by Keith Hernandez
On the ride home I was in a cock-fog. My jaw ached and the sharp taste of Scott's jizz was fresh in my mouth. I had just been humiliated in the mall and forced to give head, but I found myself confused by my feelings. I looked at Scott's big hands on the steering wheel and something like lust suddenly welled up inside me. I found myself wanting to touch his hands, to kiss them, to lick them, to suck on his thick manly fingers.
I tried to shake myself out of it, but the feeling of hating Scott and having a crush on him at the same time, were tumbling around in my gut. Scott started to talk, and my eyes wandered from his hands to his muscular thighs.
"The thing I like about you is that you don't want it," Scott said. "I can fuck chicks anytime I want. Not a challenge. And queers? Please. They are even easier to get."
I was distracted and just nodded. I felt the bizarre desire to lay my head in his lap, to just rest my head on his thigh, letting my head touch his crotch.
His crotch...I blushed with shame thinking about what was packed into his jeans. I felt my dick stir. I hadn't cum in a long time.
"But you...you are so...so reluctant. Every time. And I
still
get it off of you," he said, looking at me with a smug grin. "I know you're at least half straight. You got that pretty fiancee Gina...and you still suck my cock. You
still
respect the big cock. You still have to give it up to a real man. I gotta tell ya it's a real ego boost."
He was right. Hearing Gina's name hurt but it snapped me out of it a little bit as we turned down my street.
The Bath
Scott pulled into my drive and waltzed into my house with me trailing behind. He kicked off his shoes and made himself at home like he owned the place. I suppose it was only natural since he was always the dominant one in the relationship. He was always in charge. As if to drive that last point home, he told me to go take a bath and do some "maintenance."
I knew what that meant—he wanted me to shave myself baby-ass smooth and prep my rectum for the ass-fucking that was sure to come sooner or later. As much as I hated enemas and being pube-less, a bath did sound pretty good, and I would enjoy a chance to relax. I started to shave, starting with my armpits, chest, and arms. I always went from top to bottom. I was finishing up my privates when Scott walked in. I sank back into the water quickly but he stopped me.
"No keep going—I mean it." He had a dead-serious look but I was embarrassed to have to keep shaving right in front of him.
He pulled out his cock, bulbous and thick even when soft, and started to pee. The sound of him pissing was completely different than me. He sounded like a race-horse, his stream pounding the water loud and long compared to my little tinkle-stream. To add to my shame, I had to stand up and put one of my legs up and spread in order to get my taint. Scott turned and watched as I bent over awkwardly in front of him and shaved my crack and around my butthole.
"Don't miss anything. I don't want a single hair on that pussy, you hear?"
"Yes." I said meekly, going around my anus a second time and then carefully feeling myself to make sure I was 100% clean.
"Spread it wide," Scott said. "I wanna see how you did back there." Deeply ashamed, I still did as he said, putting my head down and bending over for him, turning my ass towards Scott as he towered over me. Reluctantly, I reached back and spread my meaty cheeks.
"Nice...your ass is amazing. Don't ever stop with the squats bro...looks squeaky clean. Good enough to eat."
"Ha ha," I said, dreading the mere thought of Scott eating me out. "Get out of here and let me finish in peace please." I sank beneath the water and looked up at him without a hint of assertiveness.
"All right all right, don't forget those legs now, you hear?"
I shaved my legs, used the loofa on my body, rubbed oil on my skin, and was reclining in the warm water when Scott burst in, holding a handful of my clothes.
"What the fuck is this?" Scott barked, his brow furrowed in anger. My mouth fell open but no words came out. "I said jockstraps only. Straps only!" He shook his fist until my shirt and sweatpants fell to the floor, leaving only my boxer-briefs.
"I guess it's lesson-teaching time then," he said, reaching into the tub and pulling me up and out, sloshing water onto the floor. I had not followed his instructions about only wearing a jock. I was about to regret it, as he planted himself on the toilet and spread his legs, pulling me roughly over his lap and twisting my arm behind my back.
I was dripping all over the floor and my wet ass was upturned and completely vulnerable.
"I forgot! Wait! I just forgot!" I lied, trying to save myself as my toes slipped helplessly on the tile. Scott was so much bigger and stronger than me that I was completely in his control. With one powerful arm he held me in place. I was still trying to talk my way out of it when the first blow fell on my wet cheek.
CRACK!
It felt like he struck my ass with all his strength—I cried out as my head jerked up, the first of many shrieks which would escape my lips.
CRACK! CRACK!
He began to spank me like a little bitch, swatting me with his big heavy hand. The wetness of my ass seemed to make it more painful, and my nakedness made it all the more emasculating. The sound of his wet ass-slapping and my howls of pain and protest filled the bathroom.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!