Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2013 11:43:47 -0800 From: Douglas Marx <douglas.marx.4@gmail.com> Subject: Downward Spiral of Jim; Chapter Nine; Story codes: M, MM, bd, sm, exhib Disclaimer: This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers. By getting this far into nifty.org, the reader acknowledges his/her legal right to be here. The reader will hold nifty and/or the author harmless. Warning: This erotic fiction contains sexual experiences between fictional adult males. If this is not your thing, leave now. Furthermore, any similarity to any person, place or thing living or dead is merely coincidental. There is no safe sex in this story because it is fiction. Remember: In real life, play as safe as possible preferably no exchange of bodily fluids. My stories are copyrighted and are not available for use under any condition. Please forward all comments, notes and criticisms to douglas.marx.4@gmail.com. Support nifty.org. We have all shot our loads reading Nifty. Show appreciation at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thank you. Enjoy. ----------------------------------- Please check out my other Nifty.org stories: Growing Up Naked http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/growing-up-naked/ Naked Whore http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/naked-whore Put Out to Pasture http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/put-out-to-pasture Santa's Slave Training http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/santas-slave-training Special Product Design http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/special-product-design The Trunk http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-trunk ----------------------------------- Story codes: M, MM, bd, sm, exhib The Downward Spiral of Jim – Chapter Nine Overall, our Master/slave relationship began to work and flow. I kept reminding myself of the alternative (bathhouse job/tiny apartment) verses being with a hot, albeit unaffectionate man, in a nice home with food and clothing. The year went by fast. As we were coming up on our anniversary, we sat at dinner one night and the cop turned to me announcing, "Fag, we are going to get married." I could have done a spit take if I had a drink in my mouth. "Go on." I said. "Marrying you would look good for my career if I had a husband. The department likes their employees, straight or gay, married. They find that married employees are more well-rounded. They don't become compulsive about police work. The advantage to you, cocksucker, is full health benefits." "Now that was the most romantic thing anybody ever said to me." I said, sarcastically. I couldn't help it. He slapped me across the face. "Listen, asshole. This is the deal. Take it or leave it. You got it a hell of a lot better than you had a year ago and don't you forget it, queer boy." "Yes Sir. I apologize, Sir. I just had to make a little light of it all, Sir. You have to admit that it is not storybook." "Fag, I get it. I'm not that insensitive, but this is business; I get a husband to advance my career and you get health insurance and a pension if I am killed in the line of duty. I think that it a pretty good deal." "Yes Sir. I agree with you, Sir. It is a good deal. In fact, it is a great deal. I am sorry for making a joke of something so practical for both of us." "That's better fag. You understand my point. We will see our attorney to draw up a new pre-nup agreement. Getting married will make our responsibilities to each other more complicated. Now, in the event of my death you will get everything. In the event of your death, I will get your trust. In the event of a divorce, which I don't ever see happening, we will still walk away neutral with no claims on each other." I responded. "Yes, Sir. I'm familiar with this type of agreement. I think that this is very fair." I did recognize where he was coming from and he was evenhanded. I found it fascinating he did not ask me to marry him. He told me we were getting married. I knew then that if I was going to object, it had to be now. The funny thing was I didn't want to. I was used to being with the cop. The only part of our relationship that frustrated me was his inability to touch me and show affection. In all other aspects, I was fine. I liked to serve him. I liked him fucking me. I loved looking at his body. I enjoyed living here. When we were out in public, we were actually friends. The cop treated me almost as an equal, except I knew from subtle nuances that I had my place under him. The cop continued to instruct the plans. This was not a conversation. This was an order. "There are going to be two ceremonies. The first ceremony is for a close-knit group of people. That is the actual official ceremony. It will also be a secret from everyone else." As I said, the cop compartmentalized our life together and getting married was no different. "The second ceremony will be in front of the justice-of-the-peace at city hall with my cronies. They will know nothing about the fact that we are already married. The wedding is set for next Saturday. It will be here at the house. The affair will be catered so all you have to do is entertain the guests." "Yes Sir." What I didn't understand was that I was the entertainment. The cop left me a note the following morning telling me that a delivery of plastic and fabric was coming today. I was to greet the deliverymen naked and ask them if they wanted to be sucked off or if they wanted to fuck me. The instructions were to cut the plastic and placed over all the furniture and carpet in the house including the guest bedrooms. Place the fabric over the plastic on the seating areas and the beds in the bedroom. He didn't say why. The deliverymen came with a lot of plastic. This was going to be work. I offered my body to them and they accepted. I sucked one off while the other one fucked me hard. It was the first time that I had sex with someone other than the cop in a year. It felt good. The night at the rest area didn't count as sex. I showered and went about putting plastic and fabric everywhere. I assume the cop felt the party would be messy and didn't want to damage anything. When he came home that night, he provided some answers. "This is going to be a nude wedding. Everyone will be naked including the servers for the catering company. You are to oblige anyone sexually that has an interest. There will be instructions that it is to be vanilla sex, no SMBD. This is my wedding present to you; the ability to fuck, suck and serve since that is how we met I thought it was appropriate. "There will be an official photographer to give us lasting memories. No guest will be allowed to take individual photos and everyone must sign a release form that they are a willing participant in the event and a confidentiality statement saying that they are not to discuss this outside of the group that attends. I will have four professional security guards safeguarding everyone's clothes and valuables, plus making sure that no one sneaks a camera into the event. They will also handle the release forms. "By the way, you will not be able to wash any cum off your body until after the party is over. You can wash your hands to eat food, but nothing else." "Yes Sir." "Dearly Beloved, We are gathered here today to join this man and this man in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore – is not by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate, these two people present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace." I wanted to scream, `Me, I can show just cause!' But, I kept my mouth shut. It was bad enough I was standing naked next to a man I was obsessed with but didn't love. Across my chest were the words "MY FAG BITCH" in magic marker and my back had the inscription "ANYBODY'S HOLE" with a big arrow pointed to my butt. The reverend concluded, "I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may fuck your bitch." The cop pushed me to my knees and forced me to make love to his cock until it was rock hard. Then he moved me so that I was looking straight out into the audience as he forced his massive cock into my pussy. He fucked me raw and hard, playing with his nipples as usual while many in the audition jacked their dicks. Tears streamed down my face. The photographer was getting multiple shots from every angle. Close-ups of my tear stained face. Pullbacks of the cop fucking me. Shots from the floor looking up catching the MY FAG BITCH printing on my chest. Overhead shots of the cop's cock plowing my cunt making sure he caught the words ANYBODY'S HOLE on the small of my back. On top of that, the photographer was rock hard. Every so often, he would stop for a second to slap his dick from side to side. I knew he wanted a piece of my pussy as well. Now I was married to the cop. I didn't love him and I didn't even get a kiss. Instead, I was the show. I was doing whatever was necessary to survive, thus marrying the cop. This wedding was the most humiliating day of my life. Even more so than getting my naked photo on the front-page being hauled out of the restroom that day so long ago. The cop had one of the biggest orgasms he ever had with me. It must have been the show. His orgasm knocked some sense back into me. I stopped feeling sorry for myself for a while and trooped on with the party. The cop pulled out of my hole. He walked away without even a thank you and went around to be congratulated by his friends. During the entire time I was being fucked, the reverend was jacking his cock. He was an older gentleman – a grandfather type. Once the cop walked away, the reverend moved into position and shot a load all over my face. The photographer set his camera on rapid shutter to capture the cop's orgasm, as well as the reverend's cock spurting jizz. He immediately replaced the cop's dick in my ass with his. He was as rough as my husband. He grabbed my waist and pounded my hole. He shot his spunk quickly. I had been married less than ten minutes and two men had deposited their sperm up my glory hole. Others moved into a line to either fuck me or have me suck on them. The photographer started taking pictures again. I shifted my thinking into service mode and forgetting about my lot in life. About a half hour after the service, this meaty hand seized my arm and pulled me away from the crowd. I turned to look; it was the cop's best man, Rick. This guy was all man. He about 5'9" weighing in at close to 260 lbs. He had a big ball belly and was super hairy all over except, of course, his head, which was completely bald. He worked out at our gym always being rather playful with me. "Come with me, Jim." Rick took me into the guest bedroom. We walked in and I distinctly heard him lock the door. He pulled me to him and kissed me hard. Now I really started to cry. He sat me down on the side of the bed and held me tight. I cried hard into his big hairy chest resting my head on his stomach. He held me and petted me until there were no more tears. "Talk to me, Jim." "Oh, oh, o...k. Rick, this has been the worst day of my life, worse than going to jail. I always thought that when I married a man, I would be in love with him. I don't love the cop. I am in this relationship because of my obsession and he takes care of me. Rick, he has never kissed me on the lips. He never allows me to touch him. I service him with my mouth or my cunt. He deposits a load and walks away going about his business. I don't mind being his 24/7 slave. I don't mind servicing him at his whim. He is an incredibly hot man and I lust for him. I just wish he would show some affection towards me too." "Jim, you aren't going to get that from him." Rick responded. "He is just not the affectionate type. He doesn't like to be touched. He is infatuated with himself. But, haven't you figured out that he cares for you?" "What? No. What do you mean?" "He cares for you in the only way he knows how. He provides you a home, food, and clothes. The only reason he married you was so that you would have health benefits and spousal survival benefits." "I thought he married me because it would look good on the force." "That was his excuse. Trust me, he would be and is very successful in his job with or without a spouse. I know there was only one reason, to take care of you." I started to weep again. "Then why did he treat me this way in front of his friends?" "That's how he is. He likes a show. He is a narcissist and an exhibitionist. Plus, he wants to always remind you that you are his bitch. What better way to do that than to display you and use you at the biggest event of your life. It will keep you right-sized and mind-fucked. It worked, didn't it?" "Yes, Rick. It did." Rick and I sat quietly for a little while as I dried my tears. We pulled the plastic back and the covers laying on the real sheets. He held me. The next thing I knew Rick was kissing me. He said, "You like that." "Yes, Rick." "Here's your wedding present from me." With that, we started in on a good, old-fashioned romp in the hay. We kissed for a long while before we even got around to sucking tits or cock or ass. I loved touching his big meaty muscles and rubbing my cock all over that firm belly. He had huge nipples that I devoured to the point they were red and raw. Finally, he got on his back and placed my pussy over his thick beer can cock. He took hold of my waist and bounced me up and down. My stiff prick rubbed against his belly while I held on manhandling his pecs. Fuck this was hot. We stared into each other's eyes and shot our loads simultaneously. I spewed my jizz from just the friction of rubbing my cock on his stomach. I leaned over floating my body on his furry gut and kissed him with such passion. I felt his copious arms and paws hold me tight. "Thank you Rick." "You're welcome, Jim, anytime. Now let's get back out to your wedding reception." We all moved to the table for a lovely meal. The food was delicious and the conversation surprisingly fun. The cop stood up to make an announcement,"I would like to thank you all for coming this evening in whatever way you did." This was met by some chuckles. "I particularly want to thank my faggot. Without this slave's help, I would not be the man I am today. We have an unconventional relationship to say the least, but it does work." Then the cop turned to me and said, "Faggot, I love you with all my heart. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I appreciate everything that you do to help me with my life. I could not do it without you." I started to cry. OMFG, he loves me. Rick was right. What a mind fuck this is. "Now get under the table cocksucker, and pleasure our guests." There was wild applause and laughter. I did what I was told. I slunk under the table starting to suck the first cock I could find. I didn't care what I was doing at the moment, the cop said he loved me. Now all I was thinking about was that I didn't love him. That I was only in it because of what he gave me. I went all in-my-head for a few minutes talking to myself as I wrapped my mouth around yet another stiff prick. I obviously didn't know what love is between two men because in each of my relationships, I was not in love. I was only there for service. I knew that I wasn't in love with the cop. Was I supposed to love to be married? Maybe not. I was getting what I wanted and he was getting what he wanted. Let it go, Jim, and suck some cock. That's how you got here in the first place. You are a whore in service to real men, not a faggot like yourself. It is fitting what you are doing. The other comment of the evening that kept going through my mind while more cream was applied to my face and gullet was from Rick. Rick said, "Anytime." What did he mean by that? I didn't want to think about that too much. The cop had done a lot for me today and it was my duty to serve the guests. I finally got my brain under control and dutifully did my duties for the party. I continued to have polite conversation with the occasional load. I watched Rick out of the corner of my eye. He was having a nice time with others too. Man he was hot. Of course he was. He was the cop's best friend. The cop wouldn't have it any other way. The invitees finally started putting their clothes on bidding their ado. Everyone had a great time. Within short order, the caterers cleaned up the kitchen, the tables, picked the glasses and plates strewn around. This must have been quite a show for the caterers, but in a city like this, I am sure they had seen worse. I did enjoy sucking a couple of them off. They were cute. Finally, it was just us in the house. "Fag, clean up the plastic and put it in the garage for trash day. I'm going to bed." "Sir, did you mean what you said at the table?" "Yes fag. I meant what I said. And, by the way, I know you don't feel the same so don't pretend you do. Ok fucker." "Yes Sir." "Don't wake me. Suck me off in the morning. Good night fag." "Yes Sir." He walked away and I started cleaning up the mess. When finished, I went to the bedroom and got down on my doggy bed. I didn't bother washing off the magic marker. I thought that was interesting. I felt the need to leave it on. I was, in fact, his fag bitch. ----------------------------------- I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please send any comments to: douglas.marx.4@gmail.com