Brandon's Boots Ch. 06

Just when I was at the point of collapsing from exhaustion, they lost interest in the game. Brandon ordered me to go get them all fresh beers, so I crawled to the kitchen and returned with them. As much as it hurt to crawl, I'm not sure I even had the strength to stand at that point.

Brandon ordered me back on his cock, and I crawled over and obediently started sucking him again. Honestly, I was glad for the rest from being in one place, even if I hated having to suck him off while the others watched. While I was blowing Brandon, they began discussing girls they'd fucked, and even a few they had shared in the past. Brandon even told the others how my ass and mouth compared with girls they knew. I was just the latest in the long line of cum dumps Brandon had used, a few of which he'd shared with his buddies, it seemed.

Brandon wasn't ready to cum, apparently, because after about ten minutes of sucking him, he pushed me off his cock and ordered me to go blow Jesse, who was sitting on the far end of the couch from Brandon. I moved over to Jesse, who unzipped his work pants and pulled his cock and balls out of his boxers. Here it was - the second cock I'd ever been confronted with, the second one I was going to be forced to service. Jesse was a big guy, with a big cock and big balls. Not as long as Brandon's cock, but thicker, more round where Brandon's was wide. He was about half cut, with skin just partially covering his cock head. There was nothing subtle about Jesse; he grabbed his cock and shoved it in my mouth. He forced my face down on his dick, burying my nose in his pubic hair, his big balls against my chin. He started to use my head like a Fleshlight, holding my ears and moving me at the pace he chose, using my mouth to jack himself off. His cock was fat enough to stretch my jaw but didn't choke me the way Brandon's did. Jesse was all business, and his business was apparently pumping a load down my throat, which he did after a few minutes of ramming my face. Having one man use me as a cocksucker was bad enough, but now a second man had filled me with his cum. I knew, however, that things could always get worse, especially with these three volatile bullies.

As soon as he came, Jesse shoved me off his cock. "Hey, Trav, you want some of this fag's mouth?" he casually called to Travis.

"Yeah, send the dick licker over here," Travis sniggered.

I didn't need to be told. I crawled towards Travis. This was the moment I was seriously dreading. Travis seemed far more willing to resort to violence just because he enjoyed it. He also really hated me. I'd known that back when he was a student who was constantly in my office for some sort of infraction. Now, with me at his mercy, I was truly frightened of what he might do to me, and confident that the others would not only allow it but encourage it.

At Travis' feet, I looked up at him. He glared at me with a look of pure loathing. I could tell he was enjoying my degradation, as well as having me under his power.

"Beg me, bitch. Beg for what you want," he demanded.

I took a deep breath. I knew I had to do this. I knew I'd suffer terribly if I didn't beg to his satisfaction. I fought back a fresh wave of shame which threatened to overwhelm me at that moment, as I visualized the situation I was in, and imagined what my family and former coworkers would think if they could see me now, groveling naked and beaten at the feet of a twentysomething skater punk loser, his friend's cum still lingering in my mouth, about to beg for my third cock of the night. What a disgrace I'd become.

"Please...please, Sir. May I please suck your cock?" I asked Travis, staring at his feet.

"Louder, asshole," Brandon demanded. We can't hear you over here."

"Please, Sir! Please may I suck your cock!" I practically yelled.

Travis stared at me coldly. "I don't know, fag. I'm not convinced. Convince me you want it, or you can spend some more time with Mr. Hanger here," he said, brandishing the wire hanger I'd come to fear so much.

"Oh, please Sir! Please put your cock in my throat, Sir!" I begged. I put my head down to his feet and began licking his dirty shoes some more for added effect. "Please fuck my mouth with your cock! I need your dick in me, Sir. Please let me have your cum, Sir!" I continued licking his shoes as I heard him unzip his jeans.

"Get up here and get on it then, asswipe," Travis ordered. I raised up from his feet, only to be confronted with his cock, already rock hard and ready for me. Travis's cock was like the rest of him: thin, long and lean. Lengthwise, it was as long or possibly a little longer than Brandon's, but nowhere near as thick. Like Brandon's, his had a big mushroom head on it, though Travis' cock had a downward curve. I leaned forward and put his cock in my mouth, disgusted by my own actions.

Travis sat back down while I worked on his pole. I glanced up once, only to see he was using his phone to record me slobbering on his cock. I was at a point where I didn't even care anymore. How much lower could I possibly go, anyway?

As I was sucking his cock, Travis took his feet and forced my knees apart, then used his shoe to start tapping on the bottom of my balls, his instep making repeated contact with my delicate scrotum. It took very little effort for him, but caused me a great deal of pain, which seemed to only turn him on more, as his cock throbbed more whenever I would wince or gasp from the pain of him torturing my nuts. He continued to rub his Vans on the tender skin of my balls, the laces of his shoes abrading my skin as he played a sadistic game of tetherball with my nuts.

The more Travis racked my balls with his shoe, the more I squealed around his cock buried in my throat. Every time I squealed, my throat constricted and squeezed his cock, providing him more pleasure each time he provided me with pain. It just encouraged him to continue hurting me. I didn't know how much longer I could continue; the pain in my nuts was intense. Suddenly, Travis used his foot to hit me one more time, hard. I would have doubled over from the pain had I not been speared on his cock. My groans must have sent the little sadist over the edge, because he let out a moan and filled my mouth with a huge load of his cum.

I started to pull off Travis' cock, but he held my head in place. "No cocksucker, I want to soak my dick for a while. Keep it in your mouth," he demanded. I continued to kneel there with his cock softening in my mouth, the bitter taste of his cum coating my tongue and throat, while the three of them continued chatting about what was on TV. Then, I felt Travis pick up the hanger again.

"Here we go, dudes," he said to the others, a nasty grin on his face. "Y'all watch this shit!" He grabbed ahold of my hair. "Yo, fucker," he said to me. "You remember all those times you lectured me in your fucking office, told me what a piece of shit you thought I was, how I wasn't going anywhere in life, all that crap? Well, it's time for some payback, fag."

I feared he was going to start beating me again with the hanger, but it turned out to be much worse. I suddenly felt him start pissing in my mouth! Travis strengthened his grip on my head so I couldn't move as his strong, nasty piss filled my mouth. I was utterly disgusted. I couldn't believe he would do something so nasty to me.

"Drink up, shithead. Every fucking drop. You spill any on my jeans, I'm going to beat you harder than you beat that little fag dick of yours," he threatened, brandishing the wire hanger in front of me.

I couldn't do this. I wouldn't do this. It was too nasty, too disgusting, too inhuman to have this guy using my mouth as his urinal. I tried to avoid it, but as Travis' rancid piss continued to fill my mouth, I had no choice but to start swallowing it.

It was the nastiest thing I'd ever tasted, and the most degrading. I thought I would vomit from the taste of his piss, but knew if I did, these guys might well put me in the hospital. I choked his piss down, swallow after swallow. Apparently, Travis had a big bladder, because he continued pissing in me for what seemed like forever. When his flow finally stopped, he slowly released my head. I made sure to suck off any last, lingering drops of his piss, in the hopes he wouldn't beat me.

"How'd my piss taste, faggot?" he asked, smirking. When I didn't respond, he took the hanger and reached down toward my balls with it. "Oh, shit! Look at this faggot, y'all! I just fucked his face, beat his balls, and pissed down his throat, and his little fag dick is stiff as a board!" he laughed. He started jiggling my erection with the hanger, laughing as he did so, then made me stand up and display my shame to the others. While they were laughing at me, Travis kept using the hanger to tease my genitals, while also threatening to whip my dick with it. He would reach back like he was going to strike a mighty blow to my prick. When I braced for the intense pain, he would swing the hanger, causing it to whistle as it cut the air, but stop before he made contact, causing all three men to howl with laughter at my fear.

I hated this abuse. I hated these cruel young men. I hated everything they were doing to me. I feared it would destroy me completely.

Why was my dick still so hard?

"Crawl over here, cunt, I gotta piss, too," Brandon told me. I dropped back to my knees, unsure what I should be feeling: happy to be out of reach of Travis and his cruel hanger, or dread at being forced to drink Brandon's nasty piss. I crawled toward him, knowing there was no way to avoid the inevitable: he was going to use me as a urinal as well. When I got to his feet, Brandon stood up, then ordered me to open my mouth. He held his cock right next to my lips, not touching my mouth.

He looked at Travis, "Dude, get some video of this! This is gonna be priceless!" He looked back down at me, with a stern look on his face. "Faggot, you know what's gonna happen to you if you spill my piss, right? Or if you throw up? We're gonna take turns beating those useless little nuts of yours with these belts and that hanger. So, you better drink up fag, cause here it comes!" With that, Brandon started pissing in my mouth. His cock was far enough from my mouth I'm sure the others could clearly see his urine flowing into my mouth, something I knew Travis was capturing for posterity on his phone.

I struggled to keep up with the flow of Brandon's piss. His big cock was like a fire hose. I had to quickly learn to swallow with my mouth open. The taste was disgusting! When Travis pissed down my throat, his cock had been far enough in that the piss bypassed at least some of my tastebuds. It was nasty, but not like this. My entire mouth was filled with Brandon's urine. I promise you I tasted every nasty, disgusting drop of it. When he was done, he shook his cock off, then dried it off on my lips and nose, a smug grin on his face.

"You better know what to do now, faggot. Show my buddies how well I've trained you, bitch," Brandon demanded.

I bent down and kissed his huge bare feet. "Thank you for your piss, Sir," I said.

Not to be outdone, Jesse decided to make use of my mouth as well but preferred to stay seated. He made me hold his fat cock in my mouth. Unlike the other two, though, he didn't just let loose with a bladderful of piss all at once. He feed it to me gradually, starting and stopping his flow, making it last, making sure I tasted it thoroughly. His recycled beer wasn't as pungent as Travis', nor as dark as Brandon's, but it seemed there was a lot more of it. I spent a long time with his cock in my mouth, as he slowly drained his bladder into my throat.

When Jesse was done with me, Brandon ordered me to suck his cock again. By now, my entire body was sore from crawling and being beaten, and my throat was raw from Jesse and Travis raping it. My belly felt bloated from all the piss these three young bullies had put inside me. The last thing I wanted was another load of cum to add to it.

Brandon grabbed my head, and began his favorite technique, which apparently he and the other guys referred to as "gag the bitch", where he rammed his entire cock down my throat and held it there as I fought for air, his cockhead thoroughly plugging my airway. As usual, my self-preservation instinct kicked in, and I started to twist and thrash as my oxygen ran out, only to have Brandon pull out seconds before I went unconscious. He did this repeatedly, and several times I felt myself cough up some of the piss I'd been forced to swallow, the taste of it mixing with the taste of bile and Brandon's massive cock. When he was finally ready to cum, Brandon plugged my throat with his cock and held me there as I struggled, then finally blacked out. When I regained consciousness, I had a mouth full of his cum, and he was slowly withdrawing his cock from my mouth while all the guys were laughing.

Now that all three had filled me with their cum and piss, I was hoping they would leave me alone, or at least give me a short break from their abuse. They gave me a rest from their cocks, all right, but not from the abuse. After Brandon pulled his cock from my mouth, I obediently kissed his feet and thanked him for his cum, even though I could barely speak after choking on his cock. He ordered to crawl into the bedroom and fetch his boots. When I returned to the living room with them, he made me stand in the corner of the room, facing out, so they could all see me, with my hands behind my back. Brandon tied his bootlaces together, then made a loop, which he slipped over my nutsack. I began to tremble when I realized what he was going to do. He was holding his boots at the level of my navel while he attached the laces to my balls. Suddenly, he got a big grin on his face, then abruptly dropped his boots. They fell towards the floor, stopped by the laces tied about my tender balls, jerking my nuts to the bottom of my nutsack and causing me intense pain from their weight. I doubled over, groaning, as all three of the guys laughed like it was the most hilarious thing they'd ever seen.

Brandon stepped back to survey his handiwork: my balls were stretched tight, supporting the weight of his boots, a look of agony on my face. I couldn't even make eye contact with any of them, not after how they had used me and continued to abuse my body.

Jesse spoke up, "Fuck, man that's funny as hell! Add mine, why dontcha? Those fuckers are steel-toed, and they are heavy as shit."

Brandon apparently thought that was an excellent idea, because he snatched up both of Jesse's boots and tied them together, then came back to where I was standing and lifted up his own boots. As he was tying all four boots together, I couldn't even form words, just pleaded with him by making whimpering noises in my throat like a scared dog. Brandon clearly enjoyed my fear, because this time, he held both sets of boots up as high as the laces would reach, stretching my tied scrotum along with them, then pretended to drop them several times, each time producing a gasp of fear from me in anticipation of the pain. My gasps and pleading sent the bullies into gales of laughter, topped only when Brandon finally did drop the boots. As soon as the boots reached the ends of their laces, I thought my balls would be jerked clear off my body. That's what it felt like, at least. The pain knocked me to my knees and took my breath away.

"Get back up on your feet, cocksucker. Nobody gave you permission to rest," Brandon snapped.

I slowly climbed back to my feet, placing my hands behind my back as instructed. As soon as the boots lifted off the floor and my balls were supporting their entire weight, I let out a groan. My balls were on fire. Every little movement of the boots caused additional pain and torment.

I suppose Travis was feeling left out, because he got up and walked over to where I was standing, holding one of his dirty Vans. He told me to turn around and face the wall, then slipped the shoe over my face, so that my nose was buried deep inside his sweaty skater shoe. I could smell how old and nasty his shoes were. He tied the laces behind my head tightly, trapping my face inside his shoe. The smell of his foot sweat was pervasive, completely filling my senses. He ordered me to turn around and face the room, and all three guys started laughing again.

"Here's what you're going to do, you stupid bitch," Travis instructed me. "You're going to start swinging those fucking boots with your balls. Those boots better keep moving at all times unless you want me to come back over here with Mr. Hanger again. So, get them legs spread and start swinging, asshole."

I began to move my hips, enough to make the boots attached to my balls swing back and forth. Each movement of the boots added to my agony. Being forced to perform like this was yet a new form of humiliation and cruelty I could barely fathom.

As I stood there, my tender scrotum holding two sets of boots, Travis' nasty shoe covering my face, my three young tormenters sat chatting and watching TV, as if my suffering was beneath their notice, only good for occasional amusement.

As I looked down at my poor, tortured nuts, stretched to the limit by the boots hanging from them and slowly swinging in an gentle arc back and forth, I felt a new wave of shame wash over me when I realized my dick was still hard and throbbing.