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A Man's Decision 5
"Dogged Werewolf"
by Emile
2010 (revised). This is a work of fantasy. You should obey the laws of your juristiction, ie consensual sex between adults.
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I was a lot more uncomfortable now. I'd arrived at the bar still damp, the translucent white threads clinging to my hulky body, the pool water trapped on my chest and legs had been drawn into the fabric, so each fleck of hair was now silhouetted against the material, making me look even more trashy. Since my gymnast's V-tapered body was on display, I copped plenty of looks from girls and guys, which when they took in my translucent clothes and pink mini-mohawk were either disgust or openly cruising me. I crossed my arms in the street, tucking my hands under my pits, but there was no hiding my beefy body, especially not with my tackle flopping about so much against my hairy thighs, and in a few seedier areas the unfriendly hoots and cat calls made my shiver. Still, I guess I'm pretty beefy and imposing, so I played it like some kind of bucks-night trick, and no-one took me on.
When I arrived, Rob and Joey were at a bar table finishing off their burgers, and the sight made my mouth water. They made me wait, so I stood hands behind my back, thumb pressed against my pucker, a barefoot hangdog piece of junk next to their clean cut jeans and polos. Rob finished first, swirling the last french fry in the oil of the plate, making to offer it to me, before finishing it himself. "I'll take care of him" he grunted to Rob, who handed him a small chain, before the nasty player led me to the bathroom stalls.
When we got into a stall, Joey showed me what they'd brought - it was the prick stuffing sound Rod had made me wear at the game. I half heartedly protested, but was already getting hard at the sight of it, shucking down my pants to mid-thigh. When he saw the mesh thong he gave me a wicked smile, telling me I should know better than to keep em on, and that I'd need to be punished for that. Rather than tugging them down, he grabbed the front with two fingers, ripping a giant hole in the front and tugging my cock through. It was rock hard now, and he teased my foreskin back, rolling it down the shaft to expose the cap of my blunt banana. I was dripping sweat and precum in anticipation. He expertly parted my cocklips with his fingers, pulling down until they pouted wide, and forced the blunt silver head in, pushing hard until the long metal prong sunk deep into my shaft, making me gasp involuntarily. He kept pressing until his thumb grazed my cocklips, forcing the ball end into the slit, and wormed his thumb a little more, splitting the lips wide as he mashed the prong in another fraction. It didn't just tear at my cockhead, but made my cock and bladder both uncomfortably full. But he wasn't done yet - still gripping my foreskin tightly, he wrapped the chain around my exposed glans with his other hand, in three loops that made the flesh bulge slightly, trapped by the chain. Then he let go of my foreskin, now jammed behind the chain, and tugged the remaining short leash downwards, while he smeared foreskin cheese from the first hand over my cupped balls, pulling them down in a sudden gut wrenching jerk. He wrapping the chain around the mesh-covered ballbag as many times and as tightly as he could, trapping my nads low and tight in their pouch, lastly threading the end through a loop and pulling hard, cinching the chain in place. It was exquisitely obscene - my cock spung out of the mesh, pink and veiny against the dark netting, but was almost doubled over itself, my exposed and tender bound cockhead yanked between my legs until the pisslips hovered inches from my ballbag, tethered low and tight in their material confines. My cock, which had softened a little from the pain, now began to stiffen again, impossible in that position, putting me in a nut-aching half-hard bind. And the pressure, combined with the knowledge I couldn't get an erection, made me even more horny, hot and bothered.
But Joey had more. He spun me around, pressing two fingers against my sphincter. "I really wanna fuck you like this" he purred, worming his way into my arse with careless rough force. I begged him to let up, but he pushed me forward, making me brace against the cistern, shaved pits high, while he flogged his monster prong with long slapping strokes, and teased my pucker open with his fingers. I wasn't ready, underdressed and trussed, in a grimy stall in the middle of the city, but he felt like a fuck, and that was it. There were guys at the urinals chatting, and I had to bite my tongue as he pressed the cockhead against my pucker, pressing hard and forcing it to open wide. But rather than plunge in, he kept stoking his stalk, just fucking the head millimeters in and out, forcing the sphincter to stretch and contract, never quite in or out. He reached around, grabbing my face by forcing his arseslimed fingers into my jaws and jerking my head back. He put his head near my ear, whispered "fuck you're tight", and then gripped me hard, as an orgasm washed over his body, and he started pumping spurt after spurt of hot cream into my arsecrack around the just-pierced hole. In that moment of searing pain of his first flesh fuck, I realised Joey breaking me would be no quick hard buttrape, but a slow and methodical tearing through me, in as many humiliating steps as he could manage.
So here I was, really fucking uncomfortable, sitting on a bar stool, legs spread wide, interlocked with Joeys and Robs under the table. Every couple of minutes, without breaking their conversation, Rob would pause in his feed to squeeze my trapped balls hard in his greasy fingers, making my trapped banana throb, which tented my now sopping shorts like a fucking faucet down my pants. I sucked on my vodka soda to hide my intake of breath, the only thing I was allowed to have, despite my hunger. And the tall glasses on an empty stomach were making me woozy and pressing on my already stuffed bladder. After a few drinks I was pretty buzzed, really needed to hang a piss, and it was dark out, so i was itching to go and get my gear back from the uptown mansion. I really didn't want to get pawed by two fags, but given how I was manhandled by Joey and Rod, I figured I could handle myself, plus I was still a helluva lot stronger and more muscular than them, so I could take care of myself. Finally, the two boys cleared off their stools, and I stood there, hopping from one foot to another, ready for them to leave me so I could take a piss somehow and high tail it to the mansion. Rod looked me up and down, hopping from one foot to another trying to stave off my piss hard. "Fuck man, we can't let you go across town dressed like that" he said "we'll give you a lift." Even though I was deperate to piss, I was grateful for the ride, and hightailing my wet cumspattered arse behind them, I followed the two jocks out of the bar and to his truck.
When we got there, I waited around the side of the cab while Rob rummaged around in his kit bag for something for me to wear. Joey was holding me against him in a possessive date embrace, and had shucked my tank up so he could 'fondle my puppies' - mauling my hairy pecs in his hand. It was making me painfully hard in my shorts, and when Rob looked like he'd found what he was looking for, he slid his hand further up, pulling my tank over my head. I put my hands up to help him, soon standing bare chested in the street, grateful for better clothes. But I was wrong. Rod looked me in the eye, telling me he didn't want homo cupslop on his seats, and holding out a dog collar on a chain. I was confused, but Joey grabbed me in a half nelson, dragging me to the tray and half marching me up. Rod clipped the old dog collar to the rear window crossbar, and buckled it around my neck before climbing into the driver's seat. Joey, who was still over me on the tray table, grabbed a rope and tied one of my hands between my ankles, forcing me into an awkward crouch, my knees against my chest, cock now jammed against my roped hand. "There you go" Joey said as he jumped down and made for the cab "you can keep a grip on the cross bar now for balance". I realised with horror that all the world would see me, a half naked punk guy in a crouch, his tattooed muscular arm punched high like a statement, broad hairy chest exposed to the elements, while my own tortured dick and balls bumped and ground against my clenched other fist wildly. "yeah man" I heard Joey say to Rod as they got in "this way we can make sure they know exactly what they can do..."
Although plenty of people saw me in my 'pride stance', most of the looks were lustful, and I was pretty proud of my man's body so I loosed up again. That didn't last though when we got to the place, and Joey untied me from the truck. They decided to leave the dog collar on, undoing the clip and wrapping the chain around my wrists behind me instead. I tried to beg them to stop - I couldn't defend myself, and who knows who the fuck these guys were. "Guys" I pleaded "this ain't a joke - how bout we just go home and get our kicks there..." I was scared, this was going way further than just a bit of flaunting and fucking between men. But they'd hustled me to the door, and when it opened, Rob got down to business, telling the grinning queen at the door how it was gonna be. "So he's $1000 bucks for the night, half now, half in the morning when we pick him up. You look after him - he's our friend - so no damage, unless of course you count a bit of arse ripping from a double fuck or something. That's cool, we're trying to stretch him out anyways. Is it a deal?" My jaw had dropped. I was being whored out for a double fuck? The muscle mary smiled thinly, putting one hand on my hairy pec, fingers tweaking the nub. I groaned involuntarily, bucking against his grip, but Joey held me firm, and I relented. "Well , seems like fair terms. We always wanted to break in a colt. Now, why don't you bring him in while I get my wallet..."
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