Birth of a Power Bottom
I drove for about an hour, and during that time, my mind began to clear. My friends had their fun, but when I returned, I knew it was time to sort everything out. Sam and Dave had been my friends for years, always standing by me during tough times. They even tried to talk to John on my behalf after the breakup, but it hadn’t made a difference.
It was as if Johnhad transformed overnight. If I had known that one seemingly perfect beach day would plunge my relationship into chaos, I would have chosen to stay away. As the familiar streets passed by, it dawned on me where I was headed: the candy store where John and I had first crossed paths. The memories flooded back, a bittersweet reminder of the joy we once shared, making the drive both nostalgic and painful.
I turned off the motor and stared at the throwback design logo that the cookie company was known for.
I stepped out and ordered some coffee and some cookies.
What the fuck is going on! I heard the voice inside me yell.
I took a slow sip of my black coffee. I had to tell myself, no, convince myself, that things could go back to normal. This crazy shit with Sam and Dave could not go on.
I was sitting there lost in thought.
“Dean?”
I looked up and smiled, reflexively, not thinking, as I came face-to-face with John. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt the flutter in my stomach, my dream boy.
He sat down across from me with that concerned expression that always made my heart melt, a slight slant in his head, his baby blue eyes looking deep into mine trying to figure out what was wrong.
No, NO, I thought, don’t pussy out!
“What’s wrong … Do you want to talk about it?”
I composed myself, and I let anger get the best of me.
“Don’t fucking worry about it; we are strangers last time I checked...”
I wanted to hurt him.
He fidgeted uncomfortably as he forced a smile.
I got up to leave the table, noticing his fidgeting fingers as he avoided my sight. My 5’6” boy was wrapped in deep blues that contrasted his pale white skin and jet black hair.
I turned and walked in silence and anger as my feelings came crashing down on my heart.
“I’m sorry, ” I heard the whisper, “I miss you.”…maybe in some other life….” He trailed off. His words were full of pain and regret.
I stood frozen over the trash bin as he bolted out. I knew him well enough to know he was overwhelmed, hurt, and needed to escape.
I didn't bother to look back; I waited as if frozen until I could no longer hear his steps.
“Fuck!” I yelled at myself.
I got in my car and roared back into town. It was about 9pm when I got in the bar.
“Dean. Been a minute.” His rag paused mid-wipe across the sticky bar. Those bartender eyes—always seeing too much—raked over my slumped shoulders, the hollows under my eyes. “Christ. You look rode hard and put away wet.” he chuckled, not realizing how right he was.
A glass slid toward me, amber liquid catching the dim light. “House special for the walking dead.”
Then he was gone—swallowed by the last-call stragglers shouting orders.
Won't lie—I drank every shot I could get from the bartenders 'til the screaming in my skull about Johnfinally shut the fuck up.
"You're done."
Mike snatched the shot glass right out of my fist. "No more, Dean." His knuckles whitened around the rim. "Never seen you like this... ever." Anger flashed behind the concern. "Coffee. Now. You drink it, then crawl home. Clear?"
No mistaking it, he'd have Connor drag me out back and dump me like trash if I argued.
I managed a sloppy smirk. Nodded.
"Good." Mike's shoulders relaxed a fraction. "Connor lives for kicking ass after last call."
That's when I saw it, pity. Sharp as broken glass in my drunken haze.
He slid the mug over. "All of it."
I chugged. Hot, bitter liquid hit my gut like sunshine punching through storm clouds. Took another hit. Still hammered, but now I could probably walk without face-planting.
The second Mike turned his back, I was gone.
Night air slapped me sober-ish as I stumbled across the parking lot. Fumbled the truck keys. Missed the lock twice. “C’mon you fuckin’—”
Tires screeched like a cat in a bear trap as I peeled out. In the rearview, Mike stood framed in the bar’s neon glow, shouting something lost to the wind.
“I’mmmm fiiine!” I yelled at the empty cab, knuckles white on the wheel. Took the sharp turn onto the county road too fast, gravel spitting like gunfire under the chassis.
Blacktop unspooled ahead—no streetlights, no witnesses. Just me and the whiskey haze and the lie curdling in my throat:
“Worries too goddamn much…”
The drive home? Easy.
Those last steps to my front door? A fucking war.
I slipped twice on the stairs, cracked my knee on concrete, sat wheezing in the dark for five minutes. Somehow made it inside.
Door slammed. Took one step.
Face met carpet. Hard.
The sting flared, then faded. Too tired to care. Too drunk to move.
Fuck it.
Darkness wrapped around me like an old blanket. Sweet, silent, and gone.
…..
….
I was dreaming... I was sucking cock.
“That’s it,” John’s voice echoed, distant, distorted, like a bad connection.
My dream boy. How I’d missed him. I wouldn’t fail him again.
I opened my mouth, took his cockhead between my lips. “Yeeesssss,” he moaned, his balls heavy against my brow as he pushed deeper. “Mmmmm.” I sighed.
Johnwas always passive. Frail. But tonight his thighs felt like steel cables under my palms.
He was on top. Taking charge. “Since when did John grow calluses on his knuckles?”
No resistance. I wouldn’t lose him over pride.
“More, baby. Take all my cock.”
His purr vibrated, lower, rougher. I swallowed reflexively. My hands slid up his legs, gripped his ass. muscular. Too… unfamiliar.
“All of it, baby.”
He sank deeper. My throat convulsed. “Gggrrrrrhhh”
“MMMMMMM!” I arched as his mouth swallowed my cock, aggressive, skilled. One hand fisted my shaft; the other yanked my hair as he fucked my face. Johnnever pulled hair.
This time apart had changed him as well.
Why did his balls slapping my forehead feel so real? And so good?
The cold glass bottle shocked me.
“Two deep breaths, lover boy.”
The voice came from the wrong direction.
“Yes, baby.” I inhaled, chemicals burning, dream-haze.
My legs lifted. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” Joyous in tone
“Do you want me, baby?”
“Yes… you’re my dream boy.”
His cock rubbed my hole. “Shit!” I braced.
“Ooohhh, slowly, Johnnnnn—”
He sheathed himself to the hilt. No dream ever stretched this much.
“Baby!” I grunted, feeling unfamiliar coarse hair against my skin.
“Shhhhh.” The bottle again. Two more hits. The rush was violently physical.
“Yes… fucking tight,” he growled… John?
I arched, offering my body like a trophy, sculpted abs, thick cock dripping. I wanted him to look at what he was taking.
“Do you like getting fucked, Dean?” He never used my name in bed.
The bottle. Inhale. “Make me your slut, baby,” I slurred.
Darkness swam. Poppers and whiskey blurred the edges of the room.
“He’s ready.”
Hands wrenched my arms wide, trapped. My mouth opened in protest, choked instead on thick heat sliding deep. Gagged.
“That’s it, Dean…”
A voice that wasn’t John’s. Wasn’t mine.
Cold dread washed over me. Dave. His hips pistoned against my lips.
“Christ, he’s tight” Sam’s groan vibrated through me. I clenched down, panic seizing my muscles.
Then warmth engulfed my cock—wet, hungry. A tongue swirling.
“Mmmphhhhh!”
Pleasure and terror warred. I arched, straining against the hands pinning me.
Dave withdrew. Air scraped my throat. In the gloom, Nathan’s head bobbed between my legs, devouring me like a man starved.
Cold fingers pried my jaw open. Dave spat into my mouth. I swallowed reflexively.
His phone flashed. Click. Click. Capturing my shame.
Sam’s thrusts stole my breath. The world dissolved into sensation, helpless, electric, owned.
“Dave—shit—I’m close,” Sam gasped, hips slamming like a piston. Our sweat-slicked bodies slapped together in the dark, a brutal rhythm.
“Nathan! Get your ass over here!” Dave’s command cut through the haze.
Nathan slid beside me, eyes glinting. His cock stood rigid, glistening in the low light, a silent dare.
“Uhnngh?”
Hands clamped under my arms. Sam and Dave lifted me like I weighed nothing, muscled back arching, balls swinging helplessly. A flash of absurd pride cut through the shame: They move me like a bottom in a cheap gay movie that I would like watching online.
“Open him up, kid,” Dave growled. “We’ll wreck this slut so hard”
The popper bottle clicked. Sam shoved it under my nose. Hiss. Sweet chemical burn. My vision blurred.
“AAAAAAGH!”
They dropped me. Nathan’s cock speared deep, stretching, filling. I writhed, impaled.
Nathan’s groan vibrated through me. “Fuck… yes…”
Dave’s laugh was dark velvet. “Look at him take it. Like he was made for this.”
Nathan’s face twisted, pure rapture, as he watched his wet dream come true: me, impaled on him. His hands mapped my muscles like territory he’d conquered. Memorizing. Claiming.
Sam and Dave flanked him like handlers.
“Ride him, Dean.”
My body obeyed before my mind caught up.
Shame burned like knives in my gut.
“Fuck yes, you’re unreal like this!” Nathan gasped. I ground down, hating how good the stretch felt.
“Grab his cock,” Sam ordered. Nathan’s fingers closed around me. Every lift of my hips tore a groan from my throat as he jerked me in time. Sweat slicked my back, oil on burning metal.
Dave’s phone lens ate me alive. Circling. Zooming. Documenting every twitch of surrender.
“Quit riding like a pussy, big boy,”Sam snarled.
My hips snapped harder, automatic, brutal.
“FUUUUUCK!” Nathan arched, nails biting my thighs. “Such a fucking slut—”
The words cracked something in me.
I rode him like the end of the world, not for pleasure, but because my body knew nothing else.
Darkness pulsed behind my eyelids.
Sam rose, moonlight carving the perfect curve of his ass as he fed himself into Nathan's mouth. Slow. Deliberate.
"Remember how, Nathan?" Sam's voice cut through the haze, a serpent's hiss. A reminder. A threat.
Nathan's choked sounds should've repulsed me. Instead, my gaze locked on the way his throat worked, swallowing, yielding. My hips moved harder against him. Traitor body.
The bottle pressed to my nose. Inhale.
Chemical sweetness burned. Again.
Shapes bled together, Nathan's cock jamming into me, Sam's thrusting shadow, Dave's teeth at my shoulder. The window yawned wide, moonlight pooling like liquid silver on the floor.
Fight.
My fingers dug into Nathan's hips.
Control.
But Dave’s laugh slithered into my ear: "Look at him take it. Just like you did."
The room tilted. Nathan's eyes met mine, desperate, yet triumphant, as Sam sheathed himself completely into his stretched mouth.
"Let's make sure you remember what you are."
Dave's voice slithered through the haze as his cockhead pressed against my stretched rim, burning, splitting a live wire jammed into my spine. Nathan groaned beneath me, buried to the hilt as Dave forced himself in.
"Open up, slut..."
His teeth sank into my neck. My body jackknifed, trapped between them, as he sheathed himself fully. Nathan's gasp vibrated through my guts.
"YES." Dave's arm snaked around my throat in a victory chokehold. "Take it. All….of it."
"FuuuUCK—!"
The scream tore raw from my throat as they moved, a brutal counter-rhythm, Nathan driving up, Dave hammering down. My balls slapped Nathan's stomach with every thrust. Agony. Ecstasy. No difference now.
I was being double stuffed
Something primal detonated in my chest, lust, thick as motor oil, smothering every protest.
"You love this, don't you?" Sam taunted from the shadows.
Nathan’s "Yesss" tangled with my guttural "FUCK YES"as Sam fucked Nathan's mouth like a glove. Spit rained onto my thigh. Nathan's eyes rolled back, drunk on degradation.
Dave laughed, dark, possessive and pistoned harder. "Good boy. Now…beg for it."
“Fuuuuck meeee!”
My own voice, cracking like dry kindling, foreign and desperate. Pain and lust twisted together as the wave crashed over me.
Couldn’t fight it. Didn’t want to.
Hands fumbled down, fisting my own cock. Eight inches of betrayal. Jerked hard.
Fuck it.
Sam and Nathan splitting me open. Owned.
Moans tore loose, high, animal sounds, as they carved their names into my nerves.
“Now, Sam!”
Cock swapped from Nathan’s mouth to mine. No pause. No mercy.
Choking. Grunting. Slapping flesh.
Nathan pistoned into my ass. Dave hauled me up by the hair, arch, present, take it, and slammed home alongside him.
Double stuffed. Stretched raw in both holes
Fire in my veins.
I jacked myself faster, hips bucking. “More, I gargled!”
A toy. A hole. A thing shaped for their use.
And I … I loved it.
The climax hit like a seizure, electric and absolute.
No escape. Dave’s grip on my wrists became iron. Sam’s fingers twisted in my hair, rooting me to the earth.
“He’s cumming!” Nathan’s voice sliced through the haze.
Slaps landed like punctuation marks, crack, crack, crack but pain dissolved into pure sensation. My body arched off, tendons straining. A sound tore from my throat, half scream, half sob as the first wave detonated.
“AAAAAAAaaaaahhhgh!” I cried out as I surrendered to all I was feeling, giving myself over to the pure joy of being double fucked, mouth stretched. Tears rolled down my face as the first shot landed all over Nathan's neck and chest. "What a slut!" I heard Sam say as he looked down on me, he continued to slap me across my face, but it did not matter I was in too deep,
“Look at him,” Sam breathed, wondering, cutting through the cruelty. “Pure fucking surrender.”
my second shot blew out of me making me howl, cum landing on Nathan's abs and belly button. Dave’s laughter vibrated against my spine. “Made for this…” he said victorious as he and Nathan did not skip a beat on pummeling my ass as one.
Final surrender wasn’t shame. It was annihilation.
The last convulsion emptied me, hot cum slobbered all over my hands “FUCK MEEEEEE” I squealed, wet sticky cum slidding down to my cock, and then onto my still bouncing balls. mind, muscle, soul. I floated in the wreckage: used, owned, free.
Sam’s palm rested on my heaving chest. Not a slap. A claim.
“You're welcome, slut.” Dave hissed in my ear.
I must’ve collapsed. Came to face-down, ass-up, presented.
“Here we go.”
Nathan’s voice dripped with hunger as he speared me in one thrust.
No warning. Just invasion.
I grunted, half-pain, half-shock. as he hammered into me with pure fucking joy.
“God, he’s such a good bottom,” Nathan panted, fingers digging into my hips. My body rocked like a ragdoll on the ruined sheets. As Dave pulled on my nuts making me hollar for their amusement.
“Fuck….coming!” Nathan's breathing rushed to catch up with the speed of his thrusts.
His climax hit like a quake hot spill flooding my thighs, his shuddering weight crushing me.
Through blurred vision:
Dave and Sam’s phones glowed like predator eyes. Recording every twitch. Every broken sound.
High-def proof I wasn’t Dean the Top anymore.
I was just… meat.
Sam’s fist knotted in my hair, yanking me to my knees.
“Open wide, slut.”
Two cocks jammed against my lips, Dave’s thick crown, Sam’s leaking tip. I bucked, choked, but their thighs caged my skull.
“Two in your ass… now two in your mouth,” Dave rasped. My jaw screamed as they forced themselves deeper. Stretched. Split.
Somehow… I took them.
Sam high-fived Dave over my head. Flashbulbs popped. Tears streaked my cheeks, ignored.
I was nothing but a rag doll in their hands.
Sam and Dave pounded into me, stretching my throat, my vision blurred. Thick saliva bubbled past my lips, dripping onto the sheets. My eyes bulged, tears carving hot tracks through the mess on my face. Time dissolved. There was only:
The slap-slap-slap of skin, Dave’s fingers twisting in my hair, Nathan’s mouth swallowing my cock in single rough plunges that kept me hard, I choked. Gasped. Tried to scream.
Useless, I was theirs to use now.
“I’m coming!” Dave roared. Sweat gleamed on his corded neck as his hips stuttered. I gulped salt and shame. “Fuck … ME TOO!” Sam slammed home. Swallowed again.
They released me. I collapsed.
Their eyes held the same verdict: broken. perfected.
I rolled face down into the sheets afraid to look at them.
“Mind if I join?” Nathan’s voice came like a slither.
No warning, just his cock spearing my wrecked hole again. I arched into it, a traitorous moan ripping free.
“You love this,” he hissed, biting my ear. “Gave my ass to Sam for this… Not leaving ‘till I fill you your hole to the rim” Nathan biting into my neck “an ass for an ass, and yours is mine all night”
Sam and Dave cheered as he pounded harder, the sounds of their phones followed my every move, grunt and expression.
I pushed back, sobbing… Goodbye John, I heard in my head as I gave in again, fucking myself on him while the truth curdled in my throat:
Theirs. A hole. A victory.
