Dicked Down by Big Duff

"See I don't respect you enough to punch you like you were a man. You're just a bitch, Dougie Calhoun." His left meat hook then ripped down the front of my shirt, bursting the buttons, opening it up and baring my chest to the night air. I tried to take a swing at him but he dodged and slammed me into the wall, his left hand still locked on my hair.

"And bitches get slapped." A third slap, this one backhanded, a pimp slap. I felt the taste of iron on my lips and saw a drop of blood on his knuckles.

He pawed at my shirt again, tearing it entirely open. He grabbed the collar and yanked it off me, ripping it clean off my back and throwing it on the ground and promptly stomping on it. I landed a punch to his big belly but it only made him laugh as he grabbed me and twisted me around. I heard the younger men crack up as I was forcibly stripped and beaten like this.

Duff seized my hair again and gave three more open-palmed slaps in rapid succession as he laughed in my face like a maniac. He left his big hand on my face after the third, squeezing my cheeks painfully and bringing his face to mine.

"Men get punched but bitches just get slapped. You got that?" He leered at me, grinning, his eyes bright with some strange combination of joy and hatred. I struggled to free myself from his grasp. In one last gambit I stepped forward, brought my knee up to his groin. But I was too slow.

Duff stepped back, and his thighs squeezed together, protecting himself. He grabbed my leg, and yanked it up, sending me ass over elbow. I fell to the ground with a painful thud, landing on my back.

"Oh you fucked up now Dougie Calhoun. I was gonna go easy on you, too!" He barked, laughing in outrage, a twinge of fury to his voice.

He kept one hand on my left foot and grabbed my right with the other, spreading my legs open like he was helping me stretch. I knew what was coming but before I could react he lifted up his leg and his big hoof stomped upon my spread open crotch.

For a moment the world went white with pain. Then my eyes refocused, and I saw the gray sides of the building, the sliver of night sky between them, the light from the street, and my torturer standing over me, snarling grin of delight on his big face. Two narrower forms stood above me tittering, the younger guys smoking cigarettes, both had their phones out, recording my ordeal.

"Yeah. Film it. Put this shit on Snapchat. His name's Douglas Calhoun." Duff turned back to me, grinding his shoe into my groin, making me groan in agony. His big hands kept their grip on my ankles, keeping my gonads totally vulnerable to him as I writhed around.

"Douglas Calhoun loses his ability to have kids." He suggested a title for their video as he walked all over my babymakers, reveling in my agony. Duff leaned over me, propped himself up between my legs and slowly emptied a mouthful of spit onto my hair, face and neck, welling up more saliva to keep the stream going. Some even got in my open mouth. I watched him smirk down at me as he pursed his lips, pulsing to generate more drool. He then expelled the new batch from his mouth in long oozing strings, aiming for my eyes, my noise, and the mouth he was able to keep open with pressure to my testicles. He was unhurried in his bullying, in complete control, soaking me in his spittle.

"Or maybe... Douglas Calhoun becomes a fucking eunuch." He proposed as he continued to bust my balls with a series of quick, stabbing kicks to my testicles.

He then reached down and adjusted his hold on my ankles. In one move he lifted me off my back and spun me around so that I was slammed face down onto the street in the alley. The soft skin of my chest and stomach scraped against the wet, jagged asphalt.

Duff let go of my feet, and I struggled to pick myself up, to scramble away. He kicked my upturned ass, mercifully missing my balls by less than an inch. The kick sent me forward a few inches, lifting me off the ground a bit. As I collapsed back down and groaned in pain, I felt him yank the sneakers off my feet so I was left in the alley in my socks. I turned my back and looked up to see him thrusting my shoes into the onlookers' hands.

"Here. Nice shoes, right? Take em, sell em, piss on em, throw em in the dumpster I don't give a fuck." He yammered at the two observers. I turned behind me and watched as he handed them to the kids, who appeared no older than recent college graduates. They looked at them skeptically, but held on to them as ordered.

"He's my barefoot bitch now, ain't that right Dougie?" The younger guys laughed at my predicament. Duff stood between my legs and squatted down, and I felt his big hand reach around my waist and attack my belt buckle. In one quick motion he ripped my belt from the loops on my pants.

"Here, hold this for me kid." He then grabbed my waistband and pulled down my jeans to my knees, leaving me in just a pair of white boxer briefs. For a moment I was terrified that he would go further, pants me completely, leave me completely bare assed out here. But instead his big rough hands released my underwear and he stood back up.

"I fucking told you I was gonna kick your ass, boy. I may not punch you but I am gonna kick your ass!" He declared before planting his boot up my backside once again. Without the protection of my jeans this kick hurt twice as much as the last one, and I was shoved forward by the force of it. I crawled up on my hands and knees, in a six point stance. Just as I began to collect the strength to stand I heard him run up from behind me, kicking a powerful field goal aimed squarely at my helpless hanging nuts.

The yelp of pain I made sounded more like a kicked dog than a man, and all three of the guys laughed at my anguish. I closed my thighs together, gripping my traumatized balls, facedown in the alley. For a moment I was certain I would vomit. Duff reached down and yanked me up by my hair, bringing his face up to mine.

The cruel ogre winked at me then slapped me across the face twice more with his big granite hand, then brought his face to mine again, jamming his big nose up against mine.

"You're getting slapped because you're just a bitch. You understand?" He hissed at me, blowing hot breath in my face. I nodded glumly.

"Say it. Say "I'm a bitch, Big Duff." He commanded. The onlookers giggled.

"I'm a bitch, Big Duff." I groaned out pathetically.

"Louder, so the boys can hear." He grabbed my hair and thrust me towards the younger guys who still held my shoes and belt, held me up to face the recording camera on their phones.

"I'm a bitch, Big Duff!" Still too quiet for his liking, he boxed the right side of my head brutally, and my voice rose in pain and terror as my ear rung.

"I'm a bitch, Big Duff! I'm a bitch!" I yelled, my cries echoing off the walls of the alley.

"Good. Now say "I deserved to get my ass beat." He delivered another rough blow to the side of my head.

"I deserved to get my ass beat." I choked out loudly.

"Kiss my boots you faggot bitch." Duff ordered. He yanked my hair and brought my head down between his legs. Broken, powerless, I groveled before him, bringing my lips to the leather of his boots, one then the other. Eager to please, eager for this to be over. He laughed in disgust.

"Come on. Pucker up. Kiss my fucking boots." Obediently I kissed the big boots that had busted my balls.

"I want to see that tongue." Reluctantly I stuck my tongue out and licked the top of his boot. I heard their disgusted, shocked laughter above me.

"Pathetic. You know what? Kiss their fucking shoes too." He kicked me over to the two younger guys, who laughed at this new debasement. Between kisses Duff yanked back my hair so that they could capture my face in the videos they were both recording. I looked them in the eyes, and the bolder kid blew a kiss at me then spat down into my hair. Duff laughed at this, egging on his cruelty.

As I bent over and kissed one of the guy's shoes, Duff reached into my jeans, still pulled down to my knees, and grabbed both my wallet, phone and keys.

"OK kid give me that belt back. I'm gonna take my doggie for a walk." Both of the younger guys watched as I knelt there obediently while Duff looped my own belt around my neck, creating a tight, makeshift collar and leash. He yanked it, then kicked my rear end again, sending me crawling hands and knees out of the alley and back into the street. The younger guys barked and howled as we passed them.

Crawling on my hands and knees with my jeans pulled down was challenging, and Duff quickly grew impatient with my pace.

"Move your ass, doggie. You're lucky I don't throw your keys in the dumpster." He threatened, and I scurried to stay at his side.

When I got out of the alley and back onto the street I hesitated, feeling the eyes of the bouncer and his friends upon me. At least it was slow for a Saturday evening, with no huge crowd yet - just five burly guys smoking cigarettes and glaring at me in disbelief and disdain. I looked up at my tormentor, who yanked on the belt and shook my confiscated phone, keys and wallet at me.

"You want these? You come with me, doggie." Duff taunted, dragging me along. Shirtless and shoeless, I scrambled beside him at his feet, the men at the door's laughter echoing behind me.

We walked like this for two blocks through mercifully dark streets. My abductor mused to himself that while he had always known I was a bitch, but that he had no idea I'd go down so easy. Chattering on about how pathetic I was. To my relief, Duff's place was as promised right around the corner. It looked like he had a whole house to himself, kicking me in the seat of my underpants to send me scrambling up the steps to his porch then through his front door.

Doubly lucky, he did not appear to have roommates, or at least there was no sign of them. He locked up the door behind him and then headed into a living room, pulling me along with him.

"You deserve a drink after getting your ass handed to you like that." I just looked up at him, not sure how I should respond. What was I doing here?

"Have a seat." He gestured to the couch. I was a little surprised - I had thought my place would have still been the floor. I crawled up to the couch, and he stomped down on my crumpled jeans so that I slid out of them. He then kicked my discarded pants out of the way and turned away from me. I sat there in just my white boxer briefs, looking around his sparsely decorated apartment while I heard him puttering around in his kitchen. I studied the coffee table - littered with empty beer bottles, wadded up pairs of large boxers which were likely cum rags, and Xbox controllers. Roger Duffman was still very much enjoying the bachelor lifestyle.

He swept back in the room with two very large drinks. I accepted the cocktail and he sat down beside me, close. He took a sip and then threw his big arm over my bare shoulder. We sat in silence for a moment until he turned on his TV to ESPN. It was strange, with the low light and his proximity it almost felt like we were on a date. He kept the belt looped around my neck, held on to it. I hadn't thought to take it off from my neck.

"Come on, drink." He ordered, and I brought the overly-full glass to my lips. It was a strong drink with very little mixer diluting it. I couldn't even place what it was but I obediently downed some.

Duff grunted in approval, then leaned over his coffee table. I watched as his big form focused on rolling a large blunt from a cigar and the heap of loose marijuana on the table. The black polo shirt he was wearing rode up and I looked at the exposed small of his back, the sweat slicked thatch of dark hair there. I resisted the strange impulse to lean down and taste the salt of his perspiration.

"I knew you go to Murphy's all the time. Knew I'd catch you there." He took a long sip of his drink and put it on an end table, then with his free hand he began rubbing the back of my head.

"When Kara told me about pegging your little asspussy, and showed me the videos, I couldn't stop thinking about taking you. Taking you all the way." He dropped my leash and grabbed his blunt, bringing it up to his face and licking the length of it with his large, wide tongue.

"Taking me?" I asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, taking your ass. Butt-fucking you. Don't be dense." He snorted in derision then lit his handiwork. I was quiet for a moment as he took a long puff. Finally I responded to him.

"I can't do that." I protested meekly. He blew clouds of weed smoke into my face and laughed at me.

"You were born to be a faggot, Dougie. It's obvious, maybe to everyone but you. Good looking guy. Fuck that, gorgeous. Pretty boy. With a cute little baby dick. I had to beat that arrogance out of you, but now that I did I think you're ready to be what you were meant to be." He expelled another puff in my face, then lightly slapped the back of my head.

"Didn't I, bitch?" I looked at him in confusion, not understanding his meaning. He scoffed at my slow-wittedness and continued.

"Didn't I beat the arrogance out of you? Did I beat all the fight out of you? Take your pride? Did I break you? Or do I need to beat your little ass some more?" Though he smiled his eyes narrowed at me, his eyebrow arching, and his arm tensed, squeezing my shoulder, communicating to me the ever-present threat that if he wanted he could deliver a beat down that would make the thrashing in the alley seem like a playfight.

"You beat me, Big Duff." I answered. That's what guys had called him back in school. That's what he made me call him in the alley. He smiled, understanding what it meant for me to call him that unprompted, then passed the blunt to me. When I demurred he insisted, locking my head in a gentle chokehold and bringing it to my lips. He forced me to smoke. I closed my eyes and inhaled.

"That's it. For once in your life, stop being a little pussy. Have some fucking balls." He roared with laughter as I choked on the weed, coughing, my eyes watering. Ironically, I hadn't smoked since college.

"Oh Dougie. We'll make a man of you yet. Well, not a man, but a proper bitch." He slapped my back several times then began rubbing the small of it. He brought my glass to my lips, making me drink more of the strong cocktail.

As he placed it back on the coffee table, he snatched the waist of my boxer briefs. Ever the bully and locker room terror, Duff was an expert at debriefing a guy, stripping me naked in one smooth motion. He yanked them over my feet and tossed them toward my jeans in the corner.

"Whoops, there go your panties!" He laughed, then grabbed my hips to lift me off the couch and onto his lap, facing him. I was straddling him now, my legs folded on either side of his big hairy thighs. Completely naked while he remained fully dressed. He squeezed my sides with his rough hands, and brought his thumbs to my nipples. All the while he looked me up and down, at my mostly hairless chest where he played with my pink nubbins, my belly that he would occasionally rub his hands over, down to my spread open groin, my dick beginning to stand at half-mast as a result of his play on my pectorals. He would then swoop his head up to look me in the eyes and smile at my modest manhood.

As he toyed with me, Duff continued to have us drink like this, passing the blunt between us as well. At one point he took a long drag of it, clasped the back of my head and brought my lips to his, shotgunning the smoke down my throat. Again he cracked up when I erupted into coughing fits.

Duff lay his hand atop my head, petting me affectionately.

"Didn't want to have to give you such a beating but you gave me no choice. Had to make sure all the fight was stripped from you." His hand moved down over my face, seizing my chin and rubbing my cheek, then he laughed again.

"Look at that, got my hand prints on your pretty face." He reversed his phone's camera to show me his large, bright red hand prints on my face. The marks of each finger and his palm distinctly marked. It was obvious that I had been slapped across the face. Then he snapped a photo.

"Yeah, I knew you were a little bitch, Dougie." He said as he grabbed my sides again, squeezing as his mouth nuzzled my neck. He licked at the skin then brought it between his teeth to bite. I could feel him giving me hickeys.

Duff seized my wrist and forced me to rub my hand against his bountiful groin, to feel the rigidity in his jeans.

"Feel how hard you got me, bitch?" I nodded meekly.

"Ever suck one?" I shook my head, unable to look him in the eye.

"Liar. Well you're gonna suck one now." He declared, dumping me from his lap and onto the floor. He unzipped his pants and quickly extracted his massive hog.

I had stolen glances of it in the showers and shamefully studied the dick pics he had sent me earlier that day but now his monstrous prong was inches from my face. So close I could smell it. He leaned back and pulled his jeans and striped boxers down to his thighs, treating me to the sight of his whole manhood, the big red balls, the dense bush, and a swollen cock pointed right at me.

"You see Dougie, tonight's all about making friends." He said, gripping his dick at the base with his fat fingers, and shaking it, slapping it against his belly. When I retreated back he seized the back of my head and pulled me back between his spread thighs. Duff kept shaking his prick, and now the underside of his shaft and the big flared head slapped against my closed lips.

"Time to make a new friend." Locking my head in place, his hand clasping the back of my neck. He humped his bare ass up from the couch to grind and smear his boner against my face.

He increased the pressure on my neck, squeezing it painfully. I knew from very recent experience that he could do whatever he wanted to me. Could make me do whatever he wanted. Keeping my eyes firmly closed, I opened my mouth and tentatively licked it.

"That's it. Say hello." I raked my tongue along his shaft, rearing back then bringing it from the base of his cock all the way to the head. Duff's whole body shivered, and above me he groaned approvingly.

"Yeah you two are gonna get real familiar." The detaining hand on the back of my neck loosened and it returned to patting my head, running his fingers through my hair and stroking my scalp.

Despite his claims otherwise, I had told the truth when I said I had never sucked cock before. However the truth also held that back when I was with Kara I had always fantasized about her spinning me around and bringing her PVC phallus to my mouth. I had wanted to know what it felt like, parting my lips, infiltrating my jaw, occupying my palate and choking my throat. And when I saw my friends larger endowments bounce in their shorts on the field, or stole discreet glances of their free hanging cocks in the locker room or showers, I always wanted to know what it felt like to be filled. What a man tasted like.

Duff was very much a man, and he tasted like sweat, ball sack, a hint of piss. He tasted like the wiry pubic hair that was pressing against my face, the hard liquor and citrusy mixer he was having us drink, and the weed he was forcing me to smoke with him.

I lapped at him eagerly, bringing my tongue lower to say hello to both of his big, heavy balls, and to lick upon his hairy scrotum. He chuckled as I worshipped his babymakers. I came back up and brought my open lips to his glans, giving it open mouth kisses.

"Enough small talk. Time to really get to know him." I understood his meaning and opened my mouth wide to grant access to his big bulbous cockhead. He was in my mouth. I focused on keeping my lips over my teeth as his long, thick hard-on slowly invaded my throat.

"I think he likes you, Dougie baby." He groaned as he lifted his hips off of the couch to take more territory in my mouth. He grabbed both my ears and tickled my trachea with his big slab. I willed myself not to gag, to breathe through my nose. Soon enough, though, my throat rebelled, spasming like I was about to puke. I began to panic but Duff held me down for a few extra moments and finally mercifully released me, as I came up from his dick and exploded in a sputtering, retching fit. He laughed at me and poked at my chest with his foot, jamming his big toe against my nipple