This may not be reproduced in any form for profit or placed within
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permission of the author. The author may be contacted at
khaan@speakeasy.org or via ICQ #51761475 and more can be found at
http://www.asstr.org/~Rob_Morton.
Copyright 2002, Robert B. Morton, II, all rights reserved.
Disclaimer
For those individuals not of legal age to read this where they live,
shame on you! For those folks who may be offended by this writing, all I
can say is caveat lector--you have been warned. The following is a work of
fiction and the usual statements about bearing any resemblance to people or
places, living or dead, being coincidental, etc., apply here.
Taken, by Rob Morton (M/M)
Large, strong hands holding my head still, a gentle reminder that
resistance was not only futile, but would be dealt with in the usual harsh
manner. A collection of scents assail my senses, some pleasant, some not
so pleasant as the large, knob worms its way deeper into my throat,
threatening to choke the life out of me.
With the hands’ grip on the side of my head blocking my ears, I can
barely hear the sounds of someone moaning – it could be me for all I know –
I’m no longer sure of anything except the crazy hard softness working
itself into my mouth…
What I do know is that I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be allowing this
to happen – and all the while knowing that I’d do it all again if given the
opportunity.
The hands tighten a little more around my head, making the skin under
those massive palms all wet and clammy while the fingers massage my jaw
muscles almost as an afterthought as yet more of Jerrod’s cock inches its
way into my throat, increasing my anger at having been so weak again…
No, I’m not mad at Jerrod, the with the soft, gently – but equally
strong hands and fingers. I’m not even mad that he just took what he
wanted from me without asking, shoving his then flaccid member between my
unresisting lips until my nose was buried deeply in his thatch of pubic
hair.
What angers me is my reaction… or lack of, in some respects. What I
should have done the moment all of this started was to say no, to turn my
head away from the lovely offering being forced upon me. But, no, what did
I do the second his glans touched my lips? Opened my mouth and welcomed
his unwanted invasion, my lips and tongue knowing just what to do to get
him hard in my mouth, just like the good little whore he expects me to be.
I’m angry with myself because now my hands are on his firm backside,
guiding him deeper into my mouth while my fingers knead the flesh of his
ass urgently.
I know I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be doing this, and shouldn’t be
enjoying the feel of his hardness bruising my throat as he begins to grow a
little longer and thicker. But the sad truth is that I’m Jerrod’s little
bitch, his punk whore and his to use in any way he chooses. I know I could
– and should – say no to him and just walk away, just like I did one time
before… well, at least until he pulled his erection out and waved it at me
and, like the fool I am, I turned and went back, unable to resist and my
mouth watering for the taste and feel of him as I got to my knees and took
him once more into my mouth.
I can tell he’s getting close; my mouth and throat really starts to because he’s ramming his cock into my mouth just as hard and fast as he can
manage. My own cock is a massive steel rod, trapped inside my pants, a
large spot of wetness spreading across the fabric as my own passions burn
hotly inside of me, passions that will, as always, go unfulfilled because
nothing is more important right now than getting ready to receive Jarrod’s
sticky offering.
Jerrod’s saying something but I can’t hear him – don’t need to,
actually, ‘cause I know what he’s saying: “Suck my cock, you whore, suck
it, bitch, eat my meat, slut; yeah, gonna juice you good, you little punk
bitch…”
Oh, I just love it when he talks to me like that – but I hate it, too,
because I love it when he talks to me like that…
Oh, God, he coming now – I just felt the first bit of his on my
tongue and here comes both the good and bad parts. Good because he’s
filling my mouth with his sperm and I love the taste of his – so and creamy and a little salty and, God, there’s so much of it!
Bad because he’s got his entire cock jammed into my throat, his hands
holding my head tightly against his crotch as his bone keeps upchucking
down my throat and into my stomach… and I have my hands on his ass, holding
him so tightly against my mouth that I know I’m leaving fingerprints in his
flesh…
I can’t breathe at the moment because Jerrod is still pumping sperm into
my throat – where does he keep all of it? – I can feel the wispy fingers
of panic brushing against my skin as my own cock unloads itself into my
pants because I can’t breathe, can’t breathe, need to breathe…
Jerrod backs off just enough for me to draw in much-needed air in
through my flared nostrils before slamming his groin back against my face,
the last bits of his whey-like load sputtering into my mouth and sliding
into my stomach. God, he tastes so fucking good!
Finally, Jerrod pulls his dick out of my mouth, his hands releasing my
head so I can move it in order to get the kinks out of my neck. I open my
eyes and see his cock staring at me, all and flushed with blood… and
still very much erect, which is another thing I love about Jerrod… and
something else I hate about him.
I’m barely aware of Jerrod clawing at my soiled pants, cursing at me to
help him to remove them; I guess I helped enough because there they go,
sailing across the room and landing who knows where. No, Jerrod’s not
about to return the favor, as it were, because, well, he doesn’t do that.
He’s rolling me over onto my stomach and I can already feel his knob
against my puckered asshole, all wet and slick with saliva and his own
seed.
Bright lights explode behind my clenched eyelids as Jerrod plows into my
rectum without any regard for what I may be feeling. It doesn’t as
much as it used to because, obviously, he’s been inside me so many times it
should be easy for him. It still hurts a little, but it’s not that bad,
really…
Now I can feel his weight on my back as he settles in to fuck me; I can
feel his breath on the side of my face, all hot and wet, as he grunts and
groans each time he thrusts himself inside of me, telling me how good my
ass feels and how he’s gonna fuck me until I beg him to stop.
The anger returns because he knows that I know that I’m going to beg him
to stop eventually, I’m going to start begging for his sperm again,
pleading with him to fill my ass with his spunk. This time, the anger is
stronger within me and I’ve decided that I’ve had enough of being used and
abused like this and I start to get up despite Jerrod’s greater weight
pressing me to the floor…
Only to feel his hand on the back of my neck, forcing me back onto my
stomach, and making me submit once more to his demands, his voice telling
me that I’m going to be punished...
Jerrod’s got this unbelievable “talent” for being able to deliver a
bucket of when you blow him and he remains just as hard so he can fuck
you – and he can keep it up for quite a while, too. I knew another guy
like him, but this guy would blow a load in my mouth then slide into me and
blow another load in just a few short minutes. Not Jerrod. He feels like
a piece of red-hot iron in my bowels as he begins to pound himself into my
ass without any mercy whatsoever.
Tears are beginning to spill down my face, pooling where my cheek is
mashed hard against the floor; I’m crying because he’s hurting me, crying
because of the sheer humiliation of being in this position again, and
crying being I’m loving every second of it – and I hate myself for it,
which just starts me crying again.
My poor prostate feels like someone’s been using it for baseball
practice as Jerrod’s cock head slams repeatedly into it, causing me to all over myself and the floor; my sphincter is painfully stretched wide as
his cock plows into me; Jerrod’s in grand form today and I know I’m going
to be in for a rough time…
I’m not sure at what point I either passed out or just went to sleep; I
know that when I woke up, I found myself in Jerrod’s bed and nice and warm
and comfortable between those gold satin sheets he’s so proud of. My body
aches from the severe pounding administered by Jerrod… but I manage to find
some comfort in the whole thing, knowing that it could have been – and has
been – worse.
I roll over and see my clothes piled up on a nearby chair, taking notice
that Jerrod’s nowhere to be seen at the moment, which gives me my chance to
get out of here! Damn it, this is the last time, I swear it is!
As quickly and as quietly as I can, I start to get dressed, wincing
silently as my slightly bruised and battered body protests against the
sudden movements; yeah, I’m gonna be really sore later but right now I
gotta get outta here before Jerrod comes to check on me.
I sit down on the bed and stuff my feet into my socks before thrusting
one leg into my pants. Just as I’m about to complete the task of getting
my pants on, the door opens and Jerrod walks in just as naked as the day he
was born.
“And where do you think you’re going?” he asks as he walks towards me,
holding his cock in his hand. My mouth begins to water…
I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be allowing this to happen...
Finis (for now)
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