WARNING: This story contains sexual acts between young adult males and/or females. If you do not enjoy this type of material, or if it is illegal in your country or place of residence, please stop reading immediately. This story is not in any way an accurate depiction of reality, and any relations to real persons or acts that may appear within are unintentional. THIS STORY IS FICTION.
NIFTY: If you enjoy this story, take some time to donate to nifty.org!
DISCLAIMER: This story was written purely for the enjoyment of readers. It should not be reposted or reproduced without the writer's consent. Please do not read this if you are under the legal age or if it is illegal to do so in your place of residence.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Early drafts of future chapters and/or other work may be available first at www.conormonaghan.com. The author would love to hear your feedback on the story at conor.monaghan.writing@gmail.com
Justin Bieber was straight.
Jesus, he was straight. He had never done anything remotely homosexual in his life, despite the nasty rumors that haters spread during the early days of Bieber Fever. No, Justin Bieber was attracted to women. And the world had caught on for the most part. There weren't any Justin Bieber gay jokes in 2020. People had seen him half naked and fully naked with enough women at this point to admit the truth. Hell, he was married. Married to a beautiful woman. People knew he and Hailey spent most of their time in the sack nowadays, her worshipping every inch of his body like a good wife should, submitting to his nasty desires on any given day. And he was pretty nasty in bed, deeply kinky, had been since the age of fourteen when he first became addicted to sex. He was a bit of a sex god, and he knew it, the object of masturbatory fantasies across the world for girls and boys alike. He didn't work out now like he used to: his body had deteriorated over time and become slightly more slim, less muscular, and he didn't flaunt it quite as frequently, didn't take the time to walk around outside shirtless or go water skiing in his white underwear knowing full-well that they would become translucent the moment they were soaked with water, and he was of course a husband now, so he wasn't fucking a new woman every other day, but in the end he was still Justin Bieber and none of these facts could make him less sexually appealing than he always had been.
Justin Bieber was still a pussy-obsessed fuckboy. No, he was THE fuckboy. And proud of it.
So why the fuck was he on his knees about to lick someone's balls?
It was a stupid bet. Let's face it, Shawn Mendes had been out to get Justin for quite some time, though Justin never really suspected it. After all, Shawn was always that soft, genuine soul, the incorruptible guy who treated women like royalty, who stared into your eyes and listened when you spoke, and held you with a warmth and tenderness that most guys couldn't fathom. He was the ideal boy, the boy of every girl's dreams, but also not the boy that girls actually wanted to fuck. Girls married Shawn Mendes, but they fucked Justin Bieber. To Justin, Shawn was always weak, someone who Justin bullied whenever presented with the proper opportunity. His actions weren't truly malevolent, but they were consisted, documented in the occasional snide remark on Instagram: "Gonna have to break a few more records before you dethrone me little bud...but if you want we can play hockey for it but I heard your a real bender on the ice." He congratulated himself on the double entendre. Never mind that Shawn stood more than half a foot taller than Justin. Or: "You got a big ole mouth." A seemingly random comment selected to feed the Shawn Mendes Is Gay rumors.
The rumors were probably true. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been so easy for Justin to steal Hailey from Shawn while the two of them were dating. Justin stole her and wifed her almost overnight. For Justin, it was simply further evidence of his own sex appeal, and he saw no reason for any hard feelings to develop between him and Shawn. As far as Shawn was concerned, he probably wasn't even aware that Justin and Hailey had been fucking while they were dating. It never occurred to him that Shawn might hate him for stealing his girlfriend, even a year later after Justin and Hailey had become husband and wife. It never occurred to him that Shawn Mendes might have been waiting to get back at him.
You could argue that Justin had been stupid to accept the bet in the first place. The bet was asinine, a spur-of-the-moment metaphorical dick measuring contest that emerged from the heat of competitive sports. They were playing a game of three-on-three street hockey to escape the boredom of quarantine. Justin, Niall Horan, and Justin's childhood friend Ryan Butler on one team. Shawn, Nick Jonas, and Shawn's fellow mag-con star Cameron Dallas on the other. It was hot as balls out, midday, and the boys were each drenched in sweat. Justin and Shawn had abandoned the top half of their clothing and were skating around shirtless. The game had begun friendly enough, but some unspoken tension between Justin and Shawn seemed to surface over the course of the match. Stripping their shirts could have been attributed to the Los Angeles heat, but it was probably more about asserting dominance, or something like that. They started getting rougher and rougher with each play, and it was a wonder with all of the shoving that they were doing that Justin's shorts managed to cling to his ass, weighed down by his own sweat with the cotton of his white underwear on display.
Eventually, the shit talking reached a boiling point and the bet had been made. You don't make a bet with another dude about whether or not he fucks your wife's pussy better than you do, but that was exactly what Justin Bieber did. It was simple math in his mind. Hailey and Shawn dated. Justin fucked Hailey while she and Shawn had dated. Justin wifed Hailey. Clearly, he was the better fuck. It never occurred to him that she might be married to him for other reasons. So the bet was made, and a few minutes later, Shawn was texting Hailey with all the boys gathered around in a circle as witnesses. It was Justin's idea to have Shawn text Hailey. Hailey was out of town and had no idea the boys were all playing hockey together, so she wouldn't suspect anything. On top of that, Justin figured Shawn would pussy out.
But he didn't.
SHAWN: I have to know...better in bed: me or the Biebs? HAILEY: Well hello to you too! SHAWN: Seriously! I'm just curious :upside_down_smiley: HAILEY: I'm just going to plead the fifth :smiley: SHAWN: It's just a question! HAILEY: I am not answering that Shawn Mendes :upside_down_smiley: SHAWN: I have to know!! HAILEY: I can't with you! :crying_and_laughing_face: SHAWN: Tell me! HAILEY: You already know SHAWN: Say it. HAILEY: Stop it! :crying_and_laughing_face: SHAWN: Say it. HAILEY: Fine! You fuck like a god and Justin fucks like a little horny teenager :smiley_with_no_mouth: HAILEY: Happy!? :kiss_smiley: SHAWN: Yes :smiley:
Of all the possible ways that Justin imagined this conversation might have played out, the reality was so much worse. His entire face flushed red in defeat. No, it wasn't just defeat: it was humiliation. A worse fuck than Shawn Mendes...really? The guy was barely 21 years old and literally had panic attacks when people called him gay. How could he be a better pussy fucker than Justin? Justin had literally fucked hundreds of women...a horny teenager...
But he had lost the bet. The loser had to lick the balls of the winner. Right then, right there, in the middle of the pavement, in full view of everyone involved, the humiliated loser had to get down on his knees and lick the balls of the winner. Nick Jonas and Cameron Dallas were laughing their asses off. Niall was silent, the one truly decent dude among them. Ryan's reaction was the one that hit Justin the hardest. He was laughing even harder than Cameron and Nick, and he made sure Justin didn't have a way out. "You can't be a pussy now, bud. You fucking got destroyed by Shawn...anyway, it's just a quick...lick," he finished before he fell to the ground in a fresh fit of laughter. The guys liked Justin just as much as anyone could, but there was something deeply satisfying about watching him get publicly emasculated like that, embarrassed by his wife and hopefully now teabagged by the last guy she fucked.
Justin tried to calm himself, simultaneously flushed with anger, panic, and embarrassment. He was straight, and even though he was about to lick another dude's balls, he was still going to go home after this and fuck Hailey. He still had the girl. The bet was stupid, a stupid fucking decision, but it was no big thing. But he quickly discovered it was in fact a big thing.
A very big fucking thing. Justin wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't the reality. The truth was that he had not only seen the Calvin Klein ads, but he had obsessively compared the photographs of he and Shawn in their underwear. Sure, the artists at Calvin Klein had photoshopped his bulge to make it look fuller, but he figured they did that for everyone. As for Shawn's underwear ads, they didn't hint at anything "big". They didn't hint at much of anything at all, for that matter. His package looked as flat as a fucking board in his white Calvin Klein underwear. Not even a hint of penis. So when Justin did reluctantly slip four fingers of either hand beneath the damp waistband of Shawn's underwear, pulling the white Calvin Kleins and shorts down, his mouth dropped open. The first few inches revealed a bush. No, not a bush...a forest. Shawn had chest hair, real chest hair, but his torso was very well-manicured and his happy trail was carefully trimmed, but as soon as you dipped below the waistband of his underwear, a forest of wild pubic hair was waiting. The effect on Justin was almost unconscious. Over the course of their marriage, Hailey had been pressuring Justin to trim his pubes shorter and shorter, which disturbed his natural desire to grow them out naturally "like a man" as he put it. Growing out his mustache and showing it off to the world was his final rebellion. It ended with the mustache and his pubic area shaved clean by a razor at Hailey's command. And now it resurfaced in Justin's unconscious mind in a very big way, because he had been stripped of his manhood and was now reminded of it as he gazed upon the body of a man who hadn't been stripped of his. From there, it got worse. Nestled in the center of the pubic hair was the root of a thick shaft. Without support, Shawn's shorts fell to the ground as Justin lowered his underwear, but the shaft never ended. Justin had to lower the underwear almost to Shawn's knees before the huge cock was finally free. It was seven inches long, as wide as Justin's wrist, and completely flaccid. Behind it hung two massive balls. Behind, not below, because the dick was so huge that it hung down below his balls, the entire package collectively suspended low between Shawn's legs at the mercy of its own weight.
That moment was the turning point. Even if nothing else had happened afterwards that day, that was the moment Justin Bieber had been changed forever. There was no more parading around shirtless. No more "accidentally" being photographed walking around naked to show off his penis. Because he would never feel confident in the size of his package again. Because the reality was that his cock wasn't big anymore. It never had been. From that moment on, whether he knew it then or not, it would never be about his dick again, that little piece of meat tucked away in his underwear. It was about something else, even though it would be a long time before he realized that. At that moment, he was looking at a man's cock.
"I think someone likes what they see, Shawn. He can't stop staring." Cameron joked.
"Fuck you." Justin replied venomously, still red in the face, but finally removed from his trance. The boys had been talking shit for an entire minute, but it was only the last comment that finally filtered through the noise to wake Justin. But Cameron was right. He was staring.
Shawn had only recently grown into his new role as an exhibitionist. Shirtless had become his new natural state, an opportunity to show off his body. He now had both of his arms lifted and crossed behind his head in a bodybuilding pose. He knew he looked impossibly good. His chiseled torso. His huge cock. His chest hair. The complete package. From Justin's position, he was gazing up at the body of a six foot four inch god of a man that contrasted with him at every opportunity. The long, curly hair tamed only by a headband. The thick hairy armpits now on full display. The chest landscaped with just the right amount of hair, more than Bieber himself would ever, could ever, have. The barely visible happy trail leading down to the most masculine bush Justin Bieber (or any of the boys, except maybe Nick) had ever laid eyes on. And of course the thick piece of flaccid meat hanging between Shawn's legs. It was so massive that the tip of his cock was flirting with the waistband of his white underwear despite the fact that they were pulled down nearly to his knees.
"Lick it!"
"He is fucking hypnotized by your dick, man. Literally fucking drooling."
"You can lick mine next, Bieber."
"Shit, I never thought I'd see the day. Justin Bieber on his knees for another guy."
Justin didn't even process who was saying what.
"He doesn't need encouragement guys..."
That had been Shawn's voice. And for his part, he didn't give any physical encouragement. He didn't grab Justin roughly by the back of the head and force Justin into his sweaty package. He just kept his arms flexed above his head, showing himself off to the boys and offering his sweaty body to Justin, dangling his horse cock in front of the little kid.
"...he wants to lick these sweaty nuts."
And then Justin did. He wasn't even fully aware of it until his tongue was sliding around the side of Shawn's shaft to find its way to the sack hidden behind it. He could have used his hands to just move the dick out of the way, but it didn't occur to him in the moment. Instead, Justin's hands were positioned on Shawn's waist. His eyes were closed, but his other senses were drowning. The smell was intoxicating. It wasn't anything unhygienic, as Shawn was as well-groomed as men came, but he was still a man who had spent the past hour playing hockey in the hot Los Angeles sun. He was sweaty. His entire package was radiating his natural scent, something that hit Justin like a train, like an aphrodisiac, a scent that somehow smelled more masculine than the adolescent sweat smell that Justin's body produced. As his tongue slid across the surface of Shawn's shaft and fondled the balls nestled behind it, he realized that cock and balls were both drenched in sweat, salty and slick and wet to the tongue. They were covered in hair, not a lot, nothing like his dense bush, but he obviously didn't shave his balls like Justin. He could feel the hairs scratching the surface of his tongue.
The realization hit him again. He was tonguing Shawn's fucking package. He, Justin Bieber, the literal definition of a fuckboy, was on his knees, fondling the sweaty ball sack of Shawn Mendes with his tongue. The boys around him, a varied assortment of horny dudes, all Justin's sexual inferiors, were watching on and laughing. The salty taste began to dissipate, something that should have registered as a sign that his tongue had long since over-delivered on its end of the bet, that he should have removed his mouth from Shawn's goods, but instead his tongue continued to discover new regions of the balls that were still salty, still covered in the sweat and musk of Shawn Peter Raul Mendes.
"Take your time, Bieber. Enjoy it."
He was talking shit, but the words sounded so delicate coming from Shawn's lips. Enjoy it? Enjoy what? What was there to enjoy? Licking the ball sweat off another dude. Then again, what he was doing at that moment didn't really qualify as licking. His jaw was wide open and the entire bag was stuffed in his mouth, both balls. The same balls that had relieved themselves who knows how many times in his wife. And now they were in his mouth.
"I won't blame you if you suck it a little."
And that's all it took. Justin let the sack fall from his mouth, now drenched in a thick layer of his own spit, and he took the tip of the penis into his mouth. A salty taste returned, his mouth greeted by a new piece of Shawn's package that Justin hadn't yet obediently cleaned, but this time the flavor was more than just the salt of sweat. His tongue picked up on something thicker, slicker, stronger in flavor. He let the head of Shawn's penis rest inside his mouth for a long time, riding out the taste, while Shawn eased more and more of his dick into Justin's warm mouth, so patiently that Justin didn't even realize what was happening until the head pierced the back of his throat. By that time, Justin registered that the flavor was Shawn's semen. His jaw was nearly dislocated, stretched in every direction to accommodate the piece of man meat, his eyes drowned in tears as Shawn's sperm dripped down into his stomach.
"You know, when I said I wouldn't blame you if you sucked it, I was talking about my ball sack. But it looks like you found something that you like to suck on more. Hailey likes it too."
And again Justin crashed back down to reality. The heat returned to his cheeks, and his eyes quickly opened. But whatever rage had flared up evaporated just as fast upon realizing that despite having his mouth stuffed so full of cock that he could barely breathe, half of Shawn's length still sat unsatisfied between his lips and the forest of hair rooted in Shawn's pubic region. The flaccid seven inch dick had become a hard ten inch one.
And then his fate was sealed.
It all happened so fast that Justin could barely process it. When he looked up into Shawn's eyes, he also saw the lens of a phone camera looking down at him. At the same time, the hands of Cameron Dallas dug into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them clear off, down to his knees. Then he heard the shutter of the camera.
"HOLY SHIT, he's fucking HARD!"
In the days that followed, those words haunted Justin, as did the sounds of laughter from the group of boys that accompanied them. Shawn hadn't laughed. He had just smirked. Justin couldn't forget that either. But the words didn't just haunt him because he was hard while his mouth was stuffed with Shawn's sweaty pole. It wasn't even because there were boys around to witness him acting like a cock-hungry faggot. No, as he stared at the picture on his phone, the words haunted him because he WAS hard and his cock looked so small in comparison to Shawn's. He had always taken pride in the size of his dick and the belief that people respected him for that, if nothing else. But in that moment he had been castrated. His slender 6.5 inches was standing up from his shaved pelvis as hard and big as it would ever get, exposed in plain sight for everyone to see, juxtaposed against the ten inches of man penis hanging down from Shawn's hairy bush. The penis of a horny teenager and a god.
In the end, the picture was a form of blackmail, for a time. It was a threat, and all the incentive Shawn needed to force Justin into repeating the act regularly. Sometimes it was in the darkness of Shawn's flat in Toronto and sometimes it was in Justin's house, in the same bed where he fucked his wife. They developed a routine. Shawn would strip down to his Calvin Klein underwear, and Justin would join him and hook the waistband of Shawn's underwear beneath his balls and lick his cock and balls until they were drenched in spit and Shawn eventually fed Justin his load. Sometimes Shawn would nut in the back of Justin's throat. Sometimes he'd give him a facial and feed the semen to Justin with his large fingers. Sometimes he would bust on his stomach and chest and watch Justin lick it up drop by drop.
Shawn noticed that Justin was always hard during it, so he let Justin jerk off.
He intentionally found new places to shoot his load, places that encouraged Justin and his tongue to become more adventurous. As a result, Justin had moved beyond Shawn's penis and his balls to explore the area around them, his tongue navigating the dense humid forest of Shawn's bush. Sometimes, Shawn would drop some of his own spit in thick wads onto his penis or his balls or his pubic hair just to watch Justin and his tongue devour it with long, slow licks. Justin's tongue eventually followed the trail of semen up Shawn's happy trail to his chest. It roamed Shawn's hairy chest, again evidence of the man that Shawn was that Justin would never be, and Justin learned to worship every one of those hairs as they were coated in sperm over the weeks that followed. Eventually Justin's tongue roamed even where semen didn't reach. To Shawn's hairy armpits, which exuded an entirely different masculine scent than even his pubic area offered. His tongue scaled the hair of Shawn's thighs until it found its way down to Shawn's feet. Shawn walked around barefoot a lot, so his feet were always salty and a little bit sweaty, and Justin learned to clean them, toe by toe, licking around and suckling each before his tongue made its way to the rough sole.
By the time some semen drifted beneath Shawn's balls to his taint, Justin had become so submissive, such a slave for Shawn's body that just the act of licking Shawn's naked body turned him on. More often than not, he ejaculated more frequently during their sessions than Shawn himself. So it was no surprise that when Justin's tongue followed the semen behind Shawn's balls for the first time, to his taint and then his ass crack, Justin came instantly.
So Shawn taught Justin control. Shawn made him wait, longer and longer each time, to touch himself, denying Justin even the small dignity of pleasure while worshipping Shawn's body. Despite the orgasm denial, Justin's tongue found its way again and again behind Shawn's balls to his taint and to his hairy ass crack. The scent and taste was overpowering, but the humiliation was even more intense, the naked reality of what he was doing, that he was eating Mendes ass. At first, the orgasm denial was only for five or ten minutes. But then it was twenty. Then an hour. An hour of Shawn just laying there while Justin ate his ass with no release, no illusions that anything was happening other than Justin pleasuring Shawn's hole. Usually, Shawn would lay back on the couch and spread his legs just enough to let Bieber's tongue find his hole. Sometimes, he would lay Justin on the couch and sit on his face, staring at Justin's twitching cock leaking pre-fuck while he smothered the boy with his man ass.
One time, Shawn realized a few minutes too late that he had taken a dump earlier in the day and subsequently forgotten to shower before Justin had started eating his ass. Since the day Justin's tongue had first found its way to his taint, he had always taken care to shower before. But if Justin had noticed that day that his hole wasn't clean, he didn't say anything, and so Shawn stopped showering for Justin all together. It was kind of intimate in a way, Justin licking Shawn's asshole in its most natural form. Tasting raw Mendes ass without limitations.
One day, after a long workout, Shawn came home and collapsed onto Justin's bed on his stomach. Hailey was out of town, and Shawn had already stripped down to his underwear, ready to pass out. But Bieber slid onto the bed behind him. Shawn felt Justin's nervous hands slip beneath the waistband of his underwear and ease them down. Then he felt the tongue snake between the clefts of his ass, down deep into his hairy ass crack. Justin was eating his ass. Shawn was still sweaty from the workout, and he had used the restroom at the gym, but Justin was completely unfazed. What had he done to the poor Justin Bieber? The picture that he had used as "blackmail" when this all started had been long since forgotten. Justin Bieber was hooked. Hooked on his sweat. Hooked on his balls. Hooked on his cock. Hooked on his hair. Hooked on eating his ass. Justin was good for nothing but this now; he spent more time eating Mendes ass then he did pleasuring his own wife in bed. The train of thought went round and round in Shawn's mind, and suddenly the urge hit him and he farted in Justin's face. He wasn't sure why, but it seemed like the right thing to do at that moment, the next step in Bieber's descent. Perhaps Bieber would be disgusted. Perhaps a line had finally been crossed, that there was something too degrading and too filthy for Justin's slut mouth. But instead, Bieber fucking moaned. Shawn didn't let Justin touch his cock at all that day, scolding him each time he reached down to stroke his leaking rod while eating his ass. He just sat there and enjoyed it, savored the feeling of Justin Bieber tonguing his ass, letting gas out of his hole whenever it felt natural, feeding it to Justin, who moaned each and every time as small spurts of pre-semen gushed out onto the mattress. Eventually, Shawn turned over and offered Justin his cock, who sucked it until Shawn bust a fat nut in his mouth.
As he often did afterwards, Shawn got up to piss. But he did something different that day. He walked to the restroom ass naked, leaving his discarded underwear on the ground. Justin was desperate, because he hadn't been allowed to touch himself, but also because he was obsessed with the taste and smell and feel of licking Shawn's body, of eating his ass. He already missed the feel and taste of his tongue circling the hairs on Shawn's rim. He needed to cum, right then. He fell down to the floor and stuffed his face in Shawn's dirty underwear, inhaling and licking at the same time, desperate to have his senses flooded by Shawn. Within seconds, he felt the orgasm building...he was so close...oh fuck...fuck...he was going to cum.
"Get your hand off your dick."
Justin let go of his penis instantly.
He felt Shawn grab him by his hair and pull his head back.
"I know you're addicted to it. I'll let you lick them, but you're not going to cum tonight."
And he didn't. That was the day that Shawn introduced Justin Bieber to the chastity device. It was an ultimatum. Justin could lick his underwear as much as he wanted that night. And they could continue to fuck around. Justin could continue to worship him, lick his feet and his sweaty balls and his penis and his armpits and his chest hair and his dirty ass crack, but only as long as his dick was trapped in the cage all day every day. The moment he took it off for the first time was the moment whatever this was ended. He was offering Justin Bieber a choice. A choice between pleasuring the body of Shawn Mendes and his own nut.
And so Justin's cock was put in the chastity device. Shawn had selected it carefully. It was extremely tiny, about two inches, and steel-ringed. By that time, Justin and Hailey were not having sex often. Justin figured she wouldn't notice a few days without his bone. He just had to remember to wear underwear around the house and avoid placing himself in any position that might encourage Hailey to rub against his crotch or fondle his penis in bed. She couldn't find out. It would only be a day or two. He just needed to eat ass one last time.
But it was a week before Shawn allowed Justin to meet up with him again. And it wasn't enough. One week in the cock cage became two. And then two weeks became a month. Somewhere in that time, Shawn introduced Justin to a new pleasure to replace his caged dick: his own ass. Shawn started with a finger. He had Justin on his hands and knees on the couch, sucking his huge cock while he fingered Bieber's tight, hairless hole. Before Justin Bieber knew it, he was taking cock up his ass. Ten inches of meat in his straight hole.
When Shawn popped Justin's cherry, he did it doggystyle, teaching Bieber how to arch his back like boys should when they take cock up their hole. But he grew to prefer the missionary position, because he could overwhelm Bieber's senses, make him forget all about the limp penis between his legs. In the missionary position, Shawn towered over Bieber and he could feed Justin while ass fucking him. He might stick a finger or two in Bieber's mouth and let him lick or suck on them, often the same fingers that he had used only minutes before to open up Justin's ass. Sometimes he would wad up a pair of underwear and stuff them in Bieber's mouth or drape over his face so his tongue could lap at the dirty cotton. Most of the time they were his underwear, but occasionally he would feed Justin a pair of his own dirty Calvin Kleins to acquaint him with the inferior smell and taste of his own ass. Sometimes, Justin's lips would simply roam Shawn's chest as the sex god hovered above him, circling Shawn's nipples and searching for sweat hidden in his chest hair. Other times, Shawn would drop loads of spit onto Bieber's lips and watch him lick them up as he twisted Bieber's nipples and left long, deep, blood-red scratches on his smooth chest, eliciting long, deep, guttural moans. And sometimes, Shawn would let the key to the chastity cage dangle from his neck and watch as Justin Bieber suckled on the cold metal, his imprisoned, useless cock rotating in circles as Shawn rhythmically fucked his cock deep into Bieber's hole, gaping and loose and spilling out semen and gurgling with wet sound as it was destroyed.
Shawn thought about telling Justin that Hailey knew everything. He thought about telling Justin that he had been fucking her for months. But what the fuck did it even matter at that point?