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The Ones that Don't Come Back


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Even in big Midwestern cities, driving an hour in any direction will land you in the middle of nowhere. You'll see a lot of corn, soybeans, windmills, grain silos, etc. You also see a lot of abandoned houses—barns, mostly, but buildings that look like they haven't been repaired or even lived in for decades. They look scary, right? Like people might've been killed in there. When I used to pick college boys up from campus and tell them I was driving them to one of those houses, they looked scared. They'd say: "damn, that's pretty far away. Are you like a serial killer or something?" with a little nervous giggle. But every time I showed them the pic of my rotting old two-story house, miles away from any law enforcement, their holes twitched. You can smell a faggot out by how much they love the idea of going missing.

College is tough. Most of these boys are coming from places that didn't give them a lot of chances to fuck in a normal way. That meant they watched a lot of porn, and got desensitized to danger real fast. I'm 58 myself. It wasn't tough pulling millennials—I look like fucking incarnate—but Gen Z had access to hardcore bareback porn, on-demand, whenever they wanted it. The ones who slept through sex-ed and safety talks because they were bored. It was a shooting gallery.

I was so good I started monetizing it. I work construction in the college town, which means I get a great view of all the young men coming and going. I was sweaty, and worked long, so I got a lot of stares. I made a note to follow them back to their dorms and slip a little piece of paper under the door. I called it "Faggot Rumspringa." It's an Amish thing. They send new adults out into the real world—the world of fucking, getting high, etc.—and if they like it, they stay. I flipped it the other way. I started offering three days in my house to live out the wildest, nastiest, freakiest fantasies they had. If they tired out and realized pig life wasn't for them, they got driven back. I made $1000 a pop off these boys. It was a private school. They could afford it.

If they didn't tire out, they stayed. Indefinitely. Sometimes I'd leave them in a room and realize I couldn't feed them anymore. I spend most of my money on my business and my lifestyle, so I don't have a lot left over to feed the faggots. I'd drop 'em off in the woods for a laugh, or offer a weekend with the good ones to buddies deeper in the country. I left one in the dump outside his dorm with a 12" dildo up his ass. Over the last year, I'd had about 45 clients, and only about 5 of them stayed. 4 I got bored of after a week. 

There was one, though. One that never seemed to come back. If you watch local news in my city, you've heard about the case, so I won't use names. He was gorgeous. 19, swimmer, long blonde hair. This one paid $1500 in advance with a cute little smile, and as soon as he got in the car he dropped his shorts and showed me the widest, most gaping hole I'd ever seen on an under-21 in my life. I started going 110. 

When we got inside I went straight for the bathroom, and he followed me on his knees and drank up all sixty seconds worth of my piss. Then he begged me to step on his face before I even took my socks off. By the time I was fucking him he started begging me for a baby. I think he said "breed me" a hundred times a minute. 

He was into everything. He ate my ass like it was oxygen. He let me use him as furniture. He took both my hands in his hole and squirted everywhere taking them. He drank his own piss and called me his Dad's name. Twisted stuff, but he never bored me. 

When his three days as a pig were up, I put the question to him. He said yes as soon as he could.

"I was kind of planning on you reaching out to me, actually, but I don't know how you found me," he said. "I've wanted this for so long."

"You know about me?"

"Someone told me about you. I think you're the love of my life. I want to be your little cock-sleeve forever and ever and ever Daddy. I'd put a ring around your cock if it would fit." It wouldn't. I can go deep enough to put you in the hospital just by cumming. "And I have a surprise for you. Do you get cable?"

"No."

"I did something really naughty." This surprised me. I felt like I was on the defensive.

"What, faggot? What'd you do?"

"I made missing posters of myself and put them up all over the whole town. So now you can't drive me back for a long, long time because so many people will be looking for you."

"What?"

"I won't be like the others. I know better. I'll be here for a long, long, long time. You won't get bored of me. I promise."

"You—" I was shocked, but a little flattered. I wanted to tear his god-damn head off his neck, but I wanted to fuck it first. He read my mind, dropped straight to his knees, pulled the sweats off my half-thick cock, and took every inch straight down to his stomach. He put two fingers up my ass and drank a load that I thought would choke him. He pulled his head back and smiled. He was a cute faggot, for now.

"Alright," I said. "You'll get what you wished for."

"They all did..."

"What?" I was hoping he didn't know. I had a little secret I never bothered mentioning to any of my other sleeves.

"Because you left a part of yourself with them forever, didn't you?"

"You bet your ass I did," I said. He was stroking my cock with the palm of his hand, and I was getting harder already.

"And now you gave me the same gift," he said, kissing the tip. "You pozzed me, Daddy..." I was hard as brick.

"How'd you know, boy?"

"Because the one who told me about you was my Dad... You did this to him twenty years ago, and he was disgusted with himself for the rest of his life. He got pozzed too and tried to keep it from us. I found a Polaroid he took of you, and when I saw you on campus leering at all my friends I put the pieces together. I won't make his mistake." He started kissing the tip again.He was right. I was starting to remember his father pretty well. He seemed pretty shaken. I heard from one of his buddies that he joined campus ministry. I was only thirty-nine then. There was a bit of a resemblance. But this kid wasn't his father's son. He had the soul of a pig, and had probably been in the closet so long that he couldn't go back.

"Yeah. I gave you the gift. And your Dad. And the whole fuckin campus. And you look real fuckin' good in that missing poster." I turned him around and marched him to the fields. I bent him over and fucked him outside, in the daylight, standing up. He hadn't seen sunlight this whole time. 

"I'm never leaving..."

"You're god-damn right, boy."

They should've paid more attention in sex-ed. Too late, especially for the boy. His tongue is up my sweaty hole as I write this. He hasn't tired out this whole six months. Let's see how another six years does him. 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by prettyboyindy
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