The Rules

The Rules

Part Two: The Second Rule Is Broken, and So Is the Hero's Ass

MM+, MF+, bd, ds, hm

Deidre put her hands to her hips. The crop jutted from under her arm like general's swagger stick.

"Well," she said. "It seems price has been established: one dollar." She bent beside the whiteboard, erased the word FIVE, and replaced it with ONE using a black marker. Her hindquarters waggled as she did so, on purpose I'm sure. Then she surveyed the crowd.

At least thirty people stood before me now. A few of them had the older look of professors or staff, and there was a woman or two, but most were young men – athletic types from the nearby frats who had stopped to see the show. In the early summer heat, they wore next to nothing, exposing their strong arms and toned legs. A few were ugly, but I'd beg and pay for just about any one of them to fuck me any way he wanted.

Not that I'd have a choice, and, of course, they'd be paying me: one dollar each.

"Now, who wants his ass?" Deidre asked.

Half a dozen hands went up: an older man in a tweed jacket, five jocks, and one blonde, short-haired girl's. I didn't even want to think about how the girl intended to do me. And the old guy was, well, old.

Deidre reached the same conclusion. "Not you or you," she said. "`Only men under twenty five.' Can't you read the sign?" The professor huffed and the girl backed away, disappointment on her face. Deidre considered the remaining five jocks. They all looked mouth-watering to me – broad-shouldered, toned without being absurdly huge: runners or swimmers, not line-backers. She flicked her crop at the tallest one. He had dark, cropped hair and pale skin, and wore a black tee-shirt and khaki shorts.

"You," she said. "What's your name?"

"Martin," he said.

Deidre ran the tip of the crop over his chest. "Why should you be the one to break in my slut's rear hole?" she asked.

Martin's blue eyes flashed wickedly. He liked this game. He said, "Because I have a really big dick," he said. "And I don't intend to have any mercy. Plus, I have my dollar." He held it up.

"How big?" Deidre asked.

Martin gripped himself through his shorts. When the fabric pulled tight, his package looked like the proverbial two pairs of the socks. "Do you want to see it?" he asked.

"No," she said. "But I think you should show it to the slut. He should witness what he's about to receive."

Martin tossed his dollar into the dish. He undid his shorts, pulled them down, and cast them aside. One of the girls in the crowd caught them. "Hold those for me," he told her.

He strode up to my face, his cock bouncing under the hem of his tee-shirt as he walked. When he got to me, he pulled that over his head too, and cast it somewhere behind him. I didn't see if anyone caught it. I had eyes only for his enormous pale cock.

Perspective presented some difficulty, with it jutting right at my nose like that, but I judged it to be about eight or nine inches long and thick as a jumbo Kielbasa.

Martin slapped my cheeks with it, bringing himself to full hardness.

"Do you like that?" he asked. The head of his cock flared huge and purple at the end of a paper-white shaft. "That's going in your ass. Do you want it?"

I nodded and moaned. I wasn't sure I could take it, but I certainly wanted to try.

Martin laughed and circled my rear. His ass-cheeks flexed over muscular thighs as he passed the out of my field of view behind the stocks. I imagined the strength of them driving his mammoth cock into my body, and I shuddered.

His unseen hands passed grazed my denim-clad ass. "Condoms only?" he remarked. "What a shame. Well, toss me one," he directed Deidre.

She looked at Martin over my shoulder, then back at my face. "I think the slut has too many rules. `Condoms only. Only men under twenty-five.' No wonder he's only worth a dollar. Who wants to use a hole with so many restrictions? Feel free to bareback him," she declared.

Oh shit! I thought! Oh shit! What about disease? What about the mess? Oh, god! But meanwhile, Martin's hands were kneading my ass. His questing fingers found my hard package.

"I know you want it," he said. He discovered I'd cum in my pants from Scott. "I can feel you're already damp."

He opened my belt and unzipped my fly.

"No!" I said. "Shit!" I thrashed against my restraints, and turned my head to try see what Martin was doing. He slapped me on the ass.

"Hold still!" he commanded. He gripped my jeans and yanked them down.

"Let me out!" I screamed.

"Shut the fuck up!" said Martin. He tore my briefs away. His monster cock poked me from behind, hot and heavy and huge. Its tip bounced up and down on my ass. Martin pressed the shaft against my cheeks with his palm. "Ahh!" he said. "That feels great. Keep wiggling, slut."

I looked at Deidre. This was against the rules we'd set up. Was my wife really going to let this man rape me?

Deidre leaned in close and stared me in the eye. "Here's the offer, slut. You still have your safe word. You can use it. Martin will get his dollar back, I will pack you up, and we'll go home. Maybe we can cuddle or some other wussy crap. I won't think that much less of you. Or you can accept my rewrite to your rules, and an endless line of boys will fuck your hole till cum runs down your legs.

This brought me up hard. Why was I doing this, if it wasn't for the power, the humiliation, the cock? "Oh, damn," I moaned. "Yes!"

"Yes what?" asked Deidre.

"Yes, erase the rule! Change it! Anything. Just don't stop!"

Deidre grinned. "Good slut," she said.

She turned to the white board. Gingerly lifting one of the dollars from the plate, she regarded the sandwich board and erased the line about condoms. It now read:

HOLES FOR SALE

• Only men.

• Must be under 25 years of age

• Must show college ID.

• No ass to mouth.

• No shit. No piss. No blood.

• Do not harm the whore.

• ONE DOLLAR

The management reserves the right to refuse any customer at any time.

She made her erasure with a flourish, and when she stood back up, the crowd cheered. My list of rules was getting shorter. I wondered how many more she would erase.

Deidre turned back to the four jocks who'd raised their hands. "You boys can have his ass next. Or, may I suggest instead that the front hole is still open for business and broken in."

One of the jocks, a blonde in a blue striped shirt said, "I think I'll wait for the ass."

Two others stepped forward. The one brunette had his jeans open before he reached my face. Another one, also blonde, was hopping on one foot, trying to get his shoes off. I guess he wanted to strip all the way down.

From somewhere in the crowd, a boy asked, "What about the rest of us?"

Deidre regarded the unseen man. "You're under twenty-five? You're male. You have a college ID? Throw your dollar in the jar and line up at which ever end you want."

The third boy, thin with dark hair, pressed forward, cock already out of his fly.

Martin pulled my thighs apart. The rough callouses of his fingers grazed my balls as they worked backwards towards my hole. "Just don't crowd me," he said.

The brunette thrust his cock at my face; it was pale, slightly ruddy and thick, maybe a bit under six inches. Dark-hair and Shoe-boy stroked their cocks at me from either side.

"Is it okay if we use his hands?" Shoe-boy asked from the left. I recognized his blonde baby face as it leered down at me.

"Whatever," Deidre said. "Just try to shoot on his face or ass if you come."

The brunette laid his hands on top of my head and slid his cock into my mouth. My tongue luxuriated against its silky under-side. As he pumped, his body tensed and flexed inches from my face. Looking up, the line of his abs filled my vision, and above that, an angelic grinning face.

Shoe-boy pressed his dick into my flexing hand. I gripped it eagerly, feeling its length, as the three boys crowded around me. The dark-headed boy on my right inserted himself into my other hand. I pulled as best I could on both of them, feeling of silky skin rolling over hard shafts. The boys pumped each restrained fist like a hole.

Meanwhile, Martin slid first one finger, then two into my asshole. They felt slick. I knew Deidre had placed a basket of lube and condoms next to my right foot. I assumed Martin had helped himself to some KY, although maybe it was just his spit. His hands fanned out across my ass, finding each cheek and spreading them. Then one withdrew. He pressed the head of his cock against my hole. It felt like a fist against my sphincter. My panic returned, and I thrashed.

The crowd laughed.

Martin placed his big hand on the small of my back. "Steady there, little man," he said.

I yelped around the brunette kid's cock. He didn't like that much and punished me by thrusting hard into my mouth. My hands stopped working on the other two boy's cocks, too; they made complaining noises.

Martin drove his huge cock slowly but relentlessly against my sphincter. My ring expanded against the tip. Then, with a pop, his head shoved inside. His huge shaft followed, opening me up a crazy width. I screamed, but whether any sound managed to make it out past the brunette fucking my face I couldn't tell. Maybe no one discerned my cry of agony.

Martin held his cock in me, flexing it. His smooth flesh felt so good. I realized every cock, every toy I'd ever taken had felt of rubber – actual flesh felt hot and hard and so human. How had I ever persuaded myself that anything could feel so good as honest skin? My ass relaxed around the intruder.

Martin's stance changed. He gave a little lateral kick against my ankles, gripped my hips, and abruptly withdrew his cock. Only his mammoth head remained inside me. He lingered there a moment, then rammed into my rectum again. His hips collided against my ass, and his balls slapped against my perineum.

As Martin's motions became less painful and more arousing, I turned my attention to my tongue and hands. Belatedly, I realized that I'd been neglecting the duties on my front end. I used my fingertips to explore the cocks of the two boys on either side. My tongue took up a massage on the brunette's shaft as I sucked. Soon an appreciative groan arose in his chest, vibrating his belly and thighs: my reward. I had pleased him.

I was just a set of holes now. Martin's huge cock rammed my ass, and the brunette fucked my mouth. The stocks and pillories prevented any but the most tiny of my own movements. I clenched against Martin. I tongued the boy in my mouth. My fingers gripped the cocks in my hands. The boys using me might have noticed. It might even have made them a bit hotter. Fundamentally, though, they were just pushing themselves against me for friction. My actions, my skills (if any), were irrelevant beside the basic calculus of flesh on flesh.

The brunette was the first to cum. He swelled and gave a shuddering moan. He pulled out and blasted all over my face. The dark-haired boy on my right couldn't stand it either. He yanked his cock out of my fist and aimed it at my face. He let fly on me, groaning the while. I think he was ashamed he hadn't lasted longer.

The brunette dragged his softening cock against the mess on my face and stepped back. The boy on my left – the one who had so carefully taken off his shoes – hurried into his place. Without pausing, he jammed his cock into my mouth and thrust. I gagged.

Shoe-boy came almost immediately. He shot his load into my throat and mouth and let me choke on it. The smell and taste of him was overpowering, pungent, gooey. I licked my lips, catching the overflow.

Martin was really fucking me now. The girth of his cock ploughed me open. When his head jammed against the top of my colon, I shuddered and groaned. His size challenged and pressed. But it no longer hurt -- it merely held the promise – erotic, insistent – of hurt, should the pressure cross a threshold.

The three boys who had just cum crowded around my face. For the most part, they stood naked, their taut bodies shining with sweat in the sun. The black-haired one still wore his shirt and pants, but they were soaked in perspiration

Deidre said, "What are your names, boys? Names make things more memorable."

"Brett," said the brunette who'd been fucking my mouth.

"Danny," said Shoe-boy.

"Rob," said Dark-hair.

"One price pays for as many turns as you want," said Deidre. "Anyone else who wants, the slut's mouth is officially open."

Would I be bragging if I said there was a rush? There was a rush. The frat boys who had been lining up for my mouth pushed Brett and Danny and Rob aside. There was a redhead, his shirt already off and his shorts open around his fly. He was beating his meat in anticipation. To the other side, stood a dark, curly-haired boy. He'd taken nothing off at all, but he groped himself through his jeans. The third was a black boy. He'd already shucked off his shorts and had them over one shoulder. He too stroked his long cock – a deep color with a lighter pink head.

Behind me, Martin approached his limit. His balls collided with mine. His cock swelled beyond a size to which any boy had a right and became an instrument of extremes. His hands held my hips in place. His belly collided with my ass as he gave a last thrust.

Martin groaned and pumped and screamed. His cock-head flared enormously, and then he was shooting his load inside me, hot and wet.

I did too, emitting a cry somewhere between ecstasy and pain. The next round of frat-boys fell back from my face.

My cock twitched between my legs, and I almost came a second time. Not quite.

Martin pulled back out, already softening. My ass clenched spasmodically. Liquid leaked from my hole and ran down my legs into the folds of my jeans around my calves. Martin wiped himself on my ass.

"Not bad for a dollar," he said. He slapped my raised cheeks so hard my legs wobbled. "Next!" he declared.