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This is the sixth chapter of a story that contains EXTREME SCAT and BDSM. Do not read it these topics offend you. The main submissive's name is Faggot throughout. If this word offends you, please do not read.
This story is the result of my tinkering with AI story generators. I wanted to generate the most vulgar story I could. In order to maintain the voice of the story that I wanted to tell, I have modified whole chunks of the AI's creation while leaving other portions alone.
Trucker Jack Chapter 6
The sun was barely cresting over the horizon when Jack pulled up to the Ranch in his trailer-less semi. The engine rumbled to a stop, parked with other semis, a few pick-ups, some SUV's, and a number of other sedans. In the distance was a helicopter sitting still.
Jack stepped out, stretching his tall frame as he surveyed the sprawling property. The dry air was thick with the scent of sweat and musk, carrying the promise of what lay ahead.
A naked worker--hairless, lean, and sinewy, with a primitive tattoo just above his navel--approached Jack with a sly grin. "Welcome, Sir Jack. We've been waiting for you. Are you in need of a blowjob or urinal service?"
Jack raised an eyebrow, his face impassive. "Not right now," he said curtly, brushing off the offer with a wave of his hand. The worker nodded quickly, retreating without protest. Jack didn't have time for distractions; he had come here for one thing, and one thing only.
Dave appeared moments later, wearing only his tank top. His long dick swung free between his legs, drawing immediate attention. His face was rugged, with a few days' worth of stubble, and his eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and dominance. "Jack," he greeted, his tone casual yet commanding. "Glad you were able to find this place."
"No shit, we really are in the middle of nowhere," Jack replied with a smirk, falling into step beside Dave as they made their way toward the massive lodge. The two-story building loomed ahead, its exterior weathered but imposing, a testament to the power dynamics within.
"Alright," Dave began, his voice dropping to a conversational tone as they walked. "Before you step inside, there are a few rules you need to know. First, all slaves are slaves to every man here. No exceptions. You don't get to dictate who your slave fag serves or how he serves. We do respect if owners want their property in your bed with them at night. That is usually arranged." He paused, letting the implication hang in the air.
Jack shook his head. "No need," he said firmly. "Not interested in that."
Dave nodded, satisfied. "Good. Next rule: flipping between top and bottom is strictly forbidden. If you see a man you want to bottom for, you do that after the weekend away from here."
Jack gave a very stern look at Dave.
"Hey I still have to go over it. It keeps the everybody on the same page. This also includes blowjobs. Rimming is allowed. For some weird reason, some masters like to eat slave pussy. I don't get it. Why would a man want to eat where a slave shits? That's done by slaves, not by men. But oh well."
Jack watched Dave walking in front of him, his tight ass moving in perfect rhythm. Jack swore he will have that ass wrapped around his cock. Based on that last rule, it will need to be away from here.
"As you can see, slaves wear chastity cages to prevent any? distractions. The cages were constructed to hide what was there. Only we have the key. It will not be removed until the weekend is over. We use an inverted cage to push the shaft into the slave's body. It's painful when the slave gets aroused. The other reason we use them is to completely hide the slave's shaft. It makes them look castrated."
He gestured vaguely toward Jack's crotch, as if to remind him of the purpose of their visit.
"Lastly, all men go pantsless. No jocks either. Nothing to cover the cock or the ass. It will probably feel weird, but in the end it, it will make sense. You'll see that cock and ass is everything here. Every chair, every seat has a hole for you to get eaten out. Even at meals, your shitter will be eaten out as you enjoy a great meal. While feeding of slaves is encouraged, we do ask to do that in the basement play area. It is well ventilated. Most men don't want the smell of shit in the air all the time. Fucking, sucking, beating can happen pretty much anywhere. Because play happens so much, generally everyone goes about their business without paying too much attention. Maybe give yourself a little tug, but that's about it. And while it's not a rule, you won't be able to jack off." Dave's tone turns jokingly. "The slaves here are trained to offer their services when a man starts playing with himself. And with your cock, the slaves will be fighting over you."
Dave pointed to Jack's sweatpants as they arrived at the front entrance.
"Oh" Jack chuckled as he removed them. One of the slaves offered to carry it.
"You will find out, that dick is what runs this place. Big dicks rule. And with that hog between your legs, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. The hierarchy just evolved that way. That's part of the reason why we use inverted chastity cages on the slaves, to remind them that they have no useful dick, and they have no power."
Dave reaches for Jack's cock. Jack smiled and allowed him.
"Damn. That's the biggest cock I have ever seen. I think you might be bigger than the owner. How big is it?"
Jack smiled. "10 inches. If I'm really horny, I can get to 10-and-a-half."
"Damn. You might be bigger than the owner. I would love to see that comparison happen."
"I get that all the time. I have yet to meet a guy that's longer than me. I have met a couple of men that were thicker, but both were sizably shorter. Last night at the truck stop there was a guy that was hell bent on comparing, and his whole demeanor changed when he realized that he wasn't the biggest cock. He was shocked and felt inferior."
"Dicks rule around here. Big dicks especially. And we've got a wide variety of ED meds available too, if you need them. Tri-Mix, Viagra, Cialis, whatever keeps you hard and ready. We have a doctor slave on site here that gets us the best shit ever."
They entered the building. It was huge. There was a massive fireplace directly ahead. About two or three active fuckings were going on. A couple of men were smoking cigars and laughing while slaves were throating their cocks.
As they walked into the main room, Faggot appeared, his lean frame covered only by an inverted chastity cage that left no doubt about his role. His skin glistened with sweat, and his dark eyes locked onto Jack with a mixture of fear and resignation. Jack couldn't help but notice how thoroughly they'd denuded him, leaving no hair below his nose. "Impressive work," Jack said, his lips curling into a faint smile as he ran his hand down the fag boy's torso. "Looks like he's already ready."
Dave snorted. "Oh, he's more than ready. Come on."
They followed Dave down a dimly lit hallway, then down a staircase. The walls lined with rough-hewn wood and metal fixtures that screamed functionality. The air grew heavier, thicker with the scent of sex and submission. They passed a blue painted room where half a dozen pieces of sex furniture were placed. Some fucking was going on. They came to the end of the hall with three entrances. The first was a communal shower room. The second was a brown painted room which clearly where the nasty shit play happened. A grey-haired master was smearing his faggot with shit from a pail in the center of the room. The slave looked repulsed.
The third was a red painted sling room. The space was vast, dominated by a series of leather slings suspended from the ceiling, each positioned for maximum humiliation and degradation. Men lounged around the room, some shirtless, others in tank tops that highlighted their muscular builds. Their cocks hung heavy and half-erect. A few had their arms already up a slave's cunt.
Dave turned to Jack, his expression serious. "We normally have the faggots here douched and cleaned inside out at the shit pit in back before they come out on the floor, but there was a request for an ass-full faggot by one of the men here." He addressed Faggot, "Get up in that sling."
Jack lingered for a moment, watching as Faggot climbed into the sling in the center of the room, where several burly men were already lounging in chairs, their cocks standing at attention. One started applying lube to his fist. Jack recognized him as the biker from the rest area on the first night.
"Enjoying the tour?" a deep voice rumbled behind him.
Jack turned to see Hank--broad-shouldered and intimidating, with a face lined by years of hard living--walking down the hallway. His cock was half-hard, swaying slightly with each movement, and his eyes glinted with amusement.
"Just taking it all in," Jack replied smoothly, meeting Hank's gaze without flinching. "Seems like this place has got everything a man could want."
The biker approached Jack, Hank and Dave.
"I think you recognize Spike?" Hank asked Jack.
"Oh yeah from the other night at the rest stop."
Spike smiled. "Good to see you made it. You going to watch me destroy your cunt's cunt?"
Hank replied for Jack. "Nah. I'm going to finish taking him on the tour."
"My faggot is all yours." Jack smiled. Both he and Hank turned to walk away. Spike smiled and approached Faggot.
Spike stepped forward to the sling, his towering frame casting a shadow over where Faggot lay trembling. The young man's body was slick with sweat, his legs spread wide and secured by thick straps, leaving his cunt exposed and vulnerable. Spike didn't waste any time. He knelt beside Faggot, his rough hand reaching out to grip the younger man's hip. Faggot whimpered, his breath hitching as Spike's fingers probed at his entrance. Faggot already had to take a massive shit, and now he was going to be fisted.
"Relax, boy," Spike growled, his voice deep and commanding. "You know what's coming. Take it like a good little faggot."
Faggot bit down on his lip, trying to steady himself. He knew better than to resist, but the thought of Spike's massive hand disappearing inside him made his stomach twist. Still, he nodded weakly, his body tensing as Spike shifted closer.
Spike smeared a handful of lube onto his fingers, the cold liquid dripping down his wrist. He pressed his thumb against Faggot's hole, pushing slowly but firmly. Faggot gasped, his body recoiling slightly before giving way under Spike's strength. The older man chuckled darkly, his free hand gripping Faggot's thigh hard enough to leave marks.
"That's it," Spike said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Take it. You love this, don't you faggot? Being used like a piece of meat."
Faggot couldn't answer, his throat tight as Spike added another finger, then a third. Each push was deliberate, each movement calculated to stretch him, to prepare him for what was to come. Spike wasn't rushing, though. He was savoring every moan, every twitch of Faggot's body as his fingers worked deeper.
"You're so fucking tight," Spike muttered, leaning in closer. "Relax. I know you're full of shit. I asked them not to clean you out."
Faggot felt tears sting his eyes, but he didn't dare let them fall. Instead, he focused on breathing, on letting Spike do what he wanted. It wasn't long before Spike pulled his fingers free smeared with shit, leaving Faggot feeling empty and exposed. A turd flopped out landing in a collection pan on the floor. Before he could process what was happening, Spike had coated his entire hand in shit. The sound of another turd falling echoed through the room.
The smell of Faggot's waste filled the room. Even though the smell was as familiar to the men in the room, it still was nasty. Only a tall grey haired tattooed master and his fuckhole slave were fucking in the sling on the opposite side of the room.
"Here we go," Spike said, his voice low and predatory. "Take my fist, boy."
Faggot's heart pounded as Spike lined his hand up with his hole. The first push was slow, almost gentle, but firm enough to elicit a strangled cry from Faggot. Spike paused, waiting for Faggot to adjust, his other hand gripping the younger man's thigh tightly.
"Relax," Spike ordered again, his voice brooking no argument. "Or this will hurt a lot more than it has to."
Faggot took a shaky breath, forcing himself to loosen up. He could feel the pressure building, his body fighting against the intrusion. But Spike wasn't going to give him a choice. With a growl, the older man pushed harder, his wrist flexing as his knuckles breached Faggot's rim.
"Fuck!" Faggot screamed, his body arching off the sling. Pain shot through him, white-hot and overwhelming. He clung to the restraints, his nails digging into the leather as Spike continued to force his way in.
"Good boy," Spike grunted, his voice strained with effort. "Taking it like a faggot should."
Faggot wanted to scream again, but the sound caught in his throat as Spike's hand sank deeper. He could feel every inch of Spike's massive fist inside him, stretching him in ways he never thought possible. His vision blurred, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to breathe through the pain.
"Almost there," Spike promised, his voice soothing despite the brutality of his actions. "Just a little more."
With one last thrust, Spike's entire hand disappeared inside Faggot. The younger man's body went rigid, his screams muffled by the gag in his mouth. Spike held still for a moment, giving Faggot time to adjust before he began to move.
"There we go," Spike said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now that's how you take it, boy."
Faggot whimpered, his body trembling as Spike started to work his hand inside him. The pain was intense, but there was something else too--something raw and primal that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't deny the arousal coursing through his veins. He let out a moan.
"Oh, look at you," Spike chuckled, his voice full of mockery. "Moaning for me while I wreck your ass. You really are a little bitch faggot, aren't you?"
Faggot couldn't respond, his mind too foggy from the mixture of pain and pleasure. All he could do was hang limply in the sling, his body completely at Spike's mercy as the older man continued to brutalize his hole.
Faggot's only response was a whimper, his body jerking as Spike's fist slammed deeper inside him. He didn't know how much longer he could endure this, but he also knew there was no escape. Not here, not now. He was just a toy, meant to be used and discarded.
"Answer me," Spike demanded, his voice cracking like a whip.
"Yes" Faggot managed to choke out, his voice barely audible.
Spike laughed, a harsh, barking sound that echoed through the room. "Good boy. Now, let's see how much you can really take." Spike growled, his movements growing more aggressive. "Take it. And when I'm done with you, those men are going to have their way with you."
Faggot braced himself, his body tensing as Spike pulled his hand halfway out before slamming it back in with brutal force. The younger man screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate, but Spike didn't stop. If anything, his movements grew even more relentless, his fist pistoning in and out of Faggot's abused hole.
"Fuck, you're packed," Spike muttered, his voice strained with exertion. "But you're loosening up. Keep taking it, boy. Show me how much of a faggot you really are."
Faggot's mind was a blur of pain and pleasure, his body betraying him as his cunt twitched, pulsating with each brutal thrust of Spike's hand. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't deny the arousal coursing through his veins.
Spike's hand was buried deep inside Faggot's ass, his knuckles pressing against the stretched, overworked flesh. The slop--a thick mixture of filth and waste--coated his fist, acting as a grotesque lubricant as he worked Faggot's hole like a fleshy glove. Each movement sent shocks of pain through Faggot, but there was no stopping Spike now.
"You feel that?" Spike growled, his voice low and guttural. "That's your cunt gripping me, boy. Beg for it."
Faggot whimpered, his face pressed into the cold, damp floor. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with every thrust of Spike's fist. "P-Please? I can't? it hurts?"
"Good," Spike sneered, his free hand gripping Faggot's balls and yanking them out. "You wanted this, didn't you, faggot? You begged for it. So take it. Take it all."
With a savage grunt, Spike drove his fist deeper, forcing another scream from Faggot's throat. The younger man's body arched involuntarily, his cock twitching inside its cage as a small puddle of pre-cum seeped out. Spike noticed, of course.
"Still getting off on this, huh?" Spike said, his tone dripping with mockery. "Even when I'm tearing your hole apart, you're straining to get hard. Such a little piece of shit faggot."
Faggot couldn't deny it. The pain was overwhelming, but so was the humiliation, and somewhere deep inside, he found himself craving both. It was wrong, he knew that, but he couldn't stop himself from moaning as Spike's hand moved faster, his wrist slamming against Faggot's ass with bruising force.
"Fuck, you're tight," Spike muttered, his voice strained. "But you're loosening up. Good boy. Show me how much you love it."
Faggot tried to focus on the sensation, to let it consume him completely. He could feel Spike's fingers spreading him wider, stretching him beyond anything he'd ever experienced. The slop coated every inch of Spike's hand, making the movements slick and almost rhythmic, though the raunchy brutality never wavered.
"Is this what you want, faggot?" Spike demanded, his voice booming. "You want my fist in your cunt? Huh? Tell me."
"Y-Yes?" Faggot choked out, his voice barely audible. "I want it? please?"
"Fucking faggot" Spike said with contempt. But that didn't stop him from increasing the intensity of his thrusts.
Faggot's mind was a haze of pain and pleasure, his body betraying him as his hole clenched around Spike's fist. He could feel every rough edge of Spike's calloused hand, the way it rubbed against his insides, the way it made him ache and burn and tremble.
With that, Spike pulled his hand almost all the way out, leaving Faggot feeling empty and exposed. But before he could even process the sensation, Spike slammed his fist back in with brutal force, burying it deep and sending a fresh wave of agony through Faggot's body.
"AHHH!" Faggot screamed, his voice echoing off the walls. He couldn't stop himself from bucking against Spike's hand, his body trying to escape the unbearable sensation even as his mind craved more.
"That's it," Spike said, his voice hoarse with exertion. "Take it, you goddamed whore."
Faggot's vision blurred, tears streaming down his face as Spike continued to work his hole. The slop dripped down his asscrack, falling to the collection pan on the floor beneath him as Spike's hand moved faster and faster, each thrust more punishing than the last.
"You were made for this," Spike said, his voice almost amused. "A born sewer faggot. You love this, don't you? You love having my shit covered fist in your ass."
"I, I don't know," Faggot sobbed, his voice breaking. "It hurts."
"Of course it hurts," Spike yelled. "That's what I want it to do, faggot!"
With that, Spike pulled his hand out completely covered in shit, leaving Faggot gasping for air and feeling oddly hollow. But before he could recover, Spike grabbed a handful of the slop and moved to smear it across Faggot's face. But he stopped and looked at the fag. Spike smiled. It was a big grin.
"Oh now I remember!" was what Spike said as he was covering Faggot's cheeks and nose in the foul-smelling mixture. "At the rest stop, I couldn't place where I saw you before. But now I remember." Spike's tone shifted from playful cruelty to something colder, harder.
Faggot looked up at his fister, puzzled. He was unsure why Spike stopped.
"There," Spike said, smearing the shit across his face. Stepping back and wiping his hand on a nearby rag, he added, "Now you look the part. A filthy little faggot." He smiled at the shit covered fag.
Faggot's chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, the slop clogging his nostrils and making him gag.
Spike leaned over and made sure he was heard and understood, "But filthy little faggot with a naughty, naughty,... naughty past."
Faggot looked up was puzzled at how he knew him, and he started to panic, at being exposed.
Spike turned to walk away. "He's all yours; show him no mercy" he said at the two men in leather as he walked by on his way to the shower room to wash off Faggot's shit.
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