Disclaimer: I own all the rights to this original work and give license to the Nifty archive. Copyright 2012. All characters are fictional, any coincidences to living people are entirely coincidental.
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The man rose up from the bed and stood beside me.
"Lift your pussy up," he said in a stern voice.
I stopped fingering my hole and complied.
"Higher. Stick your pussy hole as high into the air as you can."
I arched my lower back as deep as I could. My butt cheeks spread, pulled apart by my tight skin.
"That's it," he said. "Spread it open for me."
He rubbed his fingers through the length of my ass crack. I gave in to the energy building in my body and released a small moan as he brushed against my aching asshole.
"I didn't tell you to stop sucking that dick."
I immediately tilted my body and went back to work on his monster cock, pushing my face deep into his round body. He traced his finger around my hole and I let out another moan through the mouthful of cock. He pushed a finger inside of me and as a reflex, my hips bucked up. I moaned again, this time sounding more like a whimper.
"That's a nice pussy," he said. "Tight. Hungry pussy."
He shoved his finger deep inside. Even with his cock pushing against my throat, I whimpered loud enough to make me feel shame for emitting such a feminine sound.
"Is this a real virgin pussy," he asked. "Don't you lie to me."
I take my mouth off his dick and look up to his face.
"Yes, sir." I pause, almost relishing this moment in which I have surrendered all free will to the point where I have to beg this fat man. "Please sir, be gentle."
He smiled another snarl and pushed my head back on his dick.
"Of course I'll be gentle." He pushed his finger inside again, making me whimper. "It's my hole, isn't it?"
He didn't pull his finger out. It was buried completely inside my asshole and made no movement. He was waiting for a response.
Reflexively, I arch my back deeper, as if I were trying to swallow more of his finger, which was impossible. "Yes, sir. It's your hole. Please," I feel shudders in my body again, "take care of it, sir. Please take care of your hole."
As if that was his cue, the man waved my face from his cock. He walked to the end of the bed. He was behind me. I hadn't touched it for over half an hour, but my own cock had sprung to full erection. My ass cheeks are spread wide and a naked man with a monster 12-inch cock was standing behind me. I was so excited, I could feel pre-cum oozing out of my dickhead like a fountain. This is finally going to happen. I'm going to get fucked.
My heart is a sledgehammer in my chest. I can't catch my breath. He wraps his hand around the inside of my thigh and pulls it so my knees spread, lowering my ass. The tension in my muscles strain, but I forget the pain as soon as I feel a warm, ridged rod dig into my ass crack. He was rubbing his cock between my buttcheeks as if he were fitting a sausage into a bun. I didn't think it possible, but it feels even harder, more concrete, now than when it was in my mouth. I moan lightly and rest my weight on my elbows, exposing even more of my desperate hole.
I feel all the pressure concentrate into one sensitive spot. His dickhead was pressed against my hole, fighting its way inside.
Almost instantly, I can feel it's impossible. The pressure against me is enormous. His finger hurt enough, this was easily four times thicker and more than three times as long. He grabs my hips and starts to pull me back against him. Tense with fear, I push out as if I were taking a shit, hoping it will ease his entry. His dick breaks the surface of my asshole and I am flashed with one strobe of pain that stabs my entire body. The pain is thick, monstrous. My body surges and throws itself forward. My arms collapse and my face hits the mattress.
"FUCK! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!" I'm acting purely on reflex. This is the only word I can form, a primal reaction to this intense pain. "FUCK!" A few eternal seconds pass and I realize that I just failed. I failed at being a faggot. I failed at getting fucked. I push my face into the mattress, as if I could bury it both to escape the pain and hide my shame. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry. It hurts. It hurts." I try not to picture the man standing behind me, assuredly frustrated and annoyed at the failed faggot writhing in pain before him. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think it would hurt like this."
The man lays next to me on the bed. My face is still buried in the mattress.
"That's okay." For the first time, his voice sounds natural, if not reassuring. "Most girls can't take my dick the first time."
He was obviously pleased with himself. I should have been annoyed at his hubris. But the pain, which was just now fading, convinced me that he spoke the truth. I feel his hand lie against the side of my stomach. His thick fingers dig into my side. I can feel his damp body hair from his firm, fat stomach on my smooth lean back. "My wife can't take it in her ass either," he says, running his hand up to my ribs.
I am finally catching my breath. My body, which was tense like a solid block, is now easing.
Now, I notice my ass is still in pain. Unlike the rest of my body, the muscles surrounding my asshole never stopped burning. It's because he was pushing inside me. The thick monster cockhead is penetrating my puckered hole.
"Wait, wait," I protest.
The man makes no pretense to stop. I feel his mustache on my ear. He shushes me with a harsh breath. "Shut up," he whispers hard, spitting on my ear. "This is how I get into my wife."
I have no course of protest. There is nothing I can say to make him stop. And the truth is, I don't want him to. My ass continues to strain and burn. I can feel the ring of my hole stretch. I stifle a whimper and writhe on the bed. My back folds back and forth. The man senses that I'm trying to squirm away from his dick so his grip on my stomach tightens, holding my hips in place. I am helpless. My movements are restricted. All I can do is push my face into the mattress. I stop fighting it and moan, whimper, cry.
"It hurts, sir." My voice is desperate, helpless and loud. I can't help it. I know it doesn't matter what I say. "It hurts, sir. It hurts so much." If anything, I am feeding his ego.
"I know it does," he says, not bothering to comfort me.
I am passed the point of pretense. I start whimpering and moaning like a faggot. A woman.
Then I feel something new, coarse bristles against my smooth ass cheeks. It's his pubic hair. He is inside me entirely. The thought makes me horny all over again, but the feeling is eclipsed by the pain that starts at my asshole and radiates to the front of my stomach.
"Holy shit," I say. I reach between my legs. His balls, sweaty and hairy, are pressed directly against my ass. "I can't believe you are inside me."
He starts to pull out. For a moment, I worry that I am releasing a massive shit. But I know this feeling. He pushes it back inside. I squeeze shut my eyes and squeal. He does this again. Then again. His speed picks up. Behind me, I hear his breathing become more rapid. Each thrust makes me squeal.
"I knew you could take it," he says through his ragged breathing. "You have a nice hungry pussy. It doesn't want to let go of my cock."
He is right. The pain is almost unbearable. But now that he is inside me, I can't picture life not stretched to my limit like this. The pleasure is so intertwined with the pain, I can't figure if there is even a difference between the two.
When he is satisfied that my ass is loose enough, the man pulls out, causing a massive surge of burning energy throughout my body. He lays on his back. "Get on," he says. I jump at his command. "Ride me, little pussy."
Lying on his back, his belly rises up like a perfect, hairy bulb. Still, his massive cock stands higher than the mountain of flesh just above it. "Yes sir," I say as I squat over him. I sit on the master dick and ignore the pain as best I can as my pussy envelopes the appendage entirely. I ride this fat man as hard as I can. My ass cheeks claps against his thighs, the headboard lightly bangs against the wall and the bed springs squeak. Combined, it all creates a pornographic rhythm that solidifies my cock.
Having regained some form of composure, I try to stifle my moans, which are driven purely by pain. Even here, as I enact my deepest dream come true, I remember in the next room, just passed this wall that the bedpost is lightly banging against, the children watching television, with plastic toys lying on the floor. My lungs want to release loud moans. I want to sound like a man mired in this web of pain and sexual arousal. As I stifle the moans, they come out as strained, high-pitched squeals. I sound like a porn actress in one of those virgin scenes. This visibly pleases the man.
"Ride it with your sweet pussy. Ride it hard."
I slam down on his God-like penis with the full force of my 150 pounds. My only regret, even as my ass aches, is that I can't fit more of him inside of me. My life has disappeared; school, the team, my parents, nothing matters but my asshole and his dick. I didn't care about anything but feeling his massive cockhead punch the inside of my stomach. My own cock is only semi-hard and flopped about with several silver threads of pre-cum trailing the puckered lips of my foreskin. The only indication of time passing is in my knees, which aches from the constant squatting and grinding. My thigh muscles start to cramp, but even that pain can't distract me from this sacred totem. I continue to work my ass on his dick.
I don't realize that the longer I am riding the man, the louder I get. My moans are now less strained, deeper and louder. The man suddenly shoots up, as best as he can with that huge belly constricting his movements. He pushes against my chest, obviously trying to get me on my back. Taking my silent command, I lean back and wrap my legs around his wide torso. He has a little trouble finding his position, but I squeeze my asshole muscles as tight as I can, refusing to let go of this massive probe.
My legs are stretched wide around his massive torso and the man is firmly in place. He wastes no time and starts fucking me in perfect rhythm. With my legs up, it feels like his cock was reaching a deeper level inside me. The pain is new again. I start to moan with a full voice, unable to stifle any part of it. Unable to care. His face betrays a sign of worry about the noise I am making. Simultaneously, he is obviously pleased with the damage he is causing inside me. He pumps his cock even harder, causing me to release a full-blown yell.
"FUCK ... me!" I say, dragging the final vowel for several strained seconds.
The pain is growing with such magnitude in this position. His weight, which I'm guessing tops nearly 300 pounds, intensifies each fuckpump he drives into me. As if every single pound of this fat bastard is concentrated on his humongous dick that is repeatedly punching into me.
"Please, sir," I am completely out of breath, as if I had been playing ball for the entire evening. "Please, wait. Stop. I need a minute. Please, sir."
Once again, I realize I am helpless. Entirely at the will of this man and his cock. I push my hands out in an effort to stop him from pumping into me. It does nothing. He keeps fucking me uninterrupted. If anything, he is pushing harder now.
"You don't want me to stop," he saysin a condescending voice. "This is what you came here for, isn't it?"
It was true. I wanted this. I still do, despite the agony that increases each time his heavy, sweaty body slams into my butt.
He wraps each arm under my shoulders and pulls my body toward him as he simultaneously thrusts into my hole with a sledgehammer force. My face tightens like a fist, tears flood my eyes and a yell escaped my lungs.
"Isn't it?" He yells directly into my flinching face.
My eyes are sealed shut as my body tries to resolve the jolt of pain. "Yes, sir," I say in a strained whisper.
He shoots two more concrete thrusts into me, like a punishment. Each thrust is timed so they stress the verbs when he says: "Look at me, when you talk to me."
I press my hands into my face as hard as I can, then ball them into fists on my forehead. I force my eyes open to look directly into his ugly face, tears are streaming down to my ears.
"I'm sorry, sir." My voice is shaking from the pain and anger. "Yes, sir. You're right, sir. This is what I came here for, sir. This is all I want, sir."
He stops his fuck rhythm. "Good, pussy," he says. He pulls out of me and for a second, I am relieved to be free of the pain. Then I realize that I'm empty. I'm only a gaping, sloppy hole.
The man slides the mirrored closet door open and picks up a t-shirt from the floor. He throws it on the bed and, with one hand, lifts my legs by the ankles and positions them on his shoulders. I am completely doubled over, my knees digging into my chest and my hairy calves run up, framing his disgustingly lascivious face. Immediately, I feel my asshole shift as if it were allowing his monster dick even further inside of me. I let my head fall back, with my mouth wide open as I contemplate my ability to withstand what is coming next. My chest is thudding like a machine.
"Sir, I don't think I ..." I try to talk in smooth, even words, but my adrenaline is boiling.
"Yes you can," he said, like it was a command. "It's my hole. I say what it can and can't do. This pussy is ready for a real pounding."
His smile is now a full snarl. I have nothing, except what he wants to give me. I spread both hands out to my sides, as if I were blindly feeling for salvation. I get nothing but the blanket over the bed, which I ball into my fists. It's the only power I have, grabbing the sweat-soaked blanket.
The man starts to fuck me. He fucks me hard. By the third thrust, he is in a full push-up position, balancing his weight with his hands, his toes and his dick, which is pounding into me with a force that feels like it splits me in half. I have lost all control. I can't let go of the blanket. I can't open my eyes. I can't stifle my screams. Each thrust pulls out of me a deep throated moan.
The man grabs the shirt he pulled from the closet and stuffs it into my mouth. It's not clean, it has a strong scent. It smells like sweat and rancid sugar. It's a grey t-shirt and I can see browned splotches. Against my cheek, I feel jagged crust scratching from the shirt. I know this feeling, this scent. I have this exact same shirt at home, in my room, under my bed. It's my cum rag. The shirt I use to wipe off the loads of semen that I spill on my stomach, my bed, my desk. It's the shirt I have to hide from my mom, so it hasn't been washed for weeks, if not months.
I don't know his excuse, but this heavy cum rag also hasn't been washed for a while. The scent wafts heavily from the crusty fabric. It's simultaneously grotesque and exciting. I inhale deep and quick in between moans, as if I were huffing his dead, dried semen. I am screaming into the shirt. Even if he weren't penetrating me with 12 inches of thick cock, his weight crushes me. I can't tell if I still feel pleasure, or if my fear and pain has become unbearable. Not that it matters. I am at the will of this fat man who has not slipped his fuck rhythm for 15 minutes. The sweat is beading all over his face. He cranks his neck and wipes the sweat from his fat face onto my bare chest.
My saliva continues to collect in my gagged mouth. It creates an acrid taste as it saturates his cum encrusted shirt. I have to concentrate on my breathing, which is limited to my nose. Each exaggerated breath I suck in is dull and stale from the scent of his cum rag.
Finally, probably 10 minutes after I'd had too much, the man pulls the shirt out of my mouth and his cock from my asshole. Once again, I feel shame from my exposed hole, stretched and slathered in lube. In my mind, I picture a gaping void in between my butt cheeks, glowing red to the world. He leaves me contorted with my ass in the air and lays back.
"Suck me off," he says.
I get into position but hesitate when my face gets close enough to his cock that I can see the dirty lube in smeared splotches across his shaft. It smells like moist plastic and shit. My shit. I hesitate at the thought of sucking the discharge from my own asshole.
The man pulls my hair and tries to shove my face down on his dick. "Suck it." He is making a clear order.
For the first time in what I guess is two hours, his cock is not inside me and it's cold agony. Realizing this, I swallow his cock and suck. The sour taste makes me retch, but I ignore the reflex and keep sucking. I concentrate on his massive flesh rod and bob my head as fast as I can.
"I want you to swallow my load," he says, grabbing the sides of my head. "Swallow every drop that I give you. It's a gift."
His arms stiffen and he takes control of my head, guiding it in a fuck rhythm. I just focus on keeping my mouth wet and my suction steady.
"You know, sperm is a protein," he says. "You swallow my load and digest it, it will help make you strong. My gift to you will help you build these smooth muscles you've got. My cum will feed you and become a part of you. When that happens, you won't need another man's seed inside you. Do you understand?"
He pulls my head back. I try to fight his grip and wrap my lips around his dick, but he doesn't relent.
"Yes, sir," I say, hoping he'll let me go.
Instead, he pulls my hair harder. "I own your pussy. That means I also own your mouth-pussy." He pulls my hair again.
"Yes, sir."
"Say it." He pulls harder.
"My mouth-pussy is yours, sir. My pussy is yours, sir."
"Once you swallow my gift, I don't want you to swallow another man's seed." He yanks again.
"I will not swallow another man's seed, sir."
"I don't care if another guy shoots a load in your pussy. It's a worthless hole, a garbage can for dead sperm. But, it's my hole. Only I can say who comes in your pussy."
"It's your hole, sir. Only you can say who fucks me, sir."
He continues to hold my hair with one hand. With his other, he grabbs the base of his cock and swings it against my face. It's a heavy, fleshy baton that feels like light punches. I keep my mouth gaping open, hoping he would let me go so I can continue sucking. I think he finally notices exactly how enthralled I am by his cock. He brushes it against my lips and I follow suit with my tongue, trying to taste any cock residue.
"From now on, my dick belongs inside you." His voice is still friendly, almost pausing between each syllable, as if he were talking to a child. "When I say it, you get on your knees and suck."
"Yes, sir. I will suck your dick at your command, sir."
He traces his dick head around my lips again. I fight the urge to extend my tongue just to get a taste.
"In fact, that is your home, now."
Both of my holes are aching and sore, but hurt even more that they are empty. I want nothing more than his cock inside me somehow.
"My home is in your crotch, sir."
"In fact, that is your first lesson, hole. I will say `Home,' and that is your command to come home."
"Home, sir. In your crotch, sir."
"Do we understand each other?"
"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."
He doesn't let go. He continues to hold me by my hair and stairs into my eyes, as if he were trying to re-write the programming in my head with his stare. He rests his dick against my bottom lip, but holds firm to the back of my hair.
"Please, sir," my voice sounds like I'm sobbing, which isn't far from the truth.
"Please what?"
"Please, sir. Please, sir." His grip tightens.
"Please what?"
"Please sir, let me su..." He pulls my hair with a new force and slaps my face with his cock three times, in perfect beat with his words when he says: "Please what, Hole?"
"Please sir ... Let me go home."
He finally releases my hair. I eagerly start to swallow his cock. He grabs my head with both hands and guides it up and down his cock. I focus on my lips and tongue, ensuring I suck as hard as I can.
He mutters sporadically as I work over his dick. "Make me cum, hole. Swallow my load. Accept my gift."
His thighs start to tighten around my thin frame. His pelvis starts to thrust up. I suck harder and bob faster, then faster. I get ready. His breath becomes strong and ragged. With his cockhead at the back of my throat, I feel the entire probe convulse. Then I feel a hot squirt, a strong stream that makes me gag. I ignore it and keep sucking. Another squirt. Then another. The man is releasing a heavy, strained sigh.
"Don't waste a drop," he says, still holding my head.
I stop bobbing my head, but suck from as close to his base as I can reach and slowly work my way to the tip. I try to milk every drop of cum from his dick. His pelvis surges lightly and I keep sucking. He finally lets go of my head and I keep sucking. I want everything he can possibly give.
When I'm sure I've sucked out all the cum he can offer, I gently kiss the head of his dick.
"Thank you, sir." I'm talking to the dick. I want to thank it for the two and a half hours of agonizing ecstasy.
I look at the naked man with the massive, round, hairy belly lie in front of me. This monstrous cock is now limp, lost in his bulbous, hairy thighs. For a second, I have no idea what to do. I'm on my knees on the bed. He shows absolutely no interest in further acknowledging me. I am not needed here. I am not wanted here.
I slip on my running shorts and shirt. I sit on the floor to tie my shoes but the blunt floor shoots a pain into my sore asshole. Instead, I take a knee to tie my shoes. As I'm doing so, the man starts to talk, without bothering to lift his head.
"Do you work?"
"Yes," I lie.
"What time do you go in?"
"I have to be there at 8:30. I usually leave at 8."
"Keep an eye on your email account. I need you to stay prepared the next time I need your pussies."
"Yes, sir."
There is no movement. No sign that he's going to acknowledge me again. I walk out. It's dark. I start the run home. Each step, as my weight crashes down, my asshole thuds with light pain. My mouth smells like a bathroom urinal, I can still taste cum. The thought makes me hard. I run home, following my still aching hard-on.