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< BREAKING BAKER MAYFIELD > < entry ten >
"(UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNNNN!! FUCK! OH FUCK! UGHNN! FUCK!! PLEASE!! FUCK!!! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNNN! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! UGHNN!!!!!!!!!)" Baker couldn't believe what was happening, trying desperately to muffle his own girlish cries with both hands, feeling his beefy chest and torso slam against hard metal over and over and over. The recently-crowned NFL number one overall draft's boxers and black shorts pooled around his ankles and Nike sneakers. Baker's black, long-sleeved henley shirt was soaked with sweat, as was his cap-less mop of dark brown hair. Bent over the hood of a police SUV, the Cleveland Browns newest quarterback whimpered into his hands every time that cop's thick, long cock slammed into his jock hole, bottoming out deep inside him over and over at an unbearable, jackhammer pace. "(UGHNNN! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! UGHNN!!!!!!!!!)
The grill of the SUV was already coated with Baker's thick, creamy cum; the quarterback had barely lasted two minutes with a cock pummeling his hole before violent spurts of cum accidentally erupted from his six-inch, beer-can of a cock. Now, feeling the sting from the cop's hand suddenly pulling on his drenched hair, feeling the hot, burning on his plump ass cheek where the cop continued to strike and spank, feeling his knees shake, feeling his sweaty, socked toes clench and flex inside those stinky Nike sneakers, feeling the ruthless pace of fucking escalate into purely animal and debauched intercourse with no discernible rhythm or pattern...
Baker begged the cop to stop between muffled grunts and whimpers. Even when he anxiously approached the cop's SUV in the dead of night, Baker pleaded for the cop to leave and leave him alone. When the cop manhandled the submissive quarterback, slamming his face down on the hood of the SUV, roughly pulling down his boxers and shorts and exposing the athlete's plum ass, Baker feebly cried out for the cop to stop. The quarterback's pathetic begging was only interrupted by his sudden shriek and gasp from the unbearable pain of brutal penetration, echoing in the darkness as he clasped his mouth with both hands, feeling his jock hole viciously fucked open with just some spit coupled with sheer force and sadistic cruelty.
But did he mean any of it? Baker's drained cock and balls remained rock hard and bounced between his thighs as he continued to get plowed like a bitch. The quarterback had lost all sense of time, just desperately trying to keep his moaning and screaming at a minimum. In that final moment when the cop buried his cock deep inside Baker's worn, broken hole, the unmistakable moment when the cop began dumping his load into that quarterback, filling Baker to the brim with cum... the moment of ecstasy and pain and humiliation... Baker's cock burst again with rope after rope after rope of jock cum until his already-aching balls were spent and emptied, again... In that moment of cumming uncontrollably and crying and gasping into his own hands, Baker managed to finally forget for a brief moment that he'd proposed to his girlfriend just hours ago, that his fiancée was deep asleep inside their home, that he'd snuck out and was being savagely sodomized in the back driveway of that very home.
...
It had been just over two months since the 2018 NFL draft; two months since the 23-year-old quarterback sped away from that rest stop; two months since Baker had to pull over on the side of the road, finally unable to hold in all the cum in his stretched and bruised ass. It'd been two months since Baker squatted against his car, his knuckles white from gripping the car handle while biting his other hand, feeling strangers semen dribble endlessly out of his worn, abused hole. while he sobbed and cried with base abandon. Two months of absolute torture and hell, of abject paranoia, of lust... of shame... of fear... of cravings... of desire. Two months of piecing together broken memories of being in the back of that police SUV... remembering how it felt... how many men... how many cocks... how hard each man had fucked him... how loud he grunted and moaned and cried... how girlish his whimpers became... how hoarse his voice sounded when begging for more... how completely broken he was... how his voice cracked when he screamed "PLEASE" and "THANK YOU" and "SIR" and "HARDER".
It had been two months of torturous charade. Baker managed to fool his girlfriend and family, who were blissfully unaware of the athlete's trauma and sheer desperation to forget his sordid indiscretions... the rest stop, the sex shop, the dungeon, the SUV... Hell, he even proposed to his girlfriend so they'd all be distracted by the engagement and leave him the fuck alone. He couldn't wait to leave, to move to Cleveland, to start the preseason training in July, to start over. To leave his vile, despicable past behind.
Now, on his knees in the darkness of his own driveway, hungrily sucking the cop's cock dry, tasting his own acrid ass on the large member and nursing on the sweet, salty cum still oozing out of the fat, mushroom head, Baker bitterly recounted how he got there... how stupid he was... how completely out of control... how careless... how horny he still was... how ashamed he was... how he couldn't stop sucking that cock.... how he hoped he'd managed to muffle his own cries enough not to wake up his fiancée and the entire neighborhood... how he really wished the cop would just throw him in the SUV, to take him somewhere so he could get fucked all night by strangers and scream his face off with abandon...
How the fuck did I end up here? How the fuck?!
...
The day after that brutal, humiliating gang bang, Baker began working out like a fiend, knowing the Cleveland Browns' training camp would begin in just three months. He'd snagged a fancy-ass gym membership so he wouldn't have to relive his depravity at the local college's gym locker room. There was no way he was going back there. He had to lock it all away, to black it all out like he'd done before. This was go time, and he simply couldn't risk succumbing to his dark, perverse desires any more. He'd be ruined if any more men found out about his whorish addiction to cock, his desperate craving to submit, his depraved obsession to service men, to be used, to be fucked.
Baker was drenched in sweat, and the quarterback was barely, barely able to ignore the unbearable emptiness in his hole thanks to hard, brutal hours he just spent at the gym. His body ached from the previous day's marathon debauchery, so the only way to forget about the pain inflicted was to induce more pain to his body. Weights, cardio, squats, repeat. The crazed quarterback went into ballistic beast mode, with every bead of sweat wiping clear of the memories of yesterday, of the days before, and the days before that. He dared not shower at the gym, staying well clear of anyone working out that day. Just go home. Just go home.
Baker's heart nearly stopped when an address popped up on his phone... almost dropping his phone in the parking lot. It was from that number... the text he knew he should've deleted and the number he knew he should've blocked... but for some reason couldn't muster the courage to do.
...
"Well, well, well..." The cop whistled at the sight of Baker, clad in just a loose-fitting tank top and running shorts, tube socks and running shoes. The beefy boy looked fit as fuck with a bandana around his forehead Those big eyes looked petrified as the athlete ambled towards the barn on the unpaved dirt road. "You really are a whore, ain't you, Baker?"
"(Please...)" Baker heard his own voice crack. After seeing that text, the quarterback was immediately filled with panic and rage and shame and confusion and everything in between, and when he'd snapped to, he was speeding towards the address located two hours away. Baker was hyperventilating as he finally parked in the middle of nowhere, spotting a barn down a small dirt path with that very police SUV parked next to it. His whole body shuddered and trembled as he, against all judgment and screaming at himself to stop, got out and approached the barn. Baker hated how pathetic and quivering his voice sounded as he quickly darted his eyes around. "(Please... what... what do you want?)"
"Just me, son... Nobody around. What, you want a repeat of yesterday?"
"No! I... I... please..." Baker felt his face flush hot red.
"You stay right there..." The cop remained seated in his rocking chair outside the barn. "Strip."
"Ex... excuse me?" The quarterback stopped dead in his tracks. His heart beat so fast he thought he'd faint.
"STRIP YOU FAGGOT!"
It's like Baker lost all sense of control, of his own limbs, of his mind, of his own agency. He'd forgotten what he'd spent all day trying to box away, to forget, to never again. Before he knew it, he'd obediently stripped off his tank and stepped out of his shorts, and who knows what he did with his sneakers. The quarterback suddenly found himself standing in the middle of the woods, meters from a cop, stripped down to his jockstrap, tube socks and bandana. Total humiliation.
"You can leave those on, kid... it's a good look for you." The cop noted how wet Baker's eyes were, how his thick, muscular chest was heaving deeply, how his toes were curling in those socks, gripping the leaves and dirt beneath. His fists were clenched tightly, and the pouch of his sweaty jock was already tented. "What do you say?"
"What??"
"WHAT. DO. YOU SAY."
"(Thank... thank, you... sir...)"
The cop spread his legs wide and unzipped his jeans, unleashing that monster cock of his. He saw the kid's teary eyes widen and heard the jock audibly gasp, that six-inch beer-can of a pecker throbbing visibly, struggling to escape the confines of the jockstrap pouch. The boy looked like he was going to either break down crying or cum right then and there.
"You want cock, Baker? You want it?"
"..."
"You want cock, FAGGOT? You want it?"
"i..."
"YOU. WANT. COCK. DON'T. YOU. FAGGOT."
"(Yes... sir...)"
"Prove it. Stroke your cock for me. Get nice and hot for daddy. Here, don't forget your friend..." The cop condescendingly smirked at Baker as he tossed to the side his hefty black baton, which landed in a patch of grass off the dirt road. The kids wet eyes were burning wild and hot now. "Come on... don't be shy... go fetch... give daddy a show... You love putting on a show... Go fetch... crawl to it..."
Before he came to his senses, Baker found himself on his knees on the patch of grass, feeling in his hands the heavy, thick baton that sodomized him just yesterday. Baker completely lost his mind. He could still smell his own ass and cum on the baton as he began licking it, slobbering all over it, choking on it, gagging on it, staring pleadingly and pathetically at the cop.
"Good boy... Good boy..." The cop watched the quarterback devour his baton, seeing the near-naked athlete cock rip his cock out of his jockstrap and sit back on his ankles, desperately stroking it as his beefy body writhed and gyrated in tandem with the tempo of his sucking and stroking. His big brown eyes watery and desperate.
"Sir... please..." Baker panted and gasped. He couldn't believe he was doing this but knew he was unable to stop himself but also unable to utter all perverse, nasty words flying through his confused, hazy mind. Even from afar the man's cock looked so massive, so thick and veiny that the quarterback had trouble believing he took it all up his ass just the day before. Humiliated yet craving the cop's attention, Baker was so turned on he could cum at any second like this... but he wanted more... he was embarrassed to admit it, hated himself for knowing it. "I... I..."
"You love showing off, don't you, Baker? Show me you woke up feeling dangerous today, son... show me how much you want this..." To the cop's surprise, or maybe no surprise at all, he watched the quarterback's eyes go dark, and without missing a beat, the quarterback spread his knees as wide as he could and roughly shoved the saliva-coated baton into his ass in one stroke from behind, letting out a screaming, painful squeal so high-pitched it shocked Baker himself.
"Yes, Sir... UGHN! UGHNN! UGHNNN!!!!!!! YES SIR! PLEASE SIR! PLEASE!!! UGHNN!!!" Baker suddenly felt the pain of penetration as he impatiently jammed the baton into his bruised hole. Repeatedly. Over and over. A crazed mania took over as he fucked himself in front of the cop... hurting himself... all he wanted was that cop's cock... that's all he could think about as he stroked his own cock as he planted that baton int he grass and rode it like a cheap whore in heat. "UGHN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!!"
"Come on son, HARDER! GO HARD BAKER! RIDE IT HARD!"
"YES SIR! YES SIR! YES SIR! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!!" Baker would've done anything at that point to get that cop to just ruin him. In his wet, blurred vision he could see the cop get off the rocking chair... He didn't even realize he was screaming at the top of his hoarse lungs. All Baker could see was that huge cock get closer and closer. Yes... yes... yes!
"Don't you cum, boy..."
"OH GOD! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!!" Baker felt that rod hitting that spot deep inside his ass... his whole body burned... his balls ached to be drained... his cock dripping streams of precum into his pumping fist.
"Don't you cum without permission..."
"UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!! !UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!!" Baker could smell the funk of the cop's massive, erect cock inches from his face as he desperately edged and fucked himself. "PLEASE! PLEASE! (UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!)"
Muffled, crazed grunts escaped Baker's throat as his eyes rolled to the back of his sweaty head, finally feeling the turgid thickness of the cop's veiny organ, feeling it thrust past his lips and tongue and mouth, feeling the cop's hands wrap around the back of his head, feeling that monster cock ram down his open, hungry throat... repeatedly... deeper and deeper.
"(OH GOD! UGHN! OH GOD! OH GOD!!! UGHNN! UGHNNNN! UGHNNNNNN!!!!)" Oh no... oh fuck... oh fuck... Baker lost all control as the cop skull-fucked him mercilessly. Thick ropes of jock cum began spurting uncontrollably from his cock despite his best efforts to hold it in, squeezing his red, turgid cock and balls so hard it hurt as he gagged on the cop's cock. "(OH GOD! UGHN! OH GOD! OH GOD!!! UGHNN! UGHNNNN! UGHNNNNNN!!!!)"
"Dirty little slut... Did I say you could cum?" The sweaty mess of a quarterback before him was quite a sight. Baker was writhing on the baton buried deep inside his jock hole, struggling to accommodate the cop pummeling his mouth and throat... his entire body was covered with fresh sweat, with a huge splatter of thick cum on his chest and belly... his big watery eyes burning with lust and horror as he accommodated the big cock in his mouth and throat.
The cop pulled Baker's mouth and throat off his cock by the jock's sweaty hair, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out of his belt loops and watched the quaking and trembling quarterback's eyes widen with terror. A pathetic sigh of submission, acceptance and depravity escaped Baker's throat when he felt the cop wrap his leather belt around his neck. A degenerate grunt of excitement and eagerness again escaped Baker's throat when he felt the cop tighten that leather belt. "You nasty little piece... get on all fours slut..."
Baker felt the cop tug on his belt-leash and obediently fell on his elbows, grunting and gasping for air, suddenly crying out as he felt the cop rip the baton out of his wet, stretched hole from behind. The pressure on his throat pulled the quarterback up on his hands, forcing the beefy jock to arch his back as deeply as he possibly could. Baker could smell his own ass on the baton as the cop demeaningly rubbed the hard, thick stick all over his nose and face and lips, feeling both numbness and overwhelming hysteria, before he bit down on that baton horizontally like a gag.
Even with his hole s baton-stretched, wet and opened, Baker screamed with sheer blood-curdling abandon through his baton-gag with whatever air the cop availed to him via his leash, as he felt the cop ruthlessly force that massive cock deep inside him. Baker's wet, thirsty eyes bulged and widen with surprise and panic as he gasped and cried out, feeling the incredible girth and length suddenly slam and bottom out at his deepest point. A gush of fresh, thick jock cum immediately squirted from Baker's still rock-hard, beer-can of a cock again, splattering underneath him, coating his already cummy belly and chest, hitting his chin and arms and fertilizing the grass along with his dripping sweat... The quarterback didn't think it was possible for him to cum so soon after cumming... a sudden and unexpected cum explosion so endless and forceful Baker could no longer discern whether he was pissing cum or pissing piss, whether he was experiencing blissful pain or agonizing pleasure.
All Baker could do was bite down on that baton and scream bloody murder, desperately catching his breath at the mercy of the cop's belt as the relentless and savage pounding commenced. The quarterback didn't have a second to get used to the pain of the cop's large cock before he felt the cop's entire body slam into his, over and over, like a machine. He thought he was going to black out from the pain and lack of air but hysterically clung onto his consciousness... Baker felt his entire body throb and tremble and quiver and shake uncontrollably with every forcible penetration. He felt he was on the verge of the most painful and unthinkably-gratifying orgasms and furiously fought to ensure he felt every second of it.
The more the cop hurt him - denying him oxygen, spanking his muscular, fat glutes, calling him FAGGOT, SLUT, WHORE, slamming into his worn, wet hole, bottoming out over and over only to manage to probe deeper inside, fucking him harder, making him scream louder and cry and sob - the more out of control Baker felt, the more pain, the humiliation, the degradation... the more high the quarterback felt. His body tingled and buzzed. Burned hot. Wet hot. It was no longer about cumming and draining his ever-replenishing supply of creamy jock cum brewing in his balls. Baker knew the second he bit down on that baton, the moment the cop started fucking him, that he wasn't going to black out like all the times before, when he'd cum and cum and black the fuck out. He was going to feel that cum-less orgasm swell from deep inside him. He was desperate to feel what he knew he'd experienced before but couldn't remember. He wanted to feel his beefy body convulse and quake and shake and buckle uncontrollably. He wanted to feel the pain. He wanted to remember how it must've felt in the back of that SUV. How many men. How many cocks. How many cum eruptions. How many anal orgasms...
"UGHNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGHNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGHNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGHNNNNN! UGHNNNNN! UGHNNNNN! UGHNN!!! UGHN! UGHN! Ughn!!!! Ughn! Ughn! Ughn... ughn... ughn... (ughn... ughn... ughn..." There it was. There it was. There it was. Baker's repeated screams into that baton-gag became more and more hoarse, dryer and dryer, until barely a sound escaped the quarterback's throat as his head threw back, his sweaty back deeply arched... his throat collared. The jock felt suspended in air, barely conscious but managing to hold on, as he felt the cop's once unrelentingly rhythmic and driving fucking turned absolutely wild and savage. The instant the cop bottomed out for the last time inside him, Baker felt it. The hot surge of heat, the uncontrollable and unexpected swell of hotness emanating from his hole overtook all sensation. He couldn't move as he gripped the grass and dirt in his fingers, his back arched, his muscular ass impaled on a giant cock. Baker couldn't move. He wasn't even sure he was breathing, but his entire body was vibrating, quaking, quivering. He knew this was the feeling he wanted to remember, from all the times he blacked out getting fucked. Absolute abandon, the split moment when pain and torture turned into absolute pleasure.
Baker could feel the cop's cum overflowing his hole, leaking out of the abused and stretched and worn ass lips. He could feel the cop eventually pull out, feeling the abhorrent sensation of emptiness despite being filled to the brim with cum. Baker felt the belt-collar around his neck loosen, the saliva-covered baton ripped from his teeth, as he collapsed face first and gasping for air onto the grass, his cum-filled ass writhing frenziedly in the air, his entire beefy, sweaty body still in the throes of the best orgasm of his life, that he could remember, at least.
He couldn't tell how long his orgasm had lasted. He remembered hearing the cop's zipper, the footsteps on the gravel, the opening of door, the turning on of engine, and the SUV driving away, leaving him there, near naked... bred... convulsing, wishing there would be more.
...
Two months of this. Nearly every day. The agonizing silence from the cop on certain days infuriated the hungry, horny quarterback, whereas the days he'd receive a text with a new address, Baker would flee in a panic, desperate, craving... dropping everything he was doing. Late night in a parking lot. Early morning in a basement of some drug dealer's house. Lunch time in the back of the SUV behind the precinct. Baker always shot his load within minutes of being penetrated, of getting pounded, though the cop never wasted any more time on him than necessary.
That day at the barn was extraordinary. Addictive. Debilitating. Baker had found that high... Baker was awarded that high, that anal orgasm, that he knew he craved and could achieve. But since that day, the cop never used him long enough... long enough for the quarterback to cum and cum and to orgasm and orgasm the way he wanted... like that day... and like that first day getting gangbanged... Baker went back and back to the cop over and over... anywhere and everywhere, any time... wishing... just wishing... that thes next time would be when the cop would not just use his hole as cum dump but to fuck him so deep and long and hard that he'd achieve that perfect, unmatched orgasm again, or the cop would have a line of other men, just like that first time, where they all took turns breeding him like they did before... only Baker swore to himself he'd stay conscious the next time...
...
Now, on his knees in the darkness of his own driveway, his fiancée asleep inside their home, hungrily sucking the cop's cock dry, tasting his own acrid ass on the large member and nursing on the sweet, salty cum still oozing out of the fat, mushroom head, Baker bitterly recounted how he got there... how stupid he was... how completely out of control... how careless... how horny he still was... how ashamed he was... how he couldn't stop sucking that cock.... how he hoped he'd managed to muffle his own cries enough not to wake up his fiancée and the entire neighborhood... how he really wished the cop would just throw him in the SUV, to take him somewhere so he could get fucked all night by strangers and scream his face off with abandon...
How he heard his own pathetic voice beg... how degraded and turned on he felt when the cop slapped him condescendingly and repeatedly across his boyish face... how he cried bitter tears of shame as he complied with the cop's every demand, how he began stripping naked in the middle of his driveway, sneakers, socks, shorts, boxers... long-sleeved henley shirt...
Baker was completely naked from head to toe, his beefy, meaty jock body glistened with sweat and god-knows-what in the dimly-lit driveway. The quarterback felt his drained cock bounce when he felt the copy's hand wrap around his neck, hearing the back of the SUV door beep open, feeling his abuser dragging him to the boot of the car... climbing in obediently... face down... ass up... gaping... wet... dripping... hard... quivering... naked. Willing. Craving. Addicted. Broken.
To be continued...
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