Caught in the Showers Pt. 02

"Now jerk that little thing, boy. Get on with it. Put on a real show, jack off." By now I knew better than to resist. Instead I took a deep breath, grabbed my hard-on and began to stroke, while he leered at me from behind his phone.

He egged me on as he circled around me like a predator, capturing my whole body on his video. Again and again he made me proclaim that I was a public masturbator, a public jerk-off, a spanky boy, a virgin for life.

I could see myself in the mirrors still, humping my hand like a fool, pumping and wiggling my hips as he demanded. He yelled at me to touch myself, to make myself feel good. Obediently I began to feel myself up, running my hands all over my chest, my belly. The stimulation on my newly smooth skin made me tremble.

I lost myself to lust. A frenzied and shameful lust for my own penis, for my own perversion, the naked spectacle of myself. His big hog was hard again now, too, rampant from the dense gray forest of his pubes. He was as turned on as I was by my obscene display. A man's most private act made into a coerced performance.

I performed for him like a buffoon, a naked clown. This is what I had fantasized about since those days back in the dorm room showers, and this hateful old brute had finally made it a reality for me.

I screwed my hand like a fool. My mouth opened and closed involuntarily, like a fish. I licked my lips as my throat went dry.

'Yeah, that's it! Stick your tongue out, spanky boy! Haha, yeah!" He bellowed. I obeyed and lolled my tongue around, making an animal of myself, a true pervert. He stepped closer to me, flicking his tongue rapidly left and right, squeezing my jaw to make me do the same then stepping back to lift his phone and record my lewd antics.

My dick was slick with precum and I was nearing the precipice of orgasm.

"Hands off cock!" He shouted like a proctor. I released my prick and he pulled me down from the bench, grabbing me by the waist as I hopped down.

"Attaboy, jerk-off. Just one more lesson for you, boy. One you won't ever forget." Keeping one hand on my haunch, he slapped the side of my head lightly a few times, then clasped the back of my head. He forced me to look down at his rampant red hard-on, thick and wet-snouted.

"This big old poker's going right up your back door, boy. That's what happens to public jerk-offs and perverts like you. They get rammed right up the keister by real men, and turned into squealing sissy girls forever." He shook his big dong menacingly at me as he spoke. I watched it swing around and pulse, and I trembled with fear and a strange, stomach-twisting curiosity.

Holding on to my arm, he dragged me from the locker room and hauled me to a small wood-floored studio beside the weight room. He grabbed a mat from a stack and threw it out on the center of the floor.

"On all fours, faggot!" He barked, kicking at my ankles. As I got down on my hands and knees he pushed me forward so that I fell into the mat. He grabbed both of my ankles and yanked me toward him. I righted myself and he mounted up behind me like a wrestler taking position. His huge, heated body, hirsute and sweat-slick, felt so strange against the naked skin of my posterior.

The old man ran his callused hands all over my shaking body. He felt up my hips, my waist, my belly, then brought them up to my chest, feeling the skin he had denuded of body hair. The room had floor-to-ceiling mirrors on all sides so I could watch him molest me at every angle and appreciate the outrageous contrast of our two naked bodies. My flush, freshly shaven skin, vandalized by his marker like crude tattoos and his wide, hairy form behind me. It looked like I was about to be violated by a great ape.

Meeting my face in the mirror he smiled maliciously while tweaking my nipples. I gasped and my knees wobbled, and I could feel his big hard-on poke around between my cheeks. He nodded at me while still grinning toothily - this was going to happen. The old man was a carnivore and he seemed to relish both my terror and my budding need, the gut-roiling conflict it caused in me. He was going to put it in me, he seemed to be saying with just a smirk and a slow nod. Put it in me and make me like it.

He leaned down and I could feel all of his weight atop me, the warmth of his big, hirsute body. His rough hands spread my buttocks and he began to probe at my hole. I flinched as his index finger stabbed into me but he kept a firm grasp on my waist. He jammed his thick fingers into me, and spat a thick wad of saliva to wet his plundering digits. I squirmed a bit and he brought a sharp spanking hand down on my haunch.

I looked around nervously. He didn't care if someone walked in and saw us. Maybe he wanted us to get discovered like this. I thought of it and my mind raced. Any number of men walking in here and seeing me in this state. For a moment I thought of fleeing, and my tormentor seemed to intuit that.

"You're not going anywhere, boy. You're going to stay right where I got you. You're just going to take it, boy. You were born to get butt-fucked. This is in your DNA. You're a Carmody. A faggot by nature." He declared as he slowly stroked his hard-on, a hand still clawing at my hip, locking me in place in front of him. In the mirror I could see that he had a thin black tube by his side, and he was slicking its contents into his red cudgel of a cock.

"Yeah, down on your hands and knees, I think that's where you're most at home don't you boy?" I could feel him positioning himself behind me. I took a deep breath, anticipating the pain of his intrusion. His slickened cockhead pressed up at the gates of my hole, ramming up against resistance.

His fat snouted hog was definitely the biggest thing to ever be back there. An old girlfriend, a different one than "pinky dicks," had stuck a small, thin dildo up my ass a couple times, always when we were both drunk. I remembered the weirdness and stabbing pain of it, the queasy humiliation of being penetrated, but I knew that there was pleasure on the other side.

And I knew that even if I could throw him off me, at this point I wouldn't dare. The old man had spanked and shamed me out of any opposition. I was rightfully his prize. I thought of the pantomimed battle of professional wrestlers. I was like an exhausted jobber standing there dazed in the clutches of a vicious heel, permitting myself to be manhandled and folded up into another devastating hold or throw. I was thoroughly his.

His fingers dug into my haunches as his thumbs kept my cheeks spread open. I pushed back to let him in me, willed myself to open up the gates and let him invade. I groaned as he began to force his way, then yelled out in pain as he infiltrated me.

"Aww quit your crying." He grunted, spanking me once more then holding onto the cheek, pulling me back into him as he banged up against my doors.

"Look on the bright side, sissy boy. Now you finally get to lose your virginity." He spread my buttocks wider.

"Well, your anal virginity, at least." He laughed while adjusting his stance.

"Cause I'm going to pop that little cherry a' yours."

At the word "pop" he bucked his hips and jammed his way in, and I yelped, a pitiful high squeak. He paused a moment after breaching, chuckling at the sounds I was making, holding my hips in place, then pushed forward so that his entire big cock head was inside of me. I barked out again.

"Yeah, I think the only way to cure you of your nasty public jack off habit is a nice big cock right up your little bottom." He stayed his advance as he held onto my waist. I could feel the slickness between his hands and my skin - I was drenched in sweat, feverish from getting penetrated like this. He wiggled his hips, making me feel the shocking presence of his cockhead in my hole.

"And I got a real fat one for you, don't I, little boy?" He boasted as he drove forward into me, gaining ground. With every inch of his onslaught I gasped breathlessly, but then he reached a depth in me that was truly excruciating. Past the point of stretching, it felt like he was breaking something vital inside of me.

I hollered in anguish, futile scrambling beneath him, completely trapped. We must have had the entire place to ourselves, as I'm sure they could hear my wails all the way out on the golf greens. His hands squeezed tight around my hips and I was hooked on his dick like a fish. All I could do was holler.

"Yeah, go on and cry then, cry your eyes out. This is all part of your lesson, boy. You got to learn. You got to learn that this is what happens to little public jack-offs like you. I'm doing this for your own good, boy." He poked deeper into me and I dropped my head into the mat.

"Naughty jerk-off boys like you get butt-fucked." He bucked into me once more. I gasped, shuddering, almost nauseated by the alien sensation of having my depths plumbed, of being so thoroughly filled up back there. It felt profoundly violating to have another man inside of me like this, his big, ugly hard cock jammed into me, yet I wanted it, wanted him to plunder me.

I felt a strangle tickle against my shaven taint, something warm and prickly. It was his big, hairy scrotum. The man was fully inside of me now, fully implanted. Another man's nuts were pressed right up against me. He was balls deep. I looked at us in the mirror, there was no space between his groin and my cheeks. He was leering at me, beaming with pride at having bottomed out in me, defeated me, conquered me with his cock.

He began to thrust in and out of me, cooing with pleasure as he enjoyed the tight territory he had excavated from my innards. With each stroke his big belly and barrel chest shook, jiggled obscenely. He jabbed in and out of me, aiming at different angles so as to open me up for him further. To claim even more of me.

I lowered my head again, exhausted - it was like the sodomy was stealing all of my energy, all of my power. When my head fell he yanked me by the hair to lift it up.

"Don't you dare close your eyes, faggot. Don't you dare look away. This is who you are. A butt-fucked public jerk-off. Just like your thistle-dick faggot father and all the Carmody faggots that came before you. Never forget it." He slapped his hands over both sides of my face, boxing my ears and grabbing me, forcing me to look. Our eyes met in the mirror. Mine were half-closed, dazed with pain, his were wild and gleeful.

"This is your lot in life, boy. Bending over and getting butt-fucked." He spoke between thrusts, panting with exertion.

"Completely fucked!" He shouted. To emphasize his statement, he rammed his hips into me, slamming his belly into my back, driving all the way home with his rigid hog. I cried out but let myself get screwed, offering myself up to him. His fat cock stabbed into my guts, rearranging my insides.

He released my face but brought one hand to the top of my head, threading his big fingers through my hair and clamping it into a fist. Picking up his pace, I listened with fascinated revulsion to the strange, wet sound of his rutting into me, mixed with the clap of his flesh smacking into mine. He brought his rough, stubbled chin to my neck, licking and sucking my ear, blowing his hot breath into it.

"Christ, look at you." My body was drenched in sweat in the unairconditioned studio. I was trembling, I looked drunk, drugged, but it was just the electrifying effect of his mammoth cock stabbed up into me, his pounding thrusts hammering into my guts, bulldozing me. I was red in the face, soaking with sweat, shuddering and feverish. No sex had ever done this to me, impacted my physiologically like this. Destroying the part of me that made me a man.

"You're going to be a faggot for life." He hissed, then seemed to catch himself, pulling himself back from the brink of cumming before he wanted to. He slowed up a bit, became more sensual with his lovemaking. Leisurely strokes that rubbed his big hooked cockhead over my prostate, that secret spot deep inside of me that had barely been probed before today. My moans were those of a woman. His hands gripped my wrists, rubbing up and down my arms, then over my shoulders. He fondled my chest and reached down to feel up my belly and sides, touching me all over.

I watched us in the mirror as a buzzing charge rippled wherever he made contact with me. It felt like he was transforming me, changing every part of me. His great plowing prong was turning my ass into a receptacle for cock and converting me into his debased, butt-fucked faggot slave. His tongue in my ear and the filthy words he was spitting into my eardrum were twisting my mind.

Already he had changed me - spanked me to tears, shaved me back into prepubescence, marked me up with degrading messages, and cowed me into accepting it all. To not even put up a fight. Instead I had just taken a four-point stance and let have his way with me.

He grasped my hair in his fist and jerked my head up, making me watch in the mirror as my body shook each time he slammed his hips into me. He brought his slobbering mouth from my ear down to my neck and sunk his teeth into the flesh there. Chewing and sucking, I knew he was surely branding me with an enormous hickey, yet I whimpered with pleasure.

He had made me his stooge, his bullying victim, and now the old man had made me his mate. This was not lovemaking but our bodies were in complete communion. Mine had completely yielded to his.

The stream of vitriol had become incomprehensible grunts that he spat into my ear with each unforgiving thrust. His big balls slapped into mine. He was a rutting stag, a rampant bull, and I could only stay there on all fours and accept him. Yield to his insemination like a heifer.

He had one hand locked over my neck in a choking armbar, and the other that had been molesting my chest found its way between my legs and seized my swinging testes. He squeezed my ball bag, pulsing it in his fist rapidly, and I felt myself tighten on his invading cock each time he crushed my nuts. He found a pace that he enjoyed, squeezing just at the moment that he was pulling his cock out after each thrust. He was tormenting me to bring even greater pleasure to his prick.

Each time he closed his fist around my gonads he seemed to go tighter and tighter, making me gurgle with agony and bringing me closer to annihilation. He would then release them only to quickly squeeze again even harder. I trusted his restraint but in that moment it truly felt like he wanted to geld me, to make me a true mate for him. My full ruin.

It would be the logical conclusion of the campaign of emasculation he had subjected me to all afternoon. He would rut and inseminate me with his virile seed while I would be sterilized, castrated, my cursed Carmody nuts shattered and forever useless inside my swollen sack.

"Want me to do it, boy? Life might be easier for you as a eunuch. Hell, I've already ruined you. Stripped you of your manhood. Made you a faggot." His words felt real. It felt like he had worked a profound change in my body and mind. He bit into my neck on the other side and licked around before continuing.

"Once is all it takes, boy. Oh yeah. Just one butt-fucking. Every man knows it. Take cock up the rear just once and lose your manhood forever. One big cock up your backdoor and you're going to be a faggot for life. Forget a wife, or a family. Your little dick won't get hard for pussy anymore boy, if it ever did. Your skinny little penis is gay now." He shook his squeezing fist around so that my boner wiggled back and forth between my legs.

"Understand?" He barked between thrusts, slapping my ass while pumping back and forth into my hole. I groaned out in the affirmative.

"Are you a faggot now, boy?" He asked with a snarl.

"Yes, Sir!" He twisted my ear roughly and shouted his question again.

"Yes Sir I'm a faggot now, Sir!" I yelled out, my voice cracking.

He wrenched his arm back to lift me up, so that I was just on my knees but still impaled on his cock. He seized my chubbed-up peter once more, roughly shaking it, forcing me to look at it.

"Look at this little pecker. This tiny little thing's gotten you into so much trouble, huh? Is this little joke of a penis gay now, boy? Huh?!" His forearm cut off my breathing passage. As he fiddled with my hard-on he continued to pummel my innards with his much larger cock.

"Yes Sir it's gay Sir my penis is gay Sir!" I warbled so that he would release my neck. He pushed me back down into the tabletop position, on all fours, humping away at my backside.

He made me repeat it over and over again as he railed me, that my penis was gay, that I was a faggot for life. I knew it was absurd, grade-school stuff but in that moment it felt like a magic spell, a curse. My shameful self-condemnations were punctuated by his brutal thrusts, the slam of his wide hips into mine.

I continued my panted mantra but all I could think about was the insane pressure of his mammoth prick inside of me. At this point the pleasure of his intrusion outweighed the pain. I had even begun pushing back against his thrusts, meeting him halfway as his eager bottom.

When he began to jackhammer into my guts and I felt the invading presence inside of me grow even stiffer, I knew that the big old bastard was getting close to cumming. Spraying my insides with his seed, just as he had shot down my throat earlier.

Strange, sex-sick thoughts bloomed in my head as his sawing dong raked in and out of me. I visualized his great big prick roughly inserted deep inside of me, how the wide, gnarled column of flesh would twitch and pulse, how his big balls would pull up tight in his sack as he ejaculated. I could see it in my mind, and as he had said I knew there was no taking it back.

What would it mean to let another man jizz in me, bust his thick milky nut up inside of me? A panicked, irrational voice inside of my head insisted that this would be permanent. I was going to let the brute inseminate me with his seed, leaving a part of him in me forever.

This cruel and vile old ogre would mark me with his thick, steaming spooge, coat my insides with his scum, inject me with his essence. His big churning ball would empty themselves and his sons would swim inside of me. His living sperm would course through me, there wouldn't be a part of me that hadn't been touched by him. For the rest of my days, my life forever now changed, I would carry some essential piece of him deep inside of me. My head swirled with these images and I realized that I was in ecstasy, grinding my hard pecker against the mat while he plowed me.

He bellowed, roaring like a conquering lion, and kept bucking his hips as he came. I felt a warm, spreading wetness fill me. I looked between my legs and saw my hard-on bathed in a pool of clear precum. I hadn't climaxed, not really, but he had made me leak for him and churning waves of pleasure ran from my toes to the top of my head. A faggot for life, just as he had promised.

When his bellowing subsided the man held my hips and dragged me back a few steps on the mat. He moved slowly, keeping his hips pressed against my buttocks, careful to remain docked inside of me.

"Clean up your mess, boy." He pushed my face into the puddle of my own jizz, smearing it across my cheeks and nose, then slapping at the back of my head until I licked it up. Denied the relief of full climax, I was still keyed up, still hungry for his violating cock. I lapped the spooge up like a kitten and thrust my hips back into his hairy crotch and squeezed my hole around his still tumescent cock, milking him.

"Pathetic." He grumbled while laughing at me, holding on to my waist and bumping into me. I saw between my legs that he was squeezing his own big ballbag, making sure the dregs of his load emptied into my rectum. He took a few breaths then stood up, wrenching his hog out of me. He grabbed my ankles, lifting my legs up and holding me upside down. Only my palms were on the mat now. I had a view of his wide feet and hairy ankles.