Date: Tue, 20 Sep 2011 18:08:19 -0700
From: marianasdeep3@hushmail.com
Subject: Fucked by the Man of the House, part 5

The Deep

Thanks for the nice comments, and sorry for the delay.  Time,
horniness, and a private place to write all have to align, and it's
been a long busy summer.  Thanks to Daniel for the ... er...visual
suggestion that Brian take it on his back this time.  As the visual
was described, he really IS becoming a well trained bottom boy.

Part 5

I heard Robert leave for The Bullfrog, the front door slamming.
Finally alone, I could contemplate what had just happened.  I had
just been fucked for my first time.  In less than a week, curiosity
and getting caught in desire with porn led to me reluctantly giving
my first blowjob.  The experience opened that suppressed side of
me.  And Robert's belittling of me and his control over me made me
submissive, submissive to the point that, by the second blowjob, I
was actually wanting his cock in my mouth.  By the next blowjob, I
wanted it up my ass, but held out against what it meant:  that I
was a faggot, by Robert's definition, one who takes cock up his
butt.  But by the fourth blowjob, I wanted to suck his cock so bad
that he got me to beg for it, to agree to pay for the privilege
with my virginity.

The ache in my unclosed ass with the occasional spurt of cum into
my underwear was a constant reminder that I was now a pussy.  The
rest of the house was out on the town.  I was at home savoring
Robert's sperm, his load my prize, up my butt.  Meanwhile he was
out carousing for his next fuck, with my virginity soundly taken,
my masculinity conquered. Me his latest score, he was now moving on
to the next, my ass confidently his claim.  I found out this
weekend how much he owned it.  I descended further into submission,
further losing my manhood with each fucking I got.

The house empty, I fell asleep by 10 pm, perhaps the earliest I
ever retired on a Friday.  At 2 am, I awoke to noise, fumbling on
the lock and door.  I was sure it was Robert, and I confirmed by
the single footsteps crossing the living room that he was alone,
that Paul and Cindy did indeed leave for the weekend.  He wasn't
with Vicky or Mary either, and with Paul and Cindy gone, I suddenly
realized he had no one but me for a bedtime fuck.  He rarely went
without one, but I could tell he was too drunk this time, his body
slamming down on the bed he shared with Cindy.  I was relieved.
There was no way I was ready to get fucked again now.

I savored the sleep, sleeping around the clock a rare privilege,
delighted that the house was still silent at 10 am.  I got up and
crossed the living room to get to the bathroom for a shower,
noticing with relief that Cindy's door was closed with Robert
asleep inside.  I took a long shower, shaved, and brushed my teeth,
then returned to my room and got dressed.  I walked into the
kitchen and started in on some breakfast.  I had a goal to get out
of the house to study, to get caught up in the other classes I had
dumped prepping for the Calc exam I had just bombed.  The library
would be empty on this football Saturday.

"Hey Brian, get in here.  I need a fuck."

I couldn't believe myself:  I just obeyed and walked in.  Robert
got off the bed, and having slept in just his underwear was quickly
nude.  I was the one dressed this time, Robert nude for a change,
but there was no power differential as there was whenever I was the
one nude.  I was shedding my clothes one article at a time, well
aware which one of us was going to take cock up his ass, which one
of us was going to have yet more sperm up his butt.  Robert's
nudity was not vulnerability, just impatience, his cock hardening,
hard enough already to be seeking relief.  With my ass slated to be
that relief, I assumed a position on all fours on the bed as
before, ass raised ready to receive, reluctantly but resolved to it.

"Not that way.  I want you to know that you're a slut.  Sluts
spread their legs lying on their back."

I got onto my back and separated my legs, knees slightly raised,
but all else flat on the bed including my feet.  I obviously didn't
know what to do.  I didn't know a guy could take it missionary.
Robert sensed my confusion--I could tell he reveled in that--then
commanded that I put my feet in the air.  When I complied, he
placed the underside of my knees on his shoulders and rolled me
back.

"The only difference between a slut and a faggot is how far you
have to roll them back to get at their pussy."

Rolled back he pressed his weight on the backside of my legs,
pinning my knees to my chest.  He wasted no time inserting.  My
hole was still so open that his cock went in much more easily than
for my first fuck.  Not that it didn't hurt, but more of an ache
than a jabbing pain, like pressing on a bruise.  I moaned my
discomfort, but didn't sound a cherry-popping yelp as before.  Thus
there was no denying I had been fucked before, and Robert, now
fully inserted, began his thrusts already.

"Sluts spread easily, and you spread like butter!"

To my surprise, his thrusts were just as forceful in this position
as they were for my first, when Robert was bouncing off my ass like
an exercise ball while I took it from behind.  Each thrust slapped
my butt, his pubis pinching and bruising flesh against my ischium,
knocking my butt, sliding me up the bed.  Occasionally he would
have to grab my hips, lift and pull me back down to re-align and
continue the fuck.

But the new perception in this fuck was from the eye contact made
possible in this position.  Robert was watching my face for my
reaction, and enjoying all of it, from pleasure to discomfort, from
satisfaction to humiliation.  In return, I experienced his
satisfaction:  lustful, controlling, dominating.  Usually I
couldn't make eye contact, turning away in shame, but returning my
gaze to his chest.  Powerful, muscular but with ribs showing,
upturned tits signaling his own puerile excitement.  His attention
was soon turned to my tits.

"When I've got a moaner like you, I just gotta have `em.  Don't
tell anyone.  It's the only gay thing I do."  With that he back off
a bit, rolling me down to plant his chest on my abdomen, and soon
had one of my tits in his mouth, sucking hard, occasionally with
nibbling teeth, his cock still inserted, still thrusting.  I lost
it and gave him the moans he was looking for.  He soon had the
other tit in his mouth.  Again I had no control.  It was then that
I felt an overwhelming sense of being a bitch.  It left me with a
confused and angry question echoing in my head.  "Just what fucking
sex am I!?"

I surrendered to it, "Fuck me, Robert."

Robert rolled me back again, knees to face this time, slamming my
butt as before, "Yeah, take it bitch."  With each thrust I moaned,
"Oh, yeah, fuck me...Oh, yeah, fuck me."  Robert wanted more by
wanting to hear less, his thrusts became so forceful that the mix
of pain and pleasure left me with only moaning, unclear even to me
whether it was desire or protest, "Ah ... Ah...Ah," each one ending in
a wimper.  It threw Robert over the top, and this time I could
watch his face as his hidden cock buried deep inside me exploded
its cum, his face reveling in satisfaction and conquest.

Robert rested on top of me for a short while, then matter-of-factly
pulled out, wiped his cock on my underwear and went to the bathroom
to shower.  This time I got nothing, no, "with me the ladies cum
first," as before.  I was just part of his morning routine.  As
with most of the blowjobs before, I was left to satisfy myself,
which I did while listening to the shower run.  God this guy's an
asshole.  Why do I let him fuck me?

>From all the previous Saturdays with Robert in the house, morning
fuck or not, I knew Robert wasn't going to go anywhere.  Usually he
sat around all day and watched college football on T.V., in his
underwear of course, a source of my original turn-on.  I had to get
out of here.  Back to the original plan, the library and studying.
But I was seeping again, my asshole re-opened, re-seeded with cum.
I couldn't let it soak into my underwear all day.  Then I saw a box
of Cindy's tampons on the dresser, the kind that lines the
underwear, and the kind you insert.  I quickly had my underwear
padded, put them on and got dressed, but I realized it wouldn't be
enough.  Could I insert one?  Leave it in all day?  I had to try,
zipped down and flipped the back side of my jeans and underwear
back down, and easily inserted one up my ass.  I zipped up and was
gone before Robert left the shower.