PervInBER

Part 2 – The Fleshlight I was far from done. I picked up the piss-tube spewing urine all over the floor, and shoved it back into my whore’s mouth, pulling the mask back over his head as he looked at me with pleading eyes. While his cunt was surely loose at this point, he was going to need some extra help for what I was about to do to him. I rummaged through my bag, eventually pulling out a bottle of poppers with a special-made bottle cap with two separate openings poking out of it. I attach one of the openings to the whore’s breathing tube, and immediately felt the air flowing in and out the other end. Then, I found the screw at the base of the cap, which I slowly start turning, releasing poppers into the tube. I brought the end of the tube to my nostrils and took a deep hit, carefully adjusting the flow of chemical fumes to a rate that would fry the whore’s brain, but not completely knock him out. Getting horny again, I walked over to his hole. It was glorious: puffy, red, and most of all: used. The parts of his ass that weren’t covered in a sheen of sweat had cum hanging off them, sliding down his taint and clumping around his sparsely haired balls, dropping into the piss puddle below. His ass lips looked tired, unable to fully close, but not quite at a resting gape just yet, the beautiful red of his insides fighting against the sphincter – a rosebud just beginning to form. I grabbed my dick, carefully scooping up strangers’ cum as I brought it up to his opening, pushing in just a little, testing out those worn-out pussy lips. No resistance. Perfect. I pulled out, easily replacing my dick with three callused fingers, roughly pulling them in and out as I played with the boy’s prostate, eliciting a muffled moan. This should have been uncomfortable for him at this point, given the abuse he’s already been subjected to, but I guess the steady influx of poppers and chem piss were doing their job. I add in a fourth finger and pushed in deeper, past my knuckles and up to where the thumb meets the palm. This time, there was some resistance, and while the whore still moaned, he also pulled away a little. I watched his pussy lips loosen and tighten around my hand as I twisted it around inside. I teased the whore, gliding my cum-slick fingers along his prostate as I stretched his cunt every which way, hearing him moan, lightly rocking himself back-and-forth into my hand. I continued like this for a while, leading him closer and closer to orgasm. Soon he was panting like a bitch in heat, and I smiled knowing that the quicker and more deeply he breathes, the more those poppers would be frying his useless brain. Just as well. Better for him to be as fucked up as possible for what was coming next. With a sadistic smirk, I added my thumb to the next onslaught of his cunt, meeting the last bits of resistance the whore had to offer. I could hear his groans take on an air of pained urgency as he tried to pull his ass forward, away from my advancing fist. But it was no use. With his hands and knees shackled to the floor, the whore yelped and screamed into his gag until something in his sphincter just gave way, and my whole hand slipped through, engulfed by his newly forming pussy lips. His yelling was punctuated by deep breaths, each imbued with a potent haze of poppers, steadily relaxing him a little more into the fist lodged inside his guts. Not wanting him to get accustomed too quickly, I slowly plowed forward, pushing deeper and deeper into his insides with every squeal escaping the battered whore. Again, I met with resistance, but instead of pushing further, I pulled back – I wanted that bend in his colon to stay exactly where it was. Or at least where my dick left it. Continuing my retreat, I dragged the many loads coating his intestines out with my fist, leaving behind a gaping, creampie of a mess. Again, I dove in, meeting less resistance. I couldn’t tell if his sphincter was finally busted from all the abuse, or relaxed from the poppers frying his brain, but I knew I wouldn’t stop until his gape was permanent and his brain a pile of incoherent mush. I continued to fist him, harder, faster, punchfucking his weakening hole until the whore moaned and groaned with every insertion. But I never went deeper. Always I would pause at that bend in his colon, keeping another piece of him intact to later break and torture. The whore’s moans soon followed the predictable rhythm of my fist breaching his hole, and he started swaying back-and-forth, impaling himself on my arm. With my other hand, I reached underneath his stomach, finding the whore hard and leaking. Surprised the bitch could even get hard after all the chem piss and drugs he’d been force fed, I continued my onslaught of his guts, while his movements caused the whore to jerk himself on my hand. I increased my tempo, hearing his breathing become heavier, more labored, flooding his brain with poppers, with his dick getting harder and harder in my hand. Soon, I was standing still, watching this bitch in heat fuck himself on my forearm, greedily huffing in the fuck fumes killing off any rational thought. Then, just as he stuck himself as deep on my arm as he could go, he started cumming, his body shaking with every throb of his dick, emptying himself into my waiting hand. I waited for him to finish before pulling my forearm from his hole, and reached once more into my bag of supplies, fishing out a giant butt plug of ungodly girth – another toy I had special-made for an occasion such as this. Longer than my dick, and thicker still, even at its thinnest near the base, this butt plug doubled over as a fleshlight, perfect for loose cunts stretched beyond recognition, since it could still accommodate just about any cock around. And to top it off, a metallic spike at the tip. This bitch was about to have his insides shredded! I coated the butt plug with the whore’s worthless load and slowly began the insertion, ignoring the exhausted screams emanating from behind the mask. The truth is I wanted the whore to cum just before this part. Not to give him any pleasure, but to make sure this part was as uncomfortable as possible. I wanted him to be drained of all enjoyment, and his wrecked prostate to be completely worn out as his insides get packed with a log-sized toy. As it got near the bend in his colon, his screams intensified in urgency, probably due to the spike scraping along his insides. Soon, we were near the end, and with one final, painful push, I jammed the whole thing in there, his sphincter enclosing around the base, his real pussy showcase the fake one filling it. I got up to remove the poppers from the whore’s breathing tube, and not even 10 seconds passed before a cock found its way into the fleshlight, each thrust causing the toy to roughly scrape away at the whore’s intestines. As soon as the poppers were removed, the breathing tube was immediately filled with thick, white clouds. The whore just couldn’t get a break. I left him like that for a while, letting my dick rise as I watched him get stabbed repeatedly with every fucker that forced his way into the fleshlight, knowing the night would soon come to an end. Then, taking a few final hits of the poppers myself, I removed the whore’s mask once again and reattached the mouth spreader, fucking the piss out of him a second time. I let others have a go at his mouth as I started packing up the mask, waiting until the guy using the whore’s fake cunt finished dumping his load to pull the monster of a butt plug out, anxious to see if his insides would be pulled out with it. For a second, it seemed likely, with his distended, puffy ass lips dragging along the surface of the black toy, but once I pulled it out, they simply fell back into place, looser than ever before. No prolapse. I nevertheless decided to be satisfied with the impressive gape that was left behind: his hole was bathed in frothy white cum, covered with bloody streaks of pink from getting internally impaled over and over. I sunk my fist in him one last time, enjoying the total lack of resistance and hearing him utter a low moan halfway between pleasure and pain as my forearm easily slid into his velvety tender insides. “Alright guys, wrap it up! This bitch is done for the night!” I announced to the room when I pulled my arm out. I removed the fleshlight lining from inside the plug, dropping the outer layer into my bag and bringing the fleshlight with me. Again, I waited for the person using him to finish cumming, this time in his mouth. When he pulled out, I lifted my whore’s face, mouth spreader still attached, and started pouring the contents of the fleshlight into his mouth, watching the white spunk disappear down his throat. I removed the mouth spreader, then his wrist and ankle restraints, letting the whore just collapse on the floor as I packed them away with the rest of my things. Fleshlight still in hand, I turned the whore over with a kick, and squeezed the remaining dregs of cum onto his wounds – the cuts and scrapes on his hands and knees from rocking back-and-forth on the concrete floor – before grabbing the rest of my things and carrying the whore out. The bitch needed a break, and I needed time to come up with new ways to abuse his hole.

Hey there! Just wanted to thank everyone for the feedback on the story, and apologize for the long hiatus - university work kept me rather occupied in the past several months. Perhaps a general note on the topic is also warranted given some of the earlier comments on the split-off thread: this story is meant to be pretty graphic and violent, but it is only fantasy and imagination - not something I would condone (and most of it is definitely not something I would enjoy) in real life. I'm working on multiple different things at the moment, some of which are more consent-based. Regardless, chapter 2 is coming up soon!

Chapter 1 Men in various stages of undress surrounded me on all sides. Some were here for the music, moving in time with the techno rhythm. Others were here for the sex, fucking and getting fucked all over the club. Some were here to socialize, chatting with their friends on sofas. But all here were gay, and most were on drugs; a stark contrast to the closeted and vanilla offerings in my small town. This was my first night out in the big city, having moved here some months ago, with the few gay friends I had made promising it would be a fun- and sex-filled night. Moving past the throng of muscle-clad bodies, I spotted him. I recognized him almost immediately among the crowd: at 2 meters, he stood far taller than most people there, his 5 o’clock shadow peppered with grey, his face rough and wrinkled – typical for someone in his 50s. He was a mammoth of a man, definitely over 120 kilos, and while many at the party would have dismissed him because he didn’t have a sixpack, I much preferred his build: gigantic, clearly powerful from years of work at the gym, as if his goal was perpetually to bulk and never to cut. He looked just like he did those few times I saw him at the gym: sweaty and red-faced – probably the result of hard drugs circulating through his system rather than a hard workout – except for the fact he wasn’t wearing any clothes. Oddly enough, aside from his stubble, he had completely shaved off every trace of body hair, and odder still, I found it perfectly complemented his gargantuan build: every inch of his frame was exposed, his muscles accentuated by the sheen of sweat that would normally be obscured by body hair, making him appear even bigger, more threatening. I catch a brief glimpse of the monster hanging between his legs and my hole twitched. A thick, uncut piece of meat travelling down his thigh, perfectly framed by thick balls, bulging veins traveling along its length and disappearing into his crotch. The head poked out just a little through the foreskin, glistening as a few drops gathered at the tip. Whether it was precum, piss, or sweat, I didn’t care; I needed to have him in me. “Luke! Let’s go!” hearing my name, I snapped back to the present, and continued with my friend, Alex, to the toilets to snort some lines and take some G. Reminding myself not to stare so blatantly, I rushed over, and as soon as the drugs took effect, I threw myself into the moment: dancing, chatting, flirting, making out with hot guys left and right. The jockstrap that formed the entirety of my outfit made sure I attracted a lot of attention. But no matter how much I tried to avoid it, my mind kept going back to the guy from the gym, skimming the crowd in hopes of catching another glimpse of his immense frame and giant cock. Alex was talking to me about some hot Cuban guy he sucked off in the bathroom, and while I wasn’t really following the conversation, I immediately noticed when he went quiet, his eyes locked on to something behind me, towering over me. Feeling a hand on my shoulder and a hard dick brush up against my lower back, I froze too, hoping it was him. Here he was, two hours since I spotted him in the crowd, his breath hot on my ear, his beard scratching the goosebumps that prickled up on the back of my neck. “Hey there bitch”, he said in a low rumble. “I’ve seen you looking at me from across the room.” My face immediately turned red, and my heart skipped a beat. Shit, I thought I was being discreet! “I’ve also seen you drooling over me at the gym. Yeah, I remember you. I saw your faggot eyes sneak a peek at my junk in the locker room whenever they got the chance.” He took a step closer, his hard cock sliding up my back as he pressed his body to mine. He cast a forceful glance at Alex, who just nodded and disappeared into the crowd, instinctively knowing to leave me to this monster of a man. “Now listen here bitch. You want this dick?” I nodded. “Then there are some ground rules you have to follow. First, what I say, goes. I tell you to lick piss off the floor? You do it. I tell you to present your pussy to some thug on the street? You fucking do it. The moment you say ‘no’ is the moment you’re never getting this dick again. Understood?” Fuck, this was serious. Hesitating, I nod. “Good. Second, I got used to a certain way of fucking, and I’m not about to change that. My bitches better be fucked up when they get fucked. So you want my load? You’re gonna get a fuckload of drugs shoved up that pussy before my dick goes in. You want another load after that? Well shit, kid, you’re gonna get even more spun. You got that?” “Y-yes…?” I answer. “Now the best part is where those two rules interact” he continued. “Remember rule number one? What I say, goes. So if I want to dump another load up that cunt, I’m gonna do just that, and if you refuse, no more dick. But then there’s rule number two. So before I pump another load into you, I’ll pump you full of more drugs.” Fuuuuuuck! My heart and mind were racing, terrified, but my dick was rock-hard and my hole was tingling in anticipation. In the two months since I’ve moved here, I had wasted no time embracing my inner slut: I’ve had sex on drugs before, and even sucked off a guy in the middle of the dance floor tonight. But this was a whole different level I wasn’t entirely sure I was prepared for. “So you better hope I’m done soon, bitch. But I doubt it. You’ll be speaking gibberish by the end of the night, if you’re lucky. And if you aren’t… let’s just hope I’m done with you by the time you pass out, because if I’m not, well, the rules still apply. I’ll drug you, and I’ll fuck you, and this time you can’t say no.” My dick was leaking precum, and a small groan escaped my lips as I felt his cock throb against my back, picturing it pumping a load into my guts. “So what’ll it be?” he asked. But something about his tone told me he already knew my answer. I could stop at any time, I told myself. I could just let him fuck me once, twice maybe, and then simply refuse anything that came after. I took a deep breath, and nodded. “Good boy. Now, let’s get you fucked up reeeeeeeal good.” Heart thumping, I followed his glistening naked body across the dance floor to a half-empty sofa on the other side. Grabbing me by my arm, he roughly sat me down on one end, briefly interrupting the casual chat two guys were having on the other side. Reaching under my legs, he easily pulled me down the sofa cushion until I was lying on my back, and lifted my legs over my head. “Alright bitch. Put your fingers in that sweet cunt of yours and open it wide for daddy.” Quietly, I obeyed, as he reached into his fanny pack and took out a baggie filled with white powder, opening it up, and bringing it close to my hole. “You ready to fly, bitch?” I could feel the adrenaline taking over as the powder tipped ever closer to the edge of the bag, the reality of what was about to happen starting to hit me. Looking at him with fear in my eyes, once again, I nodded. “Fuck yeah,” he said, and started pouring the drugs into me, slowly at first, but then tipping the baggie until more started falling out, quickly surpassing what I would consider a normal amount of any drug, then twice that amount, and still, he continued. He grinned as he saw the terrified look on my face. “You wanna know what’s in here?” he asked, a playful smile taking over his face. I realized at that point that I had no idea what he was putting in me, so caught up I was in the moment. Once more, I nodded, wide-eyed, watching him shake out a little more powder before closing the baggie and putting it away. If at least I knew what it was, I could prepare myself for whatever high, however strong, was coming my way. “Fuck if I know!” he laughed. “I found that baggie on the floor over there. Guess we’re both in for a surprise soon.” He spit on my hole, rubbing the glob in with his thick, calloused finger. “You two!” he barked at the guys sitting next to us, now transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of them. “Spit!” he commanded, extending an open hand in front of them. They quickly obliged, watching him take the thick globs of spit and spread them along his throbbing dick before turning all his attention back to me. “Now, open wide, bitch!”

Part 1 – The Urinal The boy moaned as I shoved my full 10 inches into his ass in one go, my pubes briefly mingling with the sparse hairs around his hole before I completely pulled out and violated his pussy again and again, quickly building up a brutal pace. I could tell he was in fag heaven: completely tweaked out, on all fours, with a hung aggressive brute beating up his cunt and choking him with big, muscular arms. “You like that, don’t you baby?” “Yes daddy!” “You like being my little bitch, don’t you?” “Y-yes daddy!” “Daddy’s going to use you however he wants, isn’t that right?” “Yes daddy, whatever you want.” I didn’t need to wait for his responses to know what he was going to say. I’ve seen the kid around in bars and clubs recently, his lean body, captivating smile, and early 20s charm ensuring he never went home alone. I’d often see him entering a bathroom with a guy or two, exiting some time later with his hair completely disheveled and eyes unable to focus. The whore was obviously trading his hole for drugs. “Daddy’s gonna pimp you out to his friends. You want that, don’t you? Daddy’s gonna feed you drugs and cum nonstop. Daddy’s gonna fuck you up. Fuck you up real bad.” He didn’t seem to believe me. Or at least he didn’t understand what I meant, despite the hard slaps to the face that left his poppers-addled head ringing. Despite the red imprint my hands left on his neck trying to get a tighter fit in his throat while I fucked it raw. All his whore mind cared about was the cock that just started seeding his pathetic cunt and the drugs pumping through his system. He didn’t really understand that I would wreck his worthless hole beyond recognition, that I would break both his body and his mind. “Yes daddy,” he said. “Please fuck me up! Please make me your whore!” The whore must be new in town. How else could I explain the complete trust he had in me when I guided his naked teenage body through that seedy sex club by a leash several hours later? Had he actually been from around here, he might have known to avoid me, just like the other boys learned to do the hard way. Excited at first to go home with a hung, muscular, bearded hunk, they soon learn they’re getting more than they bargained for. None of them left my place without bruises. One faggot I even sent home with a concussion, beating his face mercilessly when he tried to pull his mouth off my dick, my shaft blocking any access to oxygen. The word soon spread, and it became difficult to lure a hole back to my place for any form of release. No matter. I would tell them to wait for me in the alley with their asses out, or else. Most complied, excited by the thought of being nothing but a hole for a rough fucker to use. Only one entitled little black twink dared to tell me to fuck off before turning around and rejoining his group of friends. At that moment, I was faced with a choice: let it go, and see my authority and control over these pathetic cunts diminish, or teach him – and everyone else by extension – that saying no was simply not an option. I watched him the next several times I went out, patiently waiting for a moment to teach the bitch a lesson. On a snowy night a week later, I cornered him in a dark alley near the bar with two other fuckers who wanted in on the action. A flash of recognition spread across his face as he saw me, and he quickly turned to run. My friends grabbed him and held his arms behind his back, bringing him back to face me. “You’ll pay for what you said the other night, cunt. Nobody disrespects me like that.” “I’m sorry man! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! Please! I won’t do it again!” “It’s too late for that, you little piece of shit.” “Please” he said as he started struggling against the men holding him. Normally, I would find his attempts to resist cute – an adorable attempt to prevent the inevitable. Tonight, it was just another insult. A punch to the guts and kick to the balls later, the bitch was on the ground, writhing in pain as we ripped his clothes off him and flipped him onto his stomach. I spat on my dick, lined it up with his hole and started pushing in, my friends slapping the bitch with every “no” and “please” that came from his mouth. “There’s no way to stop this, bitch. You brought this on yourself.” A brutal fuck ensued, with the three of us dumping multiple loads into the abused cunt. Soon he just stopped resisting, and lay there limp – except for the occasional shiver – waiting for it to pass. After I dumped my final load into him, I quietly whispered into his ear: “You got off lucky tonight cunt. Disrespect me like that again, and something much worse will be waiting for you.” Shaking from the cold, sobbing, and destroyed, he barely managed a slight nod through the tears. For good measure, the three of us pissed on him and took his clothes with us, leaving him wet and naked on that freezing winter night. “Good luck getting home with no money, bitch.” I saw him again at the club a few days later. Try as he might to avoid my gaze, our eyes met for a brief second. I motioned to the exit, got up, and walked out of the club into the back alley. He came out just a few seconds later, pulled his pants down, and stuck his ass out without a word. Nobody dared refuse me after that. Luckily for my whore tonight, it had never come to that. He smiled sheepishly as the men in the sex club started inspecting his body, and it didn’t take long before one of them had his cock buried in the boy’s guts, quickly pumping out a load before being replaced by another. The slut seemed to be enjoying himself, smiling at the attention and moaning as each new dick bathed his insides in cum. After the fifth load, I decided he had had enough fun. I had other plans for him “With me, boy!” I said, as I tugged on his leash. Picking up my bag, I led him to the toilets, a large room with a raised urinal trough and stalls lining the walls, the floor wet with piss. “Put these on,” I barked at the whore as I threw him a set of wrist and ankle cuffs. He quickly obliged. “Kneel!” I said, and so he did, kneeling on all fours in front of the urinal. I attached his ankles and wrists to the chain clasps bolted into the concrete floor. I pulled out a mask with two tubes sticking out of it from my bag, and covered his head, careful to put the fatter end of one of the tubes into his mouth, stifling his confused objections. I then unscrewed the drainpipe leading out of the urinal, replacing it with the other end of the tube. The second tube was shorter, and just hung from the mask. I took a step back to admire my handiwork. My whore looked perfect. The tube connecting his mouth to the drain was already being filled with piss from the urinal, while his unfocused eyes, normally visible through the glass visor, were quickly obscured by the cigarette, weed, and meth smoke mercilessly blown in by strangers through the other tube, robbing the bitch of any fresh air. It didn’t take long for the first anonymous dick to find its way up the whore’s cunt. To say the bitch was fed only piss for the next several hours would be an understatement. It became a running joke to “do a line with the bathroom bitch”. Men would walk in, prepare lines for themselves and their friends to snort, and dump the last line into the urinal as part of the whore’s urine cocktail. Meth, coke, ketamine, MDMA… it was difficult to keep track of the chemicals that disappeared down the whore tube. Some of the men would ash their cigarettes and spit loogies into the trough, while others would bend over and push several loads out their asses for the slut to eat. Every once in a while, a stray pube found its way down the drain. The bitch was probably too high to even register what was going on at this point. Even if his body tried to get rid of the chemicals the normal way – vomiting – it would just be pushed back into the tube and he’d have to drink it up again. I could imagine the boy was in considerable pain: his sore, puffy, tender cunt, was constantly leaking cum and reduced to an unrecognizable mess by the relentless assault of dick after dick. His knees and palms were covered in cuts and bruises from the friction against the concrete floor. The pool of piss, dirt, and sweat around him must have been stinging those open wounds. Not that he could voice any complaints. The tube in his mouth widened into a ball at its end, completely gagging the bitch and reducing all screams into muffled grunts, moans and coughs gargled out of the urinal drain. When I finally felt the boy had had enough piss, I took the mask off his face and pulled the tube from his mouth, replacing it with a mouth spreader. Grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand, I put my fully hard dick into his mouth and started sliding it in, pushing past the entrance of his throat until I was completely buried inside him. I went down on my knees and - not wanting to kneel on the uncomfortable floor - rested them on the whore’s knuckles. The whore’s screams were muffled by the 10 inches lodged in his throat, protesting as I painfully crushed his hands into the concrete floor below. With my other hand, I plugged his nose, waiting for the pain in his eyes to be replaced by panic from the lack of oxygen. I didn’t have to wait long - soon his eyes were darting left and right as he frantically tried to pull himself off my dick. I held on just a bit longer: waiting until he was just seconds away from passing out. Waiting for him to truly start fearing for his pathetic life. That’s when I started mercilessly facefucking the bitch. Letting go of his nose and holding his head in place with both hands, I quickly built up a rough pace, my knees grinding his already cut up palms into the filthy ground. The bitch only had a fraction of a second to gasp at the oxygen he desperately needed before my shaft plugged his throat again and again. Within seconds he started puking. Strangers’ piss gushed out of his mouth and nostrils in spurts, coating my dick with piss, throat slime, and the pubes that found their way down his whore throat. I slowed down for just a second, pulling his head back in until his nose was buried in my pubes, and forcing him to breathe in the stench of his stomach contents. He puked again directly into my crotch, and accidentally inhaled the urine. He started coughing, and my dick twitched at the thought of his lungs drowning in the chem piss that was in his stomach just a moment before. I resumed my brutal fuck, watching as the fountain of piss escaping his mouth grew smaller and smaller until he was retching nothing but air. Then I slammed my dick into him one last time, grinding his face into my pubes as I deposited a load straight down his gullet. Slowly, I pulled out. The hoarse breathing and coughing coming from the bitch told me his throat had been fucked raw. His bloodshot eyes drooped shut as tears and snot mixed with the drool hanging off his chin. I got up off the whore’s hands, lifting his face to mine so I could breathe in the piss-coated haze wafting from his mouth with every exhale. But I wasn’t finished yet. Motioning to another guy beside me to hold his head up by his hair, I pulled his eyelids open and let loose a torrent of piss straight into eyes, eliciting another raspy scream as he tried in vain to escape. As the torrent slowed to a stream, and then a trickle, I looked to his ass, realizing that I had been completely ignoring his other hole since we were back at my place. Yet another stranger was adding his load to the who-knows how many were already inside. I removed the mouth spreader and heard the whore breathe a sigh of relief, thinking that I must be done for now, but my dick twitched yet again at the thought of tearing his worthless cunt to pieces. I was far from done.