Diego

It was just before 8am last Wednesday morning when I received a text from Diego, “faggot”. I responded, “yes Sir”, he replied, “12”. Without any regard that I might be at work or busy or something else. By now I think everyone knows my biggest fear is that Diego will find another faggot to use. I began to sweat profusely, unsure of how to respond. I had meetings scheduled at work. I hesitated in responding and again I got pinged, “faggot 12”. Instinct kicked in and I replied, “yes Sir”, I didn’t want to envision him using anyone else!

Now I had to figure out what to do about work. Still sweating and confused, I sat on the sofa dazed and confused. I was glad at least he caught me prior to leaving the house for work. I was wearing my dress pants and had yet to put on my shirt. When I get nervous, my leg becomes restless, and that’s what was happening right then. I took several deep breaths and then I decided to call my boss and say I was feeling unwell and wouldn’t be coming in. This would be highly unusual for me, as I have enough vacation days in my bank, I could take off for 3 months and get paid for it.

When my boss answered the phone, he asked if everything was alright, because I’ve never called him before like this. I told him I woke up not feeling too great, and said I wasn’t coming in. He told me to feel better soon, and I told him I hoped to see him tomorrow and thank you for understanding. So, huge weight off me and I began to feel relieved. However, I had no idea why Diego would request use of me during the day? What was that about?

It was with this blend of excitement and hesitation that I began to go through my routine of getting ready for Diego. I had no idea what I’d be walking into, but my sixth sense was telling me to be ready for anything. I have seen the wrath of what Diego is capable of. He becomes angry very quickly and then his rage dictates everything from there. With his large, muscles frame, he’s very capable of causing serious damage.

So, it was finally time to head over to his place. I knew we wouldn’t be playing outside in the daylight and it was a rainy, dreary day. I parked and walked up to his building, walked down the hall, and opened his door. The smell of weed was overpowering. He sat on his chair, wearing nothing but boxers, and with a lit joint in hand. The ashtray in front of him on the coffee table. He was staring at the porn on the tv, and paid me no attention, as is his usual. 

I undid my belt and pulled off my jeans, and took off my shirt. I had on a tiny Gym brand jockstrap, it was a 1” waistband, and a blue pouch. Nothing fancy, but it kept it controlled my caged cock from moving about.  I crawled over to him, and tried not to distract him while reaching to pull down his boxers. When my hands made contact, like a lion, he pounced! With a second of me touching him, he greeted me with a slap across the face and a growl. It stung, and he slapped me several more times, stinging my cheeks. I was caught off-guard. My eyes began to tear, and I was sure I’d have hand prints on my face.

He got up from the sofa and pushed my head back and yelled, “look at me faggot”, and I looked up and he spit in my face several times. And he stared down at me, seeing if I would break his stare or attempt to wipe my face. I felt his spit in my eyes, and the splooge all over my face. I didn’t dare move a muscle. This stare down must have lasted over a minute. The scowl on his face concerned me. Finally he said, “open faggot”. I opened as wide as I could, and he shoved his hard 9.5” down my throat, and he grabbed the back of my head to hold me down.

I was resisting, trying to pull away. My arms flailing, my eyes tearing, my throat raw, spittle flying everywhere. He fucked my mouth like I was a blow-up doll or something. I usually lean into these face fucks, but today, I was really struggling, and I could tell I was pissing him off.  He finally let go of my head, and he ran towards my pants and pulled off the black leather belt. As I was positioned already on my knees, on the floor, he began to swing the belt and he cracked it across my back all the way down to my ass and back up again. It was uncontrolled rage, his fury expressed by the intense cracks of leather hitting across my back. I was screaming, “oh fuck” “ohhh”, “oh please, Sir”, and he would hit me harder. In a deeply disturbing controlled voice he said, “shut the fuck up faggot”. And when he hit me again, I yelped.

He pulled off his socks and shoved them into my mouth, and he hit me several more times like a whipping bag. He must have belted me almost 50 times. My ass and back stung, and they felt hot. I knew the afterburner was going to come on shortly. Diego was out of breath when he finished, I could see his powerful chest heaving, and the sweat building on his forehead. Then he stood in front of me and calmly said with gritted teeth, “open that faggot mouth and take this dick”. I opened my mouth and his socks dropped to the floor. I knew I wouldn’t survive another beating, so I gave 110% to finding a way to work through this oral raping of my throat.  It was as if my soul left my body for a few minutes, and I felt nothing, and during this time, I was violently being throat fucked, and I snapped out of it when I felt Diego’s body tense up, and he grunted and shouted, “take that load you fucking faggot”, as he emptied his nut down my gullet. His cock intensely twitching inside me. I could feel his load shooting out painting my throat and esophagus.

When he came down from the high of his orgasm, he pulled out and I licked my lips. The sweet taste of his nectar made me think the punishment is always worth the reward, no matter what it took to earn it. I began to think the reason why Diego keeps having me back and using me is that I might be the only faggot he’s found that can take whatever he dishes out? Let’s be honest, his brutality isn’t for everyone. For me, on the other hand, I get off on it!

Diego stood in front of me, again, sweaty, glistening chest heaving, sweat forming on his brow. He went to sit on the sofa. First stroking his beard, maybe to relax himself, and then he reached over and lit up his joint. I just sat there and watched him, but tried not to stare. His cock was still amazingly erect, and I wanted so badly to suck it on my terms, but I don’t think that was going to happen at this moment. I sat on my heels for several minutes in silence as Diego finished his smoking his joint. He exhaled his last hit right in my face, then he spit on it.

He grabbed me by the arm and threw me towards the sofa. He barked, “show me that hole, faggot”. So I bent over the arm of the sofa and  reached my hands back to spread my ass, exposing my hole. My ass still feeling warm to the touch from the beating I had endured just 30 minutes ago. In that span of time, Diego went from frantic uncontrolled rage to a quiet calm after cumming.

He walked over to me, and batted my hands away by my wrists. He spit down onto my crack, and then into his hands and wet his cock and when he found my ring, he poked through, in one stroke deep until his balls hit my ass. I let out a wild high-pitched noise as it did hurt quite a bit. He slapped my already bruised ass and as he deep stroked inside me he said on each downstroke, “how...many...times...do...I...have...to...tell...you...fucking...faggot...to...shut...the...fuck...up!”, and then he accentuated his point with a hard smack to the meatiest part of my ass, and with it already sore, I jumped, opening my hole even more, which buried his thick cock even deeper inside me.

He punch fucked me on that sofa, ducking me silly, as I was now just making jibberish sounds, and Diego once again, fucking me like a rag doll. My body became lose and I let him just use me as he wanted and needed. I was having yet another one of those out of body experiences, where I didn’t feel anything, but I knew exactly what was going on. With my body gone completely limp, and my hole completely relaxed, Diego was getting inside me very, very deep. He reached up and grabbed my shoulders and fucked me hard and long until I heard that familiar grunt and he shouted, “fuck...get that nut faggot”!

My body came to life as he filled me, and I began to squeeze my ass around his hard cock to milk him dry. When he pulled out I spun around, dropped to my knees, and cleaned him off. He held my head around his shaft and it wasn’t long until I felt his stream flow down my throat. I’ve learned to swallow in controlled intervals to keep any piss from spilling. The key is to have a good amount of suction, manage breathing, and swallowing at the right time. I try never to think too much about the acrid taste, and the warmth. There are times when Diego’s piss tastes almost pleasant, but this was not one of those times.

I had probably been there by now about 2 hours and had taken 2 loads and his piss. I wasn’t sure if it was time to leave. Diego hadn’t walked away or threw me out the door yet. After he pulled out of my mouth and shaking the piss droplets over my face, he pointed towards the wall, and sternly said, “back against the wall and open that faggot mouth”. With my head flush against the wall, and nowhere to hide, he fucked my mouth, his cock growing more rigid in the process. I was retching, the spit flying everywhere once again, his palms against the wall, thrusting deep down my throat. Suddenly he pulled out and pulled me by the hair and pushed me down to the floor so my stomach was on the carpet. My caged cock was smashed between the carpet and my abdomen. Being a metal cage, it was rather uncomfortable. I couldn’t do anything about it.

Diego got down on his knees and smacked my ass, and then his spit dropped down into my crack. He rubbed his now hard cock on it and lined up again into my sphincter and pushed deep inside. With both arms on either side of, Diego began to fuck me push-up style. His cock dipping in and out of my cummy hole. He did this for awhile before crashing onto my back with all his weight. He reached under my chest and squeezed it tightly, his head resting on my neck and he began to bite down on me as he fucked inside. As he was getting closer to cumming, the biting became harder. In addition to welts on my back and ass, he was adding bite marks. He bit down hard when his cum began to spew inside my guts.

After he came, he loosened his jaws and just laid there for a few minutes. I wasn’t expecting it, but I began to feel my bladder become full. He was pissing inside of me! When he finished, he pulled out and gave my ass another hard smack. I was afraid to move I didn’t want to spill anything!

Diego left the room, didn’t say a word. I heard him close his bedroom door. I wanted to use his bathroom to empty out, but I don’t think he would have liked that. I got up and quickly got dressed. I ran quickly out of his building and I knew I wasn’t going to keep that piss and cum inside me too much longer so I found a large bush, squatted down and emptied out as much as I could.

I pulled my pants back on and drove home. When I did get home, I got naked to see the damage. Indeed, my entire ass and back were deep shades of red and purple. There were welts and marks and bruises. And as I looked at the back of my neck, there were distinctive bite marks. I thought to myself, “oh fuck, that’s not going to go away anytime soon”. I took a warm bath to try and ease some of the soreness, used some lotion, took some Advil, and took a long nap.  When I woke up nearly 4 hours later, there was a huge wet puddle under my ass, and my body felt like someone had beat me to a pulp.

This is the life I have chosen. Being a sub, caged, faggot isn’t for everyone, but it is for me. The bruises and scars remind me of my place and remind me of my service. I’m completely good with that!