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Warning: This erotic fiction contains sexual experiences between fictional adult males. If this is not your thing, leave now. Furthermore, any similarity to any person, place or thing living or dead is merely coincidental.
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Story codes: M, MM, bd, sm, exhib
Chapter 03 – The Downward Spiral of Jim
Normally on a Saturday David and I spend the entire day together. We go shopping. Enjoy a good workout at the gym. Take the dogs on a long hike if it is pleasant out.
We escape the city for a few hours in the BMW convertible. We sometimes will hit a museum or a theater or movie matinee. We always go out for dinner on Saturday night with friends or have people over. Our life is about as gay cliché as it gets.
Unfortunately, the events of the past two days occupied my mind to obsession. I was very sullen. Breakfast was quiet as I kept thinking about being mouth raped in the gym and ass raped in the Marriott. On the other hand, "you can't rape the willing." It was obvious that I was willing, particularly at the Marriott.
I said to David, "I'm going to spend the day by myself if you don't mind. I have some things to sort out."
David responded with concern saying, "Is it something I did? I have never seen you so upset."
"I assure you David, that you have done nothing. I just need some time alone. I promise I will talk about it soon."
With that, I left the table, put my dishes in the dishwasher and got in the car. I know I was hurting David but I just couldn't bring myself to tell him what had happened yet. I promised myself that when I returned I would tell him the truth, which I did, but by that time, I had to add to the story.
I got in the Beemer convertible, put the top down and headed out to nowhere in particular. It was good to have the wind blowing through my hair and the beautiful sky above. This was the life I had worked so hard for, having a lover, a house, two BMWs in the garage, good friends and family. Why was this happening to me? Why was I becoming obsessed with cock? Why was a putting all this in such jeopardy? I consoled myself by saying it was just two incidences. Where I was still in denial was a switch in my brain had been turned on that I didn't even know was there. I would soon discover there was no off to the switch, only on.
I drove out of the city onto an old two-lane country road. I spotted a diner and thought I would grab a sandwich. The place looked scary. I knew I should not even pull in but I was hungry. I thought, "I'll just get something to go." My naiveté was getting me into trouble.
There was a bunch of motorcycles out front. That should have been another clue not to enter the establishment. I sucked up my fear and went in anyway. Walking in, the place smelled like stale beer and piss. There were a bunch of big, beefy guys sitting around a table having a few. They were all in leathers. These men had tattoos everywhere. They were gruff looking. They were big all over; chests, legs, arms, hands, bellies. They weren't drunk, but it was obvious it was at least the third round.
If I wasn't so scared, I would have mused about how stereotypical the scene was. The other part that bothered me was that it turned me on. These guys could make me their pretty boy bitch. I felt my dick twitch from the thought. I walked up to the bar feeling very conspicuous, which I should because they all watched me. I got my sandwich and a drink and raced out of there as fast as I could.
Back in the car, I drove quickly away from the establishment. Suddenly, looking in my rearview mirror I saw the bikers coming up behind me. A couple of them passed and pulled up in front of me forcing me to slow down. I knew I was in trouble and I immediately pressed the emergency communication button to BMW. When the operator answered, I said quickly, "Don't talk to me. I'm in trouble. Send the cops." The operator said, "Ok" and no more.
I stopped the car. I was shaking so bad I thought I would pass out. The biggest guy got off his bike first. He walked up to the side of my car. "Hey queer boy, where you going so fast? We want to have some fun and you're the fun."
"Please Sir. Leave me alone."
"Please Sir. Leave me alone." The big man repeated sarcastically. In one fell swoop, he unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door and pulled me out of the car. Two other guys came up and ripped my t-shirt off me. Next, they hauled me around to the rear of the car and forced me face down on the trunk. One of them pulled my shorts down to my ankles. Another took a knife and cut them off me. Two of the guys held me down. A fourth guy unlaced my tennis shoes and took them and my socks off. He took the pile of clothes to the middle of the road and lit a match. My clothes were now gone in a little bonfire. Even if I got out of here alive with my car, I was going home naked.
The first biker unzipped his pants and took aim at my ass. I heard him spit to lube his cock before plunging it deep inside my fuck hole. I screamed at the top of my lungs. It hurt like hell my ass burning from the girth. I felt his hairy ball belly bounce against my lower back and ass. He lifted his belly so it laid on the small of my back as he pushed deeper into my cunt.
He leaned into me crushing me onto the iron of the car. I could smell the stench of nicotine coming from his pores. He obviously smoked several packs a day. "Yeah fag. We saw you walk your pretty ass into that bar. It was obvious to us that this ass needed a fill with some man cock. Fucking queers like you can't live without man cock inside them. I'm the man, asshole, and you are the fag. Oh, Bill this ass is sweet. I haven't had one like this in a while. I don't think it's gonna take long for me to cream him. You better get ready. You're next." He said to his friend.
Damn it hurt but I also noticed that my cock was as hard as a rock on the hood of the car. I started to moan with pleasure and he didn't miss my response.
"Oh the fag likes it. Hey Bill, fag boy likes my cock up there. Listen to him moan. He wants it bad, don't yeah queer boy? "
"Yes Sir."
"Oh, yes sir." The man said derisively. "Hey Bill, the fag knows his place. He's more than a pretty little cunt. He knows he's a fag."
I continued groan in ecstasy. I had to admit this was fucking hot. Suddenly I felt the big man's cock widen. He was getting ready to shoot. He was pounding my ass hard. My cock hurt rubbing against the car but I also felt that my cock was gonna explode at any moment.
"Yeah fuck boy. Here comes a man load. Here comes my baby juice. Oh fuckkkkk!"
We both shot at the same time. My cream ruining the finish on my BMW and his ruining my hole. He sweat. His body was soaked in perspiration. I reeked from his aroma and I couldn't get enough of it. From that day forward, if I smell that combination of sweat and cigarette on a man, I immediately get a boner. He pulled out of my pussy fast, slapped my ass and said, "Next." The tragedy was that the moment Mr. Biker Pig pulled out, I felt empty and alone. I was turning into one sick pup.
Bill went next, then the other two. The rest of the time wasn't fun because I had cum, but there wasn't a lot of choice on my side of this. I kept thinking, 'When is help coming?'
The last guy deposited his load in my abused hole. I thought that maybe they would just leave. I was grateful I was still alive, but more grateful for the cum in my ass, which betrayed every rational fiber of my being.
The leader said, "Hey guys. I don't know about you but I got to get rid of some of this beer." It was as if they choreographed this or, at least, done it before, because the two brutes that man handled me to the trunk of my car now grabbed my arms pushing me onto my back on the side of the road in the grass.
"Come on boys. We don't want to have to stop again to piss. Here's the urinal right here."
They gathered around my naked body. I just stared up at these real men. It was at that moment that I absolutely knew beyond any doubt that I was a faggot and that I craved dominating, nasty men to abuse me as they saw fit. I looked at their magnificent cocks. Each of those cocks deposited biker cream up my cunt. Each of those cocks stretched my hole. Each of those cocks taught me who I actually was. When I thought about that, the admittance of my deepest desire, and what was going to happened next, I did the next despicable thing, I grabbed my cock.
"Hey look guys. The faggot is playing with his cock. He wants to cum again while we piss on him. He is one sick fuck."
They all laughed and started providing me with recycled beer. They soaked my entire body particularly aiming at my head. I found myself opening my mouth to take in as much of their acrid liquid as I could. I jacked my cock furiously in front of them. At this point, I didn't give a shit any more about what was happening other than I was completely turned on by these real men and their piss.
Suddenly I heard a siren. One of them said, "Fuck, it's the cops." The main man spit in my face. "See ya fucker." They ran to their bikes and peeled out in a cloud of dust.
I had to admit I wanted to go with those sleazy bikers. I wanted to be the bitch on the back of the bike. I wanted to be their regular whore. I want them to expand my ass with their cocks and their fists. I wanted them to put me under the table in a bar and drink their piss so they didn't have to get up to use the urinal. I wanted them to collar me and be their slave. I wanted them to take me on bike runs forcing me to service all the Alpha males. I wanted to be in their basement to polish their boots and take care of the leathers. I wanted them to cage both my cock and my body because I only deserved to be let out for service. I wanted them to whip me daily. I wanted them to scar me. I wanted them to tattoo me with the word "SLAVE" across my chest. Please take me with you.
Instead, I stood up putting my hands over my crotch and said, "Oh thank God officer. You're here."
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A little naked faggot."
I knew I was in trouble still.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Please send any comments to: douglas.marx.4@gmail.com
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