Date: Mon, 15 Oct 2012 13:08:42 -0500
From: Douglas Marx <douglas.marx.4@gmail.com>
Subject: The Trunk; Story codes: M, MM, ds, mc, ws, mast

Disclaimer: This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and
should only be read by adults as defined in your jurisdiction. Erotic
fiction is illegal in certain states and countries.  It is the reader's
responsibility to understand local laws.  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
males only that are over the age of 18.  If this is not your thing, leave
now.  Furthermore, the events depicted in this story are fictitious. Any
similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental.

Remember: In real life, play as safe as possible preferably no exchange of
bodily fluids.

My stories are copyrighted.  Please do not use my stories without my
permission and please forward all comments to douglas.marx.4@gmail.com.

Support nifty.org.  I have shot many a load reading the stories here and I
bet you have too.  Show appreciation at
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.  Thank you.  Please enjoy.

Story codes: M, MM, ds, mc, ws, mast

The Trunk

God I was tired.  I had been driving for hours.  It was now around three AM
and I had to pee bad, plus I needed to just get out of the car.  I was
driving on a four lane state road, not an Interstate and I was getting
concerned about finding a rest area.

Suddenly, I was in luck.  There was a sign for a rest area in 1 mile.  I
pulled into the small place, just big enough for a few cars and maybe a
semi or RV.  There was a restroom, thank God, with some picnic tables in
the woods behind the building.  The rest area was poorly lit, one light at
the entrance from the road and one light over the building.  That meant
only part of the parking lot had any light on it.  The light did extend out
to the picnic tables, which is why I knew they were there.

I got out of my car, stretched, cursed myself for driving so long without a
break, and walked over to the rest room.  The door to the women's faced the
parking lot.  The door to the men's was facing the woods on the backside of
the building.

Too tired to think anything of it and needing to piss, I walked into the
men's room on the opposite side.  I pulled out my cock and started an
intense stream.  I had so much piss stored in my bladder that the release
sent a wave of shivers through my body.  I yelled out, "Oh God!"

Just as I was finishing, I heard the door open.  That scared me.  I thought
who else would be along at this time of night.

I was shaking out my dick getting ready to put it away when this Italian
God walked up to the urinal.  He pulled out a slong at least 8 inches soft.
I couldn't help but look and I was too tired to think that I was doing
anything wrong.

He turns his head to me and says, "Like what you see, faggot."

"Oh, I'm sorry Sir.  I didn't mean anything by looking.  I'm just so tired
I'm not thinking clearly.  I apologize."

Next thing I know he grabs the neck of my t-shirt and pushes me against the
metal stall wall.  "No need to apologize faggot, I got a big dick and fags
like big dicks.  It's only natural."

"Sir, please.  Let go of me.  What are you doing?"

He spits in my face and says, "I wanna see you naked faggot.  I wanna see
what I'm gonna get."  He took his big, meaty paws grabbing the neck of my
t-shirt ripping it completely off me in one pull.  Now, I was scared.  This
guy was strong and he could do whatever he wanted to me because I am weaker
and not a fighter.

"Well, look at the pretty faggot.  You're just the cutest little faggot
I've seen in a while."  He takes one of my nipples and twists it hard as I
scream.  "Get the rest of your fucking clothes off now faggot.  I ain't got
all night to examine my new boy."

Now, I am uncontrollably crying but I do as he says.  I unbutton my jeans
shucking them and my underwear down in one fell swoop.  I kick off my
sneakers and pull off my socks followed by the pants.  "Sir, what are you
going to do to me?"

He spits in my face again.  "I said, faggot, I want to see what you got.
Looks pretty good for a pussyboy cocksucker.  You are a pussyboy
cocksucker, aren't you fag?"

I could not believe my answer, "Yes Sir, I am a pussyboy cocksucker."  I
bowed my head.  Why would I admit that to this man?  Why is my cock so
hard?  Why is this happening?

"That's what I thought.  You are a pussyboy cocksucking faggot.  I can spot
them a mile away and I got lots of them."

Everything was happening so fast I didn't have the presence of mind to put
together some of the pieces of his words to me.  "I wanna see what I'm
gonna get."  "...examine my new boy."  "...I got lots of them."  I just
went along hoping that I would be able to get away from him at some point.
Yet, I couldn't help but notice how incredible he was.  He was 100% Italian
decent; no question.  The muscles on his body were pushing at his clothes.
He had a big nose that clearly had been broken at a few times probably in
fights.  He was still clothed, but he had his dick out and it was
impressive flopping around as he forced me to remove my clothes.

"Come with me."  He took me out the door of the men's room and back to the
picnic area.  There he threw me on the ground and said, "You know, with all
the excitement of meeting my new pussyboy, I haven't pissed yet.  Open your
mouth faggot."

I opened wide.  I wanted it.  I wanted his warm yellow recycling center
down my throat.  He started aiming at my mouth, but eventually he pissed
all over my head and all down the front of my body.  When he was done, he
spit again in my face.

"I like to mark my new meat, fucker.  Now grab your dick and jerk it off
looking at me."  I did as I was told.  This I wanted.  I wanted to jerk
looking at this man.  It was like being at home in front of my computer,
but this was live.  "I wanna see if my new fag has the spunk.  Come on
fucker.  Look at me.  Look at your hot Master.  Wouldn't you love to have
this?  Wouldn't you love to touch this incredible body?  Wouldn't you love
to be with this all the time?  What would you give to have a real man in
your life, faggot?  What would you give?  Come on queer.  Jack that pussy
cock.  Jack it.  Let me see you shoot a fag load.  Worship me fucker.
That's all you are good for, worshiping a real man.  Taking care of a real
man.  Being at a real man's disposal.  Not the worthless faggot queer you
are.  Come on fucker.  Shoot that pussy cock.  Shoot it faggot.  Shoot it."

He was screaming at me by this time demanding I spurt and I did.  I shot a
huge load all up my stomach and chest as I fantasied about being with this
man, this Master, this God.

When I calmed down a little, he smiled a wry smile and spit in my face one
more time.  "See ya' faggot."  He walked away.

I watched him until I could not see him anymore in the darkness beyond the
bathroom.  I laid there for a few minutes and the tears just started to
stream down my face again.  But, this was not tears from fear, this was
tears from the fact that this man had taken me to the deepest level of my
soul and then left.  I never felt so empty, so worthless, so helpless in
all my life.  It was as if the very heart of whom I am; was shown to me,
and then stomped on telling me, `No, you don't get to have that.  You don't
get to feel that.  You don't get to be who you truly are.'

Eventually, I mustered some strength to go back into the bathroom.  I
washed up the best I could, trying to get the majority of the piss off me,
as I knew it would start itching soon.  I put my pants and shoes back on.
I threw the remnants of the t-shirt in the trash.  I walked back to my car.

When I got to my car, there was an envelope between the wiper and the
windshield.  I lifted the wiper, took the envelope, got in the car and
turned on the light so I could see.  The outside of the envelope was
addressed: "To faggot".  I opened it up, unfolded it, and read it in
disbelief.

"faggot:

Thanks for the interview.  You are a worthy candidate.  If you want more,
take your clothes off right now, step out of your car, and leave all your
possessions including your keys inside.  I will pull up, popped the trunk,
and you can come with me.

If you don't want to, just start the car and drive away.

Master"

My first thought was this is scary.  I'm not going to do something like
this.  But, what my head was saying to me and my actions were two different
things.  I started to unbutton my jeans.  I leaned down and took off my
sneakers.  I pushed off my pants.  I took a deep breath and opened the car
door.  I got out.  I threw the keys on the seat, shut the door and stood
there naked.

I heard a car start farther down the parking lot.  I was so dazed earlier
it hadn't occurred to me that I didn't hear Master leave.  Coming into the
light was this big, black Mercedes S.  The trunk lid popped.  Master got
out.  He didn't say a word.  He lifted the trunk lid and gave me a welcome
motion with his hand.  I walked over, got in the trunk, and he slammed down
the lid.  I heard the driver's door close and felt the Mercedes take off.
I had no idea what was going to happen to me but I knew that this was the
only choice I could make.  The man had shown me who I really am.  How could
I say no?


Thank you for reading.  All comments are appreciated at
douglas.marx.4@gmail.com