Sick graphical stuff ahead, faint of heart or weak of mind best turn back. The usual disclaimer stuff applies: be of age, read at your own risk, can't sue me for it, no reproduction, blah blah.
This is my first (fully developed) story. Everything is out of my head, thus fictional, except the main character. I was inspired to finally flesh out my own fantasies after reading (among others) NiteSearcher2000's recent stories, so kudos to him. Compared to his, this story is merely my best flattery, aka cheap imitation. But all the ideas are really my own.
Other than personal thought archiving, I write this for feedbacks like dogs do tricks for treats. So please please let me know what you think at dafiishman@hotmail.com. Anything goes; praises for my ego, flames for me the masochist, or better yet constructive criticisms for improving skills. Suggestions welcomed too. Wouldn't be adverse to propositions either :p.
~ One ~
It was early evening on a Wednesday when I rode up to the city. I've been checking out used cars on the local classifieds, and scoped out this great deal. The owner is apparently a young college guy really into fixing cars, I figured I can get a car in decent condition for cheap.
It was still light out when I pulled up to the house, the power of winter waning. It was a small, fairly old house, detached from the neighbors, with an odd driveway that went around the side and disappeared to the back. The guy that answered the door was freaking hot! Tall, medium long dirty blond hair, blue eyes with a piercing gaze. He was dressed in a tight tank top, slightly moist, and short shorts, as if he just came back from some sports. I realized I was staring just a tad too long, and quickly averted my eyes. Not seeming to notice he led me in.
The doorway opened to a kitchen on the right and a large living room to the left, messy but with a well-lived look. Chad introduced himself and shook my hand. His hand was very warm, probably from his working out, and large, completely enveloping mine. His grip was firm, and just when I thought the handshake was getting too long, he gave a quick hard squeeze which cracked my knuckles and made me wince just a little; I thought I saw a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. A long awkward moment followed when I pretended to be looking around the place, somehow feeling his eyes upon me, studying me. Finally I said, trying to look nonchalant, "so um, you gonna show me the car?" Wordlessly, he nodded with his head and turned down the hall. Immediately my eyes were drawn to his round muscular butt, encased snuggly in the smooth shorts, his long legs dusted with faint golden fuzz. Shaking my head as if from reveries, I followed Chad out of the house to his garage.
The two-car garage was a shamble. There were things everywhere, tools stacked upon tools. It occurred to me that some items looked strange and suspiciously out of place. But before I could dwell on that, my attention was magnetized to the guy working on a car to one side. If Chad was the quintessential cocky white jock boy, Van, as he was soon to introduce himself, is the ultimate skater punk. Slightly taller than me, lanky, short pitch-black hair spiked every which way, with that cool whatever attitude. Being asian, likely vietnamese, he almost looked fresh out of highschool, unbelievably hot, and smooth, as he stood in front of me bare-chested, holding out his hand.
There was no testy squeeze in this handshake; he just nodded and eyed me with a cool thugboy-like air of detachment. Only after we broke off did I noticed his hands, and now mine, were dirty with car grease. I felt like I should say something, but another look at him made me feel silly for wanting to bring that up. I looked around for something to wipe my hand with, but all the while distracted by his naked lean torso, sculpted, radiating heat that washed over me from 3 feet away. His abs were perfectly trimmed, long and tapering, ridged with definition. Below he had on a pair of faded army pants, and topped off with a pair of black 14-hole combat boots. Fuck I could've creamed my pants just staring at those boots alone. A lot of time seemed to have passed before he noticed my hand and tossed me some dirty old rag. "Here, you can wipe off on this. Chad's gonna show you the car outside." Dumbly I stepped out of the garage, for the first time noticing the car I came to see.
I circled around the car listening to Chad describing various things, without actually hearing, or seeing. Finally he turned to me and laughed, "You really getting off on that underwear can you?" I stopped my absent-minded hand-wiping and saw that it was indeed a worn pair of boxer shorts I was holding, spotted with black grease but I could still make out a few conspicuous holes, and the yellowish stain demarcating the crotch area. "What the F!" Quickly tossing it aside, I feigned disgust but blushed deeply nevertheless. Chad laughed again, "That's Van's. If you really like it he can make you a new pair." "Whatever, dude." I managed an awkward laugh, but couldn't help but steal another glance at Van. He was leaning against a work table, taking drags from a joint, barely a chuckle on his face, looking so fucking cool. I felt my groins tighten at the thought of him in that dirty underwear, the front crusty and stained with his excretions. Bending down to check the underside of the car, I secretly sniffed my hand, disappointed that there was only the inorganic smell of car grease.
"So what do you think?" Chad said behind me. "It's nice. It's beautiful actually, especially for its age." I stood up and turned around. "Pretty hot huh. We worked long and hard on it." He stepped closer towards me, standing almost unnaturally close. His scent wafted into my senses, a faint mixture of sweat and musk and a certain boyish odor, masculine, potent. I gulped, feeling his presence looming large, the same uneasiness settling over me again, and the familiar tightness throbbing again in my pants . "Um yah, it really shows." I muttered, backing up clumsily into the car. "It's uh, nice." I kicked myself silently for my stupid comments. There's something about these guys that just makes me lose control, mind and body. With a perky grin Chad bored his eyes into my face, then swept downwards with a lingering look then back up. I felt my cheeks heat up, hoping against hope that my pants isn't bulging out too obscenely.
Chad opened the car door and motioned me inside. "Check out the interiors. I'll be right back." He went over to chat with Van, both of them looking in my general direction. I eyed them discreetly, unable to make up my mind which one was hotter. They nodded to each other and swaggered over to the car. Sticking his head through the driver side window, Chad's eyes was dangerously in-line with my crotch. I shifted nervously. Damn the tightness of my leather motorcycle pants. "So you want to take this baby for a spin?" Van asked from the passenger side. "Um yah, sure.. can I?" "No problem, but we gotta hold your driver's license or something. Can't be too careful these days." Chad chimed in. I guessed that was reasonable, so I took out my wallet, rummaging through it to find something suitable. Chad quickly snatched it out of my hand. "Cool wallet." He remarked. I opened my mouth to complain but he shot me a side long look that made me swallow hard. All I could get out was a weak "thanks." "Aight I'll hold on to this. Van'll take you for a ride." I watched as he walked back to the garage, shuffling through all my id's and cards, but as the half-naked Van got into the car, I found it difficult to protest.
Van took me to circle the neighborhood a few times. I managed to keep my eyes on the road, mostly, until Van started grabbing his crotch. At first it was like just innocent straight-boy-crotch-adjusting kind of movement. Then it got more pronounced and frequent. My will melted as my eyes darted to and from his pants. On the last turn back, he slouched forward on the seat and spread his legs, almost openly massaging the front of his loose army pants, while looking out the window like nothing's happening. His dick head clearly visible through the material, half hard. I was transfixed. Suddenly he turned to me, "The fuck you looking at punk. You want some of this?" he squeezed and shook his sizeable bulge at me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was screaming to myself the direness of the situation, but the rest of my head was permeated with the raw sexuality Van exuded, and twenty elephants couldn't have tore my eyes away from his crotch at that moment.
But a violent jolt of the car did. In my daze I had let the car veer to the right, jumping the curb and scraping against a small tree right outside Van's house. "Shit shit shit!" I slammed the breaks and turned the steering leftwards. We both jumped out the car. The damage wasn't much, as I was already slowing down, some scratched paint and a few dents. Nevertheless I was mortified and tried to tell him I'll pay for the damage. Van turned around with a frightfully stern in his face. "I spent weeks restoring this car. I let you have it for 5 minutes and you fucking drive it up a tree! Oh you gonna pay alright. You piece of shit I'm gonna make you pay good!"
With no time to phrase a proper response to his over-reaction, Van shoved me hard against the tree, then pulled me off and slammed me face first onto the hood of the car. Before the heat of the car had time to settle in, he hooked his right elbow around my neck and heaved me off. "You are not getting outta this one easy. I'm gonna deal with you inside!" I clawed at his arm as he dragged me across the sidewalk and towards the back of his garage, but he quickly threw me off my balance. Locked in his muscular arm in that helpless position, I felt a pang of fear, and strangely, arousal.
In the garage, Chad sat calmly on a work table, smoking what was probably the same joint that dangled from Van's lips before, not seemingly surprised at all to see me dragged in like that. Van grabbed his right hand with his left, tightening his hold on my neck, squeezing the air from my neck. "Dude you were right on with this faggot. I set the trap and he totally fell for it. Couldn't stop drooling over my dick he fucken wrecked our car." Inside, I was vehemently protesting the use of the word "wrecked", but found it hard to voice my view, headlocked and choking in the triangle of Van's arm. "Told you so bro." Chad swung himself off from the table. "Got the little queer shit pinned soon as he came in and couldn't stop ogling me."
Unceremoniously, Van let go of his arm and dropped me like a sack. They both snickered as I hit the ground with a "umph", knocking out what little air was in me. Hard tools strewn on the floor dug into my back. I laid there panting and dizzy, blood rushing back into my head. Chad stepped in front of me, his worn sneakers inches away from my face. I swear right then I smelt the rank of his feet, wafting up like aphrodisiac. It was sweet, sweaty, and organic, ripe but not a days-old stench. Instantly I started to get hard again.
Grabbing a fist full of my hair Chad jerked my head up, "So that was all the ruckus back there, Van here tells me you wrecked our car. Is that right?" Behind his cool tone, I sensed the trap, and wondered if it was too late to dig myself out. But regardless I had to answer. "No its just a scratch, I swear. Its just outside you can see for yourself. I'll, I'll pay for the damage, I promise. Its nothing, really! I was going slow!"
"Bull shit!" Van said standing to my side. Then I felt the first of his wrath. His army boot exploded into the left side of my ribcage, the steeled toe that I always thought so sexy now crushing my bones with pain I never thought possible. Stars swirled around my eyes, my body convulsed. Legs curled up and hands holding my left side, my mouth gaped and shut silently like a fish out of water. Chad chuckled, still holding on tightly to my hair. "Well you say you're willing to pay. Then I guess this is collection time." Van said amusedly. His boot found my right side next, exposed, my arms busy protecting the left. The heavy tip sunk deep right below my ribs, where its most soft and vulnerable. This time my voice returned and I screamed. My back arched up then collapsed down, my arms folded around, head still gripped in Chad's hand, rolling from side to side unable to decide which was less painful. I screamed in broken words, "Oh fuck... god... please..."
"How you liking these boots? I noticed you couldn't take your eyes off them before." Van kept talking, circling me slowly. "I thought you'd like to get a bit more acquainted with them." He took aim and the next kick landed on my upper right arm, instantly dropping it to the floor. Sharp ripples of pain drilled down to my bone, sawing through it. Numbness overwhelmed my whole right side, as if the arm was chopped off. I sucked in air in short choking breaths, my eyes squeezed tightly shut. Van laughed with obvious satisfaction. Standing by my head, Van rested his boot on my left cheek, and slowly pressed down. Panicking, I started to beg.
"Please man, I'm sorry about the car. I'll get it fixed, new paint, body work, whatever. I'm sorry! Oh fuck please, it hurts!" The pressure increased still. I could begin to make out the grooves of treads on the boot bottom. I saw Chad bend down to face me, his blue eyes twinkling with devilish excitement. "Silly boy, its not even about the car. I'm sure it was just harmless scratch." The boot was slightly lifted, then pushed down hard. "Ok then what! What did I do!" I knew the answer of course, I knew I should've controlled myself better before. They didn't respond. The boot pressure increased still. "Ok, alright, I'm sorry if I was checking you guys out before. I didn't mean anything, I was just... I'm sorry!" I winced as much as my face could contort. "So you admit you're a faggot perv then." Chad shifted into a half kneel, still holding my gaze, looking like he's got all the patience in the world. But for me time felt like it's ticking down fast. "Yes ok, fine! I'm a fag, alright? Please, just let go." I replied. "And you were totally digging my friends Van here?" "Yes, yes, whatever, come on let up please!" I was willing to say whatever he wanted at this point. Van's foot started to grind my face, grains of grit and dirt on the rough floor sanding my other cheek. "And didn't you pop wood rubbing your hand in Van's dirty underwear? And you were probably drooling dicksnot just staring at Van's crotch in the car?" The interrogation continued. My arm and my sides were throbbing with hot pains now, my cheek bones feeling like they were ready to snap, soon my mouth would be too squished to even speak. I thought I should just tell them what they want to hear.
"Yes, yes, I did all that. I'm sorry, I'm a fucking sick pervert alright. I'm a worthless fag. Please, please stop." That did the trick. Van's boot came off my face, just as Chad's hand went back on my hair. "I betcha been dying to taste that nasty rag huh? Swipe your tongue over that yellow stained crotch? Well here ya go." Tilting my head back, Chad rubbed the soiled underwear on my face and started to stuff it into my mouth. Truthfully, I was disgusted with it. The smell of motor oil wasn't what I'd consider a turn-on. Using my left hand, I tried to push Chad away, turning my head to the side and sealing my mouth shut. Van's boot stuck out again, stomping on my left arm so hard my entire body twisted around. Jerking my head back as far as it would go, Chad forced my mouth open and shoved the underwear in. My stomach kicked into automatic revulsion as I heaved into my new gag.
"Suck on that good fagboy. And don't spit it out now, after I was so nice to find it for you from off the ground." Chad warned in that irritatingly nonchalant tone. My mind had hardly the capacity to consider his words, still in shock with the sudden pains Van inflicted. So as soon as my tongue tasted the bitter motor oil on the rag, I wretched it out, coughing and spitting. "Wrong move shitface. What did I just say huh?" Chad thrust my face into the dirty underwear and held it there. "I think the lil faggot here needs a good lesson in obedience, dont you think." Van interceded. Reaching around me, with a soft whoosh he un-looped the belt off my leather pants and handed it to Chad.
Again I felt the pressure of a foot on my head. This time it was Chad's sneaker, pinning me down against the underwear rag, leaving his hands free. When I felt the cold leather tighten around my neck, it finally occurred to me what he was planning. Just as quickly though, he took off the belt. With my face planted on the floor I could only see Van's boots strutting over to a work table. Chad leaned back on my body to ensure my immobility, a wholly unnecessary move as my arms and torso were still racked with pain and spasms. Van tinkered with some tools and soon the sound of a power drill could be heard, then he came back to us. Again the belt went around my neck, this time Chad buckled it in. They were drilling holes on my belt to fit my neck!
I squirmed around in protest, yelling unintelligibly into the dirty underwear. But another sharp kick from Van settled me down with new pains. It hurt so much my mind just blanked out. Another hole was drilled before Chad was satisfied with the snugness. Lifting his weight from me, he yanked up on the belt savagely. My body jerked to follow his lead, my neck feeling like it was going to snap in two. I couldn't scream for the lack of air. Chad laughed out loud, and took a few steps and yanked again. The bastard thought it was funny. My head spun from the combination of asphyxiation and lack of circulation, and my inability to comprehend the situation. How did I go from checking out a used car, less than half an hour ago, to this: kicked, humiliated, slung around a dirty garage like a dog, nearly complete strangers choking the life out of me with my own belt. Miraculously, picturing the scene in my head made my own dick jump.
But my position allowed little chance for pondering. Chad was having too much fun with me, colliding me against the table legs, crashing me into piles of tools, and I couldn't let out anything more than a wheezing gasp from my throat. "Crawl bitch, crawl like the worthless dog you are." Chad hooted. My mind objected instinctively, holding on to my pride. My body wouldn't have complied well even if I willed it too; it laid motionless on the floor. "Looks like he's not a fast learner here.. I think he needs some more incentives." Chad turned to Van, who played right along, "well let me see what I can do about that."
And I got reacquainted once again with their footwear. Chad pressed one sneakered foot against my neck and pulled my makeshift leash taut, holding my head in place. Then Van laid into me viciously. He must've been a kick boxer or a karate black belt, I didn't know. All I knew was the boots connected hard and fast, first in my soft belly, then my thigh, my shins, my calves, up my ass and back to my midsection. Excruciating pain enveloped me, until my eyes saw pitch black and my ears roared with ringing, a metallic taste on my tongue as if Van stuck his steel toe in my mouth. I jerked and rolled around pathetically, my neck held fixed, unable to escape the raining blows.
In reality Van probably didn't go on for very long or kicked me as hard as the first three times, but all the same it was more pain than my mind can comprehend and I was way past ready to surrender. "I'll do it, I'll do it.. please I'm sorry.. I'll do whatever you say." I got on all fours as best as I could, choking back a sob. Another kick to my ribcage knocked me down good. I struggled back up again, willing my arms not to give out, not wanting to wimp out in front of them. "Now that wasn't so hard was it? You just had to make things worse for yourself. You asked for that." Van gave me a few more soft kicks, and finally another boot to my ass to collapse me to the floor.
Getting back up again, I was led around the garage in circles like in some dog show, Chad giving me random orders to add to my humiliation. Van sat on a table and dished out kicks whenever my circuit went around to him. "Faster, faster!" he would yell. Quickly my limbs went to jelly, the injuries from earlier did not help. Every time I wobble and fall over, it gave Chad another excuse to yank hard on my belt, dragging me up choking and sputtering. Luckily, they soon grew tired of this activity. With one last kick, Chad let go of my leash and shoved me down on top of a half open tool box. Prying at my belt collar, I couldn't get it off but was at least able to give myself enough room to breathe. And breathe I did, relaxing my aching body, grateful for the few moments of respite from their torture.
Chad and Van slowly walked over to me. There were no menace in their gesture; their faces looked calm and cool as if nothing has happened, but I could see fire in their eyes, a look of exhilaration. I struggled to back away. Feeling a wall behind me I tentatively stood up against it. They came to stand in front of me, Chad reached one hand out and grasped my neck. Dread and panic welled up again, I pleaded with them, "please, guys, I've learned my lesson. Please no more, ok?" I saw Van's face break into a grin as he slammed his left fist into my belly, followed closely by his right. There was no surprise element there as with the first boot kick, this was slow and deliberate, but the pain was no less intense.
I couldn't double over, with Chad doing a good job pinning me to the wall, so the best I could do was cover my front with my arms, and raise my knee up. That exposed my arms as targets, and proved to be little protection against their onslaught anyway. Three arms sent a flurry of punches and jabs into every part of me, abs, belly, chest, forearms, biceps. They tried to concentrate on my soft midsection, and they definitely liked to hit the sides of my torso, but they were indiscriminate, just landing blows where ever they can. Left hooks followed upper cuts, short quick jabs combined with hard slams. They used me expertly as a punching bag.
After a while, Chad used his other hand to grab my chin, holding my head up, his eyes piercing into mine. He watched as Van continued to hammer me. The pained contortions on my face, my desperate pleading looks, feeding the flames of lust in his eyes.
Finally they stopped and let go, and I collapsed into a heap on the floor, holding myself as if my innards were about to fall out, my organs doing a shuffling dance. I shut my eyes to hold in the tears, but hear myself sob involuntarily. Chad went behind me and picked me up off the floor, hugging me tightly. His face nestling beside mine, he whispered hoarsely into my ears. "Now now, don't be scared my little queerboy. We've hurt you bad haven't we? Yah we hurt you bad." His words tender and sexy, his arms wrapped around me, my body quickly tensed and I felt arousal return to my loins. What was wrong with me?! They were beating the living day lights out of me, and I was getting turned on!
I can't think, but I could smell him again, even closer this time, that heady mixture of sweat and manliness. My breaths quickened. "You know why we do this? Do you know why?" He gave a pause, I said nothing knowing the question was rhetorical. Lowering his voice even more, Chad said "Coz we like it. We like fucking up little faggot shits like you." His arms tucked around mine and pulled them back swiftly, squeezing them together. His teeth snapped down hard on my ear.
"Argh!" I screamed, bending forward trying to escape his feral attack. He chomped my earlobe, grinding them between his teeth. The pain was intertwined with pleasure, shooting down from my ear straight to my dick. In my bent posture, I felt a steel-hard protrusion poking my butt. Chad was hard. Chad was pitching tent in that tight little shorts of his. Chad boned up from beating the shit out of me. My head swooned with the implication, unsure if I should be more frightened of him, or feel proud that I aroused him. But my dick was sure liking it.
Using only one arm to hold my arms back, his other hand found his favorite spot, my hair, and executed his favorite move again, jerking my head painfully back. "Yah, see how much I like making you suffer? See how much I like watching you choke, and twitch, and beg and cry?" He ground his crotch into my butt, his turgid meattube rubbing up and down my crack, its heat coming through even the leather pants. He switched position and pressed his mouth against my other ear and continued softly, sexily, "So what do you say huh, you gonna suffer some more for me? Gonna get me off some more?" My defense weakening, I almost said yes.
But of course, that question was also rhetoric. Just as I was beginning to lose myself in this odd tender moment, Chad clamped down with his teeth again, harder this time, his sharp canines pinning my soft earlobe from both sides, his molars grinding on the upper part. Simultaneously, I felt Van's fist connect with my belly once more, pressing out all the air in my lungs. I squirmed and jerked, whimpering with despair, unable to break free of Chad's hold. They worked in concert with each other, sometimes both attacking at once, sometimes one right after the other, constantly switching up the rhythm so I couldn't prepare myself for the next hit.
No longer able to hold myself up, my legs gave way and I sank to my knees, only Chad's grip on my head holding me upright. I blubbered out words of plea without any thought, just wanting their assault to end. I have tried to hold back my sobs, to retain whatever dignity I had left. But now as pain assailed my body from every which way, one moment red hot, next moment deep and dulled, tears rolled down my face uncontrollably. What's more, as I sat there beaten and broken, my dick was hard as ever, precum slicking the front of my underwear. Even knowing this was partially from Chad's manipulations, I nevertheless felt confusion and shame.
It took me a while to finally calm down and register that the beating has indeed stopped. As I piped down, an uneasy quiet settled over the garage, punctuated only by three sets of heavy breathing. I looked up at Van standing inches from my limp body, his eyes lit by lust, boring into mine. A thin layer of sweat glistened upon his half naked body; his handsome nose tipped with beads of perspiration, I could almost forget how he just brutalized me. But when he merely brought his hands up to my head I cringed in reflex, fear now well instilled within me.
Instead of a whack or slap, he rubbed my bruised ears gently, then grabbed the side of my head and pulled me steadily towards him, pressing me upon the massive tent in his army pants that I somehow just now took notice. Everything suddenly went into slow motion, as his crotch expanded until it filled my vision, his pillar of flesh concealed by the thin layer of cloth, like a mast stretching out its sails, looming closer towards me. Then, contact, my face pressed hard up again Van's rock solid dick, feeling it throb violently inside the rough pants, its heat burning through my skin. His scent overwhelmed my sense, at once fresh and steamy, musky, sweet, and rank. He smelt ripely of sperm, and of power. I knew that moment would be imprinted upon my memory for a long time to come.
As much as my head buzzed with the desire to take Van's manhood within me, my remaining pride, the last shred of which that hasn't been beaten out of me, told me no. Resisting Van's guiding hands, I pulled my head back away, feigning my best look of disgust. His gentle pulling quickly turned into a vicious thwack, loosening Chad's grip on my hair, knocking me over. "I'm in no mood for your little shit, cuntlips!" Van barked down at me. "You want some more pain? Well I'll give you more!" He bent down and grabbed the belt that was still buckled to my neck. Coiling the loose end around his hand several times until only an inch was left between my neck and his grip, he pulled me back up. Whack! Whack! He laid two more slap on my cheeks, sending stars flying around my eyes. Holding my leash tight, he continued to bitchslap me, fast and furious. Quickly I was sorry for my little act of resistance, but he gave me no chance to speak.
Finally Van stopped, and thrusted his crotch forward once again into my face. Through the ringing of my ears, I thought I heard him moan while roughly grinding the fabric and zipper all over my face. Though my cheeks stung and burned tremendously from the slapping, the intense heat of his dick was still unmistakable. He pulled away momentarily and brought his face down against mine, pulling up on my leash to choke me more. He stared at me intently, his free hand clutched in a tight fist, his arm bulging with cords of muscle, his lips curled into a cruel sneer, the lust in his eyes mingled with a gleam of power; he challenged me with his look alone, challenged me to defy him again. Lowering my eyes in front of this godly specimen of masculinity, I silently admitted defeat. Every part of my body throbbed with the pain he inflicted, every breath I take he controlled in his hand, my face burned with memories of his fingers and knuckles, and burned more with the humiliation of my weakness. I knew then the futility of my resistance; I knew then what I needed to say in appeasement.
"Please Van, I give! I give. I've had enough pain. Please don't beat me anymore. I'll do your bidding, I'll do whatever you say, whatever you want. I... I, submit." My voice trembled with fear and with shame. "Oh FUCK yea!" cried a voice to my left. Turning my head, I was shocked to see Chad had his dick tucked out from the leg of his shorts, leaning lazily against the wall, his hands pumping with deliberation. Precum glistened all over his huge eight-incher, dripping copiously down his balls and onto the floor. His eyes burned into mine, and my dick throbbed at the sight of his. Chad hadn't hit me as much as Van, and now its clear his fixations lie elsewhere. He loved better to see his friend beat me to a pulp, to witness my pain and suffering, to watch me on my knees begging for mercy. "Yah Van, subdue him, make the faggot beg, turn the little bitch out!" Chad egged his friend on, never taking his gaze off me.
Van grinned as he looked as his friend, only too happy to oblige. "You hear that dickbreath? Keep begging, beg me not to hurt you." Releasing the belt, he used the Chad-hold on my hair and started to bitch slap me, not so hard this time, but solidly and steadily. I had no more fight left in me. Whatever they wanted, I was willing to give. So beg I did. My brain went into automatic mode, conjuring up the most pathetic words of supplication to appease them, without any active thought processing, so I wouldn't feel the shame.
I didn't know how long this went on, but eventually the slapping stopped and Van dragged me over a few feet to kneel by the wall, before Chad , my face brought within a hair's length of his engorged cock. Pushing on the back of my head, Van rubbed my face all around on Chad's thick member, smearing precum over every inch. My forehead smothered in the nylon shorts, now even more slick with the excretion, its smell intoxicating me. I clamped my lips tightly together, fighting the overwhelming urge to lick the smooth underside of Chad's throbbing hardon, to savor his slimy precum. "Yah bitch's face is nice and hot." Chad moaned. Taking the root of his heavy dick, he clubbed my face repeatedly, enjoying my involuntary jerking.
"Open up, dickface." Van commanded. At once I longed and dreaded this inevitable moment; the faggot in me burned with desire for this gorgeous specimen of manhood, but when I do open up for them, I would sink to another low, lose my last shred of dignity. However I've learned by this point how little good resistance would do me, so I parted my lips hesitantly, obediently.
Like some solemn royal march, Chad's entered me in a slow procession of inches. All my thoughts of pride and shame went out the window as soon as my tongue came into contact with his massive head; his shaft slid along my mouth like a column of solid fiery marble; his precum coated my taste buds like sweet nectar. Forgetting the thumping pain along my body that was caused moments ago by the owner of this cock, I stifled a loud moan as I sucked down Chad's magnificent meat, my own dick aching in its state of full mast. Van laughed behind me, "Listen to this pathetic fag. Soon as you plug his pussy mouth he is moaning and groaning for your dick. Comeon open those faglips and take my buddy's tubesnake. Fuck yah!"
Of course, they weren't going to let me suck dick in peace. Soon Chad got impatient with the pace and started to pump his hips. Van was right there to help him along. "Play time's over bitch. Get ready for some real skull fucking." His hand shoved hard on the back of my head to meet the forward motion of Chad's thrusting cock; it jammed painfully against my throat, forcing entry into my air pipe. I pushed my hand weakly against the muscled mass of Chad's thighs, panic setting in. They backed off in unison, then struck again before I had chance to take a deep breath. My throat gurgled and choked, the muscles twitching, unable to hold out long against Chad's ramrod. Strings of spit and precum dribbled off my lower lip as they battered down my defense. Tilting my head back and with one last shove, Chad solidly parked his massive log in my throat, his soft golden pubes pushing up my nose as his eyes met mine. The sneer of pleasure and lust in his face was clear even through my tear blurred vision. It was no surprise to me by then how much Chad enjoyed to choke my lights out; he has been finding all sorts of novel ways to do that.
He watched my eyes with glee as I struggle harder and harder for air, my throat muscles contracting violently, helplessly massaging his meattube. Squinting back unbidden tears, I pleaded with him with my best puppy look, knowing very well that the effort would be in vain, and more likely it would just add to his pleasure. Chad finally withdrew his rock hard weapon when he saw me starting to black out, my eyes rolling back into my head. I coughed and sputtered, sucking greedily at the fresh air. Chad's fucktube looked even more massive now, pulsing slowly before me with an angry hue of crimson, casting down strings of precum onto my upturned face. Beating his log on my face a few more times, he thrust it back down my throat in one swift motion, with Van's helping hands prying down my chin, ensuring my mouth was stretched as wide as possible.
Again Chad held his dick stationary, letting the contraction of my muscles work his length. His eyes drank in my panic and fear. Stars again circled my vision, as I knelt there helplessly impaled, waiting the onset of another blackout. Out, and back in, out, then in more. Each time he held his dick in place a little longer. Reaching around, Van rubbed the front of my neck, feeling the obscene bulge that was Chad's long, thick fuckrod. "Dude you've got the faggot stretched wide! Holy shit I can almost feel the veins on your shaft! Yah choke the FUCK out of him bud. Choke the worthless scumbag out!" Always trying to add to my pain, Van squeezed my neck hard around Chad's dick, pinching my muscles to massage him from the outside.
The dynamic duo repeated this over and over, giving me less and less time to breath in between each assault, pushing me farther and farther into blackout each time. Van replaced his hands with his crotch, grinding into the back of my head as his buddy ground into my throat. I was delirious with the lack of air. My arms pounded against Chad's thighs with increasing feebleness. My senses all fucked up, I had images of Van's dick poking through my skull and fusing as one with Chad's, sawing my head back and forth in one continuous skullfuck.
Just as I was sure they were going to kill me, Chad pulled out and stepped back, panting heavily, straining obviously not to cum. "The fucker got me close dude." Chad said, watching me wretch and gasp, abased before him. Grabbing my hair once again, Chad twisted me around to face Van. "Time to service my buddy here. Time to take care of his fuckrod, get on it you whore!" Again with a lot of violent shoving and rubbing, I was reacquainted with Van's crotch. His dick was even harder now, a huge spot of wetness covered the front of his pants. Fearful of more wrath and eager to please, I got to work, slobbering and gnawing, the fatigue fabric rough against my tongue. When Van opened his zippers I was glad to finally taste him in flesh.
His dick was smaller, about 7 inches, pointing straight up to the ceiling, his mushroom head flared obscenely huge. I plunged down on it before I had to be told, trying my best to take it all the way in, hoping that would please him and avoid myself more painful ministration. Chad mistook, at least partially, my enthusiasm for insatiableness. "Look at the shitface go. He can't get enough of dick! Fucking faggot whores are all alike." With no capability to object, I continued to work Van's cock, wanting to bring him off quickly.
But it would've been foolish of me to think he'd let me have my way. Taking hold of my ear, he pushed me back till I was flat against the wall, then shoved his dick into me hard. My throat muscles still weak from being stretched by Chad, I deepthroated him easily. As his black pubes tickled my nose, I again became keenly aware of his scent, so raw and pungent, similar to Chad's yet so different. But unlike Chad, Van wasn't content to just stuff his rod in my airway, to watch me struggle and choke. He wanted more control, and of course, more pain.
Van spread his legs out to lower his hips and steady his stance. Positioned for best leverage, he withdrew his meat pole only to jammed it back in right away, his huge head tearing into my mouth. He face-fucked me with a vengeance. Defenseless against his powers, my head banged against the garage wall as he pounded into my throat deep and hard, grunting and swearing. "Take it bitch, take it! Take my fuckpole yah, feel that tear your throat up. Gonna drill you a new hole back here you worthless faggot shit! Uh yah how you like this!" The only reply out of me were breathless whimpers of pain. I heard Chad chime in from the side, "Hell yah bud, pound the pussy mouth. Throat-rape the piece of shit!"
Pain quickly permeated my head; my throat raw from the repeated brutal entries, my nose slammed by his hip bone, my jaws cramping ceaselessly, and my head smashed the wall with every violent jab. There was no chance to beg for mercy, no way to plead with looks. This was not a blowjob, this was Van taking me for himself, making me his property, using me to his whim. This was Van controlling my every breath, asserting his power absolute.
I don't know how I managed to breathe around his rampaging cock, I don't know how I didn't pass out from all the pain. All my senses, my whole being, were concentrated on only one thing, Van's dick plunging in and out. Then I felt him step aside, breathing as if he just finished a morning run. "Chad c'mere and try this pussy mouth. This is good fucking shit." Swinging his legs over me Chad took Van's place, jackhammering my throat this time instead of deep diving. And I took his pounding too, helpless to change my fate.
In a little while, Chad pulled back and Van resumed his oral assault with hardly a break in the rhythm, the two of them working in perfect synch. When he next pulled off, he roared furiously, twisting my head this way and that, tossing off my balance then slamming his boot into my belly, as if fucking my face unleashed some nameless anger within him. I curled up on the ground as he renewed my pains, screaming silently to myself that I've done nothing this time. Chad joined in too, kicking his sneakers into me with equal fervor. Thankfully this time they didn't go on for long.
Chad spat in my face as he pulled me back up against the wall. "God you are so fucking low, letting us pound you like that, raping your mouth and beating you shitless. You fucking miserable faggot scum!" His words pierced me deep. Sobbing, I was just about to point out how hopeless outnumbered and out-powered I was, when I felt his foot stomping down on my crotch.
And I was hard. I had scantily the time to notice that throughout my latest ordeal, but with the sole of his sneakers rolling painfully on my dick shaft, I realized just how fucking aroused I was. His touch right there was almost enough to send me over the edge. Instead of words of self-defense, all that came out of me was a raspy moan of pleasure. I WAS fucking low.
They both scoffed at my pathetic show of arousal. "Well I'll be damned!" Van exclaimed. "The sick fuck actually got off on all that shit!" He kicked me hard again on my thigh for emphasis. "Yah he liked it alright, this faggot perv's probably craving more beating, more pain, more rape-age." Chad's foot changed from rubbing to grinding, mashing hard down on my balls. I screamed with the new pain. "No please! I didn't get off on it! Please no more!" "Dicks dont lie, not even your worthless wimp dick. And its crying out for more." I hadn't time to think what their rock hard bouncing dicks are saying about them, when Van pulled me back onto his pole and resumed the facefucking.
Chad came to stand side by side with Van, hooking his arm around Van's shoulders, their hips touching. Soon I had both their cocks crammed in my mouth, poking and prodding with the same savagery as before, battling for space inside my oral cavity. At least that meant my throat got a break. My lips stretched desperately to accommodate both of their girth, spit and dicksnot slobbering down my chin. As their dicks settled down into a steady rhythm, so did their hands, one on each side of my head, slapping me in synch with their fucking. By chance I stole a glance upwards. Chad's face was buried in Van's, their lips intricately locked, frenching each other with heated urgency. I felt a jet of precum shoot out of my dick.
Their tender moment lasted all too short when they turned their attention back to me. Pulling out and squatting down beside me, Van cruelly impaled my face again on Chad's fuckpole, holding it there just how Chad liked it. "Come on you dirty fuck, get him off. My bud here needs to seed your belly bad." Chad took over Van's hand on the back of my head to meet the thrusts of his hips. Choking my neck with both hands this time, Van resumed the massaging of Chad's long meattube. "Yah come on Chad, I can feel your anaconda in the fag's throat, I can feel its every pulse. Fucking blow his throat open dude, puncture him with your jizz! I wanna feel you cream the fag good."
Van's words must've sent Chad over the edge, as I felt his dick expand and lengthen incredulously, his cumtube throbbing violently against my tongue as his sperm spewed out straight down to my stomach. "Yah, oh fucking god yah!" He screamed, then moaned and screamed some more, "uh, mmmh, arh! You sick fucking shit take my sperm!" He yanked his fuckrod out in one jerk, pulling all my muscle linings out with him, and held it in front of my face. More cum came spurting out, splashing audibly against my forehead, my nose, plastering my whole face. The pungent acridity of his dickjuice slammed into my nose, and I felt my cock twitch violently in my pants, threatening to blast off by itself.
Chad unloaded six or seven spurts of spooge on my face in addition to the ones he jetted down my throat. Bracing himself on the wall, he shuttered and moaned breathlessly, coming slowly down from his orgasm. Van got up to hold him steady, rubbing his shoulders. "Fucken rad dude! I don't remember the last time you came like that man. I felt every one of your spurt blasting down the fag's throat." Chad shook his head as a reply. "Your turn bud. Make the bitch suffer.
Not to be outdone, Van straddled my shoulders, flanking my neck with his thighs and squeezing my head against the wall. My neck bent in a painful angle to meet his cock. "Look at me!" He barked. Batting away the sticky cum from my eyelids, I locked gaze with Van. What's with both of them insisting I look at them while taking their abuse! Van's face was taunt with intensity; I could see he wasn't far from nutting. "You filthy fag, look at your face all plastered with my bud's dickbatter. Look at your pencil dick tenting out while I rape your face. You sick fuck!" He abused me with words and dick alike, hammering my mouth harder than ever. The zipper of his pants grated painfully against my face. He twisted my hair with one hand rotating my head all around his dick, while his other hand spread Chad's cum over my face, into my nose and ears and hair.
Quickly, with a roar, Van reached climax. He pulled back and his hot bittersweet cum splattered against the roof of my mouth, flooding into my nose and out around my lips, drowning me with the scent of his potent musk. Shot after shot he came, injecting even more sperm into me than Chad. Desperately I struggled to swallow. His powerful thighs squeezing around my neck like a python as his body stiffened with each jerk, shutting out my air. The outpouring of his jizz almost never-ending.
Just as he was almost done cumming, I felt the heel of Chad's sneakers grind down again on my balls, crushing them into the root of my dick. And that did it for me. My dick exploded without being touched, dancing around madly inside my underwear, drenching it with more cum than I have ever produced. My body jerked like a rag doll on strings, my eyes rolled back into my head, time and space stopped having meaning. I had my most powerful orgasm after being gang tortured and raped.
When we finally came off the high, Van climbed off me to leaned against the wall, breathless. I was still racked with spasms and sensations that were midway between excruciating pain and exquisite pleasure. Chad grabbed my hair to get my attention. "You filthy sick pervert, you just blew a wad from me kicking your balls you know that?! God you are disgusting!" He spat on me again. I didn't care anymore at that point. "Clean my dick bitch." He thrustedee his bloated cock into my face, still half hard and angrily red. I licked gently around it, cleaning off my spit and his cum. "Now do my buddy." I crawled over to Van and serviced him the same. He watched wordlessly, his dick twitching with my every lick. "Now reach into you pants and scoop out your own cum." He commanded. I looked at him with plea, but did as he said.
My hand came out covered with slime, still warm and gooey. "Look at me while you lick it clean. Slowly." I looked at him, turning crimson red as I licked my palm, sucking each finger clean. I always hated the taste of my own cum. He smirked at my embarrassment, enjoying it like a dessert after having finished the main course of beating and skullfucking. Without him asking again, I scooped down for more cum, eating it up a handful at a time.
When all was done, I looked at Chad, wondering what they have in store for me next. He threw my head back. "Ok we're done with you. Get the fuck outta here you sick motherfucker." Relief washed over me, but deeper down I could feel it mingling with some disappointment. What the fuck was I thinking! Did I want more beating? Did I want to taste again the dicks of these two sadistic hunks? I didn't want to dwell on it. Getting up with the support of the wall, blood rushed back to my cramped body and rediscovered all my painful bruises. I reached up to clean Chad's cum from my face, but Van wouldn't have any of that. "Leave that there cumbreath. You'll wear his sperm till you get home." Obeying, I faltered out of the garage like coming out of some fucked up dream.
Getting to the door, I suddenly remembered they still had my wallet. I turned around to the sight of their dicks still hanging out of shorts and pants, lazing around in post-orgasmic languor. "Um, can I have my wallet back now, please?" I asked. Chad chuckled. "Why don't you come get it." I knew that was just a bait. "Come on please, you've, you've had your fun. Just give it back. Please?" "I tell you what, you come back friday with a cheque to pay for the car damage, and we'll give you the wallet back." I doubted it would've been so easy, but I didn't know what else I could do. Certainly I wasn't going to wrestle it out of their hands. "Get here at 6pm. Don't fuck it up bitch. We know where you live now." Van said coolly. I nodded dejectedly. With one last look at them, I left limping, bruised, abused, cum-dumped, yet more satisfied than I've ever been.
I've got chapter 2 and part of 3 outlined already. But if I hear from no one I'd probably assume this sucked :(, so feedbacks please! dafiishman@hotmail.com