Date: Wed, 23 Nov 2011 16:55:47 -0800
From: marianasdeep3@hushmail.com
Subject: Part 7:  Fucked by the Man of the House

For Bob, who strongly suggested I needed a chapter about what
happened to Jeff:

Part 7

I awoke the next morning and decided I needed to get out of the
house right away.  It was only Sunday morning and I had already
been fucked three times this weekend, having never been fucked
before.  I knew my ass was too sore to take it again.  Robert had
fucked my ass hard, showing off to Joe last night, and I had a
belly full of Joe's cum.  Joe came a lot, more than Robert ever
did, most likely because he's not constantly fucking like Robert,
not as satisfied, so his cum was thick, and it almost all went
down.  I could still taste Joe's cock, and his cum was upsetting my
stomach a little.

Again this morning Robert was asleep, door closed like yesterday
morning, but unlike yesterday I wasn't going to go through my
morning routine at home, giving him a chance to call me in for his
morning fuck.  To get out of Dodge fast, I was going to skip
showering and eat breakfast out.  A quick scan of the living room
confirmed that Joe didn't spend the night, was not sprawled out on
the couch like usual in his underwear, a sexual tease though
unaware in his sleep.  As I dressed, I noticed that the hickies
Robert gave me around my tits had faded, and thus I could go do my
swimming workout and get a shower there.

When I finished my swim, I removed my suit and headed to that icon
of American repressed homosexuality, the communal shower room.
Last time in this locker-room I may have noticed the hickies in the
mirror, leaving before heading off to embarrassment on the pool
deck, but I didn't notice my butt.  It's harder to notice your
butt.  I had examined it after each fuck, but only to tend to my
open and cum-leaking hole.  I never noticed that Robert's spanking
slaps on my ass had done more than temporarily reddened it, and I
walked into the communal shower room with broken blood vessels on
my butt cheeks, outlining areas of the hand slaps.  I couldn't
understand why I was getting stares and started getting
uncomfortable.  I hurriedly finished and went to get dressed.

"So you like getting spanked?  Is it you or your girl who's into
kinky?" came from out of the blue.

My jaw just dropped in embarrassed surprise.  I was relieved that
his hetero assumptions indicated he wasn't coming on to me, but I
was intimidated by the fact he was teasing me, an American-style,
locker-room taunting from middle school days gone by.  I quickly
wrapped a towel around myself and went into the bathroom to the
sounds of his continued laughing.  I couldn't believe what I saw in
the mirror!  When the coast was clear, I quickly dressed and left.

I was hungry for breakfast and headed to the Denny's, passing The
Bullfrog along the way.  My thoughts strayed to Robert's boast
about fucking Jeff there, "How can a guy fuck someone in a
bathroom, in any public place?"  As if my thought put him there, I
saw Jeff across the street.  I didn't want to deal with him,
quickly ducking into the Denny's, but he was already crossing the
street.  I was being seated when he came in the door, finding my
table.

"Brian, can I join you?" he asked.

"Sure, take a seat." I replied, reluctance noticeable in my voice.

"Can we take a more private table in back?" he asked.

"I guess so." I said.  I was a little irritated by the move but
managed to hide it.

"How are you doing?" he asked, feigning interest.  I could tell he
had an agenda.  I tried to divert it.

"Good.  I'm planning to audition for a symphony.  Gonna practice
today," I said.

"Oh, that's right.  Flute, right?" he asked, again feigning
interest.

"Yeah ..." I replied, but he quickly changed course.

"Brian, can I ask you something?" he asked, and with my affirming
nod, he continued, "Did Robert fuck you?"

"You boys interested in some coffee?" the waitress asked.  Jesus
Christ, what timing.  She couldn't have NOT heard that.

"No," I quickly replied, "I mean yes, I would like some coffee.
Jeff?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.  At least now he was temporarily
derailed.

When she left, I reaffirmed my "no" to Jeff to the subject at hand.
 Jeez, I thought to myself, did Robert, or perhaps now Joe already,
alert the media or something?  My thought was a little bit
confirmed.

"Robert said he did...," Jeff stated.

"To who?  To you?  Just you?" I asked interrupting, my irritation
audible.

"Who else?" he asked back.

"That's what I want to know." I then inverted his question.  "Did
he tell the group, did you hear it directly, or did you hear it
through the grapevine?"

"To me.  What group?  Why are you paranoid?" Jeff asked.

"Jeff, I know you and Joe joined the group at The Bullfrog Friday
night..." I replied, and to return fire a little, "...and I know what
happened to you."

Stunned silent, he paused a bit, then said, "Well, that's what I
want to talk to you about."

The coffee arrived, followed by the ordering banter.  I hadn't even
looked at the menu, but selected something fast, wanting it over
with.

"Well, I guess it's my turn to ask.  How did you find out?  Who did
he tell?" Jeff asked.

"Robert told me.  Actually he told Joe with me in earshot.  We were
both very surprised." I replied.

"Jeez, what was he telling Joe for?  God damnit!" Jeff added.

"Robert's into conquest, bottomline.  And he loves nothing more
than to boast about it." I said.

"Well, that's even more what I want to talk to you about.  How did
it happen to you ...," he asked.  When I wasn't getting his drift,
"Let me ask it this way:  did you WANT to get fucked."

"Jeff, come on.  Aren't you getting a little personal.  How about I
ask what enquiring minds want to know.  Did YOU want it?  I mean,
how the fuck can you get fucked in a bathroom in a bar?" I asked.

He was stunned silent, and I could tell I hurt him, "Jeff, I'm
sorry."  He started to cry.  I tried to console him by answering
his question.  "You know, I don't really know.  Yeah, I wanted to
get fucked, I guess.  Maybe not the way he did it.  Or maybe I did."

"What was the way he did it?" Jeff asked.

"Jeff, jeez." When I saw him starting to tear up again, I answered,
"Look, I've always thought Robert was an immature asshole, but he
excites the hell out me sexually.  I've struggled my whole life
trying not to admit to such attractions.  But he broke me down,
made me admit it to myself, then fucked me to the point that I ...,"
I hesitated, "I guess I'm actually thankful."

"So you enjoyed it then?" Jeff asked.

"Jeff?!"  I looked incredulous again.

"I'm not asking for titillation, I just need to know if you wanted
it or if he forced you." Jeff clarified.

"Look, you can tell by my responses that I'm on the fence about it.
 He's very dominant and manipulative at the same time.  And I've
already told you I think he's an asshole.  But by the time it
happened, he had me asking for it." I said.

"How?  I mean how did he manipulate the situation?" Jeff asked.

"Well, it started with me giving him a blowjob after he caught me
with gay porn.  So he knew I had tendencies.  Do you have
tendencies?" I asked, honestly curious.

"No." he said.

"Jeff, how can a guy without tendencies give another guy a blowjob,
even if it's `just a friend helping a friend,' as Robert claims
isn't gay?" I asked rhetorically.  "Are you sure you're not denying
some true desires?"

"No, I mean I'm sure ..." Jeff responded, but I cut him off.

"Jeff.  Joe and I were surprised as hell that Robert fucked you,
especially at The Bullfrog.  We pressed him on it, you know, asking
him the hows and whys.  So I'm going to tell you what he said.  He
said you started getting all faggy when you were sucking his cock.
In other words, that you were getting into it ..."

"That's a lie!" Jeff said interrupting, but I continued.

"You remember him saying how he can tell the difference between a
friend helping a friend and a faggot?  A faggot gets into it and is
willing to take it up the ass?"  I asked.

"Yeah ..." he said, but again I kept going.

"I get HIS distinction between a friend and a faggot, `it's not gay
unless you take it up the ass?'  I don't agree with it, but I get
it.  To be honest though, I don't get how you ... I mean a friend,
can give another friend a blowjob unless you're `into it' and you
can't be `into it' unless you've got some gay tendencies."

"I wasn't `getting into it' contrary to what Robert said," Jeff
responded.

"Jeff, be honest with yourself.  How can you be on the end of
someone's cock and not be `into it' ... unless you're being raped." I
said.

"That's what I'm getting at!" Jeff said.  I was silent awhile.

"...  I see.  You think it was rape." I acknowledged.

"It WAS rape." Jeff said.

"Friday?  What about the other blowjobs you gave him earlier.  Were
they rape?"  I asked.

"They weren't blowjobs!" he said offended.

"They weren't?" I asked incredulously.

"No.  See when Robert gets horny, he gets dominant, grabs me and
shit, you know like wrestling.  Now he just asks, tells me he needs
me to help him out again.  But the first couple of times, he would
push my head down to his crotch and unzip, pull my head in and make
me smell it, saying, `Come on boy, help me out.  Give it a suck.'
I was grossed out by the smells, and then he exposes his cock.  I
was repulsed.

"Jeff, that's kinda how he started with me after he caught me with
gay porn.  I started with blowjobs too," I said, "With the porn, I
couldn't deny that I was at least somewhat interested.  He enticed
me by telling me he was just offering me what I wanted."

"Well, I was just giving him what HE wanted.  They weren't
blowjobs.  I would lick his cock, especially the underside of his
head, maybe shine the tip a little.  I didn't suck anything out."
Jeff explained, "He could tell I would rather not be doing this,
but I didn't mind helping him out."

"Did he cum whenever you were on him?"  I asked.

"Yeah, but not in my mouth ... or at least I didn't swallow.  I would
spit out.  He would get a little pissed at that, but he was content
to just release on my face and be done with it." Jeff explained.

"Jeff, how can you do that if you'd rather not?"  When I didn't get
a response, "Jeff, why are you asking me what happened to me?  What
happened to you Friday?  What was different this time?"

"I got fucked, that's what." Jeff replied, "Look, I don't think the
blowjob was the rape."

"OK, but that's not what I'm asking.  Why did Robert conclude you
were `into it', a `faggot' ready to take it up the ass and not just
a `friend'?"  I asked.  "Give me the details about Friday."

"O.K., do you promise you won't tell anyone?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure, but bear in mind that Robert's already boasted about
it to Joe too." I said.

"I mean don't tell anyone the details.  O.K., we were sitting at
the table.  Joe, Paul, and Cindy leave to go to the train..." Jeff
started in.

"What about Vicki and Mary?" I asked.

"They had left already ...," he responded.

I interrupted as he tried to start up again, "Let me ask YOU
something.  Did Robert blab to the whole group that he fucked me?"

"No ..." Jeff answered, then continued, "In fact that's the news he
shared with me in private to suggest WE fuck.  After the others
left, I went to the bathroom.  Robert comes in later, and I'm
surprised when he gives me the usual `Jeff, I need some help with
my cock.'  I said, `here?'  I've helped him in some risky places
before, outside a few times, but mostly in his room or mine.  Never
before in a public place.  He goes `yeah, why not?'  I said
something about someone coming in and he says that's what stalls
are for.  He grabs me and pulls me into one of the stalls and makes
me sit.  He stands in front of me, zips down and pulls down, and
lifts my legs off the floor to hide them as if he's pissing
standing.  He holds my legs like wheel barrow handles the whole
time I'm helping him out.  He told me I was slurping too loudly,
but that's because I had to lean in to get at the underside of his
cock while he's leaning forward over my knees.  My slurping
continued, and he's like, `Jeff, are you enjoying yourself?'  `No,
I can't reach your cock.'  Just then someone walks in and he shoves
his cock in my mouth to shut me up.  I'm having to hold his cock in
my mouth the whole time, so I'm drooling and getting overwhelmed
with his smells `cause I had to breathe through my nose.  So that
all makes the slurping noises louder when he pulls out when the guy
finally leaves, then another comes in and I'm left with his cock in
my mouth again..."  Jeff suddenly stopped.

"O.K. boys, here's your food.  One `Moons-over-my-Hammy'," the
waitress said, setting the plate in front of me, "and one stack of
buttermilks," setting the other plate in front of Jeff.  I got the
sense that she wasn't interested in the conversation she was
catching snippets of, wasn't even comfortable serving us as she
quickly left.

I resumed the conversation, "So he thinks you're into it because
you're drooling?"

"...Well, that, and something came over me.  I hate to admit this
part, but after all these times sucking his cock, I wanted to
swallow it ... And it's like he instantly sensed it.  He goes, `Jeff,
I think you're turning a corner.'  I pulled off to deny it, but
then put his cock in my mouth again.  I don't know what came over
me.  I don't usually do that.  He goes `No? ... pussyboy, you're
spending a lot of time over the end of my cock.'  I said `eh hah'
with the cock in my mouth, but he goes, `yeah, huh.  And you're
sucking.  You don't usually do that!'  I didn't notice that as I
was tasting his precum, I was sucking for more.  I've briefly
tasted his cum before, before spitting it out, so I knew what it
would be like if I could get some, and I started wanting some.  He
goes, `Jeff, are you a faggot?  Do you want my cum?  Come on you
bitch, suck my cock."  I started to pull off to deny it, but he
grabbed my head, `Come on you little cocksucker.'  Then he started
fucking my face.  He'd never done that before.  And before long I
had a mouthful.  He told me to suck it down, `swallow it you
cocksucker,' and I complied because I kinda wanted it anyway..."

"... and had the chance." I interrupted.  "So you wanted it," I
clarified for him.

He thought a bit about that, and then said, "Yeah, his cum I guess.
 But that didn't give him the right to fuck me.  I didn't want
that."

"Jeff, the time after I first WANTED to swallow, I WANTED to get
fucked.  I held out against it, but I WANTED to get fucked.  And
the next time, I WAS fucked.  Maybe Robert just rushed you a
little?" I asked, "I think you're wanting me to play devil's
advocate here?"

"Well, I guess that's why I was asking how it happened to you?"
Jeff said, a question in his voice.

"Jeff, just like the blowjob, he made me admit it to myself first.
He played one desire off the other.  I wanted to give him a blowjob
so bad, he made me offer my ass." I said.

"So you didn't want it? ..." Jeff asked.

"I just said I did..." I interrupted.

"Why did he make you trade it then?  Did he force you at ALL?" Jeff
made his point.

"First, he kind of surprised me, coming home early from work when I
was alone at home.  At first I thought he was an intruder.  He told
me what he wanted, and what he thought I wanted.  When I tried to
deny it, Robert DID say he didn't care what I wanted, that I didn't
know what I wanted.  I asked if he'd be willing to wear a condom
and he said no, that when he fucks, the fucked gets knocked up.
When I asked him to use a condom, he knew he had me bagged.  That's
all kinda a psychological forcing, but he didn't throw me up
against a wall or something.  Did he use physical force with you?"

"Yes," said Jeff, "He kinda did throw me against the wall of the
stall.  He's so huge, I kept crying for him to pull out, and he
wouldn't," he paused starting to tear, "He kept saying he was Kobe
Bryant, that when he starts fucking he doesn't stop, like you said,
when he fucks, the fucked gets knocked up.  And Kobe raped that
chick, I don't care what the press says."

"How did it start?" I asked.  Jeff looked uncomfortable so I
continued, "You said he used me to get you."

"After I swallowed, he said, `You know, Brian discovered this week
that he liked to suck cock, then he wanted to get fucked.  Do you
want to get fucked?' and I said `no.'  He goes, `Are you sure?
Once Brian wanted to swallow cum, he said he wanted sperm up his
butt.'  And I said `no' again."

"Well, I never said that, but I'm gonna ask you this for you to ask
yourself.  WAS there any desire on your part to have his cum up
your ass?"

"Well, was there for you?" Jeff countered.

"You know he fucked my roommate Paul, outted him.  Once I asked
Paul if he thought sex with Robert was risky and if he used
condoms.  His reply took me back.  He said he wanted Robert's cum
up his ass, not in a condom, up his ass.  It's strange to realize
that desire, but I could relate ...You gotta consider this when you
ask yourself what signals you were sending Robert.  Was there any
part of you that wanted cum up your ass?"

Jeff thought long and hard, "...No..."

I pressed a bit, "That sounded a little unsure ... `If you want cum
down your throat are you sure you don't want sperm up your butt?'"

More thought, more silence, "...Well yeah, but I don't want to get
fucked for it."

I laughed, surprising both of us, "How else are you going to get it
there?"

"Look, I don't want to get fucked, o.k.?  I don't want to be a
faggot." Jeff responded angrily.

"Yeah, but did he play off your desire?"  I asked.

"OK, so this is what happened.  He told me to swallow his load, and
like I said, I did.  So then he goes, `If you liked that, I've got
another load for your butt.'  I said, `no thanks."  So then he
brings up you, that you wanted sperm up your butt, so that's two
more times when I said `no.'  He then says, "I think you DO want
sperm up your butt.'  For the 4th time I say no, and he says,
`Bullshit.  Bend over."  I said `no' again, that's 5, and that's
when he grabbed me.  He pulled me up from the seat, spins me around
and pushes me against the stall wall.  He pulled my t-shirt over my
head, and then says, `drop `em.'  I don't know why, but I complied,
fumbling with my belt, button and zipper, scared I guess.  When I
finally pulled my jeans and underwear down to my knees, with his
help, he goes, `See, if you drop `em, you want sperm up your butt.
You're both offering and asking.'  I said `no.'  I guess that's
6...Jeez I just realized now.  I said no 6 fucking times!  His cock
was full of sperm and spit, so he rubs it around my hole, `Want
some of that up your butt?'  I didn't answer, he says, `I'll take
that as a yes,' and he inserted."

I looked at Jeff and thought for awhile.  He was considering
bringing rape charges.  But Robert had used a lot of the same
tactics with me.  Jeff certainly said `no' more often than I did,
yet his thoughts about the events and the way they occurred were
very similar to my own.  I started questioning myself, "Why does
Jeff feel raped, while I'm turned on by Robert's dominance?"  Jeff
noticed my silence, so I gathered a response.

"As they say, `no means no,'" I said to him in support.

"Exactly, but that's not all." Jeff responded.

"He threw you against the wall?" I asked.

"Well, that too, but that's not all." he said.  When he could sense
I didn't get it, he continued, "He seemed so fucking angry when he
was fucking me, `I don't know how I could have someone on the end
of my cock for so long, and not know that he's a faggot!' he goes."

We were both silent awhile.  Jeff started to tear up, "...and he's so
fucking huge.  `Robert, stop.  Pull out.  Take it out' I kept
crying." Jeff was now crying audibly, `And instead he's feeding me
all this Kobe Bryant shit.  He knows that hurts me the most.
`Cause we play basketball together.  That's his dominance, his
claim he's better than me.  Then he cums and I feel my asshole get
all slimey.  I knew I was fucked..."

"Here's your bill boys.  You can just pay up front when you leave."
the waitress said, herself quickly leaving.

I hadn't thought of the sports aspect of all this.  Jeff, Robert,
and Joe played ball together, watched sports together.  And though
I assume they all played on the same league team, it's still all
competitive, even more-so personally, within the team.  Competition
these days is all about humiliating the other.  That's an angle I
didn't have to deal with.  I was fit, but enjoyed the sports that
were a personal challenge, like swimming.  Yeah, you can be on a
team, but who gives a shit if the team loses?  It's still a
personal quest.  You can even be on a losing team and still go to
State.  I wasn't even on a team, didn't watch any sports on T.V.,
was not part of the national religion.  Jeff's next remark let me
know he was on that page:

"God, I'm going to have to quit the team," he started crying again
as it was a new revelation to him, "How can I possibly face my
teammates?  They're all gonna know that Robert fucked me."

Six times saying no before the fuck.  Pleading with him to pull out
during the fuck.  Feeling not just dominated, but humiliated
afterwards.  And Joe's reaction when Robert told us:  stunned
silence, a question as an accusation that Robert raped Jeff, not
letting Robert off the hook, not agreeing that Jeff admitted he
wanted it.  I could see it was rape.  It unsettled me that I didn't
see mine that way, but could for his.  I had no more questions for
Jeff about the incident, rather what was coming next.

"So you're going to press charges?" I asked.

"I already did." He responded.

"You did?" I asked surprised.

"Yes.  Robert finishes the fuck and says, "there, now you've got
the sperm up your butt you always wanted."  He just starts zipping
up.  I told him he misread me, but he just leaves, calling me a
pussy.  I turned around and sat down trying to clean up.  There was
a little blood, which scared me, but mostly I felt sore, like my
ass wouldn't close.  So after about 10 minutes, I decided I needed
to go to the doctor.  He examined me and asked what happened...",
Jeff trailed off, then started to tear up again, "It was so
humiliating to tell him I had been fucked, even if I could call it
rape.  In fact, in some ways, calling it rape was worse.  If you
consented, well then you're just fucked like you wanted, but if
you're raped, you're questioned why you didn't fight him off.  I
mean COULDN'T fight him off.  Either way, you're a pussy," then
after a bit of silence he added, "Why doesn't he just go down to
The Sugar Shack and fuck some gay guy?"

"Jeff, rape isn't about sex, it's about power." I responded.  I
surprised myself with my own revelation.  I was dominated,
humiliated even, so what made it erotic for me and rape for him?  I
continued, "Robert doesn't want to fuck gay guys, he wants to fuck
straight dudes."  When it sunk in a little, I alluded to the
subject of eroticism versus rape, "It's erotic for him, but I hate
to admit, it's also erotic for me.  I can't claim rape."

"Yeah, well I can, and I'm going to.  I don't care if everyone's
going to know, `cause they're all going to know anyway," Jeff
responded.

"But you know why I was playing devil's advocate.  You know, with
rape, they put the VICTIM on trial."  We sat in silence.  I finally
broke it with the thoughts I was having about myself, "I guess it's
a thin line between being dominated, with both turned on by it, and
being raped when you're not into it."  I decided to console him a
little, "When he heard Robert's boast, Joe sorta accused Robert of
raping you, and when Robert said you were asking for it, he said
that it didn't sound like you agreed to anything."

"Yeah, Joe's a good guy." Jeff responded, pleased.

"I know you've got a problem now measuring up, you know, the team
and all that.  Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're less a
man."

"I'm not gay," Jeff said, "I have a girlfriend."

"Jeff, so do I!" I replied.

"You do?  Who?" he asked.

"Vicki," I replied incredulously, "you knew that."

"Why do you identify with being gay then?" Jeff asked.

"I don't, but I can admit I have gay tendencies.  I guess that
means I'm bi." I said.

"Is it bi, or denial?"  Jeff asked.

A totally new subject, I didn't feel obliged to answer.  After some
more silence, "Are you sure you want to go through with it?"

"The doctor said I had to.  He sampled and got Robert's DNA ... oh
Jeez, I've got Robert's DNA up my butt, his little swimmers ... I
gave a statement to the police.  It was so humiliating:  giving a
statement ... being examined ... sampled?"

"The other problem with rape is it's `he said, she said,' ... Sorry,
just a phrase." I said, realizing it could be taken as a slight,
"Do you have any witnesses?"

"No, but maybe people willing to testify about Robert's character.
Maybe I can get Joe.  Maybe that's another reason I'm asking if
Robert raped you?" Jeff's ending with a question was a request.

"I'm not sure I could do that.  Robert plays rough, but I have to
admit I wanted to get fucked.  I guess that's why I'm telling you
to be sure you know the answers to these questions we discussed,
for when they cross-examine you."

"Yeah, I know," said Jeff.

With that, he seemed satisfied, at least that he was done with me.
I looked at my food, now already cold.  Nothing more gross than
cold eggs.  I guess I could have asked to have them reheated, but I
wanted to get out of there.  Jeff did too.  We were like two horses
feeding at a trough in silence, then paid the bill and left.