I came to with a start.  My mind was immediately filled with what had happened.  Ryan had made me suck him and take his cock up the ass, and he'd manipulated me into doing it in front of my friends.  My team mates.  People I knew from school.  The horror washed over me, and I felt the tears welling up.  Instinctively, I raised my hand to my eyes, and then I remembered that I had been handcuffed but now I was unrestrained.

I sat up.  Dried cum covered my upper body.  Ryan was working at his desk.  He was still naked.  And hard.  Catching my movement out of the corner of his eye, he looked over at me.  "Hey, welcome back," he said.  It was tone he might use to greet a friend at an airport -- slightly pleasant and not up to his usual asshole standards.  It didn't affect my mood.

"Why?!  Why the fuck did you do that to me?!?" I demanded.  Anger was quickly catching up to grief for my lost dignity.

"Do what?  Fuck you in front of a party full of your friends?  I didn't.  All I did was ask what you'd think if I had.  I guess we both know the answer now, don't we?  It got you so fucking hot you shot for almost two minutes and it made you pass out."

I was shocked.  "What?  You didn't film me?  But I saw the light..."

"Oh, I did film you.  But I didn't give Russ an IP address to my webcam.  The film is for me."  He grinned smugly.  "The commentary was for you.  It's like the guy in the porn shop.  He didn't really know who you were, I just set it up so that you thought he did.  That, by the way, was pretty much a test for the whole fuck scene.  I wanted to see how humiliation turned you on."

"You fucking pervert!" I shouted.  "The guy in the porn shop knows who the fuck I am now, doesn't he!  And what the hell are you going to do with the film you made of me?!"

His face soured.  "Oh, grow up, Alex.  You don't think guys in porn shops know the people who buy from them?  He doesn't run a shop based on blackmail, he doesn't track down his customers and threaten to tell their mommy.  And, I told you, the film is for me.  But the way you're acting, maybe I ought to pass it around."

I stared at him.  There was no hope I'd ever figure out how his mind worked.  It's like he abused me and expected me to thank him for it.  I thought about getting up and beating the crap out of him.  He stared right back at me, and I saw his hand move.  I watched it as its fingers wrapped around the hard cock poking up from his lap.  He slowly began to stroke it, his eyes never leaving mine, my eyes never leaving his cock.  I watched his hand move, and it was like the stereotypical pocket watch in the hands of a hypnotist.  I felt my pulse quicken and my cock stir.  I looked up at him, and met his half-hooded gaze.  There was something about the way his eyelids relaxed when he was horny that made his face seem completely raunchy.  When the look combined with his arrogant smirk, the one creeping across his face as he took in the signs of my growing lust, it was like an aphrodisiac.

"I came in your ass, but you had passed out, Alex," he taunted.  He lightly bit his lower lip between his teeth and started rocking his hips up and down in the desk chair while he rubbed his fingertips along the underside of his erect dick.  "I could do it again now that you're awake, if you want."  I drew in a ragged breath as my eyes wandered from his face down his scrawny torso to his cock and back up.  I could feel my cock throbbing again.  "Come here," he invited.  "Let me show you this movie.  I'll even let you sit in my lap."

I stared at his cock, and I realized my mouth was watering.  I swallowed deliberately.  I felt myself stand like a zombie or a sleepwalker and seconds I was standing at his side.  He maintained his observation of my facial reactions as I moved to him, and my attention never left his crotch.  I could see the gleam of precum on the tip of his head as he continued to caress himself lightly.  Under my gaze, a pearl bubbled up through its lips and I subconsciously licked my lips.

"Do you want to taste it, Alex?"  I nodded; he smiled.  "You want to taste my cum?"  I nodded again.  "What?" he coaxed.

"I want to taste your cum, Sir," I said mechanically.

He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me until I was standing, facing the computer, between his knees as he sat in the chair.  He slipped two fingers into my hole and I released a hoarse sigh.  His fingers rotated around inside my ass, and I felt them massaging just inside me.  He would slide them in and out about an inch and spread them out, using his fingertips to probe every fold of my rectum.  After a few minutes, I could feel precum oozing out of my own cock, and I felt him gently pull my hips back with the other hand.

He slipped his fingers free just as his cock head lined up to my hole, and then using both hands, he guided me down onto it.  The cum from his previous load, which he had smeared over my ass lips while he fingered me, helped lubricate his entry.  I threw my head back and moaned, closing my eyes, while he continued lowering me until I sat on his thighs and his cock was buried deep inside me.  I shuddered, then felt his fingers at my mouth.

"Taste my cum, Alex," he whispered softly as he rested his fingers, cum-slicked from my ass, on my tongue.  I closed my mouth and began to suck and lick his two fingers like I had learned to suck his cock.  I kept mouthing them even after the last trace of cum had been slurped down.  With his other hand, Ryan clicked a few buttons on the computer's mouse and I heard the opening dialog of our return to his bedroom earlier that evening.  "Do you want me to fuck you, Alex?" the computer asked.

"Oh, God yes," I whispered over my recorded reply.  I opened my eyes and looked at the monitor.  Ryan withdrew his hand and placed one on each of my hips.  He leaned over to watch the movie with me from behind, and I found myself slowly rocking up and down on his cock, no more than two inches up before sitting back down on his lap.  I watched myself lying on Ryan's bed, shaved, cuffed, straddled, his balls in my mouth, the action of my suction and tongue work clear as my cheeks hollowed and jaw moved.  The quality of the recording was impeccable; no one who saw it would have any doubt as to the identities of the players or the actions they were performing.

As Ryan on-screen plucked his scrotum from my mouth, Ryan behind me had become satisfied with the slow pace with which I was fucking myself up and down on his rod.  His hands left my hips and began lightly stroking up my tummy to my abs, and up further over my pecs.  As his image began fucking my face, and the speakers replayed my gagging, the forefinger and thumb of each hand clamped onto the tips of my nipples.  I cried out and began writhing on his cock, losing my relaxed rhythm.  Ryan behind me grunted like a rutting beast and started rocking his own hips under my squirming ass.

When the monitor displayed Ryan resuming his familiar short-strokes in my mouth, he released my nipples and, grabbing my shoulders, pulled me back tightly against his chest.  His hips were thrusting hard now, and I was rocking up and down a good four or five inches.  Each trip down to his lap would rake his cock along that spot in my ass, right behind the root of my cock.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," I whimpered.  "What the hell is that?"

"It's your prostate," he gutturally replied, never losing his stroke.

"Oh, God, it feels so fucking good!"  A short cry burst past my larynx each time his cock hit that spot.  I quickened my pace and had shortened my rise and fall so that his cock only slipped in and out an inch -- so that each stroke rammed back and forth over my prostate.  One of my hands was fisting my cock and the other tightly clutched my balls, like I was afraid they'd fall off or disappear inside my abdomen forever.  Ryan grabbed my wrists, and again with strength that would have surprised me if I'd cared to think about it, pulled my hands away.  Holding mine, he wrapped his own hands around my chest so that we both embraced my torso.

Sweat poured from my brow and covered my chest and legs, my thighs and calves burned with the effort of continuously impaling my ass on his shaft.  We watched him fuck me, I heard him ask me those mind-fucking questions about Russ. "...watch my bedroom on my webcam?" the computer asked.  I saw my panic, I heard my primative scream, I watched in disbelief as my cock on-screen erupted with jet after jet of semen, shots hitting my face, my chest, and leaving a practically unbroken line of slime from my left eye to my navel.

I felt my balls boil; no one was touching them.  I felt my cock spasm; no one was stroking it.  As I watched myself lose consciousness on the monitor as Ryan's recorded laugh echoed, I began to shoot.  I felt every muscle in my body clench, but somehow I forced myself to continue my fucking and to keep my eyes on the screen.  Within seconds of my blackout, I saw Ryan's asschecks tighten on-screen and heard him yell lustfully through a gaping mouth.  His thrusting never stopped, not on camera, not under my ass.  As I watched him fuck out an orgasm as long as my own, I felt his cum spurting into me.  My own orgasm, in real-time, was milking his cock as my asshole clamped and quivered around his shaft; as I continued to fuck his knob against my prostate, his spunk was oozing out between my ass lips.

I don't know how long we came, long after the movie had stopped on the computer.  I know that at some point, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto Ryan's lap.  He rested his head on my shoulder behind me, and I could tell by the wetness of his hair that he had been working as hard as I had.  We were panting to catch our breath when I felt him kissing along the back of my neck and shoulders.  I turned my head and, straining, our mouths met.  His tongue passed between my lips, and I welcomed it.

When he broke the kiss and pulled back, he was staring into my face, his eyes searching mine just as he had the previous night, after our first fuck.  I don't know what he saw there, but he smiled softly, void of any arrogance or condescension.  It was a warm smile, and then he turned his head and rested his chin on my shoulder as we settled back in the chair, his softening cock still rooted in my ass, both our arms loosely wrapped around me, and, exhausted, we fell asleep.