Date: Fri, 5 Jan 2007 21:27:49 -0800 (PST) From: Scott M. Subject: Centurion City, Part 1 Disclaimer: The following story contains explicit descriptions of sex between adults. It is not intended for those under 18 years of age -- so if you're under 18, don't read it! The author also prohibits the reading of this work by closeted Republican members of Congress. Centurion City Intro Scene: The sun rises slowly over the bleak landscape, chasing down the shadows that lurk in the dirty alleyways of a concrete dystopia. Low-rise buildings with broken windows shadow the horizon, occasionally revealing a bright splash of yellow or blue paint amidst a sea of gray. This is Centurion City. Historically destitute and neglected by the rulers of its world, it's now a city-state emerging as a continental power due to its new Social Order. Centurion City, you see, is a city of men, and men only. War after war had scarred its streets, and one day the soldiers of two rival regiments had joined together in unity, captured and fortified the city, and brought in a new regime. No children are born here now -- population is sustained solely by immigration -- voluntary of not. Men arrive here from all over our world, but none leave. A resident of Centurion City is a prisoner more than a citizen. The Social Order, however, would not allow for such harsh words. Political dissent is clamped down upon with an iron fist -- or cock, more often than not -- even as rape and petty crime run rampant through the streets. The soldiers, headed by Grand General Varori, are the only authority figures, and look after themselves more than anyone else. And they make sure that Receivers like me remain in our place. Receiver. An innocent enough word, to be sure. But in Centurion City, it means everything. You're a "Giver" or a "Receiver" -- you take it up the ass, or you don't. You fuck, or you get fucked. Here, there are no in-betweens. A person is assigned a role upon first entering the city; voluntary entrants can state their preference, and those who choose to be a "Receiver" are granted this status automatically. Those who choose to be "Givers" must earn the status, usually by fucking a couple subordinate receivers or by fighting off a couple soldiers. Those who come into the city involuntary are almost always sex slaves captured from neighboring kingdoms -- they, obviously, are subordinate "Receivers". One problem keeps everything from being peachy-fucking-keen. A ratio. 4-1 to be exact. Despite the best efforts of the soldiers to screen potential givers, and the continued capture of human cargo, Givers still outnumber Receivers overwhelmingly. I blame it on subconscious heterosexuality -- a word despised by a regime that would prefer women were mythological. But still, the fact remains -- for every hot hole waiting to be plugged, there are four straining cocks bursting with cum. For receivers like myself (or at least, those of us not "owned" by some rich master), this means a hell of a lot of gangbangs. Often by soldiers. Gangbangs that are usually non-consensual, often occurring in shadowy filth-ridden alleyways in the dark of night. And that's why, on one hot and sweaty August afternoon, I was pissed. Chapter 1 "Fucking rapists!" I screamed at the group of Varorian loyalists gathered in front of us. Givers, all of them, and minions for the general. I was sitting on the baked asphalt of Valor Street, surrounded by a bunch of my comrades in the Receiver Unity Front. We were blocking the main thoroughfare, holding up commerce, and making a lot of people angry. That was the point -- to make the tops that ran this city angry, and to make them realize that we demanded equality. Only it wasn't the most comfortable situation in the world. My forehead was sweating and my head felt hot despite the close buzz-cut I had just received, and my pale skin was starting to burn in the sunlight. My cock and balls were hot and sweaty as well, but I wasn't too worried because I knew the protest would be over soon. Up ahead, a group of three Varorian soldiers were approaching, clad in uniform. They were tall, mean-looking men, and I recognized one of them from a bar I frequented. He approached me first -- I guess my position in the middle made me the leader. "Stirring up trouble again, aye boy?" he asked, glancing at me with a look of arrogant amusement. He was hot though, I'd grant him that. Tall gruff Italian guy with close-cropped black hair and a stubble-coated square jaw. He was taller than me as well; I guess most people are since I'm only 5'5". But this guy was a good 6'2", and I'd bet he'd kicked some ass in his lifetime. I wasn't scared, however. "I hope so," I responded levelly, staring up at his frame. He had his legs spread straight out and was looming just a couple of feet away. "Trouble is what this city needs. And you're going to have a lot of trouble, until..." I pointed to the massed group of Givers leering at the sidelines, "Your people stop fucking with mine." He kept on smirking, and then kneeled down in front of me so that his face was level with mine, and I could feel his breath on my skin. "Afraid we can't do that. See, your people," he pointed at the other protesters massed around me, "are meant to get fucked. That's what you're here for. And a boy like you, well, you're the fucking cutest of the bunch, and maybe if you hate getting fucked so much we should work on makin' your face a little less pretty." And with that he slowly pulled a blade out of his pocket -- a good 8-inch long, steel combat knife. I gulped, because I knew he could cut me, cut my face open, and the authorities would do nothing. "Leave him the fuck alone!" shouted the boy next to me. Falcon. Another pissed-off bottom, one with a tough body and a sharp Mohawk you could cut your hand on. He was stronger than me, if a little less intelligent. I liked him a lot, and I knew that every time I took his cock in my ass, we were giving the finger to the authorities. He liked to top, and was a damn good one, but these Varorian assholes didn't like it when guys defied their `"assigned roles". "Hmmm...let me think about that," said the soldier, resting the blade of the knife against my cheek. "I could leave him alone, but then he'd just go out causing trouble again. And there's no reason I should let that happen..." The bastard was still smirking. Falcon glared at him, trying to stare him down. "Everyone in this community loves Scotty, and if you hurt him you will have more trouble than you can possibly imagine." Scotty's my name. I was rather impressed by the show of bravado. "Well," started the soldier, growing more thoughtful. "It would be a damned shame to ruin a boy like this one. Most bottoms like you just need some discipline." With that he stood up and motioned to the two other soldiers flanking him. "I'm putting you into `protective custody' for three days...or perhaps a bit longer. As for the rest of you, I'd suggest you better disperse before the full regiment gets here." The two other guys, nearly identical looking with their shaved heads and built bods, grabbed me under the arms and lifted me up. I had some handcuffs snapped on me, and was pushed/shoved away from the assembled crowd, towards the direction of Base Camp 4 (the nearest military control center). I glanced back at Falcon, and he gave me the Clenched Fist salute with his left hand while he remained sitting on the concrete. "Solidarity! Stay strong!" I shouted back at him as the distance between us increased. "Ah, fuck it," said the lead soldier from before. I later would learn his name - Tony. "I'm doing you a favor, and you're going to be shouting the whole way to the camp. I'm sorry, but I can let you do that, you see." And with that, he had his soldiers stop and hold me in place as he produced a white cloth soaked with chemicals from his breast pocket. Rape rags, us Receivers called them. All the soldiers had them, and they could turn any angry/resistant boy into a sleeping, relaxed boy within seconds. Which I would soon find happening to me. "Don't fight it; just breathe in," was the last thing I heard as his hairy first shoved the cloth into my face and I collapsed into the arms of the men holding me. ********* I awoke sometime later to the feeling of a big, fat, uncut cock slapping against my face. That was the first thing I noticed. After that, slowly opening my eyes to harsh florescent lights, I noticed the grey concrete ceiling and walls around me. I felt the threadbare mattress underneath my skin, and realized my hands and arms were pulled upwards, tied to metal posts. I knew exactly where this was. `Aw, fuck,' was probably my first thought. In front of me a soldier straddled either side of the narrow mattress and held his cock in front of my face. He wasn't one of the ones from earlier. This guy had darker skin, `olive skin', as some say, and close-cropped black hair. His tightly muscled chest had hair as well, dark patches of short fur that straddled his pecs and went down his past his belly button to meet the pubes surrounding his cock. His cock -- well, I gotta good look at it since it was right in front of my face -- was thick and veiny, with a bulbous purple head that demanded attention. "Open," was all he said. I opened my mouth and let his cock thrust into me. Soldiers face-fuck rough, but I thought maybe if I cooperated and looked up at him with a pleading look, mouth stuffed full with his cock, he'd go easy. And of course, I was wrong. Next thing I knew the entire 8-inch pole was getting shoved down my throat, head hitting the back, until I almost wanted to gag. And being yanked out again. I opened my mouth wide to accommodate it though, savoring the sweaty soldier taste and letting my tongue brush up against his dickhead with every thrust. Eventually, when I'm getting face-fucked, a lot of saliva will build up in my mouth, and I'll end up sitting there drooling around a guys cock. And that's what happened this time. I just looked up at him submissively as he pounded his cock in and out of my throat, thrusting his hips with military efficiency. Next thing I know he pulls out, and I'm laying there like an idiot with my mouth dripping because I can't wipe it up with my hands. He stood there, stiff cock in hand, and just looked at me, smirking. It was a hot smirk though, glittering white teeth against darker skin and a handsome square jaw. The soldier walked around to the side of the bed where my feet where, and it's then that I realized my legs weren't tied down. He hopped onto the bed, getting on his knees, and promptly straddled my legs on either side of him. Next thing I knew, his hot body was pressing against mine, and I could feel the head of his dark brown cock pressing up against my tight pink hole, with only a thin coating of my saliva for lube. But instead of pushing his dick in, he leaned his body forward so that my legs were pinned and his face was right above mine. "Hey, rebel boy...you got two options here. I can either give it to you raw, which might be just a little uncomfortable for your tight ass, or I can get down there and give your hole a nice tongue bath to loosen it up a little," he said, so close I could feel his breath on my face. "But if I'm gonna spend all that time licking your hole, I want something in return. I've got to know you're worthy of being treated like a real Receiver. So...boy...just acknowledge General Varori as your master. These three days can turn out a lot better for a cute bottom boy like you."' I knew I was in for some pain, but I wasn't about to give in and look weak. I'd been through this routine before, and I could handle it. Just had to grit my teeth a little... "I pledge allegiance to no one. The General is not my master. You can fuck me however you want to, but you're not going to get me to give in," I said, as casually as I could. "That's really too bad," he responded. "I'm gonna have to fucking tear your ass apart. Really don't want to, `cause it's sweet and tight, but you just don't give me much choice." He gave me a look of mock sympathy as his cock began to push into my ass. The spit from my earlier face-fucking gave him just enough lube to push forward, but my hole was completely unprepared. Next thing I knew his cock was ramming into me, and my ass burned and stung like it was on fire. Normally, I'd be able to handle a large cock fine, but his felt like a metal pipe jammed up inside of me. The soldier grabbed my legs and started grinding his cock in and out of me, and finally I let loose a loud grunt of pain, but that just made him smile and go faster. I looked up at him, towering over me, sweat dripping off his face, and understood that this was want it meant to be completely dominated. To be made another guy's bitch against my will. I was nothing to him -- just a tight hole he could slam his dick in and out of. "You enjoying this, boy?" he said, over the sound of his low-hanging balls slapping against my skin. "You know, they say that yes means no with bottom cunts like you. Must be why you get arrested so often - you like being our little cum dump, don't you, bitch?" Ï could barely get any words out -- all I could concentrate on was his fucktool pounding in and out of me. But the pain was lessening a little, maybe my blood or his pre-cum was providing lube, and I managed to get out a strained "Fuck you." "No, I'm fucking you," he said, dryly with a smirk. "And a lot of other men will be too before you get out of here." With that he leaned forward, pushing my legs down and positioning his body just over mine so that our chests almost touched. His thick rigid cock slammed in even deeper, and I let out a restrained cry. That's when he pressed his lips against mine. His tongue forced my mouth open, and he kissed me aggressively. He tongue raped my mouth the same way his cock raped my ass. Then, he pulled his lips off of mine and positioned his mouth just a few inches from my lips, and said two words. "Open, now." His tone dripped authority, so I obeyed, opening my mouth wide. His eyes focused on mine intensely, and he pulled his head back and spit a huge gob of thick saliva into my mouth. I felt it hit my tongue -- his fucking disgusting soldier spit -- and didn't move. As he continued brutally fucking my ass, he spit a few more wads into my open mouth, and then clamped his big rough thumb and forefinger down on either side of my mouth. "Swallow." Again I obeyed, gulping down a mouthful of his spit and feeling it cascade down my throat. Not because I wanted to, but because I figured it useless to resist now that his 8-inch fuckstick was already ramming up my hole. Apparently that turned him on, because next thing I knew he started grabbing my nipples, twisting them roughly, and grunting. The pace of his fucking increased, his dick sliding easily in and out of my brutalized ass. I felt his cock starting to swell inside of me, pushing back my ass-walls even further. "Yea...you like that, boy? If you like my spit you're really going to like my cum. Your hole was fucking made to take my sperm -- that's all pussyboys like you are good for. You like my soldier cock ramming up inside of you, don't you? Yea...take it bitch. I'm fucking cumming!" he groaned. And with that I felt his hot white cum slamming into the walls of my ass, filling me up completely with his jizz. He kept slamming his cock into me, making sure his sperm went into me deep; breeding me like a real stud. Next thing I knew, his hand was roughly stroking my cock, and I was helpless to resist as my own dick erupted loads of cum onto my chest. I'd been trying to ignore it, but I'd been hard ever since he entered me. The solider laughed when he saw me cum, and he scooped up some of my cum with his fingers and shoved them into my mouth. Then he slowly pulled his light brown cock out of my ass, leaving behind a trail of wet semen. When his dickhead exited, I could feel my hole pulsing and throbbing, empty. He started to stand and scoffed at me. "You enjoyed that, didn't you, slut? We should make you pay for this shit, since you're just getting a free service. I think all you bottom-boy rebels would be happy if you just had someone to ram a cock up you 24-hours a day. Yea, your holes all red and puffy now, boy. But don't worry, there's a lot more cock coming." I glared at him, again defiant, despite the fact that I still had his spit glistening off my face. "Yea, well, if their dicks are as small as yours, then I shouldn't have anything to worry about," I said. His gaze hardened, then he rushed forward next to the bed, where I was still tied up, and brought his fist forward. His fist slammed into me, right on my jaw, and I felt a burst of white-hot pain and tasted blood. Then he stood back and looked down on me calmly. "That was just a warning shot. I could knock your fucking teeth out. But I'm a nice guy. And I think you're fucking beautiful. But some of these guys here -- you better show some respect," he cautioned. And with that, he put on his military-issued green trousers and left the room. I watched the sweat glisten off his bare olive-skinned back as he exited. And then I was alone, naked and tied to a bed in a concrete room, with my hole wide open and dripping with soldier cum. I took a deep breath and waited. I had no idea what to expect next. End of Chapter 1 About the Author: Hey everyone. Just in case any of you are curious, I'm a 19-year-old college student in Portland, Oregon. And yea, I'm a bottom boy with tattoos. For commentary on my work or other inquiries, e-mail me at dirtyboypdx@yahoo.com.