Disclaimer: Erotica is not a how-to manual. Fiction is a great place to explore limits; in real life, tread carefully. ;) ---
Part IX
"I knew it, bitch."
I shoved my ass up higher into the open space, and Duke palmed it, paving paths with his hands, smoothing out stress and tension everywhere.
"God," I whispered.
I had worked so hard to not be in this position. To keep my desires tempered, to hold fast to my dignity and the social weight it afforded, to hide my vulnerability where no one could touch it.
But Duke didn't like that. He liked to toy around, to root out weakness, to test out the limits of bubbles, like the ones he had floated into my room and popped in my face.
Duke shivered on top of me, dry-humping me again and whispering in my ear. "You wanted me to hear that bullshit with Joey, didn't you? About men taking what they want? About you needing it? You were trying to make me jealous. Well--what would he think if he could see us now?"
"He—he broke it off with me. Because he knew."
"What did he know?"
"That you are the one I want Duke. I don't care if it doesn't make sense. I want you."
There went any semblance of my leverage.
"I know you do. You are a total fag for me. But still—your fantasy is about me taking you, isn't it? About me taking charge."
"Duke—"
"Don't answer with words," he growled, shoving me into the pillow again.
I bit the pillow, making my ass undulate up in the gap between us. He chuckled.
He grabbed a bottle of lube out from under his bed and fed some into his palm.
"Ohhh," I moaned. I felt his cool touch as he coated my hole. I couldn't control the prickle of hesitation running through me; I knew Duke could feel me tense up.
"I should warn you--I hate getting led on, Holden. I fuckin' HATE it. You better make damn sure this is what you want. I don't want to deal with your fickle shit tonight."
As Duke breathed in my ear, my pride floated further and further into the horizon. Slowly, I saw things his way.
I wanted Duke to test my limits too. I wanted him to push me to the edge.
"We can have a special word, Duke," I mumbled. "So that unless I say the word--you don't have to stop—even if I freak out." I tried to catch my breath. "I--I'm afraid, Duke. I'm afraid it will hurt. I'm afraid I'll have this innate impulse to get your monster out of me." I shivered. "I want you to MAKE me take it, Duke."
"So--what is your special word, boy?" Duke asked.
"Maraca."
"You understand what you are offering, right? You are agreeing to let me do whatever the fuck I want to you. Anything that isn't your special word, I'm gonna flat-out ignore. I can make you do--whatever I fuckin' want."
"That's what I want too, Duke."
"Sounds s'well to me."
He grabbed my hair and tilted my head up, and chuckled.
"Look at us. Look in the mirror."
The wall-length mirror captured everything. The grey light from the streetlamp glazed over us, outlining our bodies in silver, making the sweat seem to shimmer. Duke, in nothing but his tight A & F boxer-briefs, loomed over me, flexing for my benefit, the big black number `1' still etched into his chest. He smiled at me through the mirror as he ran his hands over my body.
Against Duke I looked so tense and lithe and vulnerable. I looked frail, almost, and by contrast, a little smaller, a little thinner, with very little hair on my body, and none on my ass. I knew there were guys that liked my preppy look (do you still call it preppy once you get to college?)—but Duke came from a different walk of life, each of us better according to our own standards. He had changed me—made me see things his way—and now I looked up to him.
Duke pulled the waistband of his boxers away from his body, tucking them under his balls. His monster cock flipped to attention—the cartoonish grandeur still a little bit of a shock, even now. Duke jacked his cock, taking time to smear lube everywhere on it, till it seemed to glare at me. He pushed his boxers down around his knees.
He groped my ass with his greasy hands, palming me till I was weak beneath him.
My ass flexed and I whimpered.
"Ready, bitch?"
I buried my face in the pillow, biting down, and held my ass up high.
"Not like that, boy," he said, pulling on my hair. "I want you to watch. I want you to see."
My head was tilted up again, a portion of the pillowcase still in my mouth as I sucked on it. I looked so childish.
I could feel it; I could see it in the mirror.
His slick, veiny cock dug between my ass cheeks and barely grazed my hole.
I shook my head. God, what was I thinking? Did I really think that monstrous THING could fit up my little hole? Fear gripped me; I couldn't look away; he wouldn't let me; I had to watch.
Duke pulled on my hair. "You'll do what I say, boy."
I wanted to make Duke happy. I wanted him to make my fantasies real.
I knew I wouldn't say the special word. I might protest—I had spent years building up contrived resistance till it was a knee-jerk defense mechanism—an amulet for difficult truths and lies--but I wouldn't think long enough to formulate the magic word now. There was something elusive up ahead, and I wanted to ride to it, and face it, and grasp at it, and feel it in my hands.
I wanted it in a visceral way that trumped words.
Duke saw something in my eyes, smirked, and rubbed my thighs.
I shivered.
Then, he plunged the head of his cock inside.
I squeaked and bit down hard. Duke tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my head back, and making me watch. My ass clenched down on his cock, fighting back against the invader.
"You want more, don't you?"
"Duke—it hurts."
"No pain no gain," he growled, shoving another inch inside.
I howled and ground my teeth.
"Please—Duke—slow down."
"I'll think about it."
He forced in a little more and I cried out.
I sniffed. A tear rolled down my cheek. I peered into the mirror, seeing the smooth mounds of my ass expand, speared by Duke's meaty, massive cock.
"Duke," I whispered.
He pushed in deeper and I gasped. I couldn't bring myself to say it. He thrust the words out of my body before they could form, leaving me mute and banded.
"Nnnm."
"Yeah, this is what you wanted, isn't it, bitch? You were desperate to get me deep inside you, but too proud to say it. Now, you don't even have to." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Shove your ass in the air."
My ass prickled with pain. I swallowed, and gently pushed up through it.
"Fuckin' faggot," he said, gripping my ass again. He pulled each ass cheek in opposite directions, stretching it as far as it would go, and opening my hole by the smallest of margins.
It was enough. His cock dug inside deeper.
"You were going to throw it all away because I wouldn't fuck you. I got you all horned up. What you couldn't admit was that you were in heat for me—for my cock. That prick Joey is a piss-poor substitute. And it tore you up inside that you wanted my cock more than I wanted to give it, because it made you seem pathetic and desperate. But you are pathetic and desperate for me. I'm not offended. In fact, it's your lucky day, because I've come around to the idea. I'm gonna make your dreams come true. I'm gonna--overpower your yearning hole. And you are gonna let me, aren't you?"
"Yes, Manpike."
"That's right!" Duke said, clapping his hand against my ass. "S'right."
He grasped the sides of my ass for support and leveraged his cock deep inside of me.
"Fuck!" I whimpered. "It's too much, Duke... It's too big."
"You asked for it," Duke growled, "so why don't you shut the fuck up already?"
"I didn't know—what I was in for."
"Well, now you do. Better get used to it."
I bit down and whined, my ass seeming to buzz around his scorching cock.
"God, you are tight. It feels real good, Holden. You wanna make me feel good, don't you?"
I had clenched my eyes shut, but I opened them slightly, craned my neck, and nodded.
He pulled on my ass, trying to make room, squeezing more of his cock inside bit by bit.
"Please--Manpike," I whispered, another tear coiling down my face.
"What?" he asked, breathing in my ear.
"Mercy."
"You need to learn," he said, nibbling. "You need to know."
I stole a glance at the mirror. Somehow, there was still a slab of his shaft to go. This was IMPOSSIBLE.
"You think you can't do it...but I'll make you do it. I'll make you take it."
He grabbed my shoulders, held me down, and wedged his cock as far as he could.
"You—are—my--BOYHOLE."
I couldn't breathe; I couldn't speak. I was consumed inside and out—he ensnared my body, my mind, my reality—even my dreams.
It had NEVER been like this.
He stretched so deep inside me, to places no one had ever been before--places people weren't meant to go.
I was helpless. My sore tunnel clenched vainly, unable to dissuade the invader in the least, egging it on instead.
"It's so close, boy—just a little bit more," Duke said.
"God," I breathed.
One more tear rolled down, but it wasn't from pain—not exactly.
He paused with his cock deep inside me and my hole clenching around it over and over.
This was it. Part of me thought I would die. The pain had been shocked away, and still, my body was in disarray. Sweat streamed all over my skin; my hair clumped in my face; my mouth hung half open. My body was on a spike, like people in the olden days, whose remains were displayed as warnings of what could go wrong. If a blade went ten inches deep inside a man, it would be the end, and it felt like the end now. It just wasn't possible. I was FULL of his cock, and yet I hadn't reached the hilt.
I softened in defeat, and a bit more of his cock slid inside. I could feel his balls resting on my skin as he wrapped his arms around me and breathed in my ear.
"That's it, boy. You did it. You fuckin' did it. It's all the way in. You are my full-on bitch. From the tip to the shaft to the balls."
Eventually, my ass muscles gave out and the resistance evaporated.
I went numb to the pain, and instead, I felt a deep, warm press prickle through me.
I resigned, moaning, and pushed my ass up a hair.
"Time for the fun to start," he said. "You want to get fucked into submission, don't you, Holden?"
I swiveled my head around, and nodded, just barely, with a hint of disbelief.
"Good boy," he said, his hands playing my ass like a drum again. "This is somethin' else."
"I want to make it better for you—than it's ever been."
"That's your job," Duke said, chewing on my neck.
I groaned.
He pulled a slab of his cock out of me—then crammed it back inside.
"AUH FUCK!"
"Shhh," he said.
I looked at him in the mirror and watched his bare body dance for the second time that night.
He pumped in and out of me, building a rhythm, not waiting for me physically, but rather, making me chase him. I wanted to be where he was—in the midst of it. But I was still sore, still so deeply stretched my body was stunned--overwhelmed.
"You look confused," Duke whispered. "Let me spell it out. You are my boyhole now—that's been your fate since the second you met me. You are my BITCH. You've been pining for it, whether you recognized it through your pride or not. It's high time I made use of you."
"Duke," I moaned softly, "You are abusing my little hole."
"It'll be gaping wide by the time I'm through with you."
I could feel his arms against me, flexing. My body seemed to melt as he slid in and out.
How did he do that to me?
I softened under him, blanketed by his sweat and smell.
The numb, strained portions of my ass seemed to come alive again, immune now. White-hot feeling coursed through me, and my eyes rolled back into the back of my head.
"Holy fu-uck," I whispered.
"Starting to feel good?" Duke asked, swiveling my head toward him.
I nodded, my mouth agape. I still couldn't find coherent words with him full inside me. There wasn't room for them.
"This is unbelievable," Duke said, grinding into me a little faster now. "Girls can't do what you are doing, you realize? They can't deep-throat me, of course, but they can't take me all the way up their pussies, either. I thought this would be fantastic—asses are much tighter than pussies—but less roomy, y'know? How the fuck does it fit?"
"You made it fit," I murmured.
"Yeah boy," he said, sucking my shoulder. "We made your bitch ass take it. You want to take cock like a sissy girl. Yet you have a guy's pain threshold, enough to get pounded by the span of my monster pike. That's what makes you special."
"Glad you like it," I breathed.
I didn't feel like I was chasing him anymore. My ass muscles relaxed—and pulled his cock deep inside.
"Aww yeah!" Duke said, drumming my ass with his palms, "That's right, BOYHOLE. Milk that cock!"
"Fuck," I growled, pushing my ass higher and higher.
"Looks like my boy is in heat now," Duke said, tightening his grip on my hair.
My hard dick strained, pinned between the bed and my abdominals.
He twisted my head into him and pressed it between his pectorals. I mingled with the sweat and warm skin there, soaking it in, as he pumped in and out of me.
"Yeah, you like my body, don't you boy? That's why you always spy on me through the hole in the wall, every morning and every night."
He dropped my head and it flopped back down to the pillow.
"Which reminds me," he added. "What the fuck did you put in there?"
Duke pulled a switchblade off his bedside, flipping it up. I felt the cool blade against my back, wiggling, but he just laughed. "It's not for you, bitch," he said. "Relax."
I watched through the mirror. Duke leaned back on his knees, the majority of his bulbous cock still buried inside me.
He chiseled at the hole in the wall, making dust fall on us. I sneezed, and the vibrations made my ass pang with soreness again.
"I wanted to do this days ago," Duke said. "I can't tell you how many times I wanted to end it. I wanted to carve this hole back out; I wanted to pin you down and fuck those lips when I walked by you in the halls. But I knew it would be more powerful this way—when I unlocked this new part of you, ready to explore somethin' new. Ready to let me guide you where you need to be. More than ready...desperate."
He finished carving, jabbing the sponge cylinder with his knife and pulling it out.
"What the fuck is this?" he asked, laughing.
"A sponge, I think," I breathed. "I got it from the bucket of things."
"Dude—what if it is for cleaning girl parts?" He couldn't stop laughing. Suddenly, he gathered himself. "You are never gonna deprive me again, do you understand?"
"Yes, Duke," I breathed.
He pushed the sponge against my lips.
"Stop! That's gross," I said.
He rubbed it against me. "Let me know you regret what you did. Kiss it."
My mouth wrinkled—then—I planted a soft kiss.
"Good boy," he said. Then, he jammed the sponge inside my mouth. The stale taste of glue and plaster made me cough, but he wouldn't let me spit it out.
My muffled protests amused him, as did my rebellious ass thrusts.
"That just feels good, bitch. Not sure what you are going for there."
I started moaning in spite of myself as his long, slow strokes stretched me.
I wanted to be mad, but I couldn't be. Not when I felt so fulfilled, plugged up both ends and forced to serve my brute of a go-go boy. The flashy number `1' coiled on his chest as he twisted; the sweat on the peaks of his abdominals caught the silver light's glare; shadows fell in the blank spaces, drawing in my gaze.
Sponginess clogged and rubbed my holes, making me tender, coaxing me to open wide and take it.
My eyes rolled and Duke rubbed my ears.
"Good boy," he said. "Take my cock."
With a cruel, protracted pulse, he pulled all the way out.
Then, he reversed course with equal sluggishness.
I tried to stay still but he made it difficult.
"You like that?"
I tried to say yes. I wanted to beg him to crush me harder, to slam me faster, but I couldn't speak.
I moaned, my ass twitching around his oddly comforting massage pole. I didn't know if it would ever feel like it wasn't too big, but it already felt like it belonged inside me anyway.
He dragged it out, savoring every smothering inch.
He retraced the road out of my ass, prolonging it, the contours of his surfaced cock prickling inside me. Then, the sustained motion coiled around, voyaging forward, reaming me, opening me from within.
"MMnn," I moaned, muffled, as he journeyed again, slightly faster, slightly rougher. He didn't just sweep out a path; he swept out a space, reforming me. I was a projection of him, a shadow of him.
"Yeah, boyhole; that feels sooo good."
Stretched to a perfect fit—so I could—barely—take him.
"God yeah—milk my cock, boy."
The mingling smell of Axe and musk ensnared me. I arched my ass up hard as he slammed down.
"This is what you live for."
I was so drunk off his body and his attitude that I lost the will to argue with anything he was saying. Not that I really could anyway.
He overpowered me, forcing my crotch into the bed, grinding around.
My hole stretched open, embracing his monster cock like an old friend, drawing it in, and holding it tightly in its clutches.
"Fuck," Duke said, his voice breaking a little.
I turned back toward him and bit my lip.
He growled, his fingers digging past my lips, gripping the spongy cylinder, and pulling it out.
I coughed up dust.
Duke tilted my head, making it crane so I was looking up at him.
"You are my personal FUCKHOLE."
"Yes, Duke," I croaked.
He gripped my ass, snarling.
Then, he went absolutely ballistic.
He hammered me with the full weight of his body; with the thorough force of his muscles; with the sheer power of his mind.
"Duke," I whimpered.
"It's Manpike now," he said, biting my ear.
"Duke—too much."
"Shut up," he said.
He stretched his arm and flexed around my mouth, my face stuck in the crook between his contracted biceps and forearm. I smacked my lips and licked at the tense fold.
At first I thought it was pain; then, I decided it was just sensory overload. I felt stretched and softened and beaten and caressed; I smelled Axe and sweat; I tasted traces of constructed grime mingling with the skin on my lips; I saw rapid motion glimmering in the mirror from the corner of my eye; I heard his breathing and slamming and growling.
I was overwhelmed.
"You can take it," Duke said, nuzzling against my back.
I pushed my ass up again as he thrust deeper and deeper and deeper.
He tightened his grip on my hair again, twisting me away from his other arm, making our eyes locked.
Mine bulged wide at his meticulous, knowing expression.
"You are about to cum, aren't you? You are about to cum, because I just made you my bitch."
I couldn't stop it. It was inevitable.
I flicked my ass up, into the air, impaling myself on his cock over and over as the sensation coursed through me, claiming every inch of me. I lost track of time and space; my senses blanched into whiteness.
Then, cum chased out of my dick, one charge after another, making my body clench and my energy shrivel.
"Fuck yeah," Duke said. He followed it with a low moan as he pounded my weak hole.
Before I was even done cumming, Duke started.
Each pulse stretched my ass wider; his cock was as big as ever inside me. In this overcome state, I knew he could make me do whatever he wanted. I was feeble in his hands. Cum flowed inside me in rhythm, one beat after another, and my asshole tightened around his cock like a suction cup, locking his essence deep within.
I twisted my head back, and he let me slurp on his neck.
"Good boy," he whispered, stroking my hair.
Then, he pulled out of me one inch at a time.
I felt wobbly, like a building with a support column cut out.
I closed my eyes and collapsed, letting my senses fade out again. My mind wandered back to the warehouse club, where the people cheered, and Duke danced, standing above me, his muscles glimmering with sweat.
My thoughts went foggy, settling on lampposts and fireflies.
I felt Duke curl around me. Then my mind seemed to float—far, far into the sky.
--- AMPHALOS---
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