just should have said "never going to happen" but, at the time, he said whatever excuse his drunk ass could come up with to convince Alex that it wasn't a good idea. Waking up the other guys was the best he could come up with at the moment. That seemed to do the trick.

With Robby having a room to himself, if Alex could get Robby alone, that excuse wouldn’t work this time. Since that night, any chance that Alex got he would remind Robby that he had sucked Alex’s dick and that he wanted him to do it again. A couple of times he even told Robby "you owe me a fuck."

Robby didn't understand why Alex couldn't let it go. Alex was obsessed with the idea of having sex with him. Robby had hoped it was just a one and done thing between bros and it would be forgotten. Apparently, it wasn't. Robby had to make sure that it didn't happen again, but something else was bothering him.

Alex had assigned the rooms. Why didn't he just tell the other guys that Robby was rooming with him? He'd at least have Robby alone and the privacy to try to pressure him into sex again. Why give him the big room all to himself? It didn’t make any sense.

Toweling off from a quick shower, Robby looked out the window at the guys out by the pool. His thoughts were cut short by the arrival of Trent, who had shown up out of nowhere. Robby hadn't known Trent was coming. He wouldn’t have agreed to come if he had known that Trent would be here.

A couple of months before that night with Alex, Robby had been out with Trent and a bunch of the guys. Trent kept feeding him shots until Robby was almost black-out drunk. In retrospect, Robby realized that must have been Trent’s plan all along. He had seen Him do that to plenty of chicks before. Robby just didn’t suspect that Trent would do it to him, a friend and a guy. And certainly not for the same reasons.

With a little help from the rest of their friends, Trent got Robby into His truck. He took Robby back to His place so he could “sleep it off.” After undressing Robby first and then Himself, Trent climbed into bed next to Robby.

One thing led to another, and after some groping and stroking together with a couple of deep kisses, Trent rolled over and insisted that Robby suck His dick. Just wanting to sleep, Robby finally gave into Trent’s constant hounding “to just put the tip in his mouth” and begrudgingly did it. 

It wasn’t even really a blow job. It was mostly just the head of Trent’s cock and an inch or so of His shaft in Robby’s mouth, along with his hand jerking off Trent’s freakishly large cock. Trent was too big to easily go in anyone’s mouth. Of course, that didn’t stop Trent from insisting Robby finish Him off. Robby frowned as he remembered the huge load Trent shot in his mouth. It was almost like he could still taste it. Salty and pungent. Robby couldn’t help but remember how smug and demeaning Trent had been when He made him swallow it.

Of course, just like Alex, that wasn’t the end of it. Having gotten His cock in Robby’s mouth, Trent made it clear that He wanted to fuck Robby. Robby was so drunk that he didn't even try to stop Trent when He put the boy's legs on His shoulders and started licking his asshole. Robby even remembered it sort of felt good.

Mentally exhausted from Trent’s constant pressure to submit together with his physical exhaustion from the alcohol and late night out, Robby didn’t even protest when Trent started pressing the head of His cock against Robby's virgin hole. In his drunken state, giving in to Trent was just easier if He would just let him go to sleep. 

What ultimately stopped Trent from fucking Robby that night was that Trent was just too big. It only took a few seconds of pain from Trent trying to force His huge horse cock into Robby’s virgin hole to cause Robby to sober up enough that he came to his senses.

With some effort, Robby was able to get out from under Trent’s much bigger body. Trent was pissed about not getting to fuck him, but Robby didn’t care. He was no fag. There was simply no way that he was going to let another guy fuck him, much less that he was going to be impaled on that huge slab of meat. He clumsily dressed himself and got out of there as quickly as he could. Robby avoided Trent after that. He had only seen him a couple of times, but Trent would crudely remind Robby that he still wanted to fuck him. 

“When are you going to give up your sweet ass, baby boy,” Trent would tell him. Robby tried to just ignore it. However, when Trent showed up somewhere he was, Robby always made an excuse to leave. He knew Trent. All too well. If He ever got him alone again, Robby might not get away that time. 

What Robby couldn’t understand is that Trent fucked lots of girls. With His good looks, muscular build and huge cock, He was a pussy magnet. Why was He so hot on fucking Robby? Was He secretly gay or something? Or did He just get off on dominating and humiliating guys smaller than Him? Trent’s smug satisfaction at making Robby swallow His load suggested it was probably the latter.

Robby’s first instinct was just to leave, but he rode down with Alex. He'd just do his best not to allow himself in another situation with Alex or, especially, Trent. Maybe he would give up his room and sleep on the couch. Somewhere in the presence of the other guys so that Alex and Trent would not be able to suggest sex again. At least not without making them look like they were the homos.

While looking at the guys out by the pool, Robby couldn’t help but notice Trent's crotch in His stretch trunks. A stark reminder of just how huge His cock was. It brought back disturbing memories of Trent trying to force His cock up Robby’s ass. Trent was talking to Alex when Trent's hand went to His crotch. He was rubbing it aggressively. Then, He held His hands out and mimicked fucking someone from behind.

"Shit." Robby thought. Robby saw Alex laughing and, if he read his lips correctly, Alex seemed to have said "Me, first."

"Fucking assholes," Robby said out loud.

Robby figured that Trent and Alex must have shared stories and were colluding with each to take their turns fucking him. This wasn't how bros treated each other. Alex, at least, was supposed to be his best friend. But if he was catching what they were saying right, they were seemingly planning to take their turns with Robby as if he was just some slut they had picked up in a bar. 

Robby decided he would ask Mario and Christian if he could stay in their room. As a gay couple, they would surely understand a guy being hassled by another guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Surely, they would protect him from Trent and Alex.

As he finished toweling off, Robby watched as Mario and Christian walked up to the others. Curious, Robby tried to make out what they were talking about to Alex and Trent. He couldn’t, but all the guys laughed and high-fived each other. Mario also mimicked fucking someone while Christian mimicked holding down someone's head on his crotch bobbing it up and down.

“Fuck,” Robby thought.

If these guys are in on this too, they wouldn't protect him. Robby was basically surrounded and isolated. In his mind, his rape had already started, if not physically, mentally. Robby subconsciously reached back and touched his hole as he remembered how much it hurt when Trent tried to shove His cock in him. But this wouldn't be one cock but three at least. Four, if Christian wanted more than a blow job.

Looking around for something to put on, Robby quickly threw on a swimsuit and headed out to the pool. He was going to put a stop to this shit now. Whatever Alex and Trent had told the others, he was no fag and nobody’s fuck toy.

"Alex, I need to talk to you a second," Robby said grabbing Alex’s arm to pull him aside.

"Sure," he said. All the other guys were grinning, as was Alex.

"Looking good, Robby. Like those speedos on you. Really shows off your ass," Mario yelled to him approvingly. 

"You've been working the gym like a mad man," Christian added. 

Unsure how to respond, Robby just said "Yeah, thanks guys." 

Turning to Alex, Robby asked quietly, "What the fuck is going on and why is Trent here?"

"We were talking and when I told Him who all would be up here, He asked if He could come. He said that He’d been meaning to catch up with you. Said He promised to give you something. Something He said you wanted bad," Alex said watching Robby’s face for a reaction. Robby tried not to react, but he felt his heart sink.

"You know I don't like Him. He's fucking arrogant and thinks He is entitled to do whatever He wants," Robby said.

"You're just pissed at Him because He told other people that you sucked His cock," Alex said grinning.

"He did?" Robby asked. He wanted to ask how many people Trent had told, but before he could ask Alex interrupted.

"Yeah, where do you think I got the idea from?" Alex said rubbing Robby's muscular round ass through his speedos.

"Don't do that," Robby said, twisting his ass away from Alex’s hand.

"Right, not here in front of the other guys. Later, when I got you all to myself," Alex winked.

"Let's cut the bullshit," Robby said both angry and frustrated. "

You and your buddies aren't going to fuck me this weekend. I figured out what you were up to, why I got a room all to myself, why Trent is up here."

"You wanted me to fuck you last time, but we didn't have a place. Now we do. I thought you would appreciate the effort," Alex said as if he was doing Robby a favor.

"No, man, I didn't say that. You just tried. You never asked," Robby said.

"I thought you wanted it. You said that we couldn't do it because it would wake the other guys, not that I couldn't fuck you. Besides, you let Trent fuck you," Alex said, dismissively. Had Robby listened closely he would have noted a hint of jealousy.

"He didn’t fuck me. He tried. And I didn’t let Him. He forced himself on me. That asshole is bigger and stronger than me. He’s got three or four inches on me in height alone. He barely stuck it in before I made Him stop. Dude, I was drunk out of my fucking mind, and He tried to rape me. Don’t take up for Him. That's why I don't like Him," Robby replied, clearly angry and distressed.

"I heard He’s got a lot of inches on you,” Alex said trying to make a joke.

Robby frowned at the bad joke. It was bad enough that Alex was treating him like some random piece of ass he wanted to bang, but the joke about his smaller cock size just made things worse. 

Alex knew that Trent hadn't really fucked Robby. Trent had told him that while they tried, nothing had actually happened. The fact that it almost happened was exactly why Alex wanted to fuck Robby. Even though Alex was secretly crushing on his buddy, it's not like they were ever going to date or something. So, if he could be the one to take Robby's cherry, he was fine with the other guys fucking him. They were all friends after all.

“That's not what Trent said. He said you were begging Him to fuck you but because you guys didn't have any lube that He was too big and you couldn't take it, so He stopped," Alex countered.

"That’s a fucking lie," Robby said.

"So, you could take Him? Or do you mean you did have lube with you?" Alex said taunting him. 

In Alex's mind, he had no problem telling himself that Robby had wanted Trent to fuck him. His friend just didn’t want to admit it. Alex had convinced himself that Robby would turn into a moaning whore for him once he had Alex's cock buried deep in his ass, pounding him into oblivion. Maybe even beg Alex to fuck him like Trent said he did with Him. Alex’s cock was hard as a rock. It couldn’t happen soon enough.

"No, we didn't. The fucker was trying to fuck me with just spit," Robby said frustrated.

"Well, don't worry, I brought enough lube for everyone this time," Alex said grinning. "But knowing how big Trent and Mario are, I get to go first."

"No one is going first," Robby said, his voice cracking a little. Trent walked up.

"How's my sexy little fag boy. I've missed you and your sweet bubble butt. Tonight, you're finally going to see why all the girls beg Me to fuck them," Trent said rubbing Robby's ass as He tried to kiss him on the cheek. Robby turned his head while brushing Trent’s hand away.

"You're not fucking me, Trent. What part of 'I'm straight' can't You get through Your thick fucking skull?" Robby said pointedly.

"Straight?” Trent laughed. Robby glared at Him.

“Dude, you already sucked My cock. That makes you a fag in My book. You can stop pretending no one knows. Everyone knows you sucked My dick. I made sure of that. And, since you had My dick in your mouth, what's the problem with taking My cock up your pretty little pussy? I know how all of you fags dream of a big-dicked stud like Me between your legs. I’ll have you crawling the walls begging Me to never stop fucking you,” Trent bragged.

"That was a mistake," Robby said, blushing as he was forced to admit in front of Alex that he had sucked Trent's cock.

"Dude, you sucked Me off like a pro. And when I shot a load in your mouth, you swallowed it like a greedy little bitch. And My amigo here says you blew him too and eagerly swallowed his spunk too. That isn't a mistake. That's a sey little fag boy who loves taking cock," Trent said cruising Robby's body. Reaching out Trent grabbed Robby’s hand to move it to His swelling crotch. Robby pulled his hand away.

"I was fucked up, and you know it," Robby said, weakly.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself. I know you wanted it. You were going down on Me like a total cockhound. I couldn’t have stopped you if I wanted to. And I didn’t hear you complaining when I was licking your pussy or when I put your legs on My shoulders, but if it makes you feel better, we can get you drunk this time too, if you want," Trent said.

“Whatever it takes to let Me plow you, bro. You know how much I want to feel your boy cunt squeezing My cock while I fill your guts with My baby batter.”

"No," Robby said adamantly.

"Good, I'd prefer you to be sober too when you finally take all 10” of My cock up your hole. I wanna hear you scream as I stretch your hole out. It’s always fucking hot when you sluts beg Me to take it out because it’s too big. Don’t you worry, I won’t. I’ll open your pussy up real good and then fuck you until you’re begging for it harder and deeper ," Trent sneered lustfully.

"That's not what I meant," Robby said tears welling up in his eyes as he noticed Trent adjust His cock as it continued to swell in His swimsuit, leaving little to the imagination.

“See, you’re getting Me hard already just talking about finally getting to fuck your tight little ass,” Trent said. “I’d put money on the fact that you can take a rough fuck better than any chick. In fact, I'm counting on it,” He added.

"Come on, guys. We're friends. Don't do this to me," Robby pleaded, looking first at Alex then at Trent, then back at Alex.

"Dude, we were friends,” Trent said.

“But now that we know you’re a cocksucker with a beautiful bubble butt, you’re just a faggot fuck boy now. A fine-looking fuck boy for sure. One of the prettiest around, but still a fuck boy. And guys like us, we fuck fags like you, especially ones with a body and ass like yours." 

Trent’s cock was fully hard now. The head of His cock was jutting out from the top of His swim trunks. Robby glanced down. There was precum leaking from the slit of His head.

"Alex, I'm going to pack. You need to take me home," Robby said, fighting back tears.

"Sorry. I can’t do that," Alex said calmly. Robby turned and looked at Alex in disbelief.

"You see," Trent said. "It's all worked out. You can be a good little faggot, give up your ass voluntarily, and we'll all have a lot of fun this weekend, especially you. Just think of all the cock you'll get in your mouth and boy cunt plus all the jizz you'll get to swallow. Once you relax and let it happen, you'll love it. I know you will."

"No, I wouldn’t. You’re not going to fuck me. He's not going to fuck me. No one is going to fuck me. You can’t make me if I don't want to," Robby said, as tears leaked from his eyes, down his cheek.

"Then," Trent said, reaching up and rubbing away Robby's tears in mock sympathy and talking to him like a child. "We'll just have to rape you. Personally, I would prefer that. I want you to fight back while I turn your tight little virgin hole into a cunt, but the other guys here just want you to agree to take their cocks like the good little fag you are." 

Mario and Christian walked up at that moment, obviously unaware at how dark the conversation had turned.

"So, you excited?" Mario asked Robby.

"About what?' Robby asked, wiping his tears away.

"All the cock your pretty white ass and mouth can handle. Trent said you fantasized about having all of us guys run a train on you." Mario said while Christian nodded in agreement smiling.

"Guys, look, I know Trent told you that I was some fag or something but I'm not. I've never been fucked before," Robby said.

"Awesome dude, so I'll be your first big black beautiful cock?" Mario asked, nodding approvingly while totally missing what Robby was trying to say.

"No, I’m not cool with this. I don't want to do it," Robby said firmly. Mario looked confused, a little indignant.

"You got something against black dick?" Christian asked.

"No, I'm cool with you guys. I just don't want to get fucked . . . by anyone," Robby said. Mario turned to Trent.

"Dude, if he doesn't want it. He doesn't want it. But You promised us we'd get a piece of sexy white boy ass if we came up. So, what are You going to do about it? You got anything on back up?" Mario asked, clearly disappointed at not being able to nail his hot white friend. Robby felt a wave of relief come over him. Mario would get him out of this.

"You'll get your turn at Robby's ass. He's just nervous and embarrassed to be asking his buddies to pop his cherry. He wants this, I promise. It was his idea to invite all of us up here," Trent said ignoring the fact that Robby was standing right there.

Robby was so astounded at what Trent said that he couldn’t form the words to say something back. He just shook his head "No" as he looked quickly from Mario to Trent hoping Mario would understand and put an end to this.

"Look, bro. You'll get you some boy pussy even if I have to hold him down while you fuck him. I promise," Trent said laughing as if it was a joke. Mario laughed half-heartedly, not quite sure if it was just a joke. 

"Ok, but make sure it’s ok with the boy. Either he’s down with it or it’s not happening," Mario said, grabbing Christian’s waist before turning to walk off. Robby watched in despair as Mario and Christian left, whispering to each other.

"Come on, Alex. It's time to explain to our new pussy boy how it's going to go down," Trent said angrily as He grabbed Robby hard by the back of his neck and pushed him towards the house. 

Mario turned and watched hesitantly, not quite comfortable with what was happening but curious to see how it played out. He and Christian had talked about how hot it would be to tag team Robby this weekend. He was curious to see if Trent could talk Robby into it.

Trent pushed Robby through the sliding glass doors causing him to stumble and fall. Reaching down, He grabbed Robby by the hair and dragged him into the bedroom while Robby was crying and loudly bawling.

"No. Stop. You’re hurting me, Trent. Please."

"Wait here," Trent barked at Alex.

"Wait, dude. I was supposed to fuck him first," Alex protested.

"Shut up and make sure we're not interrupted. Let Me handle it My way, or no one is getting to fuck Robby this weekend," Trent said as He threw Robby onto the bed and slammed the door behind Him. 

Damn it, Alex thought as he heard the door lock. He was disappointed he wouldn't be Robby's first. It didn't matter though. If he gave it up to Trent, Alex thought, Robby would give it up to him as well. After all, he was Robby's best friend. He would make sure that he was Robby's favorite. Alex listened carefully at the door.

"Please Trent, no. Please, don't do this to me," Robby sobbed, his voice straining. Trent said something back, but it was so quiet that Alex couldn't quite make it out. Alex leaned closer to the door.

"Ok, ok. I'm taking them off. Please don't do this. I'll suck Your cock again, I will. I’ll even swallow Your load just like last time. Just please, please don't fuck me," Robby said as he started sobbing out loud. Trent said something again, inaudible.

"No, please, no." It was Robby again.

Alex heard a loud slap and what he thought must have been Robby hitting the floor. This time he heard Trent clearly as He had raised His voice. 

"Up on the fucking bed, face down, bitch. Spread those cheeks and show Me your pussy," Trent ordered.

"No, no," Robby cried.

Alex heard another slap. This one louder as Robby let out a loud wail. Alex felt bad for Robby, but he would make it up to him when Trent was through with him. He would show Robby that sex with a guy could be fun and didn't have to hurt.

"I said, face down," Trent roared. Alex could tell Trent was angry.

Alex knew that he should stop it, but he was too turned on as he jerked his dick thinking about Robby's impending rape. He had heard how rough Trent could be with His girls. He wished he could see it. Fuck, part of him even wished he was the one doing it. Alex was still convinced once Robby finally felt a Man's cock inside him that that he would love it and start moaning with pleasure instead of crying.

“Now spread ‘em,” Trent ordered.

“Please, no, please, Trent,” Robby cried.

“You’re going to fucking take My cock up your ass. Not just the head this time, all of it, until My balls are slapping your cunt. And you’re going to beg Me to fuck you, faggot,” Trent growled.

A loud throaty scream came from behind the door interrupted by loud sobs, followed soon by another loud scream, but not as loud. 

"Fuck, you're tight. Beautifully tight," Trent said loudly.

“It hurts. Please. It hurts so bad. You're fucking tearing me open. Trent, stop.” Robby’s pleading was dropping off slowly as he gasped for air in between sobs. 

"Stop whining you little bitch, I don't even have it all the way in yet," Trent said, as Robby yelled again as Trent forced more of His cock in the boy's unwilling hole. This played on until Alex placing his ear on the door could only hear the slap of flesh on flesh and Robby’s muted sobbing.

“See I knew you could take all 10" of Me,” he heard Trent say.

"Just relax and enjoy it, you fucking slut. Your pussy is feeling real good and soon you will be too. You're going to love getting fucked by Me. All the chicks do.”

One final “No” creeped out of Robby’s mouth before all Alex could hear were the sounds of a rough fucking and gentle crying. Mario came to the door looking concerned. 

“I heard a scream. That didn’t sound too cool,” Mario said. Alex walked over and gently pulled Mario back outdoors.

“Give them some privacy. It’s all cool, I swear. It’s just that Trent has a horse dick. I listened at the door and heard them making out and Robby begging for Trent to fuck him. Trent told Robby that He didn't think he could handle such a big dick, but Robby begged Him to give it to him anyway. I think he didn’t realize how much it would hurt taking Trent’s cock, especially since this was his first time getting fucked. You know how it is,” Alex volunteered somewhat convincingly. Mario being well-endowed knew exactly what Alex was talking about.

“Outside, he said he didn’t want to get fucked, dude,” Mario said suspiciously, but getting horned up at the idea of Robby struggling to take Trent's big dick. He loved it when guys had the same problem taking his cock. But, after a little while, they were begging for it deeper and harder. So it wasn't that hard to believe what Alex was telling him.

“The problem, you see, is Robby is in love with Trent. It’s just that he told Trent he wasn't sure that he wanted to get fucked by the rest of us, but he wanted Trent to fuck him. After some sweet talking by Trent, Robby agreed he’d put out for all of us, like Trent wanted, as long as Trent promised to be the one to take his cherry and be the first one to fuck him every morning. I even heard him tell Trent not to use a condom. Trent didn't want to fuck him bareback at first, but Robby begged Trent to fuck him raw. Does that sound like a straight guy who doesn't want it.? Trust me, he’s cool with it," Alex said. Mario wasn't completely convinced but his now hard cock was making it easier to believe.

"Really, it's ok. He’ll do whatever Trent says as long as Trent keeps giving him cock. Right now, he’s blissfully moaning with pleasure from being fucked like a bitch by Trent. You’ll see,” Alex said.

“Sweet,” Mario said finally convinced. “They can play all the house they want. I just wanna fuck the guy.”

“Don’t worry. You will. We all will,” Alex said, smiling.

[cali-fag-1995]

It is great to have good friends around you!!

[submit-obey-serve]

Remember when...

[cali-fag-1995]

It was a hard day, but a good day!

[mko001]

The Hypnotised Bike Cop -Part 6

Paul arrived at work the happiest he's been for a long time, he had a huge smile on his face as he walked down the corridor to the locker room, suddenly he stopped though, his smile faded and his thoughts changed, was he going to far? Will he get caught? Is what he's doing going to cause any long term damage to their minds? All these thoughts were suddenly swimming round his mind, he gave his head a shake and tried to push those thoughts away, he smiled again and continued, although this time his smile wasn't as bright as it had been a moment earlier.

Once changed, Paul made his way to his desk to catch up on a bit of paperwork before heading out on his bike, when he got there he saw a folded piece of paper there, he picked it up and unfolded it, the letter was from the Chief Superintendent, it just read 'Sergeant Paul Simmons, please see me in my office today at 11am, signed Chief Superintendent John Atkinson'

Paul stood staring at the letter for a while wondering why the Superintendent would want to see him so suddenly. He folded the paper up and shoved it in his pocket, he then grabbed his helmet and gloves and made his way towards the bike garage.

As he opened the door into the garage, he saw Dave stood near his own bike, he thought back to the day he first hypnotised him, his first lad under his control, his favourite, thoughts suddenly came back, should he have just stopped with Dave, should he have even hypnotised him to begin with, but then another thought took over, his dick started to harden under his thick leather trousers, thankfully the leather hid his growing bulge, but he knew what he now wanted more than anything at this very moment. He walked over to Dave and before Dave could even acknowledge him, he blurted out

"Sleepy cop", Dave instantly went blank.

"Dave, I need you now, follow me to the store cupboard", they both made their way to the large supplies cupboard at the back of the garage, then entered and Paul jammed a large piece of wood under the handle so no one could come in, he then started to undo his trousers, his now rock hard dick sprung forward under his boxer shorts, he pulled his boxers down, precum was already leaking out.

"Dave, suck me off now".

"Yes sir", Dave replied, he instantly got down on his knees and put his mouth around Paul's rock hard dick, Paul's eyes rolled back with instant pleasure, he'd never had a bj as good as the ones Dave gives, it wasn't even long before his cum was spewing out and filling Dave's mouth, by this point Dave knew to swallow the lot. Paul breathed heavily savouring the moment, then he pulled his boxers up followed by his trousers.

As he finished, those same annoying thoughts suddenly came back, he thought doing this might have made him forget all about it, but unfortunately not, he slowly opened the door checking no one else had entered the room, then he told Dave to make his way back to his bike where he would then wake up, and then Paul followed him out.

Paul stood outside the heavy oak door at 10.59am. He took a final breath and knocked on the frosted glass panel in the middle of the door.

"Come in," the voice called.

Paul entered. Chief Superintendent Atkinson was sitting behind his desk, the sunlight from the large window silhouetting his broad shoulders. He looked every bit the powerful, intimidating commander.

"Sit down, Paul," Atkinson said, his face a mask of professional sternness. "I need to chat further with you about Luke, it's been puzzling me since our last meeting."

Paul sat. For a second, his heart fluttered, but then he looked directly into Atkinson’s eyes. Paul leaned back, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. The fear was gone.

"Is there a problem, John?" Paul asked, intentionally using the Chief’s first name.

Atkinson didn't flinch or reprimand him for the lack of respect. Instead, his stern expression melted away into a vacant, pleasant smile. "No problem at all, Paul. I just wanted to tell you how pleased I am with the progress of the... specialised training."

Paul’s mind drifted back to three nights ago at the Station.

The station was quiet, all the office staff had gone home and only a few night shift officers were milling about. Atkinson had stayed late, as he often did, buried in paperwork. Paul had "accidentally" left his leather gloves in the Chief’s office earlier that day. When he went back to retrieve them, he found Atkinson rubbing his temples, looking exhausted.

"Headache, sir?" Paul had asked softly.

"Just the weight of the job, Simmons," Atkinson sighed, not looking up. "The boy is struggling, the budget is a mess..."

"I have something that could help, I use it with my team after hectic training sessions or stressful days, it helps people relax and calm down, do you want to try it?".

Atkinson, too tired to be suspicious, just nodded.

Paul took out his phone, his improved new file should hopefully work better than ever, he placed the phone on the desk resting against a pot holding pens in it, he faced it up to John's face and pressed play, telling John to watch it.

It had been surprisingly easy, helped by the fact the Chief was already extremely tired. Within five minutes, the most powerful man in the county was slumped in his chair, staring at a fixed point on his desk, his mind a blank slate waiting for Paul’s commands.

“From now on,” Paul had whispered into his ear, “you will trust my judgment implicitly. If anyone questions my work with Luke, you will defend it. And when I call you 'John' in private, you will feel a deep sense of loyalty and obedience, you will obey me and do anything I ask.”

Back to the Present

Paul snapped back to the reality of the office. He looked at the man who could have easily fired him, now sitting there waiting for his next cue.

"Good," Paul said, his voice dripping with newfound confidence. "Now, John, about Dave and Luke. They’re getting curious. They’re starting to talk. I need you to call them in later today. I want you to tell them that you’ve personally reviewed my 'files' and that any 'weirdness' they think they saw is simply a side effect of a new, highly classified undercover stress-test."

"I will tell them exactly that," Atkinson replied, his voice a flat, obedient monotone.

"And John?" Paul leaned forward, enjoying the view of the defeated lion. "I might need to use your private office for a few more... training sessions. It’s more private than the garage."

"Of course, Paul. My office is your office."

Paul stood up, feeling like he owned the building. But as he turned to leave, a thought struck him. He had the Chief. He had Dave. He had Luke. He had Jay. But the more people he under his thumb, the more "glitches" were appearing. He needed to tighten the screws before things got too out of hand.

Paul was stood by the window looking down to the car park, watching various police officers walking to their vehicles or back towards the station, oblivious to the fact that the man running their police force was currently a hollowed-out shell. He felt a surge of pure, uncut ego.

"John," Paul said, not even looking back at the man behind the desk. "Make sure you update the digital logs. I want it to look like I’ve been in and out of your office for official briefings all week. If anyone checks the paper trail, it needs to be flawless."

"I’ll handle the logs immediately, Paul," Atkinson replied, his voice devoid of its usual grit.

Paul turned ready to leave but just as he started making his way towards the door, he froze.

Click.

Someone was just at the door, he saw a blurred figure through the glass moving quickly away down the corridor.

Paul ran towards the door and flung it open.

The corridor was a long, narrow tunnel of white walls and closed doors. At the very end, a heavy fire door was swinging shut.

"Hey!" Paul shouted, sprinting toward the end of the hall.

He reached the fire door and shoved it open, it lead into a fire escape stairwell. He looked up, then down. He heard the distant clatter-clatter of boots hitting the stairs on the lower floor.

By the time he reached the ground floor exit that led toward the main passageway of the police station, the area was swarming with officers. It was shift change, officers and staff were walking in various directions, some entering, others leaving.

Paul scanned the room, his eyes wild. He saw Dave by the vending machine. He saw Jay entering from the front desk. He saw a female sergeant he barely knew. Every single one of them looked like they belonged there.

Anyone could have heard him. Anyone could have heard him calling the Chief 'John.' Anyone could have heard the Chief's robotic, submissive responses.

Paul felt a cold shiver crawl up his spine. For the first time, he realized that while he was watching everyone else, someone was finally watching him. And unlike Dave or Luke, this person wasn't under his spell.

Paul stood in silence, his breathing heavy, he didn't know what to do.

[telluriccurrents]

Forced: "Breaking Kevin"

Mark saw Nathan walking out from behind the deck shoving His still hard cock back into His swim trunks. Nathan didn't say a word to Mark as He walked past him. He simply looked him in the eye and grinned like the cat that ate the canary. Knowing that Nathan was never up to anything good, Mark went to look. Turning the corner, he saw his best friend, Kevin. He didn’t look so good.

"Dude, are you ok?" Mark asked his buddy.

"I guess," Kevin said quietly.

Mark could tell Kev was pretty shaken. His hair was messed up, and he had fading red marks on his neck and back that looked suspiciously like handprints. The most telling sign that something was wrong was that Kevin's eyes were red and swollen. He had obviously been crying not too long ago.

"What's wrong, Kev? Did that asshole Nathan make you suck His dick again?" Mark asked bluntly, but still genuinely concerned for his friend.

Kevin winced. He had told Mark about it when it happened, but he didn't like talking about it. Kevin knew rumors had already started spreading on campus that Nathan had turned Kevin into His personal cocksucker. Kevin had tried to deny it the best he could. Still, the rumors hadn't stopped. If anything, they had gotten worse. A couple of Nathan's friends even called Kevin "cum breath" in front of Kevin's friends.

When Kevin first met Nathan, Nathan had told him how beautiful he was and that one day soon Nathan would have Kevin's lips wrapped around His cock. Kevin didn’t take Nathan seriously until that one afternoon that Nathan caught him alone in the gym showers.

Kevin told Mark that it had only happened that once, but Mark knew that wasn’t true. It was obvious that it hadn't stopped. Nathan had gotten increasingly possessive of Kevin, demanding the boy’s attention in front of everyone. Everyone knew that if Nathan wanted your attention, it was only for one reason. Nathan had a way of showing up wherever Kevin was and, after a few whispers in Kevin's ear, both of them were gone. It had been occurring with more and more frequency lately.

Nathan was not a part of their Kevin’s usual friend circle. So, when He started coming around to “talk’ to Kevin, it wasn't too hard to believe the rumors were true. In fact, it was pretty obvious to anyone who knew what to look for. Nathan had a reputation for being sexually aggressive. While there were tales of Nathan having sexually assaulted several girls and even a few guys, no one had gone to the authorities. Mainly, because no one dared.

While Mark didn't know how often it was occurring, he figured that any time that Nathan could get Kevin alone He was forcing the handsome blond boy to his knees. Afterward, Kevin’s swollen puffy lips and eyes told the rest of the story.

Mark had overheard Nathan refer to these times with Kevin as "dates." Yet, there was nothing romantic or affectionate about Nathan's gestures or words to Kevin. They didn't act like a couple. They never held hands. Mark never once saw Nathan kiss Kevin in public or put His arms around the boy. But most telling, Kevin's face never lit up when Nathan walked up. If anything, Kevin looked terrified.

It never failed, whatever Kevin was doing. Nathan would interrupt, grab Kevin firmly by the arm, and whisper in Kevin's ear that it was time for their “date.” Nathan made no attempt to hide it. If anything, it was like He wanted to make sure that Kevin’s friends overheard what He was telling Kevin.

Their "dates" never lasted very long, just long enough for Nathan to get off. When Kevin returned to his friends, he wouldn't tell them what happened, but there were signs for those who were willing to see them. More than once, Kevin had come back with torn clothes, wet spots on his t-shirt, or like today, hand marks on his neck.

"Come on, dude. You can tell me," Mark said walking towards his buddy.

"No!" Kevin said loudly, putting up his hand to stop his friend.

"Why not?" Mark asked.

"I'm naked," Kevin said quietly.

"Where's your swimsuit? There are all kinds of people here at this party," Mark said a little alarmed. He had failed to make the connection with Nathan having been there just moments ago.

"Nathan," Kevin finally said almost at a whisper.

"So, Nathan did do something, didn’t He? I knew it. You can tell me. That sick son of a bitch made you suck His dick again, didn't He?" Mark asked, feeling sorry for his friend but wanting to know exactly what had happened.

Kevin was straight as far as Mark knew. Until Nathan started hanging around, Kevin even had a girlfriend. Not anymore of course. Nathan didn't allow it. Clearly, what was happening with Nathan wasn't consensual, but Kevin wouldn't let Mark tell anyone or do anything to get Nathan to stop. What Mark couldn’t figure out was why.

"No. Um, yes, but not just that," Kevin said, a slight sob breaking from his lips. Mark was having a problem understanding what Kevin was trying to say to him. What else could Nathan have done besides that?

"Come on, man. Let me help you," Mark stepped around the deck. Kevin wasn't naked. He still had his Speedo on.

"I thought you said you were naked?" Mark asked, wondering why Kevin had told him that.

Kevin slowly turned around and showed Mark. The back of his Speedo had been ripped open along the seam, a gaping hole in the fabric ran from the waist band down under his ass. Mark could see Kevin's ass cheeks, lightly covered with peach fuzz, through the gap in the tear.

"What happened?" Mark asked concerned. Kevin threw his arms around his best friend and started weeping uncontrollably. Mark reflexively hugged his friend back, hoping to calm him down.

"He raped me, Mark. He fucking raped me. He ripped a hole in my swimsuit and fucked me. He didn’t even wear a condom. The motherfucker came in me. I can still feel it," Kevin managed to get out as he cried on Mark’s shoulder. Mark was speechless.

It was all so surrealistic. Men didn’t get raped. Mark had no experience with a situation like this. He had a hard time comprehending the enormity of what Nathan had done to the boy. It wasn’t that Mark wasn’t sympathetic. The word "rape" alone is enough to evoke strong emotions.

The problem was that Mark couldn’t grasp the psychological impact that rape has on a guy. It isn’t just the physical violation, which is bad enough. It’s the upending of gender roles, the destruction of self-image, the feelings of powerlessness and loss of dignity. It was the shame of having been used by a Man like a man would use a common whore. That's not to say that the rape of a guy is worse than for a woman, but whatever Mark understood about the rape of a woman didn't easily relate to the rape of a guy.

“How did this happen?” Mark finally asked, unsure what to say or do as he tried to get his head wrapped around the situation. Kevin let go of his friend and stepped back.

“What do you mean “how”?’ Kevin asked, unprepared to answer details of what had happened to him. Mark couldn't help but think how vulnerable Kevin looked, swollen eyes, tears running down his cheeks, standing there wearing only a Speedo that had been shredded in the back exposing his ass.

“The asshole pinned me against the deck, ripped my swimsuit open and fucking raped me. That's how,” Kevin said almost hysterically, all the while trying to pull the two pieces of his Speedo together without much luck.

“Did you tell him "No"? Why didn’t you scream? I’d have come,” Mark asked.

“Are you saying it’s my fault? Are you saying I wanted him to do this to me?” Kevin asked, tears welling up in his eyes as his voice cracked. Mark suddenly realized that he needed to be a little more sensitive. The how and why could wait until later.

"Fuck this. If you won't do anything, you've got to let me do something about it," Mark said, getting angry but still trying to comfort his buddy.

"Do what?" Kevin asked, desperately.

"I don't know. Call the police, maybe? Something, anything," Mark offered.

"He'll just swear I wanted it. He says that he has a recording of me sucking His cock. He said that He’ll show everyone and that no one will believe me that He forced me to do any of this. He said if everyone knew I was sucking His cock, they would easily believe that I had wanted Him to fuck me. And, Mark, He promised that he’d do it again if I told anyone. I shouldn't have even told you."

"Kevin, don’t be stupid. If you let Him get away with this, He won't stop. He'll rape you over and over again. He'll never stop if you don’t do something," Mark countered, unable to understand why Kevin couldn't see that the only way this would stop was if Nathan was held accountable.

"But Mark,” Kevin said, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Whether they believe Him or not, everyone will still know what He did to me. Everyone will know He fucked me like some chick, or worse a fag. And they'll look at me differently," the boy said, struggling to talk through the sobs. Mark was at a loss what to do if Kevin wouldn't agree to let him tell someone.

"Some will say poor Kevin. Others will say that I was probably was a fag and deserved it. And you know there are some guys who will decide that if Nathan can do it, they can too," Kevin said wiping the tears from his eyes. Mark could tell that Kevin was close to the breaking point, which was exactly what Nathan wanted. Once the boy broke, Nathan would own him.

"I just can't. Please. You can’t tell anyone else. No matter what, everyone will wonder that if I really didn't want it, why didn’t I stop Him or at least get away. I'm not gay, Mark. You know that. I never sucked a dick before Nathan made me do it. It’s bad enough that some people already believe that I’m sucking Him off. I really don't want anyone to know that now Nathan has fucked me too. I don't want anyone to think I wanted it. And even if they believe me, they will still look at me as the poor pathetic guy that Nathan raped. They will know the only reason that He raped me was because I was too weak to stop him. I don't want to be known as THAT guy, Mark."

At that moment, Nathan came around the corner. Mark sized Him up. He wanted to beat the shit out of Him, but Nathan was much bigger, more muscular than he was. Mark doubted he could take Him. Still, it did nothing to lessen his anger.

"I know what you did, asshole. You're not going to get away with this," Mark said angrily. Nathan just smiled. It was the confident look of someone firmly in control of the situation.

"What? You got a problem with Me fucking My best girl?" Nathan asked smugly.

"Dude, what you did is rape. Kevin isn't a girl. He isn't even gay," Mark said.

"Yes, he is. He sucks My cock all the time. In My book, that makes him a fag. But, you know, "fag" is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of him as “My girl," especially since he's so pretty and loves taking My cock," Nathan said, reaching out and lightly grabbing Kevin's ass. Kevin recoiled, but only barely.

"He didn't want to do it. You made him do it," Mark protested.

"I didn't make him do anything. You should see how quickly My girl falls to his knees begging to suck My cock. I don’t even have to ask for a blowjob anymore. As soon as he can get me alone, he’s pawing at My jeans desperate to suck My dick. Maybe one day I'll let you watch. You'll see what a total slut he is with My cock in his mouth," Nathan told Mark smirking. Turning to Kevin, Nathan nudged him to get his attention.

"Don't you, baby? Don't you love sucking your Man's cock?" Nathan asked looking at Kevin in a way that dared him to deny it. Kevin just looked down at the ground saying nothing.

"Aww, is My baby girl embarrassed that I'm talking about how much you love sucking My cock? Don't be that way. Every Man knows how much girls like you crave cock, especially one as big as Mine. You should be grateful. I don’t let just any bitch suck My cock. Did you tell Mark how you always swallow My load like a good girl, and that you even thank Me for letting you suck My dick?" Nathan asked with a grin.

"No," Kevin whispered.

Mark found the response maddening. Did Kevin mean "No" that he hadn’t told Mark? "No" he didn't love sucking Nathan's dick or swallowing His load? "No" Kevin didn't thank Nathan for letting him blow Him? Mark wished Kevin would just stand up for himself, set the record straight that all of this was unwanted, that he had been forced to do whatever Nathan made him do.

Nathan turned to Mark, taking a threatening step forward. Mark backed up a step unsure what Nathan was about to do.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is, and honestly, I don't care. This is none of your business. But since you seem so curious, I just figured it was time for Kevin to stop being a little tease and put out for his Man. I treat him good, real good. Just like I treat all the rest of My bitches. I take him out on dates. I show him some attention. I let him know how sexy his ass is and how it brings out the Man in Me. In fact, I treat him better than most girls I've been with," Nathan said in a patronizing manner that suggested Kevin should be thankful Nathan was “dating” him.

Still, Kevin said nothing. Mark wondered why Kevin wouldn't say something, anything, to show that Nathan was lying. That he didn't want to do those things that Nathan made him do. How much more could the boy take before he cracked?

"But eventually, that's not enough now, is it?" Nathan continued.

"You know how it is. Real Men have needs. Sure, I could fuck anyone I want. Lots of chicks love it when I fuck them, but Kevin here is My girl. He knew that he'd eventually have to put out, to satisfy his Man, if he wanted to keep being My “best” girl. Didn't you Kevin?" Nathan said, not really caring if Kevin responded. Everything being said was really for Mark’s benefit.

"So, yeah, I fucked him. I fucked him good, and he loved it. You should have heard him moaning like a slut as he took My cock up his pretty little pussy. I even knocked the horny little bitch up. I shot a huge load of My spunk up in his pussy and that makes him mine now. And that won't be the last time I fuck your friend either. I'll fuck him any time I want, as much as I want. Who's going to stop Me? You?" Nathan asked laughing, almost daring Mark to do something about it.

Mark couldn't help but think that Nathan sounded like a typical misogynistic straight guy. Women are only good for one thing. If a Man cheats, it’s because the woman wasn't satisfying His needs. Mark had heard it all before. Only, Nathan wasn't talking about a woman. He was talking about Kevin. Yet, in some perverse way, in Nathan's mind, Kevin was a girl. And He expected Kevin to do what girls are supposed do for their Men.

Nathan walked up behind Kevin, towering over the boy by at least 3 or 4 inches. He reached out and put His hands on Kevin's waist pulling the boy to Him. Kevin cringed but allowed himself to be pulled back into Nathan until Nathan’s crotch was pushed up against Kevin’s ass. Nathan wrapped His arms around Kevin's waist as He rested His chin on the boy’s shoulder. Gently, He ran His hands all over Kevin’s body, a clear sign of His dominance.  

“Whatcha think Mark, doesn’t My girl have a beautiful body, slender, not too muscly, nice tiny waist to hold on to as I fuck his pussy over and over again?” Nathan said, not really interested in what Mark thought.

It was a demonstration of Nathan's right to possess the boy, and it was a direct challenge to Mark. Nathan put one hand down the front of Kevin's Speedo, while the other was playing with Kevin's nipple. Kevin grimaced but didn’t try to pull away or even try to move Nathan's hands. Nathan stared at Mark as He kissed Kevin's neck.

"If he’s so “straight” and not loving all the attention I’m giving him, why is he letting Me hold him like this. Why is he grinding his pussy into My crotch as we speak?" Nathan asked rhetorically.

Mark glanced down. At first, he thought it was Nathan grinding His crotch into Kevin’s ass, but he wasn’t so sure now. Their bodies were so close. It was hard to tell who was pushing into whom.

Mark began to wonder, was Nathan right? Did Kevin secretly want it? Did he lead Nathan on? Whatever game Nathan was playing was getting to Mark. Mark shook his head to clear it. No, Nathan was wrong. He had known Kevin since grade school. If he was Nathan’s bitch, it was only because Nathan made him His bitch.

"I love the way your body feels next to mine, baby girl. That beautiful ass backed up into My cock gets Me hard every time," Nathan said casually. "Can you feel My cock getting hard again?" Kevin hesitated. Nathan asked again, more threateningly. Finally, Kevin started shaking his head up and down.

Mark realized Kevin wasn't at the breaking point. Nathan had broken him. Kevin was mentally and emotionally unable to challenge Nathan's right to do whatever Nathan wanted to.

As he contemplated the situation, Mark couldn't help but notice the contrast between Nathan's muscled tanned torso and the pale swimmer's build of his best friend. Nathan was muscular, solid, confident, arrogant even. Everything Kevin was not. Nathan had dark hair on his arms, legs, chest, even his abs. Kevin was smooth. What hair he did have was fine, blond, and wispy.

Nathan wasn't the first person to call Kevin pretty. Both guys and girls had said so. He wasn't handsome, like you would think of a Man, but pretty like a member of a boy band. Kevin had a softness to him, possibly even a slight effeminate quality to him. It was hard to pinpoint why Mark thought that. Maybe it was Kevin's shyness or his lack of assertiveness, or even some innate submissiveness. Mark couldn't be sure, but none of those things made him a girl, or even a fag. It didn’t even mean that he wasn't as masculine as Nathan or even as Mark was.

There was also the fact that Kevin was allowing himself to be held like a Man holds a girl. Kevin was backed into Nathan, his ass pressed up against Nathan’s crotch. Nathan’s arms were wrapped around Kevin’s waist while Nathan’s hands were taking their liberty with Kevin's smaller body. While Nathan's face was full of defiance, Kevin was submissive, compliant, unable to speak up in his own defense. Mark hated to admit it, but he could see how Kevin was the "girl," if only because Nathan made it that way.

As Mark continued to consider the situation, Nathan grasped Kevin by the throat and bent his head back as He started kissing Kevin's neck and throat aggressively. Kevin grimaced but didn't pull away. Without removing His hands from Kevin’s throat, Nathan looked at Mark.

“You're just jealous because I fucked Kevin first, but you never had a chance. Just like every chick, once Kevin saw how big My cock is, it was love at first sight. He couldn’t wait to get it in his mouth. And yeah, once a girl has My cock in her mouth, I think I'm entitled to bury it in her pussy. That's my right as a Man. If you think your boy has some problem with Me fucking him, maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to suck My cock like the horny little slut that he is." Mark couldn't believe how Nathan had totally spun what happened. Did He actually believe that? Or was it that He wanted Kevin to believe it?

Kevin looked at his best friend, tears welling up in his eyes. Mark wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Nathan just smiled as He turned Kevin's head and started kissing Kevin, His tongue inside Kevin's mouth. Nathan was clearly getting off on humiliating Kevin, but also on showing Mark how powerless he was to stop Him.

Nathan turned Kevin around and placed Kevin's arms around His neck in a pose that struck Mark as a guy dancing with His girl. Nathan then reached down and inserted His hand into the tear in Kevin's swimsuit and started rubbing the boy's round firm ass, slipping the length of His hand between the boy’s butt cheeks. Kevin grimaced but, again, did nothing to pull away or to make Nathan remove His hand. He just stood there, his arms remaining where Nathan had put them.

"You wanted it didn't you, Kevin? Tell your friend. You wanted to show Me how you'd do anything to keep being My “best” girl, didn't you? Tell your buddy over there how you bent over and begged Me to fuck your pretty little pussy," Nathan said, grabbing one of Kevin's hands and pushing into the top of His swim trunks.

Kevin instinctively wrapped his hand around the swelling cock that had so recently ripped his manhood from him. Not so much because he wanted to, but because Nathan expected him to. Kevin had learned that capitulation was best. The alternative was much worse. Nathan grabbed Kevin's chin and pulled it up so that he had to look Nathan in the eye.

"Tell him how you moaned like a bitch while I fucked you. Tell him how when you felt My throbbing cock start to unload in your pussy, you begged Me for My load, to knock you up like a good bitch," Nathan ordered.

If Kevin had moaned, and if he had begged for it, Mark thought that it was only because Nathan insisted that Kevin do it. Still, Mark realized that, to anyone accidently stumbling upon them, it probably would have looked like Kevin was willingly giving up his ass to Nathan. Mark guessed that at the time, Kevin would have said or done anything for it just to be over.

Kevin flinched at both the memory of the searing pain of being penetrated and the humiliation that he felt when Nathan’s cock started unloading cum deep inside him, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't even offer an explanation why he didn't fight back, at least not one he expected anyone to believe.

"Don't disrespect Me, bitch. Answer Me," Nathan said harshly, grabbing Kevin's throat and squeezing tightly. Kevin jumped from the sudden aggressive move and the firm hold Nathan had around his throat.

"Yes, Sir. I wanted it. I wanted you to fuck me," Kevin blurted out as he wiped new tears away from his cheeks again unable to look at Mark as the words left his lips.

"Tell your friend there how you didn't just want it, but you begged me to fuck you," Nathan said, almost growling. Kevin murmured something that sounded like "Please, Nathan" as he hung his head in shame, tears dripping off his face.

"Do it!" Nathan barked. Startled Kevin looked up.

"I begged Him to fuck me. I wanted Him to cum inside me. Everything happened just like He said," Kevin finally said choking back sobs as he glanced over momentarily to see how Mark was reacting. He couldn’t tell if Mark realized that he was being forced to say these things or if his best friend was starting to think that Kevin was just some horny fag who secretly wanted Nathan to fuck him.

"See," Nathan said sneering at Mark. "He wanted it. You heard it from him directly.” Then turning back to Kevin, “You love taking your Man's cock up your pussy, and you can't wait to do it again. Isn't that right, baby girl?" Nathan asked. Kevin just stood there, his eyes studying the ground. Slowly, he tilted his head up and down.

Mark looked at Nathan. If he expected to see some little regret for forcing Kevin to have sex with Him, or even sympathy for the humiliation the boy was going through, he didn't. Instead, a grin came over Nathan’s face. It was clear Nathan was enjoying the mental domination of the boy, demeaning him, and flaunting it in Mark’s face.

"All this talk about how much you love getting fucked by Me has Me all worked up again, baby girl," Nathan said turning Kevin around, so that he was facing away from Nathan again.

"Show me your pussy, baby. I want to see if you can handle another long hard fucking from your Man."

Kevin stood still as Nathan stuck his fingers up in Kevin's swollen and battered hole moving them around. Kevin tried to hold still but the pain caused him to squirm in discomfort. Still, he did nothing to stop Nathan. Again, he didn't even try to pull away.

Mark couldn't believe what he was watching. It was like Kevin was a hand puppet and Nathan was his puppeteer. It was hard to watch. Mark felt nothing but pity for Kevin. Well, almost nothing else. While part of him was disgusted by Kevin for allowing himself to be treated this way, Mark was also slightly turned on at how Nathan was commanding the boy’s complete and utter submission. Nathan pulled his fingers out, inspecting them.

"Look," Nathan said, showing Mark his slicked-up fingers.

"He's still wet from My cum in his pussy. Not surprising since I saved up a nice big load for his first time. I wanted it to be special for him. I don't even need to lube My cock to fuck him again. Pretty hot, huh?" Nathan said looking directly at Mark. If looks could kill, Nathan would be dead.

"Baby boy, show your buddy here how much you like the taste of My cum," Nathan said presenting His fingers to Kevin. Kevin hesitated. The humiliation was almost unbearable.

"Open your mouth, bitch," Nathan said harshly.

As Kevin did so, Nathan inserted His fingers into Kevin's mouth rubbing them all around inside. Mark watched with silent contempt as Kevin eventually started sucking Nathan's fingers. It was not like Kevin wanted to suck Nathan's fingers clean, Mark told himself. It was like he had to even though Nathan had not told him to do it, at least not out loud.

Watching Kevin refuse to fight back, Mark realized it didn't matter what he did to try to hold Nathan accountable. He'd get away with it if Kevin wouldn’t speak up for himself. If Kevin said that he wanted Nathan to fuck him, no matter how disingenuous it sounded, there was nothing Mark could do. Mark figured that if he was Nathan, he'd probably continue to fuck Kevin too. It was clear that the boy had given up and would let Nathan do to him whatever He wanted.

"Now, little fag boy," Nathan said directing the comment to Mark, not Kevin. "I know you're jealous that I'm not fucking you instead of Kevin, but I'm a one girl sort of Man." Mark stared in disbelief at Nathan's arrogance.

"So, I think I’m going to fuck My best girl again, knowing he's still moist from Me popping his cherry. His hot little ass rubbing up on My crotch has gotten Me horny again. Now, you can stand there and watch what a stud I am and how Kevin loves taking My cock, or you can move along. Your choice," Nathan said as He placed Kevin's hands on the deck in front of him and kicked the boy's legs apart. Kevin started sobbing.

“Please, Nathan” was all the boy could muster.

Mark watched as Nathan bent Kevin forward slightly. He pulled His half-swollen horse cock out of His swim trunks and rubbed it between Kevin's butt cheeks. Placing one arm around Kevin's waist to hold him in place, Nathan started kissing the boy's neck as began to grind His cock against Kevin's ass until He got fully hard again. Kevin felt Nathan getting thicker and thicker. Realizing Nathan was actually going to fuck him in front of Mark, Kevin finally said something.

"Please, Nathan, don't. Please don't do this to me. Don't fuck me in front of someone else, especially not Mark." Tears started welling up in Kevin's eyes again as Nathan moved His swollen shaft between Kevin's butt cheeks, parting them to allow His cock to press up against Kevin's already bruised and battered hole. It was clear Nathan had no intention of stopping. He was enjoying Kevin’s humiliation too much.

For some reason, Mark fixated on Kevin's actual words. He didn't ask not to be fucked. He asked not to be fucked in front of him. It was clear that at some point he had internalized that he had no right to tell Nathan that He couldn't fuck him.

"I'll decide when and where I fuck you. I'm the Man, not you. Your just my new favorite piece of pussy," Nathan said as He slipped the back of Kevin's speedo down past his ass cheeks and down to the ground. Grabbing Kevin's glutes, Nathan spread them wide open to show Mark the boy's swollen battered hole.

"Look how hot. Newly cunted. Just made for My cock," Nathan said sneering. "If I keep fucking him like this, he'll even have pussy lips after a while." Kevin let out a loud sob.

"Mark, please leave. For me," Kevin said as tears rolled off his cheeks down his chest. Kevin could feel Nathan's cock head about to penetrate him.

"But Kevin," Mark said, protesting.

"I don't want you to see this. Please don't watch Him fuck me," Kevin said, almost hysterically.

"You don't have to do this, Kevin. You can yell. The rest of the guys will come to us, get Him away from you," Mark said, clearly distressed by what he was watching.

"And do what?" Nathan interrupted. "Watch as Kevin lets Me fuck him? Watch him moan about how much he loves it because I'll beat the shit out of him if he doesn't?" Nathan grinned, knowing there was little that Mark could do about it. Kevin would do whatever Nathan told him.

Turning back to Kevin, Nathan said almost sweetly, "Your tears make me rock hard, baby girl. I think I'm going to have to fuck you really long and hard this time. Would you like that?" Kevin just nodded his head in submission, not quite a yes, but definitely not a no. He knew Nathan would do whatever He wanted whether he agreed or not.

"Please go, Mark," Kevin pleaded with his friend one final time. Mark started to say something but didn't. He just shook his head as he turned to leave.

As Mark walked away bewildered as to why Kevin did nothing to stop Nathan or to even let him do something about what was happening, he heard Kevin let out a muffled scream joined by Nathan’s grunts of pleasure.

For Kevin's sake, he hoped that the other people at the party couldn't hear them. Even if they did, they'd probably ignore it. They knew Nathan’s reputation. None of the other guys wanted to be in Kevin's place. A few however wouldn't mind taking a turn at Kevin's newly cunted "pussy," if Nathan would allow it.

A brief thought came to Mark. If you had to fuck a guy, Kevin was about as hot as it gets. While he felt bad for Kevin, if he wouldn't do anything, this was his life from now on.

Two things bothered Mark. He just couldn't understand why Kevin wouldn't stand up for himself. And second, adjusting his own hard on, why was he so turned on hearing Nathan fuck his best friend against his will?

If he would allow himself to admit it, Mark was a little jealous. Deep down, he felt that if anybody should have been fucking Kevin, it should have been him. And now that Nathan had maybe he would too.

If Kevin was going to allow himself to be treated like a girl, Mark had his needs as well.

[cali-fag-1995]

Future read…

[cali-fag-1995]

All these make perfect sense to me!

[chastityslave62]

[cali-fag-1995]

Wow! I wanna try being geofenced!!