Read How To Rape A Straight Guy Online

Authors: Kyle Michel Sullivan

How To Rape A Straight Guy (16 page)

I leaned in an’ began suckin’ on his tits.  First one, then the other.  The hair around ‘em felt soft, like down, an’  teased my nose an’ lips an’ tongue as I played with the brown knob.  His pecs were hard -- not soft like a chick’s breasts or even Carter’s -- an’ pressed back against my chin when I brushed against them.

He gasped at me, “Please, don’t...do...that.”

I sucked on ‘em, harder.  I cupped his ass in my hands, playin’ with the bit of hair that danced across it.  It was full an’ firm -- not flat or soft like a chick’s ass or hard like my first punk’s -- an’ fit my hands perfectly.  I loved playin’ with it almost as much as he hated me doin’ it.

Slow in.  Slow out.  No rush.  Not today.  Enjoy.

I straightened up an’ ran my hands up his legs to curl in around his thighs.  The hair was a bit coarser but still felt fine, an’ it tickled my wrists as I pumped.  I was dizzy from the feel of it.

“C’mon...man,” Shayes grunted, “today, okay?  Get it...get it over with...will ya?”

I withdrew almost all the way then pushed back in, even more slowly than before.  “Fuck him,” was the first thought in my mind, an’ I almost let go with a chuckle that welled up deep inside me.  Sometimes I crack myself up.  An’ that almost brought out another laugh.

I looked down at his dick an’ saw it finally startin’ to really stir.  I think for the first time in my life, I actually considered another man’s dick as somethin’ worth appreciatin’.  An’ as dicks go, Shayes had a nice one.  It wasn’t as round as mine.  More like a little oval.  But the skin around the shaft was smooth an’ clean an’ the head -- the helmet, my mom called it the one or two times she bathed me; what a weird fuckin’ thing to remember at a time like this -- that was just as smooth an’ a soft pink.  My head gets to be huge -- almost too big in proportion to my shaft -- but his looked like it might be just the right size.  Looked like I was about to find out.

Little faster.  Little faster.  Not much, though.  Don’t want this to end too soon.  Just a little longer.

Shayes hadn’t noticed he was gettin’ a hard-on but Lenny sure had.  He was watchin’ from the side of the bed, his camera back on its tripod.  It an’ his eyes were glued to the guy’s dick.  I watched him watch it grow bigger an’ bigger till it was floppin’ around on his gut.  It wasn’t gonna be anywhere near as big as mine but Lenny didn’t care.

Shayes finally realized he was hard an’ looked down at his dick, stunned.  “What th’ fuck?”

I snickered, “Never done this before, huh?  Right.”

Shayes shook his head, “No, man -- what’re you doin’ to me?  What th’ fuck -- ?”

I shoved deep into him, harder than I had before.  He cried out an’ looked away from me, his breathin’ gettin’ faster an’ faster.  His dick was still hard though not quite primed yet.  So I looked at Lenny an’ nodded for him to go for it.

Lenny carefully slipped onto the bed -- out of the way of his camera -- an’ slowly reached over an’ touched Shayes’ dick.  The guy jolted an’ tried to wiggle away, but I’d already dug my fingers into his thighs an’ had a good lock on his legs.  He couldn’t do a fuckin’ thing I didn’t want him to do.

“No, don’t...don’t!”

Lenny looked at me an’ I smiled, “Go ahead.”

He took Shayes’ dick in one hand an’ began to stroke it.  He used his other hand to caress the top of Shayes’ balls.

The guy started to freak, screamin’, “No!  No!  Don’t!”

I started pumpin’ into him, faster, deeper, my own breathin’ gettin’ to be as fast as his.  Lenny kept milkin’ him for all he was worth.  Then he leaned down an’ licked Shayes’ shaft.  Shayes tensed up, tighter than I’ve ever felt any of my punks do, an’ his ass squeezed hard against my dick an’ I almost shot my wad, right there.  But I held on.  Barely.  An’ I kept pumpin’.

Finally, Shayes’ dick was about as hard as it was gonna get.  An’ I felt Lenny’s head down there, suckin’ on it.  Shayes’ cried out an’ started hollerin’.  Didn’t do a damn bit of good for him.  I was still rammin’ him an’ Lenny was still suckin’ on him an’ he was still tied to the bed an’ his legs were still caught in my grip.  An’ finally, after maybe ten minutes of us workin’ on him, all he could do was let it rip!

He jolted.  Almost pulled himself off me an’ did yank his dick from Lenny’s mouth.  An’ then he started to fire!  I mean, he splashed shit all across Lenny’s face an’ onto his own gut.  Some of it whipped up to land on my chest an’ it seemed to go everywhere.  I just held on, but then his ass slid back down on my dick an’ he gripped me so hard, I couldn’t hold back anymore.  I plowed deeper into him an’ let go.  Let go until my balls ached from the spasms.

What’s wild is, I was so lost in the whole crash of -- of feelin’s an’ emotions an’ fireworks an’ all, I didn’t know when Wayne an’ Lenny pulled me back by my hips to let my dick slide out of Shayes so the camera could catch it spewin’ all over the guy.  All I know for sure is -- when I was finally done, I collapsed on top of Shayes an’ curled my arms around him an’ ground my dick against his in a way that seemed like religion.  An’ then...an’ then I kissed him.  On the lips.  Full an’ complete an’ gentle an’ without hesitation.  My mouth seemed to mold into his, an’ I tasted somethin’ salty an’ moist.  Maybe my cum, maybe his, maybe just the sweat on his skin.  An’ I...I think -- I’d almost swear -- no, I’m sure...abso-fuckin’-lutely sure...he kissed me back.  An’ somethin’ behind my heart gave a leap.  An’ I almost started to cry from it.  Then I drifted away, wishin’ I could stay there with him, forever.

Chapter Seven

I had this dream while I was out -- I think it was a dream.  I think it was then.  Anyway, I was flyin’ through the sky, all in my prison clothes, on my back with my first girl.  The first girl I slept with -- what’s her name — Ramona.  Yeah, Ramona Verdugo on top of me.

Shit, ol’ Ramona.  I hadn’t though about her in years.  Golden skin.  Raven hair.  Eyes so brown they looked black.  An’ tits?  Oh, man, she put melons to shame.  Fuckin’ Ramona.  We were hot an’ heavy in high school -- her a junior, me a freshman.  Didn’t make sense, but we collided in a hallway one day like a couple cars on the 101 an’ stayed stuck to each other till fuckin’ Anthony got me busted.

Anyway, our first time together was up on Zuma Beach, north of Malibu.  Her old man had this primo ‘57 Dodge Coronet convertible.  Red with white trim an’ interior.  Little fins on the tail.  Looked like it was flyin’ even when it was sittin’ still, an’ nobody was allowed to drive it but him.  Threat of death kind of shit, y’know.  So this one day early in spring, we cut class an’ she palmed the extra set of keys she wasn’t supposed to know about, an’ I drove us down the Ten an’ up PCH.  It’s funny -- fifteen years old an’ I already knew how to drive, smoke an’ drink football players under the table.  An’ I had that nice little business goin’ in the “weed” department at school, so I always had money.  Yeah, I had my mom an’ her fuckin’ husband tryin’ to lay claim to some control over me, but that wasn’t goin’ anywhere.  So all in all, life was good.

God, that Dodge could go.  Even with its too-cool push-button automatic.  It had a V-eight with power enough to snap your neck if you hit the gas too hard.  An’ drivin’ it that first time, glidin’ up the coast on a perfect California day, Ramona beside me, her left hand in my crotch workin’ me up, my right hand around her shoulders an’ strokin’ one of her tits -- I was fuckin’ king of the world.

We played on the beach, the rest of the day, then grabbed some sandwiches from a grocery store close by an’ talked this stoned surfer into buyin’ us a six pack.  He brought us fuckin’ “Miller Lite” for Christ’s sake.  An’ when we were done eatin’ an’ it was dark, we put up the top an’ got busy in the back seat.

Damn, that thing was so wide, you could stretch out on it.  I mean, I could then; I was still growin’.  An’ Ramona, she’s small for the size of her tits.  So we got all hot an’ heavy, kissin’ an’ touchin’ an’ grabbin’ -- she liked to grab my ass, for some reason -- then we whipped a blanket over us an’ I unzipped an’ popped out an’ slipped inside her without a thought.  Shit, I’d seem my mom fuckin’ guys so many times, I knew exactly what to do.  I remember bein’ impressed -- not surprised or happy or freaked out -- at how nice it felt before I went at it.

As we got close to the finish line, Ramona circled her legs around mine an’ grabbed my ass an’ pulled me harder against her.  I came first...lots sooner than I do now...so she kept pullin’ me against her till she was done.  Then she bit my left tit.  Drew blood.

I yelped an’ yanked away from her an’ said, “What the fuck?!”

She just chuckled, licked her lips an’ kissed my other tit.  Then she said, “That makes you mine.”

I laughed, an’ we went at it, again.

Like I said, we were together till I was sent to County.  Even her dad raisin’ all kinds of shit about us takin’ the car didn’t mean jack; we’d sneak it off anytime we wanted, since I’d been sharp enough to get an extra set of keys made.  Oh, I’d try to park it exactly like he parked it, so he wouldn’t notice.  But sometimes I was just a little too out of it to give a fuck.  We laughed our asses off about it -- till he sold the damn thing.

But then she heard about me an’ Paco an’ his vatos.  Seems this cousin of hers was in for shopliftin’ an’ got the skinny from one of the guards in exchange for a couple tabs of acid.  When she found out, she stopped talkin’ to me.  Wouldn’t answer the phone.  Wouldn’t even come to the door when I went to her place.  Only clue I got she knew was the last time I was there; her dad smirked at me an’ muttered, “Maricon,” an’ she told me she didn’t want to go out that day ‘cause she had a headache.  So I went out an’ asked a vato buddy of mine what that word meant -- maricon.  An’ he fuckin’ told me.  Fuckin’ Ramona fuckin’ dumped me ‘cause I got fucked.  Fuckin’ bitch.

So I shifted to the club scene, where only a couple people knew me, an’ built up a new rep till I finally collided with Connie.  An’ I put that cunt out of my mind.  Till this dream.

Like I said, I was flyin’ on my back, in my prison grey.  Her on top me, straddlin’ me, which she never did ‘cause then she couldn’t dig her nails into my butt.  She was tearin’ at my shirt with her hands an’ teeth an’ screamin’, “C’mon, you fuckin’ pussy, giddy up, giddy up!”  But my shirt wouldn’t tear.  Buttons wouldn’t come undone.  I had a ragin’ hard-on in my pants but the fuckin’ zipper was locked in place.  So she slapped me.  Fuckin’ hard.  An’ it fuckin’ hurt.  I thought you weren’t supposed to feel pain in dreams.  Then all of a sudden, it was Connie on top me an’ Ramona was under me, tearin’ at my ass through my pants.  She was usin’ her teeth.  Didn’t work.  Connie had her scissors an’ was tryin’ to cut the uniform away, but they broke.  An’ Connie started to cry.

Then Ramona dropped away an’ Connie an’ I flipped to where I was on top her an’ she froze into a statue.  That’s when I saw we were miles above the earth an’ we weren’t flyin’, we were fallin’.  An’ somebody was on top me, tearin’ my shirt away like it was paper.  Then tearin’ my pants down like they were nothin’.  I thought it was Ramona, again, but it was Father Tello.  Which didn’t make sense; he’d never tried to pull any shit with me, but now he we was feelin’ me up rough, grabbin’ an’ pokin’ an’ pinchin’ an’ proddin’ an’ whisperin’, “If only you’d let me.  If only you’d let me.”

Then Tello an’ Connie were gone an’ I was lyin’ on top one of that Dodge’s tail fins an’ I was still fallin’.  But now Wayne was standin’ in front of me, naked an’ slappin’ me an’ the ground was rushin’ up to me and then suddenly I was on it, but I hadn’t landed.  I was just...there.  Finally I looked ‘round an’ the world began to change shape around me.  Into that room.  Where I’d just fucked Shayes.  But I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, in there.  I remembered I was lyin’ on top Shayes when I drifted, but now I was off the bed an’ lookin’ at the floor but I wasn’t lyin’ on it.  Which didn’t make any sense.

That’s when I realized I was lyin’ on some kind of post with my arms droopin’ down the sides, so I tried to sit up but I couldn’t move my hands.  I yanked at ‘em an’ saw I was caught in the handcuffs attached to that hook in the floor!  My legs were caught, too!

What the fuck?

Man, I snapped awake then.  I looked around an’ saw I was on that leather-covered sawhorse.  Lengthwise, not bent over it.  My feet were chained to the legs, exposin’ my butt to the world, but I felt like I was covered, somehow.  I looked around an’ saw I was back in my briefs.  I didn’t get it.  When’d I put them back on?

I heard somebody gruntin’ to my left.  I looked over an’ saw Shayes tied to the chair by this wild system of ropes an’ knots that made him look like some macramé project.  Shreds of some old clothes -- not his -- hung from his shoulders an’ waist, like he’d been dressed an’ stripped, again.  An’ he was squirmin’ as if he’s in pain.  Which he probably was; there were some wires attached to his dick an’ looked like to his balls, too.  Some kind of transformer was givin’ off a soft hum under the chair an’ Lenny -- naked as fuck with a ragin’ hard-on -- was playin’ rough with the guy.  Two of the video cameras sat on tripods, tapin’ it all.

“It really works, Wayne,” Lenny chuckled.  “I can feel the current.  Just touching his tits -- “ he touched ‘em with his dick, the sick fuck “ -- gives me a little shock.  And look how he loves it.”

Which was bullshit.  Even as fuzzy as I was, I could tell Shayes was out of it.  His eyes were rolled back an’ his lids were flutterin’ an’ all he could do was twist an’ moan.

Shit, how long had I been out?

Lenny kept runnin’ his hands all over Shayes, gigglin’ like some crazy clown, twisin’ an’ slappin’ an’ pinchin’ in ways that even hurt to watch.  The guy just groaned.  His breathin’ was harsh.  Lenny snickered, “He’s about to cum, Wayne.”

I heard Wayne’s voice say, “Good,” an’ then he did.  Not huge, like with me.  Just a little.  But enough for Lenny.

Shayes’ head rolled forward, like he was passin’ out, so that skinny fuck turned off the transformer, shifted the cameras around, grabbed Shayes’ hair an’ yanked his head back.  He slapped the guy, twice, then leaned in close.

“Now be nice or else,” Lenny said, then he pulled Shayes’ mouth open an’ slipped his dick inside.  Shayes didn’t fight him.  Didn’t do anything at all.  Probably couldn’t.  But Lenny still acted like he was forcin’ him.  An’ he was happy.

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