Date: Mon, 3 Dec 2012 01:13:54 -0700
From: Jay Dee <juliet.delta88 (at) gmail (dot) com>
Subject: Home part 3

Disclaimer: I own all the rights to this original work and give license to
the Nifty archive. Copyright 2012. All characters are fictional, any
coincidences to living people are entirely coincidental.

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wonderful project. Comments, critiques: juliet.delta88 (at) gmail (dot)
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The man rose up from the bed and stood beside me.

"Lift your pussy up," he said in a stern voice.

I stopped fingering my hole and complied.

"Higher. Stick your pussy hole as high into the air as you can."

I arched my lower back as deep as I could. My butt cheeks spread, pulled
apart by my tight skin.

"That's it," he said. "Spread it open for me."

He rubbed his fingers through the length of my ass crack. I gave in to the
energy building in my body and released a small moan as he brushed against
my aching asshole.

"I didn't tell you to stop sucking that dick."

I immediately tilted my body and went back to work on his monster cock,
pushing my face deep into his round body. He traced his finger around my
hole and I let out another moan through the mouthful of cock. He pushed a
finger inside of me and as a reflex, my hips bucked up. I moaned again,
this time sounding more like a whimper.

"That's a nice pussy," he said. "Tight. Hungry pussy."

He shoved his finger deep inside. Even with his cock pushing against my
throat, I whimpered loud enough to make me feel shame for emitting such a
feminine sound.

"Is this a real virgin pussy," he asked. "Don't you lie to me."

I take my mouth off his dick and look up to his face.

"Yes, sir." I pause, almost relishing this moment in which I have
surrendered all free will to the point where I have to beg this fat
man. "Please sir, be gentle."

He smiled another snarl and pushed my head back on his dick.

"Of course I'll be gentle." He pushed his finger inside again, making me
whimper. "It's my hole, isn't it?"

He didn't pull his finger out. It was buried completely inside my asshole
and made no movement. He was waiting for a response.

Reflexively, I arch my back deeper, as if I were trying to swallow more of
his finger, which was impossible. "Yes, sir. It's your hole. Please," I
feel shudders in my body again, "take care of it, sir. Please take care of
your hole."

As if that was his cue, the man waved my face from his cock. He walked to
the end of the bed. He was behind me. I hadn't touched it for over half an
hour, but my own cock had sprung to full erection. My ass cheeks are spread
wide and a naked man with a monster 12-inch cock was standing behind me. I
was so excited, I could feel pre-cum oozing out of my dickhead like a
fountain. This is finally going to happen. I'm going to get fucked.

My heart is a sledgehammer in my chest. I can't catch my breath. He wraps
his hand around the inside of my thigh and pulls it so my knees spread,
lowering my ass. The tension in my muscles strain, but I forget the pain as
soon as I feel a warm, ridged rod dig into my ass crack. He was rubbing his
cock between my buttcheeks as if he were fitting a sausage into a bun. I
didn't think it possible, but it feels even harder, more concrete, now than
when it was in my mouth. I moan lightly and rest my weight on my elbows,
exposing even more of my desperate hole.

I feel all the pressure concentrate into one sensitive spot. His dickhead
was pressed against my hole, fighting its way inside.

Almost instantly, I can feel it's impossible. The pressure against me is
enormous. His finger hurt enough, this was easily four times thicker and
more than three times as long. He grabs my hips and starts to pull me back
against him. Tense with fear, I push out as if I were taking a shit, hoping
it will ease his entry. His dick breaks the surface of my asshole and I am
flashed with one strobe of pain that stabs my entire body. The pain is
thick, monstrous. My body surges and throws itself forward. My arms
collapse and my face hits the mattress.

"FUCK! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!" I'm acting purely on reflex. This is the only
word I can form, a primal reaction to this intense pain. "FUCK!" A few
eternal seconds pass and I realize that I just failed. I failed at being a
faggot. I failed at getting fucked. I push my face into the mattress, as if
I could bury it both to escape the pain and hide my shame. "I'm sorry,
sir. I'm sorry. It hurts. It hurts." I try not to picture the man standing
behind me, assuredly frustrated and annoyed at the failed faggot writhing
in pain before him. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think it would hurt like
this."

The man lays next to me on the bed. My face is still buried in the
mattress.

"That's okay." For the first time, his voice sounds natural, if not
reassuring. "Most girls can't take my dick the first time."

He was obviously pleased with himself. I should have been annoyed at his
hubris. But the pain, which was just now fading, convinced me that he spoke
the truth. I feel his hand lie against the side of my stomach. His thick
fingers dig into my side. I can feel his damp body hair from his firm, fat
stomach on my smooth lean back. "My wife can't take it in her ass either,"
he says, running his hand up to my ribs.

I am finally catching my breath. My body, which was tense like a solid
block, is now easing.

Now, I notice my ass is still in pain. Unlike the rest of my body, the
muscles surrounding my asshole never stopped burning. It's because he was
pushing inside me. The thick monster cockhead is penetrating my puckered
hole.

"Wait, wait," I protest.

The man makes no pretense to stop. I feel his mustache on my ear. He
shushes me with a harsh breath. "Shut up," he whispers hard, spitting on my
ear. "This is how I get into my wife."

I have no course of protest. There is nothing I can say to make him
stop. And the truth is, I don't want him to. My ass continues to strain and
burn. I can feel the ring of my hole stretch. I stifle a whimper and writhe
on the bed. My back folds back and forth. The man senses that I'm trying to
squirm away from his dick so his grip on my stomach tightens, holding my
hips in place. I am helpless. My movements are restricted. All I can do is
push my face into the mattress. I stop fighting it and moan, whimper, cry.

"It hurts, sir." My voice is desperate, helpless and loud. I can't help
it. I know it doesn't matter what I say. "It hurts, sir. It hurts so much."
If anything, I am feeding his ego.

"I know it does," he says, not bothering to comfort me.

I am passed the point of pretense. I start whimpering and moaning like a
faggot. A woman.

Then I feel something new, coarse bristles against my smooth ass
cheeks. It's his pubic hair. He is inside me entirely. The thought makes me
horny all over again, but the feeling is eclipsed by the pain that starts
at my asshole and radiates to the front of my stomach.


"Holy shit," I say. I reach between my legs. His balls, sweaty and hairy,
are pressed directly against my ass. "I can't believe you are inside me."

He starts to pull out. For a moment, I worry that I am releasing a massive
shit. But I know this feeling. He pushes it back inside. I squeeze shut my
eyes and squeal. He does this again. Then again. His speed picks up. Behind
me, I hear his breathing become more rapid. Each thrust makes me squeal.

"I knew you could take it," he says through his ragged breathing. "You have
a nice hungry pussy. It doesn't want to let go of my cock."

He is right. The pain is almost unbearable. But now that he is inside me, I
can't picture life not stretched to my limit like this. The pleasure is so
intertwined with the pain, I can't figure if there is even a difference
between the two.

When he is satisfied that my ass is loose enough, the man pulls out,
causing a massive surge of burning energy throughout my body. He lays on
his back. "Get on," he says. I jump at his command. "Ride me, little
pussy."

Lying on his back, his belly rises up like a perfect, hairy bulb. Still,
his massive cock stands higher than the mountain of flesh just above
it. "Yes sir," I say as I squat over him. I sit on the master dick and
ignore the pain as best I can as my pussy envelopes the appendage
entirely. I ride this fat man as hard as I can. My ass cheeks claps against
his thighs, the headboard lightly bangs against the wall and the bed
springs squeak. Combined, it all creates a pornographic rhythm that
solidifies my cock.

Having regained some form of composure, I try to stifle my moans, which are
driven purely by pain. Even here, as I enact my deepest dream come true, I
remember in the next room, just passed this wall that the bedpost is
lightly banging against, the children watching television, with plastic
toys lying on the floor. My lungs want to release loud moans. I want to
sound like a man mired in this web of pain and sexual arousal. As I stifle
the moans, they come out as strained, high-pitched squeals. I sound like a
porn actress in one of those virgin scenes. This visibly pleases the man.

"Ride it with your sweet pussy. Ride it hard."

I slam down on his God-like penis with the full force of my 150 pounds. My
only regret, even as my ass aches, is that I can't fit more of him inside
of me. My life has disappeared; school, the team, my parents, nothing
matters but my asshole and his dick. I didn't care about anything but
feeling his massive cockhead punch the inside of my stomach. My own cock is
only semi-hard and flopped about with several silver threads of pre-cum
trailing the puckered lips of my foreskin. The only indication of time
passing is in my knees, which aches from the constant squatting and
grinding. My thigh muscles start to cramp, but even that pain can't
distract me from this sacred totem. I continue to work my ass on his dick.

I don't realize that the longer I am riding the man, the louder I get. My
moans are now less strained, deeper and louder. The man suddenly shoots up,
as best as he can with that huge belly constricting his movements. He
pushes against my chest, obviously trying to get me on my back. Taking my
silent command, I lean back and wrap my legs around his wide torso. He has
a little trouble finding his position, but I squeeze my asshole muscles as
tight as I can, refusing to let go of this massive probe.

My legs are stretched wide around his massive torso and the man is firmly
in place. He wastes no time and starts fucking me in perfect rhythm. With
my legs up, it feels like his cock was reaching a deeper level inside
me. The pain is new again. I start to moan with a full voice, unable to
stifle any part of it. Unable to care. His face betrays a sign of worry
about the noise I am making. Simultaneously, he is obviously pleased with
the damage he is causing inside me. He pumps his cock even harder, causing
me to release a full-blown yell.

"FUCK ... me!" I say, dragging the final vowel for several strained
seconds.

The pain is growing with such magnitude in this position. His weight, which
I'm guessing tops nearly 300 pounds, intensifies each fuckpump he drives
into me. As if every single pound of this fat bastard is concentrated on
his humongous dick that is repeatedly punching into me.

"Please, sir," I am completely out of breath, as if I had been playing ball
for the entire evening. "Please, wait. Stop. I need a minute. Please, sir."

Once again, I realize I am helpless. Entirely at the will of this man and
his cock. I push my hands out in an effort to stop him from pumping into
me. It does nothing. He keeps fucking me uninterrupted. If anything, he is
pushing harder now.

"You don't want me to stop," he saysin a condescending voice. "This is what
you came here for, isn't it?"

It was true. I wanted this. I still do, despite the agony that increases
each time his heavy, sweaty body slams into my butt.

He wraps each arm under my shoulders and pulls my body toward him as he
simultaneously thrusts into my hole with a sledgehammer force. My face
tightens like a fist, tears flood my eyes and a yell escaped my lungs.

"Isn't it?" He yells directly into my flinching face.

My eyes are sealed shut as my body tries to resolve the jolt of pain. "Yes,
sir," I say in a strained whisper.

He shoots two more concrete thrusts into me, like a punishment. Each thrust
is timed so they stress the verbs when he says: "Look at me, when you talk
to me."

I press my hands into my face as hard as I can, then ball them into fists
on my forehead. I force my eyes open to look directly into his ugly face,
tears are streaming down to my ears.

"I'm sorry, sir." My voice is shaking from the pain and anger. "Yes,
sir. You're right, sir. This is what I came here for, sir. This is all I
want, sir."

He stops his fuck rhythm. "Good, pussy," he says. He pulls out of me and
for a second, I am relieved to be free of the pain. Then I realize that I'm
empty. I'm only a gaping, sloppy hole.

The man slides the mirrored closet door open and picks up a t-shirt from
the floor. He throws it on the bed and, with one hand, lifts my legs by the
ankles and positions them on his shoulders. I am completely doubled over,
my knees digging into my chest and my hairy calves run up, framing his
disgustingly lascivious face. Immediately, I feel my asshole shift as if it
were allowing his monster dick even further inside of me. I let my head
fall back, with my mouth wide open as I contemplate my ability to withstand
what is coming next. My chest is thudding like a machine.

"Sir, I don't think I ..." I try to talk in smooth, even words, but my
adrenaline is boiling.

"Yes you can," he said, like it was a command. "It's my hole. I say what it
can and can't do. This pussy is ready for a real pounding."

His smile is now a full snarl. I have nothing, except what he wants to give
me. I spread both hands out to my sides, as if I were blindly feeling for
salvation. I get nothing but the blanket over the bed, which I ball into my
fists. It's the only power I have, grabbing the sweat-soaked blanket.

The man starts to fuck me. He fucks me hard. By the third thrust, he is in
a full push-up position, balancing his weight with his hands, his toes and
his dick, which is pounding into me with a force that feels like it splits
me in half. I have lost all control. I can't let go of the blanket. I can't
open my eyes. I can't stifle my screams. Each thrust pulls out of me a deep
throated moan.

The man grabs the shirt he pulled from the closet and stuffs it into my
mouth. It's not clean, it has a strong scent. It smells like sweat and
rancid sugar. It's a grey t-shirt and I can see browned splotches. Against
my cheek, I feel jagged crust scratching from the shirt. I know this
feeling, this scent. I have this exact same shirt at home, in my room,
under my bed. It's my cum rag. The shirt I use to wipe off the loads of
semen that I spill on my stomach, my bed, my desk. It's the shirt I have to
hide from my mom, so it hasn't been washed for weeks, if not months.

I don't know his excuse, but this heavy cum rag also hasn't been washed for
a while. The scent wafts heavily from the crusty fabric. It's
simultaneously grotesque and exciting. I inhale deep and quick in between
moans, as if I were huffing his dead, dried semen. I am screaming into the
shirt. Even if he weren't penetrating me with 12 inches of thick cock, his
weight crushes me. I can't tell if I still feel pleasure, or if my fear and
pain has become unbearable. Not that it matters. I am at the will of this
fat man who has not slipped his fuck rhythm for 15 minutes. The sweat is
beading all over his face. He cranks his neck and wipes the sweat from his
fat face onto my bare chest.

My saliva continues to collect in my gagged mouth. It creates an acrid
taste as it saturates his cum encrusted shirt. I have to concentrate on my
breathing, which is limited to my nose. Each exaggerated breath I suck in
is dull and stale from the scent of his cum rag.

Finally, probably 10 minutes after I'd had too much, the man pulls the
shirt out of my mouth and his cock from my asshole. Once again, I feel
shame from my exposed hole, stretched and slathered in lube. In my mind, I
picture a gaping void in between my butt cheeks, glowing red to the
world. He leaves me contorted with my ass in the air and lays back.

"Suck me off," he says.

I get into position but hesitate when my face gets close enough to his cock
that I can see the dirty lube in smeared splotches across his shaft. It
smells like moist plastic and shit. My shit. I hesitate at the thought of
sucking the discharge from my own asshole.

The man pulls my hair and tries to shove my face down on his dick. "Suck
it." He is making a clear order.

For the first time in what I guess is two hours, his cock is not inside me
and it's cold agony. Realizing this, I swallow his cock and suck. The sour
taste makes me retch, but I ignore the reflex and keep sucking. I
concentrate on his massive flesh rod and bob my head as fast as I can.

"I want you to swallow my load," he says, grabbing the sides of my
head. "Swallow every drop that I give you. It's a gift."

His arms stiffen and he takes control of my head, guiding it in a fuck
rhythm. I just focus on keeping my mouth wet and my suction steady.

"You know, sperm is a protein," he says. "You swallow my load and digest
it, it will help make you strong. My gift to you will help you build these
smooth muscles you've got. My cum will feed you and become a part of
you. When that happens, you won't need another man's seed inside you. Do
you understand?"

He pulls my head back. I try to fight his grip and wrap my lips around his
dick, but he doesn't relent.

"Yes, sir," I say, hoping he'll let me go.

Instead, he pulls my hair harder. "I own your pussy. That means I also own
your mouth-pussy." He pulls my hair again.

"Yes, sir."

"Say it." He pulls harder.

"My mouth-pussy is yours, sir. My pussy is yours, sir."

"Once you swallow my gift, I don't want you to swallow another man's seed."
He yanks again.

"I will not swallow another man's seed, sir."

"I don't care if another guy shoots a load in your pussy. It's a worthless
hole, a garbage can for dead sperm. But, it's my hole. Only I can say who
comes in your pussy."

"It's your hole, sir. Only you can say who fucks me, sir."

He continues to hold my hair with one hand. With his other, he grabbs the
base of his cock and swings it against my face. It's a heavy, fleshy baton
that feels like light punches. I keep my mouth gaping open, hoping he would
let me go so I can continue sucking. I think he finally notices exactly how
enthralled I am by his cock. He brushes it against my lips and I follow
suit with my tongue, trying to taste any cock residue.

"From now on, my dick belongs inside you." His voice is still friendly,
almost pausing between each syllable, as if he were talking to a
child. "When I say it, you get on your knees and suck."

"Yes, sir. I will suck your dick at your command, sir."

He traces his dick head around my lips again. I fight the urge to extend my
tongue just to get a taste.

"In fact, that is your home, now."

Both of my holes are aching and sore, but hurt even more that they are
empty. I want nothing more than his cock inside me somehow.

"My home is in your crotch, sir."

"In fact, that is your first lesson, hole. I will say `Home,' and that is
your command to come home."

"Home, sir. In your crotch, sir."

"Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."

He doesn't let go. He continues to hold me by my hair and stairs into my
eyes, as if he were trying to re-write the programming in my head with his
stare. He rests his dick against my bottom lip, but holds firm to the back
of my hair.

"Please, sir," my voice sounds like I'm sobbing, which isn't far from the
truth.

"Please what?"

"Please, sir. Please, sir." His grip tightens.

"Please what?"

"Please sir, let me su..." He pulls my hair with a new force and slaps my
face with his cock three times, in perfect beat with his words when he
says: "Please what, Hole?"

"Please sir ... Let me go home."

He finally releases my hair. I eagerly start to swallow his cock. He grabs
my head with both hands and guides it up and down his cock. I focus on my
lips and tongue, ensuring I suck as hard as I can.

He mutters sporadically as I work over his dick. "Make me cum,
hole. Swallow my load. Accept my gift."

His thighs start to tighten around my thin frame. His pelvis starts to
thrust up. I suck harder and bob faster, then faster. I get ready. His
breath becomes strong and ragged. With his cockhead at the back of my
throat, I feel the entire probe convulse. Then I feel a hot squirt, a
strong stream that makes me gag. I ignore it and keep sucking. Another
squirt. Then another. The man is releasing a heavy, strained sigh.

"Don't waste a drop," he says, still holding my head.

I stop bobbing my head, but suck from as close to his base as I can reach
and slowly work my way to the tip. I try to milk every drop of cum from his
dick. His pelvis surges lightly and I keep sucking. He finally lets go of
my head and I keep sucking. I want everything he can possibly give.

When I'm sure I've sucked out all the cum he can offer, I gently kiss the
head of his dick.

"Thank you, sir." I'm talking to the dick. I want to thank it for the two
and a half hours of agonizing ecstasy.

I look at the naked man with the massive, round, hairy belly lie in front
of me. This monstrous cock is now limp, lost in his bulbous, hairy
thighs. For a second, I have no idea what to do. I'm on my knees on the
bed. He shows absolutely no interest in further acknowledging me. I am not
needed here. I am not wanted here.

I slip on my running shorts and shirt. I sit on the floor to tie my shoes
but the blunt floor shoots a pain into my sore asshole. Instead, I take a
knee to tie my shoes. As I'm doing so, the man starts to talk, without
bothering to lift his head.

"Do you work?"

"Yes," I lie.

"What time do you go in?"

"I have to be there at 8:30. I usually leave at 8."

"Keep an eye on your email account. I need you to stay prepared the next
time I need your pussies."

"Yes, sir."

There is no movement. No sign that he's going to acknowledge me again. I
walk out. It's dark. I start the run home. Each step, as my weight crashes
down, my asshole thuds with light pain. My mouth smells like a bathroom
urinal, I can still taste cum. The thought makes me hard. I run home,
following my still aching hard-on.