Hypnotized Male Temple Prostitute

In the last week of May, 1979, before the bogeyman Aids, and on a Friday, of course, I was laid off from work; I had already lined up a new job that didn't start until the first week of September, so I was in the perfect position to live out a purely disgusting and promiscuous summer. I am a cum slut; I have no moral conflict-I want to suck off as many cocks as possible, anonymously, one after another.

The following Monday, I made my way to the Garden Theater on the North Side to indulge totally. It was an old, giant movie house that now played stale heterosexual porn in the main theater upstairs and down below, in a much smaller area, gay porn on a large TV screen, and in an adjacent, dark room men gathered to either suck cock or be sucked-and sometimes to fuck or be fucked in an anonymous blanket of dark, spoiled only by a dimly defiant exit sign that would mysteriously be turned off around 8 PM.

Unusually warm and humid, even late in the day, so I wore only a mid-cut t-shirt and thin, silky short shorts, no underwear and a tight cock ring about my cock and balls. My package would be obvious.

I parked three blocks away on a side street and sat in the car and smoked a bowl of hash. And it was exceptional. I experienced a shaky, discombobulated body stone and, as I stepped out of my car, I had to concentrate on locking the door. I was ripped and rid of any and all inhibitions. I wobbled as I turned to walk away and I giggled.

Carefully, I made my way down the street with twilight slowly creeping about. Purely from anticipation, my cock hardened as I walked toward the theater; an elderly black couple passed me -my cock prominently outlined through the sheer silky cloth of the shorts, bending left and leaking pre-cum- and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw both of them glance at my cock's bulge and the small pre-cum stain beginning to appear. That so excited me, and along with the idea of starting my summer cock feast, I was about to explode.

Once inside, I quickly went down the steps, into the room. Darkness would prevent eyes from seeing me kneel and take cock after cock down my throat, or bend over and take cock after cock up my ass. A dark comfortable blanket of anonymity filled me with courage. To indulge completely in ravenous, overwhelming, male lust, to crave profoundly to consume load after load of cum defined my identity as a cum slut. The others within this dark room were males not unlike me, each indulging in a common, elemental lust, each seeking a quick fix for an unruly, erect cock, each espousing a collective motto-a hard cock has no conscious.

My shorts, cowered about my ankles; my right hand slowly stroking my erection as I leaned against the wall. Vague forms slowly came into view as my eyes adjusted to the dark in the humid and fetid air; the smell of cum filled my nostrils, along with the air that tasted like freshly fucked ass; a chorus of aromas of unwashed ass, cock and body odor, an evolving rhythm blending and countering the competing sounds that formed a complex melody: slurping cock-sucking sounds, low groaning of males being sucked swirled about in my head like a halleluiah chorus, and my chest heaved in and out as breathing quickened, fantasy deepened. Helpless, awaiting to be taken and used, I felt a presence behind me, and then a hand coming up from behind, through my crotch, and roughly cupping and gripping my balls. Squeezing them, the hand's face came down to the side of my head-his words spilled into my ears.

"You're a cum slut, right?" he asked as his whiskey and beer breath wafted about my face. An alcohol fueled Master can be extremely dangerous, but equally as exciting.

"Yes, sir," I instinctively said, my tone of voice revealing my slave-like presence, my body trembling, my cock throbbing, my balls aching as he continued to squeeze. He brought my left hand back to greet his rock hard cock; it was over two fistfuls long and my fingers barely touched as I gripped its steel spring-like bearing. I felt his left hand grab my cock and his other hand squeeze my balls until I was up on my tiptoes. Breaking, surrendering to his touch, wanting him to take complete control, for what he would do was what I wished and craved.

"Oh, good," his deep male voice murmured, "you're a submissive cum slut, I see your cock jumps in my hand as I squeeze your balls-you're a pain slut, also. Oh, yes, you and I were made for each other; an evening is before us that will stuff you with exactly what you most deeply crave. Hollow men like you are ravenous and never are filled; a black hole is at the center of your soul, sucking in whatever sexuality passes by you.

"You begin a decent into hell or heaven, depending on viewpoint. "

Over my ash-white, curvy booty his hard, large hand explored and gripped until his fingers creased my ass cheeks' slit and his middle digit found my asshole, skimming over its sticky surface, and then bringing it to my mouth.

Opening my lips immediately, he delivered it as far back into my mouth as he could go; against the wall, the left side of my face smudged against it, on tiptoes, my cock squirming in ecstasy-and my ass tasted on his finger; I eagerly swallowed my saliva.

"Exactly what you want, yes sir, you love that taste. Jamming your nose into my mid-drift, I'll shove my cock down your throat until you gag for life, give you a mouthful of air and gag you again...and again...and again far into the night, until I bore of gagging and choking you. I'll ram my cock up your ass until you feel it choking you, splitting your body with my piercing 9" devil-cock. I can go and go all night, hard as a steel beam, ever lustful of pounding you every moment, ruling your very breath, your every thought, owning more than your mouth and ass, possessing you like a devil -your very soul. And when I need a break, I'll use my belt as a leash about your neck and walk you about as a cum slut trophy for every man in here to take a piece of you."

Images formed, lust enraged, my will was in his hands because he knew my fantasies within my head. Fear, lust and excitement mixing a potent cocktail, guzzling it without hesitation- drunk with a lust beyond description, I tried to capture my sanity, only to have him hold a small bottle to my nose and command me to inhale over and over the poppers' potent fumes-and I did, deeply, repetitively until he took it away. Then, he removed my t-shirt and shorts. Standing there with only sandals and a cock ring, I sensed a crowd of other cocks hovering about me.

The Rush, along with the Hash high, spun the darkness into a fevered hallucinogenic imagining. [Once, I had a several week affair with a queer professor, and he had told me I was probably a reincarnated temple prostitute from one of the Canaanite fertility religions who were used by men, religious pilgrims seeking a gift from the fertility god Baal, circa around the time of Judges. There were male and female prostitutes, and he was sure I was a young male religious whore.]

His finger found my ass and it was as if he was trying to reach up inside me, retreating, advancing, over and over to invisible body rhythms only I could hear and taste. His finger left my ass and I immediately missed its presence, but found it in my mouth, and he said, "Suck it clean, fag, suck it like you mean it. Yeah, that's a boy, get it all; now you know you were born for this, knitted by lust itself in your mother's womb, made for being a cocksucker and a cum slut, a dirty bottom feeding whore whose soul belongs to me. Isn't that right, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," I meekly said.

"This is my slut, boys; know what I mean?" he began, speaking to the others about me, "but I am not selfish. He likes it all, but please don't harm him or piss on or in him-at least not yet-there's always later, after hours out in the alley."

Mild laughter and hands began to touch me all over. Hands spread my ass cheeks and a face with an amazing tongue found my asshole and began licking and sucking it; hands on my shoulders brought me forward so Sir's cock found my face, then my open mouth. Hands fought to stroke my cock, which when the tongue pierced my sphincter, exploded a stream of cum that seemed to last forever-and I felt I was flying. Without fanfare his cock found its way down my throat-and then with his hands gripping my head, he violently face-fucked me; his entire 9" forcing its way from my lips to my gullet in a pounding sledgehammer metaphor-and this image swirled about in my mind's eye.

Two men held my arms and shoulders as two men lifted me off the ground, my ass flying behind me as two or more hands applied lubrication around and in my ass just before a cock pushed unceremoniously into my asshole and joined Sir's rhythmic assault on my face. Flying..."there's a place down in Mexico where a man can fly over mountains and hills and he don't need no plane or engine and he never will"...lust, Rush and cum had me hypnotized. So, yes, I was flying for what I see and feel. Seems like a dream. Have I been and gone? Yes, yes, yes.

*****

If my humble words spark an erection, let me know, let me know if ya like my words.