A Cumdump's Journey Pt. 12

He began fucking me in long, deep thrusts. Long stokes out with a momentary pause as my empty fuck-chute gasped for air, and made noises like mixing a thick, sloppy soup; followed by a long, deep, intense stroke into my colon which made me shout out each time. My hole gaped wide open, and this anonymous man was plunging in and out relentlessly. I didn't even have to try to keep my sphincter relaxed; lost in my own world of anal stimulation which ravaged every erogenous nerve in my body. My sense of time was totally eliminated, but I could hear Paul telling the guy that he should add more lube before I felt a cold thick sludge flood in my anus again. It was a relief and I realised that he had been going at my cunt now

unabatedly for a long time. Cheers were building in the room as my hole took a beating from this man for what felt like an eternity. The drug had slowly started to wear off, and I had an urge to pull myself free.

"You ain't fucking going nowhere!" The gruff voice commanded and a flurry of even harder thrusts rained down on my abused sphincter.

Finally, when the cumshot came, I was relieved and Paul stood beside me to calm me. He probably sensed my reluctance or desire to take a break and - reading my mood perfectly - suggested I take another hit of the 3-mmc. He held up a key for me and I snorted it without thinking, as he rubbed my shoulders and helped to relax my tense hole. Still I heard the door of the apartment cranking open and slamming shut; yet I had no idea if it was more men arriving or men leaving. Paul soothed me and I let myself float away again with the music. Finally, the impatient crowd could wait no longer and I felt a cock stroking again at my backdoor.

Over the next several hours, my boy-pussy was used by countless men as I rode the wave of euphoria I had never known before. As soon as one cock withdrew, I immediately wanted to feel another man inside me, and nothing was greater than the ecstasy of feeling a thick dick throb and dump its load far into my guts. I soon found as well that my craving for the 3-mmc was also pretty intense; as soon as the buzz even hinted at wearing off, I was calling Paul for another key to snort. He kept me on a constant high over the next several hours as man after man impregnated me with his sperm. I remained oblivious to who the men were, never to know whether any man sitting opposite me in the metro had deeply penetrated my boycunt and seeded it with his nectar. Any one of these men could see me in the street and consider me only a hole which they had bred and used as nothing more than a receptacle for their cum and I would be forever none the wiser.

Finally, in a moment of calm, Paul was whispering something in my ear, although I couldn't make sense of what he was saying, so I got a shock when he lifted the blindfold and my eyes had to adjust to the light. I'd nearly forgotten at that point that he had put me into this sensory deprivation. As I became accustomed to the light, I looked around for the first time. There were still four men in the apartment chatting on the couch.

"Take a break and get a drink," Paul advised me calmly, helping me out my position and guiding me to the kitchen.

My hole gaped between my legs and it felt slimy and messy, and I loved it. I went briefly to the toilet to pee, and was sure to hold my sloppy, cum-filled hole closed as much as possible. It was at that moment that I noticed the tally marks on my back; I counted them excitedly - nine cumloads had been dumped into my pussy. Without any guidance from Paul, I found myself climbing back onto the bed with my hole exposed in the air, lining myself up another line of 3-mmc; desperate to hold on to the incredible sensation racking my body. As I made myself comfortable, the front door clanked open again, and I looked back, catching the eye of a 50-something, body-builder-type who immediately began stripping down and marching towards me. I braced myself for the next onslaught of fucking that would take me through to the morning.

Paul had successfully drawn me into his fantasy; the whole night he had me wrapped around his finger. He fed me drugs and I sank deeper and deeper under his control, not once resisting having my hole used as a living flesh-light.

The following few hours passed mostly as a blur; even though I now had the freedom to see the men that were fucking me, I didn't particularly care who they were. I paid most attention to their cocks as I looked back to see who would mount my hole next, girding myself with excitement when an especially well-hung top began approaching. I longed to feel the deeply profound intrusions such a large appendage would create; the fullness and satisfaction of being a man-cunt for another man's penis - I was in heaven.

At some undetermined point, I realised that it was bright out and I finally brought myself to look at the clock; it was 12 noon on the Sunday afternoon. I'd been taking loads for over 12 hours and it seemed there was only one guy left in the apartment. I'd been pumping on my own cock for hours, but the 3-mmc had severely suppressed my ability to orgasm - not that I hadn't been enjoying myself anyway. I quickly took another hit, while I waited for the guy to finally come up to me on the bed. When he did, it was quick and uneventful, I felt mildly disappointed. Nonetheless he dumped his load like all the men before him and marked his tally on my back.

"I haven't seen a scene that hot since the last time I was in the sauna..." he told me as he unmounted and quickly gathered his stuff to leave.

Paul told me I could go get washed up and he disappeared into the back room. I realised the line I had just snorted would take a while to hit and I still had some to go in the sachet. I walked into the bathroom to get cleaned up and looked in the mirror to take count. 17 cumloads in 12 hours. Fuck!, I told myself, seriously turned on by what I saw. Briefly, I thought about the lies Paul had told me to get me here; the other bottom, the friend with an 11-inch cock. Maybe I'd taken him that night without realising, I really didn't know or care; instead I felt thankful that Paul had persuaded me to do this.

Then I saw it right above the tally; at some point in the night - unbeknownst to me - someone had taken the marker and written 'CUMDUMP' in big letters across my back. Looking at it; I felt so horny and amazed at what I had managed to achieve. I had an urge to continue and knew there was no way I wanted this weekend to end. The stranger's words rang again in my head - he hadn't seen a scene like that since he was last in a sauna. That's what I have to do! I gasped to myself, it all seemed so clear.

I'd lost count of how many times guys had asked me to accompany them to one of the many gay bathhouses in Paris. At first the idea seemed strange to me and I'd no idea what to expect, but with some research I soon learned that this was a euphemism for a sex den essentially - albeit with fancy decor. I knew from looking online that one of the most popular saunas was not far from here; in the 18th - the same district as Paul's apartment. I looked at myself in the mirror and a smile spread across my lips; the weekend didn't have to end yet. I was hornier than ever and the man had just given me the perfect solution.