Dicked Down by Big Duff Pt. 02

CW: coerced sex/ non-consent, SPH, forced weed use.

PS: Thanks for all the messages. I've been busy but have new stuff in the works and am looking forward to sharing more smut with you all.

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That next morning I woke up in the embrace of this giant. Before I opened my eyes I felt his heavy limbs over mine, his steady warm snoring on my neck, his big belly pushing into me and the tickle of his copious chest hair and pubic bush scraping against my back and ass.

I had never slept next to someone so big before, and while I had shared beds with friends, we had never spooned like this. Maybe an arm over my side, but nothing so intentionally intimate, so purposefully post-coital. His cock still pushed into me, laid between my buttocks, semi-hard with morning wood. Having his mammoth form pressed up against me holding me and locking me in, felt like a stark contrast to the smaller female bodies I had spooned with. Duff's body was huge, hairy and hot to the touch. I tried to gingerly extract myself from under his arms without waking him.

"Coffee." I heard his deep voice grunt as I stood up from the bed. He reached over and squeezed my right butt cheek roughly before I escaped his grasp. I couldn't find my clothes in the mess of his dark bedroom, so I fled before he could grab me again and put his morning wood ot use.

After taking a leak, I cleaned myself up, washing my own dried semen from my midsection. I looked in his bathroom mirror and as I feared last night, hickeys wreathed my shoulders, neck and chest in a bright purple and crimson garland. These were massive bruises too, big and wide. I wondered if a guy seeing them in the locker room, or walking behind me on the street would know that they had been delivered by the large, strong-jawed mouth of a man. Duff had tattooed me as his after all, at least temporarily.

I also bore the bruises of the back-alley beat down. Duff had never punched me directly, declaring me not man enough to receive his fist. Instead he had shamed me with his slaps, open-palmed and back-handed, over and over again. "Bitch slaps," because as he had proven beyond a doubt, I was his bitch and not my own man. At least one such blow had busted my lip, leaving it swollen on the side. All his other body blows had not left a bruise. My testicles still ached, remembering the the devastating kicks and knees he had punished me with for fighting back. I was mostly fine though, physically. As I stepped out of his bathroom, still buck naked and a captive tiptoeing through my enemy's home, I realized that the only real injury Roger Duffman given me was a fatal wound to my pride.

I found some grounds in his kitchen and made a pot of coffee. As it brewed I surveyed the living room for the jeans and underwear he had thrown in the corner last night but had no luck. So still naked, I returned to the bedroom.

"Um, how do you like your coffee?" I asked quietly.

"Boy, you know how to address me properly. You weren't that drunk last night." So it was a rule then. I felt my face blush.

"Sorry, how do you like your coffee, Big Duff?" I asked. He smiled, pleased. When I came back with a cup prepared to his specifications, he took it from my hand while sitting up in bed.

"There's some bacon and eggs and stuff in the fridge. Make me something good." He instructed, not looking up from his phone. As if he was talking to his personal assistant, his underling. He scratched his hirsute belly with his free hand, and I looked to see that his large bush poked up from the edge of the bed sheets.

"I can't, Big Duff, I have-" I struggled to explain that I had to leave. He put his phone down, waved a hand at me dismissively and barked.

"I don't like telling you to do stuff twice. Whatever plans you had are cancelled. You're with me today, all day. Now make us breakfast and tell me when it's ready." He spoke gruffly but smirked at me, entertained by my feeble objections. As if the idea of my leaving his apartment was preposterous, a child's foolish delusion. Naked with my clothes, wallet, phone or keys nowhere in sight, I knew I was in the bigger man's captivity until he chose to release me. I wasn't ready to flee from his home in my birthday suit. Chastened, I turned heel and followed the hall to his kitchen.

I was surprised by the high quality food in the top two rows of his otherwise barren fridge - it looked like he had gone to an upscale market, and as I laid out the ingredients I wondered if this had been his plan all along. Bringing me back to his place with the expectation of me making breakfast for him in the morning. There was something so cocky about that, knowing that he would take me home and have me stay the night.

I actually enjoyed cooking, I cooked for my roommates regularly, and I took my time to prepare quite the spread. I focused on my task, avoiding tackling the strangeness of the fact that I was bare ass naked in the home of a man I considered my most hated enemy, cooking breakfast for him. Nor did I think about the most bizarre wrinkle of all- that I wanted to do a good job, to please him and make him happy.

Duff emerged from his bedroom in a pair of boxers, his hand plunged beneath the waistband, exposing his thick black pubic bush as he scratched himself and yawned. He sat at the kitchen table, turning on sports radio, and watched me finish up, an amused smile on his face. He beamed at the plate I placed in front of him, gratified by my efforts. He pawed the back of my neck when I tried to step away from him and wrenched my head down to his, then planted a kiss squarely on my lips. Duff licked around then forced his tongue in, and like last night I let him have his way with my mouth. Forcing his wetness into my palate, the strong taste of coffee mercifully covering his morning breath. Despite myself I soon found myself swooning as he probed, meeting his tongue with my own, his hand caressing the back of my neck, until he released me. I gasped for breath.

He grumbled at me to make a plate of my own and have a seat, slapping my behind as he sent me off. I did so, giving myself much less food as my nerves were killing my appetite. It felt strange, sitting down to breakfast completely naked. Duff didn't seem troubled by my bare butt cheeks on his chair.

I ate in silence, taking small and dainty bites. Duff wolfed his plate down, clearly enjoying what I made, demanding seconds. He stuck out his coffee cup and I topped him off. I found that waiting on him came quite naturally, and he spanked and fondled my rump every time I came by, like a big trucker sexually harassing a waitress.

Finally I spoke up as I removed my plate from the table.

"Listen.. Big Duff, I'm gonna have to head out soon, I've got plans today and-" I stopped talking when he slammed his hand down on the table.

'

He stood up, his chair squeaking on the tile. He pushed me back into the wall, poking my bare chest with his finger.

"YOU listen. You're mine now, boy. I thought I made that clear last night." He pressed his left hand against my pectoral and leaned in his face closer to mine. Duff tapped at his temple theatrically.

"I'm the one with the plans, got it? And I got big plans for you, Dougie baby." He gave me one of those unnerving grins while his big dark eyes glowered at me. It was the same look he gave me when he kicked my ass outside the bar last night. He tapped the side of his head a few more times, then rapped his finger tips on my forehead.

"YOUR only plan is to keep me happy. That's your focus now. Easy, right? Just keep Big Duff happy." He nodded at me emphatically, his face about an inch or two from mine, until I bobbed my head back in assent.

"Now you made me tell ya twice, so there's got to be consequences. But you're lucky, cause I'm sweet on ya, so I'm not going to give you another beatdown." He swiped his big hand by my face quickly, faking me out, making me flinch. He laughed, then jabbed my chest again.

'Let's go." He grabbed me by the ear, dragging me behind him to his living area to his couch where he sat down.

"You're acting foolish, stubborn, like a little boy. So that's how you're going to be punished, just like a naughy little boy." He declared, adding a mocking lilt to his voice as he patted his knee.

"Get over my lap, now. You earned 30 good ones." He grabbed my hips then easily threw me over his thick hairy thighs and positioned me so that my naked ass was front and center.

Duff's big hand slapped down on my upturned rear end, delivering four rapid, forceful blows on alternating butt cheeks. I remembered the power of his slaps to my face last night, how it felt like his rough hand had been made of granite. Two more spanks, these ones even harder, making me yelp and struggled over his lap.

"The goal isn't to hurt you, you know damn well I could do that if I wanted to. The goal's to get it through your little head that my word is the law." After he spoke he doled out another six, three on my left, three on my right, fast and harsh. I shouted out with each one. Not even at the midway point and I was panting.

"Who am I?!" He yelled after one thunderous clap squarely down the middle, hitting both cheeks. I hesitated for a moment. More slaps followed, the crack of his hand on buttocks ringing loudly.

"Big Duff!" I called out.

"Attaboy!! And who are you?" Duff quizzed.

"I'm- I'm..." I trailed off and he wallopped my rump, chuckling at my distress and holding me in place with his free hand.

"You're my bitch! You're my bitch, you got it?!" He instructed while thrashing my backside.

"Yes Big Duff, I'm your bitch, I'm your bitch. I'm your bitch!" I cried out, praying for relief. I certainly felt it, helpless over his lap. There were tears in my eyes.

"Good. And now this is the most important one." He chuckled, cleared his throat and asked, giving my bottom a hearty shake with his hands before laying down some more spanks.

"What is my word?" For just a moment I drew a blank.

"Your word... is the law! Your word is the law, Big Duff!" I scrambled to answer.

Five more slaps on my behind and I cried out with each one. He put the full power of his shoulder and heavy arm in each one, drawing up entirely and slapping it down, and laughed at the pitiful yelps I produced with each blow. I pressed my face into his sofa cushion to muffle my screams of pain and frustration. I felt ridiculous, helpless and bare ass naked, getting walloped like a little boy.

He threaded his thick fingers through my hair and wrenched my neck back, lifting me off the couch, and brought his lips right up to my face.

"So you get it now, buddy boy? I tell you to do something, you do it. I tell you what the plan is, and that's the plan, little man. You get it?" Duff kissed my forehead.

"Yes Big Duff." I answered quietly, my face pressed between his big hairy pectorals.

After clearing the table and washing the dishes, Duff put me to work cleaning his entire house. I took a large recycling bag and grabbed all of the empty bottles and cans first, then picked up all the discarded garbage before coming back to wipe clean the surfaces. Like cooking for him, it felt strangely calming to focus just on this task for Duff. I also enjoyed cleaning, and was the neat freak of my roommates who were more than happy to let me clean up after them in the common areas. After he set me up with the location of cleaning supplies, I was pretty self-directed and enthusiastic in my earnest efforts to declutter the man's dank bachelor pad.

Sure it was degrading, cleaning another man's toilet, particularly one who had brought me so low. Low was how I felt, bare ass naked on my hands and knees on his bathroom floor wiping up patches of dried urine from around the base of his toilet, or picking up stray pubic hairs from around the porcelain rim. But cleaning Duff's apartment helped slow down my heart rate after the brutal spanking, and I was able to lose myself in the service. I did a load of laundry, made the bed where he had unmanned me with fresh sheets, I dusted and vacuumed and organized. Each time I saw his amused grin or he made a patronizing comment on my work, I got a bewildering thrill. As I worked I realized it was two feelings at once - half humiliation of toiling for this tyrant, and half genuine pleasure at pleasing him.

"Good job Dougie. Looks like we finally found a job you're up for." He called from the couch as he rolled up a blunt on his newly spotless coffee table, waving me over. Dutifully I delivered myself to him, hands at my sides, head lowered like I truly was his servant. I still felt self-conscious to be naked in front of him.

"From now on you can be my little house bitch." He laughed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke in my face, then offered me the blunt.

Just like last night, when I attempted to decline he forced it on me, locking my head between his bicep and forearm, bringing it to my lips and making me take three long draws. He smoked as I continued to clean, and several more times he beckoned me back to him and would blow lungfuls of weed smoke down my lungs. Shot-gunning, lips to lips in a strange kiss, clasping the sides of my head and forcing the smoke into my body.

I had never liked weed - it made me feel loose and dumb, unsteady. Like I was letting my guard down. At the moment, I felt myself relaxing.

"That's enough cleaning for today boy. Just sit with your man." I curled up next to him tentatively, and he pulled me into his side so that his heavy, hairy body was pressed up next to mine. His left arm slung over my shoulder and his hand rubbed up and down my body, squeezing me and feeling me up, as he continued to pass the blunt from his mouth to mine, always blowing his smoke down my throat too. Soon my head was spinning. This was the most weed I had smoked since college. When it was cashed he brought his lips to my neck and ear, nuzzling me, chomping around behind my ear lobe.

"You're naked. You're mine. There's nothing to keep you from me. Nothing to protect you." I looked at our reflection in the mirror behind his TV. I was unclothed in this massive man's embrace, watching his thick arms run up and down me, molesting me. I looked down at his big hands, hairyo n [ ] He bit along the back of my neck down to my trapezius, and his rough hands squeezed and kneaded my sides. My body trembled at his touch. I felt like the zookeeper who fell into the gorilla enclosure.

"Duff I've got to head out." I protested quietly, looking over at the door. I had no idea where he had put my clothes. His big hands fiddled with my nipples and I gasped, shaking in his grasp.

"Shut the fuck up." He said gently, running his fingers over my lips, his other arm squeezing around my hips.

"You've still got a lot of work to do." Duff gestured down to his spread open legs. His heavy cock popped out of the open fly of his boxers, a big, thick red-headed cudgel, and he brought my hand to it. Tentatively I wrapped my fingers around its growing girth.

"Now you get to know what it feels like to have a real man's cock in your hand, huh kid?" He asked patronizingly, and I nodded, not taking my eyes off the rapidly expanding prick which was making my hand look almost dainty. It felt so taboo to hold another man's cock for him.

"Looks like your little guy likes it too. Your little boy pecker." He observed with a chuckle, gesturing at the hard-on now slapping against my own belly. It wasn't like I had a micropenis or anything. I knew I was average, but compared to him I was small. Much smaller than him. I let his humiliating words wash over me - somehow I was enjoying this - as I gave his big boner a few hesitant strokes.

"That's it. Focus on the man's cock. Focus on the cock that matters." He cooed as I pumped his hard-on. The big old thing was fascinating to me, a great fleshy totem. I jerked him off, mesmerized. We both watched my hand and his prick, and listened to the unmistakable sound of a dick being jacked, the fleshy pumping. Without prompting, I got on my knees and took him into my mouth.

He chuckled at my taking of initiative but patted my head affectionately. Unlike last night he let me go at my own pace. I heard him click on the TV, and he absently ran his fingers through my hair while watching ESPN, spreading his legs to give me greater access to his manhood. I looked up at him, leaned back against the couch, his big belly and powerful fur-matted chest, his broad shoulders and heavy arms spread over his couch. An unmistakably triumphant curl of a smile on his big, wide face. Perfectly relaxed and enjoying my attention. I ran my tongue from the bottom of his ball sack up to the crown of his cock. I relished the salty musk of his groin, the velvety warmth of his flesh, the raking of his pubes against my face. Never in my life had I imagined that I would be face first in the forest of Roger Duffman's bush.

Upon his instruction I sucked and slavered on his big balls worshipfully, taking them in my mouth one by one. As I did this I contemplated them as the potent factories of his seed, the same seed he had blasted into me last night, infiltrating my body. Surely some of his sperm had been absorbed into my system and still swam through me, making me his. I massaged them with my tongue and mouth while he laughed openly and captured pics on his phone. Duff was clearly delighted to have his former enemy giving him a ball washing.

"That's it, suck nuts bitch." He grunted, laughing huskily and pushing his crotch into my face to force his big balls down my throat. He pushed back my forehead so that I was looking at the phone's camera while slobbering on his hairy scrotum.

My face bloomed with warmth and I knew my cheeks were red with embarrassment and bulging with his big ball sack, but I just redoubled my efforts, making the big man groan with pleasure.

"Attaboy. Now let's get some pics of your pretty face with my cock in your mouth." I refocused on his dick, sucking it slowly and purposefully. Gently gripping my chin, he positioned my face for his photo shoot, capturing shots of me sucking on the head like a lollypop, or face buried in his bush as he reamed my throat, balls deep.

"Such a pretty boy. Who ever thought you could be a real man with such a pretty face, such sweet lips? You were meant to be my girl." He blew a kiss down at me as I gobbled on his cock, letting it choke me.

Eventually Duff grabbed my hair and pulled my head up to his belly. He forced my face against his hairy gut, smearing me against him, then up to his chest. I licked eagerly, plunging my tongue in his furry navel, sucking on the dense, wiry pelt between his pecs, dabbing at his big nipples. Soon my face was sent to his armpit. I didn't even blink before burying my face into the swirling hair of his sweating, stinking cleft.

"Don't even need to take a shower when I've got my bitch around." He laughed, then moaned with pleasure as I lapped at his furry armpit. In that moment all I wanted to do was dispense pleasure, to honor him while debasing myself.I heard more photos being taken from his phone. I couldn't believe I was down here, doing this. Eating out his hairy pit like it was a pussy.

"Yeah. Kiss that pit. Give it a nice big smooch. Suck that pit, bitch" He ordered, shoving the back of my head into the sweat-soaked, woolly crevasse. He then directed my mug to his left armpit for the same treatment. All the while he pumped his hips, grinding his rigid prong into my belly as I knelt between his legs.

Finally he released his grip on the back of my head and I lifted up, resting my arms on his spread thighs, taking deep breaths and extracting some stray hairs from my teeth. He laughed and slapped the head of his big hard-on against my cheeks.

"Princess, you know how this ends. My big cock in your pussy. Hit the bathroom and get yourself ready for me." He helped get me back on my feet and sent me on my way with a slap on the bottom.