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(ST: "Wormhole" - SF/Fantasy, NC, Bond, Milking, Mast)
WORMHOLE - Part 2
I can remember laying there, hardly breathing, trying to remain still and quiet. I wasn't completely sure what the noise was that woke me up, but I suspected a few things. It was a soft, brushing sound, like a finger scratching a shirt, slow and steady. With it came the ragged, quiet sound of gentle panting. The approaching dawn, and with it the alarm, was maybe an hour away, and a soft, gray light framed the window. Keeping my eyes mostly shut, I peered across the room.
Just a few paces away, past small piles of assorted clothes, the other bed rested near the far wall. Mismatched blankets covered it, though not completely. In the dim light, I saw the covers were pushed down in the middle, exposing a heaving chest while a platinum blond head on the pillow looked down. What the other person -- and now I -- looked at was a thick, blunt erection, the shaft appearing nearly white in the early morning light, a clump of reddish blond pubes at its base. I knew the dick well even though I'd never spied it before. It was a nearly perfect copy of mine, just slightly smaller. Bobby, my younger brother, was masturbating.
I knew he did it because I told him how a couple years before. I used to hump my pillows back then and he accidentally discovered a fresh load smeared across the back of one. We were very close growing up, behaving more like twins than just siblings, and I figured I needed to not make the subject into a bigger deal than it really was. Embarrassed, I awkwardly explained the basics of reproduction and then told him how to "take things into his own hands." He avoided eye contact but hung on my every word. I assumed he tried it for himself and found his own technique, but what I saw him doing now was totally unexpected.
With his left hand gripping the base, Bobby vigorously rubbed his right hand across the head, sometimes with his palm, sometimes with his fingers grazing across the seam under the piss hole. Like seeing someone sucking a lemon or watching another guy get hit in the balls, I cringed at the sight and the idea of how maddening the feeling would be. But I also couldn't look away, and numb minutes ticked by. Despite e was clearly enjoying it, hips pushing up when he switched motions, often tilting his head back, eyes shut and mouth open, then quietly settling back again on the mattress. In spite of myself, I was getting hard watching my brother's self-torture. I was trapped, unwilling to watch but unable to stop.
Suddenly, with muffled gasps, he lifted his hips and focused on fanning the underside of his fingers across the tip of his dickhead. Even in the dim light I could see his piss lips tugged side to side as his hand became a blur of motion. It was as if two people were struggling for control of his body, his hips jerked away from his hand but quickly they shoved his cock back up to his unrelenting fingers, polishing his now shiny cock head.
I was rock hard under my covers, my own thick dick stretching the Jockey bikini briefs I wore. Reaching down, I tugged the waistband, freeing my hardon. I felt the tip of my dick with my fingertip and pulling away wet strings of precum. I imagined what Bobby was feeling and my cock throbbed painfully, screaming for release. But I had to stay "asleep", avoiding the terrible shame that would follow my openly "catching" him in the act.
Bobby's harsh whispers broke my thought. "No!" he said. "No, I can't, I can't!" What did that mean, I wondered. He sounded pathetic, even helpless, even though he was masturbating himself.
Before I could consider it further, he suddenly caught his breath, and I covertly watched my little brother have an orgasm that seemed more like a seizure. Fingers rubbing his dickhead mercilessly, his face twisted into an expression that almost looked like terrible pain, then Bobby began spraying cum. The light coming in the window above him backlit the drops as they shot and dribbled from behind his moving hand. I watched with some envy as he continued rubbing long after the ejaculation ended, his body twisting from the sensations, my cock throbbing under me.
In a few moments, stillness returned to the room and his breathing evened out while I silently fingered at the drips of precum my cock had burped out. Bobby suddenly turned to the side and I quickly pulled my eyes shut again. After a pause, I heard him pick up something near his bed, wipe himself off, then toss it gently down again.
From the other side of the room, as the air was disturbed from the cum-covered clothing he threw on the floor, I clearly caught the smell of semen, yeasty with a touch of bleach. My brother's cum.
I nearly gagged from it.
And I nearly came from it.
I was shamed and disturbed by what I'd witnessed. But from that moment on, while I didn't do it every time, I had an entirely new way to jerk off. Rubbing my cockhead, "polishing the apple," became something I enjoyed when I felt especially horny, relishing and hating the overload of sensations at the same time.
We never talked about jerking off, and I never let on that I saw his morning release. And life kept showing up, pushing us ahead. Like so many brothers, we grew up, and we grew apart.
Though he probably never knew it, my brother and I were connected by how we came.
### ### ###
My name is Mark. I'm getting milked.
Despite my post-cum hypersensitivity, everything the worm had been doing to me, it continued to do. The tiny, translucent cilia assaulted the outside of my cock, buzzing across and stimulating the edges of my dickhead, while long bunches of tendrils traveled down my pisshole and back out again, fishing out what little remained of my last load. Without my control, my body jerked in the straps from the invasion into my tender prick.
With increasing discomfort, my cock sent signals to my brain that enough was enough. The exact same sensations that were pure bliss during my orgasm moments before now grew harsh and raspy on my spent prick. Reflexively my torso twisted to escape the stimulation but I was trapped. Trapped on the bed while my penis remained trapped inside the insidious creature.
I turned to Kent with growing protests behind the gag but his lust-filled eyes only watched me writhe. "Here it comes, man. This is where it gets really interesting. And where you really need that gag."
Something nudged at my ass.
I struggled futilely to get away, and when I realized I couldn't, I looked again at Kent, pleaded with my eyes. "Oh fuck," he said. "I wish you could see this..." His eyes locked on the creature attached to my crotch. "Aw shit, get ready, man...."
The nudge against my asshole grew from a small, single point to a steady, thumb-sized pressure. Looking down, I saw the "tail" of the worm had stretched out and curved down between my legs. While the main body of the jelly-like creature remained in place over my dick, keeping it upright and vertical to my body, now it pulled my still-hard dick slightly downward toward my feet as it shifted to invade my ass.
I continued to struggle and thrash as best I could, crying out loudly behind the gag, but the worm was immovable and persistent. Despite my fear, my senses started to analyze exactly what the thing was trying to do. While the central point of the tail pressed at my clenched hole, the surrounding area spread wider; then it relaxed and spread out again, attempting to pry open my sphincter. It was cool and smooth, and soon the very tip of the tail began flicking back & forth over my pucker.
I tried to resist and continue fighting it, but with my cock locked in a nightmarish stimulation, it throbbed and twitch in the worm, causing my ass to clench -- and relax. The tip of the tail pushed, flicked, pushed, flicked... And then I throbbed again, and the tail-tip pushed deeper. With growing horror, I felt the tail gaining ground. It was moving, a fraction of an inch at a time, into my asshole, tickling me open as it went. My body was letting it in.
With endless patience and skill, over several minutes it worked more and more of the tip into my hole, gently spreading me open until maybe a section one-half inch long and one-quarter inch wide wiggled inside me. Suddenly the tendrils dipping inside my urethra pulsed and thickened; I gasped at the feeling and lurched upward in the straps. At my ass, the tail felt my hole tighten on it, and as soon as I relaxed, it shoved inside hard and fast -- a finger-sized projectile was now inside me, breaching my defenses. Now it went to work.
Screaming in the gag, I felt the worm "pouring" itself into me, like a slow squirt of gelatin passing through my hole and filling my rectum. It only took a few seconds, but the sensation burned into my brain, replaying over and over for long moments after it had stopped. No matter how hard I tried to pinch and clamp down with my sphincter, a plum-sized section of the jelly-like worm was now pushed inside me, connected through my asshole by a narrow length of tail. Slowly, the section inside me changed shape, stretching out and probing, exploring deep inside my ass. It was searching. I began to panic again, afraid -- terrified -- of what it was about to do.
Staring at the ceiling and falling quiet, I felt a wave of tiredness wash over me. My mind was going numb, into a kind of shock I guess, overloaded by the feelings flooding in and unable to cope with the reality of my situation. Things seemed far away, like everything was viewed backwards through a telescope. I felt everything that was going on but couldn't seem to focus on any part of it. I was hoping I was going to pass out, but that wasn't what was planned for me. Soon a new sensation began and yanked me back to the here and now once again.
I felt both ends of the worm -- one buried into my dick, the other now inside my ass -- moving and squirming, as if they were reaching for each other inside my body. The sensation was incredible and shouted clearly in my mind through the numbness. I opened my mouth to cry out but found no sound to use. I had no idea how to sort the feelings flooding my mind. Deep inside me, past the base of my freshly stiffening cock, I imagined the tendrils wriggling wildly like unearthed worms, the tips searching blindly for escape, bumping and nudging everything within reach. One tapped suddenly against something, some spot I didn't recognize or know, but the feeling of it there forced me to make a raw, bark-like noise.
"It's drilling inside your cock already, isn't it?" Kent asked. I forgot he was even there. Unable to move or talk, my only reply was to spasm endlessly on the bed as the worm continued to invade me.
"Fuck, this thing loves you two more than the others." You two? What two? What others?
Ken reached out almost tenderly and put his hand on my shoulder. "I didn't think about that," he said apologetically. "Fuck, I'm sorry, man. You're in for a lot more than I thought. I'm really sorry..."
Confused and now even more scared, I wondered briefly what the fuck Kent was talking about, but the worm stole my attention back quickly.
Apparently satisfied it found what it was searching for, the probing tendril pushed on the spot inside me, withdrew, and pushed again. My mind raced to sort through the feelings, but it was all so foreign to me. All I could imagine was it was looking for a way into my bladder or my prostate. I tried to move but soon found my motions tugged at the tendrils and made the feelings even more intense, so quickly I grew still and silent. Then, another tendril moved in and joined the first, probing gently yet firmly at whatever portal was so deep inside me. Soon the extra tendril coordinated with the other and zeroed in on the "sweet spot". Then, with a sickening slowness, I felt as they pushed some small gap open...and slid inside.
For a moment, I grew queasy, sickened by the blend of erotic and alien sensations I was feeling. But then, without warning, an orgasm wracked my body, unlike any other I have known. It wasn't from stimulation on the outside, like the endless stroking and flicking that worked my cock; instead, it was purely from the merciless being burrowing in my holes. I heard myself scream in a pleasure-laced agony as I unwillingly pumped shot after shot of my seed into the worm.
This time the tendrils didn't all pull out of my pisshole as I came. While some did to make way for my semen to spurt out, the others pushed deeper inside me, joining the other two, fluttering the entire way. Meanwhile, under me, my clenching ass simply encouraged the worm's tail to slide obscenely forward and back, matching my contractions perfectly. Each cumshot forced the worm to move mostly out of my ass, then quickly it slid back in, pushing my hole wide as it did. For the first time in my life, I was getting fucked, and it made me cum even harder.
"Oh god, yeah!" Kent said from somewhere. "Rape his cock, baby..."
Almost as if the worm heard Kent, I became acutely aware of the cilia inside the worm launching a renewed attack on my dick. Mid-orgasm was like the start of an entirely new cum, a feeling of stroking and sucking enveloping my helpless prick. Now this was the type of orgasm I knew and recognized -- or so I thought. As my orgasm quickly ramped back up to full power, the tail suddenly grew firm and ridged, widening significantly in my ass. And the fucking motion increased, as if to speed up my orgasmic contractions.
The pain of the violation exploded into my mind, but with it, under the surface, a strange pleasure was present. The now-bumpy appendage, thickened to maybe an inch wide, dragged its ridged surface through my hole, back and forth. I was afraid it was going to injure me, stab my guts, doing serious damage. But at that same instant, just for a moment, I caught myself lifting my ass to give the worm more access, hoping if it felt this oddly good, then having it push deeper would only increase the pleasure.
It hurt, and I hated it.
I continued to cum.
Granting my wish, the worm must have sensed my ass being presented to it, because soon the strokes grew deeper, the shaft of it wider. It pressed against my balls, a dull ache starting from the pressure, but I couldn't have cared less. Whole lungs-full of air powered my screaming orgasmic fit. For the first time in my life, I thought it could be possible to cum to death.
Seconds rolled by, and I continued to helplessly feed the worm my semen. It may have been minutes later when I stopped, I don't know. I only knew that I was still jerking, still orgasming, hemorrhaging cum into the insidious worm.
Someone was saying something I couldn't really hear. I looked to the right, moving my head, but my vision didn't follow. I could only see the texture of the ceiling before me. Blurred.
Still, far away now, I continued to cum.
### ### ###
Someone was screaming. A guy's voice. I thought for a moment it was me, but it wasn't. I almost smiled at how odd it was I'd even think that. But quickly my situation settled back over me. I was still tied, still on the bed, my sweat-slick back clinging to a sheet.
I blinked, trying to clear my vision and make sense of what was happening around me. The worm was still there, still "suckling" me, but in a sort of idling way. My cock felt thick and puffy, a slightly numb feeling gripping it as the worm gripped me. The cilia rippled over it, but it seemed less demanding. For now, at least. I knew that couldn't last, especially--
The scream again. Yelling. Panicked.
I turned toward the noise. Kent was there, now sitting at his desk beside the bed. He was in a tshirt and the same gray boxer briefs as before. But where his still-stiff dick tented them up, a large wet patch had appeared, dark and soggy. Too much for precum, I figured Kent had blown his load. Still, his dick poked the fabric. He was still horny.
He stared at his computer screen, one hand rubbing lazily at his dick, the other gripping the mouse. The sound changed on his speakers, going back to a previous set of cries. He sat back, letting the mouse rest, and watched intently. I turned to find a clock, to gauge the passage of time, but didn't see one.
"Hey, you came back, huh?" Kent didn't sound nearly worried enough that I had passed out from his fucking worm. I grew slightly irritated as this.
I held back my comment, knowing the gag would -- the gag, it was gone. I licked my lips.
"Yeah," Kent said, seeing me connect dots. "I took the gag off you. After you blanked on me, I got worried you might not be able to breathe enough with it on."
The worm reminded me that it still had several tendrils exploring inside me and I jerked from the sensations. I managed a quiet "Aww" in response. I saw Kent's pointed cock throb and dance in his lap.
"How you like it so far?" he asked with an almost sinister grin.
I wanted to answer but only a raspy choke came out. My mouth was so incredibly dry. I licked my lips again.
"Sorry, Mark," Kent said, "I know you're probably really thirsty but water will only make you throw up at this point. Something about the worm's chemistry. I dunno."
The tail of the worm pushed deep inside me, no longer fucking me but exploring up into my bowels, dancing along the walls of my rectum, bumping against my prostate with every move. I hissed as another inch or so of tail slide through my stretched hole, wondering just how long and thick it could become.
The cries, pitiful yelps of sheer agony, rose again in the background. Kent glanced at the screen and smiled slightly. He looked at me briefly and back to the screen. Turning in his office chair to face me, he leaned forward on his knees.
"I think you might need some inspiration," he said, then chewing absently on his lower lip for a moment. He turned to the computer, clicked the mouse a couple times, then smiled again. "Yeah, I've been wanting you to see this for a while."
Knowing Kent, I expected...okay, I didn't really expect anything in particular because I knew from all these years that I'd be way off anyway. So I waited to not be shocked by expecting to see the weirdest, most shocking thing imaginable.
Kent turned his LCD display to face the bed.
I took in the image, a video starting to play out on the screen. I pieced together what I was seeing as best I could. I was confused for a few moments, trying to adjust to the odd angle, then started to understand the image. Oh my god, I thought. It was video of the worm on someone else. A close-up of the creature showed it impaled on a stiff dick, the tail drooping slightly but not yet attacking the poor guy's ass. The victim was shaking from side to side, appearing as though he wanted to shake the worm off. His cries were heart-wrenching...and familiar.
The camera panned up his body -- then I realized hadn't imagined anything shocking enough to prepare me.
Naked except for a white tank top, limbs stretched wide, blue eyes wild with terror above the black gag, Bobby looked pleadingly at the camera. Over the desktop speakers, I hear Kent's disembodied voice: "I warned you, Bobby, but you begged to try it. Now you're going to cum until you're dry."
The same bed, the same straps, the same worm, the same torture. My kid brother, now in his 20s, is stretched out on the screen beside the bed. I glance at Kent with a mixture of shock and anger, which he immediately reads. He shrugs.
"We met by accident at a bar," Kent explains. "He'd just broken up with his girlfriend, he was buzzed and horny as fuck. We got on the subject of kink and he was all ears. I hadn't seen Bobby in years, but man oh man was I glad I found him that night. Little Bobby ain't so little anymore, is he?"
The camera angle pulls back as Bobby tries again to escape, his muffled attempts at speech flooding out of the speakers to fill the room. The shimmering worm appears at the right side of the shot, light dancing in elaborate patterns inside of it as the cilia work my brother's thick cock. Thick like mine.
Immediately, I realize what I'd thought and turn away from the screen. No, I can't watch this. It's sick. What the fuck was Kent thinking? I try to speak, fail, swallow and try again. Kent interrupts.
"I told him about you --" I jumped at the words "-- yeah, he knows that you've been my cum cow for a while now. But don't worry, he didn't judge. In fact, little brother seemed to like the idea that I wanted to take him where I've taken you before. But this shit was way past what we expected."
"Why did --" I began. The worm's tail shifted in my ass, cutting me off.
"No, don't talk," Kent said. "Just listen."
Kent reach across his desk and the desktop speakers crackled as the volume increased. I heard Bobby's cries growing more urgent, more panicked. I turned to look at the screen, but seeing my brother's naked body drove me to look away again.
"Wait for it," Kent said.
Despite myself, I slowly looked at the screen, Bobby's wild expression filling it. Then abruptly, his yells quieted. His expression changed. His head tilted just slightly back. His eyes looked blankly ahead and then half-closed. Behind the gag, a low moan began. And grew.
"I told him about the worm and he wanted to try it," Kent said, watching the screen with me. "He wanted it bad. I warned him what could happen, but I don't think he believed me. But once I got him naked and tied down, fuck, dude, there was no way in hell he was going to back out on me. It's just too bad I didn't catch the first cumshot on video. That boy has some lungs. "
The video continued, showing Bobby's entire body on the bed, clothed only in the tank top and short socks. I realized what I was seeing was the post-cum torture of my brother, his cock trapped inside the terrible stimulation. As his moaning grew, so did my own cock inside the worm. The worm. The worm that had raped my brother was still raping me now. Milking us. Taking all our cum. I saw Bobby's chest heaving faster now, arms and legs flexed, hands in fists.
"Turns out Bobby likes his apple polished even more than you," Kent continued. "Before I got the worm out, I put the Sonicare on his dickhead for a while and that boy went nuts. Called me everything but a white man before I had to gag him. But I never saw a cock get so hard from that buzz before."
I couldn't help it. I was getting horny watching and listening to my kid brother being milked. The mostly idle worm that gently worked me noticed my growing dick and slow thrusting of my hips, and it obliged my quest for stimulation by beginning to molest me -- inside and out -- once again. Harder. Faster.
Like an echo, Bobby moaned.
Kent smiled an evil little grin. "He's definitely your brother," Kent said. "You two always looked alike but his cock is just like yours. Shit, I could barely tell them apart. Not all that long, but nice and thick, with those fat heads that love extra attention. Especially when you two can't stop it."
Tendrils lapped at my precum even as it emerged deep inside me. Not waiting for my own contractions, the tail began a slow, steady fucking of my ass, shoving against my prostate. I tried to push the vision of Bobby's dick out of my mind, but the memories of that morning years ago come back to confirm what Kent is saying.
A slightly smaller version of mine...
"Watch this," Kent said with a smirk. "You can see exactly when the worm goes inside his piss slit..."
Bobby groaned, his body caught between writhing and locking. I saw the worm riding his dick, smothering it with sensations I completely understood. With a sudden grunt, Bobby tried to sit up, held in place by the straps. His expression was wild again, his legs bouncing quickly. Then, as the camera moved toward the worm, Bobby began a high-pitched squeal. Inside the translucent mass, the fleshy colors of my brother's dick could be seen. As the camera struggled to focus, amazing details came into view. While appearing calm and unmoving on its surface, the crystalline mass of the worm was constantly in motion, sliding and pulsing. In it, though slightly blurred, Bobby's stiff dick was visible, down to individual hairs and veins.
Motion near the top of the screen quickly became a close-up shot: while shimmering cilia danced around my brother's cock, causing it to pulse and throb, the darker head of his dick soon came into focus. At the very tip, a small, darker area became evident. It was his piss hole. Remembering how the worm pulled mine open, I watched as it performed a similar motion on Bobby and listened to our moans. No, my moans, not to his...
The worm was working me more urgently now. My own grunts, moans, and whimpers began to meld with Bobby's on the video. We were being taken, robbed of our cum by force. Brotherly cum...
"It's right..." Kent said as a glimpse of shimmering appeared at the opening of Bobby's urethra.
The shimmering wavered just slightly on Bobby's piss lips. Then a silvery projection filled the dark patch, then retreated. Returned, then retreated. And then, returned.
Bobby screamed over and over into his gag. In his voice, I heard a "please" and a "no" but the rest was simply gutteral noises. Hearing them made me even harder in the worm. On the screen, as I saw a small ribbon-like area slowly stream into Bobby piss hole, followed by more, followed by still more, as his cries grew more desperate. It was inside him now, like it was inside me. We were feeling it pushing deeper, probing deep into our cocks...
On the video, Kent said, "Aw, dude, it's sliding into your cock!" Bobby answered with loud panting. Without a trace of pity, Kent added, "This is so cool..."
Suddenly I was torn from the mesmerizing sight of Bobby's cock-rape by a new sensation inside me. With a steady, deliberate pressure, more tendrils were pushing down my urethra. My cock felt full, stuffed. I imagined my piss hole yawning wide to accommodate all the narrow, slick fingers that worked themselves into my cock. As they pushed into me, they wriggled against one another, pushing across the inside of my cock, and deeper still. I arched up and gasped.
"Aw, fuck!" I heard Kent say. "Aw fuck, here I come!"
I realized that Kent's shouts weren't coming from the speakers but from him standing next to me. Looking up I saw him leaning slightly forward, his knees against the bed as he watched the video, his cum-damp boxer briefs stretched across his hard dick, the outline of his pointy cockhead clearly visible. He said "Fuck!" once more and his untouched cock began to jump in his underwear. Just a foot away from my head, Kent came hands-free seeing us suffer and cum. He was thrusting his hips with ragged jerks as wads of semen slowly pushed through the fabric of his underwear.
With a sudden twitch, I realized one more tendril had breeched the narrow passage to plunge into my prostate.
In the video, Bobby continued to make inhuman noises as the worm penetrated his piss hole. Our piss holes. Deeper and deeper.
The camera swung up to show most of Bobby, face to crotch. I watched my brother slowly give in to the feelings his cock was sending him. In his struggling, Bobby's gag has moved slightly, pulling partially clear of his mouth. But rather than talk, he only groans. I saw the gradual realization cross his features that the rape of his piss hole didn't hurt and felt oddly good. Like looking into a mirror and seeing myself just a few years younger, I watched Bobby get his aching prick impaled by probing tendrils as I did, too. And recognizing the sounds and his expression, I watched him prepare to cum from it.
The smell of Kent's cum hit me then, heavy and musky.
Like the smell of my cum. Like Bobby's cum.
I nearly gagged from it.
And I nearly came from it.
On the video, Kent said, "You can try and fight it, but you can't win." Bobby looked at the camera, eyes imploring Kent to please make it stop. Or was it to please make him cum?
Another tendril shoved beyond my urethra and into my prostate, now joining the others in a flailing dance that caused my torso to clench and head to roll from side to side. It felt like having your cockhead gently tickled, but magnified 100 times, and tucked away deep inside your body where you can't get to it, only feel it. Each exhale came as a long whimper. Still, I tried to watch the screen.
From behind the camera, Kent said, "Your cum is mine, Bobby. Just like your brother's. I took all of his before, making him shoot and beg me to stop. But I never did. Like I told you, I milked Mark over and over. Watching him whimper for me, totally helpless and completely hard. You said you wanted it, now ask for it."
A hand appeared to tug the gag just clear of Bobby's mouth. Bobby looked away from the camera, uncomfortable waves of pleasure passing across his face as the worm increased its ruthless milking of his tender cock.
The tail was curved, fucking my ass with long, urgent strokes, and slamming across my prostate with every thrust.
Bobby said something, too low to understand on the video. Kent shoved the camera closer to his face. "Say it," Kent said firmly. "I'm delivering my part now keep yours, or I swear I'll leave this thing on you all fucking night!"
"Please what, Bobby?" Kent demanded.
"Please... take my cum," Bobby said between gasping breaths. He turned back to the camera, a pained expression on his face as the worm burrowed deeper into his cock. "I want to cum like Mark. Please...I want...to get milked..."
"Tell him," Kent said off-camera. "I'm going to show this to Mark, so tell him what you're doing and what you're feeling." Next to me, I barely noticed as Kent shifted his weight; inside me, tendrils flailed faster, tail fucked harder. I kept my eyes on the computer screen. Watching. Moaning.
Bobby looked at the camera -- at ME -- and flinched again from the worm's attack. Then he locked eyes with me as he began again.
"Mark, he's taking my cum out. Milking... me... he's using this... AW!" His face twisted in pain, or maybe pleasure, but he tried to keep talking. Talking to me.
"It's...some worm thing...and it's...oh god it's inside me! It's in...pushing this tentacle or...oh fuck, please no!! Aw...AWW!!" His voice grew loud and urgent. Laced with pain, but also a kind of rapture, conflicted.
"PLEASE, QUIT! Stop, take it out! Kent! Make it stop! Aw fuck, the, the little... please, it's pushing... what is it... no, don't go in... it's too wide...it won't fit! AH! No, NO! This isn't what-- AW! IT'S SLIDING OUT!! AWWW!!!"
The camera pulled back and zoomed in on his worm-wrapped cock. Behind the camera, Kent muttered, "Holy shit! What the fuck..."
Directly over Bobby's piss hole, the movement was obvious, and horrible. A silvery-white shaft, over 1/8 inch wide, slid slowly out of my brother's dick, appearing almost like a slimy drill-bit, covered in a spiral of grooves, the tapered end still buried in his tiny piss hole. Behind it, the surface of the worm tented outward, bulging as the invading shaft moved back. Stunned, I watched at least four inches of it sliding out of Bobby's cock, with more still inside him. How long was this thing? I tried to imagine what it could possibly feel like. I cringed.
Then Bobby suddenly sobbed, "No...oh god no...don't..."
With a smooth and sickening motion, the worm slid the terrible, ribbed rod back into Bobby's cock. Bobby's body shuddered in the background, reacting to the invasion. I heard my brother's babbling pleas punctuated by an abrupt cry and my heart sank, knowing this had to be excruciating for him. I wanted to turn away, but I kept watching, my dick continuing to throb. Even harder now.
On the large screen, the "drill bit" pulled back again, pulling a moan out of Bobby with it, and swiftly drove into his cock once more, pushing out a whimper. Immediately, but more firmly somehow, it pulled back then pushed in again. Bobby groaned. It repeated the stroking faster, then faster, until soon Bobby's cock was being brutally fucked with the shiny, corkscrewed shaft. His cries had now transformed into a single, long whimper. I watched, counting in my head as the drill-bit moved even faster until it was sliding in and out nearly twice a second. It was disgusting to me, just the idea of the sacred, sensitive interior of my little brother's hard dick being plugged by this creature's slimy little horn.
Inside the worm, his dick was rock hard. I wondered how the hell could it still be that hard?
The camera now zoomed in as close as possible, losing focus for a few beats, then bringing the tip of Bobby's dick into vivid detail. The drill-bit shaft looked far more solid and shiny than the rest of the worm, coated in some sort of slime and an unknown supply of Bobby's precum. As it pulled back through Bobby's stuffed dickhole, the grooves that crossed its surface came into sharper relief, appearing like the spiral of a snail's shell but deeper. But what I couldn't ignore was how strained my brother's piss hole seemed. And as the drill-bit pushed back inside his cock, I saw Bobby's piss lips ride those invading ridges as they slid past. In my mind, his pitiful squeals seemed almost to read those spiral ridges as musical notes.
"Oh my god," Kent said on the video, obviously witnessing something unexpected. "What the fuck is it doing to you?"
Beside me, Kent added, "Hard to watch, isn't it? Don't worry, this thing fucked him even harder the next time he came over. " Kent smiled at me. "Oh yeah, it did a lot more. But watch this..."
Bobby's cries were now deep sobs as the worm fucked his cock, quickening to pace the thrusts of the evil drill-bit, and I was ashamed at how hard his suffering had made my dick. On the screen, Kent pulled the camera around and focused it back on Bobby's face. He'd been crying. His cheeks damp with recent tears, his eyes slightly red and puffy, and suddenly I wanted to save him, to rescue my little brother from this merciless worm. At the same time, on some sick level, I also wanted to see him experience the brutal cock-fucking. To hear him cum by force. To know why he would ever come back for more.
At this stage the worm must have sensed my growing excitement and throbbing cock, and a tendril expanded a tiny "knot" just inside the portal into my prostate. It pulled it slowly, building pressure there that ended in a quick internal "pop" as it came out past the portal. It felt like a jolt of mini-orgasm condensed into a finger-snap. I cry out and the knot seems to magically re-appear on the other side, back inside my prostate. Then it pulls and pops out again. And again, building speed. I began to squirm and writhe, like Bobby, unable to make sense of the feelings and reacting however I could.
Bobby grew louder. "Oh please...no," he cried, struggling to blurt out his thoughts, his unheeded pleas for mercy. "Please don't let it...I can't...I can't take more...no, no...it's fucking me...OH GOD, MARK, IT'S FUCKING MY DICK! IT'S FUCKING--NOOO!! awwww..."
But only then, reading his expression through the haze of my own stimulations, did I realize the real nature of his cries. Head tilted back and neck muscles strained, Bobby's mouth carried the faintest hint of a smile. Any pain had clearly been long lost in a sea of new delights as they raced through his body. Watching his face now, I saw how Bobby's sobs were laced with chuckles of amazed laughter. He was delighted at getting his cock fucked. The camera shifted again, pulling back, showing Bobby head-to-legs as he lifted himself up as best as he could, offering his trapped dick to the worm that held it. And visible in the worm was the drill-bit, moving in and out of him, moving almost as a blur now, impaling his cock.
My little brother, who I'd loved and watched over for most of my life, who looked to me to make things right when we were boys, here he was -- in his 20s now, but still my baby brother... exposed, helpless... and surrendering himself to the worm that tormented him. Willingly offering his stiff cock to its manipulations. It wasn't right. And I couldn't make it go away.
"Stop it," I said to Kent. "Make it stop."
Maybe thinking I meant the worm brutally working my own cock, Kent bluntly said, "I can't. You have to cum."
"No, please," Bobby croaked out, suddenly quiet, in a pleading tone heavy with sincerity. Then louder and more frenzied, "No...I can't take it...I can't...it's fucking me...too hard!...AW! It's pushing down to...I feel it! Oh shit...stop! STOP!!!"
Kent's bedroom was soon filled with a chorus of begging and moaning as the worm fucked our dicks both in real time and on the video. This amazing, evil, merciless worm seemed to take very different approaches based on what it gathered we enjoyed, tailoring the style to walk perfectly between sweet pain and agonizing pleasure, turning pure ecstasy into endless torment. The opening to my own prostate was being strummed from the inside with tiny tendril "beads," while I watched Bobby get his piss hole firmly pistoned by a drill-bit shaped probe. But no matter the technique, the result was bound to be the same.
His face was squinted tight, his breath held, and body tensed; Bobby seemed almost frozen in place on the screen. Everything fell quiet. On his dick, as the shimmering cilia danced unabated over his cock, the terrible, wonderful drill-bit pumped away, creating a very faint, but increasingly obvious, "squishing" sound. I saw Bobby's eyes dart around quickly, seeking the source of the sound. Like me, he traced it to the rod reaming his cock. He watched it for a moment, listening to the sound of his cock-rape layered into the other sensations. Suddenly, after long seconds of silence, he released his held-breath explosively, and shouted, "Wait! WAIT!! STOP! NO!!! Aw, it's going too deep! AWW! It's...it's getting bigger! No, it's wide! TOO WIDE!! Stop! Oh fuck. OH FUCK!"
I tried to stay focused on the screen, but my own orgasm nightmare was nearing. So with yelling and cursing, I began my own slow, painful slide toward release. But my brother was screaming now, even louder, shouting fragments of words between his cries, trying to tell me what he was experiencing back in his own hell.
"I can't!" Bobby shouted to the air around him. "I can't...it's too... AW!! I CAN'T!! Mark, make it stop! It's fucking my pee hole! It's too big...get it out! GET IT OUT!!! OH! It's going to...oh! OH!...oh god." His voice shifted from agony to disbelief, and now to something else.
"Oh god! Aww fuck! AWW FUCK YEAH!! FUCK MY COCK! FUCK IT!!"
I perceived the tendril inside me, yanking the "bead" through the opening so fast now that it felt like I was dribbling out a string of BBs. It was an incredible feeling, yet I couldn't synchronize the impulses with my drive to cum. It was pulling me toward the edge, but somehow keeping me too far away to achieve an orgasm. I pushed and twisted, trying to find the extra stimulation I needed to shoot. It wasn't there. I was being cruelly edged. But Bobby was not...he was being milked by the worm, drilling deep into his cock.
I heard pure lust over the speakers. "OOOOOHHHFFFFUCK...GAWWWWDPLEASE! AWW...DEEPER!!!"
Like a slow, melodramatic death in a bad horror film, Bobby made exaggerated choking noises as his body became gripped in orgasmic convulsions. He was cumming. But he cumming from the nearly unimaginable cock-fucking of his dickhole. But he didn't have to imagine it, it was very real, a ribbed and expanding shaft slipping deep into his urethra with quick, smooth strokes, specially created by the diabolical creature for him alone. His body had no choice but to respond. This was exactly what his cock secretly -- perhaps unknowingly -- wished for. And so, with another loud, choking sound, Bobby's body lost its battle against the worm. Its drill-bit fast at work, it pushed my Bobby over the edge, plunging him into orgasm as brutally as it plunged into his cock. Bobby finally began to shoot his tortured load.
Gasping and whimpering with each shot, he offered what must have been an enormous and seemingly endless cum to the worm. Beneath him, the bed creaked as his body thrashed in the restraints. Five seconds of Bobby's orgasm passed...ten seconds...15? Only Bobby's endless noisemaking was any indication that he was still cumming, the worm and its pistoning appendage still hard at work. A full 30 seconds passed. While Bobby's cries may have been growing quieter, his writhing continued. Well beyond beyond the point of ejaculation, his body tried to collect itself, trembling again and again as he moved into the painful aftershocks of his orgasm. His moans became clearer and more pronounced now.
And the sinister drill-bit wasn't slowing or stopping. And it had grown, easily 1/4 inch wide now.
It was here that I first noticed the true fear come back to Bobby's face. He alternated between clenching his body and then jerking in the restraints as best as he could. His sweat-covered brow was becoming furrowed, his eyes darting across the ceiling, his tongue licking his lips. With a massive jerk, a good minute after his orgasm had ended, he closed his eyes and wailed his protests.
"STOP!! NO STOP!! PLEASE MAKE IT FUCKING STOP!!"
My own cock lurched in the worm and it feasted on my precum. The bead flew back and forth at my prostate. I needed to cum. Please, do more, I thought. But please don't stop.
"FUCK!! STOP! PLEASE STO-O-O-P!"
As I watched my brother, he gasped while panting wildly. He seemed to be calming slightly, and a quick glance at the worm showed why. The drill-bit rod had slowed, its terrible stroking gradually decreasing, but still sliding in and out of Bobby's spent dick.
I began to focus on my own orgasm then, waiting for the final nudge of stimulation I needed to finally shoot my next wad. But no sooner had Bobby's wailing stopped as it changed and started again, low and disbelieving, growing at a quickening pace.
"No...god no...not this..." I saw Bobby's body twisting strongly to one side, fingers curved and clenched like an animal. He shuddered, mouth open in his own silent scream.
The camera shifted back to the worm, where the drill-bit had resumed a very slow, almost gentle pistoning. But what appeared to be some trick of the eyes really wasn't -- with each slow thrust, the drill-bit pivoted, turning slightly in Bobby's gaping pisshole. Just like a living drill, the worm's spiraled bit was slowly boring into my brother's dick slit. Looking closely at the underside of his dick, you could just make out the bulging urethral tube as the probe slid around inside his cock.
Kent pulled the camera back and included Bobby's face again in the shot, Bobby's expression twisted by overwhelming sensations. "I'm sorry, Bobby," Kent said, "but I can't make it stop. Does...does it hurt?"
"Yes!" Bobby blurted with a shout. But no sooner did he say it as he paused, and then gasped again and whispered, "No..."
The screen returned to a view the worm on Bobby's dick. Inside, the drill-bit was still sliding slowly into and out of his shrinking cock, twisting, twisting, twisting... "It's not pain...it's just...AWW! Just...OH GOD!"
Outwardly nothing seemed to change at first, but no sooner did Bobby cry out than the bit pushed visibly deeper and spun greater, almost an entire revolution. Push, twist, gasp. Push, twist, moan, Push, twist, whimper. He may have just given the worm a massive load, but Bobby wasn't even close to being finished.
In the background, Bobby writhed again, stiffly. His abrupt scream startled me, even frightened me. "IT'S GOING INSIDE!! IT'S GOING UP INSIDE ME!!!" The drill-bit continued as before, but where the tapered end had been clearly visible as it glided up and down inside Bobby's rounded urethra, now something narrow stretched out from the tip of it. Pressing outward on Bobby's urethra as it probed deeper. Moving down, seeking Bobby's vulnerable prostate.
As the view switched again, I heard Bobby panting faster and faster. His face appeared in the shot, flushed red now, making his blue eyes and light eyebrows jump out in sharp contrast. He was trying to say something, but wasn't able. His body was covered in sweat, a trickle of drool at the corner of his mouth. Something was wrong. Something was happening.
"What the...it's sucking! The end...oh god the end...it's pushing my...OH FUCK! OH FUCK!!!!" I imagined the terrible ecstasy that greeted Bobby's prostate, the probing, flexing tip of the drill-bit suddenly sucking at it, unseen but unavoidably felt. Brutally felt.
And then it happened. Bobby -- captive, helpless, dick stuffed, drilled, and probed, a thin tube sucking at the opening of his prostate -- shuddered once, then twice, while mumbling, "Gonna make me...I can't...ooooogawwwwd...noooo...please no..."
Bobby seemed frozen for a moment, as if locked in a seizure, then he gasped and, eyes rolling into his head, dropped limply onto the bed. His chest heaved breaths but his expression was blank. The shot returned to the worm, where inside, the drill-bit proceeding unphased to burrow into my little brother's disturbingly stiff dick. Somehow he was still hard, and I realized that he didn't pass out from exhaustion or pain. Bobby passed out, like I had, from an overload of pleasure.
I watched the worm drill Bobby's dick for another minute or so, still edged by my own worm and its prostate torture, still riding its curved, stiff tail. When would it let me cum again? I needed to cum again.
Bobby's dick flexed slightly and near the bottom of the screen a flurry of motion appeared -- cilia stroking and buffing the very edge of his cockhead. I knew that feeling. I thrust my own bound body as best I could, pushing my cock toward the worm, feeling its thrusting tail follow my abused asshole with deepening strokes.
Bobby was still limp on the video, still unresponsive but clearly breathing and almost peaceful. Then his hips seemed to flex, just barely. Then again. An incoherent noise came from his throat. I didn't know the meaning of his groan, but I knew the reason for it. And so I watched, helpless in my own torture, as my unconscious brother was about to fall victim once again to the worm we had now shared.
Nothing was working my cock, no cilia teasing the head, no ridges stroking the shaft. Only the attack inside my prostate and the fucking tail in my ass. But it was working, slowly, to drive me closer.
The video showed the drill-bit -- now thickened to a dick-filling 3/8 inch -- still spinning away at maybe 40 rpm but also more freely, continuing to steadily ream in and out of Bobby's dick. His bulging urethra hinted at the flexible probe that likely still pushed and sucked at his prostate. Despite losing consciousness, Bobby's thick cock was still as hard as before. Whatever the worm was doing to his imprisoned dick, it continued to respond. Suddenly his worm-wrapped prick seemed to grow and throb, but he made no noise as it did. It throbbed again, harder. Then repeatedly in quick succession. He was cumming, his body on automatic pilot, paying the raping worm with his semen. The deep grooves of the spinning shaft did their job and globs of fresh cum emerged around it, squeezing past Bobby's yawning piss lips to pile up on the head, like sawdust from a drilled board.
Nothing the worm did changed for me, but my own orgasm was now about to hit. I felt it. I welcomed it. The curved tail seemed to bristle suddenly, large bumps and ridges appearing around its length as it quickened its fucking. My sphincter struggled to accommodate the new shapes, stretched and tugged by their passage.
Nothing touched my dick. And I came anyway.
Like my brother, a willing slave to the worm.
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TO BE CONTINUED.