Date: Sun, 16 Mar 2003 18:23:35 -0500 From: Ricky Frazier Subject: Brian's Visit - CH 3 I had completely lost track of time. Brian and Tim continued to talk and bullshit each other, drinking beer and doing bong hits, all the while ignoring me as I knelt tied up at their feet. For a while it seemed as though they had forgotten the fact that I was even there. Finally, I stopped even trying to get my cock to go down, knowing that after all I had been through tonight - the drugs, the smells, the new experiences - that it was not going to deflate until I was allowed to cum. Brian had successfully stopped me every time I had gotten close enough to climax and by this time I was simply a wreck. The area of the floor between my legs was covered in nasty, slimy pre-fuck and still my obscenely engorged dick oozed the slippery stuff out - even as we just relaxed and were not actively engaged in anything remotely sexual. I wondered for a moment just how much pre-cum my body could produce. The thought sent a shiver through me and my cock lurched again, spewing out a fresh batch to mingle with the puddle I'd already created. Tim would occasionally, and without warning, smear his toes in the puddle and quickly slap my cock with his slimy foot. He had learned quickly from Brian though and never did it more than once at a time, knowing that any more than that would send my bloated and overly teased cock over the edge. "Wish we had some toys, man." said Brian, breaking the silence and causing me to sheepishly look up at him, not knowing exactly what he meant. Apparently, neither did Tim. "What are you talking about?" "You know, like sex toys. I'm sure our little fag friend would love to play for us...it would be just like Christmas morning for him." They laughed, sending a new shiver of apprehension through my body and another wave of juice up the shaft of my waving cock. "Shit dude, there's a porno store a couple miles down the highway from here. We could always go get him some." "How about that Ricky? You wanna go get some toys to play with? I know you're not ready for bed yet," he teased. He was right about me not being ready to go to sleep, but dead wrong if he thought he was going to make me go to an adult bookstore with him. There was no way in hell that I wanted to do that; however, I also knew that I would have to play this very, very carefully if I wanted to get out of this situation with even a shred of dignity remaining. "I don't think I want to do that Brian." It was the first time I had spoken in a long time and my own voice sounded foreign in my ears. I cursed myself for allowing my tone to be so submissive - I should have made the point more forcefully. "Well, No way to find out except to try and I'm not going to go for you. You have to come too." They both stood up and started getting dressed. I forgot for a moment about my current circumstances and tried to stand up with them, nearly yanking my balls off in the process. I rolled over onto my side in pain as Tim grabbed him sides and doubled over laughing. Brian chuckled as he looked down at me. "I guess I'll have to take those off. Don't even think about touching yourself. If you cum I swear I'll beat the living shit outta you." At this point, I believed him. He untied my legs and balls and I struggled to get to my feet, stretching the cramps out of my legs, my cock slinging more juice as it swung back and forth. Brian threw my onionskin jogging shorts to me and told me to put them on. I did as I was told and stood there, in my own living room, hard cock leaking pre-cum into the already thin material. There was cum, already starting to dry, all over my face and my thin shorts weren't hiding anything. Brian grabbed my car keys and told me to get my wallet. I quickly obeyed and returned to the living room. They were already standing by the door. "OK, we're all set. Let's go." My stomach turned and I suddenly felt nauseous - I couldn't let this happen. "Brian..." I struggled to say. "I can't go out like this." "Why not?" he replied, as if it was perfectly natural to be going out in public wearing only a wet, tented pair of jogging shorts that already had drops of my slime emerging from the thin fabric where my stiff cock pressed urgently against it. "Well...you can see me. I mean, through the shorts. Can't I at least have a t-shirt or some shoes?" A quick and particularly vicious slap from Tim answered that question. I was scared - whether he meant it to or not, that last slap hurt. "...and he was being so well-behaved." There was more wicked laughter as the two of them walked towards my car, leaving me to close the door and join them. Once in the car, I thought I might actually be able to get my cock to go down, but Tim wasn't about to let that happen. He had put his shoes on without his socks but had brought one along for me to suck on while we drove to the bookstore. When I hesitated, he quickly tied the rank sock around my head, the sweatiest and most foul smelling part right under my nose. It felt like the most humiliating thing yet, but then I felt his middle finger flick the head of my cock hard. It reared up inside the jogging shots and belched out a river of pre-cum. Some of it actually pushed its way through the fabric forming a bead of slime on the outside of the material, while the rest slid down my shaft, gathering around my balls. He continued the flicking motions all the way to the store parking lot - by which time, I had ruined the upholstery of my back seat. I was literally sitting in a pool of my own precum. Now not only were the shorts soaked through at the head of my cock, but even the seat was wet. Tim and Brian also spent the time reminding me of all the things I had already done tonight - their feet, their cocks, their cum, and their piss. By the time we arrived the combination of humiliation and the painful urge to cum had nearly brought me to tears. When we got to the store, Tim removed the sock from my face and opened the door for me to get out. Flicking the head of my cock hard one last time, he reminded me to bring my wallet, and they started walking across the parking lot to the entrance of the store. I stood up and felt the cool night air across my nearly naked body. Staring down I saw the mess I had made of my shorts. I couldn't go in that store...I just couldn't. I froze. Brian turned around and walked back towards me. "What's the matter, faggot? Getting cold feet?" "Brian," I whispered, "I just can't go in there like this..." I was choking back the tears, trying to hold on to what little of my manhood I had left. "OK. You don't have to." I looked at him suspiciously, knowing there was a catch. "You just give me your wallet and I'll go inside and buy the toys for you. You can just sit in the car." Over his shoulder, I saw a group of three guys about our age come out of the bookstore, apparently with rented videos. "Thanks, Brian...I appreciate that." I handed him my wallet and started to get into the car, trying to sit back down before the other guys got close enough to us for them to see me. Brian, with reflexes so quick you would never have guess how much weed he'd smoked tonight, grabbed my shoulder and spun me back around to face him. "Oh no. In return for my generous offer, you will sit in the car naked until we get back. Hand me the shorts." I stared at him dumbstruck, the fear evident in my eyes. The three others were already within earshot. I didn't move. Instead of slapping me, he leaned forward and gently whispered in my ear, "Remember the pictures...remember the video...give me the shorts...NOW!" Realizing that being naked and hard in the middle of the night, even if strangers could see, was better than my colleagues and family seeing those pictures, I quickly lowered the shorts and kicked them off my feet. I tried to move towards the car, but Brian anticipated the move and shut the door before me. Grabbing at the handle, my bare ass in plain view, I struggled to open the door to no avail. Looking back at Brian, I once again saw his evil smirk as he dangled my own car keys in my face. Mortified, I also saw that Tim had stopped the three guys I had seen earlier and was pointing out my predicament to them. The sound of new male voices laughing at me almost snapped me out of my haze...almost. "Shit man", screamed one of the new guys, "the frats must be at it again." "Not at all, Brad" interrupted Brian, yelling over his shoulder to the new guys. He knew them! The son of a bitch knew them! "This is just my old college roommate. He's showing us some of the new hobbies he's developed since we use to live together." I stood with my back to them, shivering from both cold and fear, not wanting to turn around, but somehow knowing that's exactly what I would be doing soon. "Ricky, be polite and turn around to meet my friends." I knew better than to resist - I was naked, I was high, and I was hard, as well as several miles from my house without my keys. I slowly turned around, my hard, drippy cock facing them before the rest of me. "That's it. Ricky, this is Brad, Kevin, and Phillip." I slowly raised my eyes to meet theirs - all I saw was contempt and amazement. "Goddamn, Brian! What's going on here?" asked the one called Kevin, a tall, thin guy with scraggly facial hair. "Ricky here had just finished blowing me and Tim and - well hell, even licked up Tim's foot sweat when he surprised us by asking if we could go buy some toys for him to play with tonight. Well, he went all out for our blowjobs, so we thought we would drive him down here and help him out." Last time I had disagreed with Brian's recounting of events, I had gotten hit rather hard - I didn't even bother this time. I simply lowered my eyes. I stood there staring at my still bloated cock, waving in the cool night, dripping my pre-slop all over my feet. "It's true, man," offered Tim. "Faggot licked all over my feet, putting them in his mouth and sucking my toes, almost blowing his fag spooge all over the fucking place. He's hot for it. Thought I would tag along and see what else he wants to do tonight." The one called Phillip walked over to me and stared at my cock. "Why the fuck is he so hard?" "Bastard can't get enough, dude" answered Brian. "He has been like that for hours now. I should really go in and get him the toys he asked for." "You're not gonna let him pick them out?" "I made him a deal with him that I would go inside for him as long as he stayed out here naked until I got back." The three new tormentors shook their heads and laughed in disbelief - that any guy would let himself be used like this was apparently beyond their ability to comprehend. I wanted to explain, but knew I'd only get in trouble and, quite frankly, Brian's account of tonight's events fit the evidence before their eyes far better than my version would. "We'll watch him for you if you want to go inside and get his stuff. I mean, this is a rough neighborhood - wouldn't want anything to happen to him." Even though I was high, I was aware enough to recognize feigned concern when I heard it. "Thanks, man - Tim, let's go." The two of them started to walk away and I looked up in fear. They were going to leave me out here - naked in the parking lot of an adult bookstore - with a group I guys I didn't know! Brad, Kevin, and Phillip formed a semi-circle around me. I'm sure that their intent was that I not run away, but actually I was glad for the cover - the car behind me and the three guys in front kept too many other people from seeing me. When Phillip spoke, his words dragged me from my haze and I tried to focus on them. He was reaching for my balls. "Damn, dude - this looks almost painful," he said as he grabbed at my nuts and pulled them away from my body - gently at first but with increasing pressure. He rolled the swollen balls between his fingers, separating them in the sack. "What's that all over your face, man?" Shit! I had already forgotten that I still had both Brian's and Tim's cum all over my face. "It's from Brian and Tim. They already told you that I gave them blowjobs." I was immediately sorry for my attitude. "Don't you get fucking arrogant with me, dude. Fuck! I'd never admit to having cum on my face - even if it were the truth! I would say that they spit on me, or that they raped me, or something. I'd be begging to be rescued from those two perverts while they were gone. Is that it? Did they rape you?" Here was my chance. Maybe I could get help. If it backfired on me though the consequences could be severe. "No. They didn't rape me. I didn't mean for it to happen like this, but they didn't rape me." He yanked down hard on my balls in their sac and my cock performed its ritual dance and throbbed up and down, dripping more precum from the swollen slit. A large glob landed on his wrist. "What the fuck! Don't you lose your faggot load on me!" He raised his wrist to my mouth. "Lick it off!" What choice did I have? I opened my dry mouth and stuck out my tongue, licking my own pre-nut off his wrist. "Actually, I think we'd be safer if we made him turn around." suggested Kevin. "That way if he loses his nut, he'll shoot on his car instead of on one of us." The others agreed and I felt hands turning me around. My hard cock slapped the cold window of the right rear passenger door, leaving a trail of nasty, not-quite-clear pre-cum all over the glass. "Shit - I don't think I've ever been that turned on before," whispered Brad. I could feel their eyes on my body, looking me up and down with contempt. A new wave of fear ran through me as I realized that I could no longer see what they were doing. "What kind of toys are your buddies in there buying for you, faggot?" "I'm not sure." It was the truth. "Brian said you asked him to come here. You must know what it is you wanted...unless you are calling Brian a liar." I knew I was being set up. If I said that Brian was lying, they would surely tell him and I was afraid of making him mad again. I improvised. "No, I just mean that I know he will pick out something I like." The statement left a bad taste in my mouth. "You must trust him a lot, faggot, to let him pick out toys for you...not to mention showing your stuff off like this. And all this shit about you licking Tim's feet? Did you really do all that stuff?" "Yes sir." I'm not sure where the word "sir" came from. These guys were certainly no older than I was...but somehow it seemed the right thing to say. I was mistaken and I knew it as soon as I heard their laughter. "Shit, guys, did you hear that? Fucker called Brad 'SIR'!" "Hey, faggot, has Brian or Tim had a crack at your ass yet? Looks pretty ready to go if you ask me." A shudder ran through my cock at those words. The thought honestly hadn't crossed my drugged out mind. What if Brian or maybe even Tim was planning on taking this even further! What if they intended to do THAT to me! Up until just then I thought Brian was simply getting off on humiliating me - maybe enjoying a hummer or two. I took too long answering them and felt a hard smack across my ass. The smack pushed my dilated cock against the window again, smearing even more of my juice over the glass. "Answer me now, pussy!" "No. They haven't done that to me!" "Yeah, but I bet you'd let them..." he shot back, his voice sounding almost disappointed. "I mean, anybody low enough to suck feet and let two guys empty their nuts all over your face would take it up the ass." They continued the lewd comments for a few more minutes, occasionally punctuating one with a slap across my ass before I heard Brian and Tim approaching. My newest captors walked away, leaving me exposed, looking in the bag Brian was holding. I heard a new round of chilling laughter as Brad, Kevin, and Phillip looked at the merchandise Brian had purchased for me. Tim finally broke in through the laughter and made an offer. "Brian, I may be out of place for mentioning this and if you don't want to share, I'll understand - but maybe these guys would like to see the show Ricky was going to put on for us tonight. We got plenty of weed and beer back at the fag's house. I say we make it a party!" "Fuck yeah! Good idea, buddy. What do you say, guys? I know it's getting kinda late, but Ricky wouldn't mind if you guys just crashed at his place tonight. Want to see what our boy here can do? We can watch the movies you rented, relax, smoke some weed, and let Ricky here play to his hearts content. I'm sure he wouldn't mind - would you, Ricky?" What could I say? "No Sir - they can come over if you want them to." I heard some more laughing and a high-five or two and suddenly the door was being opened for me. I was thrust roughly into the back seat and once secured again with the sock, as Brian and Tim got into the front. We waited a few seconds for the others to get to their car, apparently so they could follow us back to my house. What the hell had happened...what was going on tonight? Brian only spoke to me once on the drive back to my house, and that was only to tell me that I had better not embarrass him in front of the other guys. He warned that if I didn't play along that there would be hell to pay and reminded me of those damn pictures once more. He really didn't need to though - my cock had totally taken control of me now. Even though I wasn't really sure I wanted to do just anything Brian could come up with, I knew for sure that I needed to cum and that pleasing him was the only way that I was going to be able to accomplish that tonight. We pulled up to the house and Brian got out to open the door as Tim led me inside with his foul sock still tied around my head. I heard the doors slam on the other car as Brad, Kevin, and Phillip made their way inside. I was directed to the floor in the middle of the room where I had sat captive before, my puddle of precum still not quite dry. I knew I would be adding more to it soon. The guys took up various seats around my living room as Brian ran to the kitchen and returned with a six-pack of beer. He handed them out, even giving one to me after roughly removing Tim's sock from my mouth. I actually appreciated the drink, as my mouth and throat were bone dry from the XTC he had given me earlier. I didn't notice at the time that mine was already open. "Ricky, you can relax for a while. Remember, this is a party. You don't have to sit in that uncomfortable position" said Brian, after handing me my drink. "There he goes again with that 'I'm your friend - I'm your enemy - I'm your friend again' routine", I thought to myself. He was becoming more unpredictable with every passing hour. I got up and off my knees, which were beginning to hurt, and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the sofa, my balls resting in the puddle of pre-cum I had spewed out earlier in the night. "Thanks, Brian." I managed to say between sips off the beer. "Just don't fucking touch your cock. You remember the rules, right?" "Yes, I remember. I won't do it." I was actually so thankful to be comfortable once again that I didn't care how embarrassed I was to be sitting naked in my own living room in front of five other guys, while being told what I could and could not do. Tim grabbed the bong and the bag of weed and proceeded to pack a nice bowl while the guys bull-shitted about various things, acting oddly oblivious to my condition. We all sat in my living room for at least an hour, getting higher and drunker every minute. I didn't speak unless spoken too - that wasn't a rule, but I guess I was trying to hide in a way. I mean from the way they were ignoring me, when I wasn't speaking I didn't feel quite as embarrassed and humiliated. I tried to forget about the throbbing in my cock, but it was like the proverbial elephant in the room - something everyone noticed, but no one talked about - and my iron spike of a cock just wouldn't go away. As I sat there on the floor, it gave me a chance to look over the new guys more carefully. Brad was the most clean-cut looking of the group. He was blonde and well shaven, even for this time of day. He looked like one of those guys lucky enough not to have to shave every damn day. He stood up once while we were all sitting there talking, and I noticed that he was about my height and build. He was wearing a t-shirt and khaki shorts with some Nike cross-trainers on his feet. He wasn't wearing socks. His legs were covered in thick but short blonde hairs that looked soft to the touch. Kevin looked a little rougher than the other two - actually, he looked a little bit like Tim. With dark hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, the features of his face looked hardened, almost mean. He kept a rather serious expression on his face the entire time we sat in the living room; glaring viciously at me occasionally - as if he were sizing me up. He was probably wondering how much of Brian's story was true - did I really want to do all these things, or was I being taken advantage of? I got the impression that he really didn't care. Of the three, he definitely appeared the most ominous. He wore only a tank top and some blue sweat pants that had been hand cut-off at the knee. His feet were covered with a pair of black Converse All-Star high tops, obviously worn from years of use. He sat with one arm over the back of my couch and I could clearly see the mass of thick hair sprouting from his armpits, matted down from his pit-sweat. As I looked him over, he reached for his second hit off the bong, and I thought to myself that he must not be wearing underwear. The outline of his cock and balls was clearly visible through the material of the sweat pants. My own cock lurched and begged me to touch it as it belched out fresh batch of pre-fuck. I berated myself for looking and felt humiliated that I was getting more turned on, waiting for Brian to noticed my new wetness. He grinned at me when he saw it but said nothing. Phillip was the first one of us to actually show the effects of the weed and alcohol, as he spilled his second beer all over himself and my couch. He jumped up and staggered around for a moment as we all (myself included) laughed at his drunken state. For a brief moment, I forgot how uneasy I felt - it was like being at one of our old college parties. Brian spoke to him. "Dude, get outta those wet clothes. I mean Ricky is being pretty kind to let us party here tonight. You shouldn't be sitting on his good couch in wet jeans." I barely made out Brian giving me a quick wink. Only Tim and I noticed. "I guess you're right man." Phillip sat his mostly empty beer down on an end table and pulled his shirt over his head, stretching as he did so. My nuts tightened in their sac, actually clearing the hard wooden floor for a second when I saw the chest on this guy. Phillip was a redhead, but his chest was smooth and firm - without a stray hair or freckle to be seen. His chest was at least as well developed as Brian's, possibly more so. He had only been wearing a pair of ragged shower shoes and he casually kicked those off in my direction as he fumbled with the button on his jeans. The others laughed as he staggered around, trying to pull them off - nearly falling down in the process, but I just sat there mesmerized. He lowered them off over a pair of white jockey underwear that were stained in several places. They were even torn on the right side just underneath the waistband and since they were wet, they left little to the imagination as to what they contained. Pulling the jeans off over his massive feet, he gathered them up with his t-shirt and just tossed them into the corner of the living room before sitting back down, his feet coming to rest just a few inches from me. I closed my eyes as my cock started swinging again and heard Brian and Tim snickering at my predicament. When I had regained my composure, Brad was packing a new bowl and Brian had left to get more beer. That's when I noticed a new sensation washing over my body. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was almost as if I was outside my own body, looking down at the activities going on in my living room without actually being a participant. I knew exactly what was going on but was having trouble focusing on the individual events or their meanings. I felt vaguely nauseous, but just thought I had finally drank too much. Brian's voice shook me from the stupor. "You OK, little buddy?" I struggled to find words to answer him, and squinted hard to try and sort out what had become a collection of double images in a hazy, spinning room, but I just couldn't find the words to respond to him. I nodded at him, knowing that he hated it when I did that and fought hard to speak. "I'm OK, just a little woozy." "He's not going to get sick is he? You promised us a party!" commented Kevin from his seat in the middle of the couch. "Nah, I just gave him a roofie. Sometimes when they first hit the person will feel a little nauseous - it will pass though and then our little party boy will be a lot more cooperative." From my growing haze, I made out various grins and nods from the guys, but the conversations were growing more distant. My sensory world was becoming completely disjointed. I thought for a second I would pass out, but it never happened. The room was spinning freely now and in an attempt to slow it down, I focused my eyes intently on the nearest thing to me - Phillip's enormous feet. God, those things had to be at least a size thirteen. I don't think I had ever seen such a large pair. I noticed small tufts of his red hair sprouting from each toe and I wondered if they would feel the same way in my mouth as Brian's did. I have no idea how long I stared at them, but heard laughter when I felt drool start to run out of my mouth and down my chin. I saw my own spit slide out of my mouth and land on the impossibly tight skin of my cockhead - still drooling spit of it's own out onto my floor. I wanted to touch those feet in the worst way. "Shit man, he's fucking out of it!" yelled Brad, or maybe it just seemed like he was yelling. I noticed movement and fought to stop staring at Phillip's feet. Brian grabbed my shoulders and turned me around towards the television. He had hooked the video camera up and was rewinding the tape that was still inside. "Ricky, I'm just gonna show the guys the tape we made earlier with you and Tim. That is OK, isn't it? I mean you don't mind do you?" Even though it felt like my answer took an eternity, I just grinned at him stupidly and told him to go ahead. "You're feeling pretty good now aren't you, Ricky?" I looked up as he cupped my chin in his hand and heard myself slowly moan my answer - "Fuck yes - shit, I feel so good." As the tape started, Brian walked behind me with the rest of the guys, I heard a lighter click and smelled cigarette smoke as we watched together the tape of me cleaning off Tim's nasty, crud-covered cock and taking it down my throat. My cock was screaming at me to stroke it but I just couldn't - not because of Brian's rules (actually, I was so turned on I would have risked the beating to get myself off), but because the drug had me so fucked up I could barely move. Phillip grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back until I was resting against the sofa between his legs. Looking down at his feet sent my cock crazy with lust. It was pumping wildly now with every beat of my heart, basting it's shaft and my balls with a flood of pre-cum. My pubes were matted down in a nasty mass of hair, dried pre-nut, and the fresh stuff that was literally pouring out of my dick. I was aware of very little else while the homemade porno played and if the drugs hadn't made it so damn difficult to concentrate on the same thing for more than a second at a time, I am sure I could have brought myself off just by thinking about it. I noticed movement behind me and was aware the some of the guys were stripping. I wanted to look but couldn't tear my eyes away from the images on my own television set - of Tim gagging me with his cock, long strands of white spit hanging from my mouth as he pumped me. I heard Tim speak. "Brian, this is about the place in the tape where I shoot. You'd better make sure the faggot doesn't blow." "Shit! You're right man. I nearly forgot." Brian moved down and picked up my limp body under the armpits and carried me to his chair. Spreading my legs, he sat me down on his knee and directed my unstable head back towards the television. As his knee pressed into the area between my balls and my ass, it exaggerated the pressure in my cock, causing it to swell to proportions that until then I had thought were impossible. He began to bounce me up and down on his knee - gently at first - sending my cock bouncing along with the rest of me, slinging more of my copious juices all over my living room. One large glob landed squarely in my face and I stuck out my tongue to try and gather it into my mouth. "Slut is fucking nasty!" observed Kevin as he watched my torture with more attention than I liked. I was close to a massive orgasm and everyone in the room knew it. By now, though, I knew better than to get my hopes up. Brian wanted the other guys to see me ride his knee to another violent edge while I watched myself getting hosed down with Tim's cum and I knew it was unlikely that he would allow me to get off. Just as the video showed Tim pulling out and scumming my face with his nasty nut, Brian reached around and squeezed my nuts hard. They were so wet that his fist slipped on the first attempt and I screamed out in pain. He was more careful the second time and latched on firmly, pulling them up and away from my body. Out of the depths of me, I found words to object. "FUCK! Brian, please let me cum. You promised it would only be a couple of hours. PLEASE! You know I'll do anything you want. I'll even do it after I shoot. I won't stop or disappoint you. I promise. Just please, please...for God's sake, please let me cum!!!" The other four guys were staring at me, astonished by my pleadings with Brian to let me get my nut. Slowly, their foolish expressions were replaced by wicked grins that I had seen before on both Brian and Tim - I knew then that this was far from over. Somehow, I found the strength to start swinging my arms wildly in a futile attempt to get away. I was too fucked up; however, and Brian easily restrained me, holding both of my arms behind my back with a single one of his own. I fell into whimpering as Brian continued to Bronco rock me closer and closer to the edge. "Tim," Brian said while still holding me tightly, "you and Brad go over there and get the table from the kitchen and bring in here. Put it in the middle of room." They had a difficult time retrieving it in their drunken condition, but eventually they managed to place my small kitchen table in the middle of the living room. The table wasn't large at all, but since I lived by myself and rarely had guests over, it was all I had ever needed. Brian quickly launched me forward and I landed stomach down the flat surface. He looked at the others. "Hold him down for a second." I felt four sets of hands easily restrain my nearly useless body while I vainly struggled to free myself. Brian stretched my hands forward and tied each off to the legs of the table closest to the television before moving behind me and securing my ankles to the back. The table was the perfect length to stretch me out tightly, bent at the waist at a ninety-degree angle - with my head hanging unsupported over the far end. My neglected and stubbornly hard cock had gotten caught by the edge of the table and had slipped underneath it - instead of being caught up against my stomach; it was pressed painfully down by the edge of the table and was now pointing directly at the floor, continuing to flow freely despite the sudden change in my treatment. Brian walked around to the front of the table and lifted my head with a single one of his massive hands. He was shaking his head at me; and spoke to me in slow, deliberate words - like a parent would speak to a five-year old child. "Now Ricky, you are being very ungrateful. I made a promise that I would show you and our new friends here a good time tonight and all you can think about is yourself. That is really rather selfish if you ask me - wanting to cut the party short." Kevin let out a maniacal laugh and was quickly joined by the others who were obviously waiting to find out what would happen next. "If I remember correctly you also promised to put on a little show for us with the new toys I bought for you." Shit! By this time I had forgotten all about the trip to the bookstore and whatever horrors Brian had in that little black bag of his. "What do you say, guys? Ready for Ricky's big performance?" Brian's question was answered with a chorus of rowdy comments, all ready to see the next level of my humiliation. Brian's next sentence was actually spoken to Tim, but he made certain that I was looking directly into his eyes as he said it. "Tim, get me the bag." A nerve-wracking chorus of enthusiastic comments quickly filled the room as it exploded into activity. As Tim was retrieving the bag, the other three moved over to stand near Brian. When he returned, I could now see all of them towering above me, my chin still held firmly in Brian's secure grip. All three of the new guys were obviously boned-up by this point and Phillip's worn jockey's could barely contain his excitement. Brian made some sort of gesture to Brad, who quickly grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled, not painfully, but with just enough force so that Brian could release my chin without my head falling. Brian wanted me to see this. He reached into the bag and pulled out a device that I had never seen before. It consisted of a series of black leather straps - the largest of which looked like a miniature belt - complete with a buckle. Dangling from the largest and thickest strap were two smaller ones with metal rings securely sewn into the free ends. He placed the contraption under my nose and I smelled the fresh leather. "Do you know what this is, Ricky?" Somehow, I managed to spit out my answer. "No...I've never seen anything like that before." "It's a ball stretcher, my friend. You are gonna fucking love this thing. You see, I take this big strap and buckle it around the top of your sac and it will push your nuts out away from your body. Remember the way the rope around your nuts felt like when you gave me and Tim our blowjobs earlier? Well, this will feel mostly the same. It will help keep you from blowing your dick-snot all over the place and it will keep me from having to constantly monitor you. Best of all, I bought of bunch of these..." He pulled out a number of large items that looked like the sinkers fishermen use to keep the bait under water. "I can hook these onto the smaller straps to see how much you can take. I bought ten pounds worth of them - but I'm not sure if we will use them all - at least not all at once." I was speechless as he held the devices up before my eyes. His expression indicated that he was pleased at my shock and proud of the control he had over me. "Brad, you wanna do the honors?" "Hell, no. I don't wanna touch his fag balls. He's been dripping on them all night." Phillip laughed and gave Brad a friendly punch in the shoulder. "I'll do it..." It was Kevin. Oh, God no. Not Kevin. My mind was flooded with memories of the way he had been staring at me since we arrived back at my house. He took the strap device from Brian's hand and was out of my range of sight in a flash. I felt his strong hand encircle my nuts, pulling them lower and lower in the sac. Then I felt the leather being wrapped around the upper portion. I closed my eyes and tensed up momentarily when he tightened the strap, wincing as he secured the buckle. I knew I was dripping onto the floor when he grabbed the loose, dangling straps and started yanking up and down on them gently. An involuntary moan escaped my lips. Brian smiled. "Told ya' you'd like it." "Hey Brian, how 'bout some weights" asked Kevin, still bouncing my nuts within their new home. "Well, we really should start small." He rummaged around inside the bag and pulled out two of them, reached over my back and handed them to Kevin. "Those are the smallest ones - only half a pound each - they'll do the job until he's ready for more." I felt each one as Kevin attached them to the free ends of the dangling straps. When he had finished, he gently started them swinging. Goddamn! How could I be enjoying this? The pain was relatively mild, but the humiliation was extreme. Yet here I was - bound to my own kitchen table, in my own house, by an old college roommate and four other guys I had just met tonight. I was high, horny, and cum-deprived. The swinging weights between my legs caused my over-inflated cock to belch wildly. I could almost envision the way my piss-slit must have opened up just then to allow what must have been a massive strand of pre-fuck to empty out of my cock with a splat onto the floor below. I started moaning again - only mildly aware of the five wolves circling me - intensely aware of my need to shoot. "Goddamn!" I heard Kevin cry out. "You guys gotta look at this shit!" Brad released my hair so quickly that my head simply flopped forward off the edge of the table. The others joined Kevin behind me. I opened my eyes and discovered that I could see under the table from this position - in fact, I could see everything - including what the guys had gone to get a look at. There, pointing straight down at the floor, with it's base pressed up hard against the edge of the table, was my obscene, bloated cock. It squirmed and moved almost as if it had a life of it's own, pulsing and moving with my heartbeat and in time to the internal contractions that had by now been growing in intensity for some time. I saw the bottom of my ball-sac, stretched almost as far down as the head of my inflamed cock, with two weights swinging in independent and random patterns. The most amazing thing; however, was the long and completely unbroken strand of pre-cum that ran from the glazed head all the way to the floor, where it had already formed a small puddle about an inch in diameter - and growing. The strange cock I was viewing pulsed again and I saw the strand thicken slightly with the new weight of another bead of my pre-fuck pouring out into it. The thickened portion slid down the strand to the floor, like dew sliding down a spider's web, expanding the puddle but never breaking the link to its source. "My god," I thought to myself, "I have become a complete pervert. How can I possibly be this turned on by this?" Someone jiggled my nuts slightly, just enough to watch my cock spit at the floor again without breaking the strand. "Fucking wild, man!" shouted Tim so loudly that I worried people back in town might have heard him. "Dude, Brian, you gotta get this shit on video, man!" Brian didn't have to be told twice. He picked up the camera, set it to record and focused it on my pulsing cock. He and the others spent about five minutes teasing it and watching it drip into the ever-expanding puddle growing between my bound legs. I tried to stop watching, but found that I simply could not tear my eyes away from my own captive dick. When they were ready to move on, Brian put the camera up on a tripod, left it on record, and joined the other guys who had already returned to the side of the table where I could see them. He grabbed my hair once again and lifted up my head so he could talk to me. "Don't worry little buddy - I got some other toys for you to play with too, but it's gonna be a long weekend...remember, it's Memorial Day weekend. Believe me - you'll remember it. But now that we've got you on a slow simmer, I think it's time for the rest of us to get in on your little party. I'm telling you, Ricky, your little slut show has gotten us hot as fuck. I'm sure you'd be willing to help us out with that, wouldn't you?" A new emotion - one that I had not yet felt tonight - began to overtake me...rage. I was angrier than I had ever been in my entire life. I was being used. All I had wanted was to get re-acquainted with my best friend and roommate from college over a relaxing long weekend, but his visit had now degenerated into a freakish, back-room rape. I would be goddamned before I would go willingly now - especially in front of a live video camera. Up until this point, my cooperation was based on the assumption that Brian would eventually let me cum. I knew now that he was not going to let that happen. Whether it was the drugs, the alcohol, or the rage, I forgot about the videos, I forgot about the pictures, forgot about Brian's unpredictability, and forgot about my current vulnerability. I cleared my throat to speak, inadvertently gathering up a large wad of spit in my mouth. Angered beyond words and without thinking about the consequences, I launched it right up at Brian's face! There was only a split second before my own face exploded in pain as Brian's open hand collided violently with my cheek. This was by far the most intense pain I had felt this evening. "Ungrateful fucking cunt!" he yelled into my face as he quickly wrenched my head backwards, glaring menacingly into my eyes. He lowered his face to within inches of my own, pried my mouth open with his other hand and spit directly into my mouth with such force that I felt the wad hit the back of my throat before beginning its descent into my gut. "Fucking gross!" yelled Brad as he watched the scene unfolding. Kevin was somewhat less surprised. "Yeah Brad, but the goddamn bitch deserved it. He spit first." Kevin barely moved, but from where he was standing hurled a foamy wad of his own directly at my face. His aim was good. It caught me on the bridge of the nose and continued forcefully upwards, running between my eyes, streaking across my forehead. "Fuck yes! Hey, guys, watch this," said an enthusiastic Tim, as he positioned himself above me, tilted his head forward and simply let the spit slide out of his mouth. He kept this up for several seconds, working more and more juice out of his mouth, letting it fall over my face like icing on a birthday cake. Phillip and Brad had backed up several feet and were laughing hysterically as Tim decorated my face, which was still stinging intensely from the force of Brian's blow. "Hey Brad, you think you can hit him from here?" asked Phillip. "Hell yeah!" Tim backed away to give the guys a clean shot and Brad cocked his head back and spit hard. He missed my face completely; the shot landing on my bare shoulder with an audible "splat" and sliding disgustingly down my bound arm. "Dude, you gotta hit his face, man - here do it like this..." Phillip breathed in noisily through his nose and made a loud, guttural noise from deep in his throat before launching his wad. He was dead on - the gross projectile hitting me squarely between the eyes. He and Tim exchanged drunken high fives and offered Brad another attempt. His second was more accurate than the first and I felt another glob of wetness land just underneath my lower lip, where it slid lazily down my chin and hung precariously for a few seconds before slipping off onto the floor. "Fuckin-A, man - now that's the way to do it!" Brian, who was still holding my head upright, lowered his face to within inches of mine. He was the only one of my tormentors not laughing. "You just fucked up big-time, slut! No fucking faggot pussy ever, and I mean EVER pulls that kinda shit on me. Now, I've been more than accommodating for you tonight. Letting work out your curiosity and freakish desires on me - hell, so has Tim. We let you lick our feet, you got to taste our piss, and we even let you throat our cocks until you got what all you faggots live for - cum running down your pussy throats all the way to your stomach." He clenched the back of my head tighter. "And how the fuck do you repay us?!! By spitting at me? Is that it? Up until now, I've known that part of you wanted to be our little party pussy and part of you didn't, so I've been trying to make this so that you would at least get a little pleasure out of it yourself. But you know what? I don't fucking care if you have a good time now or not. It's gonna be a long weekend, Ricky - and by the end you'll either be broken in or just plain broken. You decide how you want to play it." He turned his face towards the four other guys, who had become ominously silent as they listened to Brian's diatribe. "You guys feel like spending the whole weekend with me and Ricky?" Tim was first to answer, his enthusiasm barely contained. "I'm supposed to be delivering pizza's tomorrow, but dude, I'm calling in sick for this." He looked around at the others. Kevin, Brad, and Phillip stared at one another for only a minute before expressions of pure, demented glee washed over their faces. Kevin answered for the group. "We were headed out to the beach for the holiday, but, you know, the hotels don't offer the kinda 'services' I think we'd get here." "Yeah, and it would be a hell of a lot cheaper" added Brad. "Well then," said Brian, "it's settled then. Ricky, you're gonna get to fag out all weekend with the five of us. How's that sound?" I felt like my entire world had come crashing down around me - but even through the haze of drugs, alcohol, and the ever-rising level of hostility being directed at me, I was learning. Every time I had tried to pull back, to stop the events unfolding in my own house, I experienced pain. On the other hand, during my moments of cooperation, when I let myself give into to what I was being made to do, I was allowed to experience pleasure. I was still unwilling to admit consciously that I enjoyed any of this, but that mental struggle could wait - I could sort out these events later. At this moment, I needed to behave like a lab rat in an experiment - avoid pain, amplify pleasure. Nothing else mattered. I cleared my dry throat and spoke. "Let's just get started." The room exploded with sounds of enthusiasm that reminded me vaguely of a locker room after a big win. Tim and Brad ran to the kitchen for another round of beer while Phillip and Kevin eyed me hungrily. Brian released my head from his vice-like grip and walked slowly and deliberately over to the video camera, removing it from the tripod and attaching some cables directly to my television. He then walked over to me and flipped the switch. "Hold your goddamn head up!" I did as he commanded and was shocked at the sight that greeted my eyes. There, displayed on my own TV, was my own face. I barely recognized myself. My face was covered in large globs of thick, foamy spit and a huge, red handprint was etched on my cheek - underneath the thin, delicate lines of spittle that Tim had dribbled all over me. One particularly nasty glob was gathering weight under my chin, hanging on by a thread, waiting to join the other body fluids soiling my floor. "That answer of yours didn't sound very convincing, Ricky. I might have let it slide earlier - but that was before your little 'incident'. I think we have a right to expect a little more enthusiasm from a guy who is just about to have his dreams come true." He let the words hang there for a moment, adjusting the focus of the camera until my abused face filled the picture of my television set, while the other guys started on a new round of beer and another bowl of weed. Once he was satisfied with the picture, he spoke only one word... "Beg!" The chorus of catcalls from behind me nearly drowned out my first, weakly spoken - nearly whispered "please". "Oh, you will have to do better than that." "Yeah, come on, bitch...tell us what you want." I recognized the voice as Kevin's and assumed that it was his foot that kicked the weights pulling on my balls, setting them to swinging again - and reminding me that I was still hard. "Please," I spoke a bit louder than the first time, "I don't know what to say." "Just tell me what you want to do." "I want to cum." "No - wrong answer! You want something else", Brian corrected. "You found out some things about yourself tonight, didn't you? Earlier, out on the deck, what did you discover that you enjoyed?" My head was swimming - I felt like I was going to pass out. I tried to remember - to think clearly. "I liked looking at you naked." When I spoke, the glob of spit hanging from my chin was shaken loose and landed loudly on the floor. "What in particular did you like about that?" I though back to that moment and remembered my fascination when I first saw Brian's cock slowly swell and throb out on the deck, it's massive head trapped within the confines of his tight foreskin. "I liked watching you get hard." The guys behind me were trying to contain their laugher. The room was spinning. The smell of weed was filling the room again. The weights on my balls were set to swinging once more - harder this time. I felt my cock begin to spasm again. "What made that hot for you?" "I'd never seen an uncut guy get hard before. I was curious about it." "Oh, come on, Ricky. You were more than curious, weren't you? When you saw it start to throb and get all thick, you wanted to do something to it, didn't you? What was it that you wanted to do - that thing that you wanted to try?" I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "I wanted to touch it." "And you did." "And I did." "Dude, you got him fucking leaking all over the floor again, man!" Kevin interrupted. Even without looking, I knew he was telling the truth. "And were you right, Ricky? Did you enjoy touching it?" My cock lurched violently in anticipation of the coming confession. "Yes - I liked it." I saw my own face on the television, but felt like it was a stranger making the admission. For some reason, that thought comforted me - making me bolder. "What exactly did you like about it? Describe it for us." "I like the way your foreskin slides up and down. I thought it was hot the way it could come all the way back up to cover the head even when you were hard." "Anything else you discovered you liked?" "I liked the way you smelled." Tim started laughing so hard that he nearly choked on his beer, spitting it half way across the room. I even saw Brian break character and grin smugly from behind the video camera. "But you knew I hadn't showered today. I had been on the road getting here. Man, I was way past ripe this afternoon, but you still liked the way that I smelled?" I nodded. "You know I don't like that, Ricky. You've got a voice so use it." He was enjoying showing off his complete control of me. "Yes - I liked the way you smelled even though you were dirty." "Tell me, Ricky...did you know that a guys feet could get you hard before this afternoon?" "No, I've never really thought about it before." "But once you went down on mine you did get hard, didn't you?" "Yes." "And your cock started leaking a lot more, didn't it?" "Yes, doing that made me really wet. It might have been the pot though." "I don't think it was the pot, Ricky. Now be honest - your little cock would have started pounding if you had been stone cold sober, wouldn't it?" "I wouldn't have been doing it if I had been sober." "That's not what I asked you. Let's just pretend that you would have done it sober." Kevin swung the weights again and I winced as my cock continued to drool. "Do you think that you would have thrown a rod?" "Probably." "What was the best part about them - my feet, I mean? What did you like the most?" "The smell." Tim added more weight. "I thought so. Tim knows how much you like feet, too, doesn't he? I mean, when he got here you were all over his stinking shoes and those nasty socks of his, weren't you?" "Yes." "In fact, I think I recall you asking him if you could work on his nasty feet? Is that the way you remember it, Tim?" "That's fucking exactly how it happened. Shocked the hell outta me, man, but I thought 'What the fuck - my feet hurt'. May as well let the faggot have some fun and get a massage out of the deal." "Wait a second - I just remembered, didn't you have to stop touching Tim's feet because you thought they were about to make you shoot your fag-wad all over the place?" Tim jiggled the new, heavier weights and the camera caught my face in an expression of mixed pleasure and pain. The contractions were becoming more intense and coming more frequently now. "Yes, Brian, I had to stop or I would have cum." "Then I would have to say that you enjoyed it. Tell me, did you enjoy Tim's feet better than mine?" I thought carefully for a moment before I answered. "Yes." "Tell us why, Ricky." "They...they smelled...sweatier." "I see. Well, back to the whole point of this...you need to beg us before we are going to do anything. You've already admitted to a couple of things that you like. So why don't you start begging. Make it good now, and you might actually get something you'll enjoy." He was right of course. I had already admitted it - on video no less, with four other guys listening. I needed to get this over with. "Please, Brian. Please I wanted lick your feet again. I'll lick Tim's feet, too. Anything you want." "Not anything I want, Ricky. This has to be what YOU want." "I want it, PLEASE - God, Brian - I am BEGGING you please let me lick them. Maybe if you don't want to, Phillip would let me do his. Or Kevin. Maybe Brad. I'd do all of you, but please...Brian..." My voice became a whisper before I continued. "...I need it." I suddenly became aware of the silence that filled the room. There were no snickers, no laughing, no playful, punchy comments - only a silence that hung in the air as thick as the smoke from the bong. Brian had recorded every moment of my confession, including the humiliating culmination of my begging. He zoomed the camera in even closer on my disgusting face and made sure the focus was good before he broke the silence. "No - I don't think so - no more feet for you tonight. Maybe later this weekend, that is if we can find the time." He motioned to someone behind me, before zooming back out again. "Phillip, your up." It took only a second for Phillip to position himself in front of me, his stained jockeys tented out massively. In an awkward maneuver, he reached in the side and pulled his already pulsing cock and active nuts out of the right side of the rank underwear. It was pointing directly at my open mouth. "Hold it right there, Phil. Let me get this damn thing focused." I could no longer see the television as Phillip's massive body had completely blocked my view. What I could see; however, was his engorged and angry cock staring me right in the face. It emerged from a thick bush of unkempt red pubes and was laced from top to bottom with heated, bulging veins. The shaft tapered slightly as it neared the large, swollen head. As Brian finished adjusting the camera, Phillip gave it a hard squeeze from the base and pearl of clear liquid flowed from the open piss-slit and rolled sloppily down the shaft. "All set. Go to town, man." He slapped my face with the thick cock five times, thoroughly wetting it with the spit still on my face before it even made it into my mouth. I didn't struggle - it all seemed so pointless now. Seconds after I opened my mouth, the large, slimy head was lodged in my throat. Phillip didn't fuck my face, at least not at first. He just wanted to watch me swallow it - and to see me hold it down. Securing the back of my head with one hand, he pushed - harder and harder - never giving back an inch of the ground he was gaining, never backing off for a second, until finally I smelled the familiar scent of crotch and the scratching of pubes against my nose. He pushed in hard one last time and I gagged, causing him to pull it out quickly and slap my face hard twice before my nose was buried in his sweaty bush again. The gagging had caused my mouth to produce an unbelievable amount of mucus, which was running down both my chin and Phillip's balls as he began an earnest throat fuck. "That's the way, Phil", Brian encouraged. "That's his third blowjob tonight, man. He don't need any more practice. Just give it to him hard." "Goddamn this feels good! Fucking plowing your face, bitch." He adjusted one had around my throat and knew that he was getting off on feeling his cock pass again and again beyond the back of my mouth. "Fuck yeah! I can feel it going all the way down man. I've never had one this good before! FUCK!" As the other four encouraged and Brian filmed yet another homemade porno with me as resident bitch, Phillip arrived at the edge of no return. "Oh FUCK! FUCK! Shit...Goddamn it, fucker - you gonna pull the cum right outta my balls. Shit, get ready pussy! Here...it...comes!!!!" He held my head tightly and slammed into my face once more before becoming completely still. My throat expanded in time with his throbbing cock, which was now pumping his dick-snot deep into my throat. I wasn't fully prepared for him to begin shooting and attempted to breathe in during one of his shots, sending the cum down the wrong way and causing me to cough and gag uncontrollably. Phillip hardly cared; however, and continued to hold me roughly until his orgasm was completely finished. When he pulled out, he did so quickly and I caught a glimpse of myself on television, coughing, wheezing, and spitting up cum. "Fucking nasty, man!!! I've never seen anything like that before. Brian, you could make a fortune selling this tape!" observed Kevin. "Fucking pussy sure can take a dick though, guys" replied Phillip, who simply left his cock, still dripping the remnants of his orgasm, hanging out of the side of his filthy briefs and walked over to grab his beer. "Who the fuck is next?" "Dude, it's my turn," said Brad. "I am so ready for this." Brad had long since removed his t-shirt but was still wearing his khaki shorts and Nike cross-trainers. He quickly fumbled with the button on the shorts and let them drop to his ankles. I noticed that although his cock was not nearly as long as any of the other three I had already taken, it was thicker than any of them. It jutted out from his blonde pubes like an iron poker. His earlier quiet demeanor evaporated quickly as he wasn't interested in a deep throat fuck. He stuck his steely hard dick right up to my mouth and grabbed my hair, pulling my face up to stare into his eyes. "Listen, fuck-puppet! I got sweet spot on my dick right under the slit, you see. I want you to stick your tongue out and lick right on the spot until I shoot, you understand? I'll help you find it, but I'm not gonna do your work for you like Phillip just did. You're gonna get me off and I'm not gonna do a damn thing, you got that?" I hesitated. "Bitch didn't answer me. Kevin, give him some more weights." "God! NO!!! I'll do it Brad. Kevin, please don't...ahhhghhh" There was more wicked, hellish laughter filling the room and I could clearly see the pain on my face as Brian filmed Kevin adding even more weights to my balls and setting them to swinging between my legs. I stuck out my tongue and touched the cockhead in front of me - as close to the spot he described as I could. "A little lower, bitch...yeah right there. That's the spot, now you just keep licking and I promise you'll get a good load outta these balls tonight." I worked my tongue feverishly as the guys behind me kept the ball weights in constant motion. By this point, I actually felt as though I was having an extended orgasm. The muscles in my crotch were contracting over and over again, trying to push the cum out of body without success. It was the most pleasurable and yet the most agonizing experience I had ever felt. The cock receiving my tongue treatment was beginning to lube up itself - I could taste it begin to flow freely from Brad's slit. The spot he liked to have teased so much was directly underneath the opening where his juices poured out, so every drop that he squeezed out flowed directly onto my tongue. His cock was beginning to jump around, almost leaping away from me. It would pulse up and then land on my nose or cheek and I would have to fight to find the spot again. Once more, my view of the television had been obscured, but from the comments I was hearing, it must have been a sight. "Shit - fucker is really getting into it man!" "Goddamn, I've never seen anybody that into cock." "Guys, this one is a natural", added Brad, who had released my head and was truly letting me do all the work now. I knew better than to stop and kept up the tongue job Brad was so obviously enjoying. "OK, you are getting me close, fucker. When I shoot, I want you to just keep tonguing that same spot - don't you dare fucking stop until I pull my dick away from your mouth, got it?" I nodded my head, not breaking the rhythm of my tongue motions for a second. "Oh God, yeah, here it comes, keep doing that. Yeah just that way." The cock was bouncing around like crazy now and it took a lot of effort to keep my tongue flicking back and forth over the spot that Brad loved so much. "Yeah, fucker - I can feel it coming...get ready. Don't stop." His cock shuddered violently, and without anything to hold it steady, pulled away from my tongue and nearly pointed straight up at the ceiling. My eyes, which were no more than three inches from the leaky, wet head, saw the piss-slit open wide and throw a hot, massive explosion of cum clear over my head. I felt something searing and wet land on my ass and knew that Brad's cum must have not only cleared my head, but arced high and forcefully enough to completely clear my back as well, landing just above the crack of my ass and sliding down into the crevice. "Jesus fucking Christ!" yelled Tim. "Brian, please tell me you got that on tape!" "I think I lost the top of the arc when he shot, but his ass was in the frame when it landed." The force of that first shot caused a rebound effect and, combined with the weight of Brad's thick dick, made the cock swing back down, where my tongue once again caught it and flicked his sweet spot. It surged again and spewed the second shot right into my mouth. The third slung a wad of gooey slime up my forehead, where it ran down into my left eye, stinging like a mother-fucker. I kept my tongue working though, wringing out three more good sized shots from the cock shaking in front of me. By the time he had finished and backed away from me, my face was covered in his dick-slime. "Hell fucking YES!!!!" he screamed. "If my girl could do that, I'd never leave her apartment." He was already walking away from me, allowing me to see the thick goo deposited on my sticky face. It was the nastiest thing I'd ever seen and as I zoned out watching the strange, warped image of myself on the television, I only half heard Tim talking to Kevin. "Hey, I know I've already had a turn tonight, man...but do you mind if I go next?" "Be my guest man, I can wait." "Hold up just a minute," said Brian. "I wanna get a shot of something." He took the camera and moved out of my range of vision, but I could see what he was pointing the camera towards. He was moving towards my ass! "Tim, grab his ass cheeks and pull them apart." I was mortified as I viewed Tim spreading my ass wide and saw the huge first shot that Brad had slung over my shoulder, sliding slowly down the crack of my ass. The wad stopped momentarily, gathering in the slight depression of my hole, before its weight forced it to continue its downward journey, sliding over the leather strap confining my nuts, and then slipping off the weights that hung below. "Mother FUCK!!!" yelled Tim. "That is the nastiest thing yet, man. Hey, faggot, you got cum dripping outta your ass and you ain't even been fucked yet!" I saw a finger emerge in the picture of the television - I think it was Kevin's, but I can't be sure. It gathered up a bit of the juice still clinging to my hole and pushed its way in, taking a large, white glob of the fluid with it. He didn't push it in far, actually just up to the first joint, but the sensation set off a reaction in me that was not lost on any of the guys present. I started moaning and bucking my hips as hard as I could. I needed to feel the cum shoot out of my balls and I knew that this was my moment. Pushing back on the invading finger as far as my limited mobility would allow, I was determined to get myself off. Kevin immediately recognized what I was attempting; however, and immediately withdrew the finger, leaving me panting and huffing like a bitch in heat. Familiar laughter filled the air as Brian rewound the tape a few seconds and we all watched the brief finger fuck several times. "Please - guys, I'm doing what you want me to do. Please just let me cum!" I was nearly hysterical with lust, the muscles between my legs actually beginning to cramp from the repeated contractions. Brian was not amused with my pleadings. "Tim, go shut the faggot up." He wasted not a second before filling my mouth with his nasty uncut cock for the second time that night. He wasn't interested in finesse this time; however, as watching his buddy's use my mouth had gotten him worked up beyond anything he'd ever known. He was filling my mouth with another load of cum barely before I had built up a good rhythm, slinging another cum-meal down my aching throat. When he pulled out, a nasty string of cum and spit hung in the air, connecting his cockhead with my lips. Brian relished filming a close up of the fluids as I gasped for air. "Fucking-A!!!" was all Tim had to say after his second orgasm of the night. He shook his cock against my face, causing the cum-spit bridge to break. The nasty slime now hung in loop, dangling from my lower lip. "You're up, Kev!" When Kevin moved into position in front of me, he was still wearing his cut-off sweats. "I hear from your little 'confessional' that you like uncut cock. Is that right, faggot?" Blowing a bubble of cum and spit from my mouth so that I could speak, I replied meekly, "Yes". "Then you are gonna fucking love this one, dude." He slowly lowered the sweats, teasing my eyes and causing my cock to spew another large glob of pre-nut into the large, slippery puddle between my legs. When the waistband cleared his cock, I let out an audible gasp. His cock was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Still completely soft, it dwarfed the throbbing dick between my own legs that was causing me so much pain and pleasure. But the size was not the only feature that amazed me - his foreskin was so long that well over an inch hung limply from the end of the bulge that I knew signified his cockhead. A silvery strand of precum hung from the bunched up folds at the tip of the skin as he slid the sweats off over his feet. He then unlaced his foul canvas All-Stars and slid them off as well, placing a sweaty shoe on either side of my head, and then standing back up to simply let me drink in the sight of him. The smell of his sneakers, combined with the drugs, and the intensity of my own lust got the better of me. Brian sensed it, too, and zoomed the camera in close to my face as I prepared to let go... "I need it..." I whispered. "What did you just say to me, faggot?" I cleared my voice to speak more clearly, not caring anymore that the video camera was directed right at my face. "I need it..." I repeated. "Damn! That's what I thought you said" he answered as he very slowly slid his hand up and down the length of it, pumping out more clear fluid in the process. "I want to taste it." I couldn't believe the words that were coming from my mouth, but I didn't care anymore. I would deal with the consequences later. "You must really want it to be talking that kinda trash to me. What if I don't like my bitches to be quite as slutty as you?" "Please, Kevin, whatever you want. Just do it...I'll be anyway you want me to be, just please, let me taste it." The room went quiet and I knew that I had surprised everyone - except for maybe Brian. Fuck! I had even surprised myself. "You must really want what's gonna come outta this dick to be begging for it like that. Is that it? You wanna something to come flying outta my cock and fill your mouth up?" "YES!!!! Fuck yes. I want that...exactly that. Please, Kevin...please don't tease me anymore." The pent up emotions within me came flooding out, my pleadings all caught on tape. "Well, remember...You did beg for it." Just then, he placed his still mostly soft cock within an inch of my open and now waiting mouth...and stopped. I held still, hoping that he would put it inside me, let me suck him, let me run my tongue under his foreskin...experience the same kind of taste I had with Brian and Tim, but he just stood there, leaving me unfilled...until the first warm shot of his piss came flooding out. Brian was ecstatic. "Kevin, you're a fucking pro, dude!" The first shot of his cock spewing piss into my waiting and willing mouth caught on camera, Kevin now felt free to push the soft and still flowing cock into my mouth. I closed my mouth around it and began to swallow. He had caught me off-guard, but at that moment, I needed the cock in front of me, no matter what kind of juice he was slinging. Kevin reached down and used one hand to pinch off my nose, cutting off my air-supply. I continued to drink from his cock until the piss was coming in short spurts that he was obviously pushing out. I had managed to drink almost the entire load when he pulled out and pushed the final couple of shots into my face, Brian filming the entire scene. I was beside myself as he finished up. "Kevin, please let me suck it!!!" I begged. "Sorry, dude," he replied as he slapped my nasty, piss-yellow face with his floppy, skinned dick. "Blowjobs just aren't my thing. Don't worry though; I'll fuck you later this weekend when Brian decides it's time to. But that's all you're gonna get for now." I screamed at him like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum as he pulled his sweats back up to his waist. "No fucking way!!!! Please, Kevin, GODDAMN IT! Please let me suck it!" A hard slap to the face that sent piss, cum, and dangling spit flying off in all directions brought me back to the hard reality that I was not in control. I hung my stinging, dripping face in shame and did not speak another word that night. "Hey, Brian," interrupted Tim. "You gonna let him shoot tonight? I mean, it's starting to look kinda painful." "Hell no!" came the response I partially expected. "He'll be a lot more cooperative tomorrow if he is still all strung out." He turned off the video camera and set it on the floor near his feet. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat. Ricky's got a nice house here...make yourselves at home. Find a place to crash and get some good rest. It's gonna be an awesome weekend." The guys filed out of the room, leaving only Brian and me for a moment. "You did real well tonight, Ricky. Well, except for that little incident when you spit on me. All in all though, I think you are well on your way." He grabbed a throw pillow off of the couch and placed it underneath my sloppy face. "Now you sleep well tonight. I have a lot of things planned for you tomorrow and neither of us will enjoy them as much if you're not rested." I briefly thought to ask him if he planned to leave me on the table all night, but realized the utter stupidity of that question. Ignoring the continued throbbing in my cock and trying to remain still so as to not swing the weights attached to my balls, I lowered my face onto the pillow, listened to Brian leave the room, and closed my eyes as he cut off the lights. RickyF@triad.rr.com