Sunday, January 24, 2016

The Crew, Part 2

The Crew, Part 2
C. Charlie -

It had been my first time whoring myself out, or being whored out really, and to be honest, I didn't feel like much of a whore afterward. I felt calm, almost relaxed. I'd had the best orgasm of my life and I'd been able to get rid of a lot of anger and aggression that had been building up for a while. When I left, the back part of the barn was empty, so I just got in my car and took off. I got a text that night telling me to come back the next afternoon.

When I arrived, Mr. Smith was there and called me into his office.

"What the fuck did you do to that guy last night?"

"He blew me." I said. Then I grinned real big and looked Mr. Smith in the eyes. I squared off my shoulders and tried to take up as much space as possible. "I fucked his face, hard. Why, did he complain?"

"No complaints, at all" Smith said. "He was completely pleased."

"Cool." I said. "Get me some more. I want to do this as fast as I can."

"Getting more is not going to be an issue." Smith stood up and walked behind me. He ran a hand across my shoulder and then grasped my bicep. I pulled away and turned to face him. He put his hand on my chest and smiled at me. "Inspecting the goods is one of the perks of my job."

I bit down hard and tried to keep my mouth shut. Impulse control has never been one of my strengths, but I knew better than to fuck things up. Every muscle in my body wanted to pounce on Smith. The way he undressed me with his eyes, felt my body without permission, and acted like he owned me, made my skin crawl.

"You're incredibly hot," he said.

"I know." I replied. I looked him in the eyes. I might not be able to dominate him physically, but I could still do it mentally. When he broke away from my gaze, I knew that he had sensed my power. He withdrew to his desk. Before he sat down I saw him adjust his cock and my own dick started to get hard. I'd gotten off by putting a man on his knees once before, and I didn't even dislike the guy. Mr. Smith was pathetic, and it would have been a pleasure to punish him like I'd punished the other fag.

"Not a lot of guys take to dominating another man the way you did. I watched the recording of your session. Pretty impressive. You weren't faking it were you."

"That guy was pathetic," I said, "I just gave him what he wanted, and he wanted to be fed a cock and be called a fag. It wasn't hard."

"Did you hate him while you were doing it? Is that what fueled you? Do you hate fags?"

I smiled, "I don't hate a lot of guys, and I don't hate gay guys. It wasn't about hate. Just . . . power."

"Whatever it was it worked. You ready to go again?"

"Like I said, give me what you've got. I need the money."

"Alright. Be back tomorrow night." Mr. Smith turned away and then turned back, "And I don't think I need to remind you of this, but keep in mind that these are paying customers. Don't let your love of power, or whatever, get away from you."

"You don't want me to hurt someone." I said flatly.

"Not unless they want you to," he said back.

Over the next week, I delivered a load to three other guys, and I got a return visit from the first one. I was surprised that the blow jobs didn't get old. I figured that once I got used to feeding a guy my dick, I would get bored by it. On the contrary, the more I played, the better I got and the more I enjoyed it. When I was with these needy and slutty guys, I felt completely free. I could do whatever I wanted and in the end, they would thank me and give me a tip.

I didn't see much of the other guys that worked at "the Farm." Some came in to work out, but most of them were all business. All of us owed money, and that was how we found ourselves working there. Most of the guys weren't as lucky as me. Most of them were getting fucked, and the shame on their faces proved that they didn't like it. Some of them were gay. Those guys were more personable and friendly. Damien was still just about the only guy that talked to me, and even then it was usually about sex.

"I hear you're tearing your guys up, man.” he said.

"I'm trying."

"You fuck anyone yet."

"Nope." I took a deep breath and let it out. "I guess that's coming, right?"

"Definitely." Damien said. "You're going to be fucking a lot of dudes."

"You do that and it goes ok?"

Damien broke away from my gaze. He blushed a little and then looked up, "Yeah, I do that."

It wasn't until the next day that I learned why he was blushing. I was shooting the shit with Sean, a slim surfer type guy that I'd met on my first day, and recounting the conversation I'd had with Damien.

"He said that?" Sean asked, "He's fucking lying to you bro. Damien takes it up the ass, just like I do."

"He told me that he dominates other guys. Like I do."

"He tried that shit, but he wasn't any good at it, and if you can't perform, Smith finds a job that you can do. And there are a lot of guys out there that want to fuck a muscle bound stud like Damien. Fuck, I'd do it if I got a chance."

I rolled my eyes. Every time I thought I had the place figured out, something came up that made me rethink everything. It also gave me some incentive to perform. There was no way I was taking it up the ass. Not even for money. Mr. Smith could try it, but I would put up a fight. A guy has to have a line that he won't cross for anything, and that was my line.

When I finished lifting, Smith called me into his office. "You got a guy tomorrow night who wants it dirty," he said to me.

"I only do dirty," I said with a smirk. I could see Smith's eyes on my junk. I knew that my cock formed an impressive bulge in my sweats. I'd bunched it all up before I came into his office because I liked to fuck with the guy.

"You think you're the shit, don't you?" Smith asked, "You know how fast I could wipe that smile off your face? You show me some respect or you're going to find out."

I didn't say anything. In my head, I was wondering how a scrawny middle-aged guy like him expected to take me down. Then I remembered the pistol he kept tucked into the back of his pants. He'd use a gun. Pussy.

"Anyway, this guy doesn't just want some dirty talk. He wants you to come in sweaty and a little ripe. Go for a long run before your session and work up a solid sweat."

"That's it."  I said, "Then what?"

"Then let him lick it off of you." Smith said, as if I was familiar with every twisted gay fantasy that crossed a dude's mind. "Spit on him some too,"

"Got it." I said, "Sweat and spit. Not too hard."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," he said as I left.

Luckily I didn't have to figure it out by myself. Even though guys think I'm some sort of fag-hating Neanderthal, I actually have a pretty close gay friend. Last weekend while we were drinking, I told him about what was going on. He didn't make me feel ashamed, and tried to reassure me that being a dom wasn't really about being gay or straight. Since then, he'd been helping me pick out clothes to wear on my 'dates' and things had been going pretty well.

He gave me a nice jock-strap for starters. I'd worn my share of jocks, but this one was bright blue and made out of a soft fabric. It felt amazing while it cupped my nuts. I covered it with some white Adidas shorts and a cotton tee that would soak up my sweat. I looked hot. The shorts showed off my tree trunk thick, hairy legs, and the nylon made my ass look fantastic. This new client was going to lose his shit when he saw me.

When the time came, I laced up my shoes and went for a five mile run around the property. Cars drove by on the county road, and I knew that one of them contained my prey. He would be stone hard as he drove down the driveway, fantasizing about the guy he'd just seen jogging and wondering about the guy he was going to get. I ended my run ten minutes after my appointment was supposed to begin. My skin was still burning hot and dripping with sweat when I walked into his room.

The guy was on the floor, naked except for a pair of black briefs. He was kneeling and had his body turned toward the wall. When I walked in he flinched a bit, but he didn't turn to look at me.

There is an art to this part of the interaction. These guys claim that they want to be dominated, but they really want to be loved. Their brains are just fucked up and they get the two confused. But if you really want to take them over the edge, you have to make them think you hate them because you love them. They have to think that you're doing it all for them. Starting things slow, puts them in that head space.

I walked up behind him and pressed my crotch into the back of his skull. I knew he could feel the heat radiating from my sweaty body as well as the hardness of my shaft. He didn't make a sound as I brought a hand to his mouth and slipped a finger between his lips. He sucked down on it like it was a bottle.

"Yeah, you ready to be my bitch?" I said as I shoved a finger down his throat and choked him. Then I pressed my cock into the back of his skull, "You're gonna have to do real good if you want this, fag. You’re gonna have to earn it."

He groaned. Well, it was more of a whine. His dick was already hard and pushing out of the leg of his briefs. I thought about telling him to hide it, but figured it was a lost cause. The briefs he was wearing were so small there really wasn't anywhere for his cock to go.

"You wanna see what you get?" I asked him.

He nodded. Then he whispered, "Please sir."

I took a step back and adjusted my cock. I knew I looked hot. My hair was still a little sweaty and my shirt was pitted out. Everything fit well, showing off my v-shaped frame and huge shoulders.

"Turn around, fag." I said.

When the guy looked at me, I saw his eyes go wide. I don't have much going for me. I'm kind of a dick and pretty stupid, but I look fucking fine. Today was no exception. I smiled at him.

"You get what you pay for."

"Fuck," he said as he began to crawl toward me. I watched as he got near, and then put a hand on his head and tilted his face upward. He was looking into my eyes, with my big cock hanging over his face. At the tip of the tent, there was a dark spot. I was horny, and my dick was leaking like a faucet.

I stepped forward and pushed my junk into his face. His mouth opened and he started to tongue my balls through the fabric. At the same time, I could hear him breathing hard, huffing my smell like it was a fucking drug. He buried his face between my legs and rooted around like a pig. In response, I ground my dick against his forehead.

When he was good and boned up, I took a step backward and grabbed him by the hair. Tilting him upward, I collected a big wad of spit and launched it at his face. He didn't even flinch as my spit rolled down his cheek. When I pulled up another batch of slime, he opened his mouth and closed his eyes. I grinned before I spit right into his mouth. He didn't need me to tell him to swallow it, and once he had it down he opened his mouth for more.

I didn't give it to him. Instead, I stuck a finger in his mouth, hooked it in his upper jaw, and then pulled him toward the bed. I sat down, with him at the bottom, and spread out my arms. "Take off my shoes, fag," I said.

Of course, he wasn't satisfied just pulling them off. He licked the bottoms and sides of my dirty trainers, before pulling them off. As soon as the first one left my toes, he put it up to his face and took a big whiff. I kicked it out of his hands. "You've got to pay extra for that shit." I said with a laugh. He didn't laugh. Instead, he went back to my feet, removing my other shoe before licking the soles of my dirty socks. It took me a few minutes, but eventually I started to get bored. His mouth didn't feel all that good on my feet; it was just making my socks wet.

"Take those things off," I said to him.

He pulled my socks off and sucked my big toe into his mouth. His tongue moved down the line, sucking each toe and licking the gaps between them. While he did this, he massaged my ankles and feet. The effect was entirely relaxing. He wasn't getting me off, but he was making me feel real good.

As he licked my feet, his hands rubbed my shins. Before I really caught onto things, he was running his tongue up and down my shins, while his hands rubbed my thighs. Then I felt one of his fingers slide up the leg hole of my shorts. I grabbed him by the wrist.

"You're a sneaky little fag, aren't you?" I said, "You don't get that until I tell you." I released his hand and put both of my arms behind my head. My wide, deep pits opened up and the hair pushed out in big bushes. I saw his eyes go for them and knew I wouldn't need to tell him what to do.

He crawled up along the side of the bed, careful not to touch me even though his eyes never left my cock. Then he pressed his face into my left pit. Again, I heard him breath in deep.

"You like that don't you? That’s the smell of a real man, fag."

It wasn't like me to use those kind of words, but it was turning him on more and more every time. He practically groaned out loud when I called him a faggot. He was going to tip me good when this was over.

He grumbled and grunted while he worked my pits. When he finished with one, I turned him over to the other, and when he was finished with that one, he looked at me with his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog. The guy was hungry for it.

"How about you eat my ass?" I said to him. He practically passed out at the offer. I put my hands on the waistband of my shorts, and then stopped and smiled. "You're finally going to get to see my dick, faggot. You ready?"

He nodded while his eyes drilled holes into my groin. I slipped the pants down and my big, thick cock slapped against my flat stomach. My foreskin was still looped around the head, and my piss slit just barely winked through. Everything was glossy and shiny with precum.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Can I taste it, please, sir?" he asked.

"One lick." I said. "Any more than that and I'll knock your teeth out. "

He crawled between my legs and pushed his head, slowly, between them. He was deep in there, underneath my balls. His tongue touched my body and then slowly he licked his way up over my full balls, along the long shaft of my dick, and over the tip. The fag was definitely getting his licks worth.

"How'd it taste?"

"Good, sir. I love it." he said.

"Savor it, cause you're not going to be able to taste much when I'm drilling your throat." I said. Then I lifted up both of my legs and exposed my asshole to him. "Get on my hole, faggot."

I know guys who like licking a chick's asshole. Honestly, I've never quite understood it. It's too submissive for me, too degrading. But this guy clearly loved doing it. His mouth was all over my ass, making love to it, and doing whatever he could to give me pleasure. It was awesome. I rubbed my leaky cock through his hair, oozing precum onto his scalp. His eyes were buried in my balls and his nose was pressed against my sweaty taint. He'd asked me to work out before meeting him, so I knew that he was getting exactly what he wanted.

I dropped my feet onto his back, pushing my ass into his face. He continued to growl and moan as he licked my sweet asshole, and I rubbed my thick soled foot up and down his spine. He arched his back like a cat and rubbed my thighs. He was working hard for his prize.

I tapped my thick uncut cock against his head. I was gentle at first, but I got more aggressive with every tap. Soon he noticed and pulled away from my ass. He looked up at me and I batted him hard across the cheek with my steel hard cock. He winced, before smiling and turning his face back toward me.

"You're a fucking glutton for abuse, aren't you fag?"

He nodded yes and opened up his mouth, ready to suck my dick. I smacked him again with full force. I hit him hard enough that my dick stung, and judging from the way he pulled away the smack was more than he expected.

"I kind of like fucking with you." I said to him while rubbing his cheek gently. "You take it like a man." He opened up his mouth and I grinned, "Even though you're not one."

I stuck my fingers into his mouth, all four of them, and pushed them into his throat. He gagged, but I kept playing with his face, pulling on his jaw and his lips, spreading spit across his face. He let me do it all and never once tried to break away.

"I'm ready to give it to you fag." I said to him, "All of it. Are you ready?"

"Yes sir," he mumbled before running his tongue up my balls.

"How do you want it?" I asked, thinking that his obedience and the fact that he was paying to have sex with me earned him the right to choose.

He looked at me, almost totally confused. Then he said flatly, "However you want, sir."

"Good answer. Just suck it," I said. "and give me a few minutes to think,"

He dove onto my cock and took it all the way down to the base. I've got eight inches of thick dick, and it was an impressive feat. I groaned and leaned forward as his lips wrapped around the root of my cock. Then he slid back off and smiled at me. He was looking for approval, but I wasn't give him any.

"Get your mouth back on my dick and don't take it off until I tell you." I snarled.

The faggot started to bob up and down on my cock. His tongue was doing amazing things, wrapping itself around my glans and then sliding down the underside as he went deep. His skills were unbelievable, and the blow-job that he was giving me was easily the best I'd ever had. I was on the verge of losing control, of laying back and just letting him take me over the edge, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. As I got closer to getting my nut, I sat up on my knees. He tried to keep my dick in his mouth, but failed as I rose up.

"Roll over." I said with a grunt.

He laid down on his back. It was at that moment that I realized that he still hadn't taken his briefs off. His dick, about six inches long, was visible underneath the black fabric. I crawled over him and shoved my dick into his face. Then I propped myself up by my arms and dropped my crotch against his mouth.

"Open up, bitch, I'm going to get my nut."

He opened his mouth  and then, almost immediately, I felt the amazing sensation of having the muscles in his throat wrap around my shaft. I pulled out and then slammed back in. He took the initial thrust with no problem, and I started to fuck his face slowly. He gagged a little and made some strange sucking noises, but he didn't miss a stroke.

He finally gagged hard, and coughed my dick up. He turned his head away, so that my next stroke missed his mouth. I was so close to getting off that the miss drove me crazy. I drove my fist into his balls. "Get your lips on my dick, now." I growled. He turned and took it back into his mouth, but I resisted the urge to punish him further by shoving it down into his gullet.

He worked my dick head for a few minutes until I was really ready to blow. I'd been holding back for a while, and as my balls drew up against my body I dropped my hips forward and shoved my cock into his throat. My whole body convulsed as I expelled my nut into his gut. I could hear him coughing beneath me and felt him struggle against my weight. I didn't care if I was choking him out, I just wanted to finish blowing my load.

When I was done, I pulled out of his mouth and rolled over. Immediately, he turned onto his stomach and dove into my crotch, licking up every drop of cum and spit that he could find. When his mouth hit my sensitive dick, I pushed him away.

"No more," I said.

He smiled wide. "That was fucking amazing man. You're fucking amazing," he said.

"I know." I muttered as I turned toward my clothes. "Tell your friends."

He rolled off the bed and picked up one of my trashed sneakers. He put it up to his face and took a deep breath. Not one to pass up an opportunity to make money on something that I was planning to throw away anyway, I told him he could have them for a hundred bucks.

"Pretty steep," he said.

"I gotta be able to buy a new pair." I lied.

He looked at them again. I could tell he wanted them bad. He looked back up at me. "One hundred for the shoes, and . . . you piss on me while I jerk off."

"You're serious? You want me to piss on you?"

He nodded.

"Go get in the bathtub." I said. He pulled off his briefs and dropped down into the tub. His cock was hard and bright red from being played with. It was likely that he'd been grabbing it and rubbing it the entire time we were fooling around. He knelt down in the tub and started to pull on his dick.

"You are one sick sorry bastard," I said as I pulled out my dick. My urethra opened up like a firehouse and I blasted him right in the forehead. He smiled and then moved his mouth to catch my stream.

My piss poured out of his mouth and over his body. Of everything I'd done with him, this was what disgusted me the most. My sexual interest was gone and I didn't find it erotic at all. It felt like a job that I was doing to make a solid 100. He, however, was loving it. He stroked his dick like a madman as he took my piss into his mouth and then spit it out and let it roll down his chest.

I finished pissing just as he shot his load against the side of the tub. He was slack-jawed and had a glassy look in his eyes as he came down from his orgasm. His hair was wet and the whole room reeked like piss. I shook my head at him in shame.

"Just take the money that's in my wallet," he said.

"Sure thing." I said with a big smile. I made to leave and then quickly turned back around. I turned the water on full blast. Cold. Then I walked out of the room.

Hope you shot your load. Thanks for reading. Charlie –

1 comment:

  1. Incredibly hot! Great story. Charlie is back! The man stink and piss was hot. I shot a huge load.