Disclaimer and Legal Stuff:  Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?).  If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it, and leave my name on it.  Thanks.

Behind the Eight Ball
Chapter Three

The bedroom door flew open and crashed into the wall.  Ben stomped into the room, glaring at me.  "Son of a bitch," he glowered.  "He couldn't lay there and rest up for his fuck, could he?"  It had only been about two minutes since Ben had left me to go fuck Cory.  "He couldn't fall asleep while I brought you in here and warmed up for him.  No, not even with the Sominex I laced his beer with.  He didn't even wait for his fucking underwear!"

Cory had left.  Whatever length of time it had taken for Ben to have me strip him and rim him, and then for Ben to whip me with his belt, it had been too long.  Cory had only been into the scene at all because he was young and horny and full of cum.  Having shot one load down my throat and another up my ass, and with Ben's hypnotic, persuasive dominance down the hall and in the bedroom, Cory's reluctance had won out.  He'd gotten dressed, without his underwear, which jutted up as a gag between my lips, and left.  Ben had lost.  I could have laughed, except that my ass burned outside from the beating and inside from Cory's dry fuck.  And that my face was covered in cum, some of Cory's that Ben had fingered from my ass, most that I'd shot on myself.  And that I was tied down to the bed, my hole exposed and helpless, now the only available ass for this 9", beer can thick cock.

As Ben continued to walk towards me, giving voice to his disbelief at having been beaten by the blond boy, I looked at his hard, bobbing cock with trepidation.  He caught my gaze and his lips curled into a smirk.  He climbed onto the bed, moving into position around my folded and displayed body.  My hole was stretched a bit from being fucked by Cory and the fingering Ben had given it a few minutes before, but it was still sore.  I'd never taken anything the size of Ben's monster cock, neither in length nor girth, and he acknowledged the worry painted on my face with his cool grin.

"Yeah, I know they don't come as big as this often, but a cunt like you won't take long to love it.  Just think, since you let your boyfriend run off, you get this all to yourself.  You know you want it, don't you?  You wanted it ever since you checked me out at the pool hall.  And now you're going to get it."  He held the tip to the entrance to my ass.  Only Cory's cum, still slightly smeared on the sphincter, was going to ease the way for this invasion.  He rubbed the tip over my hole and along my crack about an inch up and down, teasing me, keeping me off-balance mentally as I tried to prepare for the onslaught.  I lifted my head to the extent that I could to watch his hand and his cock as he slid it back and forth.  My hole was twitching as I tried desperately to relax, a feat that proved more difficult the more I tried to accomplish it.  After an unbearable eternity, I took my eyes away from his cock, and moved them to his eyes to read his intentions.  It was at that second that he pounced.

With a short but powerful thrust of his hips, his head popped through my ass lips.  Every muscle contracted with the shock, first the surprise, followed by the aching, cramping pain as the muscle of my ring reacted to the rude intrusion.  My eyelids clamped shut and my teeth ground against the boy's underwear still gagging me.  That my breath caught in my throat was the only thing that kept me from screaming, however futilely, into the gag.  It felt like I'd had a cue ball rammed into my ass.  As I drew in a hard, ragged breath, inhaling the smell of Cory's cum which Ben had fingered from my ass to smear on my nose, I fought to collect my wits to brace for what I expected next:  The full-force ramming of the length of his shaft.  He surprised me as he held himself at bay, only the head inside me.

As the intensity of the pain waned, I slowly opened my eyes.  I felt tears run out the corners and Ben was looking down at me stoically.  "I'm not going to ruin your ass, bitch.  I know I'm big and that no one can take it all in one blow."  He reached down and started tugging on my already abused nipples with each hand.  The ensuing pain resulted in the instinctive response to clench my muscles, including my anal ring, which shouted protests to my brain as the shots of lightning raced up my nervous system.  Ben, his black bangs slung over his forehead as he leaned over me, made no effort to disguise the pleasure he felt, both from the sensation of my ass clamping around him and from his mastery over my predicament.  The blue eyes pierced my own, laughing, mocking, as his fingers orchestrated the contractions of my ass via my nipples.  It went on for too long, however long it lasted.  When he stopped, the pain in my ass had dulled, the nerves almost numb from the tight stretch and the continuous workout he'd given them.

His first thrust reawakened them.

Even with the cum lubricant, the friction of his shaft piercing my hole felt like someone had run kerosene around the rim of my ass and set it alight.  My eyeballs nearly exploded as the seemingly endless cock plowed into my guts, and I watched Ben's eyelids flicker, flashing the whites of his eyes, which had rolled back in his head.  His face was one of sensual delight, his lower jaw slightly forward, mouth open, the corners of his lips curled up in the arrogant smirk of a man taking selfish pleasure for his cock.  The pressure in my bowels as his cock filled them was unbearable.  I had hardly noticed as he brushed rudely by my prostate, so unfamiliar with these new sensations:  the unquenchable heat of his almost-dry penetration, the gut filling mass of his cock, the girth of his rod stretching my hole wider than I'd ever have imagined.

When he hit bottom, buried 9" deep inside me, his balls pressed tight to my upturned ass, he turned his face down to me and his eyes opened.  As I watched him take in my expression, I realized I hadn't breathed.  I sucked oxygen through the musky moistness of Corey's briefs and as my chest rose, he began to crush my nipples between his fingernails.  I wailed up at him as my senses overloaded.  I felt awash with pain from ass to chest, and I was tied to the bed and helpless to resist.  "Mmm, fuck yeah, slut," Ben was saying.  "I know you've been fucked before, hell you've probably had more cock in this cunt," he ground his hips into me hard, churning my insides with his cock, as he said cunt, "than any $5 hooker.  But, when you've got a cock like I've got, every fuck feels like you're taking a cherry."

I'd only been fucked a handful of times, but he was right about the rest.  This felt much worse than the first time I'd had a guy ram my hole.  He started to pull back, even while his nails dug into my nipples and my ass muscles reflexively clutched around him.  I rocked my head back and forth against the mattress, eyes clenched tightly, as the feelings in my ass made me picture my guts being pulled out with his cock, being sucked out my hole by the vacuum his withdrawal was creating.  He stopped with only the head inside and then without warning rammed into me in one long, hard thrust.  It knocked the wind out of me.  At least the slime Corey had pumped into me when he came had coated Ben's cock and the friction was gone.  What was left was the cramping as my ring dealt with the tortuous circumference of the cock stretching it open and the biting of his fingers into my pecs.  And the sheer volume of him inside me.

I felt him hit my prostate on this thrust.  He rammed by it quickly, but the pain had lessened and the sensation wasn't as drowned out.  When he hit it, my cock jumped and I flinched, and Ben knew.  "Yeah, you fucking faggot whore!  Get into it!  Take my fucking log!"  He pulled back and rammed in again, watching my reaction a second time.  "You know you wanted this cock!  Now take it you bitch!"  Blood was pumping into my cock.  I could feel it pulsing, growing longer, thicker, and harder with each pulse.  Ben pulled his cock back again and I could have sworn my ring was so tight I felt it lock in the rim behind his head.  His hands left my chest and the thumb and forefinger of one pinched the tip of my erection.  The sharp pressure forced me to buck my hips as I wriggled to get free.  The result was that I thrust my hips up and back, impaling myself on him.  He quickly released and my thighs and abs relaxed, my ass sliding off him.

I knew what was coming, and I knew I couldn't fight it.  Not with my arms and ankles tied.  He'd found a new game to play with me.  He alternated hands as he quickly pinched or flicked my cock head, each time forcing me to force myself back an inch or two, just enough to slide my ass around a bit of his shaft.  I opened my eyes to beg with them, to plead, but they found only cruel delight in his face.  He toyed with me that way for countless minutes, too fucking long anyway.  When he grew tired of it, he planted his palms down on the mattress under each of my armpits.  He then rammed himself in, not to his full depth, but just enough to hit my prostate.  He gauged my reaction to measure the length.  Once he had it, he repeated this.  Over and over.  My stretched hole yielding to him each time, my mind still foggy with the dull, aching haze, but punctuated by the pleasure of his contact with the hot spot.

He was milking the precum from my cock; I could feel it dripping onto my abs as the force of his fucking stabs rocked my body.  Even though he didn't bottom out, even without his thighs smacking my ass, just the tension of my ring around his incredibly thick cock moved me up and down on the mattress like a doll.  He was staring at my face, watching the lust build, watching me get closer and closer to an orgasm.  He'd spanked me earlier and made me cum.  He knew my signs.  Just like how he'd watched me all evening in the pool hall, he could read me, and he read me now to gauge his effect on me.  He leaned in low, his bangs brushing my ear, and I heard him whisper.

"You ever cum while a guy fucked you, slut?  You know what that does to your hole?  You know how that feels on a man's cock while he rams it in and out, in and out, of your sore cunt?  It feels real good.  But how does it feel for the bitch?  Huh?  To have that hole clamping hard, hard down on the rod plowing his guts.  His spunk shooting out through the tip of his dick like lightning, that man tool pounding his love nut?  Does it feel good?  Or does it hurt?  Huh?  You're gonna find out, my little faggot.  You're gonna find out any second now, aren't you?  You'd better hope you cum off good enough to get me off, because you know I'm not going to stop reaming you out until I shoot.  Ever been fucked after your orgasm?  Even with a little cock?  Bet it feels like a razor blade enema, doesn't it?  All those hormones ebbing, washing away from your cock crazed body, but that fucking flesh is unrelenting grinding into you, out of you.  Imagine how it's gonna feel with my big meat!"

The talk and the repetition of his stroke did it.  I knew what I was doing, but I couldn't stop it.  He was touching something deep inside me, both with his cock and with his words.  I knew I was going to cum.  I could feel my balls drawing up.  I could feel my bruised prostate twitch with each pass.    I begged for him to stop but my voice was incoherent through that bunched up cotton.  I clamped my eyes as tightly shut as I could, and I felt my breath catch, and I felt every muscle harden.  I fought to keep my load inside.  I clenched my lower body, even my abused ass, trying to keep from cumming.  It was futile.  The feeling of the drying cum on my face, the smell of Corey's load and my ass under my nose, the fullness inside me, the dull throbbing of my nipples from his torture of them, the pulsing burn of my seemingly shredded hole.  The unyielding leather binding my arms and ankles.  And then, the volcanic eruption of my cum.

It shot over my head, leaving a trail through my hair and over my face.  Volleys of it.  As the power tapered off, it left ropes of white cream down my neck and chest, dribbling pools into my trimmed pubes.  Ben was as good as his word.  He never stopped.  He never even slowed, even as my ass locked around him.  I didn't know how many shots I fired, how long the orgasm had lasted, how many thrusts he'd forced into me with sheer manpower and determination.  All I knew is that, when it was over, when the endorphins began to fade, the pain was there.  Exactly as he said.  Like razor blades.  Like a baseball ball alternately filled then emptied my ass.  I screamed.  He laughed over me.  He withdrew completely, and I felt the comparatively cool air brushing my hole.  I felt like I could feel the breeze over my appendix, that my opening had permanently dilated to the size of my wrist.  When he pumped back into me in one long, smooth stroke, I knew that my hole wasn't ruined.  I could feel every burning millimeter of those 9" inches as it passed into me.

This was his new technique:  all the way out.  All the way in.  His face was directly over mine.  He was staring down at me, although I kept my eyes closed for the most part.  When I opened them to make sure I hadn't descended into some ring of Hell beyond Dante's, there were those ice blue eyes.  At last, I could see the sheen of sweet on his face.  I looked down his chest to see it covered in beads.  I prayed he was close, that it would soon be over.  I grimaced and began to work my ass ring, despite the protests shouting up my nerves to my brain.  I think it caught him off-guard, that I would work to get him off.  Maybe that I was still even conscious, but especially that I would tighten it up for him.  For a split second, surprise crossed his brow, an instant of loss of control of the situation.  And then he gave in.  He held the head of his cock as deep inside me as he could, the deepest any man had ever been, and I felt a ripple begin at the root and move up the entire length, the entire length inside me, and into the tip of his cock.  I could feel his cum pumping into me.  Wave after wave of it.  His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his face working as he poured himself into through his cock.  He wasn't breathing.  At last, he sucked in air, threw his head back and yelled.  "FUCK!  FUCK YES!"

He collapsed on top of me, just as Corey had done in the living room.  I lay there, desperate to be free, to get out from under him, to escape, as Corey had, before he could do something more to me.  I wondered whether I could stand.  I wonder whether I'd ever be able to walk again.  I wanted him off me, and I wanted my arms and legs untied.  But I didn't dare to grunt or moan or whine, and I didn't dare to writhe under him to get his attention.  He lay on top of me limply, unmoving.  Only his breath indicated he was still alive.  The prospect of him dying there, like the proverbial dirty old man on his mistress having a heart attack, and my being left here under him, tied to the bed, flashed through my brain for an instant.

And then, when he moved, I wished he hadn't.  He slid his hips back and his cock began to move.  He was pulling out.  I groaned at the sensation, half glad to have it out of me and half sorry that I was conscious to feel it.  When the tip pulled free, I felt cum burble up after it like my ass was an artisan well.  It ran down my crack to the small of my back and from there onto the bed.  He stood, went to the table at one side of the bed and opened a drawer.  He produced a pocket knife, and he extracted the blade as he walked to the foot of the bed.  "I know you just loved that, didn't you?"  I shook my head no.  "Yeah," he chuckled, "you'll deny it.  But we both know that you got off with this inside you."  He took his limp cock in his hand and wagged it at me.  He sliced through the leather binding my ankles, and my thighs shrieked as I lowered my legs to the bed.  The muscles were tight and sore.  I could feel the chafing around my ankles.  Then, he freed my hands.  I immediately moved them in front of me and began to rub my wrists.  Ben was in no mood for me to console myself.

"Get the fuck up!  You're leaking my sperm out onto my friend's bed!"  I leapt up and wobbled on my exhausted legs.  I could feel cum spilling out down the insides of my thighs.  My ass was too tired to hold it inside, and I didn't want to waste the conscious effort or endure the pain to control my hole.  I raised my hands to Corey's underwear but stopped as Ben raised his arm, preparing for a backhand.  "I told you, bitchboys don't decide when to take out their fucking gags!"  He gripped the back of my neck firmly, his eyes on the back of my legs watching the cum to make sure it didn't drip on the floor, and marched me down the hall to the living room.  He bent down by the sofa as we passed, picked up the clothes I'd left there when he'd order me to strip for Corey, and wiped between my calves and thighs with my Oxford shirt.  He swabbed up what cum he could before it made its way down to the rug, then he pushed me to the door, opened it, and threw me out.  He tossed out my clothes after me.

I stood in the hall, naked, soaked in cum inside and out, with Corey's briefs still jutting from my lips.  Gingerly, I bent to pick up my jeans and soiled shirt to dress.

Author's Note:  Please make note that my email address has changed; see the header of this story.  There is one more chapter, sort of a denouement, and perhaps more to follow as readers demand.  Oddly enough, this act with Ben was intended only to be a setup to the main storyline, which will emerge in the next chapter.  If anyone was hoping Corey would be raped in this chapter, I'm sorry, but neither my imagination nor the Nifty guidelines would accommodate my writing such a scene.  When the next chapter is up, you'll understand that a rape of Corey wouldn't fit in with the outlined plot, either.

Thanks to all who have written for this and my other stories.  I appreciate your continuing patience while my writing is postponed in favor of less enjoyable, less imaginative, and more GPA-motivated projects.