Danny Darling Ch. 03

One of his 'boys' whispered in his ear. Scarface smiled and stared into my face, contented to rub his cock on my belly...making sure I could feel every inch of it.

Finally, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.

"Puta, Rico has a better plan...we're going to take you home with us...after I bust your cherry I'll turn you over to Rico and Jose...they'll teach you how to suck cock before the rest of the guys get to the house...we're gonna make you our little white bitch---we'll even get you little panties to wear around the house...think of how much fun you'll have---you won't have to work anymore...the only thing you'll have to do is suck and fuck me and my boy's---won't that be fun, Chica?"

I saw 'Rico' pull the cord to get off at the next stop. My mind shrieked with panic---THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING---WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

I figured when he let go of my hips I could break away and try and go thru the people to the front of the bus.

The bus stopped, and as soon as he released my hips, one of his strong hands gripped my wrist and he pulled me along with him and his friends.

OH MY GOD—NO—NO---NO....I tried to fight him, pull away, but he was too strong.

Suddenly, a fat lady barged her way between us, Scarface was forced to release my wrist as she pushed him out the side door of the bus.

I was left standing there staring out the window. The door of the bus closed just as Scarface tried to climb back on the bus to grab me and force me home with them.

As the bus pulled away, I saw a slight smile on his face as he mouthed the words, "Tomorrow, Chica---tomorrow!"

I was still shaking when I got home. My car was not in the parking lot. I poured myself a large glass of wine and sat on the sofa wondering what I should do. How could I get to work without having to take the bus? Maybe I'd have to call-in sick for a few days.

Then I thought of Danny, and his 'payment plan' for him paying to get my car fixed.

Would it really be so bad to give him handjobs for two months? It's not like I'd have to, pewwwh, suck it or anything.

The more wine I drank the better I liked the idea. What would be so bad about jerking him off? I'm not queer, what difference would it make to me? It's only sex....

By the time I finished a second glass, I had summoned the courage to go to his apartment. When I stood, I felt my erection press hard against the front of the jeans I always wore at home. There was a small stain of pre-cum showing thru the fabric. I untucked my black tee shirt and, to my relief, it covered the problem.

Just my luck: I opened my front door the same time Jenifer across the hall opened hers.

"Hi, cutie," she said. "Were you coming over to play with my panties?"

My face turned beet-red, I averted my eyes from hers.

"Uh, no, I need to see Danny about something," I stammered.

"Oh, too bad," she said sarcastically, then, with mock indignation told her roommate standing next to her, "...c'mon, Katy, pantyboy would rather spend time with our queer landlord than with us!"

Her words stung me bad. I still had a huge crush on her. She was the prettiest girl who'd ever shown interest in me but my fetish had ruined everything.

I stood before Danny's apartment, took a deep gulp of air then, knocked on the door.

When the door swung open, I was struck that he didn't seem as homely as before.

"Danny," I said sheepishly.

He slammed the door in my face. I stood dumbfounded for a few seconds until I remembered what he had told me the last time we were together.

I can't say the words he wants me to say...can I?

My body began to tremble; I was enveloped in fear. All I could think of was Scarface and his thugs turning me into their bitch.

I knocked again. He didn't open the door. I knocked one more time. No response.

"D-Darling..." I said in a small, quivering voice. "Please open the door...."

No response.

I looked up-and-down the hallway and saw no one.

My voice grew louder with my desperation.

"Darling, please let me in..." I searched the hallway again and I was still alone. "Darling, please---I want to open your slacks, take out your penis and make it hard with my hands...please, Darling, I want to stroke your hard cock and give you pleasure...I want to make you cum, Darling---please let me play with your cock and make you cum, Darling---pleeezzzzz...."

I'd never felt such relief when he finally opened the door for me.

"What is it you want, boy?" he asked with a blank expression on his face.

He stopped me the moment I began talking.

"Always look into my eyes when you speak to me," he said.

I looked him in the eyes and answered, "Y-Yes, Darling."

"Now, what is it you want, boy?"

A lump formed in my throat as I stared into his steely-hard, blue eyes. I wasn't sure I could say it with him looking at me like that. In the back of my head I heard Scarface's evil laugh.

"I, uh...oh God...please Darling, I want to open your slacks and take out your cock---I want to give you pleasure---I want to make it hard and stroke it until you cum---I want to feel your hard cock in my hands, please, Darling!"

"What about my balls?" he asked teasingly.

My head almost exploded. OH MY GOD---WHAT DOES HE WANT FROM ME?

My eyes filled with dewy moisture, but I held his hard gaze. Okay, if this is what he wants, I'll play along.

"Yes, uh, please Darling, I want to rub your balls for you...yes, I want to stroke your hard cock and rub your balls at the same time...I want to feel your cum shoot out of your balls and thru your cock---yes, please, Darling---please let me pleasure you!"

When he motioned me inside, I wondered if I should feel happiness, or that I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

He didn't give me time to think about it. Once the door closed behind us, he took me in his arms, stroked my hair and cheeks then lowered his face to kiss me.

OH MY GOD---KISSING WASN'T PART OF OUR DEAL!!!

There was something odd about his gentle touch; I shivered when I saw his eyes just before his lips met mine.

Tenderness? Caring? My God, I thought, he really does like me.

And his lips were like none other I'd ever kissed; soft, warm, exotic. Our mouths melded together; our lips came together as one. I threw my arms around his broad shoulders and he pulled me closer and hugged me tightly. I could feel his erection against my own.

When he broke our kiss, I swore I saw tears in his eyes.

"Take off your clothes," he said when he released his hold on me.

I began pulling my shirt up but he stopped me.

"When I tell you to do something, always reply 'Yes, Darling'...."

His voice was even; he wasn't scolding me, he was just giving me simple instructions.

"Yes, Darling," I said then, removed my shirt.

"From now on, begin with your shoes and sock, if you're wearing them," he said.

"Yes, Darling," I replied.

I sat on a chair and removed my shoes and socks.

"Fold your socks neatly, and place them in your shoes."

"Yes, Darling," I said, slightly trembling.

I stood and as I reached to open the snap on my jeans, he stopped me, sat on the sofa and said "Continue."

This was totally different than what I'd expected. I thought I would sit next to him, open his slacks, take out his erection and masturbate him until he shot his load. This was, well...much more intense.

"Do it slowly...pull your zipper down slowly."

"Yes, Darling," I said.

When I opened the snap on my jeans it seemed to echo thru-out the room. Then I slowly lowered the zipper and---oh my God---it sounded so deliciously dirty and sexy that my hard prick throbbed inside my briefs.

"Peel down the jeans like you're a girl---wriggle and squirm your hips when you lower them."

My breath caught in my throat. This was not only intense, but becoming very, very erotic as well.

"Yes, Darling," I sighed.

I hooked my thumbs in the side of the jeans, and very carefully maneuvered them down my hips, wiggling my buttocks as I pushed them down my legs.

When they were lying on the floor he said, "Fold them neatly and place them on the chair with your shirt."

"Yes, Darling," I said, and did as I was told.

"Pose for me---place your hands on your hips and pose for me like a model."

"Y-Yes, Darling," I gasped, self-conscious of my rock-hard erection pushing out the fabric of my briefs. I was thankful I was wearing my black, string bikini briefs---the growing pre-cum stain was harder for him to see.

When I placed my hands on my hips he corrected me.

"Men stand like that---not you...turn your hands the other way---the backs of your hands should be facing behind you...yes, like that---good girl!"

"T-Thank you, Darling," I said, slightly agitated by his calling me a 'girl.'

I posed for him. He told me what he wanted to see. I shifted my balance from leg-to-leg; I slowly turned, and when my back was to him, I looked over my shoulder and thrust my buttocks toward him.

I was acutely aware of how girly I must look to him, but strangely, I enjoyed the attention. I loved the hungry look in his eyes as they devoured every inch of my body.

"Come to me---lock your hands behind your neck," he said.

His commands were neither crude nor suggestive, but they excited the hell out of me, and caused my prick to twitch and jump inside my ever-increasingly damp briefs.

"Yes, D-Darling," I said, gasping for air.

I was standing directly before him, our knees almost touching.

"Spread your legs further apart," he said.

"Yes, Darling."

"Wider!"

"Yes, Darling---I'm sorry, Darling!"

"Rotate your hips then thrust them forward---like you were having sex with someone!"

Oh my God, how embarrassing! I was so far gone, his voice was so commanding and hypnotic, I obeyed him without protest. I soon lost what little self-control I had left and began obscenely grinding my hips and thrusting them forward like I was actually fucking a girl.

"Look at me---look into my eyes!" he ordered.

"Yes, Darling."

I did as I was told.

At first I felt nothing but shame and humiliation. We really weren't anything more than landlord and tenet, but here I was, standing before him in my underwear, with a raging hard-on, thrusting my pelvis and hips forward like I was having the wildest sex of my life.

His eyes bore straight thru me. I didn't dare look away. I could feel them inside me; he was reading my secrets; he knew exactly what and who I was---not who I pretended to be. I'd never felt so violated, so weak and helpless. He had total control of me and both he and I knew it.

"Sweetie," he whispered, "...cum for me...let yourself go...."

His words inflamed my lust; my hips thrust harder and faster. I prayed he would touch me---I whimpered and moaned and prayed to God this strange man would touch me.

I didn't see his hand---my eyes were locked into his. Suddenly, he wrapped his fingers around my cock and squeezed. I lost every ounce of dignity and pride I ever possessed.

My hips bucked and jerked as I shot load-after-load of cum into my briefs before the eyes of a man who seemed keen on humiliating me; a man I wasn't sure that I even liked. A man who, with one squeeze of his hand, was giving me the greatest orgasm of my life!

"Sweetie," I heard him say as I was bent-over, hands on knees, gasping for breath. "Thank me for allowing you to cum in your briefs...."

What else could I do?

"Oh, Darling," I said, my chest heaving as I fought for air, "...thank you for letting me cum in my briefs...thank you, Darling!"

He took my head in his hands and we kissed. My lips were soft and yielding. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I sucked on it gratefully.

He said: "I can't wait any longer...."

I watched him strip off his shirt. He saw me staring; his eyes lowered to his slacks then looked at me. I knew what he wanted. My hands found his belt; I needed better balance so I was going to sit next to him, but again he stopped me.

"Sweetie, you should be on your knees whenever you take down my pants."

I felt my heart flutter as I said, "Yes, Darling."

While I was working his belt and zipper I saw the bulge in his crotch, and a large pre-cum stain on his slacks.

When his slacks were loosened, I tried pulling them down but he wasn't cooperating.

His eyes bore a hole in me. I knew immediately what I was supposed to say.

"Darling, please let me take down your slacks," I said softly.

"Why?" he asked with no sign of emotion.

WHY? I DON'T KNOW WHY! OKAY—I'LL TELL HIM WHAT HE WANTS TO HEAR!

"I—I want to take out your hard cock, Darling."

He lifted his hips and I was able to peel down the slacks. I folded them neatly and he placed them on the sofa next to him. Then I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his boxer's, and once again, he was making it difficult for me.

"Please, Darling," I said, "...please let me take down your shorts so I can see your hard cock!"

He smiled and helped me lower his shorts. I felt a shiver race up my spine when his erection sprang into view. I gasped. I thought it was beautiful.

I told myself: It's alright---just because you think a man's penis is beautiful doesn't mean you're queer.

I stared at his cock and I heard his voice above me say: "Kiss it."

My face flushed red, my hands began to tremble.

"I---I can't...please---I can't!" was my reply.

I expected him to scream and yell and call me names, but all he said was: "That's alright...I'm a patient man."

I wondered what he meant by that?

"Now what?" he asked me.

"I---uh, please, Darling, please let me feel your hard cock...please," I said, immediately regretting saying that final 'please.' I thought saying 'please' three times sounded too needy.

"Look at me," he said. I stared into his blue eyes.

"Which hand do you use when you masturbate?" he asked calmly.

Oh no, I thought, I can't tell him I don't use either hand---that I use the 'friction-method' grinding my prick against the mattress...that is way too embarrassing.

"My left hand, Darling," I said. It wasn't a lie: the few times I tried it with my hands I preferred the left one.

"Stroke my cock with your left hand---hold my balls with your right."

For some reason, his command sounded so dirty and sexy I let out a small groan. I even felt my penis come to life again.

"Y-Yes, Darling."

And for the first time in my life I wrapped my fingers around a man's hard cock.

I was instantly reminded of the heat I had felt a few days earlier when he'd pressed my hand to his crotch. Only now, his slacks and shorts were gone, and his naked cock burned hot in my small hand.

My heart fluttered; a rush of blood went to my penis. I was amazed I had an erection so soon after I'd climaxed.

I cradled his balls in my hand. They were twice the size of mine, and very heavy.

My breathing became irregular when I began stroking his cock with one hand while massaging his balls with the other. My face flushed red, but it wasn't from embarrassment; the room had suddenly grown very, very warm.

"Sweetie," he said, getting me to take my eyes off his cock to look into his, "...lighten your grip, it feels like you're trying to strangle the life out of it...yes, that's much better...slower, yes that's a good speed...I'll tell you when to go faster...."

My eyes were locked-in to his. I don't think I could have looked away even if I wanted. I became scared---I could sense him searching inside me.

"Sweetie, why are you here---your car won't be ready for another day or two...why did you come here tonight?"

What could I say? Well, I had to ask him sooner or later....

"I---uh, Darling, I was wondering if you would drive me to-and-from work until my car gets fixed?" I asked.

For a brief second, I wondered if asking a favor of him while I was stroking his cock made me a whore.

"Did something happen on the bus?" he asked.

I blurted out, "No-no, it's just that...well, I...."

"Sweetie, whenever I ask a question you will tell me the truth...and believe me, I will know if you're lying to me."

I didn't want to tell him. It was humiliating.

"No-no, it's just that the ride is so long and all the people look mean and smell funny---it's horrible taking the bus."

"Sweetie...what's the real reason?"

Tears filled my eyes. I knew there was no way out. I would have to tell him about Scarface, and what Scarface wanted from me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I told him the story of my encounters with Scarface on the bus.

"Go faster!" he said when I finished my story.

For a brief moment, I didn't know what he meant. Suddenly, it occurred to me to move my hand faster up-and-down his cock.

"So," he began, "...this guy, who seems to be the leader of a gang, thinks you're a cute boy, and wants you to be their bitch, is that about right?"

His hard cock expanded and throbbed in my hand. His chest was heaving; his hips began thrusting in time with my hand.

I nodded my head.

"FASTER—FASTER," he shouted.

I felt his big balls contract in my hand and the semen and sperm rush upward thru his lurching and throbbing cock. I tore my eyes away from his in time to watch the eruption of cum from his slit. I stroked his cock as fast as I possibly could.

He shouted, "OH GOD—OH GOD—YES-YES-YES-YESSSSSSSSSSSSS...."

When it was over I felt strangely at peace with myself. Yes, I had masturbated a man to climax, but it wasn't the terrible thing I thought it would be.

As a matter-of-fact, I was proud of myself. I was happy that I was able to provide another human being with such pleasure.

He helped me to my feet, saw my erection tenting the front of my soaked briefs, pushed my underwear down my legs then said "Sit on my lap."

I put an arm around his shoulders for balance. He kissed me hard as he grasped my erection and began stroking it---shivers of joy and pleasure raced up-and-down my spine.

The feeling of another person's hand on my prick was pure ecstasy---it hadn't happened very often in my life.

He whispered in my ear as he stroked me faster.

"Yes, my sweet, pretty boy, I'll help you---I'll drive you to work but what do I get in return? This wasn't part of our original deal...you have a three-day weekend coming up---you will stay here with me the entire weekend---there are things I want to teach you...."

I didn't think about his words. His hand was giving me such intense pleasure I would have agreed to anything at that point.

"Yes, Darling...I'll stay with you!"

He whispered instructions in my ear.

Suddenly, I felt his other hand beneath me. A finger was pressing on my anus---I tried to squirm away from it but he held me firmly in place. No one had ever touched me there before.

"OH GOD," I cried out when my climax began.

He pushed his finger into my asshole while he jerked and squeezed my prick.

I cried-out what he wanted to hear: "I'M CUMMING DARLING---I'M CUMMING DARLING---I'M CUMMING DARLING!!!!"

I shook and bucked like a rag doll. I held onto him for dear life. I couldn't believe this orgasm was more powerful than the first. My semen was spewing everywhere.

He pulled his finger from me and held me in his arms. There was something so safe and secure about being in his strong arms; I loved the feel of him holding me tight.

When I opened my eyes I saw him smiling at me---I smiled back at him.

We kissed.

He asked what time we needed to leave for work and I told him 8:20.

"Be here at 8:00," he said, "...before we go, you're going to give me a reacharound."

"What's a reacharound," I asked.

He laughed and kissed me again. A long and gentle, but passionate kiss.

"I have so much to teach you," he said.

I suddenly became cold and shivered. A mixture of fear and anxiety washed over me. Deep down I knew what he wanted to 'teach' me, and to my bewilderment, it excited me.