Mickey's Load

There was an intensity about Mickey that night. It felt like he had only being playing with me for the past two days. Maybe there was some anger because I had briefly dominated him, maybe his ego couldn't take that? Or was it just raw animalistic desire to inflict his will on me?

There was nothing gentle about him that night. He used his cock to drill into me without mercy. Sure he heard me silently screaming, gagged into his jocks, I knew, because he reacted each time by pushing harder. I couldn't believe the impact his cock made inside me. He was big, but thick rather than long. He looked hard all the time. His width relaxed, was like most lad's hard. You can't put something that powerful inside someone without causing pain.

Mickey knew it too, the movements and places inside that caused the most pain and the ones that caused me deep pleasure.

It was the same to him as submission fighting. You pick on your opponents pain centre, his weak point and punish him and just when he breaks, you offer relief. He doesn't know how to control his ordeal, what to do to, how to react.

That's how it felt, Mickey could sense a weak point quarter way into me, a spot where his head size was too big. Relief could come when he passed that point. So each time he entered me, he stopped there , flexing his cock head into that pain centre 'thats painfull, no wonder your sucking my jocks'.

As he travelled in further there was some relief until he reached the limit. This was like waiting for a bullet to fire. I could just about handle his load, but I could feel it would expand and accelerate.

Mickey taunted me at this stage. 'ready to experience a real lad, ready to get ripped apart, any last words, confessions?' Then he counted down from 100, with each second my fear and excitement grew.

It was at that point he forgot all limits and raged aggressively. Inside he: ploughed, drilled, pushed, roughed me up. Outside: his prickly red hair scratched my cheeks, he straddled my back, his feet hooked around my calves, his thick muscled legs stretched me apart. With each thrust he tightened the double armbar and forced my face down, deeper into his bed.

Breathing was difficult for me, I couldn't dislodge his gagg, my saliva mixed with the dry cum on his jocks and produced a pungent reminder of his potency.

Jets of his cum confirmed his ownership of my ass and my mouth too was overpowered, by his cock juice smell.

The more he ploughed me, the more I was forced to cum. I didn't know how long each attack would last, or whether he would stay inside and attack again, or withdraw.

There were times I fell asleep exhausted, then woke again to find him drilling away and panting heavily. Other times if felt like he was asleep on me, in me.

My thoughts and feelings were jumbled. I was half awake half asleep, in agony and in ecstacy. There was no doubt I was humbled, beaten, broken, humiliated and in awe of my dominator.

It felt like Mickey had broken my will. I would be his prey again tomorrow. I would be victim to his cruel torture. He would fulfill his threat to fuck me in a modified camel clutch. I was fixated on the memory of Dean's tortured face when Mickey clutched him. My ordeal would be worse. Hard experience had taught me that Mickey was turned on by suffering, my suffering.

At one stage I was in a deep sleep. My body cut out to recover. Skinhead was back, his name was visible on his red singlet this time 'Traeger'. Traeger paced around aggressively, pulled down the top of his singlet and flexed his pecs. He was about to fight, I pitied whoever was facing this muscle bound stud. He lunged forward and grabbed his opponents ankles, forcing him to the mat. Mickey landed with a bang. Traegar mounted him , driving his shoulder into Mickey's face, Mickey tried to push him off, Traeger trapped Mickey's arm and head into a choke, wrapping his arm around Mickey's neck tightly he had him in an arm triangle. It doesn't take much pressure to force submission with an arm triangle. Mickey was fading fast, he had to submit. Traeger was face down on the mat, straddling Mickey who was face up in the choke hold. Mickey was suffering. He looked worn and dazed. Traeger worked the hold masterfully, pilling the pressure on Mickey. Submission followed submission, Traeger had a single focus, destroying Mickey. It seemed endless, hopeless for Mickey. Finally Traeger released the lock. Mickey was flat on the mat. Traeger flipped him over and locked on a rear choke and body scissors from behind. Traeger choked and crushed Mickey, leaving him crawling on the mat. He paced around his fallen prey, stripped Mickey naked and forced him into a spladle. Mickey howled as his legs were ripped apart. His manhood was exposed and controlled by Traeger. There was no escape, no hope.

Mickey unloaded in me again, I was saturated. Dreaming of Traeger punishing Mickey, forced me to unload too.

Mickey dropped back down on me again. I could feel his breath in my ear, I'd grown familiar with his rhythm's, I could tell he was tiring.

It struck me that every time Mickey unloaded his energy depleted. It made sense, I was the victim but he was doing all the work. If I exhausted him, maybe I could be Traeger?

It was was a gamble, but this was a game of strategy, not without risks, not without pain or reward. Did I want to be his bitch or could I be Traeger? The price would be pain and subjection the reward could be victory and dominance.

Goading Mickey into action wasn't complex. This stocky muscle head wasn't that complex. Challenge his ego and he would respond.

He was all but asleep on me . Trying to speak with his jocks in my mouth was hard but I had to provoke him. ' what do you want mumble head, shut up or I'll fuck you again?'.

Mickey was irritable, he wanted to sleep, if I kept mumbling through his jocks he would have to react'. It worked, he was pissed off, it was more than that too, he had to prove he could shut me up.

It was now down to an endurance test. Could I survive his attacks long enough to exhaust him. His cock, his conditioning versus me and my ass. Normally he'd win. His fitness levels were incredible. You don't win boxing medals without extreme levels of fitness. But this wasn't a 3 minute knockout round situation. This was about the long game. I was no flake either, I had experience with BJJ and grappling basics and was a gym junkie.

Mickey reacted as I thought, savagely ploughing me, forcing me to seccumb.

Hard as it was, he was, wounded as I was. I pushed him again: ' No more Mickey juice left, that was weak you prick'.

He was exhausted, I could tell by his breathing but furious as well, he couldn't handle any challenge to his sexual prowess.

This time I thought he would break me. I couldn't understand how anyone could have that amount of power inside anyone else. I focused on Treager, what would he do? He would endure and win. I think Mickey was shocked when I laughed at him: ' Bitch Boy that's lame, you wanted to fuck me from day one and now you're lame?' He powered up again 'Youre a thick fucker, you should know when your beaten'. What Mickey didn't know was I had loosened up now. At first I was tight because I was trying to hold him back. Now I wanted him to spill all of his cum inside me, all of his juice, all of his energy. It didn't take long before he was exhausted. To be fair he was a cum factory, but he had reached his limits.

This time he was flat out cold, snoring on my back. My ass was on fire, I still had to get him out of me, off me. But I was wide awake.

It was harder than I had imagined getting his cock out of me. Even flacid it was thick . I was still in his full nelson.

First step was to bend slightly and release my left, then right arm. It took effort, I listened closely to his snoring, out of a fear of waking him. Both arms were free. Gradually the tingling stopped and the power returned.

Pulling his jocks out of my mouth was bittersweet. From the first time I saw them in his room, I was turned on. Cum stained black jocks are potent, his cum smelled powerful, it was addictive. Somehow I felt it fed my energy.

Still I figured his juice was going to be mine now, I would own it. He was still on top of me and in me. I couldn't move forward because of the bed head. The only way to get his cock out of me was to stand up. Hopefully if I stood up he would slide out and slump down to his mattress.

It wasn't easy but I managed by moving gradually upward. I could feel him slide out of me until I heard a pop. It was his 'cap' cock head departing. I felt like it was making a statement. This was the part of Mickey I had tongued for hours, his sweet spot, my sweet spot.

I was tempted to to put it back in. Part of me wanted to be plugged into Mickey forever. I could be an extension of him, of his perfection. But I was Treager now. Reborn victim of Mickey's, fuelled by his cum, back to destroy him.

I was free. He looked perfect under me. I wondered how anyone could look this tight, even in deep sleep. I wondered was he dreaming of my ass or did he have a Traeger? I wondered how far I could push him. The pain was still there. You don't shake off a thick cock in your ass that quickly. Mickey had made his mark on me. He had filled me with extremes of pain and pleasure, extremes I never knew existed. It was mental and physical, the smell of his breath, the sound of his authority, the feel of his bristle, the shape of his cock, the throbbing, the movement, the ploughing, the sharp pain, the relief, the breathlessness,the darkness, the dampness, the odour, his juice. The only turn on greater than this, was revenge. Not for vengeance, but for dominance. That's what Mickey really needed, to be tamed. He had no idea that when he woke his days of domination were over, from now on he would be my bitch.