Date: Sun, 30 Sep 2012 11:21:03 +0100
From: niftyguy123@hushmail.me
Subject: Willingly Corrupted 3

***Thanks to everyone who has sent comments so far!  Great to hear from
anyone who enjoys this story.  A reminder that this is a total work of
fiction - the actions depicted here never happened, and I am not advocating
this kind of behaviour.  This is a pure fantasy. This chapter does depict
more violent behaviour and if this offends you, then please don't read it!
If you would like to let me know how this story affects you, drop me a line
at niftyguy123@hushmail.me - thanks guys!***


After my first encounter with Mr McDonald's cock, it became clear that we
had crossed some kind of boundary, and from then on things got much more
intense, and extreme. You might be wondering why I kept going back to him,
and also how we managed to get so much time together. First of all, I went
because I wanted to. That might sound strange when I was often so afraid of
what he would do to me, but don't forget that alongside the undoubted
brutality, he was also amazingly tender and loving. I suppose I began to
blank out some of the pain, hurt and humiliation because I'd learnt that he
would always finish by telling me he loved me, that I was special to him,
and that he needed to see me often. For a young boy, just 10 years old, who
found mixing with his peers difficult and awkward, the feeling of being
wanted was, and is, very powerful. And secondly, regarding the time we had
together, you probably can't imagine just how much dead time there is in a
boarding school. Evenings, weekends, long afternoons.... One of the main
challenges for those schools is keeping everyone busy so they don't get
into trouble. I guess it didn't work for me! Other boys noticed that I
wasn't around very much and one, James - who slept in the bed next to mine
in the dormitory and with whom I'd got a bit friendly - often asked me
where I went. Eventually, as you'll hear, James and I became much more
involved together with Mr McDonald and some of his friends, but that came
later...

So by the end of my first month at school, I was regularly visiting a
married man in his study, and learning how to be his boywhore. I learnt
quite quickly that he wanted me to beg him to give me his cock.  I needed
to somehow make it possible for him to believe that I wanted him to punish
me, or hurt me, and that I wanted him to feed me his cock. I would find
myself, moments after going into his study, kneeling in front of him
mouthing the script he'd prepared for me: "Please, Daddy, I need your cock
in my mouth again", or "Please, sir, I've been naughty, and I want you to
make me swallow your cum."  Even though I think what I really wanted, to
begin with, was to please him and for us to get to the kisses and cuddles
that always followed a harsh mouth-fucking by his large cock, I would
sometimes find myself in the day, perhaps in a lesson, rubbing my cock as I
remembered what it felt like when he shouted at me, or slapped his penis
across my face.

Mr McDonald loved to get me down on my knees in front of him while he
stroked himself through his trousers, jeans or shorts with one hand, and my
face and hair with the other. He'd stand there looking down at me in my
school uniform of shirt, tie and shorts, whispering that he loved me, that
I was his good boy...and then he'd suddenly yank my head back hard, and
start to abuse me. I guess, looking back, he was afraid of his own desires
and could only bring himself to act on them by blaming me somehow and
making me responsible for them so that he could disown them, but of course
that was beyond my understanding while it was happening.

The first time he slapped my face, I remember being completely stunned with
the shock and pain of it. After having got used to telling him I was bad or
naughty and telling him that I wanted him to stuff his cock in my mouth,
physical slaps represented a shift to another level of our relationship.

And then I'd have to tell him that yes, I was a cocksucking slut, that I
did want him to hurt me, and that yes, I did need his cock and cum. Looking
back, I guess it was a kind of grooming, where I learnt to want what he
wanted me to want and where I learnt to ignore any fear or pain I felt. He
knew how far to push me and when to stop and cut back in with his kissing
(which I adored) and soft murmurings.

One day I let myself into his room when he wasn't there. I was feeling kind
of sad that day and I remember it was a Saturday. Lots of other boys had
gone home for the weekend and the school house was very quiet. I sat on the
sofa where we had sat so many times now, and waited. While I waited, I
could feel my heart starting to pound and I started to feel slightly
dizzy...excitement and fear together have that effect! I was also aware
that my own cock was stiffening, and I slowly started to rub myself in my
shorts. So far with Mr McDonald, I hadn't cum and he hadn't seemed
interested in making me do so. Often I would lie in bed at night
remembering what had happened, and jerk myself off. I had very intense
orgasms for such a young boy...I guess the level of stimulation I was
getting made it inevitable. Now I slid my hand down the top of my shorts
and started to rub my cock. It felt good, and sitting here in Brian's room
with all it's memories made me very excited.

I guess I'd got carried away and lost in the feelings that my jerking hand
was producing, because I swear I never heard anyone come along the corridor
outside, or anyone knock. But suddenly the door to the study swung open
behind me and Mr Hughes, the maths teacher, walked in. Flustered, I sprang
up from where I was sitting.

"What on earth are you doing?", Mr Hughes said? "Where's Mr McDonald and
what are you doing in his room?"

"I, er,I...", I began, hopelessly lost for words and desperately trying to
hide the erection that I'd been attending to moments before...

...but just then, I heard Mr McDonald's voice outside, and Mr Hughes turned
to face him.

"Just found young Simon here in your room, sitting around as though he
owned the place", said Mr Hughes to Mr McDonald.

Brian looked at me and frowned. He stood with his hand on his hips, and
pursed his lips.

"That's ok, Matt", he replied, "Simon is just waiting for me to give him
some extra French oral practice."

There was a silence. Then I heard Mr Hughes say quietly: "I bet he is,
Brian...I bet he is."

With that he glanced over at me, looked me slowly up and down from head to
toe, and smirked. He gave a shrug and a half laugh and, turning to go,
looked at Brian and said: "Just be careful....be very careful." And then he
left.

After he'd gone, there was a moments silence as Brian and I looked at each
other. I remember he was wearing pale denim jeans and a polo shirt, because
it was a Saturday and teachers dressed casually at weekends. He stood there
with his hands on his hips, staring at me...I knew he was angry with me and
he reached behind him and slowly pushed the door behind him. Then he strode
across the room to where I was standing and, without any of our usual
tender preliminaries, grabbed my head from behind and pushed me slowly to
my knees. Then he slapped me, twice.  He hit me hard, with the back of his
hand and then pulled my face hard into his crotch where I could already
feel his cock stiff and pressing against my face. The he started to tell me
what a bad boy I was, what a slut:

  "You fucking little cocksucking whore...you cockteaser...sitting there
all innocent...I know what you want you little slut?sitting here in my
room.  Who the hell told you it was OK to come in here when I'm out? You
can't keep away from it, can you? Keep coming back for my cock down your
throat and my cum in your mouth, dontcha, eh?"

He yanked my head back until I was looking straight up at him. I could feel
my face burning from where he'd hit me and tears were streaming down my
face. "Please, sir, I'm sorry....I was waiting for you....please..."


"SHUT UP! ", he shouted down at me. "Just shut the fuck up you stupid
little cunt!"

His hand came down on my cheeks, slapping me hard again, twice. I
gasped. "Please, no...", I cried out.  Being slapped was a totally
different thing from telling him I'd been a bad boy and needed his
cock?this was scary and it hurt and I felt afraid.  But my plea only seemed
to anger him more.

He pulled me to my feet, looked down at me and said: "Shut up, Simon..shut
up?this is for your own good."  And with that he began roughly tearing my
clothes off me. I heard the buttons on my uniform shirt popping onto the
floor and rolling away, and I felt the sudden jerk downwards as he ripped
my shorts open and tore them off me. I stood there in my white briefs,
sobbing, rubbing my face. I felt completely miserable and helpless. Why was
he doing this to me? How could I make it stop and go back to being the way
I liked it when he kissed me and told me he loved me.

Now he grabbed me and pulled me in front of him and turned me so that we
were both facing the full-length mirror behind his door. I remember seeing
myself standing there, in my small white pants looking terrified.  Although
I was 10 years old, I was still very skinny and weak looking.  I'd never
been keen on sport, so I guess I hadn't developed muscles like some of the
boys at school. I lifted a hand to my face to wipe away tears that were
falling freely down my cheeks: my cheeks were bright red from the slaps,
and my hair was ruffled from being pulled when Mr McDonald has yanked my
hair back.  I looked defenceless - against the bulk of the man behind me.
I remember that I only reached up to his midriff, about up to his belly
button.  Mr McDonald was quite muscular.  All of the teachers had to lead
sports and so he worked out quite regularly.  He stood directly behind me,
and I could see his hand rubbing his stiff cock through his jeans.  Then he
lifted his polo shirt off in one quick movement and pulled me back against
him so that my light brown hair made contact with his stomach and the back
of my head was resting right against the length of his cock pushing against
his jeans.  He put one forearm round my neck and pulled me hard back
against him and started to hump, slowly but strongly.

"Yeah?feel that Simon?  Feel Daddy's cock pushing up against you?  You want
it don't you?"

Weakly, I nodded.  I knew by now that any questions like this had to be
answered in the affirmative, and quickly, in order to avoid an escalation
of his anger.

"What was that?  I didn't hear you say anything boy", he snarled.  "What
were you telling me?"

I gulped, loudly, as I swallowed back my tears.  "I said yes, I do want
your cock Daddy. I've been bad again and I need you to feed me your cum,
please."

Brian laughed.  A sneery kind of laugh.  "Nice try, boy.  But that ain't
gonna work this time.  That ain't your get out of jail free card anymore."

Again, the sense of things having changed was strong.  Previously, he'd
have started fucking my mouth with his cock now, and after three or four
minutes we'd be back to cuddling and kissing.  But now he seemed to want
something different - and I didn't know what.

Suddenly he gave me a violent shove that sent me sprawling so that I landed
face down on the floor.  I looked up into the mirror and saw Brian removing
the belt from his jeans - he dropped it onto the floor next to him and then
I saw him pull open his jeans - and then yank them down so that he was
standing in his briefs and socks.  He quickly kicked his socks off.
Standing there, legs apart, one hand slid into his briefs and he began to
jack himself off, throwing his head back and groaning.  Another hand slid
up to his chest and he began to squeeze a nipple, which made him groan even
more.

He stepped towards me and put one foot on my back.  "Fucking little whore",
he whispered.  "Fucking little cock-teasing whore - you're going to get
just exactly what I know you've been asking for all these weeks."

He stood astride me and in the mirror I could see him slide his briefs down
and off - kicking them roughly away.  He was completely naked and his cock
jutted strongly out and up and he jacked it continuously.  Then he slowly
knelt down so that he was straddling me and I could feel his weight
settling onto me.  He pulled my head back so that I was once again looking
into the mirror.  "Tell me what you see, Simon - just tell me what you
see", I heard him whisper in my ear.

"I, er, I? I don't know, sir, I can see you and me and?".  I trailed off.
What did he want me to tell him I could see?  I didn't know, but I didn't
want to risk upsetting him again.  The thought of him slapping me on the
face was so scary I'd have done anything to know he wouldn't do that again.

"You can see a slutty little whore - a slutty, smooth, boywhore - and his
Daddy who is teaching him to be good, can't you?".  Again, the words were
whispered in my ear.  I could feel him pressing hard against me and his
cock was lodged between my bum-cheeks.  He was heavy and his cock made me
have to widen my legs.  "Come on, tell me what you can see?"

"I can see a slutty little whore?a, a?." I couldn't remember the rest.

He pulled back on my head - in the mirror I could see my face bright red
again, and I was almost buried beneath this man who had me completely
pinned down.  He was whispering violenty into my ear.  "A sluttly litte
whore?. Say it!", he commanded.

"A slutty little whore", I repeated.

"A slutty little boywhore? Say it!"

"A slutty little boywhore"

"And his Daddy who is teaching him to be good?.go on you little fucker?.SAY
IT!" - Brian shouted these final words loudly down my ear.  I flinched, and
the tears started to flow again, but somehow I managed to get the words
out, my breath ragged and sobbing.

"And his Daddy who is teaching me to be good."

"Yes, that's right, you little slutty whoreboy.  Daddy is teaching you to
be good.  And I'm going to make sure you learn that lesson well."  Mr
McDonald knelt up again and pulled me onto all fours: his strong hands
encircled my slim waist and he lifted me up so that I was kneeling too and
his cock was resting against my brief-encased bum.  He slid his hand under
my briefs and encased my bum with his warm hands?he moaned.  "Mmmm, yes,
that is a sweet, smooth boy ass", I heard him say.  "Daddy needs to teach
you how to take his cock and learn to be a good little boy."  He pulled one
hand out and I saw him in the mirror put one finger into his mouth and get
it wet with his spit. I thought he was going to push it into my mouth like
before, but instead he slid his hand back under my briefs and I felt the
finger start rubbing against my hole.  Our eyes met in the mirror.  He had
a funny, cruel-looking smile on his face and I could feel myself holding my
breath.  What was he doing?

He took his other hand out from under my briefs so quickly I didn't even
realize that it had gone.  But in the mirror, I saw him raise his arm and
then bring the palm of his hand stinging down onto my bum in a violent
slap.  I screamed - and at the same time I felt him push with his finger.
"Aahhhh!", I screamed again.  Another slap - even harder than the first:
"Nooo, pleeease?aaaahhhhh!" - and another push with his finger.  The pain
from his finger, and from his slaps began to mingle so I couldn't
concentrate on either.  But despite my screams, he did not stop.  In fact,
they seemed to spur him on.  "Come on, take it, you want it, I know you
do?feel Daddy's finger inside you boy?.yeah, you slut, take it".  He
continued to assault me with his words, and his slaps, until eventually I
realized that his finger was fully up inside me and the slaps had stopped.
It felt like a huge, stabbing pole inside me and I could hardly breath from
the sensation.  I struggled under him, but he was so much stronger than me
there was absolutely nothing I could do to get away from him.  His legs
gripped mine, and he leant forward.  I could feel his breath on my neck -
he was breathing hard.  He started to whisper in my ear: "Good boy, Simon,
good boy - Daddy loves you, you know?Daddy loves you."  And then he started
to kiss my neck - and to lick gently in my ear.  "Just relax - feel Daddy
inside you - it's because I love you baby."

I looked up at him in the mirror, searching in his face for signs of the
Brian I wanted - the Brian who would kiss me and tell me I was special.  He
looked directly into my eyes, but when I made a small, tentative smile at
him, he didn't return it. Instead - with a suddenness that made me scream
again - pulled his finger right out of my hole.  The sensation of it
leaving me was excruciating, but I started to breathe again.  Maybe he'd
finished now and would start to kiss me again?  I just wanted to forget
what had happened - to get up from under him and maybe even go and find my
friend James?I felt exhausted and I felt scared.

But no - now put his hands under my armpits and lifted me into a kneeling
position.  Then he walked behind me and, with one foot, kicked my knees
wide apart so that I lost my balance and tipped forwards. He moved back in
front of me and pulled me round to face him as he stood staring into the
mirror.  From his position, he would just be able to see my smooth back and
my bum as I tipped forward into his crotch.  Instinctively, I opened my
mouth for his cock.  After our previous encounters, I knew that this part
was something I could do well.  His cock was wet and had a loose foreskin
that he'd taught me to pull back.  I did this now and looking up at him, I
started to lick the head of his cock, lapping up the precum that was
leaking copiously from it.  He looked down at me and he seemed to be in a
kind of trance.  His eyes were hooded, and his mouth open.  "Yeah, yeah,
yeah", he murmured as I continued to lick and then suck on his cock.  His
hand went round the back of my head and pulled me strongly onto his meat -
his hips started to thrust - and I mentally prepared for the usual
onslaught of thick wet cock in my mouth, pushing down my gullet, making me
gag.  But after only a few thrusts, he once more pulled me up under the
arms and spun me around so that I was again facing the mirror.  His hand
slid into the front of my briefs, and I felt it encircle my cock.  "Mmmmm",
he crooned. "Let Daddy feel that little boy cock?mmmmm that sweet, little,
hairless boycock?. yes, yes, yes, yes, YES".  By now I think I must have
been nearly in a trance too.  I was losing any sense of what was happening,
how long this had been going on, or when it would likely end.  But the fact
that Brian had taken his cock out of my mouth before cumming meant that
things had not yet come to a conclusion.

Now he shoved me again - but this time onto the sofa, so that I ended up
face down on the seat with my bum in the air.

"Oh, my, fucking, God", I heard Brian say.  I could hear him jacking his
wet cock.  "Look at that fucking sweet little boy ass?mine for the
taking?why shouldn't I have it?"  It sounded like he was talking to
someone, but there was no one else there.  "He wants to give it to me - I
want it - so why the fuck not?" he went on.  "Take it while I can - that's
what I need to do."

Now I felt his hands on my bum again.  Initially caressing, sliding under
the briefs again, but once again, things changed when Brian suddenly pulled
my briefs open at the back.  I felt his fingers ripping at them and after a
moments resistance, I heard the fabric tearing, leaving my bum exposed - my
crack wide open to Brian who started talking again: "Fucking little
boicunt?smooth?tight?perfect hole for Daddy's cock?mmmmmmmmmmm" - he broke
off into a kind of howl, and I felt him move behind me and then the head of
his cock force its way into the crack of my bum.  I instinctively pulled
away, but as always, he was prepared and held my hips in his hands'
vice-like grip.  He started rubbing his cock up and down my crack - pulling
the cheeks of my bum wide open to make room for his fully wet and engorged
member.

"Oh sweet fucking Jesus", he muttered.  "Oh fucking hell - yes".

He leant forward and started whispering in my ear.  "You want to please
Daddy, don't you, Simon?  You want us to kiss and cuddle and stroke each
other again, don't you baby?  Tell me you want that, Simon - tell me."

"Yes, I want that - please", I whispered back.  And it was true - I wanted
that more than anything.  I wanted to please Brian too - that was something
he knew as well, and something he knew how to use.

"Yeah", he replied, "I know you do baby.  But you've got to prove to Daddy
that you love him first.  You keep telling me you love me, but I never know
it's for real.  You gotta prove it to me baby - and I'm going to show you
how."

With that, the slaps on my bum started again.  They landed thick and fast,
hard and vicious.  The pain was immense.  I could no longer scream.  I
think I was dazed.  Instead, I think I just kind of shut down as he opened
me up to the next level of our relationship.

I was dimly aware of his pushing into me, of an unbearable sensation of
pain and a kind of light blinding me from within as he forcibly pushed his
seven inch cock into my ten year old boy cunt. I only remember fragments of
that initial fucking?his breath on my neck?his hands gripping my hips and
then playing with my nipples?of a hard, heavy pounding between my legs?and
words whispered in my ear - 'Daddy', 'Whore', 'Love', 'Cunt'?  I also
remember the moment when he filled me with his cum?the groan that erupted
from deep within him and the intensity of his thrusting as his orgasm
began.  As he shot, he pulled me back by the shoulders and bit my neck -
hard.  There was no part of me that was not numbed with pain?my face, my
mouth, my bum, my hole?.in a way I'd stopped feeling it because there was
nothing beyond it.

When Brian eventually pulled out of me, I fell forward onto the sofa and I
was, literally, broken.  Now I felt the lack of him as painfully as I'd
felt his intrusion into me.  I slid my hand between by bum and felt his
wetness - the cum that was slopping back out of my hole.  I rubbed myself
softly, and begain to moan.  Brian flopped down beside me, moaning - hot -
sweating.  He also slid his finger into my crack and rubbed against my
cunt?he brought the cum he found to my mouth and pushed it through my lips.
"Baby, take this from Daddy.  It means I love you."  As Brian rolled onto
the floor, exhausted, I was sure that I heard a laugh from outside the door
- quiet, but distinct. Did I hear someone say, with heavy irony, ' Great
French oral'?  Brian had somehow taken me from a little boy who was
tentatively and nervously exploring a physical relationship with an older
man, to a used and abused boiwhore.  Now there was little more that was
going to shock me or leave me wondering what was going to happen yet.  Of
course, that didn't mean that there weren't still many more things that
would happen that would deepen my sexual depravity, but now he had used me
in the most powerful way that a man can use a boy, and in doing so he'd
made me his.  From now on, I increasingly came to know that Mr McDonald,
Brian, was my world and that what he wanted from me, I should not deny him.

Tenderness intermingled with brutality is a powerful controller, and next
time I'll tell you about the first bath we had together?in his own house,
with his own boys.

***Thanks to everyone who has sent comments so far!  Great to hear from
anyone who enjoys this story.  A reminder that this is a total work of
fiction - the actions depicted here never happened, and I am not advocating
this kind of behaviour.  This is a pure fantasy.  If you would like to let
me know how this story affects you, drop me a line at
niftyguy123@hushmail.me - thanks guys!***