Sunday morning, somewhere in high rise nowhere. Patrick awoke with a dull fuzz in his head, the light streaming in between the curtains hurting his eyes. He lay there immobile for all of the fifteen seconds it took to recollect the night before, then... Fuck. He closed his eyes again, mouth dry.

He'd stumbled home in a daze after what had happened, grabbed two cans from the fridge and downed them both double quick, ripped his top and t-shirt off then flung himself on to his single bed to lay there in silence and take stock. He could still taste it. If he closed his eyes he could still see it. More to the point, he wanted to see it. His world had turned fucking upside down. 

As his hand had wandered to his crotch he had tried to think thru a few of his usual jack-off fantasies - rubbing his slick cock between his ex's tits, going for it doggy style with that bitch from the club, feeding his cock to the one in the flats opposite cause she looked like the type who'd beg for it -  only to find them all hijacked and swept aside. He was definitely one hundred percent straight, that much he knew. This was simply one straight guy punishing another, and boy, he'd deserved it. 

There he was on his knees again in his boss's office pulling out that huge black meat, accepting the inevitable. There he was licking it for the first time; there it was sliding further and further in. His boss's voice booming in is head - 'Taste my dick... Yeeeeahhh... That's real good...' - and the man's deep groans rumbling above. He remembered looking up at his boss's muscular chest and arms, feeling the hate twist strangely into physical admiration then outright desire as he sucked at the black man's iron-hard tool. Feeling his cock grow stiff and not wanting to show it, but unable to resist in the end. 'Yeah, you're takin it all now... I'm fuckin your face son...' One straight man punishing another. The speed and the sweat. The explosions of spunk filling his mouth...

His furious climax saw him shoot a massive load up to his shoulder and across his chest. The belated release was unbelievably intense. He barely had the energy to wipe himself down with the towel from under the bed before sinking exhaustedly into sleep, trackie bottoms still on, and the faint taste of cum mixed with beer on his tongue.

Jay had gone home with a fire in his chest and a grim grin on his face. He certainly hadn't expected the whole situation to work out this way, but not wanting to turn the lad in to the police (other trouble would be sure to follow) he hadn't had much option beyond exposing him and maybe sacking him. Forcing the lad to suck his dick was a stroke of genius and far more gratifying than he'd expected. Far more. He'd felt like a complete animal and loved it, felt horny with power. Still did. He wanted that moment of triumph again.

No question of sacking him for now. He'd told the lad as he let him out that he still had a job but... 'I'll be watching you. Understand me?' The nod came and he knew it was understood. No danger of him not turning up on Monday. His dick stirred again and he set to thinking about how to engineer another confrontation. He wasn't worried about his straight credentials - this was just about making clear who was boss. Between them two, no one else. Funny to think that he'd managed to make a straight boy who clearly hated his guts get horned up by the sheer force of his dick. I'm one powerful motherfucker, he thought to himself. The following morning he trained especially hard, muscles pumped to the max. He was ready to strike. 

Monday came and Patrick hauled himself to work after a mostly sleepless night. He joked around with the others as normal but tried not to get too involved if the conversation slipped round to the manager. No chance of avoiding him though - he was around as much as usual, flirting with the girls and the occasional customer in his usual way. He occasionally glanced at Patrick and grinned knowingly. Cocky fucker. He wanted to tell them all that Mr Fucking Sexy had got his dick sucked by a bloke - bring him down a peg or two that would - but of course he couldn't say any such thing. Pointless. Dangerous, even. The radio wallpapered on - 'Got me begging you for mercy... Why won't you release me?' Patrick idled, his mind drifting. Monday became Tuesday became Wednesday.

'Not clocking off today then?'

'Eh?' Patrick started. It was six already and the shops were shutting. His work colleague smiled at him.

'We're having a few drinks at The Bull, remember - Karen's birthday.'

'Oh, yeah. I'll be right along.'

It was a fair sized crew - she was a popular girl. The lads all fancied her, though she had a regular bloke so it was strictly hands off. The manager always tried it on, of course, but everyone seemed to know it was just for laughs. The magic touch. Patrick scowled at him occasionally when his boss wasn't looking, trying not to let his gaze drop downwards as he did, and failing. The monster lurked. He chatted with his workmates about the football and got slightly hammered on vodka and red bull to keep himself perked up.


A couple of hours later people were starting to head off. By now the remaining six, Jay and Patrick included, were all sat round a large round table in a corner by the fruit machine. Patrick reached into his pocket for his phone. It wasn't there.

'Where's my fucking phone gone?' He delved into other pockets without much hope. 'Someone's nicked my fucking phone.'

'Sure you haven't left it at work?' Karen was all bright-eyed innocence.

'Well, I had it this morning. I don't remember bringing it here with me though.'

'Maybe you put it down somewhere and forgot? I'll take you back if you like...' His boss smiled.

If you like... Butterflies zipped around Patrick's stomach. Oh fuck. The others looked on expectantly. He could hardly say no - it was only round the corner.

'OK. Thanks.' A surge of fear and excitement swept through Patrick. This was so much sooner than he was expecting. But he'd not done anything wrong - he'd not taken any more money, he'd kept his mouth shut. What was his boss gonna get him for?

They left shortly after to cheery goodbyes from the remaining drinkers. It was damp and drizzling outside, grey clouds shrowding the huddled city, the light fading. Silence. Patrick had no idea what to say. He wanted to run but just kept on walking. Jay tramped on beside him jangling his keys quietly in his pocket. The nearby shopping area was deserted - a cold wind funnelled though, scattering litter.

They both went in through the side door. 'Follow me, I got something for you' instructed Jay, and led him straight to his office. He unlocked it and Patrick walked in, nervous as hell. The door was locked behind him. The light flicked on.

'Sit down.' Patrick sat in the chair, still silent. Jay sat on the edge of the desk a few metres away and pulled what seemed to be Patrick's phone out of his pocket. He put it on the desk.

'That's my fucking phone!'

'No, it ain't. That's my fucking phone. We got the same one. See.' He reached into his other pocket and pulled out the lost phone.

Patrick's throat went dry. Something was definitely up, or he'd have returned it to him earlier. Shit.

'Think you misplaced this in the gents. Lucky for you I found it, mmm? Can't trust everyone here.'

It didn't make sense to Patrick, but he couldn't remember the day clearly enough to argue otherwise. If it was true, how could he have been so dim? 

'Give it here then.' He said, reaching over. His boss held it away.

'Sure. Once you've explained a few of these texts you've sent recently.'

'That's fucking private.' Patrick was starting to get angry despite his fear and tried to stand up. Jay moved off the desk in a flash and pushed him roughly back down. He stood towering over him.

'It would be if you'd not gone and left it somewhere now, wouldn't it?'

'That's all weeks old. Written nothin about you since...' a pause '...the weekend.'

'No, I saw that. Shame about the rest tho. You're even more of a little cunt than I thought. Do you want me to read some out to remind you?'


Silence. Jay could feel the blood coursing through his veins and the tension building nicely. When he found the phone in the lad's coat pocket it was like he'd won the lottery - he knew then he'd have the little fucker wrapped around his little finger before the day was out. The desire and the fury welled up.

'Well it all comes back down to respect, yeah? Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!'  Jay cuffed Patrick round the head. The lad looked up sullenly, aware the blow was only a light one. 'You don't respect me, yeah? Thought that little lesson I taught you might have been enough, but now I'm not so sure.'

'You're a fucking queer.' Patrick tried to stand up again but was pushed down with even more force. The chair nearly toppled.

'I'm your fucking boss, and don't you forget it. If you want to get out of here in one piece I suggest you do exactly as you're told.' The black man's eyes gleamed. 'It ain't about being straight, boy. I've fucked more women than you probably ever dreamed about. And they all worshipped my dick just like you did.'

'You what? You think I enjoyed it?' Patrick knew it was a lie, but it was the only bit of pride he had left to cling to. As if his mates could hear or help him now.

'I could fucking well see yer hard on, you cheeky cunt. I'm way straighter than you, boy - no way I'll ever be sucking dick, not in a million years.'

Patrick knew he'd lost the argument, and even if he were to struggle that it would be useless. He was trying to act all offended by the accusation but in his young teenage horny mind he was already thinking about licking that hot meat and being pummelled into submission by it and the black muscle-hunk it was attached to.


'Well what?'

'Get on yer fuckin knees, boy.'

'You're a fuckin rapist.'

'You wish. Shut the fuck up.' 

Game over. Patrick slipped off the chair and on to his knees. Outwardly sulky, inwardly confused but keen - the straight voice in his head subdued for now by fear and desire. In silence, Jay undid his belt and planted his legs firmly apart, unbuttoned the top trouser button, unzipped himself and pulled his trousers a short way down. Patrick held his breath as the shape of his boss's member was revealed under the black skin tight boxers. Fuck, it was big.

Jay began unbuttoning his shirt. 'Yeah. You like the look of that, don'tcha? You respect that. Big straight black dick for you to suck. Pull it out.'

Patrick reached into the boxers' opening and brought out the monster. It was semi-hard and hung there in front of his face. He'd unwillingly fantasised a few times about this moment since last Friday and now here it was. Fuckin awful and fuckin awesome.

'Look at me' instructed Jay, tossing his shirt away. Patrick did. His dick was starting to ache with hardness but he dare not touch it. He looked up towards his boss's exposed chest. The muscled dents and curves all the way up from groin to neck. The proud and harsh expression on the man's face just visible with the light off to one side.

Jay grabbed his dick and started to hit Patrick's face with it, slapping it across each cheek again and again. He dragged it across the lad's slightly open lips too - a faint trail of precum dragging afterwards - then resumed his bashing.

'Yeaaahhh. Big black motherfuckin dick... Big straight man’s dick. Gonna beat you up with this boy, gonna beat you up.'

Patrick tried not to flinch. He wanted to show his boss he could take whatever he could give. The meaty weapon bashed him without mercy. Jay stared him out the whole time, making sure he knew his place, channelling his anger. His moistening dick was now fully hard and he could feel the energy rushing into it, ready for action. 

'Open up, son.' 

Patrick complied. Jay grabbed the lad's head with one hand and with the other guided the stiff meat into his waiting mouth.

'Ah yeaaaaahhhhh. Suck that motherfucker. Real smooth. Yeaahhhhh!'

The man's groans surrounded Patrick and black meat filled his mouth. His entire consciousness was focussed on making it slick. In, out, in, out. Fierce and mechanical. He grasped one of his boss's legs between the trousers and the boxers. Skin on muscle. He used the other hand to caress the balls - balls full of spunk that was gonna flow into him. His boss's spunk. He shivered. His stiff dick pressed against the fabric containing it. 

'Fuck yeah. Think you missed this straight boy... Well, you got it now. Fuck yeah. Suck it good.'

Patrick's small mouth strained to contain the chunky member, his green-grey eyes stared blankly ahead at the parting of the tree-trunk legs. He was well and truly fixed - no escaping this fucker. Pinned down and helpless. He sucked his best to stay alive. Jay began to pump slowly back and forth, leaning back as he did so, one hand on the desk, maintaining his grip on the lad's head. Such a fucking turn on.

'I'm fuckin your face son. Fuckin your face. Yeah. Choke on that motherfuckin dick. You fuckin asked for it.' The power flowed through him. His muscles were taut. The long smooth strokes began to increase in intensity, plunging deeper into the lad's already tender throat. Patrick struggled to breathe.

'Fuckin asked for it, you did... Big black motherfuckin dick. We're goin all the way, son, all the way. Yeeahhhhhh.' 

Patrick had all but passed out with the onslaught, the black weapon pounding him into submission. He was nearly choking and his jaw ached. He couldn't believe he was letting this happen... He was straight, his boss was straight... Fuckin crazy shit. Couldn't believe he was enjoying it either, but somehow he was. He knew deep down he deserved it. His hated boss was teaching him respect the hard way, and he was hornier than ever before as a result. He thought about the deluge of spunk to follow and his dick surged.

But Jay had another idea. He was fucking that cheeky face with undeniable satisfaction, watching the lad's eyes glaze over, small mouth stretched to the limit by the dark glistening piston ramming inside. And yet the lad seemed able to cope with it. The reawakened animal in Jay wanted to instill some real fear, wanted to hear his conquest moan with pain. Only one way to do that - he had to fuck him for real. Jay had screwed a few girls from behind before and loved the tightness of it. He knew what he was about. He was damned sure straight boy here never would have taken anything, and there was no lube but spit around to soften the blow. It was gonna be well sweet.

Jay withdrew his dick. Patrick looked up uncomprehending.


'Stand up and bend over the desk.'


'Fuckin do what I say!' Jay was nearly shouting now. His eyes drilled holes. The lad recoiled in fear and hastily got up to do as he was told. He leaned over the desk, numb with terror. He'd shied away from thinking about this possibility. This was proper queerboy stuff. How could he take that monster anywhere other than his mouth? He'd be split right open. 

'Mr Freeman, I ain't sure I can do this...'

'You gonna do it whether you think you can or you can't. Open yer legs and undo yer trousers.'

Patrick obliged. Jay yanked them down as far as they’d go and the loose boxers followed. Hard again, he noticed. Little fucker.

'And take yer coat and shirt off.' 

The boy did so and threw them in front of him. He shivered in the cool air. Somewhere in the distance a police siren started to wail. He looked to one side of the desk and noticed his pale reflection in a glass cabinet by the wall, exposed and vulnerable. He could see his boss's reflection too, taller, chunky and dangerous - he was spitting into his hand and now rubbing it into the crack before him. A finger probed at his hole. Oh god. Even that felt big. He winced as it poked inside and began to widen the ring of muscle. His mind had a momentary flashback to a porn film he'd wanked to the other day, of a big black dude taking some white bitch from behind on a sofa, remembered the undeniable excitement he'd felt as the guy slid his fat slab of meat into her. Now it was him and his boss's dick was at least as big as that guy's was. How could he possibly take that thing? This is fuckin crazy, Patrick. His stomach churned.

Jay's breathing was getting ragged with excitement.

'Mouthful of dick didn't teach you respect, straight boy... Maybe this will. You're gonna get fucked by a pro.'

The man drooled another gob of saliva on to his fingers and forced a second one in to move it around. Patrick gasped again. Fuck, this was bad. This was so bad. He couldn't believe what was about to happen. He put his forearms on the desk to steady himself and kept gazing in horrified amazement at the reflection in the glass to his right. The man was now drooling spit for himself and making the dreaded fucktool thoroughly slick. From the thighs up he was naked in all his muscular glory. His arms bulged with terrifying strength and his torso gleamed with sweat. I'm about to get fucked, thought Patrick. His body quivered with frightened expectation.

'Fuckin show-time, son. You ready?

Patrick just moaned and nodded gently - he daren't do anything else.

The fat dickhead pressed against his hole and firm hands held his upper body in place. Jay screwed it firmly around to loosen the area, enjoying the lad’s discomfort and anticipation, before beginning his push inexorably inwards. The sphincter resisted for a moment but was no match for the black monster - the head made it's way in.

'Ahhhhhhhh! Fuck. Fuck.' Patrick yelled as the shock hit him. He bit his lip to keep from yelling any more, but pained gasps still escaped. The adrenaline rush overtook him and his head swam. His darkest fantasy was coming true.

'Shut the fuck up. You're tight, son. Daddy’s gonna loosen you up real good. Push back on it now.'

Patrick cautiously did as he was told, grimacing as his hole was stretched even further. Jay let the lad lean forward and began a slow rocking movement, each time pushing that little bit further. He could see his massive manhood disappearing gradually into the surrounding white flesh with each slow thrust, the tight muscle gripping his dick like nothing he'd felt before and the lad's face contorted with effort and anguish. What a fuck. Showin him who was boss. The power surged through his masculine frame. He stopped briefly to pour on more spit, then resumed his invasion.

'Yeahhhhhh. You're getting fucked by the boss, straight boy. Respect me now, huh?' 

He pulled the lad's head back, meaty hand tugging at short dark hair, leaned forward to put his face close to the lad's ear. His sweaty chest pressed into Patrick's back, black muscle on white skin.



'Yeah what?'

'Yeah boss.' Patrick gasped the words out.

'Now you're talking. You fuckin asked for this, dintcha? Big black motherfuckin dick. You wanted it, you got it. Gonna fill you up til you're beggin me for mercy...' 

They were locked into a slow, steady rhythm now. The lad was breathing heavily and moaning with every stroke. Jay grinned and looked in the glass cabinet to see what Patrick was looking at. There they both were, his dark musclebound frame pushing his enraged member remorselessly into the young employee bent forward over his desk. Half my age, thought Jay. Fuck yeah. Who's the Daddy? He pushed all the way in at last.

'Uhhhhhhh!!' exclaimed Patrick, with equal distress and pleasure. The man-beast had taken him completely. Jay stood there a moment and raised his arms to flex his biceps in the glass like he would in the gym. He was the boss here, no question. Patrick looked on helplessly.

'Fuck yeeeeaaahhhhhhhh. Look at that. You're fuckin full of it. Fuckin full of it. We’re goin alllllll the way now, son.’

He resumed his rhythm, the full nine-inches doing their damage. Patrick could now feel the heavy balls slapping against him with every stroke, the huge length sliding right out and driving back in with terrible force. His stomach was pressed into the edge of the desk. His left hand moved to his dick and he started to pump away at himself for all he was worth as the monster dick drove into his behind. Hard, black muscles glistened in the glass. Jay's hands gripped the lad's shoulders now as he increased the speed, slamming furiously.

'Yeahhhh. Fuckin take it, straight boy. Fuckin take it... Fuck yeah.' Each word an assault in itself. Jay let the ecstasy of power carry him along.

Patrick felt the increase in intensity, his moans increased in volume likewise. His mind whirled. He stared at the glass in dim awareness that this was a life changing moment, that nothing would be the same ever again. The pain in his stretched hole had levelled to a dull glow of soreness and pleasure as he pumped away at himself. He knew he shouldn't cum.

Time stretched out in the room and in the glass. The fuck went on for what seemed like forever. The massive black weapon seemed to grow further, felt the size of a truncheon to Patrick. Jay was relishing the control one hundred percent. Yeah, he could feel the spunk coming, but he was controlling it even in the heat of his angry desire. He was gonna take his time. Make the lad suffer. Show him who was boss - that was what this was all about. One straight man fucking another to show him his place. Patrick's moans were getting louder and more insistent and Jay loved it. There was only so much the lad could take after all, and his young body was starting to shake.

'Fuckin take it. You wanted it. Daddy's givin it to yer. Fuckin take that motherfucker, you cunt.' 

Jay almost spat the words out. He gripped and pounded harder - felt the spunk getting ready to flow. There was plenty of it - he'd deliberately held back in the days since their last encounter.

'Gonna pump you full o' cum, straight boy. Full o' cum. Fuck yeah. It's comin now. You're gonna get it. Gonna get it good.'

Patrick moaned in a daze. Every sinew in his body was tensed up with the pressure of the animal on his back. He was gonna be filled with spunk again, this time right up the arse. Fuck. Fuck.

The massive black meat surged on towards its climax. Every full length thrust it made into the white teen's rear took Jay one step closer. He stared with fierce intent at his meaty weapon disappearing all the way in. Fuckin hot. So fuckin hot. His fat black dick punishing that small white arse… He was the man. He was the fuckin MAN. Yeahhh. Closer. Ever closer.

'Aaaaaaahhhh... Fuck yeah. Gonna cum. Gonna FUCKIN CUM.' 

Jay threw his head back and gave one final ferocious thrust, every muscle poised as he felt his balls contract and the connection begin. Ecstasy absolute. Patrick moaned loudly beneath him as the huge black dick lodged inside began to shoot its spunk deep. He felt the weapon pulsing as his boss unloaded his fury - shockwaves of spunk right to his very core. The intense grip on his shoulders hurt and his whole body trembled, but his eyes were aglow with amazement at what was taking place, as witnessed in the glass. One straight man punishing another – chunky black muscle hunk pushed against a smaller white figure – man against boy. His boss’s face was set hard in an angry and passionate grimace. Patrick’s looked desperate. Despite the desire burning in his nuts, he'd deliberately not cum - knew he couldn't risk it. His balls and dick both ached.

Once the flow of cum had abated, Jay very slowly pulled out, every last inch. Patrick felt empty and breathless. But his boss had one more surprise in store yet...

'Back down on yer knees, straight boy.'

Patrick turned round slowly and did as he was told, slightly confused, legs shaking as he went down. What now? What else could there possibly be? His boss towered over him, gently stroking his still huge black rod of iron.

'Daddy’s been savin it up for you, son. You're gettin it both ends tonight.'

Patrick couldn't believe it - the man still had more in him. He reached cautiously up to caress the hairy sacks dangling there, not daring to speak. His eyes took in the man's masculine chest covered in a sheen of sweat, the broad shoulders, the dangerous curves of his biceps. He felt totally dominated.

'Yeah, there's plenty left… Open yer mouth and stick out yer tongue, and watch my dick like yer life depends on it. I'm gonna fuckin cum again and you don't wanna spill any, or else...'

The man really was an animal. Patrick did as he was told yet again as the huge veiny fucktool was pumped right in front of his face. The smell was intense and rooty. The gold ring on his boss's hand glinted. Another mouthful of spunk to go with the spunk swimming up inside him. Minutes passed. Jay quietly picked up his phone from the edge of the desk and started to record what was happening on it.

'Fuckin respect me now, huh? Fuckin respect me now. You do, don'tcha son?'

Patrick, staring at the massive meat inches from his face, just nodded.

Jay laughed, grimly. 'Yeah, that's right. Now you're gonna taste my cum again, just to make sure you get the message. Stop playin with yer dick, this ain't about you gettin off. Watch this motherfucker.'

Patrick reluctantly moved his hand away. His groin ached with the unrelieved tension. His tongue felt dry. It was gonna get soaked soon - soaked in his boss's hot juice. Fuck. He gripped the chunky legs planted either side of him with both hands, his back to the leg of the desk, his vision filled with the massive black weapon.

His boss was breathing more quickly again, the fist clenched round the dark shiny weapon moving ever faster. Patrick's heartbeat sped up once more as the inevitable approached. 

'Fuck yeah… Look at that. My dick’s right in your face, straight boy. Wanna taste my cum? 

Patrick nodded again. It was true. He felt a wave of shame run through him at the admission, imagining what his mates would think. (Had no choice, he made me do it… Yeah, right…) The tip of his boss’s dick lightly brushed the tip of his tongue. He shivered.

'Yeah. You do what yer boss tells you. Any second now, son. Gonna start pumpin… straight… in… your… mouth. Keep watchin. It's comin. It’s comin. Feelin reeeeeal good now.'

Jay kept the phone in his hand steady to capture the moment. This was doubly sweet – forcing the little straight cunt to drink his cum and filming it. Fuckin good sport. The physical pleasure was just a bonus. The lad’s young face was completely transformed from the usual scowl - his eyes were wide open, his outstretched tongue ready and waiting. The giant black rod looked obscenely huge by comparison – Jay pictured it sliding remorselessly in and stretching that small mouth wide again. Fuck yeah. Who’s yer Daddy? His hand sped faster. He felt the animal inside roar and the lad’s grip tighten on his rock solid legs…

‘Gonna fuckin give it to yer son!’

He gave a deep grunt as the surge came.

‘Ugh! Here it comes… Yeeahhhhhhhhhh…’

Patrick stared with horny determination at the flared head in fuzzy close-up. The thick white cum began to stream out from it on to his dry tongue as his boss groaned with pleasure up above. It gathered and slowly flowed into his mouth. Rich, heady. His confused fantasising from the previous days morphed into reality once more and the straight voice in his head yelled empty threats, overpowered. He moved slightly closer to catch it all, as he knew he must. The taste and the smell surrounded him. Fresh spunk filled his senses. He slid his mouth back round the head of the dick that had barely ten minutes ago been fucking him and sucked softly on it. The temporarily sated weapon lay heavy on his tongue and the cum slipped away to coat the insides of his mouth. He softly sucked the remaining drops out of the massive black tool, his vision filled with his boss’s crotch. This was so real.

Then he looked up and saw the phone in his boss’s hand. His heart skipped a beat and sank like a stone. Fuck, if anyone else ever saw this… He let the massive meat slip from his mouth, but only once he was sure it was milked fully.

'Swallow it.' The man looked down coldly at him.

Patrick paused. Time stopped. The salty-sweet juice hung there, awful and awesome all over again. Then down most of it went in one large gulp to join the rest. He felt round with his tongue to collect the remainder and down that went too. He was spunked from head to tail.

Jay held his fist in front of the lad’s face – there was some cum below the knuckle nearest the thumb.

‘Lick that up.’ He instructed.

The lad did as he was told, feeling the strangeness of licking his boss somewhere other than his dick send a shiver down his spine. He knew he was being filmed now and it seemed as if he were being sucked into a dark alternative reality where he would be forced to satisfy his boss over and over again. That fist could smash me to pieces, he thought… Don’t do anything stupid now. He savoured the last of the spunk - it tasted different cold. Dirtier.

Jay pulled his fist away and smiled, finally, his victory complete. 'You enjoyed that, dintcha? Fuckin well tasty, huh?' 

Patrick stared up at him sullenly, his small mouth hanging slightly open, consumed by lust and hatred. He nodded mutely - he knew he had no choice.

Thanks for all the comments so far…