Disclaimer: The following account is a fictional story of sex between men. If you are not allowed to read such stories by any reasons, do not do so. Otherwise, enjoy. The story is mostly about the act of fucking between two, three, and four men/boys. There are also some fictional scenes about tortures being done to Prisoners Of War (POW). Please note that none of these are real, none of them inspired by anything but my sick twisted mind, and none of them practice safe sex. I strongly implore you to practice safe sex all the time, and this is nothing but a story. Real life can be very different. If the language seems to be a little off, that is intended. It is meant to express the characteristic of the story. Any comments and feedbacks are welcomed.
No one knows what it's like to feel the way I am feeling right now, looking into those deep blue eyes, with so much mysteries hidden underneath, with so much love unshown, and scars unhealed. It captivates me. It binds me in its spell. All I want to do is look into those eyes, and have it looking back at me, with much the same love and admiration as I have shown it, but that is not to be. He will never love me the way I love him. I may have his body, but I will never have his soul. I will never have what's beneath those blue eyes.
"Don't leave me." I say. "I love you. I don't care if you fool around outside. I don't care if you are unfaithful to me. I don't care if you want me to be your slave, just don't leave me."
"You know I cannot give you what you need." He says.
"I know, but having some of you is still better than having none of you at all."
"It's not fair to you. It's not fair and you know I cannot stop doing those things. You cannot change what I have become."
"Maybe not, but I can try. And if I fail, I can wait for you to change by yourself. And if that takes a million years, I will wait for you. And if you won't change, then I will take you for who you are. Just don't leave me."
"Why do you hurt yourself over me?"
"Because I love you."
"You know I don't feel the same way."
"I know, but that does not matter. I may not have your heart, but having your body is half the battle won."
"You are just a fuckhole for me, you know that."
"Yes. So fuck me. Fill my hole."
And fuck me he did. With one single push, his giant cock was in me. I gasp still, even after so many times being plugged by that huge weapon, I gasp still. The sheer volume of it fills my inner sanctum. I feel it throbs. I feel its warmth. When he moves, when he pulls out his love pole, I feel the vacuum inside me, the emptiness he leaves inside, only to be rewarded by the satisfactory fulfillment of his man meat sliding back in, filling me once more, filling the hole(s) inside of me, and brushing at my most sensitive spots, sending shockwaves of pleasures up and down my spine, all over my body.
He fucks rough. He pistons his cock in and out of me faster and faster. No foreplay. No finger fucking. No worshipping his cock with my mouth. He likes to go in dry and he doesn't like to use protection. He doesn't play with my nipples or nibble at my ears and neck when he is fucking me doggy style. He doesn't reach around and masturbates me, or give gentle squeezes at my balls. He doesn't kiss, or stick a finger into my mouth. He just fucks.
He doesn't like missionary style, but neither does he like doggy style. He likes me on my side, lifting one of my legs up over his shoulder, spreading my ass wide open for his cock to spear me in and out, over and over. My arms would flail around as he pump me with his cock, unable to take the pleasure he is providing me. One hand holding on to my uprise leg and the other over my shoulder, he would just slide his cock in and out, in and out, sometimes he will twist to the sides a little, but always in and out, in and out, sometimes rapidly and with short jabs, but always in and out, in and out, sometimes long and slow strokes, but always in and out, in and out.
He would fuck me this way, and when he sense that I am about to cum, he would flip me on my back, made me look at him, and keeps on pumping me. With both hands, he would clasp them around my hard cock, and began to rub them like he was trying to make a fire from stick and stones. The famous boy scout manouvre. Just before I reach climax, he would grab my cock with both his hands, and pump all the way up, then all the way down. The pain is excruciating, the way he pulls on it, and the orgasm will cum, my ejaculation activated, sperms will flow from my balls into the ducts, soon mix with fluids produced by the prostate, and the length of my cock will shoot the cum out of my body, flying everywhere, landing on both of our entwined bodies.
He would keep doing this long after my orgasm has ended, which will turn it into torture, and my ass muscles will continue to contract, massaging his cock that is still pumping into me, and eventually will bring him to the climax he is seeking, and with one roar, he would let go of my cock, grab my hips with both his hands, sometimes digging the flesh with his fingernails, and pump gallons of cum into my bowels. He would keep fucking me as he cums, and even after he cums. He would keep fucking until he can fuck no more, until his cock is soft and finally shrinks out of my ass with audible popping sounds.
But sometimes, like today, he would stay hard even after orgasm and keeps on fucking. He would repeat the scenario all over again. Me on my side, one leg up his shoulder, he would use his own cum to lubricate his pumping, and this time it will last longer. He would fuck me till I get hard again. He would fuck me till I cum again. He would fuck me again and again until he cums again, and if he is still hard after that, he would do it all over again.
I don't understand it. Why would he risk everything to want me? Why am I so important to him? He knows of my past. He knows what I have been through when I was a POW. They broke me. They tortured me everyday. Sexually. I was fucked, made to be a cocksucker and a slave to their cruel soldiers. And when I didn't co-operate, they were only too happy to put me through their demented tortures. I was shaved from head to toe, kept naked all the time. They had a security collar around my neck that disabled me from going over the other side of the fence, unless I want my brain to be fried.
Sometimes they would just fuck me and leave me. Sometimes, they would strap me to a chair or down on a table, crush my balls just to hear me scream, whip my cock just to see me cry. They would put crocodile clamps on my nipples and connect them to batteries that shocked me into a trance, then they would let me rest, and then do it all over again. When I fought them, I would be brought to the field, hung up between two posts, whipped and lashed, flogged and caned, and after they were done, they would leave me there for hours, sometimes even days.
How many times have I wanted to take my own life when I was in that camp? I lost count. But they were only thoughts. I could never have done it, not because I didn't have the guts to, but didn't have the chance to. They have our wrists and ankles secure at all times, even when they are using us as sex toys. I was once thrown naked on a table, ankles chained together, my head and hands held by a metal bar, and I could only scream when the Major fucked me mercilessly, then his Sergeant, then his Luitenant, then the entire corp. They did it in the cafeteria until it was chow time. I was pushed to a corner as they ate. I sat there hungry, my ass bruised, watching them eat. That was the day I lost my soul.
And he wanted me to change? He believed his love can restore my soul? I am incapable of love. When the war ended and we were freed from the POW camp, most of us are no longer who we used to be. I resigned from the army not long after, and spent my time wandering from place to place. I don't have any family. That's why I joined the army. I prowl the streets and bars, looking for pretty innoncent boys to pick up, then I will follow them back to their place and I will fuck them until they are a whimpering mess like how I was reduced to.
Sometimes they are kinky, and asks me to tie them up or use clamps on them. Some wants me to go rough, whip them, torture them. I took it out on them. What they did to me I repaid it to these boys. They are always willing. Even as I sit here in this dingy bar in the middle of nowhere, I have already spotted two cute boys staring at me. One is kinky, I can tell by the chains he wears on his hip. The other likes vanilla. I can tell. I have fucked so many before, and there will be so many more to come. So you see, I cannot be faithful. I cannot change. I have lost my soul and now I just want to fuck. I just want to pay back what they did to me. I want to fuck all of them as how they fucked me.
So I followed the first boy home, after asking the second boy to join us. As I mentioned, the first one is kinky. The moment we are in his house, he wanted me to tie him up and then slash his clothes open. I did just that, and left him there as I fuck the second boy in front of him. I push and pull my cock out of that sweet ass right in front him, and there was nothing he could do to change the situation. He was tied spread-eagle to the bed, I gagged him with his own underwear, and no one is playing with him. After I was done with the second boy, I had him suck the tied-up guy. I needed a rest before the night is over, and the night is far from over. I noticed that fact when I saw who was standing at the door.
The kid tied-up on the bed was screaming as much as his gag allowed him, letting his father seeing him in such a predicament. But I was even more shocked than he is, meeting my former General this way. We left the kids to their own games, and I sat down with him for a drink and a talk he had long wanted to have with me ever since the day I gave him that resignation letter. I didn't pour my heart out to him, but he knew all that has happened to us who were in the POW camp. It seems, I am the only one still surviving. The rest killed themselves long ago. Can't say I am surprised.
The General didn't play around. He opened his pants and pulled out his long cock, beckoning me to move over there and suck him. Maybe it was instinct from my time as a POW, maybe I really wanted it, because I just got off my seat, moved to him, sank down to my knees, and gently began to service him. Nestled his balls on my tongue I bathe them and suck on them. I enveloped his cock with my moist mouth and apply sucking pressure and pleasure until the General was moaning loudly.
When the foreplay was complete, he grabbed me by the waist, turned me around, and pushed me down on his big cock. I was impaled on it, sitting on his lap, as he began to thrust his hip up and down, up and down. With both hands, he went up to my nipples and pinch each of them in each hand. He was pumping me hard and I was bumping up and down on his lap as his son and the cute boy from the bar came in. He called his son over to suck me, and the other kid to rim his son's ass. No one was complaining.
When he thought we were ready, he had the kid braced against a table, then directing his son to slid his cock into the kid, but don't start fucking yet. He then stood up with me still impaled on him, his body dwarves mine, he moved us towards the two kids and inserted my cock into his son's asshole. When we were in place, he began to fuck. Each thrust into my ass made me fuck his son, and in turn made his son fuck the kid last on the line. He kept this four-man-fuck-sandwich moving for a long time, until his son shot a load into the kid's ass, then I shot a load into his son's ass, and finally he shot a load into mine.
The kid last on the line was still hard and hasn't shot his load, so we held him down and the General sucked him off, twice consecutively. The kid was a crying mess when we were done with him. I still remember how they used to milk us in that POW camp. Why they needed our semen sample, I have no idea. We would be strapped down to a chair and a machine would be attached to out cocks, and once started, it would make us cum and cum and cum. We were always in a group of five when these milking sessions were in order, so we would watch and hear each other curse and scream as semen were extracted from our balls over and over again.
Did I make him mad? He just left after fucking me. He didn't say a word. I know what he has been through. I am no soldier but I know what he has been through. And even if I don't, I don't care. It is him that I want. That look he gives me. His beautiful blue eyes that seem to be so empty. I know his soul could still be saved. I know there is still something left in him. I know if I could just get in there, inside him, I would be able to set it free and bring him back to the man he once was. Not that he is not a man right now, with his perfected muscled body, his crew cut, deep-seated jaws and giant cock and balls that would plow me into oblivion, he is all man.
Even though he just fucked me twice, it makes me so horny just thinking about his body. My ass tickles. I can finger fuck myself, because his cum is still wet inside me. Ahh, a finger inside my ass feels so loose, two is better. No matter how I twist and turn and push and pull my fingers into my ass, I can never reach the deepest part of me that can only be reached when he is fucking me. Yes, playing with myself on the bed, doggy style, three fingers up my ass, thinking of him, makes me so hot. I am thinking of him. I want him. I want him walking through that door right now.
And he does. There he stood, looking at me, playing with myself. He didn't say a word. The light behind him and the darkness inside the room made me unable to see his face, but the silhouette of his body is so erotic, so arousing to me that I turned around, and push my ass up in the air, presenting it to him. I heard him remove his clothes, I heard him moving closer to me, and I felt it as he pushed his cock into my ass, and began pumping me.
The bed shook by the force of his fucking. Both his hands on my back, he pushes his waist back and forward, back and forward, thrusting his cock into my ass, and pounding on my prostate. I moaned and groaned out loud, not ashamed of the pleasure my body is experiencing. His fucking grow faster and stronger, and then I felt him tensed, and he cummed again into my welcoming ass. He collasped on top of me, and I supported our weight on all four. And I thought I heard him cry.
I slowly place him down on the bed, letting him rest, his tears-stained face finally relax. He looked up at me and I thought I saw something there. Something there, beneath those blue eyes.
Author's Note: Please bear in mind that this is a fictional story, and the danger or STDs and AIDS does not apply. Always practice safe sex. Any comments welcomed.