Scotty's in Charge

My heart was thumping. This guy – this gorgeous hunk of testosterone-riddled Maori manhood – was playing some sort of game with me. 

And I didn’t know the rules.

I eased open my closet door. No light came in through the hole at the back of the closet. 

Was he there? 

In the dark? 

Waiting? 

Or had he gone to the gym as he’d said?

A tube of paper stuck through the hole.

Scarcely daring breathe, I eased the paper out of the hole, backed out of the closet, quietly closed the door and unfurled the roll of paper.

“A Welcum note from your MaleMan,” I read.

“You are a cock-sucking, ass-fuckable faggot. Don’t deny it! I heard that from the captain of your high school rugby team! Yeah! He told me about how he fucked you up the ass every day. And how he charged other dudes to fuck your mouth or screw your ass. Fuck! He said your ass would be stuffed with dick between every class and all the way thru lunchbreak.

“And now your slut-ass and cunt mouth belong to me.

“Strip naked, pussyboy – then go and kneel in the last shower on the right.

“You will obey.”

Numbly, blindly, I stood, stripped.

Everything he said in that note was true.

Naked, I padded out of my room, across the hallway, towards the darkened communal bathroom.

Rick, the captain of my high school rugby team, had obviously told Scotty everything.

Feeling my way in the pitch blackness, I pushed open the door to the last shower-room on the right.

Scotty knew about Rick giving me one dollar for every dick-dick I had to suck – while Rick took $4.

How I got $5 for every dick that got shoved mercilessly up my ass – while Rick took $15.

I knelt in the shower stall. Resigned. Let the inevitable happen. . . 

………………………………………………………………………………………

“Pussyboy. . .”

It was Scotty. I heard him easing open the door to the shower stall. It was pitch-black – why the fuck hadn’t I thought to turn on a light?

“Hello, pussssssss . . .”

I was aware of sudden footsteps, a sudden change in temperature; aware of a new smell, a new closeness – a new body . . .

Then – a new sensation. Warm. Enveloping . . . yet, ebrasive . . .

“Open your fucking pakeha mouth, pussyboy!”

Bitter – almost acrid.

Yet, fullfilling – satisfying – overwhelming!

“Drink it! Swallow it! Kare kihaaa!”

I clamped my lips around the source of the outflow and swallowed desperately as a huge, gushing flow of glorious manpiss sluiced its way down my slut throat.

“Tia Haiaiaiaiai!” screamed Scotty. “Yeah! You’re my fuckin’ bitch slut now!”

The flow of piss came to a sudden stop.

A moment of dark, inky stillness.

My lips were still clamped around the head of Scotty’s dick. I felt his hand grab the back of my head and ram me down onto the base of his dick.

He repeatedly slammed his dick down the back of my throat; with each slamming stroke his dick grew fatter, thicker, harder, longer . . . I couldn’t breathe! By the time he’d hefted his mammoth dick out of my throat, I never had time to catch a breath before he slammed it right back again. And again – slamming, slamming, slam, slam, slam, slam . . . then nothing.

Silence.

Darkness.

And I’m there: on my knees, naked in a shower stall, my heart pounding nineteen-to-the-dozen, drenched in piss, my mouth gaping open and drooling like a dog.

“Ass,” barked Scotty’s voice from the darkness.

I froze. What? Does he really mean . . ?

“ASS! Stand up, turn around, bend over and present your asshole! ASS! Fuck! Didn’t you learn anything in high school! ASS!”

I scrambled to my feet, turned and bent – eager to prove that I had learnt something at high school. My asshole was open and available . . .

“Mmmmm – Pussssyboy! That’s better . . . Ka pai, morena tahi . . .”

I felt the sudden impact of a rock-hard dickhead butting dead up against my exposed asshole.

“Toru pai! Bullseye, pakeha pussyboy! Yeeeeeah . . . my dickhead is knockin’ at heaven’s door! You ready – huh? You ready to have my dick up your kaitea pussyboy butthole?”

“Yeah . . .” I moaned, waiting for the moment when his dick would slam itself into my hole.

“What was that, pussyboy?”

“Please . . .” I groaned. I needed that dick – I was ready for it.

Scotty nudged the head his dick more firmly against my hole.

“Please, what, buttboy? You want my fuckin’ dick? You gotta ask nice!”

“Yes! Please!” I yelled. I was desperate to be plugged! “Fuck me, Scotty! Yeah! Please! I need your fat dick up my ass! Sir! Please, sir! Please, sir, fuck meeeeeeee!”

With one almighty thrust he smashed me open! His mammoth dick, only vaguely damp from the mucous and saliva of my own throat, was thrust ball-slamming deep into my tight, dry asshole . . .

I howled with searing pain.

“Shut the fuck up,” snarled Scotty. “Take it like a man . . .”

He dredged his dick out of my tunnel until just his fat, bloated dick-head remained inside. I suddenly felt empty, lost – aching to be refilled.

“Because you are a man!”

He slammed that mighty man-flesh pole right back up my chute. The pain was agonising – my entire body was cramping. The tender walls of my asshole parted for violently thrusting kiripaka.

But I took it.

Like a man.

I felt strong, resilient. Empowered. That huge slab of Maori manmeat – maungihura – ploughing my ass – controlling me – owning me.

“Kia kaipo,” grunted Scotty, pumping my body full of his mana, his power, his essense. “Tane kaha, you’re mine, pussyboy.” He slammed the full length of his taiaha into my burning, needful gut then slowly withdrew until that massive plum-sized head nudged at my quivering hole. “Mine to have.” He slammed back into me and slowly withdrew again. “Mine to take.” Slam! “Mine to control.” Slam! “Mine to share.” Slam. “Now take me, pussyboy! Take my mana! Take my fuckin’ cum!!”

He began fucking me like a man possessed, drilling a new hole with his powerful, demanding ramrod; and with every thrust he slammed into me, I thrust back to meet it, willingly, eagerly. My ass clenched his immense dick and held on for dear life.

Scotty gripped me harder around the waist, holding me up as he smashed one last, unbelievably deep thrust, burying his log to the hilt!

“Aieeeeeeee!” he screamed. “Fuck! Take it, fucker! Yeah! Take my fuckin’ man juice! Aaauugh!”

As Scotty’s blasts of sizzling hot cum basted the inside of my gut, I flipped over the edge of control, shooting load after load of my own pent-up spunk into the shower box – fuck! I hadn’t even touched myself! I had only been aware of the overwhelming sense of being well and truly fucked to even care about my own dick . . .

I collapsed against the wall of the shower stall and Scotty collapsed against me. We were both drenched in sweat and I could feel the wetness from my own load of cum and of Scotty’s piss in the bottom of the shower.

We were both panting heavily, unable to speak, when there was a knock on the door of the shower stall.

“Hey, pussyboy,” Scotty gasped into my ear. “You remember what I said about ‘sharing’ you?”

The door swung open and from a shaft of light from the corridor beyond, I saw a couple of guys silhouetted in the doorframe. They were both grinning eagerly and one was grabbing his crotch.

“I’ll make ‘em pay thirty bucks a time in future,” said Scotty, disentangling himself from me and standing. “But tonight is a freebie – so we can all get know each other better.”

He slapped me hard on my bare, slippery ass and turned to leave. “Enjoy it, guys. That is one grade-A pussyboy ass!”

I stared at the throng of guys now clambering at the door. I was dripping with sweat and piss, cum trickling down my inner thighs from my gaping, well-fucked hole.

I was home.