The Formation of Calluses

Bleed

In time I found the strength to push myself up again, an inch at a time, insides aching sweetly. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, trying not to shiver, feeling as if I were hovering far above the carpet below. The sun was no longer pouring through the drawn blinds – it must have been close to noon. The bare room was filled with a lazy soft light that was neither here nor there.

I stood up, relieved that my legs were no longer shaking...though I still felt as if I'd been turned inside out. I crossed the room, listening intently for any sound of his return, hoping against hope that I'd have more time to rest before he came at me again. The wind groaned across the far side of the house, the ominous creaking of an old ship drifting deep in the churning ocean. I stood swaying in that empty white room for some time, staring off at nothing as my body stitched itself together again, barely registering the distant clinks and clacks of work being done in a kitchen somewhere. I could see myself through a cloudy camera lens, standing naked and bruised in this room that wasn't mine. This body was draped around my being like a borrowed suit. My life was happening to someone else.

The thick smell of frying bacon drew me out of this all too soon. My eyes finally focused on the open door, and the hallway beyond. I hesitated.

Are you man, or a scared little kid? Are you going to push through this, or let it ruin your life?

My dick had grown hard again, but I ignored it. I looked down at my battered body and the dim bruises he'd given it, and the events of the morning finally sank in. I was uncertain of the feeling they’d left me with. I'd been used, that much was true. I felt it in every corner of my body, my mind...that I'd been turned into a thing. I'd known this would happen, on some level, ever since he'd caught me on the highway. But to actually experience it, in all its painful detail, inside and out...he'd made me cum for him, even as he'd hurt me. He'd made me want it...but, in the end, it was a trick. A dirty trick of a sadistic mind. He'd made me beg him. Made me beg to be hurt – until I'd begged him to stop.

He didn't stop, though. Not this morning, not last night – not ever. What did that make it, then? There was a word for it, I knew...a thorn inside my mind…

“Come eat,” his voice called from another part of the house. It didn't sound like an order, but I knew that anything he requested of me would be no request at all. This nudging dance of warm suggestion was all a farce, and somehow I'd let it carry me away. But...where would it take me? Would I ever come back?

I looked for my clothes, and remembered I had none. He'd taken my socks, as well as my ruined shirt. The last time I'd seen my pants and jacket, they'd been strewn across the living room at the far end of the house. Putting on any of his clothes was obviously out of the question – he'd made that abundantly clear. I was naked, for now.

Man up. This is nothing – you've been through much worse already. 

I drew up the courage to leave the bedroom, as naked as I'd been when he'd popped my cherry.

You're not a thing. You're a man. 

My feet were freezing on the hardwood floor, cool air washing over my skin to raise my body hair like hackles.

You'll never be able to look yourself in the mirror again if you let this pervert make you his slave. There's always a choice, so make it. Now or never.

Every step made me more determined to confront him, to make him acknowledge what he'd done to me. Make him say that word, see it ring in his ears...

The rest of the house was laid out in a predictable way, simple and open and bland. The sparse, clean kitchen was easy to find, all plain brown furniture and baby blue tile. He was standing at the stove with his back to me, oozing confidence with his trunk-like legs planted apart. The broad bulk of him was covered by a fresh white undershirt and loose gray pajama bottoms. His huge, hairy arms were bare, and even now I hated myself for letting my eyes roam over their potent musculature. The smell of the bacon was stronger than ever, filling the room with its rich sputtering. I wasn't hungry, though I knew I should be. I didn't want else from him.

"I hope I didn't wear you out," he said nonchalantly, as if we'd been playing racquetball. He turned to face me, holding the sizzling frying pan in one hand and two plates in the other. He'd prepared a massive pile of bacon and scrambled eggs, sprinkled with pepper and steaming in the white air...

"Where are my clothes?" I asked, trying to stay focused.

"Tossed the shirt, but the rest are still around here somewhere." His dark eyes casually wandered down my nude body, and he smirked at my erection. His tongue flickered over his lips, brushing his mustache.

I covered it without success, tried to shove it down with my hand. I couldn't will it away – it was pushing through my fingers like an unruly child, a lost cause.

"Why do you want them, anyway?” he asked, the barest hint of mockery in his deep voice. “I think you like prancing around like this. You know how sexy you are, or at least you should.” His eyes rose to meet mine, a shifty smile crinkling at the edges. "You like teasing me, boy?"

“It's freezing in here,” I all but snarled. I was getting angry. Anger was good.

“Yep,” he agreed. “That storm last night was a big cold front coming in. It's been snowing nonstop out there.” He shrugged and put the plates down on the table. He watched me from the corner of his eye as he filled the them up with food. "Sit down, will you?"

I swallowed, but my throat was dry. Man up. " No. I want my clothes."

"And I told you. You ain't getting them. Sit down."

My body jolted into action at his sharp command. I did as I was told, taking the seat closest to the wall, farthest from him. The glazed wooden chair was cold on my ass cheeks, sending my balls further into my groin. My dick was finally going soft. I could feel my face and chest growing red.

"Good boy." He laid a plate down in front of me and dumped half the food onto it. I knew it smelled good, but it made me feel sick. He tossed the empty pan into the sink and sat across from me with his own plate, eyeing his bacon and my bruised chest in equal measure. "I figured you'd need some protein, after all that stretching you've been doing." He grinned and shoved a piece into his mouth, talking as he chewed, like some barbarian. "You haven't eaten in almost thirty-six hours, am I right? I mean, assuming you followed my instructions, which I know you did."

I didn't touch the food, though my stomach was growling for it. My hands gripped the seat beneath me, knuckles tight. My voice didn’t crack when I finally spoke, but it was smaller than I thought it’d be. "You raped me."

He spit a little when he laughed. "You don't even know what that word means, boy. You just took some convincing, that's all. It happens."

"I...I said no, but you did it anyway. You heard me say no."

“I heard you say, 'I’m not used to it.' There's only one way to get used to it."

“I said stop. I know I said that – but you didn't. You didn't stop.”

He smirked, chewing noisily, but his eyes had narrowed. He was studying me like a lion, crouched and coiled in the tallgrass. “I was already halfway up your ass when you said it. Way past the point of no return. You can't expect a man to just stop like that, boy. You'd know how it is, if you weren't such a little bottom bitch. Drop it...”

"No." I swallowed, looked away. I knew I was blushing. This was humiliating, but it had to be said. “I know we made a deal, me coming here...but I didn't know you were going to...”

He slammed his plate down onto the table, scattering his food. His black eyes were on fire again, worse even. "Cut this bullshit, boy. It's always gonna hurt when somebody sticks a dick in you – but you loved it in the end, just like you did last night – just like you're gonna enjoy it every time. You loved it even more when I called you a whore. I know you did. I could feel it. Loosened right up when I called you a whore. Almost blew your load, for Chrissake."

He was picking up bits of egg from the table and stuffing them into his mouth, but his eyes never left me. "You're lying if you say you didn't love it. Lying right to my face. That ain’t behavior fit for a boy who came in my mouth this morning. You think I suck just anybody off like that? I treated you real good, you fuckin brat. Even cooked you breakfast, which you haven't touched. You gonna get all caught up over one little word you said? You think one little word even matters to me?I'm not listening to your god damn mouth when we're fuckin – I'm listening to your dick. Your dick don't lie...”

I said nothing. I couldn't keep arguing with him – I could tell it was getting dangerous. I knew he'd never admit to my version of what he'd done. Besides, I'd been a mess this morning, hadn't I? He was the one who’d been doing the fucking, the one in the driver's seat. His perception had been much clearer than mine, in control – just like mine, whenever I was fucking a chick. Girls lost their minds when they were getting fucked, barely aware of their surroundings. I knew I'd been the same. Maybe I was wrong…

No.

He took my silence as agreement, which it almost was. He finished his plate with some measure of satisfaction and commenced with licking the grease from his fingers. He watched me while he did it. "I can't believe you're not hungry," he smirked.

Man. Up.

"I just want my clothes,” I said clearly, evenly. “This isn't worth it. You can do what you like – but I think you're bluffing. Either way, I'm done with this weird shit you're into.” Even as I said it, I felt a deep pang of strange guilt – the same guilt I felt whenever I lied to my parents. I ignored it and focused on staring him down. “I want my clothes. I'm leaving."

"We're not done."

"But – "

"I don't bluff. If you go back on your deal, I'll fuckin ruin you, and deep down you know I'll won't think twice about it. I think you're letting your pride do you in right now, because your whole life everybody's been telling you its a virtue – and it is, usually. It's what makes you a man...but you've got no use for pride when you're with me. It'll only make things harder for you. Boys shouldn't have too much pride. Hungry fuck-meat shouldn't have any at all.”

“Just – ”

“Shut your mouth. I ain't done talking. You're just all aflutter because you've never been the woman before. I get it. I do. It's confusing, especially for somebody who didn't know they were wired for it, and make no fuckin mistake, boy – you're wired for it. You think it makes you a faggot, but you were always a faggot deep down. You want to run away from it, before you get hooked on it...but it's too late for that. You're hooked. You were hooked after just two fingers, before you even set foot in this house.”

He took the last bite of his food and tossed the fork down, bristling like an angry bear. “Now, I'll forget all the bullshit you've just made me sit through – won't even punish you for it – so long as you shut the fuck up about it right now and eat your damned breakfast. After that I'm gonna keep doing whatever I want with you. You said it, not me – ‘whatever you want, sir.’ It's only Saturday morning. I've got your sweet ass here all to myself until tomorrow night, and you're not leaving one fuckin minute before that."

The heat of my face wasn't any sort of humiliated blush, I realized. I was angrier than I'd ever been.Fuck-meat, he'd called me. Hooked. "You can't keep me here."

He shrugged, smirking, the muscles of his huge shoulders rippling under his thin shirt. "Oh, I could, boy – but I won't. That'd get messy real quick. That's why we have a deal in the first place. Gotta stay civilized about this shit. You want to go? Fine. You're more than welcome to leave." He gestured towards the front of the house with a big, hairy hand. "You can walk right on out that door any time you want to.”

I glared at him. “My clothes.”

“No...my clothes. You want to walk out of here, you're doing it naked. That'd be a sight for the neighbors, wouldn't it?" He laughed. "You're not gonna do that, though. Know why? Cause you're a pussy. A pretty pink pussy, with a pretty pink dick. I've got your number, boy."

I ignored the sinking feeling in my gut, the feeling of him seeing right through me. "Bullshit," I spat. "You made sure no one saw me come in here. It’s noon, on a fucking Saturday. If I walk out there, your neighbors will see me all right – they'll see a naked college kid walking out of your house with hand-shaped bruises all over him.” I smirked at him as his face fell into a glowering snarl, thinking I was getting the upper hand. “I'll try to look dignified, but I don't think I'll be able to cover up this waddle – "

He snapped. The table was flipped away from my lap before I'd even registered his movement. The chair was ripped out from under me half a second later, and he was pinning me against the wall a half second after that. His face was an inch from mine, eyes wild, nostrils flaring like a raging bull.

"Don't you get smart with me, boy. You try to leave now, that speeding ticket of yours is gonna get upgraded to a felony arrest warrant. I'll say you assaulted an officer. You’ll never get away from it, not for years. Don't think I can do it?"

His hand appeared at my nipple, and he squeezed harder than he'd ever done it before. There was no control, no lesson.Only punishment. “Ow – ow, FUCK – !” I cursed. I was shoving my fists into the brick wall of his chest, but it was useless – and it only made him twist harder. I felt tears tickling the corners of my eyes.

“You whiny bitch,” he growled, teeth bared. “You think that was rape? I seen rape. It’s messy, and it’s bloody, and the fucker getting fucked definitely does not ask for more, and he definitely does not ride any dicks with his eyes rolling back in his head. What we had this morning was a conversation.”

"Fuck yo – AAAGHH!"

He laughed right in my face as he twisted away at my nipple. "That'd be the day! In your wet dreams, boy. Fuck you."

He pulled away, leaving me flat against the wall. I was naked and trembling, shocked into silence. He wasn't just strong – he was fast. Dangerous. He could kill me if he wanted to. I knew that now. I was weak. I cursed the tears that ran down my face, and cursed my dick even more. It was hard as a rock again, pointing directly at him like an accusatory finger. It had left a wet spot on his pajamas where his hips had pinned mine.

He saw it – how could he not – and smiled. I watched the anger drain out of him in seconds, but I didn't like what was left in its place. "Like I said, Mikey. You're a fuckin liar." His fingers tapped my balls once, twice, awakening a dull ache in them. I barely kept myself from groaning, which only made him smirk.

He crossed the kitchen and went into the connecting living room. He opened the blinds. The backyard and the world beyond were white, pristine, smothered under a thick blanket of snow. The air was full of it, drifting like a sea of ashes. “Beautiful day,” he exclaimed. He went to the back door, undid the latches, and threw it open. The sudden blast of icy wind made me shiver, made me wrap my arms around myself. He stepped to the side and half-bowed, politely gesturing to the open door like a hulking butler, ready to see me out. “You're free to go any time, Mikey. You can walk out this door right now, and I won't stop you. I didn't kidnap you. You came here because you chose to, and you can choose to leave. But every decision has consequences, boy...”

I didn't move.

“Well?”

I just looked down at the floor, trembling as the winter wind sank into my bones. I couldn't do it.

“Okay, then. That's that.” He shut the door, white specs of snow fluttering down to rest at his bare feet, soaking into the rug. He was walking towards me again, feet heavy and creaking, and then he was pressing against me, his hand on my cock. It was still hard. He held it tight, just hard enough to make it swell between his knuckles. He wasn't stroking it, or hurting it. He was claiming it. “Gonna have to punish you now, boy. You went way over the line – I haven't been nearly as strict with you as I should have been. My own fault, really. You gonna take it like a man?”

I just nodded, letting myself go numb. I couldn't look at him. What the fuck had I been thinking? What had I hoped to accomplish,standing up to him like that? Did I actually think he'd compromise on anything when he already had me by the balls? Nothing had changed. He'd called my bluff, and I hadn't even realized I was bluffing. I couldn't even get through one weekend without fucking things up. I'd risked my education, my future, only to be punished again...I should have just kept my mouth shut.

He squeezed my cock and let it go, crossing the kitchen tile to wash his hands. “You're thinking about all this too much,” he said. “You need to learn how to go with the flow. I'll teach you how to relax...” He turned and looked at the mess he'd made – that I'd made him make. It was a disaster. Eggs and meat and the shattered bits of a broken plate littered the floor, the table flipped on its side against the far wall.

He grabbed the only chair left standing, turned it to face me, and sat down with his hands planted firmly on each knee. “Come here,” he ordered. He was looking right at me, daring me to hesitate...

I didn't allow myself to think. I went to him, one step after another, until I was standing between his knees. My cock bobbed in full view, making me feel like a pervert in a park.

He patted his knee. “Go on now. Assume the position.”

I grimaced at every possibility that flashed through my head. “What position…?”

“Right here on the floor, boy. Hands and knees. I want to see your ass – my ass. Now.”

I swallowed my embarrassment and did as I was told. I was on the floor in front of him seconds later, facing away from him. I felt his hands on my thighs, guiding me closer to him...and then he was lifting my knees off the floor and pulling my legs back around his waist. Most of my weight fell on my open hands. I clumsily walked them backwards as he pulled me into him, until my hips were resting on his knees, my cock dangling loose between his inner thighs. My arms and back flexed and strained to keep my upper body off the floor, my feet swaying in the air just behind his shoulders. My ass cheeks were spread open. I could feel the cold air on my hole alongside the heat of his belly, feel it winking up at him. The brunt of his hard cock was grinding into my taint like a billy club, held in check by the fabric of his pajamas. Raking against it, teasing it, stopping just short of nudging against my hole. I grunted with the effort of holding myself in this awkward position, confused, wondering exactly how he planned on fucking me like this.

“You look so good like this, boy...” he rattled, rubbing the flesh of each meaty ass cheek with his big, eager hands, making my dick twitch. "Tasty meat..."

I tried not to let the feel of his hands on my skin cloud my mind, but it was no use. My entire body was tingling, readying itself, wanting to be wanted. I knew from the gruff sound of his voice that he was horned up again...

One hand gripped my waist, held me still. The other crashed down onto my bare ass an instant later, bringing an explosion of sharp red pain that made me quake in his grip. The sound of his open palm on my flesh was louder than I thought possible in that stagnant air. The pain made me grunt and gasp at the same time, so sudden it nearly ripped the strength from my wobbling arms –

Another explosion shook the opposite cheek, just as loud and just as painful. I barely kept myself from shrieking, arching my back instead, giving him a show. He slapped the same cheek again – again – and then he was rubbing the inflamed, tenderized flesh in a circular motion, back and forth, making it linger, making it grow –

I hissed, nearly whimpered, but then he was spanking the other cheek again with a chaotic excuse for a rhythm, keeping me completely off balance – unable to anticipate, unable to see what he was doing. The baby blue kitchen tile blurred in front of my face. Broken bits of plate and clumps of yellow egg between my open hands, dusted with pepper and bits of old dirt...

Now he was rubbing it again – now spanking – now rubbing it to the point of searing white heat – pummeling both ass cheeks at the same time – flooding the room with my startled gasps and the whacking racket of his hands slamming down into the meat of my ass with all his strength –

I finally broke wide open under this endless abuse. I let out a long wail that quickly sank into a raw, hitching sob, my legs and shoulders and back all heaving and trembling for him to see.

This only made him hotter for it, and the blows kept coming. My ass was shattered with each powerful slap, quaking and quivering. He grabbed my balls and twisted, and a cloud of aching pain burst up into my stomach as his other hand hammered my ass, robbing me of my voice even as I tried to scream. He smacked my balls before he left them to throb like open wounds, both hands now spanking again, back and forth, on and on and on.

I was blubbering like a child, face burning red along with everything else, gushing tears and snot. The searing agony of his punishment was consuming my entire being, not limited to any single blow, but spreading – consuming – arching up and down my spine and everywhere else. His voice. He was saying something. How long had he been speaking?

“You done fighting me yet, boy? You done playing grownup? Huh?” His hand slammed down against my taint and grazed my balls, turning my sob into a shriek. My arms were shaking like leaves, barely holding me off the ground. My groin was throbbing, aching, and my ass was on fire. His other hand came down in rapid succession on a single cheek, like a machine gun, the worst attack yet.

I howled as my body tried to twist itself away from the pain. I may have even crawled away, but his other hand had clamped down on my waist, holding me firm against his lap as the attack went on. I threw my head down and bellowed. My softening cock flopped and dangled between his knees, leaking like a sieve as precum spattered against the tile below...no, not precum...I'd pissed all over the floor. A rabbit in a trap. “Better answer me soon, boy!”

“I'm done! Hah – aahhh! I'm done, sir! I'm sorry SIR!”

And just like that, it was over.

I was panting, sobbing, whining through my teeth, every muscle tensing for another wave of piercing abuse. He held both throbbing globes in each of his big hands, crushing them until the flesh bulged between his knuckles, making me wriggle and whimper as the pain swelled. He pulled them apart, smashed them together, spread them again, and spit right into the middle. I felt the warm gob of it hit my hole and dribble down into the sweat-slick fur of my taint. “I'm gonna be real disappointed if I have to do this again with you, boy,” he growled, but I didn't believe him for a second. I only sniffled quietly, slowly regaining my sanity piece by piece.

Something split apart inside of me, stung me to the core, a fleshy friction – he was fingering me. In and out. Fucking my wincing with two thick fingers, right down to the knuckles in back. It sent tremors down my sweaty body, not all of them good. I was still slick from the earlier fucking, but I was caught off guard. I took a deep, desperate breath, and pushed it out through my throat. My ass relaxed around his fingers as I did, accepting their intrusion, letting him go deeper. I grunted at the dull, punching sting, but it'd been so easy that time. Muscle memory.Instinct. The merciless punishment I was still reeling from had purged any thought of resistance from my mind, conscious or otherwise. I was being trained in the worst possible way, like he was breaking a fighting dog.

Another sloppy glob of spit dropped onto my hole. Another finger, stretching…

My tense, uncomfortable grunts were changing as the seconds dragged into minutes, though I barely registered it. He was punching deep, fingers burrowing towards the base of my hanging dick, searching for his prize. He found it easily, right where he'd left it. Soon I was huffing with each downward punch of his knobby fingers, hole growling slicker as he stirred...and then I was gasping roughly...and now I was moaning under my breath...

“Got your number...” I head him say. His fingers hooked down around the ring of my hole, pulling it open with a stretching, simmering pain that made my entire ass twitch against it. “Look at that...” He spanked again, hard and merciless. My ass clenched shut against his fingers, or tried to, giving him the obscene show he wanted.

I wailed and nearly burst into tears at this new medley of pain, twisting my head around to beg him with my eyes. “Please!” I cried, nothing but a raw nerve. I couldn't take any more of it. I couldn't.

“Don't bullshit me, boy...” I felt his giant hand pushing beneath my hips, knuckles brushing my tender balls as he took my cock into his fist. He slowly pulled it back between my legs, making me groan with sudden pleasure. I was fully engorged, throbbing in his open hand. I whimpered as he kneaded the underside of my swollen cock with his thumb, root to glans, pushing the foreskin away from the slick head. I felt a hot stream of precum pour from the tip like lava, twitching and lewd… “This is all I ever need to know about you, Mikey. This right here.”

His hands left my tender parts and lifted my hips from his lap. My legs were numb and shaking as I tried to stand up, and found I couldn't even do that. I had no strength left, and I was falling – but he was standing behind me. Catching me in his giant arms easily, as if I were a drunk chick at a party. Holding me against him...

I finally let myself collapse. I let him hold me. We stayed like that for more than a few minutes while I recovered, the only sound my panting as it shifted into shallow, trembling breaths. The firm heat of his chest rose and fell against my spine the entire time, like the beating heart of a giant. Then he was gone, and I was cold again.

"Clean this mess up," he said from somewhere behind me.

 “What?” I asked, swaying, still in a daze.

“Anything I want. That's still our deal. Right now, I want you to clean this mess up.” His fingers slid between my ass cheeks, tracing the hair that encircled my hole. I was beyond flinching. “We're gonna do something a little more fun after that, now that you've learned your lesson.” He grinned against the back of my neck as his circling finger found the rim of my hole, making me shudder against the warm hand that cradled my stomach, thumbing my naval like a glowing fire poker. “Unless you're gonna leave after all? It's chilly out there...”

I didn't need to reply. He left me again, and I realized my hips were rolling back into the empty space he'd just been, that they'd been doing it all along. He went to the counter, grabbed a roll of paper towels, and tossed them at me. I managed to catch them. “Clean first. Get to it.”

I went about righting the upturned table without a word, my nakedness gleaming like a diamond in my mind, but no longer the slightest bit important. He meandered back through the open doorway and into the nearby living room, where he leaned against the sofa he’d ravaged me upon the night before. He crossed his arms, watching me work, mustache twitching above his black beard.

It took more than a few minutes for me to finish, my body quickly finding itself again. I never lost my damned erection, but at least it was easier to think clearly without his hands on me. I tried to tell myself I was mortified by what he'd turned me into, that being forced to perform housework after all that was awful, degrading…

But I knew he was watching my thick, hairy thighs quiver as I sprayed down the floor, wiping up my own piss...watching my plump dick bounce around as I moved the chairs back into place...watching my hairy asshole stretch wide as I squatted to sweep the shards of broken plate and food into a dustpan, framed by the bright red slabs of fuzzy meat he'd personally beat into submission… It kept me hard, kept me blushing. Kept my mind wandering back to the inevitable result of his open, blatant lust – his mammoth cock, pumping deep inside of me. It was going to happen again. That was the silver lining to all of this, wasn't it? He was going to fuck me again...and again... I was literally salivating at the certainty of it, even as I winced at the pain of my swollen ass – which only made me think of other kinds of pain, the good kind...Pavlov's dog...

He strolled into the kitchen to check the tiles when I was done. I couldn’t look him in the face, so I kept my gaze low. His dick was hard and huge, making a tent of his pajama bottoms as it swung tightly with each heavy step. “Good job. Nothing half-assed about it.” He moved in next to me, made me flinch.

“C’mere,” he said calmly, stepping past me and into he hallway. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”

I followed him back to the bedroom, doing my best not to stumble. My adrenaline was pumping, but it wasn't dread. I knew what was coming soon – just as I knew the worst was over, for now. The callous, burrowing punch of his cock was heaven compared to the cruller punishment I'd just endured. I knew that now, just as I knew how silly I'd been to ever fear it. I wanted to feel it again...to relish it this time, now that I could fully appreciate it...wanted it so badly my stomach was tensing up into itself, making me queasy. I could taste it in the back of my throat, like bittersweet bile...

We entered the bedroom, but he didn’t lead me to the bed. He gestured towards the master bathroom instead, a pristine cave with baby blue walls, white counters, and a cavernous walk-in shower behind great sheets of frosted glass. “You need a shower,” he told me, looking over my bruised, sticky nakedness. “Go on – get in there.”

I looked into the bathroom, then at him. He was standing in the doorway, his back against the threshold,all but blocking it completely.

“What did I say, boy?”

I moved in, pressing against him as he started down at me. It was impossible not to press the length of my naked body against his chest and belly and groin, pulling the thin membrane of his clothes with me as I did. The smell of him, the feel of his solid frame against me, over me, strong as a redwood tree… My cock stiffened to full mast, caught against his thigh before I could squeeze the rest of the way through. His hard shaft was pressing into my stomach, just above my pubes, making me –

He leaned into me, pinning me against the threshold with the sheer weight of his muscles. One hand clamped down on the small of my back, nerves tingling like insect legs, while his other hand wrapped itself around my cock tight and proper. I gasped and moaned like a willing bitch, and I felt my legs open up to his hands. He began to milk me ever so slightly, cruelly subtle, bringing me to a painful hardness. I was panting into his shirt, lost in his scent, happy to let it consume me like a cloud of toxic vapor.

The hand at my back moved down, squeezing my red cheeks slowly as they flinched, one at a time, before his thick thumb entered their sweaty cleft and pushed into the pliant valley between. I felt him smile when I gasped softly against his throat, making no effort to retreat from him. 

His other hand left my hard dick and ran roughly up my flank, past my chest, and grabbed my jaw, palm resting on my throat as his fingers stroked my beard. I grunted in surprise when two of those fingers entered my mouth, pushing past my teeth much as his thumb was doing down below, finger-fucking me at both ends. I found myself sucking on his fingers as the ring of my aching hole flared around the thick knuckle of his thumb, pushing deeper...

 “Good boy,” he said, his deep voice reverberating in pit of my chest. “Now I’ve gotta put some sheets in the washer – and these pajamas, thanks to you pissing all over them...you're such a filthy little dog. Filthy. While I'm doing that...you’re gonna take a nice long shit. I can feel it in there...” He jerked his thumb around in my ass, and I could indeed feel the sinking weight of a load inside of me.

Even after everything he'd put me through, this new shame crushed me right into the floor. It was disgusting! I was disgusting…

He was still stirring my hole with his thumb, though...stroking my scruffy throat as I whimpered into his beard, bright red with pure embarrassment even as my hard cock twitched against his belly.It was humiliating...but I knew he wouldn't be touching it if he didn't want to. He was enjoying this. He wanted me to feel exactly what I was feeling, savoring the look on my face. So...I kept feeling it.

“Best you get rid of that before you hop in the shower. Get nice and clean for me – and make sure you wash this thing out. Plenty of soap in there...” His thumb was churning my ass, tracing the widening ring of my channel. “Make it nice and clean for me, inside and out. Clean enough to eat off of, understand? Now go on.”

He pulled his thumb out of my ass and slapped it hard, one last numbing bloom of pain. I stumbled through the threshold and righted myself, catching my breath, head light and floating far above my shoulders. “Matches are on the sink, sweet-cheeks,” he cooed, and slammed the door. I was alone again, and the silence rang like church bells.

I slid aside the frosted glass door and opened the door of the giant walk-in shower. It was bleached and gleaming with one small, glazed window pressed up against the ceiling. A bench of white tile jutted out of the wall across from the showerhead, large enough to lie down on. Some of his black pubic hair was stuck in the drain, but that was the only thing marring it. I turned the water on hot and left it to warm up.

My shame dropped out of me all at once when I sat down on the cold toilet,lubricated by all the slimy substances he'd deposited since I'd arrived.I flushed immediately. I wanted to forget it as soon as I could – forget that my ass was anything but a sheath for his cock, a source of raw pleasure. It wasn't working.

More of it burped out of me without warning. My hole had been stretched wide by his fingers, his cock, all but destroyed – I couldn't close it fast enough. I could hear him stripping the sheets off the bed in the other room, whistling to himself. There was no way he hadn't heard… I flushed again, angry at myself, the pathetic state of my weakened body. How would he ever get hard enough to fuck me, after hearing something like that? I was disgusting...

I heard him leave the bedroom and crank up some classic rock tune on the stereo, drowning out everything else. Not that it mattered now. I cleaned myself methodically, clinically, and flushed one final time. When I was finished I took care to light a match, cleansing the air with sulfur dioxide. Just like he'd told me to do...

I stood in front of the mirror seconds later, washing my hands like a robot. The glass was steadily fogging up, but I found myself looking right into my own eyes. They were puffy and pink around the edges from the crying he'd wrung out of me, and my beard was crusty with dried snot just below my nose. I looked tired. Delirious, even. Shell-shocked…a victim.

Man up.

I blinked. I looked down my beaten body at my hard cock, which was resting against the rim of the sink like a snake in the grass. It had betrayed me completely, right along with whatever part of me he'd been manipulating deep inside my guts, in the once-secret core of me...I shook my head, and my mind was clear again for the first time since I'd gotten out of bed. He was turning me into something I wasn't, something I never should have been. It was more obvious than ever, now that he'd managed to beat me into opening my legs to him. He'd turned pain into an erotic thing – not just the pleasure-pain of his cock fucking into me, but any pain at all. The memory of twisted nipples and beaten ass made my dick leak right into the sink, because I knew he'd enjoyed every bit of it, of me…

This wasn't just a fling for him. The way he was treating me...it was possessive. Obsessive. Scary. I couldn't trust him to stop, once this weekend was over with. He could hold his threats over my head for the rest of my life, calling me up to this house any time he got horny for me, and I'd have to submit to it. Worst of all, I knew I'd wouldn't be able to keep myself from liking it. If I couldn't get away from it, couldn't let myself forget how it felt...I'd be his slave before long, his dog, rushing into his lap the second he whistled for me...

What was it he'd said, when all this started? “If you get your ass fucked that hard, for that long – you'll start craving it. It's all you'll think about whenever your pretty dick gets hard. Not girls, not pussies. Just cocks in your ass.” 

It was true even now, less than twenty-four hours after he'd popped my cherry. My ass was aching for his cock. I was already hooked.

“No man wants that...not a real man..”

I slammed my fist into the sink, finding my anger again. I was alone for now, out from under his spell – I had to think while I could. I'd failed earlier because I'd made a direct attack, tried to act like a man, to compete as an equal. He'd known just how to beat that out of me...more importantly, he held all the cards in our sick little relationship. I had to find some leverage over him – had to find some way to even the playing field. He was stronger than me, and he knew it – but he was underestimating me. I was smart. I could be devious, and I'd have to be. Merciless, just as he was. I could do this...

My cock throbbed, clouding my thoughts, ready to betray me as soon as his body was pressed against me again. There was only one thing to do about that, and I'd have to be quick.

I planted my legs apart and glared at myself in the mirror. I took my cock in hand and began to stroke it maliciously, listening for the sound of his footsteps beneath the pulse of the thrumming rock music. I wiped the fog off the mirror, watching the lean muscles of my torso flex and stretch. The sight of my young body aroused me in a way I'd never considered, and not just because it was an object of his lust. I ran my hand over the dark fur of my groin and up the flatness of my tender belly, watched as my body hair bristled against my palm…this was a man's body. A man. I was a man. I could get out of this. I stroked faster, pumping my hips into my hand until my balls were smacking against the edge of the sink, making them ache. I watched my cock grow even larger as the mirror began to fog up again…

I twisted my nipple, hard, and bit my lip to keep from yelping. The room had filled with a floating steam, thick in my lungs as I panted through my nose. My cock was throbbing with need. I looked down at myself, pale skin blushing, sweating, covered in steamy, beading moisture. This was a man's body...my body...I'd teach it a lesson for betraying me like that...punish this filthy piece of trash...oh yes…

I twisted my other nipple until I was grimacing despite myself, imagining my own cock punching deep into my ass like a piston – and then I'd cum, hard, exploding all over the sink. I cried out silently, rigid against the wet porcelain of the sink – and then it was over. My body was buzzing. My head was clear…good.

I turned with a start, suddenly terrified that I'd see him standing in the open doorway – but it was still shut. I was still alone.

I cleaned up the sink as fast as I could, flushed the mass of tissues down the toilet, and rushed into the shower. The water was perfectly hot, but pain was different for me now. The torrent washed over my body in a searing, cleansing wave, purifying my skin. I took the soap and lathered myself up, taking extra care to polish my ass inside and out, bubbly foam stinging me sharply in deep places, revealing tiny wounds I didn't know I had. I flushed it all out, then did it again. Again.

I tested my clean, soapy hole, pushed my fingers into it as far as they'd go. It was still loose, still receptive. I found some measure of control over it once more. I made it clench around my knuckles, loosen up, clench again. Good.

My cock didn't need much encouragement to get hard again, especially with all the attention I was paying to my hole. Even so, I know it would last a lot longer now, no matter what he did to me. I smiled, and dared to feel the slightest bit of confidence.

You see? I told myself. Now you know something he doesn't. You've got a little bit of leverage already...