Officer Sven yelped as I shoved in the bottle and started draining into his anus.
Officer Sven was getting an enema. He'd actually get up to 3 enemas probably. This wasn't the best position nor the best set up for enemas, but his resistance would make it necessary.
I could tell he was enjoying it. His dick was rock hard and whimpers and whines of ecstasy escaped his lips.
The bottle did a slow drain into his ass. I reached between his muscled thighs and started down-stroking his dick.
Foreplay is a lost art in sex.
From kissing to milking to massage to nipple play and more, most men just want to fuck. And 5 minutes later, they're done. It's a total waste of sexual desire.
Why drive across town to spend 5 minutes in bed? You spend more time behind the wheel than in the bedroom.
Don't misunderstand; I do quickies. But they're not my first choice.
Sven would be here for at least 2 hours. From his position secured to the bench, he could view the porn DVD I was playing, the St. Andrews crosses I had and the sling.
"So you enjoyed eating my dog's ass?" I asked the naked policeman. I continued down-stroking his dick as the bottle drained.
"Yes, sir," he purred.
"Liking that cop cock stroked?" I asked.
"Yes, sir!" Pleasure came with that comment.
"Like that bottle up yer shit hole?" I snarled.
"Not really, sir," was the reply.
I like honesty in a boy. Communication in these situations is imperative. Boys who lie tend to get hurt because they don't express pain and uncomfortable situations until it's too late.
The bottle finally emptied.
I shoved a cork to seal Sven's hole.
I continued stroking Sven's hard as steel 8.5 inch dick. I rubbed a hand along his side until he humped his chest up, giving me access to a nipple. I gently rubbed it, bringing it to life and starting it toward being firm. It was partially there.
"I need to shit, man," Sven said. I ignored him and keep my dual motions going.
"Sir, I need to take a crap," he pleaded.
I knew the pressure would be building, but he needed to hold it a bit more.
"Five more minutes, boy."
"What!?!? I can't take 5 more minutes of this," he bellowed.
I gripped the nipple hard enough to get a squeal, and his attention.
"Six minutes, now, boy. Or, I can pop the cork, fuck you and have you clean yer ass off my cock."
He didn't take long to respond with a "yes, sir" and be quite.
The hard nipple received a clamp, and I turned my attention to the other nipple; it was hard already, but my touch was needed before it, too, would receive a clamp.
By the time the second nipple clamp went on, Sven's cock was drooling precum and the time was ready for the cork's removal.
Unlike the bottle draining, Sven was not slow.
The bench was made for this and did its job well. I rubbed my hand under his stomach to encourage completeness.
When Sven was done, I inserted a second bottle.
I continued stroking Sven's tool. It'd been erect for at least 20 minutes now. I knew that had to be probably painful for him.
Once the bottle was empty, the cork went back.
I lightly ran one finger over Sven's skin.
From the tips of his toes, to his ears, to his buns, to his finger tips, one to ten fingers lightly petted his taught, muscled physique. I knew this sensation would be electric, straining his ability to stay still and control himself.
Most men never experience what touch can do. They think a smack on the ass during a nasty fuck, or the tweak of a nipple while tied to a St. Andrews is touch. They believe the sting of a leather cat o-nine tails, or the wood impact of a paddle is touch.
They are, but they are not the only touch.
I pushed the time limit 5 minutes passed the first enema, then allowed Sven release.
I was pleased with the results, and decided a third was not needed.
I placed a bar stool in front of Sven's face, and finally removed my trench coat, showing Sven my leather hat, torso harness, wrist guards, and jockstrap.
"What do you want, boy?" I asked.
His head hung, his eyes focusing on the wood grain of my floors.
"Look me in the eye, boy," I commanded. "What do you want?"
His eyes did lock on mine.
I saw despair and confusion, a man strapped to a bondage bench in my living room, who knew what he wanted, but was afraid to verbalize it.
"I still don't know, sir," he whispered. "I know I love sex, and I want sex, but I..."
His voice failed him. He looked into my eyes, hoping to see an answer, but my eyes don't have answers, and their darkness can chill the stoutest of men.
"I don't want to be a fag, sir," Sven finally said. "I'm not a fairy."
I smacked Sven hard across his face.
"Has anyone called you a fag'? A fairy'? You need to get over labels, boy. You're dick is going to be hard whether I call you a cocksucker, bitch or whore," I stated. I figured the last 2 terms secretly turned Sven on, since he'd associate those terms with street trash, and that was Sven's desire, to be treated like a hooker that wasn't going to get paid. But Sven had some severe hang-ups about the sex being with men.
"You enjoy eating ass, boy," I said. It was a statement, not made in anger, but as the fact that it was. I was sure Sven had written off eating ass as "straight" since he could eat a woman's ass, not realizing that he'd have no desire to eat a woman's ass.
I bent over the bar stool before his face and pulled the leather strap of my jock to one side, exposing my ass to his face.
I actually heard him slurp. I could barely contain my excitement. Having my ass eaten is one of my biggest pleasures. It's not just the extreme physical pleasure that a tongue swabbing the anal region gives, but the mental enjoyment of a man using the orifice he eats with to pleasure an anus. The man eating ass must submit to something that in "normal" society would be considered more disgusting than butt-fucking. With first-time gay men and men like Sven, who deny their own true pleasures, this is an ultimate act of submission.
Oddly enough, when I eat a man's ass, the man I'm eating usually thinks it's what makes him a "woman" because in his mind, he equates it with a man eating his pussy.
Either way, I find it amusing because it's all labels.
I felt Sven's tongue contact my ass.
He ate greedily.
"Slow down and enjoy it, boy," I barked.
At the speed he was going, he'd pass out from exhaustion in mere minutes!
He obeyed my command and actually tried to be a bit creative about it, exploring my ring and hold, my cheeks and the terrain of a man's ass. He tried prodding, licking, lapping, prying and more techniques, all of which I enjoyed. He was very into this act.
After about 15 minutes of it, I stood and felt Sven's drool running down my legs.
I could have laid there for hours, but this wasn't about my pleasure. It was about Sven's true needs.
"Bark," I ordered.
Silence. I hadn't expected him to bark. Few men will bark at this point.
"Bark," I repeated.
I moved the bar stool and put my dick in his face, reaching under to find his nipple clamps and tightening both, nearly simultaneously. He sucked in a sharp breath.
"Bark," I said, knowing he still wouldn't.
"I can't do that," he cried, actual tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, from his own denial and the clamps on his nipples.
Precum from my cock smeared across his forehead.
"Then suck my cock," I instructed, smacking his face with my turgid tool.
I saw his eyes lock on the cock before his lips.
I drool precum like some people drool while sleeping.
More precum was on the floor from Sven's ass eating than his own saliva.
He tentatively lapped at the juice.
"I thought you weren't a cocksucker, boy," I sneered. Sven had rejected Marcus' cock a few days earlier because of his problem with labels.
Sven was a macho ex-marine. A muscled policeman who stopped lesbians in their tracks. He was blonde, built and buff.
He was totally not my type.
Sven's tongue stopped with my statement.
"I'm not, sir," he stammered.
"Lick my dick, boy," I commanded.
He didn't move. I raised a hand and smacked down hard on his ass cheeks.
I repeated this motion with my barehand until my hand stung from the use, but I pushed myself to get a proper response from Sven.
Finally, with tears welling in his sockets, a tongue slipped forth and licked my dick.
Only the precum-drooling head of my cock was within his tongue's reach.
He tasted the dick-juice, savoring its flavor, its gel-like texture.
He didn't spit it out, he didn't gag, he didn't do anything but taste and feel.
Then he had seconds and thirds and ...
He literally moved his body in a way that made the bench jump forward enough for him to get more of my dick in his mouth.
Once I was sure he was ready, I fed him more cock.
"Breath through yer nose, boy," I suggested. I do like to hear a boy gag, but this boy wouldn't be ready for that. It wasn't what he needed anyway.
He was working a lot of dick down his gullet, lapping at its length, and once even tried slipping his tongue in the piss slit.
I warned against teeth, but it was more of an afterthought as opposed to a warning.
He wasn't a expert cocksucker, but he wasn't bad. He made an effort, but I knew it was all so he could taste more precum.
At some point, I was sure the taste of my cock would register in his mind as being the same taste he'd sucked from Marcus' hole, and maybe it already had and he was working his mouth to ooze the cream from my balls.
I can get sucked for hours, just like I can get eaten for hours, so I lost track of time. Even an expert cocksucker can only do so much, and we'd passed the hour and a half mark when Sven's jaws just wouldn't do it anymore.
His jaw and neck were both exhausted.
The time had come for Sven's breaking.
I walked to the side of the bench, and started petting his back. I glanced back and saw a puddle of precum under his stiff rod. I leaned down, putting my mouth to his ear.
"I'm going to fuck you now, boy," I whispered. "Yer dick says yer ready."
"I thought you weren't interested," he smirked.
Still resisting. Still unable to let go of his ego, his preconceived ideas of normal and his misconceived beliefs in sex.
I leaned down further and released his arms, then turned and released his legs.
He stood, wobbly.
"Move around and get ready," I said. "You can leave now, unfulfilled, and never to return, or you can stay and lose your virgin ass to my penis."
He flexed his arms and legs, showing their power. Sven could easily beat me to death, towering over me with his 6'4", 220 pounds of muscle frame to my 5'9", carbo gut, pale skinned build. He stood there, militarily trained to kill in dozens of way, with a dick hard enough to pierce an armored tank, powerful enough to have almost any man or woman he wanted.
"I'm not interested in you, Officer Sven. I'm going to fuck you. If you want more after tonight, I will use you until I can find another man to fuck you who IS interested in you. But I'm not interested."
He still had the look of someone who couldn't believe the rejection he was hearing. I couldn't imagine a woman who'd said no to him, if he'd asked.
I'm sure many smart women had never let themselves be put in the position of going home with the man that made Neanderthals look like chess champions.
"Bark," I said.
A very timid and unconvincing "woof" left his throat, barely audible and very soft.
"Bedroom," I commanded.
He didn't move, and I caught his eyes darting toward the sling.
I mentally rolled my eyes.
The sling was a special pleasure, reserved for those who were good and good at what they did.
Sven was neither. He was a wanton puppy, disrespectful and needing potty training.
I could not believe he was interested in the sling.
"Bedroom," I repeated and headed that direction.
I looked in a mirror and saw Sven eyeing the sling, St. Andrews and the porn's credits. Nipple clamps clung to his pecs and his cock stood erect, shiny from his own precum.
He longed for the use to continue in that room, but that wouldn't do.
Sven would need to be broken in the setting he knew well. The squeak of a bachelor's mattress where he'd banged countless women, making them think another night was possible while he knew a one-nighter was his highest goal. Sven couldn't even conceive of a second visit.
Yet, this was his second visit to my house.
He entered the room where before he'd eaten my dried cum from a hairy football player's shitter less than a week prior.
His mind was obviously replaying the scene.
"Butt muncher. Shit eater. Cocksucker. Fag. Homo," I whispered out each word with each footfall of Sven's bare feet.
Tears were visibly rolling down his cheeks. They were just words, but for Sven, they resonated in a way he did not like, but signified things he did enjoy.
He stood at the foot of my bed. I sat there, his large cock even with my eyes.
I laid back.
"Suck my cock, bitch!" I commanded.
Sven fell to his knees and lapped at my rod, drooling fiercely, knowing he belonged to a man that wasn't interested in him.
I would break Sven, mentally and physically. His mind was shredding from my instruction and his ass would split on cock spit-lubed cock.
I had to admit, this was my favorite way to take a virgin ass, my cock lubed with the virgin's spit, their saliva easing the way for their loss.
Sven dipped under my nuts, licking the area right under them, then gentling taking each nut in his mouth, then getting back on my dick.
I grabbed his short cut hair and lifted his face off my dick.
"Stand and turn," I commanded.
Sven did, and took the extra step of bending over.
"Reach back and spread yer cheeks," I cooed.
Sven did.
"Squat on to my cock, boy," I said.
He hesitated. He had to realize what he wanted at this point. I wasn't asking for it verbally any more.
Actions would speak louder than words. I wasn't going to take Sven's virginity; he was going to take it himself, on my dick lubed with his drool.
I could hear sobs of revelation as he backed up and I guided his ass to its goal.
He squatted, and the muscled ring of his hole rested on the tip of my dick.
I reach around and smeared his cock head shiny with his own precum, using it as lube to jack his cock.
I used a technique I'd used before, although rarely. I gave his cock pain and pulled his hips down on my dick. His ass seated itself with just a couple of inches inside.
He gasped, sighed, cried, and murmured, all at the same time, a sound not of innocence lost, for his was long gone, but of sex understood. The sound filled the bedroom for a brief second that lasted an eternity.
He lowered himself on my masterful scepter, realizing my command of his body and mind and as each atom of cock skin slid in his in shitter, he submitted to me more, and realized what he couldn't verbalize.
Sven would be returning to the house.
I knew this and had started a search for a top man who was at least passingly interested in Sven.
I could do Sven more, but the less, for me, the better.
When Sven felt my pubic hairs against his shaved hole, he started doing squat thrusts, slow ones, on my spit-lubed pisser.
Sven's body blocked my view, but I knew Sven could see himself in the mirror, a big man with another man's dick sliding into his butt.
I again lost track of time. Sven rode me for a while, then I bent him over the foot of the bed and plowed him, then laid him on his side on the bed and pumped him.
Other positions were done.
When I was ready to cum, there were but 2 tasks left.
"Bark," I commanded.
"Woof! Woof!" he complied without hesitation.
"Louder, boy," I commanded.
Sven did.
"Where do you want my cum, boy?" I asked.
"Breed my bitch hole, sir!" he cried.
"It's not a bitch hole. It's a man's ass. It's your ass," I stated, thrusting in that tight, muscled hole. "Where do you want my cum, boy?"
"In my ass, sir," he begged.
"In your officer ass, boy?" I pushed.
"Yes, sir. In my ex-military, police shit hole, sir!" He sounds like a cadet trying to please a drill sergeant.
"And if I want it down yer throat, boy?" I queried.
"Please, sir," he loudly whimpered. "My ass, my mouth. Where ever you want, sir."
I pulled out.
Sven was on his back and I sat on his abs, his mouth unable to reach my dick.
I shot. The first river of sperm arched from my staff, clearing Sven's face, marking my headboard, then lying down across Sven's left shoulder and chest. The second shot snatched Sven's hairline, creaming his face between his eyes, laying on his nose and across his lips, lathering his neck.
When I finished, Sven was creamed, and I'd managed to avoid his eyes. His tongue was tentatively tasting my cum.
I dismounted his abs, and left the bed.
"You can stay there as long as you need," I said, tossing a towel into a hand lying limply beside his body.
His cock was still rock hard; it had not seen release in more than 2 hours. "You may beat off, boy."
I showered and went into the kitchen for a snack.
I checked the clock. It was 3 a.m.
I hadn't heard Sven leave, but it's hard to tell from the shower. I usually have my boys tear down the dungeon, but Sven couldn't. He had no idea where anything went. And I wasn't sure he was still there.
I walked to the bed room, and there he was. He'd wiped himself off, but was still rock hard.
"Thank you, sir," he said, sitting up as I stood in the doorway.
"Did you cum, officer?"
"No, sir. But I am satisfied."
I could see in his eyes that understanding was starting.
"Good, boy."
"May I..." He voice trailed off.
"Look me in the eye, boy," I commanded.
"May I...may I stay the night, sir," he asked, but it had the sound of desperation, the tone of a lost soul seeking a foundation and denying the true answers.
I seldom shove broken men out in the streets, and to do so tonight would be a mistake. If he left now, he'd find some woman.
"You may stay, boy, but my house, my rules."
"Yes, sir," he replied. "I'll sleep at the foot of the bed."
"No! That's the dog's bed. You'll sleep in the bed, with me.
"Get up and pull the covers back for me, boy," I said.
"Yes, sir," he obeyed, pulling back the covers and letting me lay, adjusting to a comfortable position.
"Get in, boy."
Sven crawled beside me, first laying on his back.
With my hands, I positioned him on his side, his ass aligning with my hard cock, my head resting even with his shoulder blades. A hand wrapped around his torso, petting his 8-pack and working up to a nipple.
Hm, clamp still there. This is going to hurt! I removed it and quickly removed the other.
He moaned in a mix of agony and pleasure.
I pulled the covers over us both and sighed.
He'd go in the morning and hopefully, I'd find another man to use him before I'd have to worry about a return visit.
I also knew Marcus would be in early that morning.
I needed some rest before Marcus arrived.
I slipped my cock back up Sven's shitter and fell asleep.
To be continued. But not under this title. Look for Tails of Marcus in the future. But not the near future.
Men and boys, thanks for your comments. If you send something, remember to put something in the subject line, or I think it's spam and delete it. Master Terra D masterterradil@yahoo.com