Date: Sun, 19 Jul 2020 14:13:21 +0100
From: Stu Hadley <stuhadley77@gmail.com>
Subject: Lockdown! - Chapter 11

Lockdown!
Chapter 11

These are difficult times and good erotica can help us get through the
next few weeks and months of isolation and social distancing. This
fantasy is how I wish I was spending lockdown...

Now, permanent changes take hold...

------

It was near dawn and Lee gently rested his juicy foreskin on Kris's
lips. He'd woken epically hard and now his thick cock perfectly lined up
with the bottom's sleeping mouth. He clenched his pelvic muscles whilst
slowly tugging his dick, forcing out a perfect droplet of precum onto the
cocksucker's waiting lips. The tangy nectar had its desired effect and
from then on everything moved in slow motion.

Although still asleep, Kris's hunger for cock was so deeply ingrained
that his mouth relaxed and his lips parted on reflex. It was all the cue
Lee needed and he pushed his ample, uncut, dick deep inside. The only
concession the top made to the hardness of his morning wood was gripping
his shaft at the base to ensure his foreskin completely peeled back. He
didn't want anything to come between the cocksucker and his dick. All he
had to do now was wait; wait for the bottom's natural instincts to
kick-in.

Kris's tongue woke first, suckling the big helmet and finding comfort in
the thick stream of pre-syrup flowing from its tip. Then there was a
sudden throat spasm, the bottom alarmed at the lack of air from the
inches of cock blocking his airways. Kris's eyes went wide and he
inhaled deeply through his nose, filling his lungs with the rich musk of
Lee's nighttime junk-funk.

Did the scent act as a pacifier? Or was it the weight of the thick slab
resting on his tongue that calmed him? Perhaps the combined taste of
salty sweat and sweet pre-sap flooding his mouth? Or did the sight of so
many thick inches of dick, pubes and tumbling balls filling his vision do
the trick? Either way, Kris's primeval instincts immediately swept it
in. His eyes smiled with real delight: it was time to wolf down that
fuckslab and milk the bull filling his mouth!

Some bottoms feel giving a blowjob is a chore, some tops think receiving
one mere foreplay. Not Lee and Kris though, their needs were tangled
together and perfectly in sync.

A thirst for cum, a love of worshipping big meat.

An insatiable need to spunk, an inexhaustible supply and an extreme
desire to weaponise cock for pleasure.

And, of course, the two shared an absolute love of fist.

The previous night's session had proved that: Lee cuntjacking inside of
Kris. It was a power-move and the bottom had a ring-side seat at the
destruction of his pussy, watching Lee's every facial expression as the
top slid both dick and fist inside his hole in one. The line between pain
and pleasure had been cruelly exposed as wafer thin, but Kris knew
exactly which side he was on. He'd urged the top on, moaning and crying,
desperately wanting Lee to spelunk in his cunt. He wanted this, needed
it... even if he was being wrecked. He found an insane calmness in the
madness, as if he'd found his purpose in life.

At the end, it was difficult to know who had the most extreme and joyous
relief. Lee emptying his giant sack with every ounce of cum his balls
could deliver? Or Kris with his pussygasm that shook every nerve ending
in his body? Either way, they'd shared it together, completely and
utterly. From this moment onwards Kris knew what his hole was truly
capable of and would never had a reason to say no. For Lee? Now he
understood there was a special category of man out there who could take
both dick and fist at the same time. Why accept anything less?

The session had ended with both men in a daze, although Lee was first to
react. He slowly withdrew his cock and hand, before helping Kris down
from the sling. This was tough as the bottom was still heavily secured in
the straitjacket that had helped set the scene so well, but Lee managed
to release Kris and let the heavy leather fall to the floor.

Slowly, gradually, they got ready for bed, quickly agreeing to use Lee's
bedroom so the sling didn't need to be dealt with there and then. Kris
climbed between the sheets first, exhausted by the experience but his
mind travelling in a thousand directions. What had they just done? Would
his hole ever be the same again? Was taking fist truly his real purpose
in life? Only the feel of Lee's muscular body wrapping round him made
him feel calm and secure. For the briefest of moments he debated saying
how good it was to be spending lockdown with a big-cocked, fist-hungry
and well-tempered stud. But as Lee squeezed hard, Kris realised the top
knew that already.

------

That was yesterday though. Today their hunger for pleasure was driving
them forward again. Lee had woken with a painfully urgent morning wood
and Kris lying beside him looked so seductive. He'd quietly slid out of
bed and walked round to the bottom's side. Luck was with him as Kris's
head was tilted towards the edge. It took mere seconds to seize the
moment, kneel down, and perfectly line his dick up.

Now the cock-hungry bottom was wide awake, fully alert and throat-impaled
on Lee's mammoth fuckslab. That meant it was time to reposition for
maximum effect. Kris knew exactly what he had to do, disengaging and
swinging his body round to perfectly place himself for deep mouth
penetration. He looked up to see Lee's cock standing erect and potent,
fully expectant of unloading a fresh load of spunk. Although upside down,
Kris also saw the tattoo that stood poised and purposeful to one side of
Lee's meat: the outline of a cocked rifle and the words `make every
shot count'. By now he'd seen it countless times, but every time he
marvelled at the confidence behind that ink.

Lee said `ready?' and the moment of adoration, hunger and delight
swiftly passed. The big-dicked top leant forward and threaded his cock
into Kris's waiting mouth, finding his target with ease. He knew the
bottom was warmed up so he had no hesitation in plunging the entire
length of his fuckpole down in one. Immediately he felt Kris struggle for
breathe, the bottom grabbing the top's thighs for balance and to push
back with. However, Lee knew the cocksucker's true capabilities and that
Kris wasn't afraid of his big dick. He started fucking with long, deep
strokes, easily matching the bottom's hunger for cock.

And so it went... both taking pleasure from each other and knowing exactly
what they were capable of. A bystander would have been hard pressed to
know who was in charge. Was Kris self-impaling his mouth on Lee's cock,
or was Lee forcing his dick inside Kris's throat? The truth was much
simpler. For the bottom, cock was more life-giving than being able to
breathe. He would happily impale himself to the point of almost passing
out, wanting to deliver as much pleasure as he could to the man being
gracious enough to fulfil his cock-hunger. For Lee though? He'd never
experienced such a rapacious throat, one that could take every thick inch
of his dick and not complain. In his horn he couldn't resist thrusting
harder, ever faster and more intense.

All this time Kris was beating his own meat - painfully hard - especially
when he was struggling to breath. That meant he just worked his throat
even more, letting Lee feel the full abilities of his throat muscles to
drive the top's orgasm forward. Lee squeezed the bottom's head hard
between his thighs, forcing his dick even deeper and felt the bottom
wildly gasp for air. He would give Kris exactly what he needed, fuck him!

Hell! Is there anything better than a cock spraying on your tonsils? Or
nutting so hard inside a mouth that you feel your cum blow back on your
meat? It was animalistic - violent even - but totally perfect.

As Lee spunked, Kris uncontrollably choked on the thick cum filling his
mouth. The top pulled back, grabbing his dick to keep the orgasm going
for as long as possible. Giant slugs of white jism ended up spraying
across Kris's face, just as the bottom came himself in an ecstatic arc
of jizz. He was drenched in man-spunk, a treasure trail of pearls from
head to crotch.

------

Lee paused to take it all in. He was spent and the room fetid with the
smell of sex, both men having built up an epic sweat as they chased their
desires. Early-morning sun shone through the window blinds, lockdown
London being blessed by gorgeous spring weather.

"How about it?" he asked, his tumescent dick still standing over the
cum-drunk bottom. "Let's get some fresh air, we're allowed out once a
day, right?"

Energised by the life-giving blow job, Kris didn't need any
encouragement. He swung himself off the bed--

"So long as you wear my cum" said Lee. Kris was shocked. Were the
top's eyes joking or deadly serious? He immediately knew what Lee was
asking: it was a full-frontal, balls-out challenge. Was Kris man enough
to wear Lee's cum on the streets? Was he confident enough to be
pussy-marked, even given how deserted the streets might be this early?

Fuck it! Kris immediately gambled: two can play at this game!

"No problems" Kris laughed. "As long as you wear my smallest cock-ring
and those tight grey sweat pants of yours." Kris left the words hanging.
He knew there was no way Lee could possibly acquiesce: what he was asking
was truly obscene. Lee was hung at the best of times, but for his dick to
be super-engorged by a too small cock-ring and then to be displayed in
exquisite detail by the top's figure hugging sweats? Lee would be
fucking jailbait! Almost as extreme as Kris going out drenched in cum!

Shit.

The supreme confidence sweeping Lee's face meant the bottom knew he'd
misjudged the situation. The top laughed and opened the door to Kris's
fetish library, expertly rummaging for the right size ring. He brazenly
held the thick metal up for inspection before forcing his junk through
the tight aperture. It was a squeeze, not least as his dick was still
heavy from the morning action, but he managed it. Barely pausing to take
in Kris's amazement, the top grabbed his over-tight sweat pants from the
floor and walked out of the room.

Kris was stunned, his game of high-stakes poker hadn't worked at all.
Going outdoors with cum dripping down his body now felt impossible to
escape without wussing out. He grabbed his own pair of shorts and put
them on, almost hobbling himself in the process. He tumbled out of the
room, picking up a tee on the way, still hoping he could at least wipe
off some of the cum saturating his face.

Lee stood in the hall waiting, now wearing his sweats. The top's junk
was obscenely on display through the thin, grey fabric. Nothing was left
to the imagination, the constricting cock-ring bringing everything to
sharp relief. Lee's heft, his length, his girth, even the flange of his
helmet... Jesus, you could see every vein! What's more? Lee didn't seem
to give a fuck. He was topless, his muscles and sleeve art on full
display. More importantly, Lee's cocked-rifle tattoo drew even more
attention to the top's dick.

"Jeez, how the fuck can you go out like that!?" asked the bottom. The
explicit and brazen meaning of the tattoo couldn't be disguised.

This? Lee signalled towards his ink and mighty bulge. "Dude. I'm not
embarrassed by my meat. Why do you think I inked myself like this? To
make the most of it, to take confidence and joy in who I am. We all need
to be proud of who we are, yes?"

Kris was perplexed. Be proud? Of what? The thick drizzles of spunk
running down his face and body? Sure, the potent smell was keeping him
horny, but there was nothing about wearing cum that made him feel proud.
He subconsciously moved to use his t-shirt to wipe himself down,
challenges be damned.

Lee stopped him cold. "You know, maybe you need to better celebrate
yourself too?" The top had suggested the idea of cum-walking as a laugh,
not expecting for a moment that Kris would take it seriously. But then
came the bottom's cock-ring and the younger top couldn't help help rise
to meet it.

Yet he also felt this moment was an opportunity. Sure, it was luck he was
hung, but he'd never hidden his blessing. In fact, most of the time he
enjoyed flaunting it: it was who he was, so why not?

The top knew Kris had a gift too: his cunt. The bottom had spent years
crafting it, taking it under control, buying giant dildos to stretch and
ream it out, pursuing tops to help make it bigger and better. Except on
the surface you wouldn't know it to look. Maybe it was time to change
that? It was an idea that'd been bubbling at the back of Lee's head for
a while. Maybe now was the moment to seize the opportunity and help Kris
be proud of what he'd created...

Before Kris could process the words a Sharpie had appeared in the Lee's
hands. With a wry smile and a strong hand, Lee spun the bottom round so
his back was now facing the top.

"You know, I think you should go out with some ink too, just like mine.
After all, your cunt is magnificent - just like my dick. How many men
could have achieved what we managed last night? I really think you need
to own it..."

Kris gabbled, unsure as to Lee's meaning. The bottom felt broad and
confident pen strokes on his back: the top was a gifted artist and
didn't hold back from his vision. Then, Lee slapped the bottom's arse.
"That'll do. Let's hustle!" he said, opening the door. Kris was
mindlessly nudged out, his t-shirt thrown aside. What the fuck was he
doing? Drenched in cum and now his back inked up... with what? What was he
meant to be proud of? He was in a daze, stupefied.

------

The two half-naked men walked out onto the deserted streets, the sun
bright and forming long shadows on the pavement. Sensing hesitation, Lee
took Kris's hand and held him secure. His touch over-rode the
other-worldly vibe Kris was feeling: if Lee could do this, to proudly
flaunt his junk in public, then surely he could wear cum on his face and
body?

He was woken from his internal reflection by the sight of a man walking
towards them. Fuck, the streets were empty but did it have to be this
man? It was a hot bear who lived nearby that Kris had seen many times but
hadn't had the confidence to chase down. Even from a distance it was
obvious the bear was enjoying the morning sun, a tight white tee, chest
hair tufting at his neck-line, jumbo-packed shorts and ankle-high boots.
He was casual, confident and seriously thicc.

"Relax man... own it" said Lee, not knowing or caring who the attractive
stranger was. "Gays have been flagging our desires for years: a red,
orange or even polka-dot handkerchief letting those in the know exactly
what we're into, active or passive. All I've done is nudge that along...
what use is having the biggest cunt in London if you don't advertise
it?"

The startlingly words immediately cut through Kris's self-conscious.
Till now he'd been worried about looking like a cum-dump, but now he had
an entirely new set of worries. His hole was private. Yes, a big part of
who he was, but not his public persona.

"I'm proud of your pussy" announced Lee. "You are too, right? We want
the world to know". Kris didn't have time to think any more as the
heavy-set bear got closer. He willed himself to be small, but holding
hands with a young, half-naked, junk-pushing muscular hunk made that
impossible.

A wry - no gigantic - smile appeared on the handsome bear's face as he
took in the complete scene. Lee's big bulge and then recognition of the
fluids coating Kris's face and hairy body. They nodded at each other,
the need for social distancing stopping the cruise from following
through. And yet the bear held their gaze as he walked past, and that was
the moment when he saw what was drawn on Kris's back. His eyes went wide
as they filled with hunger, his obvious lust filling his face. He
couldn't help but react with a forceful fist bump directly at the horny
couple, even as they kept moving by.

Jesus?! Just what had Lee drawn on his fucking back?! Apparently it's
meaning was clear though. The bear would have taken down Kris's hole
there and then if lockdown hadn't been in place. His pussy would have
been ravaged, his cunt annihilated. His dick filled out at the thought,
the mystery of not knowing powerful and desirable.

His thoughts were bought back to the road by another pedestrian
approaching though, this time a woman walking her dog. Despite the cum on
his face and Lee's junk literally pulsating ahead of his body, the
elderly woman didn't seem to blink an eyelid. It was as if the couple
weren't even there.

"See?" said Lee once the fusty women was past. "Walk with confidence
and the people you care about will notice... but no-one else will give a
shit, they're too immersed in their own lives. Maybe you need to stop
worrying what other people think?"

The words hung in the air. What exactly did Lee mean?

Finally, they got home. Kris virtually hurled himself in front of a
mirror to see for himself what on his back. What he saw amazed, shocked
and appalled him.

Across the full width of his back was drawn a clenched fist, punching
outwards, just like the emojis he'd used so many times on countless
WhatsApp and Recon messages. The clenched fist was beautiful drawn -
vividly real - seemingly crafted by a master draughtsman. Below a thick,
wide arrow pointed towards his arse. Across the fist's knuckles were the
words `JUICY CUNT'.  As an advert it's meaning was unmistakable.

Kris couldn't believe it. He'd been outside wearing this?! He
spluttered, trying to form words but not knowing where to start. It was
fucking obscene! He could have been arrested, if not lynched! What if
someone had seen him?

And then he remembered someone had...

"I know, right?! It's pretty awesome!" said Lee. "I got the idea last
night. Seeing you in your straitjacket giving your cunt away so
completely... your pussy is so amazing I think everyone needs to know
about it. Permanently."

Everyone? Permanently? What the fuck did Lee mean? Kris was in disbelief.
To be marked like this? To be so blatant about what he was into? At least
with a red handkerchief it was temporary... but then there was that bear
who was so hot...

"I told you I'm a tattoo artist, right?" said the top. He hadn't.
"That's why I came to London: I get booked up months in advance. That
silver case I bought with me? That's my gear, I take it with me
everywhere I go. All this--" gesturing to his long, intricate sleeve
"--is my calling call. I designed it with a friend to fully show off my
skills. The ink above my dick though? Who do you think did that? Me.

So, how about it? Want to be marked up a cunthole?"

Fuck off! There was no way that Kris was going to be inked up like a
fucking fist-whore. The mark on his back was obscene and outrageous. He
shook his head in disbelief. Sure, it was a surprise that Lee was a
tattoo artist but there was no way he wanted to take advantage of it.

And yet...

Part of him couldn't help but wonder... to be that brazen, to advertise
the abilities of his cunt for everyone to see, he'd never want for
serious fist addicts ever again--

Fuck! What the hell was he thinking?! He shook his head clear and walked
away to clean himself up.

The bottom's retreating footsteps gave Lee an amazing view: a taut,
bubble butt covered in tight Nasty Pig shorts. His arse jiggled
invitingly. And above that? The arrow he'd drawn just minutes before,
heavy and laden with the promise at what was between those cheeks. Then
the clenched fist emoji above, leaving the capabilities of this man's
cunt in no doubt.

Lee may have been new to fisting, but he knew desire. And he knew the
power of ink to transform and to be true to ourselves.

"Kris--" called out the top, all whilst squeezing his dick, the shaft
insanely thick in his hand. A damp patch oozed from the tip, the meaning
of his precum blatant to see.

"You see how hard you make me?" his helmet flaring. "You look fucking
stunning, a real pig to be used, impossible for any top to resist. I want
to take you."

Jesus, what was Lee saying? He looked like a whore and that made Lee
hard? And yet, of course, he was a fist-whore. His hole was always
hungry, his cunt wanting to be used, to feel the pleasure hit from being
stretched again and again. Even after the mammoth session from last night
how could he resist?!

"I know that fucking look!" smiled the top. "Your cunt needs it,
right? Fuck! When does it ever not need it? Christ, you're going to
exhaust my fists long before your hole gives out! I'll make some lube
up?"

Lee knew exactly what he was doing. He turned away, not needing an
answer. They were playing sure as the earth moved around the sun.

------

Kris left to go get ready. Lee was turning out to be a fist-god. How
could he say no? He wiped the cum covering him away, almost resisting
licking the surplus off, and then cleaned himself out before a hot shower
to reset everything to zero. He was ready to play again.

Leaving his bathroom he was surprised that the sling wasn't hanging.
They'd left it up last night but now it was down. Yes, his play sheet
was out (some toys too) but were they playing or not?

Lee walked in, dressed in a pair of Kris's long, leather shorts and a
bar vest. The black leather and red stripes made the most of his body and
he looked ready for action. He saw Kris looking at the set up and said
"I thought we'd try a new position. Doggy style? On your front, taking
my fists from behind?" It was almost as if Lee had been `researching'
fisting porn online whilst Kris was getting ready. Surely not?!

The bottom had always been slightly hesitant about doggy style. For it to
be successful the connection had to be strong, not least as you couldn't
see each other. Kris had found his own solutions though.

"Okay... sure, let me position the mirror on its side. I like to see who
I'm playing with" he smiled.

"I wouldn't expect anything less, stud" said Lee. As the bottom got
things ready the top asked whether he could take some photos of the
session. Something to remember playing with Kris by. And everyone needs
profile pics, right?

Sure, said Kris, not realising Lee's intention to immortalise the art on
his back forever. The hot shower hadn't done anything to remove it, the
fist and arrow still there for everyone to see. Kris didn't know that
and the two men started kissing and reconnecting, Kris naked and without
gear in his desire to start playing again.

Soon, the bottom was on all fours and presenting himself. As Kris faffed
with the necessary poppers and such, Lee seized his moment. He wasn't
going to leave this to chance. He often used a tripod and Go-Pro to take
time-lapses of his work. This was no different. Expertly, unseen and out
of sight of the mirror, he positioned his camera to capture the scene in
close-up detail.

As he turned back to the bed what he saw stunned him and he left Kris in
no doubt of his desire.

"Fuck man! Your ass looks so hot! I can't believe we haven't done it
this way already! Your bubble-butt looks stunning! Christ, you're making
me drip..."

He can't hold back.

He plunged his fuckslab inside Kris in one - still engorged by the tight
cock-ring - giving the bottom no warning or time to prepare. Kris's arse
was there to be taken, so why not? Besides, Lee knew the bottom could
take it. And so he did. Gripped, caressed and loved. And yet so loose and
fleshy and sloppy. A better home for a hung dick couldn't be imagined.
It was an epic shag, and Kris felt every punishing inch, but he didn't
know what was really driving the top on...

Lee had been a tattoo artist for years. He loved marking guys, making
their fantasies real. He was good at it too, in high demand. However,
he'd never branded anyone with such a fucked up or obscene tattoo as the
one he'd just drawn on Kris...

He'd thought about it though. He was a deeply sexual man with a dick
that wouldn't quit. Giving a bottom a `cum slut' tramp stamp or a
cocksman a `my dick won't quit' brand? He loved that shit! As he
ploughed away his drawing on Kris's back drove him forward. His dick was
harder than he could ever remember. He wanted to make this happen. It
would be so fucking hot... to permanently mark Kris as a manpussy. To make
the bottom's dreams come real: the biggest cunt in London. That would be
something to live for.

He couldn't hold back a second longer and unloaded deep.

Thankfully Lee was a repeater. He could load and shoot, time and time
again. He withdrew his fuckslab, wiped any lingering cum from his shaft
onto his hand as lube, and then plunged his fist inside Kris. He had
warmed up his cunthole's pussy and now it was time to really use it.

And that ink? That ink was fucking calling him on. He didn't take it
slow - after all the tattoo didn't say `slow down' or pussyfoot
around. It said `juicy cunt', and that's exactly what Lee needed. And
Kris wanted to have. 24/7.

By now the bottom was in hog heaven. He could feel Lee inside of him
plundering his pussy with a fresh and bestial energy. It was insane and
intense, an energy he'd never felt from Lee before. The morning walk
completely forgotten, now he went with it, giving every ounce of his
being to be punched and used. Lee grabbed the bottom's ball sack with
one hand to secure Kris's body so he couldn't escape or pull back from
the top's fists.

Jesus-cunting-Christ! "Punch my cunt! Please" screamed Kris.

Lee did it, forming his hand into a clenched fist and slowly (but
confidently) punched inside Kris's waiting and blown-out pussy.

"No!" cried the bottom. "Harder... please... wreck my hole"

Who could refuse? Soon it became a competition. Lee would reach around to
kiss the tormented bottom and they'd agree a new number to reach. 50
full fist-punches in a row? Hell? Why not a 100? 250? There was no limit
to their depravity. Every punch was pure cuntal-pleasure, main-lined into
their souls, maximising out Kris's pussy.

------

Hours later Kris asked whether he could see the photos Lee had taken. The
top was playing a long game and was delighted he'd managed to hold out
from showing the horny pictures before the bottom asked. They were going
to be a real treat... he'd surreptitiously removed the Go-Pro long before
Kris had come round at the end of their session and the bottom had no
idea what he was about to see...

Lee handed over his phone, relaxed, as if nothing was at stake. Or
different.

What Kris saw stunned him. It was clearly him, on all fours, graphically
and expertly taking a fist. But was it him? He looked like a total
fist-pig. An arrow lining up with Lee's intense punches. A clenched fist
advertising exactly what he wanted. Cunt-destruction. Christ, he could
almost hear himself moan! He couldn't help his pussy twitching as he
swiped through the pictures. Big flaps! Big punches! Pig-heaven!

Normally he hated porn with him in it but this was something different.
He was speechless. It was like nothing he'd seen before, he looked hot
as fuck. Dangerous, scary, branded. But the sex had been so amazing and
Lee had given him exactly what he'd wanted. How could he not have this
again?!

From that moment on, the mark was sealed. It was inevitable and couldn't
be escaped. To deny it was to refuse his purpose in life.

It was then the doorbell rang. Who the fuck could that be? It was
lockdown and Kris wasn't expecting anything. Lee merely looked
nonplussed. He went to the door. Waiting outside was a large, rectangular
cardboard box and he picked it up, heavier than he expected, so much
heavier.

He bought it into the flat, still surprised, not having a clue even
though it was addressed to him. He looked bewildered as he set it on the
table, deeply curious. Distracted - the porn of his destruction forgotten
- he started to open it.

Lee smiled and couldn't hold back. "It's from me... I think you'll
like it..." said the top, happy his order had finally arrived. It's
tough relying on the internet but sometimes...

Kris looked up, not knowing what to say. He was still Lee's landlord for
lockdown but presents and being a ffuck-buddy complicated things. He cut
the box's seal and opened the cardboard flaps.

Oh my god. It took him a moment to work out what it was. A black, heavy
metal frame making an open box about 18" square and 36" long. An
electric motor - evidently powerful - inside the frame. All connected by
silver metal levers to some kind of track that looked like it could
move--

"Do you like it? Given your hole development I knew only the best fuck
machine on the market would do. You did say you wanted the biggest
lockdown pussy in London, right? With my ink on your back and this
reaming your cunt out they'll be no turning back!"

------

Next: things get intense...

------

If you'd like to read more new stories from any of the wonderful and
truly inspiring authors who contribute to this invaluable resource then
please donate to Nifty so they can continue to publish.

In the meantime, comments and suggestions are welcome at
stuhadley77@gmail.com and my previously published stories are:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-first-hand-school/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-reintegration-centre/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-curse-of-troy-fletcher/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/the-wish