A gay story: Slutty Male Fuck Toy How did I get here? How is it I am kneeling, taking two hard cocks in my mouth simultaneously while I also have 1 in each hand, a man underneath me forcing his cock into my well moistened asshole while yet another pushes me forward to try and push his rampant member up my slutty ass as well? Was I destined, predetermined by some sex god, to end up like this? I don’t really know, nor do I care at this point!
Well to explain it I suppose I have to go back quite a way in time. So let me start about two years ago. Back then I was considerably closer to 350 pounds than I wanted to be, although I had started an exercise regimen on my own, to lose the weight. Other than my weight you should know what I look like, I am 6′ tall, have brown curly hair that falls naturally, when long, in ringlets, have hazel green eyes that change color with my mood and am a black belt in a very old style of martial arts.
Anyhow, about two years ago I accidentally clicked on the wrong room link while looking for a chat room to go into. Instead of a BDSM chat room I ended up in a men for men chat room. I was about to leave it when a gentleman in the room asked me a question, not being the type to ignore something asked of me, I answered him.
I completely forgot my surroundings while talking to this gentleman and ended up speaking to him, over the course of 1 week, nearly every day. Speaking to him was almost hypnotic, somewhat addictive even, and without even noticing it the need to please him, to obey him, overcame me.
Not at first, but eventually, his conversation turned sexual. It was so natural by that point, we spoke of everything anyway, that it did not even faze me when he started asking about my sexual desires, experiences and needs. I, of course, asked similar questions of him the first of which was why he asked the questions of me in the first place.
His answer to my first question was as obvious as it was expected: he wanted to have sex with me and he was looking to see exactly what that would take. Imagine a big, hairy, straight guy like myself actually even speaking to someone about gay sex this comfortably. I don’t even talk about sex to my best friends this comfortably. Hell, I don’t even talk about sex at all to them.
It was so out of character for me to talk about sex period—let alone with some nameless, faceless, gay guy trying to hit on me through the internet. Perhaps that is the reason though, after all I was not competing with him for women and he was, indeed, nameless and faceless to me.
Was I dominant, submissive or switch? What attracted me? To men? To women? Did I like watersports? Was I into bondage? Discipline? Enemas? Rubber? Leather? Lace? Satin? Suffocation? Imprisonment? Animals? Knife play? Handcuffs? Restraints? Rope? Being used as furniture? Golden showers? What kind of scenes (scenarios) did I like to engage in? Threesomes? Foursomes? Group sex? Forced sex? Consentual?
The questions went back and forth. We must have spoken of every subject, kink, perversion or whatnot under the sun. By the time we had finished speaking that night we probably knew each other better than the lovers either of us had had in the past.
It was also that day/night that we learned we each lived in the same general area as the other, not only the same state, but the same region within it. Of course being as careful as I am I did not get too specific. It would not have done good to have someone I’ve never met showing up on my doorstep to have their way with me.
Although I had never met him, and doubted I ever would, we still continued to talk like old friends, albeit I knew he wished to seduce me. Still he wanted to speak to me verbally, or, even better, meet face to face. Amazingly what he said seemed so normal even though the subject matter was anything but, and, sure enough he convinced me to meet him face to face (although it did take him quite a while to do so).
He sure wasn’t what I expected. Let’s face it you meet someone online you expect what—mousy geeks, serial killers in training, wimpy shy type individuals down to the last, right? Not even close! Now I know I am big enough to scare most people, though, after losing 150 pounds so far probably not as scary as I used to be, but this guy was just plain big. At nearly 6’5″ tall with shoulder length chestnut brown hair and a barrel chest attached to legs which had thighs the size of fireplugs Master Mike was any woman’s wet dream come to life, but he wasn’t here for them. He’d come to meet me.
I suppose I should never have told him how much it turns me on to be dominated, as well as forced, into obeying a woman. The first thing he did after meeting me was to force me into his car and away we went.
I started to speak but instead he just “shhhhhh”ed me and, reaching into the center console, pulled out a full face mask with cutouts for the eyes (although they were covered over currently), the nose (unblocked) and the mouth (currently unzippered). As he handed me the mask he told me to put it on.
Once it was on I realized that the part around the neck cinched tightly and that there was a place for a padlock. I had just barely gotten the mask on when, thinking he was not ready to show me where he lived ( Yes, I know, but what can I say I was naïve?). His hands moved quickly, or so it seemed, after something sprayed into my face from the passenger’s side of the dashboard.
Shortly after the spray hit me directly on my nasal passages everything seemed to slow down for me and speed up around me. So, not surprisingly, I barely realized he’d moved before my hands were behind me and the handcuffs were on them.
With my hands handcuffed behind my back it was a simple matter of leverage to push my head towards the thick, medium-length cock that Master Mike had pulled through the zipper in his pants. I tried to resist, at first, but resistance was futile. If I moved too much he just pushed all the harder, and, of course, I did not want to attract the wrong type of attention—like cops (though the thought had crossed my mind). Once his cock was in my mouth, however, things changed dramatically.
I figured after I was going down on him it would be a simple matter to assert my position. After all, I would have a powerful jaw and a very sharp set of teeth less than an inch from his cock. The reality was, though, that once that rampant member was between my lips I suddenly had an itch that could and would only be soothed by the release of copious amounts of cum sliding down my throat and filling my stomach.
He held my head to him initially but soon enough he could tell by my motions, my sounds, and my expression that I was not going to pull off of him anytime soon. How can anyone understand, at least until they have done it, what it feels like to have a long, thick, rigid, warm, throbbing member down their throat? Somehow the mere thought of it repulsed me that is until I was actually forced — albeit mostly by my own fault— into it.
Driving down the road with Master Mike was an “eye opening” experience—even though I could not see currently. He seemed to take delight in showing off his “newest slut” as he called me. Whenever we pulled along someone who could see into the vehicle I heard all sorts of shouts and noises while Master Mike simultaneously forced me harder down on to his cock making me gag every time in the process.
The ride seemed to last forever but by the time it was over I no longer cared. It seemed as if my mind was no longer mine as I followed him rather submissively when he attached the leash to my face mask and pushed me on to all fours. Like a loyal dog I followed my Master awaiting his every word.
Master Mike cut my clothes off as soon as the door creaked closed behind me and thudded shut.
“Burn them,” he said, “he won’t need them ever again.”
Suddenly something wet and cold was pushed against my now viewable and accessible ass. It moved not like anything human, and I was right in that assessment, as I realized it was Master Mike’s dog. Of course I’d heard of him by now, after all the conversations we’d had previously I was more than aware of Zeus—and how Zeus has assisted Master Mike with his past slaves—he was as fierce as he could be gentle.
“Not now Zeus,” said Master Mike, “if he gets out of hand I’ll let you know.” Finally I took the breath I had not realized that I’d been holding. My body, as it began to relax, stopped creating the heavy sheen of sweat, not to mention the smell, my nervousness had created previously.
“Come,” I heard, shortly followed by a tug on my leash.
I followed without question, although one was running through it currently. Somehow Master Mike must have sensed it.
“And, to answer your unspoken question, yes. Zeus has assisted me before with slaves, though you have no need to worry about that if you obey like a good little slut,” he continued.
The worst of thoughts had been running through my mind. Kinky, horrible, abnormal thoughts like “How did Zeus help with those slaves? As security? As killer? As sexual partner?” To be honest I never really got any direct answer, his answer was at best vague and at the worst unthinkable.
A tug came suddenly to my leash when I realized I’d stopped but not at his command. Breathing heavily I continued to follow my leash holder. Master Mike led for I know not how long but eventually he told me to “sit” and “stay” as if I was a dog like his beloved Zeus.
Whatever possessed me to do it I don’t know, but I sat back on my heels and then leaned forward with my hands outstretched and palms upturned in front of me. The submissive pose I’d assumed came surprisingly naturally and I stayed in that pose until I was told otherwise.
The flogger’s falls landed upon my exposed back and ass without the slightest warning. Not a sound did I make after the initial shock for fear of angering Master Mike. Repeatedly and with great force I was flogged.
Suddenly, and though the flogging continued, something large, tapered and made of glass was inserted into my ass. Whatever it was was cold, wet and full—at least until it was tipped forward and the liquid inside began to fill my ass. The liquid, as well as it container, gave me a rather full feeling but also, somehow, seemed to have the effect of also arousing me simultaneously.
My member, as if it wasn’t already hard enough, seemed to get even harder, even longer, even thicker, than I thought I could ever get. The second set of hands, or maybe another unseen set, then strapped my cock into something, which, from the feel of it only, seemed made to shape, contain and control it. The pain of constriction was incredible as my rampant member appeared to be forced through some type of heavy molded plastic tubing which had a bend to it. Then, after I was in this contraption, my balls were encased in a form fitting sac, it felt like a very tight cross between spandex and rubber, that had weights attached to it at the bottom.
When the vibration started to go through every part of my cock, reverberating through this unique devise, I felt the need, the pressure of release but due to the devise I was unable to cum. Once it was on I was lifted up and attached to what, through feel alone, seemed to be a padded saw horse. Then, once I was restrained properly, the whole unit turned 90 degrees so that the bottle in my ass was now beneath me—although it had to be held there its weight was trying to pull it out.
Suddenly, rather forcefully, the bottle was pulled from my now somewhat expanded asshole and I evacuated everything in bowels. Once this was done something else, it felt like a thick hose, was inserted and my insides were sprayed over and over until someone commented that there was nothing but water coming out my ass now.
“Don’t worry,” Master Mike said, “we just wanted you to be fully cleaned because that way you will have more room to accommodate all the cum that is about to be pumped into your ass slut!”
I knew little then about the cocktail that had been put into me when that bottle was inserted into me. However, now that I know what was in it, and given my current position and status in life, I no longer care that I was, at the time, being force fed the equivalent of a Viagra and X cocktail. You see the quickest way for something to be absorbed into the bloodstream is through the thin membranes in the anal passage.
I wondered at how much was going to be put into me but it was a question both unspoken and answered very shortly. As I was lowered back to the original position of the bench I sensed more than felt at this point that, I was no longer in the presence of 2-3 people but considerably more. The sudden brightness, like powerful spotlights being shined on me, along with the stifling heat and moisture in the air all led me to the impression I had in my head. I was not wrong and I knew this for certain when I was untied and lifted off of the saw horse I was on and placed on my knees.
My hands were filled with warm, thick, pulsing members while someone, over whom I must have been lowered originally, inserted his insistent priapus into my ass and another of his friends pushed his into my mouth. This was not enough to satisfy the lustful desires of those around me however. Next came a 2nd cock being pushed inside my mouth while still another tried the same thing but in my ass as well.
And that is how I ended up in this position. Was it destiny? Who knows? I know I don’t care anymore—as long as I have people to satisfy their lusts by using my body, and/or me theirs, which is all this male submissive slut whore needs now or ever will.