Date: Thu, 9 Feb 2017 06:28:29 -0500
From: Bear Pup <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Turntable Rehabilitation Services - Chapter 3

Please see original story for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All
fiction. All rights reserved. Included dominant/submissive and occasionally
coercive sex between men. Includes **BLASPHEMY**. Go away if any of that is
against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if
you like but I will write you into the nasty bits of a future story if you
flame me. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

*****

I explode cum across the sodden sheets, the piss-soaked gown, my face and
hair, my cock and balls. Ian keeps directing my erupting cock back and
forth to paint every part of me. I scream in release, I'll admit it, I
scream in ecstasy and fulfilment and satisfaction. Fuck the world. Fuck the
preconceptions. Fuck the people who never felt this! I am in heaven and
long to give it to others. It is then that I crash back to myself. I weep
and cry when I realised that guys have forced me to piss myself; that
amazingly hot and lusty guys have brought me to the greatest orgasm of my
life; that nothing I've ever believed was... real?

*****
Turntable Rehabilitation Services - Chapter 3: What is Truth?
By Bear Pup

M/M, M/M/M; piss; cum; dissonance

I begin to come down, but the men alongside the bed do not move. As my
breathing evens, I see six predatory looks, six men ready to take me to
task, six men ready to... OMG! OMG! SIX men ready to USE ME! Oh, please,
God, let me die before that. Please! I try to scream and nothing comes out;
my rising panic robs me of my own voice.

"I am Top Toy." The sudden voice makes me look up just in time to get a
mouth- and face-full of acrid piss. I spit and shudder, but he is
relentless. When I finally quiet, he douses my head and hair, then my
pillow then my neck before his stream slackens. I weep but the piss washes
away my tears. When his stream is elsewhere, I look up at the ceiling,
watching that ceiling faggot get doused in piss. The fucker is STILL hard!
What a pathetic creature.

A thick Spanish accent comes next, "I am Afeitar," says the eerily-shaved
man. No hair anywhere that I can see, not even the fine hair on the wrist
holding his impressive, uncut dick. I throw my head back so as not to see
that thick hose start to spray piss across my chest. I open my eyes and
watch the squirming faggot strapped to that gurney. His cock is so hard
it's red! The Spaniard's foreskin causes him to spray and splash, but he
does make sure that at least some hits the queer little fuck full in the
face. I can't believe it, but the disgusting pervert licks his lips before
his stream slackens. My mouth must have been open slightly as I can taste
the strange, salty liquid.

"I'm Kodiak." Huh, perfect name for this massive bear of a man. Where the
last one was smoother than any new-born babe, this man has a thick mat of
brown fur. His dick is the type I'd normally call a fireplug, if I ever
looked at cocks which I never have or will. I watch him coax it and close
my eyes. His stream hits right on my engorged cockhead and I gasp at the
warm, wet, pulsing pressure. The torrent is wide and voluminous.

He then makes sure to piss all the way to my locked feet before coming back
up and aiming exclusively for my tender balls. I can't take it anymore and
look up. The faggot on the ceiling is actually writhing around, trying to
get more piss in more places. I can't wait to get that to teach one a
lesson, wallowing in piss and so hard he can barely stand the hot and
filthy urine streaming over his balls and soaking the sheet between his
legs.

"Isicubu!" The massive black man has muscles on his muscles. His voice is
deep and he pounds a huge fist into his massive and oiled ebony pecs. He is
uncut as well, but has pulled back the blue-black foreskin to expose the
head. I squeeze my eyes shut. His stream erupts with a massive force that
is like a slap in my balls. Like the lumberjack, I feel him dousing my
legs. I look at the pussyboy on the ceiling just as the massive negro stud
aims back up.

The man is now focusing his intense and narrow stream on the fag's cockhead
and I watch as that flamer's eyes go wide and head goes back, in obvious
ecstasy as the piss pounds down on his torturously-sensitive glans. What a
pathetic worm. I hope these studs never let the fucker cum. He doesn't even
deserve balls, much less an orgasm, even one as humiliating as being
brought off by the force of a nigger's piss. That hard, intense stream has
the filthy fucker right on the edge before the coon stops and I watch as
the faggot squirms to coat more of his body in the combined piss-loads of
four studs... so far.

"I am Conran." The Asian man's whip-chord muscles and impenetrable dark
eyes glitter in the sterile hospital light. I look down and see a dick that
looks exactly like a boa constrictor. The head is wide and
tightly-tapered. Where a snake would have an eye-ridge, this 'snake'
stretches over the flared tip of his sheathed penis, and a longish, tapered
foreskin comes to a point almost an inch further out. It is tattooed and I
cringe at the thought of needles in my cock. A pattern in browns, green and
black reinforces the reptilian appearance of his prodigious prick. I am
mesmerised as a tongue of piss lashes out, coating my side and abdomen is a
silky, bright-yellow stream.

I look back to the fucking little queer boy on the ceiling. A tight Asian
stud is painting calligraphic characters the fag's torso. I don't read
degenerate languages like the thousands from the far east, But I hope he is
writing something like, 'I am a bitch. I am a pussy. Take me. Use
Me. Dispose of me.' And that pathetic faggot looks blissful at his utter
degradation.

And now that fucking sinister voice returns, "And I think you know Ian?" I
look up and to the right at the deaf-mute and shudder. I feel Top Toy's
hands suddenly lock my face in place. I can move my eyes and nothing
else. I can see Ian and his cock. If I turn my eyes just a bit, I can watch
a faggot held immobile by a massive man with dark skin, perhaps
black. Perhaps Hawaiian? I can't bear to think of what Ian might do to me,
so I lock my eyes on the pervert portrayed above me.

A long, hard, thick dick slowly moves to the fag's lips and I watch as he
almost tries to kiss it. Disgusting. Filthy. Suddenly I taste piss and try
to pull back, horrified and sickened as I watch the ceiling-faggot suckle
and nurse. I can tell he's drinking that fucking piss! Little bits dribble
out when he swallows, *swallows*! I watch the other four men resume the
motions from earlier, teasing and exciting the faggot's purposeless dick
and balls.

I moan as I feel the tormenters tease and excite my own cock. I will never,
NEVER give them the satisfaction. I watch as the deaf man I can see from
above pisses straight down the pervert's throat as he writhes and
bucks. The tied-up queer is moving like he's trying to fuck the air,
wallowing in the piss, drinking more, getting off on all of it. Suddenly,
it is too much, too late, too perfect.

I watch the faggot on the ceiling shoot in a rapturous orgasm that shakes
his entire body. I feel my own orgasm dragged from me by my real tormenters
at the same time. I scream around the flow of piss, making a sound like a
rutting bull being drowned. The pervert on the ceiling just goes ape-shit,
throwing his body around in his bonds in pure exultant pleasure wracks
every muscle. He is gargling around that big dick, sputtering up piss and
still, *still* trying to coax another drop from the stud standing over him.

I watch as the pathetic little queen starts to cry as his toy is pulled
back.

"I am Top Toy." I jump at the sudden sound and turn to look. Top Toy is so
hard his mutant-huge cock is shining with dogwater. He reaches down and
begins to slowly, deliberately frig himself right in my face. I pull back
in abject horror, then look up at the ceiling. A faggot's hot eyes bore
into mine. I can see his need as his attention returns to the monster cock
being pleasured by the Hawaiian? black? man to his left, right at eye
level.

It is a slow fire being built, and Top Toy takes his time, occasionally
bending forward to wipe some of his pre onto the cheek and forehead of the
urine-soaked creature lying at his mercy. I can see the massive man's chest
and abs start to ripple as he finds his pace and rhythm. Perhaps three
minutes elapse and suddenly I lock eyes with the Top Toy servicing the
faggot when he throws his head back and begins to shoot. Cum rains down on
the pervert's face.

I jerk at my bonds when one of that bucking monster's splashes lands
straight in my eye. It stings like all hell. I look up and see the queen is
in even worse shape. Ropes of cum paint his face, his right eye, his nose
and mouth. I can't help but see his diseased tongue dart out and taste some
of the giant's copious load. Some of the tormenter's own semen must have
hit my mouth as I breathed as I can taste his salty, creamy, slight-sweet
ejaculate. I watch as Ceiling Top Toy pulls back, smiling and satisfied and
I feel the real Top Toy's huge body move away from my face.

"I am Afeitar," from the left. From the right, "I am Conran." My soul pulls
back in disgust as what they plan and I fall back to watching the torment
of the useless filth on the ceiling as the Asian and Spanish studs start to
move. They are both rampant and ready. The too-tight foreskin at the nose
of the Asian serpent just barely allows a hint of the magenta glans, but
the Spaniard's plump head is completely free of his own sheath.

I want to puke as I find that these two are faggots no better than the one
they are humiliating. They reach across and begin to pleasure each other,
directly over the cock of the vermin tied to the bed. I refocus on that
piece of trash, watching as he continues to twist and squirm in the
piss-drenched bed. I can see puddle of the stuff when he moves. He is
smiling, covered in the giant's dick-snot that is slowly dripping across
his face. How can anyone allow such degradation and shame and still live?
What a pig, slut, filthy, degenerate garbage.

I watch the two fag-studs. I know they're no better than the pervert to
whom they are teaching a well-deserved lesson, but they still have the
bodies and cocks of men. I can't help but admire the ink-art on the Asian
cock as the so-smooth Spaniard lovingly caresses it. In return, his own
thick and meaty sheath is manipulated with a firm and sensuous grace by the
snake's owner. They throw their heads back and I catch one's eyes and then
the other's. Both are dark pools, one set sensuous and one set inscrutable.
I watch as they paint the faggot's cock with their combined loads, first
the swarthy one with a thick and oozing stream, then the snake begins to
spit fierce, short, powerful and fast ejections of semen.

I can feel a flood of warm slime from one side and a tattoo of steamy,
creamy blasts from the other as the two real tormenters erupt on my
cock. At least I'm not hard like the queer on the ceiling, I think. I look
down to the mirror at the foot of the bed and see that I am not only hard,
each throb of my own traitorous dick drips a little more of their nasty gay
jism into my bush on onto my balls. I watch a bead slimes it's way south,
the churning of one ball in my sac changing and slowing its descent toward
my taint.

I throw myself back and watch the ceiling-fag. The Asian and the Spaniard
swap places with the lumberjack and the spear-chucker. Both are rampant and
randy, and a study in sharp contrasts. Both are huge, but the blue-black of
the nigger dick and the pale and creamy prick of the lumberjack clash
brilliantly.

"Kodiak!"

"Isicubu!"

At least these are real men. They don't touch or even look at each
other. They both sneer at the piece of filth that they have beneath
them. The incomparable muscles of the ebony stud ripple as he pleasures
himself. The fur on the lumberjack moves in waves. He is one of those who
uses his whole body to jack off, his furry ass and abs thrusting him
forward into the love-tunnel he's made with two hands. And he needs both to
encircle the prick. I can see his chest flex and shoulders roll as he fucks
his hands right about the useless little queen's bollocks.

The African, though, is no less active and no subtler. He keeps switching
hands and changing grips. You can see from the glimpses of his face when he
looks up that he is maximising his pleasure and, as is appropriate, has no
use or regard for the pussy-boy lying beneath him. I look and can see the
hunger and need on the ceiling-fag's countenance. More ropes of Ceiling Top
Toy's cum are slowly liquefying, making his face look gross and slimy, also
intensely appropriate.

Where the Asian and Spaniard were stoic, the lumberjack and nigger are loud
and vocal. Calling out well-deserved epithets at the creature wallowing in
his own and others' urine, they groan and grunt as they approach their
peaks. I cannot understand a word the coon is babbling, but the meaning is
clear. He is a man and the faggot is nothing.

The nigger erupts first, like some animal, each one of the freakishly-huge
muscles in sharp relief, every crease and seam and gnarly vein not only
visible, but carved and etched. You can count the tendons in his shoulders,
the cords in his neck, the striations in his abs. The lumberjack is
next. His bellow is an elk in rut, deep and powerful and utterly
masculine. Both aim their copious loads at the balls of the pussy strapped
to the bed. The little queer just hunches and wriggles to get more of that
cum into every crevice and fold of his diseased crotch.

As they taper off and return to their original places, I am startled by a
deep and inarticulate sound above me and to the right.

"Ah An Eee-Yan." The voice is shocking. Ian is deaf, but actually can
speak. I am floored and lay there with my mouth open. That lasts a few
seconds as Top Toy's hands again lock my head in place and Ian's cock moves
toward my mouth.

I struggle futilely then surrender and look at the Ceiling Faggot. He has
none of the natural, normal compunctions I do, that filthy little queer. He
leans *into* that dick. I feel it touch my lips, revolted, but keep my
attention on the ceiling. I feel the other four tormenters start to use the
invisible teasers on my cock and smile. Nothing, NOTHING could bring me to
another orgasm. I am done, spent, drained, finished.

I look, amazed, as the boy on the ceiling suckles and nurses that cock,
then watch as he swallows over and over, trying to get it into his
throat. I fight the intrusion of Ian, fight his every thrust and push, but
know it is a losing battle so I return my attention upward.

The little pussy is relishing, *loving* the prick assaulting him. I pray
that they will finally give this useless piece of trash what he deserves: a
long and brutal session with a real man that will leave him whimpering and
pleading for death. I endure the thrusting of the prick in my mouth and
watch as the ceiling guy tries to capture more and more.

The men on either side, with their nearly-invisible rods, tease the faggot
mercilessly. He redoubles his efforts to consume the deaf man's prick,
hunching his own hip against the implements they hold. I loathe the dick
that I am forced to service, but relish the humiliation of the faggot on
the ceiling. He wallows in piss; he is covered in cum; his face shines and
glints with the load with which Top Toy had painted his face and lip; a sea
of sperm engulf his rampant and useless prick. And he wants MORE.

What a freak. What a pussy. I watch, amazed, as he continues to debase
himself for these guys, and especially for the deaf stud who gradually
moves closer and starts to throat-fuck the helpless but deliriously-pleased
fag. Deep, long strokes and the diseased creature wants still more. I gag
and fight as Ian pushes into me, but stare mesmerised as Ceiling Ian slides
smoothly and lovingly into the needy and waiting throat of the faggot.

I see the signs. Ceiling Queen starts to thrust and squirm. The guys
increase their attentions with those near-invisible prods, tantalising and
teasing and enticing the little queer. He goes further and further into
heat as I watch, disgusted and appalled. The real Ian keeps trying,
unsuccessfully of course, to drive deep into my throat as the fag whines
and begs for more, taking every inch.

With an abruptness I'd never seen, the faggot begins his own squealing and
humiliating climax, writhing and wriggling in the urine-soaked bed, cock in
his mouth and men to either side. What a pussy and useless excuse for a
man. Ceiling Ian begins to flood the queer's throat just as I feel the real
Ian unload in my own mouth. I long to spit and choke on the load but he is
too far down my throat to know or care. I swallow, crying and despairing of
what these villains have done to me, feeling my balls churn and cock twitch
in impending eruption.

The faggot, on the other hand, clearly relishes every thrust, spurt and
eruption, sucking more and more out of the dick that violates him. The boy
on the ceiling, like the complete fucking faggot he is, climaxes as the
Ceiling Ian unloads into him. What a pathetic excuse for the human.

I feel my own climax erupts as the tormenters tease and prod my dick. I
lose it, grunting and crying with release. I had sworn to myself that I
would not shoot again under any circumstance, but I had not counted on the
delicious torment they are bringing to bear. I ride the wave as I watch the
pathetic queer squeak and squeal, shooting rope after rope of cum onto his
own piss-soaked body.

I slowly recover from the mind-warping orgasm. As my vision clears, I
notice that the six guys are gone, both from my own bedside and that of the
ceiling faggot. Mr Sinister walks into my field of view and that of the
video above me.

"You enjoyed that."

"NO! You fucking queer! I hated it! You will NEVER make me like you!"

"Okay, so the guy on the ceiling liked it?"

"Yes, but he's some pathetic, useless faggot."

"You're right, in a way. He has a name, you know. Can you guess it?"

"Why the fuck would I care what that disgusting piece of trash calls
himself?"

"It's always good to a name for something, don't you think? And the guy on
the ceiling is going to be around for a while. His name is Pee-Pee Boy."

I smile. What a fucking perfect name for that useless filth. Ha! Pee-Pee
Boy! I chuckle then laugh out loud, watching the faggot squirm in his
piss-filled bed, cum dripping off him from where he's been hosed down by
those studs. Semen leaking from his chin where Ceiling Ian dripped as he
pulled out. I can't help laughing and laughing as he squirms up
there. Disgusting!

"Interesting. Very interesting." He holds up a shiny coin. "Damian, watch
Pee-Pee Boy closely for a moment." I look up at the pathetic little
queer. The sinister fucker lets the light shine off the coin for a moment,
holding it above Pee-Pee Boy's stomach. I watch the coin drop and feel it,
cold and hard, fall with a squelch onto my own cum-slimed belly.

"It's a mirror, Damian. That guy is you. His body is your body. His
reactions are your reactions. His orgasms are yours. And you know it,
Damian."

I scream and fight against the restraints, watching the Ceiling Faggot,
Pee-Pee Boy, move in sync to my own fight. I scream and cry and deny, but
he's right. Everything I see and saw, every squirm of the faggot and every
ripple of pleasure of that queer... is and was me.

I am... undone. Destroyed. Deconstructed. Devastated.  I can't look
anywhere but the mournful and needy eyes of the man on the ceiling... the
mournful and needy eyes of Pee-Pee Boy... the mournful and needy eyes of my
reflection. I scream in negation and denial, but cannot ignore what I
see. I weep and mourn my former self. He, I think of him in those terms, is
gone now, dissolved and eliminated.

"Oh, by the way, Damian is the name for a human and a name for a man. You
don't deserve that any more. From this point forward, when we want you to
pay attention because we are discussing or directing or instructing you,
you will answer to the name, Pee-Pee Boy. Sleep well, Pee-Pee Boy, and may
your dreams be everything that you so richly deserve."

<eof>

Well that was intense. But what does it mean for Damian's --Pee-Pee Boy's
-- future? Three correspondents who shall remain nameless changed every
aspect of this chapter. Let me know what YOU think. What should happen to
him? Where should he end up?


Stories so far, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 11 chapters, more coming, .../camping/canvas-hell/
Karl & Greg: 14 chapters, more coming, .../incest/karl-and-greg/
The Heathens: 2 chapters, more coming, .../historical/the-heathens/
Beaux Thibodaux: 3 chapters, LOTS more coming, .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
Mud Lark Holler: 2 chapters, more coming, .../rural/mud-lark-holler
Turntable Rehab: 3 chapter, more coming, .../authoritarian/turntable-rehabilitation-services
Off the Magic Carpet: 1 chapter, not sure yet, .../military/off-the-magic-carpet
Temple Street: 5 chapters (on hiatus), .../authoritarian/temple-street/
Virtual Master: 1 story (not a series), .../authoritarian/virtual-master