Date: Sun, 17 Mar 2013 01:00:24 -0400
From: Somewhat Perverse <somewhat.perverse@gmail.com>
Subject: The Rules, Part Two

The Rules

Part Two: The Second Rule Is Broken, and So Is the Hero's Ass

MM+, MF+, bd, ds, hm


Deidre put her hands to her hips. The crop jutted from under her arm like
general's swagger stick.

      "Well," she said. "It seems price has been established: one dollar."
She bent beside the whiteboard, erased the word FIVE, and replaced it with
ONE using a black marker. Her hindquarters waggled as she did so, on
purpose I'm sure. Then she surveyed the crowd.

      At least thirty people stood before me now. A few of them had the
older look of professors or staff, and there was a woman or two, but most
were young men – athletic types from the nearby frats who had stopped to
see the show. In the early summer heat, they wore next to nothing, exposing
their strong arms and toned legs. A few were ugly, but I'd beg and pay for
just about any one of them to fuck me any way he wanted.

      Not that I'd have a choice, and, of course, they'd be paying me: one
dollar each.

      "Now, who wants his ass?" Deidre asked.

      Half a dozen hands went up: an older man in a tweed jacket, five
jocks, and one blonde, short-haired girl's. I didn't even want to think
about how the girl intended to do me. And the old guy was, well, old.

      Deidre reached the same conclusion. "Not you or you," she said.
"`Only men under twenty five.' Can't you read the sign?" The professor
huffed and the girl backed away, disappointment on her face. Deidre
considered the remaining five jocks. They all looked mouth-watering to me –
broad-shouldered, toned without being absurdly huge: runners or swimmers,
not line-backers. She flicked her crop at the tallest one. He had dark,
cropped hair and pale skin, and wore a black tee-shirt and khaki shorts.

      "You," she said. "What's your name?"

      "Martin," he said.

      Deidre ran the tip of the crop over his chest. "Why should you be the
one to break in my slut's rear hole?" she asked.

      Martin's blue eyes flashed wickedly. He liked this game. He said,
"Because I have a really big dick," he said. "And I don't intend to have
any mercy. Plus, I have my dollar." He held it up.

      "How big?" Deidre asked.

      Martin gripped himself through his shorts. When the fabric pulled
tight, his package looked like the proverbial two pairs of the socks. "Do
you want to see it?" he asked.

      "No," she said. "But I think you should show it to the slut. He
should witness what he's about to receive."

      Martin tossed his dollar into the dish. He undid his shorts, pulled
them down, and cast them aside. One of the girls in the crowd caught them.
"Hold those for me," he told her.

      He strode up to my face, his cock bouncing under the hem of his
tee-shirt as he walked. When he got to me, he pulled that over his head
too, and cast it somewhere behind him. I didn't see if anyone caught it. I
had eyes only for his enormous pale cock.

      Perspective presented some difficulty, with it jutting right at my
nose like that, but I judged it to be about eight or nine inches long and
thick as a jumbo Kielbasa.

      Martin slapped my cheeks with it, bringing himself to full hardness.

      "Do you like that?" he asked. The head of his cock flared huge and
purple at the end of a paper-white shaft. "That's going in your ass. Do you
want it?"

      I nodded and moaned. I wasn't sure I could take it, but I certainly
wanted to try.

      Martin laughed and circled my rear. His ass-cheeks flexed over
muscular thighs as he passed the out of my field of view behind the stocks.
I imagined the strength of them driving his mammoth cock into my body, and
I shuddered.

      His unseen hands passed grazed my denim-clad ass. "Condoms only?" he
remarked. "What a shame. Well, toss me one," he directed Deidre.

      She looked at Martin over my shoulder, then back at my face. "I think
the slut has too many rules. `Condoms only. Only men under twenty-five.' No
wonder he's only worth a dollar. Who wants to use a hole with so many
restrictions? Feel free to bareback him," she declared.

      Oh shit! I thought! Oh shit! What about disease? What about the mess?
Oh, god! But meanwhile, Martin's hands were kneading my ass. His questing
fingers found my hard package.

      "I know you want it," he said. He discovered I'd cum in my pants from
Scott. "I can feel you're already damp."

      He opened my belt and unzipped my fly.

      "No!" I said. "Shit!" I thrashed against my restraints, and turned my
head to try see what Martin was doing. He slapped me on the ass.

      "Hold still!" he commanded. He gripped my jeans and yanked them down.

      "Let me out!" I screamed.

      "Shut the fuck up!" said Martin. He tore my briefs away. His monster
cock poked me from behind, hot and heavy and huge. Its tip bounced up and
down on my ass. Martin pressed the shaft against my cheeks with his palm.
"Ahh!" he said. "That feels great. Keep wiggling, slut."

      I looked at Deidre. This was against the rules we'd set up. Was my
wife really going to let this man rape me?

      Deidre leaned in close and stared me in the eye. "Here's the offer,
slut. You still have your safe word. You can use it. Martin will get his
dollar back, I will pack you up, and we'll go home. Maybe we can cuddle or
some other wussy crap. I won't think that much less of you. Or you can
accept my rewrite to your rules, and an endless line of boys will fuck your
hole till cum runs down your legs.

      This brought me up hard. Why was I doing this, if it wasn't for the
power, the humiliation, the cock? "Oh, damn," I moaned. "Yes!"

      "Yes what?" asked Deidre.

      "Yes, erase the rule! Change it! Anything. Just don't stop!"

      Deidre grinned. "Good slut," she said.

      She turned to the white board. Gingerly lifting one of the dollars
from the plate, she regarded the sandwich board and erased the line about
condoms. It now read:

HOLES FOR SALE

* Only men.

* Must be under 25 years of age

* Must show college ID.

* No ass to mouth.

* No shit. No piss. No blood.

* Do not harm the whore.

* ONE DOLLAR

The management reserves the right to refuse any customer at any time.



She made her erasure with a flourish, and when she stood back up, the crowd
cheered. My list of rules was getting shorter. I wondered how many more she
would erase.

      Deidre turned back to the four jocks who'd raised their hands. "You
boys can have his ass next. Or, may I suggest instead that the front hole
is still open for business and broken in."

      One of the jocks, a blonde in a blue striped shirt said, "I think
I'll wait for the ass."

      Two others stepped forward. The one brunette had his jeans open
before he reached my face. Another one, also blonde, was hopping on one
foot, trying to get his shoes off. I guess he wanted to strip all the way
down.

      From somewhere in the crowd, a boy asked, "What about the rest of us?"

      Deidre regarded the unseen man. "You're under twenty-five? You're
male. You have a college ID? Throw your dollar in the jar and line up at
which ever end you want."

      The third boy, thin with dark hair, pressed forward, cock already out
of his fly.

      Martin pulled my thighs apart. The rough callouses of his fingers
grazed my balls as they worked backwards towards my hole. "Just don't crowd
me," he said.

      The brunette thrust his cock at my face; it was pale, slightly ruddy
and thick, maybe a bit under six inches. Dark-hair and Shoe-boy stroked
their cocks at me from either side.

      "Is it okay if we use his hands?" Shoe-boy asked from the left. I
recognized his blonde baby face as it leered down at me.

      "Whatever," Deidre said. "Just try to shoot on his face or ass if you
come."

      The brunette laid his hands on top of my head and slid his cock into
my mouth. My tongue luxuriated against its silky under-side. As he pumped,
his body tensed and flexed inches from my face. Looking up, the line of his
abs filled my vision, and above that, an angelic grinning face.

      Shoe-boy pressed his dick into my flexing hand. I gripped it eagerly,
feeling its length, as the three boys crowded around me. The dark-headed
boy on my right inserted himself into my other hand. I pulled as best I
could on both of them, feeling of silky skin rolling over hard shafts. The
boys pumped each restrained fist like a hole.

      Meanwhile, Martin slid first one finger, then two into my asshole.
They felt slick. I knew Deidre had placed a basket of lube and condoms next
to my right foot. I assumed Martin had helped himself to some KY, although
maybe it was just his spit. His hands fanned out across my ass, finding
each cheek and spreading them. Then one withdrew. He pressed the head of
his cock against my hole. It felt like a fist against my sphincter. My
panic returned, and I thrashed.

      The crowd laughed.

      Martin placed his big hand on the small of my back. "Steady there,
little man," he said.

      I yelped around the brunette kid's cock. He didn't like that much and
punished me by thrusting hard into my mouth. My hands stopped working on
the other two boy's cocks, too; they made complaining noises.

      Martin drove his huge cock slowly but relentlessly against my
sphincter. My ring expanded against the tip. Then, with a pop, his head
shoved inside. His huge shaft followed, opening me up a crazy width. I
screamed, but whether any sound managed to make it out past the brunette
fucking my face I couldn't tell. Maybe no one discerned my cry of agony.

      Martin held his cock in me, flexing it. His smooth flesh felt so
good. I realized every cock, every toy I'd ever taken had felt of rubber –
actual flesh felt hot and hard and so human. How had I ever persuaded
myself that anything could feel so good as honest skin? My ass relaxed
around the intruder.

      Martin's stance changed. He gave a little lateral kick against my
ankles, gripped my hips, and abruptly withdrew his cock. Only his mammoth
head remained inside me. He lingered there a moment, then rammed into my
rectum again. His hips collided against my ass, and his balls slapped
against my perineum.

      As Martin's motions became less painful and more arousing, I turned
my attention to my tongue and hands. Belatedly, I realized that I'd been
neglecting the duties on my front end. I used my fingertips to explore the
cocks of the two boys on either side. My tongue took up a massage on the
brunette's shaft as I sucked. Soon an appreciative groan arose in his
chest, vibrating his belly and thighs: my reward. I had pleased him.

      I was just a set of holes now. Martin's huge cock rammed my ass, and
the brunette fucked my mouth. The stocks and pillories prevented any but
the most tiny of my own movements. I clenched against Martin. I tongued the
boy in my mouth. My fingers gripped the cocks in my hands. The boys using
me might have noticed. It might even have made them a bit hotter.
Fundamentally, though, they were just pushing themselves against me for
friction. My actions, my skills (if any), were irrelevant beside the basic
calculus of flesh on flesh.

      The brunette was the first to cum. He swelled and gave a shuddering
moan. He pulled out and blasted all over my face. The dark-haired boy on my
right couldn't stand it either. He yanked his cock out of my fist and aimed
it at my face. He let fly on me, groaning the while. I think he was ashamed
he hadn't lasted longer.

      The brunette dragged his softening cock against the mess on my face
and stepped back. The boy on my left – the one who had so carefully taken
off his shoes – hurried into his place. Without pausing, he jammed his cock
into my mouth and thrust. I gagged.

      Shoe-boy came almost immediately. He shot his load into my throat and
mouth and let me choke on it. The smell and taste of him was overpowering,
pungent, gooey. I licked my lips, catching the overflow.

      Martin was really fucking me now. The girth of his cock ploughed me
open. When his head jammed against the top of my colon, I shuddered and
groaned. His size challenged and pressed. But it no longer hurt -- it
merely held the promise – erotic, insistent – of hurt, should the pressure
cross a threshold.

      The three boys who had just cum crowded around my face. For the most
part, they stood naked, their taut bodies shining with sweat in the sun.
The black-haired one still wore his shirt and pants, but they were soaked
in perspiration

      Deidre said, "What are your names, boys? Names make things more
memorable."

      "Brett," said the brunette who'd been fucking my mouth.

      "Danny," said Shoe-boy.

      "Rob," said Dark-hair.

      "One price pays for as many turns as you want," said Deidre. "Anyone
else who wants, the slut's mouth is officially open."

      Would I be bragging if I said there was a rush? There was a rush. The
frat boys who had been lining up for my mouth pushed Brett and Danny and
Rob aside. There was a redhead, his shirt already off and his shorts open
around his fly. He was beating his meat in anticipation. To the other side,
stood a dark, curly-haired boy. He'd taken nothing off at all, but he
groped himself through his jeans. The third was a black boy. He'd already
shucked off his shorts and had them over one shoulder. He too stroked his
long cock – a deep color with a lighter pink head.

      Behind me, Martin approached his limit. His balls collided with mine.
His cock swelled beyond a size to which any boy had a right and became an
instrument of extremes. His hands held my hips in place. His belly collided
with my ass as he gave a last thrust.

      Martin groaned and pumped and screamed. His cock-head flared
enormously, and then he was shooting his load inside me, hot and wet.

      I did too, emitting a cry somewhere between ecstasy and pain. The
next round of frat-boys fell back from my face.

      My cock twitched between my legs, and I almost came a second time.
Not quite.

      Martin pulled back out, already softening. My ass clenched
spasmodically. Liquid leaked from my hole and ran down my legs into the
folds of my jeans around my calves. Martin wiped himself on my ass.

      "Not bad for a dollar," he said. He slapped my raised cheeks so hard
my legs wobbled. "Next!" he declared.