Date: Sun, 7 Jul 2013 20:27:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: jerspray@yahoo.com
Subject: My Room Over the Garage 2

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My Room Over the Garage (Part Two)


In my dream, Matt brought 3 friends with him. I am on my back lying on the
floor in front of the couch. The 3 friends are all barefoot and stomping on
me while they play Code of Silence. Their feet are uniformly huge and
sweaty. The mean looking redhead at the far end keeps a steady rhythm of
kicks to my balls. He only pauses to scratch my cock with his toenails. The
gorgeous kid in the middle alternates between slapping my abs with his
feet, pounding my gut with both feet, and these long periods of immense
pressure that hurt more than the rest of it. And at my face is the
giant. He's got to be very near 7' tall. His feet are enormous. And they
reek. He seems determined to dislocate my jaw as he focuses on getting as
much of his heel in my mouth as possible. The corners of my lips are
ripping slowly. The salty, sweaty taste never subsides. His other foot is
plastered onto my eyes like a blindfold of stinking flesh. Three teens can
cause an awful lot of pain with their feet.

I suddenly realize I am not longer asleep and the pain is not in my
dream. Bob is standing on my bed kicking me in the balls. He smiles when he
sees the terror in my eyes. I can't imagine my punishment for not waking up
when he opened the door to my room over the garage.

"Don't worry, baby. It can't get much worse than it was going to be
anyway. Spread your legs." He drops down to his knees and beckons me to sit
up. After the first elbow to my jaw he grabs the back of my neck so I don't
collapse. He alternates between kneeing me in the balls and elbow
punches. They are slow, full power blows. I can see in his face how
determined he is to make each hit land solidly. He takes great pride in his
methods of abusing me. We are staring at each other the whole time. He
stops after, I'm guessing, 6 of each. Still holding me by the back of the
neck, he presents his fist to my lips. He lets me kiss it over and over. He
opens his fist and spreads his hand. It covers my face. "Here, wait...a
special treat for my sick faggot!" He reaches his free hand down the front
of his shorts. I almost cum right there. Watching this gorgeous man, my
Master, rooting around in his junk is as sexy a thing as I have ever
seen. He slowly removes his hand and covers my face with it again. The
smells are so fucking sexy. Ball sweat, precum, piss and a hint of backdoor
musk. "Treat over!" He drops me and knees me in the balls one more time
before dragging me off the bed by my hair.

He is in front of me and we stare at each other. He is wearing the white
socks from earlier, khaki shorts and a white wife-beater. He rubs his pit
and flicks the sweat at me. He is so fucking beautiful. Not one ounce of
fat on him. Thick thighs of corded muscle. Thick wavy brown hair. Perfect
teeth. Those fucking hands of his! And his feet. Damn I love his feet. They
are size 11.5, free of hair or callous. The veins are just pronounced
enough to be manly but not gnarly. Long toes. And the best part...over
active sweat glands. He allows me to stare and reflect privately. He knows
the more I look at him the deeper my submission, my devotion and my pain
threshold. He squeezes my chin. I open to receive his spit. I thank him
with my eyes. He is now fishing his cock out.

His cock. It is almost 8" and pretty thick. It is a white alabaster column,
with a perfectly proportioned head. There are a few pronounced veins that
just make it perfect. No cock I have ever seen comes close for sheer
beauty. Matt's cock looks almost identical, it's actually a bit bigger, but
the beauty of Bob's cock is unmatched.

There is just the slightest pink tint to his naturally hairless balls. They
hang low and fat and produce the most beautiful odor in the world. The
hours I spend with my nose buried in the folds of his crotch are the best
hours of my life. After a particularly hard session or after the rare
occasion he has hit me in anger he allows me extended time with his balls
in my face.

He never misses. His piss strikes the back of my throat. He extends my chin
even lower and inserts his pissing cock. He squeezes my lips around yanks
my hair back at the same time so we continue to stare at each other.

It is amazing how much we communicate without words. I can see he is in a
great mood. I know he knows how happy I am to be before him on my knees,
receiving his pissload, bruised from the beatings from him and his son. He
tells me with his eyes that he is going to hurt me even more tonight. Hurt
me a lot.

He drops his hand from my chin and reaches down to grab my nipple. He
explores it with his fingernails. He does not go easy on it. He pulls hard
and twists. With his other hand he smack-grabs the back of my head and
holds me deep on my his cock as the piss slows to a dribble on my
tonsils. His tugging and tearing at my nipple is making both of us very
hard. His cock is expanding my throat now. The hand at the back of my head
will not let up that I know. His hard belly is pressed into my face so hard
my nose is completely smashed and pointing a direction that doesn't allow
much airflow.

He is humping my face while apparently trying to rip my nipple off my
chest. That excruciating pain is nothing compared to what he inflicts when
my involuntary survival instinct kicks in and I try to pull off his cock.

"Stick out your tongue, faggot." Of course I do. He releases my nipple and
squats down in front of me. "Pull off my cock again and this will feel like
a walk in the park, understand?" I nod my head. He grips both of my ears
and twists them as he squats down. He spits a huge hawker at the back of my
throat and quickly bites down hard on my tongue. I can't even scream it
hurts so much. Tears are instantly flowing down my face. He digs his teeth
even deeper into my tongue. Just as I am pretty sure it is blood I am
tasting he pulls off and stands up.

Each word is punctuated by a fierce slap across my face. He pulls his hand
over and behind his head between each slap. It is amazing and awful.
"DON'T" "EVER" "PULL" "AWAY" "FROM" "ME" "AGAIN" And one swift kick to my
aching balls.

His cock is throbbing. My face is throbbing. Our hearts are pounding. He
contemplates me for a long time.

"You know, faggot, I was in a good mood when I came up here. Why did you
have to go and blow it by pulling off my cock?"

"Bobby, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to. My body just couldn't take it."

"So, you telling me it's time for me to move you out of here?"

"Oh, Bobby, please, no. Please! I am so sorry, Sir. I would die with out
you. Please forgive me. You know I would choke myself out before I would
voluntarily pull off your cock, please, tell me you know that?"

He starts to laugh. "Of course, I do, baby. I am just fucking with
you. Come here. Take off my socks and get you some of what you love."

I am bawling as I crawl over to him every "step" reminds me of the cruel
way Matt bashed my leg a little while ago. The memory makes me even
harder. I immediately starting kissing Bob's beautiful steamy feet. The
stench is the hottest smell in the world. Bob only likes dry kisses on his
feet. No drool, no mess. I kiss and inhale over and over until he kicks me
in the face. "On your back, faggot. That's enough for now. I promised to
celebrate on your face tonight and it's time we get started." He lowers his
shorts and places his ass onto my face. His underwear is as tight and white
as his torso. The smell is so sexy. His asshole is always, somewhat
disappointingly clean but his sweat glands are over active everywhere and
this smell is so sexy. I love sniffing his asshole. He takes out his phone
and sends a text. Maybe he's gonna let Matt watch. As he raises up off my
face and pulls up his shorts he tell me to "get 2 long ropes and 2 short
ones and put your back against the foot of the bed." As I start to crawl
away he says, "Come back here, faggot!" I crawl back to him and look
up. "You want one?"

"Yes, Bobby, please."

"Here ya go, baby." He turns as if he was just teasing me but then suddenly
wheels around and plants a left hook to my chin.

"Thank you, Daddy!"

He chuckles, "Go get the ropes, bitch."

He obviously has this all planned out. I move as quickly as I can to do as
I am told. Before I am done, I hear the door to my room over the garage
open. My instinct is to run to my position at the bottom of the stairs but
I quickly catch myself. Bob's orders outweigh everything else in the world,
including Bob's rules. Learning that lesson left me with a swollen lip and
3 loose teeth but that's another story. Shaking from nerves and excitement,
I kneel at the foot of the bed, the ropes I have laid on the floor in front
of me.

Matt appears as he climbs the stairs.

"What's up, Pop?" They do their own handshake kind of thing. Matt is
dressed almost identically to his dad except he has flip flops on now and
his wife beater is black. I can see his cock, thick and full against the
rolled up khaki shorts. While they don't look exactly alike, the fact that
they are father and son is unmistakable. When I am looking at both of them
at the same time I am reminded that I am the luckiest fag in the world.

"Help me tie this faghole and you can watch for a bit" he says. "I want his
ankles wrapped and tied in rope individually with the long rope but first
we're gonna stretch his arms and tie them to the front posts of the bed."

They briefly talk about Ohio State football while they tie me up. They have
me stretched so tight that my arms and shoulders are completely
immobilized. Matt takes off one of his flip flops and smashes it across my
face about a dozen times.

When he is done, I know what is expected of me. "Thank you, Bob for making
Matt. I love him and everything he does to me."

Bob gently caress my cheek and says, "You're welcome, baby" and then knees
me hard in the chest.

Matt cracks up. "That reminds me. How's your leg, faggot?" Bob looks at his
son quizzically. "I gave it a beastly charlie horse a little while ago."
Bob just nods his head with a little smile of approval. "Hey, I learned
from the best!" says Matt as he finishes wrapping my ankle in the thick,
pinchy, rope. Bob is done with my other ankle.

"Ok, here's the fun part. Feed the rope under the bed and keep pulling
until it won't go any further." I pretty much trust Bob with my life every
day, but I do panic a bit. I am able to calm myself with deep
breaths. Stretched like I am, my legs and lower torso under the bed, I
guess I must look like those one of those ornaments that they have on old
ships. My back aches something fierce where the bed frame is digging into
my flesh. But I think Bob has achieved his goal and that makes me very
happy. My chest and my face are completely exposed, vulnerable and
accessible. Semi-suspended as I am the ropes are cutting into my wrists and
ankles within seconds. They have finished tying the ropes on my ankles to
the legs at the head of the bed. They step back to admire their handiwork.

My eyes are seeking out Bob's to get some reassurance that I will be
alright. He is too busy checking me out to notice.

Matt has his hands in his shorts and says "I gotta admit I get turned on
looking at his tits. Just knowing what I have done to them, that we own
them, makes me so fucking horny."

Bob says "Yeah, don't feel funny about how horny this faggot makes you. You
are definitely not queer. This faggot is ours. He loves us for what we do
to him, sure, but he also loves us because of who we are. Look at what he
is willing to do for us. That alone is enough to make anyone horny. It's
just that we are smart enough to know that beating the fuck out of a fag,
fucking it's holes, fucking it's mind and turning it into property is
fucking cool and it certainly does not make us fags. Matty, I am
straight. You have any doubt about that?" Matt just laughs and of course
says "No! You just love raging on this homo as much as I do. I remember the
first day you brought me up here. I was shaking in my boots at first but
before too long my dick was harder than it had ever been. Remember how I
came without touching myself that first time I punched him."

Bob laughs and says "So did the faggot!"

They exchange a high five. They look at me and their laughing soon subsides
and they are looking at me and the look on their faces should terrify me
but I shiver with excitement.

"Dad, I love fucking my girls but there is nothing like pounding the shit
out of someone like him; someone who wants you to hurt them, and then using
them to get your nut. I am never giving up girls but I don't ever wanna
give up this fag either."

"Don't worry. If you ever move away, I will help you find your own faggot
cocksucker cumdump punching bag. They're a dime a dozen." They both laugh
hysterically.

The ropes are burning, my arms, legs and torso are burning, I have a deep
tissue charlie horse, swollen lips and bruises all over my face and
body. And I am the happiest faggot cocksucker cumdump punching bag in the
world because as soon as he said the 'dime a dozen' thing Bob looked at me
and winked. He punches me, he kicks me, he slaps me, pisses on me and in
me, calls me vile names but he also looks out for me. Of course he noticed
that I needed his reassurance! I knew then I could endure this session and
anything else this fucking sexy sadist would be willing to do to me.

Bob is wrapping his belt around his fist. He heads towards me and tells
Matt over his shoulder, "Pull up a chair, kid, and take notes if you
wanna!"