Date: Tue, 24 Aug 2010 18:49:32 +0100
From: port_pass <port_pass@hotmail.com>
Subject: Thinking Back #46

Author: Alex, from Portugal
E-mail: port_pass@hotmail.com

Any feedback will be much appreciated.

This story may have non-consensual sex between males. Don't read it if
you're not legally allowed to or if it might disturb you.


Part 46

After the two National Guard officers left, I stayed curled in foetal
position until the brutal pain from their last cruel kick to my crotch
started to subside. I raised myself with difficulty from the cold, dirty
floor of the toilet room and dragged myself to the washing basin. I
couldn't suppress a loud sob when I saw my face in the mirror. It was
swollen from the vicious slapping, streaked with dirt, spit, piss, cum and
tears.

I started washing myself, trying to scrub off the filthy remains of all the
torments I had just been through. I also raised myself up to the basin and
scooped some water to wash my arse. Just touching my swollen cheeks or my
raped anal pussy was agony. My arse-cheeks were still blazing and turning
purple, streaked with signs of the multiple welts from the vicious beltings
I had suffered - first from Thunder and lastly from the sadistic
sergeant. My arse-lips, battered by uncountable cocks and cruelly spanked
by the sergeant's belt, were all puffed out, furiously red and aching
horribly, dribling cum through my unclenched anus. My small scrotum was
also purple from the brutal thwacks and kicks and any movement I made
increased the numb pain in my beaten testicles.

This had been the worst day of those miserable weeks since I had met with
my fate of whoredom. I had not only been raped again and again, but also
beaten and spanked worse than ever before. I had had to accept my fate as
the object of men's most obscene lust, but I now also had to come to terms
with their merciless cruelty as well.

After cleaning myself as best I could, I retrieved my clothes from the
stall where my gang rape had just occurred - just the latest of a serious
of such horrible experiences. They were bundled in a corner, next to the
toilet bowl, and horribly wet and filthy. I had no choice but to put them
on, whimpering with pain on every movement of my aching muscles and from
the harsh contact of the wet clothes on my welted arse and upper legs.

I finally picked up my equally filthy school-bag and was ready to head for
the door and out of that horrible place, when I remarked the clearer area
of the dirty floor that I had just been forced to mop with my
tongue. Reminded of that ghastly experience, I couldn't suppress a sudden
wretch from deep in my stomach and a rancid taste of piss and cum filled my
mouth. I felt nauseous and about to throw up. I ran to the nearest stall,
but before I could reach the bowl I released a gush of vomit on the
floor. With my head going dizzy, I fell down on my knees and puked a second
surge of undigested urine and sperm into the filthy bowl.

I had been there lying on the floor for probably a couple of minutes, too
exhausted to get up, when I was startled by a noise behind me. I looked out
of the stall and saw a middle-age man, wearing a dirty gray overall,
pushing a rusty metal bucket with a mop handle sticking out. He was into
his 50s, tall and thin, with an ugly, wrinkled face, balding gray hair and
a scruffy gray beard.

"What's this filthy mess you're making on my floor, boy?" he screamed at
me. "I'm sorry... I'm sick..." I blubbered, steadying myself on the toilet
bowl to try to pull myself up. In a flash, he was on to me, kicking me with
his dirty work-boot and making me slump back to the floor. "Yes, you're
sick... you're a sick faggot pervert, that's what you are", he replied.

I looked up at him, startled by his unexpected aggressiveness. To my
horror, I saw him unzipping his old, grimy overall down to his crotch. I
could see his stained, grinning teeth as he fished out a half-hard cock and
stroked it a few times, quickly making it fully erect. It wasn't huge,
probably 18cm [7"], but it was an ugly cock that fitted him well, with
bulging veins all around the thick shaft and a large pointy knob half
covered in foreskin.

I felt my stomach churning again at the whole ugly, grubby sight and the
bleak realisation that my suffering in that long, horrible day was not over
yet. I turned my face into the toilet bowl and threw up again.

I had hardly regained my breath when I felt him on top of me, grunting and
breathing heavily. His harsh hands moved frantically, sliding my shirt up
and pushing my trousers and underwear down my meaty thighs.

Seeing my battered arse-cheeks, he laughed. "Those two bastards worked you
over good", he chuckled, giving my burning cheek a mean slap that made me
yelp in pain. "It's a good thing they left you here all nice and hot
waiting for old Raul to come and fuck you some more. There's never enough
cock to satisfy you horny faggot sluts, is there?"

I didn't even try to struggle against him. Hours of repeated abuse and
beatings had persuaded me that resigning myself to my fate was the only way
to avoid worse pain and suffering. Sensing my docility, he quickly pulled
me to my knees, my upper torso still resting on the side of the bowl, and
worked his erect cock between my legs. As soon as his big cockhead made
contact with my puffy arse-lips, he rammed his whole shaft into my
agonisingly swollen colon. I yelled from the searing pain, but submitted
meekly to his brutal assault. I even made an effort to tighten my aching
rectum around his cock, having learned that pleasing my rapists was the
only way I could hope to shorten my torment.

He let out a loud, animal growl as he felt my burning, slimy pussy snap
tight around his cock. "You like that cock up your tight cunt, don't you
bitch?" he grunted, "I may be too ugly for women, but any man is good
enough for filthy faggots like you. You're a lucky little slut: old Raul
has been saving a huge load of slime in his balls, just waiting for a nasty
whore like you to come around".

His face was right next to mine as he humped vigorously into me. I felt
another heave in my stomach just from smelling his putrid breath. By
comparison, it made the sergeant's stinking mouth smell like roses. To make
it worse, he turned my face towards him and pressed his dry lips over my
mouth. I could taste the cheap cigarettes and bad brandy as he worked his
tongue around, ravaging my mouth with it. I am sure he could taste the
stale piss and cum that I had just puked, but that seemed not to bother him
at all as he hungrily devoured my soft lips and my wet mouth, with the same
frantic enthusiasm with which he raped my arse.

He only broke our embrace a couple of times, holding my face in front of
his eyes, to admire the pretty thing he had come upon his lucky day. He
would press his fingers on the sides of my mouth, forcing me to open it,
then spit inside, asserting his power over me. I had no choice but to
accept his nasty spit, the same as I had to welcome his rank mouth when he
resumed his avid kissing.

Fortunately, he wasn't intent on our "love-making" to last long. He fucked
me like an eager teenager, raping me with pent up frustration until at last
he started to grunt into my mouth. True to his promise, he must have
ejaculated inside me eight or nine times, forcefully slamming his pelvis
against my excruciatingly sensitive arse-cheeks with every time his semen
gushed out.

I stood still in my awkward position as he regained his breath. He kissed
me and spit into my mouth one last time, then got up and nudged me roughly
with his boot. "Get the fuck out of here, you filthy little pervert", he
ordered.

Only too eager to escape that place of torment, I hastily pulled my briefs
and trousers over my aching buttocks, picked up my bag and ran out the
door, trying the best I could to clench my bloated arse-ring tight to
retain inside the huge load of semen he had just filled me with.

As I walked out of the station, I realised it was past midnight and I had
missed the last bus home. I had no money to pay for a taxi, but in my poor
condition, the 40-minute walk home was not an option. I headed to the taxi
line hoping to talk one of the drivers into taking me home and then waiting
for me to get the money to pay him.

The taxi line was another spot of very gruesome memories to me, but I had
no choice. The last time I had taken a taxi there, I had ended up raped in
the woods by three taxi drivers (#25-26). There were five or six taxis
parked outside, but the drivers were chatting and smoking on the sidewalk.

Seeing their surprised and half-disgusted looks as I approached them, I
realised that my grimy look was definitely a drawback to try to convince
them to take me home and having to wait for the money. I explained my
situation, but they seemed much more amused by my predicament than in
anyway sympathetic.

They asked me how I had ended up in that condition, and I made up some
story about having been bullied by older boys at school. It was plausible,
but they didn't take long to see through it. "If you ask me, he looks more
like he's one of those faggots that sell their queer pussies around the
station", one of them snapped. I must've blushed purple, betraying myself,
because they all started laughing. "Is that it, boy? Are you a fag little
whore that got what he deserves?" another one asked. Very candidly, I
replied "No, I wish I'd been selling my arse around, at least I would have
money for the taxi".

They all laughed heartily at my response, but none seemed at all interested
in taking me. "I have nothing against driving fags, as long as they
pay. But I don't want my car all dirty", one of them said, and a couple
more agreed with him. By then, I was getting desperate and already had
tears running down my face.

At last, one of them came forward, a short and stocky man, with a white
shirt open down to his hairy belly and an unshaven face. He probably was in
his early forties, though he looked older. "I'll take you, fag. But you
have to pay up front..." he said, with a wicked sneer. The others laughed
at his announcement, and at my puzzled, naïve gaze. "But I told you I don't
have any money..." I started, but stopped when I saw him signal me to
follow him into a dark corner, behind the station's smelly waste
dumpsters. "Yeah, the fag is going to pay the only way he knows" one of the
other drivers chuckled.

I followed the burly driver to the dark corner, but the dumpsters hardly
shielded us from sight. I still felt a tinge of embarrassment as I realised
that the other drivers could probably see what would happen, though they
obviously knew what I was going to have to do.

My driver leaned against the peeling wall behind him and opened his
trousers. He pulled out a short, stubby cock, 14 cm [5 1/2"] long. I was
relieved to see that he wasn't hung big.

"Suck me off, bitch", he commanded, "And make sure you do a good job, if
you want to get home".

I laid down my school-bag to protect my knees and knelt over it, holding on
to his hairy, stocky legs. The musky smell of his crotch immediately filled
my nostrils, and for a moment, I shivered in horror at the thought that I
might throw up again, right at his feet. I was determined to give him the
best blow-job I could, knowing I needed to make him happy so he would take
me home, and also hoping to avoid that he decided to fuck my worn out arse.

Ignoring his command, I first concentrated on his balls. They were hairy
and large, in fact a little out of proportion with his merely average
shaft. I licked his big orbs, diligently sucking them in and out of my wet
mouth. The pungent taste of stale crotch-sweat filled my mouth, but I
managed to concentrate on my task and drive from my mind the abject
degradation I was again having to endure.

At the same time, my little hand was gently jerking his cock, and I could
already feel it throbbing, hungry for my mouth. He let me suckle on his
sweaty ball-sack for a while, pleased by my initiative. I soon had him
moaning and cursing. "Oh fuck yes, you little whore, you really know how to
turn a man on, don't you? Suck those big nuts and warm up the big load of
cum I got there for you. This is what you're good for. You faggots were
born for this, to be on your knees, pleasing a man."

After a few minutes of slurping and licking on his balls, I felt a grip on
my hair and knew it was time to move to his cock. I slid my wet tongue
along his shaft, then curled it around his cockhead. The gland was covered
by the foreskin, with only the tip sticking out. I licked a small dollop of
natural lube from his piss slit. It was salty and I could sense the
recognizable taste of stale urine mixed in it.

I slid my fingers down along the shaft, gently pulling back the
foreskin. The cheesy stench of unwashed cock made me wince away in disgust,
and my stomach convulsed again. He noticed my revulsion and laughed. "Yes,
it's nice and ripe for you, faggot. You love that strong taste of male
cock, don't you?"

I knew there was only one reply I could give to that. I braced myself and
slid his cock into my mouth, effortlessly reaching the base of the shaft
with my lips. Again, I felt an expert ease at dealing with his relatively
short penis, after having had to deepthroat much bigger cocks. As my nose
buried itself on his crotch hair, the strong musky stink invaded my
nostrils again.

The pressure of his hand on the back of my head held my face against his
crotch, as his cockhead slid in and out of my gorge. I let myself gag a
couple of times, knowing it would make him feel more powerful and the
contraction of my throat would give his cock an additional stimulation, but
I was actually in control of my breath and easily regained the
initiative. Fortunately, he was happy to let me do my job and enjoy my
experienced licking and sucking, instead of roughly fucking my mouth like
so many other men did.

When I felt the familiar salty taste of precum I knew I was close to
success and redoubled my efforts. He was now moaning and mumbling,
surrendered to the pleasures of my cocksucker abilities, and I knew he
wouldn't resist much longer.

My taxi driver was a quiet cummer. A soft groan and a stronger clasp on my
hair was all the warning I had before I felt, and tasted, a strong gush of
warm semen filling my mouth. I hardly had time to gulp it down, so I could
keep up with the rapid succession of spurts that rushed over my tongue on
their way to my stomach. His throws of pleasure eventually stopped, as his
orgasm had now subsided to a dribble of seminal fluid that I still kept
licking dutifully.

"You're a hell of a cocksucker, little bitch" he said, as a show of
appreciation. Then he just tucked his cock back in his trousers, calmly lit
a cigarette and headed back to the taxi line. I got up hurriedly, without
even cleaning the excess spit and sperm that drooled from my lips, and ran
after him, scared that he might not be respecting his side of our bargain.

If the other drivers had any doubts about the reason of our little escapade
behind the dumpsters, my panting, drooling face would certainly reassure
them. The group had swollen to close to a dozen men, as a few more taxis
had incorporated the line. The newcomers had surely been updated on the
events and I saw them all laugh as I approached my driver and looked at him
pleadingly, while he pretended to ignore me. "Please, Sir, will you take me
home now?" I begged.

He puffed on his cigarette and looked down at me with a mischievous
grin. "Of course, that was our deal. But I can't have you in my car with
those filthy clothes, can I?" he replied, bringing out a couple of amused
chuckles of his partners. "But... I have nothing else to wear..." I sobbed,
starting to despair. He was silent for a moment, pretending to reflect,
then announced his solution to the problem: "You will just have to take
them off, then. No one will see you inside the taxi anyway..."

My first reaction was shock, the second was resignation. He leaned on the
side of his car, while the other drivers all stared at me, with big wicked
grins on their faces. "looks like the little whore is getting shy now...",
of them said. "Yes, maybe he needs us to give him a hand and rip his filthy
rags off," another added.

I knew I had no choice. With fresh tears in my eyes, I started to strip off
my muddy clothes, looking around nervously in case someone else would come
out of the station and see me in that disgraceful situation. Finally, I had
nothing on but my sneakers and my once-white briefs. I looked at the
driver, pleading silently to be allowed to keep my undies and be spared
that last humiliation. He just stared back at me, silently, letting me know
that my disgrace wasn't yet complete. The other drivers started chanting as
if they were watching some strip show, adding fuel to the fire of my
embarrassment: "Take it off! Take it off!"

"Make it slow, the boys seem to be enjoying the show" my self-selected
driver sniggered. With a deep, painful sob, I finally lowered my briefs and
bared my fat, bruised arse-cheeks and my little boyish prick to their
amused stares and their merciless laughter and cat-whistles. "Looks like
the little pervert has been getting the punishment he deserves", one of
them commented, seeing the evidence of the successive spankings on my
purple cheeks.

As I bent down to pick up my pathetic bundle of clothes, I inadvertently
gave the men a full view of my spread arse-crack and my puffy arse-lips. It
was greeted with a few more cat-whistles. "Look at that cunt! Maybe we
should all take him behind the dumpsters and have some fun!" I heard,
feeling a cold shiver down my spine at that horrible prospect.

"Please, let me in the taxi, PLEASE!" I begged the driver again, starting
to cry convulsively. My obvious anguish didn't seem to move him, as he
remained leaning against his car, keeping the door to my salvation
mercilessly closed. "I think I changed my mind..." he started, to my utter
horror. "PLEASE, YOU PROMISED, YOU PROMISED!" I screamed
hysterically. "Calm down, boy. You didn't let me finish", he replied coolly
"I was saying I changed my mind about your briefs: I think you should put
them back on. No one wants to see that fat bitch arse or your pathetic
little dick." There was another round of laughter as the driver again
teased me in my total despair.

Of course, this meant that I had to bend down to put my bundle of clothes
back on the floor, sort out my soiled undies, slip them on, and again pick
up my clothes from the floor. Each time I bent down, fully displaying my
big, round arse, I was offered a fresh round of cat-whistles and dirty
comments from the group of laughing taxi drivers.

At last, with tears running down my face, I saw him open the door and
signal me to the front passenger seat. He could have let me go in the back
seat, but I was far too anxious to get into the car to even worry about
that.