Jump to content

Recommended Posts

When I started University times were tough. I had to move to the city to study, and the small allowance my parents gave me didn't cover costs. Living in college was ok, but the food was never enough, and i had no money for beer or fun, and no time for a regular job because of my studies, so I tried to pick up odd jobs around the neighbourhood to earn a bit of spare cash. It was just stuff like mowing lawns, painting fences and cleaning gutters, but it helped me scrape enough to get by.

I adveritised my services by door knocking, and I had little cards I would distribute as well, just in case anyone wanted to call me later. I did it mostly on Saturdays, as that was when I had most time, and it left the evenings free for picking up girls. I was pretty talented with the ladies, and rarely went a night without scoring.

One particular Saturday however when I was door-knocking in a new neighbourhood, I had a very different experience. I knocked on the door to a normal looking house; the man who answered the door was big and burly. I suppose he was around 50. He had a big handlebar moustache, and was wearing black jeans with a small black leather vest which was open at the front revealing a hairy chest and big beer gut. He also had an unusual tattoo on his upper arm, which i didn't know then, but now recognize as a biohazard symbol. I commented on it as I went past, as I thought it was a nice design and had been thinking of getting a tattoo of my own at some time. He told me I had to earn one of those, but i didn't understand.

I explained why I was knocking, and he offered me $10 to mow his back lawn. I was a bit disappointed by the offer as $10 wouldn't go far, but seeing my disappointment he said he would pay me $20 dollars if I mowed the lawn in nothing but my jocks. Now I was not gay, but I wasn't shy either, and it was a fuckin' hot day, and his back yard was enclosed, and I needed the money, so I thought 'what the hell' and agreed to do it. He led me through the house to the back yard, and my attention was drawn to his computer in his bedroom, as it made a message-received sound on a chat program as I walked past. I noted he also had a webcam set up.

He showed me the lawn mower, and without much fanfare i started the mower, undressed and started going about my business. The homeowner gathered up my clothing and took them inside for safe keeping. I must say its a bit odd mowing a lawn with little more than a jock and shoes. Twigs and branches sure sting when they whip past your legs, but it wasn't really much of a challenge: it was a small yard. Within about half an hour I was finished. Although it wasn't a particularly difficult day, and I was largely naked, the heat had caused me to break-out into a heavy sweat.

The homeowner had watched most of the mowng apart from a few minutes when he had popped onto his computer and do a few other things. After I had finished and put away the lawn mower, he called me over for a chat. He said his nickname was Daddybear and he was glad i had mowed his lawn, because he had other plans for his afternoon. He asked me to step inside for payment, and offered me a drink of home-made ginger beer. I was happy to accept his offer. While he went to get his wallet, I downed the beer. I can honestly say it was the most terrible beer I had ever had. It was bitter as hell, and if it hadn't been ice cold, I would not have finished it, but I did so, finishing-up about the time he arrived with his wallet. He smiled, saying he was pleased I liked the beer.

At that point I started to feel a bit giddy, and Daddybear saw me steady myself. He gave me another beer, saying it had the right combination of salts and sugars to hydrate me. I took him up on the second beer, and while it was only marginally better than the first one, I downed it, thinking it would counter what I assumed was dehydration. This was, as it turned out, a very bad idea.

The next thing i remember I was gagging on some sort of ball thing that was shoved in my mouth, with like a harness strpping it behind my head. When I went to pull it out I realized my hands were cuffed to the headposts of a bed, I was unable to move, and I was laying on my stomach. A stack of firm pillows were propped under my hips making me bend in the middle to almost as if I was kneeling. My feet were also secured to the foot of the bed - I assumed by ropes. I couldn't believe the situation in which I found myself.

I was now completely naked, and conscious of the cold air which was circulating between my butt cleft, which felt moist. I then heard the voice of Daddybear "ah, you're awake... welcome back! I have just finished preparing you!" It didn't take a PhD to figure-out what he had in mind, but in my position I could see no recourse. No amount of stuggling would free me from my bonds, and the effect of whatever had been dissolved in the drink still lingered and made my mind move very slowly. I was conscious the computer on the desk beside the bed which I had noticed on the way in was going frantic with received messages on chat programs, and I saw a webcam staring back at me from beside it.

I saw Daddybear out the corner of my eye on the side of the bed away from the computer and noted that he had now shed his jeans and vest. He was naked. A huge uncut cock stood proudly about a hairy and full looking scrotum. He removed a tube from a night table drawer, and squeezed some clear gel onto his cock, lubing it up thoroughly. As he did so, his foreskin retracted, revealing a bright red head with precum oozing from it! "Look what Daddy has for you, boy!" he leered. "Aren't you lucky?" This was a scene out of the movie 'Deliverance'. At that point i felt anything but lucky. My stomach was in knots, but at the same time I couldn't help but feel my own cock twitch and begin to swell against the pillows.

Daddybear walked back behind me, and i felt the mattress sway as he got on, moving behind me on his knees. He placed one hand on my back, and then very rapidly shoved a finger into my asshole and i flet his long fingernail scrape asit plunged in. i tried to cry out, but the ball in my mouth muffled any sound, and as he probed deeper to my prostate i found myself whimpering as my cock betrayed me and continued to swell against the pillows. Daddybear soon enough withdrew his finger and shuffled-up the bed further. I then felt him as he leaned forward, and placed the head of his cock at my hole, as he whispered in my ear "get ready, this is going to hurt some, but if you like, you can have some poppers to ease the pain."

I had no idea what poppers were, but I didn't want any of this, let alone pain, so I nodded, and thru the dinging of arriving messages on the chat program I heard the crack and faint hiss of a bottle being opened. Daddybear then thrust under my nose and ordered me to inhale the fumes of what I since learned was amyl nitrate, an smell i will never forget. With the ball in my mouth I could do nothing but inhale through my nose. I could feel the pulse thumping in my head, and felt my ears flush and everything spin. Then the bottle was taken away and i felt Daddybear thrust forward.

The lube and the amyl combined to ensure his rigid cock would be successful, and sure enough, I felt a searing pain as the head of his cock popped in. He held still for a second, but soon grew impatient and shoved again. I could feel the head of his cock sliding in further aided, perhaps, by its foreskin sheath. His cock was huge and he kept shoving it painfully inch by inch deeper inside me until I could feel the heat of his beer belly resting my back. The light touch of his testicles brushed up against my own. He let my ass stretch to adjust and accommodate before starting long thrusts back and forward, slowly at first, but building in speed until he was holding my hips and pumping me as fast as he could.

I could hear his breathing getting faster and his thrusts getting stronger, and the repetitive onslaughts on my prostate were getting to much, but then he gripped my ass tighter with both hands, leaving bruises which lasted for weeks, and then grunted. I knew he was cumming. I felt the pulsations of his cock against my prostate, and I felt the gush of fluid as his sperm hit my ass, and before i knew it my own cock was shooting cum, as if his cum had gone right through me.

He collapsed on top of me, gasping, his belly filling the small of my back, and his rough breath in my ear, but all the while keeping his cock as deep in me as possible. As his breathing settled he whispered in my ear "now I own you bitch! I have bred you! Now daddy's DNA is in you and you will never get it out! You're mine for life!" I didn't understand precisely what he meant, but I understood in some sense, that the exchange meant me owned me. He slowly withdrew, and stepped back, before undoing my hand cuffs and leaving me to untie my legs. I did so, and quickly got up and got dressed with my clothes which were piled on the floor. I needed to wipe away the goo on my ass, and noticed some white stuff tinged with blood which leaked out, but i was in too much of a hurry to get out of there to wipe thoroughly. I just put on my pants and left the room. Daddybear was waiting outside the room for me, and handed me two $20 dollar bills: one for the work on his lawn, the second as a token of his appreciation. I hurriedly left, and ran back to my dorm where I took a shower, and tried to forget the whole horrible experience. I have since learned this is typical behavior for anyone who has been raped. Of course I was much too embarrassed to ever tell anyone, let one the police. I was straight and that was that! I had no idea why my cock had been so hard during my experience, but wondered if there was a message in its response to Daddybear.

I heard from Daddybear three weeks later when he rang to ask if i could mow his lawn again. I had apparently left my card with him. I mumbled something like 'no, you fuckin' bastard', but in truth I wasn't feeling well. In fact, I was feeling so poorly I went to see the University doctor, and he said I had a glandular fever, whatever that was. I had a background fever and sore throat for a week with swollen glands. Apparently it was common in my age group, especially with all the girls I was snogging!

I spent the next five years fucking girls left right and centre to prove to myself that I wasn't gay. Some time a girl i had slept with unprotected told me she had tested HIV+ when donating blood, and I should get myself tested. It's safe to say that i know what the biohazard symbol means now.

Edited by Hotload84
  • Like 4
  • Upvote 2
  • Piggy 3
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 10 months later...
  • 3 years later...
  • 9 years later...

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use, Privacy Policy, and Guidelines. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue.