by Marc Tremaine

WARNING: If you are offended by sex between men, sex between teenaged boys, or between a man and a teenager -- some of whom may be related by blood, marriage or lust -- you definitely shouldn't be reading this story. If this type of sex is illegal, immoral or fattening in your particular state, province, country, or bedroom, stop reading now and go away. If, according to your local laws, you're under age, no fair peeking below. This story is a fantasy, and any resemblance to any particular man, teenager or penis is just your over-active imagination.

Copyright (c) 1996-1997 by Two Voices, Ltd. All rights reserved. You have the right to download this story to keep on your computer, and to print a hard copy if you preserve the title, warning and copyright notice. You do not have the right to repost this, pass it on to anyone, or use it for commercial purposes, that is, you can't try to make a buck off my work. The only thing you have my permission to do with this story (besides the obvious one) is stated above and nothing more. Get it? Got it? Good.

Flames will be ignored. Constructive comments are always welcome.

tremaine@mindspring.com

I am not a fag. I don't want anything to do with queers, the sick fucking perverts. So why do they keep following me around?

I work in a big office building, and a few days ago when I was riding in the elevator on the way up to the 60th floor...a long ride in a big crowd...I felt something sort of stroke across my ass. Well, it was crowded, so I didn't think much of it. But then it happened again. Only it wasn't just a stroking like someone accidentally touched my ass, it was the back of someone's hand! I thought maybe someone was just shifting position, but the hand stayed where it was, one knuckle pressing into the top of the crack of my ass. This made me pretty nervous, but we weren't very far up, and people were getting on and off the elevator, and I didn't want to make a scene...I don't like public scenes. A few floors later, and the hand was gone. I kind of sighed with relief.

Except a couple of floors later it was back again, only this time the palm was toward my ass, the fingers pointing down to the floor, and one finger was softly rubbing my crack, and then the hand moved down, and started groping and caressing my butt cheeks. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. The hand squeezed one cheek gently and then the other. And I could feel my dick get hard!

Of course. Some woman was turned on by me and she was just being forward! What a turnon! I could see her in my mind's eye...a really hot blonde and she had the hots for me, I could feel my dick growing hard in my pants. This was going to be a fun ride, fantasizing about what she wanted to do to me, how she wanted to use me for her pleasure. The fantasy vanished, though, when the hand moved away and I felt a body move closer to me when several people got on and the elevator got really crowded. I could already sense her hot hard nipples against my back...except that what I felt was this huge bulge at my ass...and since I had the same kind of bulge in my own front, I knew what it was. Some man's hard dick. Some fag! And I couldn't do a goddamned thing about it without humiliating myself in public.

I just stood there while this fag prick kind of squirmed against my butt. I didn't understand why my own cock wasn't getting soft and why I was having difficulty breathing, until I realized it was just the embarrassment. I quickly held my briefcase in front of me. And then it was my floor. I stepped out hurriedly, and turned to see if I could figure out who the sick pervert was who was playing with my ass, but the doors shut too quickly, and there were people shifting around, all men, so no way.

Well, at least that experience was over. Thank God.

Only it wasn't. That afternoon, my computer signaled I had email, so I logged on and the message came on the screen: "Did your dick get hard and throbbing on the way up in the elevator today?" It wasn't signed.

Fuck! The pervert knew who I was and how to get into my email account.

Somehow I managed to get through the end of the day, and there were no more messages. I stayed a little later, but finally had to ride the elevator down. The elevator was reasonably crowded with other men who had stayed late, but nothing happened on the way down.

The next morning I changed my time for coming in. I checked the elevator pretty carefully and could tell there weren't any fags in the group. I gave a sigh of relief inwardly as the elevator started to move, and then froze. Oh, shit! I swore under my breath. The hand was back again, caressing, playing with my butt cheeks, squeezing them, a finger rubbing up and down my ass crack and pressing the cloth of my pants up to my hole. My dick got immediately hard! This was fucking perverted shit and my dick was hard! Well, it was just because I hadn't been laid for a while. That was it. And jacking off wasn't really satisfying lately. So it was just general horniness. Nothing more. The elevator wasn't quite as full as yesterday, but even when a space opened up so I could have stepped forward, I stayed where I was. I didn't understand it, but the idea of that anonymous hand playing with me was a real turnon. My breathing got harder too.

I got off the elevator on my floor, guarding my raging hardon and throbbing balls with my briefcase. I deliberately didn't look back. I also could hardly concentrate on my work. I kept checking email, but nothing was there. Fucking bastard, whoever he was. Teasing me, taunting me. Well, the hell with this shit. I was gonna show him, so I picked up the phone to call my girlfriend. I was just horny since we hadn't fucked in a few days, that was all. And then my email signal came on. I slammed the phone down just as she answered and grabbed the mouse and clicked a couple of times and the message came on: "You had a hardon this morning. I KNOW you did. You liked the feel of my hand on your ass. And you know that's true, or you would have moved away when you had the chance. Tomorrow morning, I don't want you wearing any underwear."

This sick faggot queer had to be kidding. I always wore underwear. And besides, if I got a hardon, it would really be visible. I mean, I'm not the biggest stud in the world, but seven and a half pretty thick inches isn't too bad. No fucking way. This was over as of now.

But the next morning I was on the elevator feeling really strange. I'd never gone without underwear in my life. And my pants were kind of tight. And nothing happened! All the way up the goddamned building and nothing happened. I was humiliated. I was embarrassed. I was furious. A goddamn fool, that's what I was. And then just before we got to my floor, the hand stroked across my ass, feeling me up just briefly and it was gone.

My hardon was instant and worse/better than I'd ever had before. I spent most of my morning with my prick hard. I even closed the door to my office and told my secretary to hold my calls. I called my girlfriend like we had a couple of times, for a phone jackoff session. I could tell I was getting her all hot and horny by what I was saying, but I had to pretend I was hard. I wasn't. She had a great cum, or several, and I just played along like I shot everywhere. I don't think she quite believed me.

I waited all day for another email. To tell me...shit...to tell me something, anything, goddamnit! I was a wreck the whole fucking day. And still nothing happened. And then, just as I was just about ready to turn off my computer, there was another email message: "When you take lunch tomorrow, and you WILL take lunch tomorrow, tell them you may be a little late getting back. Go to that adult bookstore you pass, get tokens for the video arcade and go into the third booth. Lock the door. Don't put any coins in until you see my prick come through the hole from the next booth. I will tell you what to do next, and you WILL do it."

I was breathing so hard I could hardly stand it. The idea of being in a queer bookstore, with some stranger's rockhard prick coming through a hole got me so horny, I closed my door again. I'd never done anything with a man. Oh sure, kid stuff, but nothing with another man, feeling his prick, having him feel mine, getting my cock sucked. Shit! I had to get a load off. I dropped my pants to the floor, and began to beat my hard meat furiously, while I read and re-read the message, no, the orders on the screen. I was getting really close to cumming when there was another signal I had email. It couldn't be! No, it was just someone writing late, I needed to cum, but what if it was him? I continued stroking faster and faster but that blinking icon kept drawing my eyes to it. I couldn't help myself. I brought the message on the screen. It was real short. One word. "NO."

How the fuck....? But obediently, I put my throbbing prick back in my pants, still leaking precum and undoubtedly it was going to stain my pants, but I zipped up. Somehow I knew that my orders were not to jack off at all, not just to stop at that moment.

The next day I told my boss I had some errands to run, and I was going to take a long lunch. He said okay, but he looked at me kind of funny. Maybe it was the fact my prick was half-hard in my pants since I didn't have underwear on, and it was kind of visible. I left right away. The bookstore I was going to...no, the bookstore I had been ordered to go to, was only a few blocks away, and I was panting so hard by the time I got there it was like I'd run the damned mile in less than four minutes. It was...kind of sleazy, you know? Out in the front it was kind of garish and tasteless with all of these advertisements for gross fuck films of men doing disgusting things to each other...my breath got a little faster...the same kind of disgusting things that were going to happen to me real soon. My hands were shaking when I pulled out the wad of bills. I didn't know how much to get, so I got ten dollars. Forty fucking quarters.

I headed, shit, practically ran, back through the archway into the dim corridors, lit by ultraviolet-type fluorescent lights. I could barely see, but my eyes adjusted. One. Two. Three. There. I put my hand on the doorknob...and it was locked! Some goddamn pervert cocksucker was in my booth! Shit. I didn't know what to do. Maybe whoever was doing this to me was already in his booth, or maybe he wouldn't go in until I did. On an impulse, probably a really stupid move, I tried the handle of the door to the right of my booth, and I'd barely moved the knob when this very quiet voice says, "No." Fuck, I nearly panicked. It was his voice, I knew it, and now he'd be pissed, and, and....

So I just waited. And waited. And waited. I wanted to leave. This was just a place for filthy perverts to get their dicks sucked; only creeps and losers came to places like this. But...I waited. And my dick stayed hard in my pants. Men kept walking by but I ignored them, concentrating on the door to the third booth, and finally, finally! it turned. The fucking creep weirdo was finally getting out of my booth.

My mouth dropped open when the "creep weirdo" walked out. Christ! He was at least 6'3" tall, broad-shouldered, blond, blue-eyed, sexy smile that said he'd just cum and really good. I stood aside to let him by but not so anyone could get past me and into the booth, and then he blew my mind! He stopped, tilted my head up with one hand, bent down and kissed me! A fucking fag kissing me on the mouth! It was fucking disgusting, especially when his tongue parted my lips and opened my mouth and then began probing me, and hesitantly I responded. It was an experience like nothing I'd ever had before. By the time he stopped kissing me I was gasping and nearly sagging in his arms. Still with his lips close to mine, he said very softly, "He told me to do this." And then he was gone.

I was confused as hell, but not so confused I didn't get in the booth. I locked the door and just stood there, trembling. It was like...I guess like what I'd expected, only I hadn't expected to see this absolutely huge hole in the wall separating this one from the booth I had tried. And then I noticed there was a hole in the other wall, too. And they were big enough that if I bent down I could look through and see this guy who was tormenting me and making my life a fucking hell. I started to bend over, but once again there was that soft, incredibly sexy voice, this time saying, "Don't even think about it. Stand up." The voice filled my booth but somehow I knew no one else could hear him.

"Take off your clothes."

"Wh...what? Here?"

"Take off your clothes. Now. And don't speak again."

Shit! Piss! Fuck! My mind was raging and screaming but I was already kicking out of my loafers, and peeling my socks off, putting them carefully inside the shoes, and then I was standing barefoot, the floor...gritty and dirty and very sticky. I knew it was cum. Desperately, I looked around but there wasn't anything to hang my clothes on. I was almost whimpering, but I took my jacket off, folded it and laid it on top of my shoes. Shirt, tie, pants followed. I stood naked and trembling in the video booth, lit only by the video screen with the burned-in instructions on how to use it.

"Get down on your knees. Get your head close to the hole and open your mouth."

Again, my mind was screaming no and telling me to get up and get dressed and get away from this sick pervert. My body did as it was told. Nervously I licked my lips and then there was something very large and hard/soft brushing against my mouth. I compressed my lips despite what I had been told. I was not a cocksucker!

The voice said softly, commandingly, "You will open your mouth. And suck me. You know you want it, although you don't want to admit it. Open your mouth, boy, suck me in." A long fat cock pushed through the hole and into my gaping mouth. It was sick having another man's cock in your mouth, but somehow...this was exhilarating. There was an eager churning in my belly. I wasn't very good at it, how could I be, I wasn't a faggot, but I slurped and licked and bobbed my head and kept my teeth out of the way and sniffed the funky hot musky smell of his crotch hair as I somehow managed to take all of him down into my mouth, all the way into my throat.

He paused with his cock buried in my throat and I just knelt there, not choking, not gagging, just breathing around that warm cock filling me. I felt his hand come through the hole. He instructed me to take the small brown bottle, and to carefully take off the lid and inhale several times from the bottle, real deep, in each nostril. I did. It was incredible! I just began to fog out and moan and want to suck his cock and get all of it all of him somehow inside me. There was a timeless time of him moving his fat prick in and out, fucking my face, and then his prick withdrew.

"Stand up, turn around, back up and bend over so your ass is toward me." Nervously I did what I was told, and nearly jumped out of my skin when I suddenly felt a tongue on my asshole! He was sucking and slurping my fucking butthole! Jesus this was one sick faggot! But hey, as long as he was giving me pleasure, who cared how sick he was! Right? Right! But suddenly there was a quick, sharp pain! He had put a finger up my hole! How dare he! He didn't have the right! He...but the finger fucking me was sliding over my prostate and making me squirm and I lost my train of thought. He had me inhale from that bottle again, and somehow when he put two fingers, sloppy wet from his spit, up my hole it wasn't nearly as painful. And another inhalation from the brown bottle and then he was ramming three fingers up there and my cock was still hard and leaking a steady stream of precum.

And then there was just air flowing over my butt as the tongue went away. The voice, his voice, spoke quietly still. "Stay in this position. When you feel my cockhead against your asshole, reach behind you and guide me into your butt."

Despite the command to be silent, I couldn't help myself. "Oh, please, no, don't, I...I can't...."

"It's your choice. I will do as you wish. If you don't want this then I will go away and not bother you again."

"Yes!" my mind shouted. "Get away from me you psycho faggot cocksucking scum! Get out of my life, stop fucking with my mind!"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No...don't go."

"Finish the sentence."

I knew instantly what he wanted. "No, don't go, sir."

And then I felt it, this incredibly soft/hard rod of meat against my butthole which was sloppy wet with spit. I reached behind and guided his cock to my hole, and then he was pressing and I was pushing back against him and suddenly the head slipped past my assring and I gasped aloud in pain. He told me to inhale from the bottle again and I did so, and suddenly the fog was back and my body was relaxing and my ass muscles were relaxing, and he was sliding all that long, long piece of meat very, very slowly up my hole until he was all the way up there. I could feel his crotch hair against my butt cheeks.

"Shut your eyes. Inhale from the bottle again. Don't speak, but you may open your mouth if it seems appropriate."

I did as I was told, although I didn't understand what all the fancy talk was about and then, as I was tripping out on this stuff once more, I understood. There was a warm wide cockhead pressed against my mouth! The booth wasn't all that wide, and I was bent over with a huge dick up my butt, so my head and mouth were near the opening in the opposite wall. In a moment, I was sucking some silent stranger's dick, and my eyes were shut, and at the same time some huge stranger's massive meat was sliding in and out, in and out of my asshole.

He spoke again as the speed of his fucking picked up slightly as did the pace of the man ramming my throat. "Unlock your door."

I couldn't speak with a throat stuffed with hard dick, and with no permission anyway. But my mind could whimper about anyone being able to walk in and see me being humiliated, used, fucked at both ends at once. As if he could read my mind, he said, "If anyone wants to watch, give them a good show. Only you don't touch your own dick or cum until I tell you."

It wasn't long before the door did open and my humiliation began. There was a kind of gasp. I guess it wasn't very often that someone around here opened a booth door and saw a fairly good looking brunette with a dark tan except for the bright white of his butt getting fucked up the ass and fucked down the throat at the same time, and he's inhaling off this brown bottle every so often, and writhing and moaning and he's got this hard dick that's streaming clear precum down to the floor like a fucking leaky faucet. Somehow I knew there was more than one man, but still I kept my eyes shut, and then there was this louder gasp and suddenly I felt a warm splattering on my neck and shoulders and hair and the side of my face. That was cum! Some bastard scum faggot was jacking off on me!

But it wasn't just one. I lost count as the ass fucking and face fucking went on and on and on and I kept on inhaling from the brown bottle, and then I could feel a change in the two men, could feel their dicks getting harder and with a few short hard strokes they were each blasting loads of cum toward my belly. I swear to Christ I could feel my fucker's pole pulse the full length of his rod with every spurt of gism up my butt, and the same with the guy fucking my throat. There were a couple more cums spattering on me at the same time.

And when everyone had stopped cumming, everyone except me, the cock slid out of my mouth and throat and the cock slid out of my ass. I staggered and almost collapsed to my knees.

"Open your eyes." I did, although they felt like they should be glued shut with the cum from several dicks all over them. "Take this."

I looked at the hole. A large hard hand was holding out a pair of jockey shorts turned inside out. "Use this to wipe the cum off." I wiped my face, my chest and my back and arms as well as I could. The briefs got pretty sticky. "Now kneel on the floor, face the open door, and jack off into the briefs." I was so exhausted, so horny, so...everything...by that time that my mind had shut down. There wasn't even a whimper of protest.

I don't know if there was anyone out there watching me, or whether I'd cummed out the customers, because my eyes were shut, reliving the double fuck I'd just gone through, so it didn't take too many strokes before I was cumming and cumming and cumming into the briefs. When I stopped cumming, he told me to get up and get dressed. I looked for somewhere to set the briefs down, since he hadn't said anything, but what he said was, "Wear them."

Somehow I knew they were my size. Dazed, I did as I was told. I was very careful to get my legs through the holes and then get them up without smearing the cum. It was a strange sensation to be wearing tight sexy briefs filled with your own cum and the cum of a dozen or more strangers. There was absolute silence from the next booth. I dressed and somehow managed to get my tie on reasonably right. And then I stood there. Not knowing what I was supposed to do.

"Do you want this again?"

I knew this was a real question, a real choice. My mind was telling me, "Only a queer likes to suck cock, you fool! Only a faggot likes getting his ass reamed with another man's prick. Only a faggot gets hard dick and leaks precum because he's getting double-fucked. Only a fag gets hard because he's wearing cum-filled briefs and nobody can tell that he is. Only a really sick fag gets turned on by being ordered around." I smiled to myself. My mind was right. Only a faggot, a really "sick" faggot would enjoy all that. A fag like me.

"Yes, sir." A smile of great happiness seemed to surge outward from the next booth.

"Go back to work. You'll get instructions later."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Smiling broadly I left the booth, left the darkness of the adult bookstore, practically ran up the stairs and launched myself into the bright early afternoon sun...and entered into slavery. I had never been happier in my life.