Let's Get Fucktarded

[HarryLewisTLC]

Part 1 of 3 - Meeting the Fucktard

 

“‘Fucktard’?” I asked, reading the tattoo on his chest, above his heart. It just said ‘Fucktard’, with a number underneath, ‘#103’. The black ink stood out very clearly from his incredibly pale skin. His muscles were visible as well, and I ran my empty hand over his abs as I spoke. “What on Earth does that mean?” I laughed. He grinned, but didn’t answer straight away. He took the joint from my other hand and brought it to his lips, taking a drag. He leaned in and exhaled into my mouth as I inhaled, passing the smoke from his lungs into mine. We kissed for as long as I could hold my breath, then broke so I could blow out the rest of the smoke.  

 

Shotgunning always got my head spinning, and I let out a little whimper as laid down on top of me and nipped and nibbled at my neck. I wrapped my arms around him, placing one of my hands on his shaved-bald head, feeling the tiny little hairs under my fingers. He was an odd looking guy, really, with barely any hair anywhere on his body, it seemed. Even his eyebrows were near-impossible to see, and he could have been a vampire with how little time he must spend in the sun, to be that pale. But something about him really turned me on, and it wasn’t just his muscles or chiselled facial features. Plus, he paid for the weed, and it was some good shit, so who am I to object? “It’s nothing.” He said, whispering in my ear as he licked and nipped at that, too. “Just a little bit of fun with my friends. Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”  

 

My only answer was to moan as I felt him moving above me. He must have been a really talented stripper, since he managed to wiggle out of his trackie bottoms without moving off me at all. I brought my hands down to his waist, sliding them over his ass. No underwear. Or that’s what I thought at first, but I felt the straps and realised he was in a jock, plain white, and the only thing that made the colour of his skin noticeable as something other than pure white. “Nice.” I said as I slipped my fingers under the straps and flicked them, making them snap back against him. He brought the joint back up and held it to my lips for another drag, then started to kiss me, letting me exhale into his lungs, this time. He started pushing up my shirt as he exhaled, and I pulled it off.  

 

“Keep hold of that.” He said, passing the joint to me. “And I’ll show you what the tattoo means.” He started kissing down my neck and onto my chest. He pinched one nipple gently with one hand while his mouth found the other and started sucking at it. Once he’d got it hardened, he started using his teeth, gently grazing against it. It felt good, and I brought the joint to my lips, taking a long drag. He switched his mouth to the other nipple, leaving the already wet one alone. His hands traced down my sides to my stomach, where he pressed gently, gripping my skinny frame and holding me still.

 

A hand slipped down to my denim-covered crotch, groping me roughly through it, making me gasp. His lips moved from my nipple, down my chest and over my stomach, kissing all the way down to my belly button. Both hands were on my crotch now, groping and rubbing at it, jacking me off even through the thick denim. As his mouth went past my bellybutton, his tongue flickered out briefly. It was a weird sensation, but in my head, so foggy from the weed, it tickled and only added to my arousal. He kissed down my faint trail of hair to the top of my jeans, where he kissed, bit and licked at my skin just above the beltline. I whimpered and brought my empty hand down to open my jeans, but he grabbed me by the wrist.  

 

I whimpered even louder, and for while he ignored me, continuing to hold my wrist with one hand as the other kept playing with my cock. With the jeans and my underwear in the way, it wasn’t nearly enough, and I knew how much better it would be even if I could just get my jeans off. “Beg me.” He said. At first, I didn’t get his meaning, but he repeated himself. “Beg me, convince me to further.” He was grinning up at me from my crotch, his odd appearance making him look so unnatural, yet so fucking hot.  

 

“Fuck!” I grunted between clenched teeth. The next word shot out of my mouth like a cannon. “Please! Please keep going! Please, I’m so fucking hard!”  

 

He laughed. “And if I do, what do I get? What happens after I get this open?” He bit down on the rim of my jeans, pulling at it, tugging so carefully that it felt like the button was going to open, but it never did. “You want your cock sucked?”  

 

“Yes!” I cried. “Please, yes! Please take them off!”  

 

“You’re not too excited, are you? I don’t want you cumming in my mouth. Not yet, anyway. What happens after I get your cock all nice and slick?”  

 

“Then I’ll fuck you!” I said far too loud, thinking that’s what he wanted. Then I thought again. “Or-or you can fuck me or… Or what-fucking-ever! Anything, as long as we’re inside each other! Fuck!”  

 

This was apparently the right answer, as his teeth were back on my jeans and with a skilled flick of his neck, he popped the button open and yanked down the fly in one smooth movement. Hands slipped under my jeans and my underwear and he yanked them down. My cock burst free, all seven rock hard inches of it. The sensation was incredible, making me leak some precum onto my stomach. He pulled my jeans all the way down and off of me, leaving me completely naked. Taking it one hand, he started pumping it slowly. I wanted his mouth, but even his hand round my cock felt a hundred times better than before. He spoke. “Aww… So small.”  

 

That snapped me back to reality, a bit. “Small?! How am I small?!”  

 

He laughed again. “Well, smaller than most guys I’ve seen recently. My friends and I, we’re all pretty demanding when it comes to size. Don’t worry.” He squeezed my dick tight as he pumped at it. “You’re still big enough that they’d want to meet you.” And with that, he took my dick in his mouth. The whole thing, down in one go. I gasped, and thought I might have cum right then and there, but I managed to resist it.

 

“Fuuuuuck! Aaah, fuck!” I moaned out. His mouth was incredible. He must have been honest about the dick size, since he had absolutely no problem swallowing the whole thing, going back up and down again, fucking of throat by choice with no hint of a gag reflex. I felt a hand travel up my body to my chest, where he dropped something. A lighter. I looked at the joint to see it had gone out. I was feeling pretty stoned already, but if he wanted me more stoned, I wasn’t going to say no, and risk the loss of him stopping. I put the joint between my lips, lit it and took another long drag, holding it in for as long as possible. The whole time, he didn’t stop or even slow down on his treatment of my dick. I could feel his tongue moving against it as well. “Ah!” Holy fuck!” Was all I could say when he showed off his next trick, flicking his tongue out of his mouth and over my balls while the entire shaft was down his throat. “How the fuck do you do that?!”  

 

He pulled his mouth off my dick, though not before a few more times up and down the full length. “It’s easy, when you get used to it.” He moved up towards me, and I held the joint up for him. “We can show you how.” He said before he took a drag.  

 

“‘We’? Is that you and your ‘fucktard’ friends?” I laughed. “Is that what it means? That you’re really fucking good at blowjobs?” He leant down and kissed me then, exhaling down into my lungs. His crotch pressed up against my ass as my dick was pinned between our stomachs. He was still in the jock, and I could feel it bulging, straining for his cock to be released.  

 

Breaking the kiss, he spoke as I exhaled. “It means we’re really fucking good at everything.” He answered, before kissing me again. “We’re good at sucking, fucking, kissing, licking, touching, cumming, breeding, sharing. Everything.” With each word in the list, he kissed me again, slightly more forcefully each time, and after ‘Everything’, he kissed me deep, forcing his tongue into my mouth and pressing his crotch hard into my ass. When we broke the kiss, I couldn’t help but let out a long ‘Fuck’ in a moan. “You like the idea of that?” I nodded. “I think I could introduce you to the right people to get in… But right now, I want to hear you beg some more.”  

 

And I begged like hell. I told him how much I wanted him to fuck me. I kept saying I’d fuck him too, and I definitely would, but we both knew exactly where this was going. He told me he would fuck me so hard I’d scream. Told me I’d be begging him to stop. “You can’t handle a fucktard.” He said, and I told him I could, begged him to let me prove that I could handle him. “Once I’ve started, I’m not going to stop till your ass is coated with my cum, you got it?” I practically shouted my consent, and again I started begging him to fuck me.  

 

Even after he started, I was still begging. He kissed and licked back down my body, much faster this time, and told me to take another drag. I did so, not caring just how bad my head was spinning. He reached my dick, but didn’t take it in his mouth. He kissed down the length of it, sucked on my balls, pressed his tongue into the flesh underneath, grazing his teeth gently against it, before finally reaching my hole. I didn’t realise just how empty it felt till after he plunged his tongue straight down into it. I was amazed by how far into me he could reach with just his tongue, and the feeling of his spit coating my ass felt so right. I took yet another drag, thinking how much better his cum would be than that.  

 

His tongue got my ass slicker and looser than I’d ever felt it, before shifting position. He’d pulled his cock out from his jock and pressed it against my hole. I immediately felt the metal piercing in the tip of his dick, and I looked down to see that his dick was definitely at least a full inch longer than mine. Thick and veiny, too. This was going to hurt. “Last chance to sto-” I cut him off by forcing my ass down, as much as I could from this position, and I felt his thick cock push through my hole and into me, making me moan out. He never finished his sentence, encouraged by my willingness, he grabbed my hips and began pushing in further and further.  

 

Part of me thought that we were going too fast. I was still pretty tight, and that size and that piercing? He could tear my ass apart. Then another part of me spoke up. ‘Good. Let him. Let him know you can take anything he can give.’ And that’s exactly what I did. In minutes, he’d worked himself all the way into my ass and was already fucking me. It hurt. It hurt so good. He leaned in and started kissing me as he hammered into my ass. Each slam demonstrated the power of his muscle, and I worried my bones might not be able to take the force, but I didn’t dare try to stop him. I knew that he wouldn’t now, not till he was done, just like he said.  

 

It went on for ages, or what felt like ages. We never switched positions or slowed down, it was just one long, continuous pounding of my ass, like I’d never felt before. We must have been making so much noise - the slamming of the bed, my yelps and moans, his grunts. We didn’t care, he just kept straight on hammering, and each thrust made me want the next one even more. Finally, with a few final slams that could have broken down a wall, he moaned out and I felt his cock exploding, shooting more waves of cum into my ass than I could keep track of. The feeling of my ass flooding set me over the edge, and my cock, wedged between our bodies, erupted too, coating us both with more cum than I could ever remember producing before.  

 

“Holy… Fucking… Shit…” I said, between breaths, as he crashed down next to me. We didn’t clean up, just laying there in our sweat and cum as he found the discarded joint and relit it. There was enough left for one long drag each, which we each shotgunned into the other. “Holy fucking shit.” I repeated. “That was fucking incredible.”  

 

“That’s what being a fucktard feels like.” He said. “You want in? I won’t make you beg for it - all you have to do is kiss my tattoo.” I kissed it. Kissed it, licked it, played with the nipple near it, and made it absolutely clear just how much I wanted it.

[TTFN]

Looking forward to finding out what a fucktard is.

Probably a play on words fucked hard.

[wonderboy]

Fucktard is some cock hungry retards who would do anything for some cock...  no?  

[HarryLewisTLC]

Part 2 of 3 - Training the Fucktard  

 

Before he left the next morning, he got me to strip naked again and took a bunch of photos of me. This inevitably led to us fucking again, with me on top this time. I tried my best to give as hard as I got, but I couldn’t get anywhere near matching what he did last night. He didn’t complain though, and as he was leaving, he told me that he’d send my details to ‘the right people’, and ‘they’d be in touch. Might take a while.’  

 

It took two weeks, and I’d almost forgotten about it by the time I heard back from him, only remembering when I laid in bed at night, wanking and thinking about how hard he’d fucked me. He only texted me three times during those two weeks, and each time it was an instruction. The same one, each time. ‘Stop what you’re doing, go to a public place and strip. Send a photo as proof. You have 15 minutes.’ I did it in the toilets of my university library first, and a second time in a wooded area near my flat. The third time had been harder, near impossible. I was clothes shopping, so my only option was to go into a changing room and ditch my clothes, then take the photo outside, in view of the assistant. I got thrown out as soon as I reclothed, but it did the job, it seemed. The day after that one, I got the text.  

 

‘I got you an audition.’ Was all it said, other than a date, time and location. It was tomorrow evening, in a part of town I’d never been to before. I tried to ask for information, but I got no further replies. Something told me that I’d never hear from him again if I wasn’t at this ‘audition’, as well. I googled the place, but that didn’t reveal anything either. It was just some old part of town, in the suburbs. There was nothing to do but go there and hope for the best, I guessed.  

 

I didn’t sleep well that night, with my mind preoccupied with memories of the night I’d had with him, and what might be waiting for me tomorrow. The next day moved by at a snails crawl, but finally the time came round for me to leave. It was a difficult part of town to get to, and the journey took a while. I was nearly late, and had to run the last of the distance. I pounded my feet up the drive to the front door and knocked before I even had chance to remember my situation. The door opened at the push of my knock, and I had no idea what was inside. I slowly entered into a small room with a door to one side and a flight of stairs. Any windows were blocked out, and all the light came from dim electric bulbs. The stairs were blocked off by tape reading ‘No Entry’ over and over. On the wall, painted in red paint, there were instructions;  

 

1. Close and lock the door.

2. Strip naked.  

3. Enter.  

 

The paint was not fresh, and it was not done in a careful hand. Under that, in paint that wasn’t quite so old, read ‘Or leave.’  

 

I closed the door, and twisted the lock till it clicked. Then I waited, standing in the small room, listening for any signs of movement. I couldn’t hear anything, either up the flight of stairs or on the other side of the door. As far as I could tell, I was alone in the building, but I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. There was one sign of life though. Half way up the stairs, a small red light flashed on the top of a CCTV camera that stared straight down towards me and the front door. I stared at it for a moment, then back to the rules on the wall, then the ‘Or Leave’ note.  

 

It took me a long time to do it, but finally, I started to kick off my shoes. I unbuckled my belt, undid the button and zip of my jeans and pushed them down, pulling my legs out of them along with my socks. I began making a neat, folded pile of my clothes by the door, then pulled my t-shirt off over my head. Removing my underwear took longer to build the confidence for, but soon enough I was standing in the little room, completely naked. It was not a warm building, and goosebumps began rising all over my skin. My breath caught in my lungs as I opened the door and stepped into the main building.  

 

Three people were in the next room, waiting for me. Sitting in a chair was a black guy, bulking with muscle, his head shaved bald, and clad in black leather. He wore a harness crossing over his chest, connected by a silver metal loop, gloves that strained when he moved his hands, boots that looked freshly polished, and chaps that squeezed his bulking legs, and left a fat cock sitting between them. It was huge, and no where near hard, I could already tell just from looking. I couldn’t guess what size it must reach when hard, but just looking at it made my mouth water and chased my nerves away, at least a little.  

 

Standing either side of him were two more guys, both white, both incredibly pale and muscular, though not as much as the man between them. They were both completely naked, rock hard, and completely hairless. They both had black tattoos above their hearts, both saying ‘Fucktard’, and the numbers 103 and 132. 103, I realised, was the same number as the man I had met. It was the same guy, I realised after a moments staring, but I could barely recognise him at all. What little hair he had when we met was now completely gone - no stubble on his head, no eyebrows, no armpit hair or body hair of any kind to speak of, he was completely smooth. He was slightly smaller than 132, and his muscles were slightly more prominent, but those were the only distinguishers, other than his tattoo.  

 

The room was empty and featureless, other than the chair the black guy sat on, a large box in one corner, and several cameras, all aimed at the chair and the space in front of it. No one said anything, but the black guy gestured at me lazily with one hand, and the two white guys moved towards me. I backed away towards the door, but I barely had time to react before they were on me, one grabbing each arm. They pulled me forwards, half dragging me towards the guy in the chair. When we reached him, someone’s knee slammed into the back of mine, and I dropped down, held up only by the hands on me. Two more hands joined as the black guy reached up and clamped either side of my head in his, tightly squeezing my neck and jaw, though not enough to block my breathing.  

 

He examined me, turning my head this way and that, so hard that it hurt. I had no idea what he was looking for as he twisted me around, examining me from different angles. Moving my head back to face him directly, he stared me down. I don’t know how long that lasted, but I did everything I could not to break his gaze. My eyes watered and ached as I kept it up, and his eyes just kept boring into me. I didn’t know why, but I was honestly scared of looking away. Scared of what he might do, or order the two guys holding me to do. I was by far the weakest person in the room and I had no idea what was going on.  

 

The force of his voice was what finally got me to flinch. He didn’t shout, but his voice was solid and deep, one that was used to giving orders, and not used to having them questions. “Do you know why you’re here, faggot?” He asked. It was the ‘faggot’ that caused the flinch. At first I nodded, then I realised that beyond something to do with having my brains fucked out of me, I had no idea, so my nod turned into a shake. “You’re here so I can examine you, because #103 thinks you’ve got what it takes to be a Fucktard.” The last word was said forcefully enough to cause another small flinch. The hands holding me down squeezed tighter. “D’ya know what that means?”

 

I did have an answer this time, though I thought for a minute before answering, wondering if I should speak at all. “It… It means they’re really fucking good at fucking. Fucking and sucking, licking, breeding, sharing. Everything.” I tried to recall what 103 had told me two weeks ago.

 

He laughed. “And you think you’re good enough for that? You’re not.” He answered his own question straight away. As he said it, one of his hands curled into a fist and he punched my chest. Not so hard to cause real pain, but it still hurt. He punched my chest again, then in my stomach. The last one was enough to make me feel queasy, and I wouldn’t have remained on my knees if I were not being held there. “Skinny little cunt like you ain’t gonna last five minutes with these two, let alone a party. But a body can be fixed. We don’t need any little faggots, but get a real mans body and maybe there’s a chance.” He continued staring. As I thought, I looked over his muscled body, and remembered the powerful feeling of 103 when he fucked me. Eventually, I nodded. I’d ‘fix my body’ in order feel that again.    

 

“Prepare him.” Was all he said after that, and I was pulled back up onto my feet. 132 kept hold of me while 103 went to the box in the corner of the room. I was pushed down to my knees again, and as 103 came back, I heard a buzzing noise. I was given no chance to object as an electric razor was brought to my head, hacking straight through my hair. 132 held my head still as 103 removed any trace of hair longer than a few milimetres from my head. They were both still rock hard, and 103’s dick was bouncing in my face as he worked, slapping me more than once, leaving sticky traces of precum on my lips. When my head was shaved, 132 pulled me back up to my feet. His dick pressed up against my ass as 103 got to work on shaving what little body hair I had that was long enough for the razor. That consisted entirely of the hair around my cock, which he removed with a deft hand.  

 

When they’d done all they could with the electric razor, the wax and shaving set came out. I tried to tell myself that I wouldn’t react to the pain of the wax, I wouldn’t embarrassing myself by shouting or screaming. That did not last long, but my reactions didn’t seem to discredit me. They continued working no matter what noises I made, though 132 did cover my mouth while 103 tore away the hair from my legs. The whole while, the guy who called himself the Examiner didn’t move from his chair, silently observing and looking bored, if anything. Soon, almost every trace of hair was removed. I never had much chest hair to call my own, but what little I did have was gone. My arms and legs were smooth, my trail was gone and my cock stood out much more noticeably with all the hair removed.  

 

Back on my knees, and my head was covered in some kind of shaving cream. This part, at least, was done slowly. 132 stood in front of me, with his dick right in front of my face, as he held my head completely still. 103’s steady hand slowly stripped off the last tiny traces of my hair. If his hand ever slipped and cut me then I didn’t feel it. A towel was thrown over my head and I wiped off any remaining cream. Then my head was clamped again, by 103, as 132 approached me for the most painful part. 103’s hand covered my mouth, and I couldn’t help but scream into it twice, as each of my eyebrows was ripped off with a strap of wax. After that, I was dragged back to between the Examiner's legs. This time, they dropped me there and went towards the box, rather than holding me in place.  

 

“There.” He said as he took hold of my head, examining my freshly shaven skull. “You look a bit more acceptable now. Open your mouth.” My first thought was of his cock, but when I opened my mouth, he brought something up and placed it on my tongue. A little blue pill. Before I could close my mouth again, he tilted my head back and spat into my mouth, with some of it splashing over my lips. “Swallow.” He ordered, and I did so, forcing the unknown pill down my throat with very little fluid. My cock twitched as I tasted his spit. After that, he gestured towards the two white boys. They’d returned with a metal tray full of items. From it, 132 took a rubber tube, which he wrapped around the top of my right arm. He did the same to himself and 103.  

 

The Examiner prepared three needles of… something. I didn’t know what. I didn’t ask. My heart started thumping in my chest as I watched him find a vein on 103’s arm. He drew back on the plunger, and I saw a flash of red in the clear liquid, before he pushed the plunger down and injected it all into 103. The needle was pulled out and 103 moved away, taking the cord off his arm. The actions were repeated with 132, who let out a little moan, both when the needle pierced his arm and when the plunger was slammed down into him. He moved away too, and 103 pushed me towards the Examiner, holding my arm out to him. “Last chance to run away, faggot.” He said as he brought the needle to my arm. He looked me in the eye and I stared him down for a minute, before shaking my head. I wasn’t leaving now that they’d made me look like a freak. “Good boy.” He said with a smirk.  

 

I winced when the needle cut into my arm, and again when I saw my blood shoot into the syringe, and once more when he pushed the plunger down and filled me with whatever the fuck it was. I was shaking so much that 103 had to help hold my arm still while it was done, but when the rubber tube was pulled off my arm, the sudden warmth that flooded me was incredible. My cock twitched instantly, and I shut my eyes, feeling my body lower to the ground as the sensation washed through me. A surge of warmth, then a surge that felt like electric, and finally a rush of energy. I shot up again to my feet. My lungs were suddenly heaving as my breathing got harder. I could feel my cock getting harder too. I looked down at my completely smooth body, and got even more horny as a rubbed my hands down myself.  

 

Instantly, they were on me. 103 and 132 both took hold of me, 103 in front and forcing his mouth against mine, while 132 came from behind, burying his dick between my cheeks and wrapping his arms around me. 103 was a lot more forceful than he had been last time, and though I didn’t hold back either, he still dominated me, showing that he had no problem using his superior strength to overpower me. My cock was rock hard now, and I was desperate to fuck, or get fucked, or suck them both or anything, I just needed it now.  

 

It’s safe to say, I got fucked a lot. I don’t know how long I was in that little house for. One minute, I was kissing 103, the next there was one cock in my mouth and another in my ass. Keeping track of which was 103 and which was 132 became impossible pretty quickly. They looked exactly the same, and I just got harder every time I remembered that I was exactly like them, too. I got to fuck, too, though only because the Examiner ordered it. He told me to prove that I could fuck like the best of them, and I did. I pounded both their asses, which put up no resistance.  

 

After a while of the three of us fucking each other, the Examiner put a stop to it, calling us back and preparing us for another injection. This time I was all too eager to receive it. When we were done and I was feeling the rush of the second shot, he spoke to them. “Go fuck yourselves.” He said to them, and I realised that it was an instruction, as much as it was an order to leave. They went, and I heard them going upstairs. “Alright, you can keep up with them. One last test; please me.” And for the first time, he stood up. His cock was getting harder, and it must have been at least 9 inches already as it swung heavily between his legs.  

 

I dropped to my knees straight away, and licked up the precum that he had been producing, licking up every drop from his skin. Then I began sucking, and the cock continued to grow in my mouth. Fully hard, it might have been more than 12 inches, and so thick that I could barely fit it in my mouth, but I still did everything I could. I sucked on the head as I pumped the rest of it using both hands, slowly working more and more of it down my throat, but I could still barely make a dent on its size. He didn’t complain, though, and guided my head up and down his shaft, to his balls, to the flesh beneath them. Wherever he wanted my head, it went.  

 

He moved me further up his body, and I kissed and licked at his muscles. I needed to become like that in order to be a Fucktard, and I was more than willing to do it. He guided me up to his chest, onto his biceps, then shoved my face into his pits, where I smelt and tasted his sweat, which made my cock bounce. It was the best thing I’d ever smelt, and I never wanted it to go away. He moved me to his other pit, which was even better, then back down to his cock. “You want me to fuck you?” He asked, when I started sucking him again. I nodded and moaned. He laughed. “And I bet you honestly think you could take all this, don’t you?”  

 

I thought about it - neither of the people who had fucked me tonight had been more than nine inches, and that was by far the most I’d ever taken. Reluctantly, I shook my head. “Too fucking right you can’t.” He pulled me away from his dick and looked me right in the eye. “You know who can? Those little Fucktards upstairs. They became what they are just to take it. ‘Cause the only way little white bitches like you get a cock like this is if your cunt has been absolutely destroyed. You felt it when you fucked them, didn’t you?” I nodded. “You willing to have your cunt destroyed for this?” He gestured to his dick, and I nodded even more enthusiastically.  

 

After that, didn’t say anything for a minute. He moved away from me and sat back in his chair, looking me up and down. His cock slapped against his abs and stayed there, untouched, and I so desperately wanted it. My eyes kept darting between his face and his cock, unable to pick one to focus on. My mouth watered, and my ass begged to be stuffed, but he continued just sitting there, considering me. Finally, he spoke. “Alright then. You go upstairs and start working on getting that body fixed. You’ve got three months. We’ll be in touch.”  

 

Nothing about his tone suggested I could object, to ask to stay here and keep sucking him off. Even if I’d offered to let him tie my down and make his cock fit in my ass, I knew I was to leave. I got up, and my dick bounced around as I headed out of the room and up the stairs, past the tape. I found 103 and 132 in one of the rooms, and they were on me at once. Soon nothing felt like it existed outside of that bedroom, those two, their cocks and their asses and their mouths. We fucked for hours, in every position imaginable. We took it in turns to double-fuck each of them, and then it was my turn. Just before, 132 produced one more set of needles for us, the last of the night. Taking it meant I felt almost nothing but pleasure when they both pounded my ass afterwards.  

 

I woke up alone, with a pounding headache, an achy body and a desperate craving for more. No one was in the house. I searched thoroughly, but the only proof I had that anyone had been there was my own pile of clothes. The trip home felt horrible, I was twitchy as all hell and desperate, both for more drugs and more sex. My hopes for that was soon ruined after I got home. I had a wank the second I was alone, and checked my phone after that. It was a list of instructions.  

 

I wasn’t allowed to fuck anyone but a Fucktard. I wasn’t allowed to take anything that wasn’t given to me by a Fucktard. Four times a week, I would receive a location and time, which I was to always make. Wherever I ended up, it was always the same, I’d be met by either 103 or 132, in a place filled with gym equipment. They’d force me to work out, barking orders at me and constantly forcing me to go harder. I never backed away from the challenge, and it wasn’t long before muscle started to take shape, and with each passing day, I looked more and more like them.  

 

Twice, I was called back to the house, a month after my first visit and again a month after that. I never saw the examiner again, but I did meet a few more of the Fucktards. Like 103, they were white, pale, muscled, and with a number on their chests along with their name. They were always numbers in between 103 and 132. Both visits went similar to the first - they’d shave and wax me completely smooth, pump me full of drugs and we’d fuck each other all night. Each time, it felt more and more savage, as I understood more and more what they wanted from me. On the second visit, I forced 103 to his knees and made him suck my cock the very first instant I saw him. They performed the entire dehairing process while I kept him there with my dick in his mouth. That was the last time I saw 103, and my training was handled entirely by 132 after that, though he would not tell me why.   

 

A week before the day that was three months gone, I received a text that took me to a location. A week after that, on the morning that was three months since my first visit, I stood in front of my full length mirror. I could see nothing of the boy I was three months ago. My body was stunning, pale white, ripped with new muscles, and with a brand new tattoo over my heart. ‘Fucktard #135’. Just as I thought I was ready, my phone vibrated. Another appointment, tonight, at a new location. It was time.

[sam_puppy]

Fuck yes more please

[TTFN]

All those Fucktards will be slaves to the Big Black Examiner.

[mike43]

So hot can't wait for more

[mike43]

Very hot

[Docebrown]

Looking forward to reading more about the fucktards