Thirty One Days - Chapter 12


Female silhouetteThis erotic sex story published on Apr 7, 2014 was written by Ronan Jackson Jefferson and is from our Sex Story Series section.
You can contact the author at Rojackjeff@hotmail.com. You can also Print This Tale or Email it to a Friend.
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"This is the 12th part of the story Thirty One Days, a challenge that involves sex, thirty-one women, and will take 31 days"

NOTE: This is the 12th Chapter of the story, You may wish to read Chapter 1 first.

The chemical crashed hard against me. My knees completely buckled, I fell back hitting the cot with my bare ass. The blood was leaving my extremities and charging towards my skull and cock. My head pounded. I could see my cock throbbing. I was flat on my back, not a clue as to how I got here. The tipped up lighting slashed off the mirrors and blinded me. I felt my stomping boots being pulled from my feet. Then my leather pants were taken off.

Surrender was coming for me. I could barely see. I blinked to clear my eyes. The room was so bright, the lights buzzing on overload power. I felt I might sunburn in here, it was so hot. I looked through squinted eyes. Stevie was holding a large tube of something in his hand. He was squirting liquid onto his fingers. With his black leathered legs, he pushed my bare knees apart. I felt a cool sensation on my ass.

Christ sakes! He was greasing me!

WTF?

This was a blow job. Him on me.

No.

No way.

I tried to take back some control, and pushed up off the cot.

Crack!

I fell back, flattened.

My left ear was on fire!

What the hell?

Stevie slapped me?

You scrawny son of a bitch!

I tried to push forward. My head was reeling from the slap and the surrender of chemical coursing through me. Overwhelming me. I lifted off the cot. Sort of.

Crack!

This time, the faggot actually punched me in the mouth!

With a full fist!

My lip split and blood ran warm as I flailed backwards. I could see red spatters on my heaving chest.

What the hell was he doing!

Stevie yanked me up by the hair, pulling me forward into a near sitting position. His blue bottle was in my nose. I heard the pump being activated, smelled the chemical, and felt a hand clamp over my mouth. I pulled at his hand, but inexplicably, I had no strength.

“Suck it in deep, Davey boy. Suck it in deep. Be a man.”

What choice did I have?

Inhale it, or suffocate at his hand. I inhaled, his chemical on top of mine, and began to float away into my cock. My cock seemed to be my only reason for being. What a phenomena. I was a human cock. Only seeking release. Only seeking pleasure.

Stevie reached to the wall to grab the dog collar. He fitted it around my neck. Clicked it shut. A mental draining sensation pulled the will out of me.

Damn.

The collar.

“There, same as last time.”

Stevie roughly threw me back against the cot. My head slammed against the glass wall. I thought the mirror would break. I felt no pain when my skull bounced off the mirror. The surrender was flooding me. Nearly drowning me. For a second I clawed at my neck, desperate to remove the collar. I didn’t want the collar. I couldn’t have the collar. Visions of Pit Bull Man filled my mind.

What if he saw me with this collar?

What if…?

I stopped clawing at my neck and fell into full surrender. I felt the cot groan as Stevie climbed aboard. The cool swipe was back at my ass. I felt a probing. Following by an uncomfortable penetration.

“One finger,” Stevie cooed.

More penetration. Thicker this time.

Two fingers, girl,” I heard him whisper.

Girl?

Who the fuck was he calling a girl?

More cool grease.

“Domination girl. Me over you, again,” he stated in a mocking tone.

He was pouring the grease to my ass.

The penetration was thicker yet. Very uncomfortable.

“Three fingers. How do you like it?” Stevie asked, mischief in his voice.

My brain was barely registering.

What was this?

Three fingers in my ass?

Girl?

He was calling me a girl?

Stop this! I am not a fucking girl!

“Stop,” I tried.

I felt his bony fist crack my nose. Not much pain, but the punch from above rocked my head. There would be pain in the morning.

What was with the violence?

Why was I helpless to prevent it?

Or fight back?

What the hell was wrong with me?

What the hell was wrong with him?

Then it flew through my brain. S & M Club. S & M, asshole. This is what they do in here. Beat you and fuck you. You got out easy last time. Not this time.

Remember.

The warnings.

Two warnings.

The guy at the door, and the guy who is right this second, turning you into a cunt.

My legs were pushed wide and back towards me. I felt his two hands on mine, moving my hands underneath my thighs. He slipped his fingers under my wet ass. A full on probe was pushing at my hole.

He smothered me with his body weight. All one hundred and forty pounds. The pressure on my throbbing cock was enormous. I was ready to blow any second.

Stevie’s hot breath was in my ear. Then his tongue. Goose bumps ran down my spine. The goose bumps ran straight to my cock. His tongue was on my lips, lapping at my spilled blood. Biting at my mouth, bringing fresh blood. He greedily sucked at my blood, a skinny white vampire. I tried to moan my pain. My mouth hurt like hell, but his tongue was in my mouth, and I kissed him passionately. Saliva and blood.

What was wrong with me?

Frenching this son of a bitch faggot who was beating the shit out of me?

I tried to move my hands from my thighs and raise them, tried to fight back, but my hands and arms were dead weights.

My cock owned the night. My cock was everything. The rest of my beaten self was in full submission. This faggot ruled me. Owned my body and soul. The full court pressure on my sphincter said he was about to own my ass.

How useless and pathetic was I?

Why did I think I could go through with this?

Why the fuck did I come in here?

The sick kissing stopped as Stevie pulled away. I was left panting, slobbering, hungering for more. Needing more.

Then. The most upsetting question of my life, was asked of me.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Davey?”

From the bottom of the submission barrel, what choice did I have?

And why was this faggot calling me Davey?

Three fingers and a tub of grease were already pushed into me. I was bitch-slapped and punched and unable to respond in kind. My stuttering brain came up with one word regarding this question.

Rhetorical.

I simply nodded.

Get it over with, you fucking queer.

“Do you mean yes?” he mocked.

I nodded again.

My cock pounded. If I didn’t get off soon, I would either explode or get lost in my cock forever.

“You have to tell me what you want. You are a virgin pussy, Davey, you have to ask me for it. Otherwise, it would be rape.”

No way was I going to ask him for it. Not in an S & M Club. Not anywhere. No way was I going to beg him to fuck me. I knew it was going to go down, regardless.

It’s your stupid game, asshole.

I am not playing.

Mexican standoff.

I could feel the heavy pressure at my back door. He was poised and ready.

Abruptly, the pressure left my ass. I felt a wet, heavenly suction on my cock. I looked up to see why. I was able to see Stevie’s mouth, his thick, wet, girlie lips, sliding down my overstuffed shaft. I was taken aback at the sight of my cock. It was nearly purple. The veins stood out, ready to burst. Stevie was sliding down. Lower. Lower. I could see his throat bulge as my engorged bell was swallowed. Stevie kept going. His lips were kissing at my bush. All of me was in his throat! Unbelievable. This was one professional cocksucker! The feeling!

Anything resembling resistance bled from me. Bled through the pleasure sensors in my cock.

“Fuck me. Yes. Fuck me. Please,” I moaned through swollen, bloodied lips.

There. You win.

Stevie pulled off my cock. His saliva and my pre cum dripped from his mouth.

The pressure immediately returned to my ass and ramped up. Pressure, pressure, and then a violent, tearing pop! His bell pushed into me! I gasped in pain. Extreme pain. I was about to cry out when he cracked my face again. A near knockout punch.

My head flopped to the side, ringing from ear to ear.

“Don’t you dare make a sound. Take it like a man.”

He clamped a bony hand over my mouth. To keep me quiet. The pain of the tearing, despite all of the lube, was monumental. Nearly unbearable. I could feel every millimeter of penetration as my tight hole clamped down on his cock. He pushed deeper into me. Christ. It felt as if his cock was a foot long, and a foot wide. He pulled back, and then went in even deeper. The sensation of being full, the sensation of exploding through my own skin, was unbelievable. I bit down on his fingers, to survive the searing pain.

“Uggggggggggghhhhh,” was what came out of my mouth.

“Listen to me Davey,” Stevie said, slapping at my face, commanding attention.

“Don’t fight it. In fact, push down on my cock. As if you were taking a shit. Push down and accept it. Otherwise, I will tear you to shreds.”

What was he talking about?

Accept it?

Whatever. It was either accept or die. The cool grease on my ass became a full out firestorm. I pushed down on his cock as he pushed in. I thought I would shit all over the place. I couldn’t, because his cock was plugging me solid. I pushed hard, his cock must have sunk six inches into me. A streak of pleasure shot from my ass to my balls and up the shaft of my cock. I would never have expected such a sensation, not in a million years.

Not entirely true.

There was a bit of a track record.

All in the past.

As Stevie shoved his cock in and out, both the firestorm and those streaks of pleasure increased. My cock seemed to extend from my asshole to my knob. Sixteen inches long. Sickly, and mostly unaware, I was able to develop a rhythm to go with his thrusting. A survival rhythm. Push down and go with him, or have my ass shredded. I recalled this exact situation from my life before. Charlene and that asshole Danny.

My two old friends disappeared into a cloud of pain and pleasure. Stevie was pounding me hard enough to shake the cot. I hadn’t moved a muscle in the rest of my body since he entered me, but my head and shoulders were bouncing off the back wall. I felt the sear of pain on my butt cheeks. Stevie dug his fingers in deep and was actually pulling my hips forward to meet his thrusts.

I tried to open my eyes. They were both battered and swollen from his fists. I did manage to get one eye open. The light was searing around the room, blasting off every available mirrored surfaced. Stevie was mounted over me, fucking me into a pussy rag doll, my fast numbing ass slamming up against his groin. Which meant his entire cock was penetrating me. I saw my legs folded towards me, my own hands holding them apart.

The sounds coming out of my mouth?

I heard those exact sounds many, many times. The sounds my women would make. When I was destroying their pussies, and their asses. Women in pain, sounds. Women in pleasure, sounds. Now, my sounds. Holy gay embarrassment. So damn loud, too.

A big show I was putting on for the hallway cruisers. Bragging to them all, I was being fucked by the leather pants boy.

I could barely see my cock. Pointing directly at me. Heavy and full. Slick and shiny, the knob was pulsing with my heart beat. I was mesmerized by the sight of my gorgeous member. I tried to look up, squinting again at the searing light.

Why was it this bright?

I vaguely remembered holes in the walls. There must be an audience to my depravity, probably on both sides. Stevie’s head was thrown back, and when he looked down at me I could see ecstasy on his face. He tugged on his own nipple rings. Tugged hard. Tugged harder. I thought he would pull the rings right out of his chest. He let go of the rings. He reached with his long arms towards me. He caressed my nipples, which caused me to cry out. In pleasure.

The pressure in my ass was beyond description. The pressure was pain, and the pressure was heat. The pressure was illicit and unexpected. The pressure was producing an unbelievable pleasure from a well massaged prostate gland. The pleasure was of being mentally and physically dominated by this skinny little faggot, who owned everything I was.

Stevie slid his hands around my neck, caressing my throat. The last thing I saw were his pillow soft lips, heading towards mine. My swollen mouth opened to receive him. I wanted his tongue deep inside me. I felt more pressure around my neck and throat. Hard, constricting pressure.

I could not draw a breath!

My eyes flew open!

What the fuck was he doing?

Stevie’s entire body weight was bearing down on my throat!

He wildly bucked against my ass. He was pulling nearly all the way out, then slamming back into me. My loud grunting reverberated around the small mirror box. Frightening me. A true animal sound. The cot and the walls of the room shook with his power. His power. Not mine. Stars filled my vision as this new pain, this new pressure, and this new pleasure, rocked my being.

I gasped and gagged for air, moving from fuck toy to basic survival mode. I thought I was madly thrashing at him, but I wasn’t. My dead hands were attached to my dead legs, keeping me wide open.

Stevie let go of my neck and the oxygen rushed into my chest. I heaved mightily, thankful for the chance to breathe again. My cock was teetering on the edge of explosion. I was bursting with erotic sickness. Stevie was caressing my soaking wet hair, brushing my forehead with his long fingers. His cock was buried in my ass. I was grateful for the relief. Both from his thrusting and his strangling.

Jesus. I was grateful?

Talk about a pathetic loser faggot.

Suddenly!

His hands went back to my throat. Squeezed. The pressure returned. He pulled me off the cot towards him.

My eyes began to roll around in my head. I was going over to the dark side. I did not fight him. I could not fight him. However it happened this night, he held the power over me. His grip was a serpent around my throat. I sensed a shaking, he must have been throttling me. I suddenly attuned to my ass. I actually felt his cock twitching deep inside me. Stevie was going to cum. I knew he wasn’t wearing a condom. The bastard was bare backing me.

No!

Stop!

I did not want his raw cum in my torn up ass.

My own cock began to spasm. The spasm started in my lower bowels, deep in my ass where Stevie’s bell was working.

Everything exploded and everything went to full dark.

Did the power go out? Was I dying?

Continued in Chapter 13

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