The following is purely a work of fiction. All characters depicted are 18 years of age and above, and any resemblance to a real person is purely a coincidence. If you are offended by sexually explicit material or situations, or if you live in a place where reading such material is illegal, discontinue reading immediately, and think about moving to a place that values personal freedom. Please do not reprint without my approval.
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Horniest Catch -- Part 4
How can something that feels so good turn into something that makes me feel so bad? Just like with my first sexual encounter with Luke, that session out in the woods sent me into a state of both euphoria and confusion. The feeling of his hard body pressing urgently onto mine as he entered me was electric. Even when he beat my ass with his belt when he had me tied over the gate of his truck, further emphasizing his superior place in the world over me, it was exhilarating. His dismissive attitude toward me after using me sexually to get off has led to my confusion.
I'm embarrassed as I walk over to the lingerie aisle at the Wal Mart. There's a middle aged woman and her old mother browsing there too, but besides that, it's pretty quiet. I purposely went there right before closing. They probably think I'm buying a present for a girlfriend, and not preparing myself for two weeks of feminization on a boat full of horny straight men, mostly strangers. After looking around the area for a while, I think "Fuck it. If this is what Luke wants, and it will get me the chance to again experience the way he makes me feel when his cock is inside me, why should I be embarrassed?" I checked out a bunch of the panties, but after hearing the announcement that the store would be closing in five minutes, I picked four different colors and styles, placed them into my carriage, and headed over to the registers. I threw my items onto the counter, kind of in a daze.
"I always had you pegged for a sissy faggot." The cashier's pointed words woke me out of my stupor. It was Brad Lincoln, a guy from my school, a star on the wrestling team. I stammered and turned red. Luckily there weren't any other customers or workers around. Among the toiletries and clothes I was buying for the boat trip was two big tubes of KY, a big box of condoms, and the panties. Brad just snickered at me. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he said as he shook his head and laughed. "63.18, faggot," he snarled as he finished scanning my items. I quickly handed him a hundred dollar bill and put my head down. Brad thrust the receipt and the coins at me with his left hand, and with his right hand put the bills under his smock and into his pocket. I looked up at him quizzically. "Faggot, get out of my face right now, unless you want the whole town to know you're a sissy boy." I put my head down, grabbed my bag, and hurried out of the store.
About a minute into my long walk home, I thought about turning around and confronting Brad in front of the store manager about him taking my money, but thought better of it. I'm sure the manager would want to review my purchases, and after seeing the items I was purchasing, would side with Brad. Plus, Brad could annihilate me, even though he's only about 140 pounds. One day a few years ago in gym class I was paired with him in wrestling, and he had my face pressed into the mat in about two seconds. Besides his wrestling prowess (he placed third in states), he's legendary in school for his temper and street fighting ability. One night he got jumped by three guys in a neighboring town while walking home from a girlfriend's house. Two of them ended up in the hospital, and all three were afraid to tell the cops what happened to them.
A car pulled aside me and stopped, and the driver yelled, "Panty boy, you need a ride?" It was Brad, who must have just gotten out of work when the store closed. "No thank you Brad, I'm all right walking," I said to him politely. "I'm not asking, faggot. Get in my car," he said to me demandingly. I walked around the front of the car and got into the passenger seat, with my bags on the floor between my legs. Brad peeled out and headed to our town.
"You better not say a fucking work to my manager about the money I ganked from you, bitch" Brad snarled at me. "No Brad, it's ok," I replied meekly. "Thanks for the ride home." Brad laughed and said "What kind of faggot lets himself get ripped off, buys panties and gets fucked in the ass, anyways?" I sat there silently. "I'm asking you a question, bitch? What kind of faggot wears panties and gets fucked in the ass? Answer me."
"The pathetic kind, I guess," I said softly. Brad pulled into a driveway. "Well, panty boy, tonight's your lucky night. My dad's at work, and I've got the place all to myself." He pulled up to a ramshackle house and shut off the car's ignition. "Grab your panties and lube and get in the motherfucking house," he ordered as he got out of his car and headed inside. I complied, and Brad led me into his room, which, unlike the rest of the house, was perfectly clean and in order. On one wall were all his wrestling trophies and medals, along with his plaques, awards, nightstick, badge and cuffs from the Youth Cadets, a police youth group that he said he was involved with. I just stood there uncomfortably as Brad pulled off his store polo shirt. "I hate that stupid fucking thing" he snarled as he threw the shirt into a clothes hamper in the corner. I couldn't help but stare at his body. He was broad shouldered, and his body tapered down to an impossibly small waist. His chest was compact but incredibly muscular, and his stomach looked like eight bands of steel twisted tightly around his body.
He kicked off his shoes, and unzipped and stepped out of his khakis, throwing them onto the bed "I hate working at that fucking store. That's more of a job for a fag like you, right?" I just stood there and nodded. "You don't talk much, do you? So what's your mouth good for anyways," Brad said as he laughed. He sat down at his swivel desk chair, spun and faced me. Brad had his Cadet's nightstick in his hands, and he pounded it into his palm. He said "Well stupid, get your fucking clothes off. You're going to model those panties for me right now." I took off my shirt and shoes, and unzipped my jeans and wiggled out of them, standing there nervously in just my boxer briefs. Brad wheeled toward me in his chair, and poked at me with the nightstick, making a downward motion. I dropped my drawers. "You excited to be here, fag?" he asked as he playfully whacked my half hard cock with the stick. I just stood there naked, for about a minute. Brad looked up at me and said "I'm going to turn around for ten seconds. If I don't see panties on you sissy when I turn back around, I'm going to shove this nightstick up your ass."
I grabbed a pair quickly and slipped them on, barely packing my junk into the front of them. "Little sissy in some pink panties." Well turn around, bitch. Let's see what we have to work with. I turned, and felt the nightstick probing between my buns. "Looks like your fag ass caught a beating recently," Brad said as he pawed at my ass cheeks with one hand while probing me with the stick. Brad grabbed my arm and pulled it behind me. I felt something cold against my wrist, and Brad then stood up and reached over me and pushed me onto the bed face first, his body weight on top of me. He reached for my other arm, and wrenched it behind my back too, cuffing me. Brad pressed all his body weight into me, his hard cock rubbing menacingly against my panty clad ass.
"You fucking faggot. I'm stuck working as a cashier at fucking Wal Mart for minimum wage, while you get my spot on the Gloria Dei because Luke and the rest of the crew needed a sissy to fuck with at night. That's motherfucking bullshit. Mr. Matthews said it was because I'm not eighteen yet, but I know the real reason." Brad reached up and began pulling my head back painfully as he ground into my ass with his midsection. "You're going to have to pay for fucking me over, bitch," he said as he twisted me cruelly, before letting me fall back down to the bed. He leaned over me and drew his leather belt out of his khakis. Brad wrapped it around my neck tightly and pulled up, again bending me backward, with his rock hard dick pressing against my ass crack. "I should just bust your pussy ass open right now, so you can't make the boat tomorrow, fag."
Brad finally let up the pressure on the belt, allowing my head to fall back onto the bed, but kept up the pressure on my backside. "So give me a good reason why I shouldn't put you in the hospital with a broken asshole, faggot?" he snarled into my ear. "I'm sorry Brad." I whimpered fearfully. "I didn't know I was taking anyone's job. I'll do anything, just don't fuck me up please." Brad put the handle end of the nightstick against my lips, and yelled "Open your fag mouth." I complied, and he thrust the wooden handle roughly into my mouth. "Suck on that, fag, and if it comes out of your mouth before I'm ready to take it out of your mouth, It's going up your ass longways. I want to hear slurping, bitch."
Brad upwrapped the belt from my sore neck and got off me as I slurped like crazy on the thick handle. He reared back high with the belt and placed a hard one right across the middle of my panty clad buttocks, forcing my face into the stick and the handle almost out of my mouth as I groaned in pain. Brad laid four more full bore belts to my ass before stopping, as I flopped around the bed in anguish, the hard wooden stick handle still between my lips. My body throbbed in pain as Brad jumped onto the bed in front of me on his knees and slapped my face with his big, rock hard cock. Brad pulled the nightstick handle out of my mouth and grabbed my hair, pulling my head up so I could look at him. "If I feel any teeth, I'm going to shove this up your ass" he said as he tapped the baton on my backside while leaning over me.
Bad put about half his cock into my mouth and ordered me to suck. Tears streaming down my face from the hard whipping, I complied. He used the nightstick to push my panties down under my ass cheeks, and rubbed the stick roughly into my crack, whacking me with the stick lightly on my sore ass every thirty seconds or so as I slurped away at his cock. Brad suddenly pulled his throbbing cock out of my mouth and roughly threw my head into the mattress right in front of his knees. He lubed up his cock with the KY slavishly, all the while badmouthing me. "You fucking little pussy cocksucking bitch, shaking your girly ass trying to get real men to fuck with you. Well you got it bitch. You're not going to forget this fuck, fag boy."
Brad got behind me and ripped my panties all the way down and off. He propped my ass up over two pillows, and placed his knees inside of mine and pressed out to spread me out further. He rammed his hard cock into me without hesitation, eliciting a loud groan from me, somewhat muffled from my face being pushed into the mattress. Brad fucked me like an animal, without remorse or the slightest concern for my feelings, as I moaned and groaned from his vicious slams. Finally, after about ten minutes of thrusting, he reached up with both his arms under my upper body and hands clasped behind my neck, placing me in a full nelson. He pressed down onto me so hard that I thought I was going to die from lack of oxygen. Brad rode my ass to a spectacular climax, with him shooting over and over into my abused hole, yelling "I own you bitch" as he unloaded. Despite my abject fear of him and what he was doing to me, I came too, to my embarrassment and chagrin.
"You fucking faggot, you got off from me RAPING you?" Brad snarled into my ear as he continued to lie on top of me. "Yes, Sir," I responded softly. Brad rolled off me and moved to the front of the bed, his softening cock in my face as he wiped it with a towel. "You faggots are really something. The harder you get used and abused, the more you love it." He reached over me and laid a couple of hard slaps on my sore ass cheek with his strong right hand as he thrust his cock back into my face. I nursed on the head of his cock as he explained to me what he wanted me to do.
"Listen, bitch, I need to get on that boat this summer. I turn eighteen in two weeks, so Mr. Matthews can't use that excuse to hold me back. Luke and me have been buddies since we were little, and he wants me on there too. Those horn dogs are gonna love that hot little ass of yours, so there's no way Mr. Matthews is gonna give me your spot, so you better get someone else fired or something," he said as he slammed his hardened cock deeper into my mouth. "Mr. Matthews?" I said stupidly, as I pulled my mouth off his thrusting cock. "Mr. Matthews is going to know that I'm bitching out for some of the guys on the boat?"
"You stupid sissy, why do you think he hired your fag ass in the first place? Mr. Matthews is going to use your bitch ass the hardest," Brad said as he chuckled and stuffed his cock back down my throat.