twistedfukka

Just moved and looking to meet people

Still looking in Yakima?

Yep, we’re out here on earth first and foremost to please and serve Black Men

It took less than an hour after our first meeting for my str8 married dealer to have me bent over my sofa arm fucking my pig cunt, and cumming harder than he had since his wife gave birth....used to totally get off knowing that he was going to breed me raw at my home and then go back and fuck my pussy juices into her cunt...once he even had me come to his house to pick up while she was out shopping, and fucked me in their bed

Have been telling men for years with varying degrees of success that thick boys like myself are the best bottoms because our phat bootys can take lots and lots of punishment...love it when a big black cock starts fucking me at raping force, and even more when his big flat palm starts to smack the jiggly cheeks.

I work as a checker in a grocery store which is a good place to meet homeless guys and junkies...I always try to engage them in conversation to get them to stick around or come back at the end of my shift...I wait in the bushes by the parking lot and if all goes well, we get high and fuck on work property...love seeing them again after being their Faggot cumdump bitch, especially knowing they could rat me out to the management.

I use to hate all those words...now I love them...my hole is a cunt, my cock is a clit and I'm a faggot

8:00pm on June 3, 2017...DeShaun looked at me, disappointed. "Fuck, white meat, you let me down...I thought you'd have a little fight in you still. Guess you one of them white faggots just aching for nigga cock in yo pussy, ain'tcha." He punctuate what he said by shoving his fingers back inside me...unfortunately, all it did was make me gasp loudly, arch my back and spread my legs wider. He grinned, and shoved in deeper, twisting his fingers back and forth...I starting gasping for air, unable to breathe at the lovely mixture of pain and pleasure he was inflicting on me. Part of me was embarrassed to be behaving like such a slut in heat in front of three strangers, but as I was violated deeper and harder, I became more and more aware of the nearness of their hard, masculine bodies, the stink of sweat and piss in the room, and the obscenely large bulges in their pants. "Oh baby, you are in heat, white meat...and we haven't even got you hungry yet...let's start you off slow. Tyrell, you got poppers?" One of the thugs slipped his hand into his pocket and tossed something tiny to DeShaun. When he caught it, I could see it was a tiny bottle labeled Jungle Juice. DeShaun chuckled as he shook the tiny bottle, still keeping his fingers in my hole. "Jungle Juice to rile up yo jungle fever, white meat...you gonna like this. When I hold it to yo nose, take a huge whiff...then the other side...then hold it in until I tell you, and let it out nice and slow." He twisted the cap off one handed, used his thumb to wipe the lip of the bottle, then shoved it up on left nostril...I followed directions, inhaling deep - it smelled weird - then the left, then holding it in until he said let it out, then exhaling slowly. I got really hot...or maybe cold...I dropped back onto the mattress, completely dizzy...my blood was pounding...DeShaub was finger fucking me to the beat of my pulse...or do I thought until I looked down and saw I was fucking myself onto his fingers. He just laughed and repeated the process. The room spun, and when it stopped, DeShaun was standing watching me, but something still fucked my hole...turns out that during the second rush, DeShaun's fingers had been replaced with Tyrell's big black cock. I turned to DeShaun, and tried to gasp out my request. "Please...Sir...please..." I grunted. "What you want, white meat? You want this maybe?" DeShaun held the bottle of poppers just out of reach. "Yes...please Sir...yes". I gasped. Tyrell's cock was beginning to hurt places inside I didn't know existed until now. "First, you gotta admit the truth, white meat...the truth you been refusing to admit since yo bro walked you into my crib. Whose property is you, faggot? ". DeShaun chuckled. "Yours...Master..."I gasped while Tyrell picked up the speed and force. And part of me...deep and dark inside...part of me wanted it to be true.

7:00pm on June 3, 2017....My face was pressed into the filthy mattress by my older brother Mark's hand while his cock was forcing its way in and out of my ass. All I could focus on as the smell of cum and piss coming from the mattress, and the sound of my brother's ragged breathing while he raped me in front of his drug dealer DeShaun and the dealer's two thugs who held me down. Every now and then my brother would mutter under his breath, something like "faggot" or "slut", punctuated by a blow to the back of my head. Once he even said something like, "practically begging for it, weren't you". Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was him trying to justify the truly horrendous act he was committing against his younger brother to his drug filled brain, but mostly it just made me feel dirtier (and wonder, maybe, if I had somehow wanted my brother to do this to me). Suddenly, Mark's hand stopped pushing my face into the mattress, and his arm snaked around my throat. He pull me up from a face down position until we were both up in all fours - DeShaun's thugs let go to let the position shift happen - and even though I had thought he couldn't fuck me any deeper or harder, I was wrong. The iron grip if my brother's arm made everything fuzzy as my air flow was getting cut off, and from what sounded like a great distance, I could hear Mark start to breathe more heavily. "Marky Mark - you getting close?" DeShaun asked. He walked over and stroked my older brother's sweaty red face with an almost lover-like gesture. "You gonna POZ that pussy, bitch? Gonna spray your toxic jizz into your little bros cunt and get him pregnant for me?" "Yes...Sir..." grunted Mark, as he raped me even harder. "Gonna fill this faggot cunt up with fuckin death seed. Gonna knock up this virgin pussy." DeShaun leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Hear that, white meat? Your older bro is about to fuckin rape your white faggot cunt to death. After he's done, you ain't gonna be good for anything but to be my nasty faggot whore. So much for fuckin Ivy League and full ride scholarships...you'll be getting plenty of full rides, but the only letters you be earning are STDs." I could feel his tongue licked the side of my face when he was done whispering. I thought I had run out of tears, but I was wrong. Mark was getting ready to climax, pounding harder and harder. I could hear him hissing nasty things through his clenched teeth, "Fuckin hate you...wish you hadn't been born...fuckin nasty faggot slut...gonna POZ your pussy...just...fuckin...DIE". He roared the last word as I felt his cock spasming inside me, pumping warmth into me...and then my ass started to clench while my cock started shooting jizz into the mattress. DeShaun started to laugh. "Oh Lord, white meat...you just shot a huge load from a soft cock...you must have loved getting knocked up by your older bro so much. I'm gonna have so much fun with you." He laughed some more. Mark grunted as he pulled out of me and let me collapse onto the mattress. I could hear him putting his clothes on but I refused to look at him. I didn't know how I could ever look at him again - because while I couldn't admit it to myself yet, I wanted what just happened to happen again. "We good, DeShaun?" he asked. "My debt is paid in full?" "Oh, Marky Mark...we good. You actually built up some credit on that, brother." DeShaun chuckled. "Here, take a ball on me." "Enjoy the faggot." Mark said, prompting me to realize he wasn't taking me with him. "He was supposed to leave on a week long trip straight from the graduation party, so no one is going to realize he's missing for awhile." He walked to the edge of the mattress, looking down at me, tears streaking my face, t shirt ripped to hell, boxers and jeans around my knees, blood and cum oozing from my ass, and cum dripping from my cock. He leaned down and spat directly in my face. "If my parents could see him now, they'd rather he was dead anyway. You are doing my whole family a favor." He turned and walked out of the room without another word. I had a feeling I wasn't going to see my brother again for a long time, if ever. "Well, white meat, I bet you are feeling pretty much like you wanna die right now, don'tcha?" DeShaun said gently, "Good thing Daddy DeShaun has just the thing to make it all better. Time for you to meet Ms. Tina, bitch, because your nightmare is just beginning...and this pussy," he reached between my legs, shoved a couple fingers into my ass, and pulled them out covered in pink stained cum, which he held up to my lips, "this pussy is going to get used a lot worse before your nightmare is over." I knew what he wanted, and a twisted, perverted part of me wanted it too...so I opened my lips and sucked the bloody cum off his fingers.

6:00pm on June 3, 2017....I had spent the day with family celebrating my hard earned graduation from high school. The school-supervised graduation party would begin soon, and my older brother Mark had volunteered to drive me to the school to join my classmates. I was glad to have the time with him - even though he was almost ten years older, we had always been close until the last couple of years. Mark had become unreliable, always running late (if he didn't call and cancel with some weak excuse), and when he was around, he was twitchy and scattered. Even now, driving me to the party, he kept looking around like he though we were being followed, glancing at his phone and taking the long way to school. "Hey bro" he said nervously, "you mind if we make a quick stop? I got to talk to a buddy real quick." "Sure." I said, "I just can't miss the party." "Oh, kiddo" he laughed, "Something tells me you are going to parTy tonight like you never have before. You are going to remember this night for a long time." With that mysterious comment, we sunk into silence as he drove us to what most would call the bad part of town. He pulled up to a dilapidated townhouse with music playing so loud the bass made the car windows vibrate. "This is where my buddy lives" he said, " Come on, he wants to meet the graduate." "That's okay, bro," I said, "I think I'll stay here." "No, you'll fucking come in!" he suddenly freaked, hitting the car door. "Okay, okay - damn." I said, climbing out of the car and following him. I followed him around to a side door, where he knocked. The door swung open to reveal the biggest black guy I'd ever seen in real life - not that it was difficult because I had grown up going to private schools that were 99% Caucasian. The big black guy looked at my brother with disgust on his face. "DeShaun said you weren't supposed to come around here no more, cracka," he growled, his rich ebony voice sending shivers up my spine and down into my hole. "He said I couldn't come until I could pay my debt," my brother stuttered, then sort of jerked his head back towards me. The big black man finally focused on me...he looked me up and down while I squirmed and blushed - then he chuckled, low and slow, and stepped aside to let us pass. "Damn, cracka, you came through alright! You one evil muthafucka...DeShaun is gonna love this..." he said as Mark grabbed my wrist in and iron grip and dragged me into the house. We stopped when the big black guy snagged the back of my pants. "I'll see you later, white meat," he said in my ear. Then Mark dragged me further into the house. We ended up in what must have been the master bedroom - but there was just a dirty mattress on the floor and a throne-like recliner with a fat black guy and two skinnier guys, one black and the other Mexican, flanking him. The room stank of piss, sweat, and chemicals and something I couldn't place, but would later learn to recognize as the stink of fear. The fat guy in the recliner looked up when we entered. "What up, Marky Mark? You bring me something?" he said, bringing the recliner to an upright position. "I know you wouldn't show your cracka face without bringing me payment for your debts." "Hey, DeShaun," my brother stuttered, watching as the two skinnier dudes moved towards us. He jerked his head towards me again. "This is my little brother Nick - the one I was telling you about." The fat black guy looked me up and down. "Well, hey there Nick," he said in a friendly manner, "I'm DeShaun - a buddy of Mark's. He was telling me all about you - class president, valedictorian, off on a full scholarship to an Ivy League school...you got quite the future in store, don'tcha." "Yes Sir," I said, feeling a certain amount of threat from the fat guy in the chair. "Sir!" he chuckled, "Finally, a white boy who knows his place! Tell me, Nick, you ever have time for getting nekkid with all that schoolwork? You a virgin or a playa?" "I'm a virgin," I replied nervously, "I've never dated anyone or anything...too busy with school." "Bet you wanted your first time to be special...something you'd always remember, right boy?" he asked. I blushed and nodded my head yes, confused about where this conversation was going. DeShaun looked at his two associates who were by now on either side of me and jerked his head towards the filthy mattress on the floor. Before I could do anything, they each grabbed an arm, wrapped it behind my back, and dragged me to the mattress and shoved me down onto my stomach onto it. I struggled pointlessly in their firm grips, yelling for help, trying to be heard over the thumping music. DeShaun got out of the chair and came and kneeled on the mattress next to me, and I felt his hand stroke my head. "Sorry to tell you, white meat, but that bright future you had all planned out just went down the drain. See, your brother Mark is a huge meth addict...my best customer in fact. But, he's had some difficulty lately paying for his drugs. I let him have more and more on credit, but told him he needed to give me something special in payment. So Marky tells me about this hot little cunt of a little brother he has, and offers you as payment to clear his debts. So, now your cunt belongs to me - you gonna be working off his debt. There's just one little matter to resolve first." He chuckles, then says to Mark, somewhere in the room, "You got one more thing to do, Marky Mark, before we square. You know I don't fuck pussy that ain't been broken in first. Now slam that rig and pay your debt." I heard some activity from wherever Mark was, as tears streamed down my face and I was babbling for him to save me. A snap of rubber, maybe, and a grunt and a gasp, and my older brother started to breathe really heavy in and out through his gritted teeth. DeShaun chuckled. "Yeah, Marky Mark, that rig is a little stronger than you used to, but I wanted to make sure you put on a good show for us. Now, let's see you breed that cunt." He punctuated the statement by slapping my ass. I heard what sounded like clothes coming off then Mark spit on his palm and it sounded like he was getting the spit on his cock. I started begging him, DeShaun, anyone not to let this happen to me as I felt his weight hit the mattress and he crawled towards me, held facedow still by DeShauns goons. Then, he yanked my shorts and boxers down, and next thing I knew, my older brother was raping me on a filthy mattress while his meth dealer watched. The part that I wouldn't admit yet, even to myself, was that in the very back of my mind, where the darkest, dirtiest thoughts in my head lived, the situation somehow felt...right.

Midnight on June 3, 2017...I should have been on a boat getting crazy in a supervised manner with the rest of my graduating class of high school students...instead, I could feel the rough surface of the alley cutting into my hands and knees through the haze of meth and alcohol as I braced myself on all fours as the next filthy, reeking homeless guy took his place behind me and shoved a rough finger into my...well, I used to call it my asshole, but I'd learned pretty quickly tonight that calling it anything but a pussy or a cunt would get me a sharp backhand across the face. And honestly, being naked on all fours in a dank, smelly dirty alley at midnight, feeling cum running down my thighs because I was too loose and sloppy at this point to keep it in, the terms pussy and cunt were more appropriate anyway. I bit back a cry of pain as the next guy pulled out his finger and shoved his cock in...it felt like a big one, and I think I felt something inside rip...but I knew that I was supposed to be silent unless told otherwise...thankfully, I felt the glass pipe held to my lips and heard the flare of a torch light up...I started to inhale the precious, acrid chemical smoke that would make this experience not just bearable, but arousing. The soft, smooth silky voice on the other end of the pipe chuckled at my eagerness to inhale. "That's it, bitch...take it all the way in...fill those faggot lungs full. I want you to feel that rush all the way down to your pussy, bitch" I held the hit in as long as I could with a cock slopping in and out of my cunt...then let it out slowly, knowing a quick explosive release would result in being deprived of another hit. "Oh baby...you a good bitch, ain't ya. You learning what it takes to become one of my junkie bitches...only three or four more homeless guys for your pussy and then we can get out of here...now, bitch, take another hit." As I sucked down more meth, feeling the need for cock hitting my cunt hard, I couldn't help but think back to six hours earlier...before my asshole was a cum filled pussy, before I had ever taken homeless cock, before I knew what meth tasted like...when I was a normal, 18 year old white kid from the suburbs. Before I knew my older brother had a drug problem. Before I knew he owed a few thousand to his dealer. And before I became payment for his debts.

where will you be at...white chub bttm here

I'll come up and breed you if you want...i love whidbey island and take any excuse to make the trip

One of the first guys to slam me was living out of this sketch motel room dealing meth...while i was high he tied me up with my consent...he spent the day and night going between working me over, and conducting business with his customers...he pointed my naked, bound body out to each customer who showed up, man or woman, as a faggot pig that had begged him to be slammed and used, and then he offered to leave me alone in the room with them for 30 minutes, no questions asked for free as value added to the meth...part of me hated how much his lack of concern for my safety turned me on...

“Boy”, he said, in a gentle tone similar to the one he used when he’d told me that it didn’t matter that I was gay, he’d love me all the same, “it’s time to acquaint yourself with some basic facts of life that I learned long ago. There are two types of human males in this world – real men, and pigs. Pigs look like men, talk like men, dress and act like men, but in truth they are inferior. They are governed by their lust for unnatural acts, and by their desire to submit to real men. A pig may think he’s a man, but deep down he knows every time his faggot cunt twitches that he is not a real man.” I was finding his voice hypnotic as it came out like a religious doctrine through my chemical haze. “Even when you were younger, boy, I could see your head snap up at the mention of the word “faggot”…when you first came out to me, I thought it was fear, but then as I watched you closer, I realized it was because that submissive pig in you was reacting to its proper title. I knew you needed to be released from the bondage of self-imposed morality that you suffered under to truly wallow in your subhuman urges, and I knew I was just the man to do it. Only your cunt of a mother stood in my way, and now she’s gone…and don’t think I didn’t notice that reaction to the word “cunt”, pig…you’ll be hearing a lot more of your proper titles from now on.” He pulled his cock out of my mouth, and gripped me under the chin. Something told me to open my mouth, and he grinned and spat into it. I closed my mouth and swallowed. ”Nature at its finest, boy” he said, “you aced the advanced course; now let’s give you a water break.” It was at that point that a single thought broke through the chemical haze that wrapped around my mind – “I am so fucking thirsty”. And there, sitting on the dresser next to the other playthings, like the Holy-fucking-Grail, were two bottles of water, with condensation running down the sides. It looked so good to me, and I was so focused on how much I wanted some ice-cold water, that I barely even grunted when Bud pulled me away from the wall and the dildo popped out of my ass. I’d never experienced the singular focus or the clarity of mind that Bud’s “pig feed” gave me. At that moment, I needed that water more than anything else I had ever needed. Bud noticed me staring longingly at the water bottles, and he gave an evil chuckle. “I don’t think so, faggot,” he said as he gripped me by the chin and forced my eyes to lock into his,” that water is a reward, and you haven’t quite yet earned it yet, pig.” I whined a little in the back of my throat, just like a dog. It wasn’t on purpose; it was just the natural sound that came out of me at that point. This made him give that evil chuckle again. I realized then through my chemical haze that the sound of that chuckle was making my ass muscles contract every time he did it, same as when he used words like “faggot”, “pig”, and “cunt”. Maybe it was the chems at work, but I was starting to think his theory about pigs and real men might be legitimate. Then Bud started speaking again, and all I could focus on was his rough voice and his grip on my chin and the deep, deep black of his pupils as they seemed to grow and fill his eyes. “Boy,” he said, firm grip still on my chin, “it’s time to teach you another essential function of a pig. I’ve been up all night flying high on T and slamming down beers, and I’ve got to piss something fierce. So, faggot, here is what is going to happen. I’m going to start pissing in a minute, and you can choose to open your mouth and serve as my urinal pig, as nature intended, or end up getting your bed sheets all piss stained. However, if piss gets on those sheets, boy, the least of your punishments will be to sleep on them for a month without washing them.” There was a small, still moral part of me that hated the way chemical pleasure rushed through me at the thought of this strong, viral man pissing into my mouth like I was garbage. That part of me caused me to try to pull away from Bud’s grip on my chin. Suddenly, the grip was on my throat and the voice very, very gently. “Listen, faggot,” he said gently, “I haven’t forced you to do anything you don’t want to do so far today, have I?” I slowly shook my head “no”. I had indeed made the choice every time to participate. “I’ve allowed you to decide to make the final move each step of the way, correct?” he asked more gently still, firm grip still on my throat. I nodded my head “yes”. “And pig,” he said, practically purring, “I haven’t done anything to hurt or damage you, have I?” I shook my head “no”. Suddenly one of his hands was in my hair, yanking my head back hard, while the hand on my neck clamped down like a vice until I started to see black on the edges of my vision. He leaned in to speak softly in my ear. “Faggot,” he said, “I haven’t done anything to hurt or damage you YET. Please don’t force me to start now.” If my cock hadn’t been flaccid from all the chemicals in my system, his words in my ear would have made me cum without even touching myself. That surge of pleasure at the whispered promise of violence and degradation at my step-father’s hands was the final straw that convinced me Bud was right – I was 100% pig, born to serve real men like him, and everything that he was doing with and to me that morning was not only what the pig inside me really wanted, but also what the pig inside me needed…what it craved. I opened my mouth wide, and prepared to take the piss of a real man and enjoy every drop of it. Bud gave that evil little chuckle of his, and released the iron grip on my hair. The death grip on my throat that was making my vision blur turned into a caress down my cheek, almost the action of a devoted lover. He ran his thumb along my lower lip, smiled and said, “Good boy”. Then he grabbed his rock hard dick and lined it up to my open mouth. I could see him relaxing the tension of his body, and then slowly it came, the golden stream of piss from his monster cock. At first, I let it run straight down my throat, but then I grew curious about the taste. The pressure was growing stronger now, but I was able to start to savor it a little before swallowing. I wanted the words of a wine connoisseur so that I could adequately describe the taste of piss created from a toxic mix of meth and beer in the urinary tract of a real man, but words fail me. All I can say was that the moment I tasted it, I had one of those epiphany moments where it clicks like “yes, this is something that has been missing in my life so far”. I knew then that Bud and any of his friends would never need a urinal to piss in as long as I was around – in fact, I would feel cheated if he spilled so much as a drop of fluid into a porcelain bowl from then on. Too soon, the strong stream of chem and beer piss came to an end, and I eagerly leaned forward to lick some stray drops from Bud’s slit. He looked at me with pride like I was a first-grader who had won the school spelling bee. “Boy,” he said with pride, “your first time drinking piss and not a drop spilled. Truly, this is nature at its finest.” He ran his thumb across my lower lip again. “I am going to have so much fun with you, faggot.” At that point, I was starting to feel warm in my belly and a flush came to my cheek. Bud noticed and smirked, “that was some strong man piss you just guzzled down, pig, and you are gonna be flying high again in a moment. Just in time, too, because it’s time for the main event, faggot. Here’s your water – drink up.” He grabbed one of the bottles of water off the dresser and tossed it to me. I was so thirsty I had the cap off and had chugged down half of it before I even noticed that it hadn’t been completely sealed, it had been opened at least once before. Coming soon, part 6...

Sorry pigs, circumstances kept me away...hope I can pick up the story to your satisfaction: “I think it’s time,” he said, “to graduate you to the big boy dildo, and to see how well you handle being filled up at both ends.” He unhooked the restraints on my wrists and ankles, and I let out a disappointed little moan, since I had quite enjoyed being in bondage. “I know, boy,” he said, “but you need to show me just how badly you want all of this, and in order to do that, you have to be an active participant. Now, faggot, get on all fours.” I scrambled to obey, and he chuckled. “Fucking faggot,” was all he said. Then he picked up the larger of the two dildos, and put some lube on it, and moved around to my hole. “Now, boy,” he said, “this is going to want to slip out, but you have to keep those ass muscles tight to make certain that doesn’t happen.” With that, he slid it in. I think that my eyes must have rolled back into my head at the feeling of such fullness. A little sigh of contentment passed through my lips, and Bud chuckled again. Once the dildo was in place, he smacked my ass, and said, “Remember, boy, it has to stay there.” Then, he moved around so that I was face to, well, monster cock. “Open wide, boy,” he said, “It’s time for the advanced course. I was so high and horny at that point that I think my jaw must have literally made a snapping sound when my mouth flung open. Bud's "pig feed" (meth for those who have forgotten) had me flying high, and I had my second dildo ever in my hole. I knew, like I knew how to breathe, that the thing missing was a man's cock in my mouth. Bud just stood there, cock arrow straight, pointing towards my mouth, which by now was watering like crazy. It took a minute for my brain to break through the chem haze and realize that, once more, the choice to move forward was being left to me. That truly obnoxious voice in the back of my head told me that it wasn't too late to stop yet, his cock hadn't entered my body - I could still say "no". I think the voice knew that the moment a real man's cock entered me, everything would change. But really, at this point, I wasn't going to say "no". I moved my mouth forward to swallow Bud's monster cock. The first few inches had barely entered my mouth when he stopped me. "Gently, faggot" he said, "you gotta work your way up to the whole thing or you'll choke." So I just focused on the first few inches of his cock. The taste was incredible - the only way I could describe it was sweaty bread, that yeasty damp taste from wearing briefs. I thought that I had never tasted anything so good in my life. When Bud's hand moved, I knew he thought I was ready to take more, so I moved to the half way point. At that point, I realized that I wasn't really doing much, just savoring the cock, so I started to tentatively suck. I could tell by the pleased noise that Bud made that I was doing well. Then, unfortunately, I lost concentration on my chem-fueled ass muscles, and the dildo in my hole started to slip out. Bud noticed my predicament, and solved it the simplest way possible...he walked forward, forcing me back so that my hole was against the wall...the dildo hit home again, secure in my hole, and I lurched forward on the rest of his cock. It turns out that Bud didn't need to worry - my throat and his cock were a perfect fit. I don't know if I wasn't born with a gag reflex, or maybe the tina/poppers combo was responsible, but it was hitting my voice box and I was in pig heaven. Bud fussed with something out of sight, then brought the mirror with fresh lines back into my field of vision. Since I was clearly occupied, he held the straw for me to slip my nose onto - only this time he didn't just give me two lines, he made me take all four (well, made me is a little harsh...I was clearly equating his "pig feed" with intense pleasure now, so I was going to take all that he would give me, however it came). Once the lines were up my nose and I was reeling, he brought the little brown bottle to my nose and reminded me to inhale until he told me to stop, first one nostril, then the other. I was completely out of it now, throat full of cock, ass full of dildo, head full of chemicals. That’s when Bud began to speak. “Boy”, he said, in a gentle tone similar to the one he used when he’d told me that it didn’t matter that I was gay, he’d love me all the same, “it’s time to acquaint yourself with some basic facts of life that I learned long ago. There are two types of human males in this world – real men, and pigs. Pigs look like men, talk like men, dress and act like men, but in truth they are inferior. They are governed by their lust for unnatural acts, and by their desire to submit to real men. A pig may think he’s a man, but deep down he knows every time his faggot cunt twitches that he is not a real man.” I was finding his voice hypnotic as it came out like a religious doctrine through my chemical haze. “Even when you were younger, boy, I could see your head snap up at the mention of the word “faggot”…when you first came out to me, I thought it was fear, but then as I watched you closer, I realized it was because that submissive pig in you was reacting to its proper title. I knew you needed to be released from the bondage of self-imposed morality that you suffered under to truly wallow in your subhuman urges, and I knew I was just the man to do it. Only your cunt of a mother stood in my way, and now she’s gone…and don’t think I didn’t notice that reaction to the word “cunt”, pig…you’ll be hearing a lot more of your proper titles from now on.” He pulled his cock out of my mouth, and gripped me under the chin. Something told me to open my mouth, and he grinned and spat into it. I closed my mouth and swallowed. “”Nature at its finest, boy” he said, “you aced the advanced course, now let’s give you a water break.” Coming soon (I PROMISE) part 5

Don't read ahead, Brutalfux

"Now", he said, pulling my desk chair to the middle of the room, and sitting down in it, "Now comes the fun part. I want to see you fuck yourself with that dildo. Technically, you could still be considered a virgin by some, with just finger penetration. So, I want to see you take your own virginity...you and you alone. Show me how much you want cock." Even through my euphoric fog, I could feel the doubt rising. Yeah, the dildo was just outside my hole, but I was restrained. How the fuck did he expect me to fuck myself? I made a couple desperate noises in the back of my throat, but Bud just sat back and started stroking his cock. Desperately, I tried to slide down on the dildo, but there was nothing to stop it from just sliding away. Then, I had a brainstorm - folding my leg so that it was at the end of the dildo to keep it from moving (which required some contortion) I got the dildo back to my hole, just barely inside it. Then, I slid up the wall as far as I could go, getting a higher angle on the dildo, and suddenly it all came together. The dildo, stuck to my hole, finally got upright underneath it, and I slid down onto it. If I had been a sober virgin, or not been restrained, I probably wouldn't have, as a virgin, taken the whole thing in one go. As it was, the sound that came out of me as it hit home was definitely a squeal. Bud leaned back in his chair, this shit-eating grin on his face, and said, "Fuck yeah, faggot." I don’t know that I could put into words the feeling of being high as a fucking kite and slamming your virgin-ish ass straight onto a dildo. If you’ve never done it, you just can’t understand. For those of you who have done it, you’ll never forget the feeling. I’m not actually sure how much time passed with me just zoning into the feeling before Bud leaned forward and said, “Hey boy, that hole isn’t going to fuck itself”. This presented the next problem – how was I, restrained ankle to wrist on both sides, impaled on a dildo with no leverage, going to fuck myself? The chemicals in my system, and the chemicals just introduced into my system by the dildo, mixed together to provide a brainstorm. Beds, I thought, have mattresses and box springs. Box springs, I thought, have, well, springs. Springs, I concluded triumphantly, make you bounce. Much to Bud’s delight, I managed to slowly start to bounce myself up and down on the bed, which succeeded in making the dildo slide in and out just enough to give my hole the sensation of being fucked. Bud sat back and grinned, “Nature always finds a way, right boy?” I grunted in response, caught up in the intensity of the action. The interesting thing that hadn’t occurred to me at this point was that the entire time, ever since being woken up to my step-dad playing with my ass, I hadn’t spoken more than two words, sticking entirely to animalistic noises. There was no gag or any other impediment to speaking, I was just too caught up in everything to enunciate my feelings verbally. Something else that I hadn’t really focused on was the fact that despite my cock being out of commission (I seem to recall that happening to some people when they “partied”), I did get some blood rushing to it every time Bud called me “boy” or “faggot” in a derogatory tone. Of course, I guess if I overanalyzed everything, it would take quite a lot of the enjoyment out of it. I had my eyes closed, so caught up in the chemically induced sexual euphoria and making certain that the dildo bouncing in and out of my hole was hitting all the rights spots, that I didn’t notice that Bud had stopped his masturbating, gotten out of the chair, and come to stand over me again. Actually my first clue was when a hand was place on either one of my shoulders and he shoved me down on the dildo, hard. I don’t think I had ever felt such an intense moment of pain and pleasure so completely balanced, and if my cock had been in full working order, I would have shot the biggest load you’ve ever seen. As it was, the feeling just kept going and going, and I was definitely whimpering as Bud forced me to look into his eyes again. “You went from virgin to fucking whore in 60 seconds, didn’t you, boy? I’m impressed”, he said. More pressure on my shoulders led to louder whimpering. His cold blue eyes narrowed, “Now, you’ve been making entirely too much noise, boy. I think we need to keep your mouth occupied.” He stroked his monster cock a couple times, and I think I gurgled in the back of my throat. “First though,” he said, “I think you have outgrown this tiny toy, don’t you?” He pushed me so that my back was against the wall again, and my hole, filled with the dildo, was exposed. He took the end of the dildo in his hand, and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “This is probably going to fucking hurt, boy,” he said, “but something tells me that you’ll like it.” Then he jerked the dildo out of my hole in one swift, painful pull. All I had time for was a gasp before it felt like the air had been knocked out of me. It wasn’t even really the pain that I minded so much as the feeling of being empty, because I knew that I needed to be filled. But then there were Bud’s fingers, three of them this time, and since they tingled and burned where they passed, I knew that he was giving me more “pig feed” as he like to call it. I lost myself a little in the enjoyment of feeling his fingers slide further and further in. While his one hand was occupied he grabbed my chin again with the other and we looked into each other’s eyes. “You are just loving this, you faggot,” he said, “you haven’t even noticed that I’m keeping my hand still and you are the one shoving yourself further onto it.” Another moment, and he ordered, “Open your mouth.” It was pretty much impossible for me not to obey Bud’s orders at this point, so I did. He looked at me again, gauging me I think, and then calmly spat a huge gob of saliva into my mouth. “Swallow, boy” he sharply ordered, so I did. That made him grin. “Fucking faggot boy,” he grinned, “Nature at her finest.” Then he pulled his fingers out. “I think it’s time,” he said, “to graduate you to the big boy dildo, and to see how well you handle being filled up at both ends.” He unhooked the restraints on my wrists and ankles, and I let out a disappointed little moan, since I had quite enjoyed being in bondage. “I know, boy,” he said, “but you need to show me just how badly you want all of this, and in order to do that, you have to be an active participant. Now, faggot, get on all fours.” I scrambled to obey, and he chuckled. “Fucking faggot,” was all he said. Then he picked up the larger of the two dildos, and put some lube on it, and moved around to my hole. “Now, boy,” he said, “this is going to want to slip out, but you have to keep those ass muscles tight to make certain that doesn’t happen.” With that, he slid it in. I think that my eyes must have rolled back into my head at the feeling of such fullness. A little sigh of contentment passed through my lips, and Bud chuckled again. Once the dildo was in place, he smacked my ass, and said, “Remember, boy, it has to stay there.” Then, he moved around so that I was face to, well, monster cock. “Open wide, boy,” he said, “It’s time for the advanced course.” Coming soon, part 4.

Step-Dad Gets a Pig - Part 2 (thanks for the edits and the comment, Hotload84!) Bud smiled, and wiping his lubed fingers on his jockeys, he stood up and came to loom over me. I could see his enormous bulge straining at his briefs, and I remembered, as a kid, hearing my mom use the term 'monster cock', but the feeling from my ass was making it hard to focus on anything but how empty my ass was. He looked down at me and smiled, saying, "I've been waiting for this day for some time now, boy. I thought about it often enough, and almost jumped the gun a couple of times, but I realize that it is very important for your development that you understand that this is a choice, and that you are an adult, and aren't being manipulated or victimized, so that when you decide to embrace it, you know that it was your choice, okay?" My head was starting to spin, too much for me to really understand what he was saying, but I felt I had to acknowledge him somehow, so I grunted. He continued, "The choice is that you can either tell me to fuck off right now, and I'll leave and we'll forget this ever happened, or you can ask me to stay, but that means that you do everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that I say. It's your choice." My head was spinning even harder now, and I was desperate for some physical contact to hang on to, so I started groping blindly in his direction, which is how I grabbed hold of his cock. My mom was right - it was a monster. He laughed and pulled my hand off, holding me firmly by the wrist, saying, "I need to hear the words, boy - either go or stay." I focused as hard as I could and gasped out "stay" - whatever he had planned couldn't be worse than this isolated, horny, bizarre spinning feeling. Bud feigned confusion, "Sorry, couldn't quite catch that..." I was sobbing again, the feelings of lust and emptiness so strong within me, and so I sobbed out a much louder and definite "Please stay". When he chuckled, it froze my blood - I had never heard him sound so...well...evil was the best way to describe it. He shucked his underpants, and his monster cock sprung free. Then he pulled my chin so that I was looking directly into his eyes, and said, "You asked for it, faggot." There was a tiny cricket voice in the back of my head that spoke up then, pointing out that when your supposedly straight, self-proclaimed redneck step-dad calls you "faggot", a sudden rush of arousal is not the typical response - you should be feeling fear or anger. But whatever Bud had done to my ass was rapidly spreading fire through my body, and I couldn't think clearly at all. It also might have had something to do with Bud's monster cock, which I was just seeing for the first time in 6 years. It was thick, and veined, and slightly paler than the skin that was exposed to the sun, straight as a rod, and thick as the handle of a tennis racket. I was having trouble focusing my eyes, so while I could see markings on it, possibly tattoos, I couldn't tell what they were. Bud pulled my chin again, forcing my eyes off his cock and into his own penetrating icy blue gaze. "Eyes up, boy", he said, "you aren't ready for that yet." I think that the sounds that emerged from me at that point could best be described as a whimper - I'm not certain, since I'd never made such a primal animal sound before. He gripped my chin even tighter. "You do everything I say, right?" he said, "that was the agreement." Again, that cricket voice piped up again, but I was on fire and knew that if I didn't get his fingers, or cock, or even the fucking bedpost into my ass soon, I was going to lose it - so I stomped on that little cricket in my head, and nodded my affirmation. He stared at me for a second, gauging something, then spat in my face. I would have jerked back, except for his tight hold on my chin. He kept the grip on, and with his other hand, he wiped the saliva into my face, into my pores. "Good boy," he said, his voice grumbling low in a way that went straight to my burning hole, "you barely flinched. Now stay put and don't move a muscle." Not moving a muscle when your body is on fire with lust and a prime specimen of manhood is walking away from you, monster cock hanging free, is more complicated than it sounds. But Bud had told me to do it, and I had agreed to do everything he said, so I held it together as best I could. Bud came back into view quickly, which meant that he couldn't have stepped away much further than my dresser. He returned with some items that I recognized from the porn that I watched secretly, a couple of dildos of various sizes and a butt-plug, I think it was. He also had a little brown bottle filled with liquid, and a mirror with some powder and a straw. At the site of this (I'm not totally stupid and naive) the Ziploc sound and the now overwhelming feeling of burning lust clicked together. "Booty bump", I croaked out, and he grinned a little. "So, boy," he said, grinning, "you aren't as innocent as all that. That's going to make this so much fucking easier." He pulled the Ziploc out, and I could see it was half full of crystal shards and half full of powder. "This, boy," he said, gesturing at the bag, "is meth, also known as Tina, XTina, or T. I, personally, call it pig feed. You are currently feeling it's effects, since I made sure to coat my fingers pretty heavily in powder the last two times I shoved them into your hole. That means, boy, that you are currently flying - but it gets so much better." While he spoke, he took the smaller of the two dildos, and drizzled some lube on it. He started rubbing the lube in, and my cock, though curiously limp, started tingling like he was rubbing the lube into my own skin. He finished lubing it up, and set it down on the flat end. He then looked into my eyes, and whatever he saw there must have encouraged him, because he said, "Okay, faggot, let's get started giving you what you asked for." Bud pulled me from my horizontal position into a sitting up position on the bed. Luckily, this allowed me to lean back into the wall that was behind me. Bud grabbed my dangling legs and shoved them onto the bed, which tilted me back enough to leave my hole accessible. I was still, well, "flying" was the term Bud used, by reality was gripping me tighter with each passing second. I was starting to accurately gauge the situation, and just beginning to freak out - and even more alarming was the fact that I was so freaked out by the fact that I wasn't really that freaked out. Bud reached for something I hadn't noticed before, four leather straps. Two of these he gently placed on my ankles and two on my wrists. He then hooked my ankles to my wrists, right to right and left to left. "Just in case," he smirked. I tested the restraints, and discovered all I could do in them was lift my legs higher and wider apart, leaving my hole more exposed. Bud picked up the lubed dildo, and rubbed it gently on my hole. I made a little noise at the back of my throat. He took the dildo, opened the Ziploc and swirled it around inside. He pulled it out and in the morning light I could see tiny shards and powder stuck to the lube. He then put the head of the dildo just at the opening of my hole, and left it there. I almost lost it, so close and yet miles away. He then picked up the bottle, and shook it. "A little more persuasion," he said, "I'm going to place the mouth of this bottle under your right nostril and close your left. You are going to inhale until I tell you to stop, got it? Then we'll do the other nostril." I nodded, because I couldn't think of any other response. Bud twisted open the top of the bottle, breaking the plastic seal. He covered my left nostril, and the bottle went under the right. I tried inhaling, but the unfamiliar chemical odor had me shying away. Bud held firm, and said, "I told you to inhale, faggot - now do it, and keep doing it until I tell you to fucking stop!" His sharp command brought me to my senses and I started drawing in huge breaths of this chemical haze into my nostril. After three or four deep inhalations, he switched nostrils. At this point, another unfamiliar lusty feeling was creeping over me, and I calculated that it was coming from that little brown bottle. I started inhaling deeper and deeper, only stopping when he pulled away. I laid back to enjoy the new sense of warm euphoria creeping over me, but I could hear the chuckle in his voice as he put the lid back on the bottle. "I was right - you were born for this, boy". The problem now was the dildo. I knew that it was just grazing my hole, because I was becoming more and more aware of it's presence every second, but Bud was making no move to insert it. Instead, he reached down for the mirror, and picked up the straw. "This," he said, gesturing at the powder on the mirror and in the little bag, "this is quality shit that I got from one of those Mexican garbage men who do our neighborhood. Remember, boy, Mexicans know their quality shit when it comes to narcotics." There were four lines on the mirror. "Two for you and two for me, boy." Bud said, "I'm just going to show you how it's done." He took the short straw and ran it along one of the lines of powder, inhaling sharply and sucking it up through the straw into his nose. Then he demonstrated on another. Then he took the straw, shoved it up my right nostril, and held the mirror underneath. Now, normally I wouldn't have dare to try, but I was feeling horny and messed up from that little brown bottle, so I mimicked Bud and inhaled. The powder flew up my nose, burning my nostril, nasal passages and sinuses. Before I could think, Bud swapped nostrils and lines, and I repeated the action. Now totally spun, when he held the mirror to my lips and said, "Lick it clean, boy", I was frantic to get the last little particles of powder, because it felt so fucking good. "Now", he said, pulling my desk chair to the middle of the room, and sitting down in it, "Now comes the fun part. I want to see you fuck yourself with that dildo. Technically, you could still be considered a virgin by some, with just finger penetration. So, I want to see you take your own virginity...you and you alone. Show me how much you want cock." Even through my euphoric fog, I could feel the doubt rising. Yeah, the dildo was just outside my hole, but I was restrained. How the fuck did he expect me to fuck myself? I made a couple desperate noises in the back of my throat, but Bud just sat back and started stroking his cock. Desperately, I tried to slide down on the dildo, but there was nothing to stop it from just sliding away. Then, I had a brainstorm - folding my leg so that it was at the end of the dildo to keep it from moving (which required some contortion) I got the dildo back to my hole, just barely inside it. Then, I slid up the wall as far as I could go, getting a higher angle on the dildo, and suddenly it all came together. The dildo, stuck to my hole, finally got upright underneath it, and I slid down onto it. If I had been a sober virgin, or not been restrained, I probably wouldn't have, as a virgin, taken the whole thing in one go. As it was, the sound that came out of me as it hit home was definitely a squeal. Bud leaned back in his chair, this shit-eating grin on his face, and said, "Fuck yeah, faggot." Coming soon - part 3

My biological father was killed in a car accident when I was 10 years old, leaving my mom and me on our own. My mom struggled as a single mom for a couple years, but she was miserable without a man in her life, so it was hardly surprising to me when she started to date again. What was very surprising was that when she finally picked a second husband, she chose Bud. My dad had been an incredibly intelligent, cultured, and soft-spoken academic, and Bud...wasn't. My dad used to spend hours on the weekend absorbed in books, but Bud was more the type to spend hours on a chair in front of the TV, drinking beer (and if we were lucky, he'd be wearing pants). But he was nice to my mom, and nice to me, and my mom stopped worrying all the time and seemed more relaxed. I know that some people, in particular my biological father's family, used to question her decision to remarry so soon and why she chose a man so unlike my father, but she just used to say, "He makes me laugh" and leave it at that. I did overhear her talking to a friend once, who asked the same question, and instead of her usual answer, she replied, "Because when I'm riding his monster cock, I can cum two or three times for every time he does." I didn't really get it at the time, but like I said, she was happy and relaxed, and so I was too. I asked Bud one time, before he married my mom, what his real name was. He told me that his parents had wanted everyone to like him, so they named him Buddy. But as he got older, he shorted it to Bud. Then he told me how, even though he knew that he could never replace my father, my mom was very important to him, and so that meant that I was very important to him too. He knew that having a man around was very important to a boy in his teen years, so he hoped that I would soon feel comfortable to talk to him about anything. He was so sincere, and my mom was so invested in this new relationship, that I bypassed the stage where most step-kids resent the new man in the house. Even so, although Bud and I tried, but when it came down to it, we had very little in common. I was very much my father's son: quiet and introspective, shy and lacking confidence, not in the best shape, whereas Bud was loud, brash, in-your-face, a proudly self-proclaimed redneck. Even so he'd pretend to take an interest in my schooling, and I'd pretend to enjoy watching football with him, and we had a friendly relationship, which was a relief because I started having some interesting changes happening to my body around then, and he was right, it was nice having a male friend to talk to about it. He got me through wet dreams and pubic hair, masturbation and shaving, all without a scratch (literally). It was interesting, but as Bud's and my friendship got stronger, his relationship with my mom got worse and worse, and so did mine. I think that she envisioned that her second marriage would be mostly about the two of them, with me just hovering on the periphery keeping out of their way. But Bud wasn't having that - we were a family unit. So the two of us got closer, and my mom's jealousy drove her further and further away. It got to the point that when I was 16, and I finally admitted to myself that maybe thinking about the quarterback at school while jacking off meant that I was gay, that Bud was the first one that I told. He hugged me, told me that he loved me, and that he was proud of me, and told me that I might want to hold off on telling my mom until things got better. I was so relieved that he was okay with it, given his proud identity as a redneck, but he just told me, "I think of you like my own son. You are mine, and I'm not getting rid of you that easily". This new insider knowledge made us even closer, causing all sorts of whispered conferences just out of mom's hearing, and private jokes - it wasn't that surprising that she packed up and took off one day. When my mom left, Bud made it clear to everyone, especially me, that he considered me his son and was planning on keeping me with him for the next couple of years until I was 18. I was so relieved that I wasn't going to be uprooted, or lose another parent, but he just hugged me and said, "I told you, I'm not getting rid of you that easily." Since he started working long hours to make up for the loss of the second income, I started picking up my mom's extra work around the house. It wasn't easy, because I kept fucking it up for one reason or another, but Bud was very quick to kindly correct me and get me back on track. He became more and more of a guiding hand over the the next two years, and I spent more and more time with him, because he made me feel good about myself, even though I kept screwing everything up. We talked about college sometimes, and I told him that even though my grades were good enough to go anywhere on a full ride, I wanted to go to the college in town so that I could live at home and take care of him. He agreed to the idea, saying, "I'm not getting rid of you that easily" and chuckling over that old joke. Then, my 18th birthday came around, and everything changed. I woke up the morning of my 18th birthday to a strange tickling sensation. I was startled to find Bud sitting on my bed, in just his jockeys and his ever-present trucker's cap. It was shocking because Bud had always stressed that my room was MY place, and he never entered without permission, until this morning. He was, as I said, sitting on my bed pretty close to naked (I was completely naked, as I had started sleeping that way every summer), and the tickling sensation was his middle finger, slick with lube, sliding back and forth up and down my ass crack. I was paralyzed by the bizarre nature of the situation, so when Bud put his other finger to his lips in the classic "Shh" signal, I obeyed. Then he slid his finger into my hole, and I had to let out a gasp. Even though I was 18, and had known I was gay since I was 16, I was still a virgin. This, ironically, had been advice from Bud - that you only get one first time, so make sure that it's special. So, Bud's probing digit was the first thing to ever enter my hole, and it wasn't the most pleasant intrusion. I tried to wiggle away, but he put a first grip on the leg closest to him and I was stuck. He figured out when he hit my prostate based on my reaction - my eyes got very wide, and I lost my breath. Then he pulled most of the way out and then slammed his finger into my teen G spot again...and again...and again. After three minutes of this, my dick decided it couldn't take anymore and I came, sobbing a little with the intensity of it. I was pretty sure at this point, because I knew with 100% certainty that Bud was straight, that this was a really vivid wet dream - like a birthday present from the universe. So when he reached out and scooped up my cum off my chest, and held it out to me on dripping fingers, I obediently opened my mouth and starting sucking his hand clean. I heard from his end of the bed the snap of a cap, and the pop of a Ziploc bag opening, but was so focused on doing a good job that I didn't pay attention until his fingers (this time middle and index) slid into me again. This time the intrusion burned more than before, and it staying warm even after the initial burn. In fact, by the time he was deep as my prostate again, my whole ass felt like it was smoldering. The shock from my prostate felt ten times better, and when he pulled all the way out, my ass had never felt so empty. The pop of the Ziploc again, and his fingers were back - this time the smoldering turned into a full-on blaze of lust. My ass needed to be filled, and stretched, and used. I was making little noises in the back of my throat, and when he pulled his fingers out of my hole again, they got louder. Bud smiled, and wiping his lubed fingers on his jockeys, he stood up and came to loom over me. I could see his enormous bulge straining at his briefs, and I remembered, as a kid, hearing my mom use the term 'monster cock', but the feeling from my ass was making it hard to focus on anything but how empty my ass was. He looked down at me and smiled, saying, "I've been waiting for this day for some time now, boy. I thought about it often enough, and almost jumped the gun a couple of times, but I realize that it is very important for your development that you understand that this is a choice, and that you are an adult, and aren't being manipulated or victimized, so that when you decide to embrace it, you know that it was your choice, okay?" My head was starting to spin, too much for me to really understand what he was saying, but I felt I had to acknowledge him somehow, so I grunted. He continued, "The choice is that you can either tell me to fuck off right now, and I'll leave and we'll forget this ever happened, or you can ask me to stay, but that means that you do everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that I say. It's your choice." My head was spinning even harder now, and I was desperate for some physical contact to hang on to, so I started groping blindly in his direction, which is how I grabbed hold of his cock. My mom was right - it was a monster. He laughed and pulled my hand off, holding me firmly by the wrist, saying, "I need to hear the words, boy - either go or stay." I focused as hard as I could and gasped out "stay" - whatever he had planned couldn't be worse than this isolated, horny, bizarre spinning feeling. Bud feigned confusion, "Sorry, couldn't quite catch that..." I was sobbing again, the feelings of lust and emptiness so strong within me, and so I sobbed out a much louder and definite "Please stay". When he chuckled, it froze my blood - I had never heard him sound so...well...evil was the best way to describe it. He shucked his underpants, and his monster cock sprung free. Then he pulled my chin so that I was looking directly into his eyes, and said, "You asked for it, faggot." Coming soon - part 2.