Calluses Pt. 01: Friction

My mind reeled as he traced that clenching ring of virgin muscle, teasing the middle, pushing up against the filthy, forbidden closeness of it...

"HELP!" I shouted. My cock was shrinking even as his work below pushed my hips up to meet him, legs spread wide like a whore's. "Get off me! I'mstraight, man -- I'm fucking straight! You can't do this!"

"Shut the fuck up, goddamn it." He wasn't smiling anymore. His face became colder, angrier, the more I resisted. "Liking titties don't got shit to do with this. It's the easiest choice you'll ever make - you'd know that, if you'd seen half the shit I've seen over the years. Not gonna let you pussy out of this...not before you get your head on straight..." His finger was kneading with a steady rhythm now, insistent and free of any true resistance. He could puncture me at his whim, and both of us knew it.

"I'm telling you now, boy -- whatever I give you won't be shit compared to what you'll get in prison. This ass is all virgin...cherry, they'd call it. Plus you've got a real nice face to go with it, pretty blue eyes, and you're in real good shape -- so you'll get noticed right off. Nothing you can do about that. Same day you arrive, probably. Maybe the guards'll get their rocks off makin you strip. Lot of em do. Then maybe you'll be washin yourself in the shower, or bending over to fluff your pillow, and then --"

A sharp pain lanced up into my ass as he shoved his thick, dry, calloused finger inside of it. My sphincter instantly caved in, gave way to the force of the sudden intrusion - now tightening around the thick, knobby middle, burning and twitching, impossible to close up again.

I shrieked -- from the surprise as much as the pain -- but he'd already covered my mouth with his other hand. The highway was empty and quiet again, so there was hardly any reason for it...but he was gorging on his control over me, happy to feed the pathetic spectacle he'd turned me into.

"They'll make sure you can't scream, just like this." He glowered into my wide, terrified eyes as I whimpered into his palm. "And then some big, tough, dirty alpha son of a bitch is gonna pluck this cute little cherry all for himself, right there in front of all the other trash...fuck you silly while they watch, waitin their turn for sloppy seconds, thirds...but he'll just keep on tearing you open, as rough and hard and long as he wants...and he won't care how much you beg him to stop, because that's the only thing he'll want to hear from you anyway. He won't use any lube either, maybe some spit if you're lucky -- and his cock'll be a hell of a lot bigger than my middle finger. It'll bust you wide open - fuck this ass into a pussy. His pussy. Think about that..."

His finger began to work its way deeper despite the tightness and my muffled protests. Before long he was pumping it, slowly, in and out of my virgin ass. Everything I had was clenching against it, trying to lock him out - but it kept stabbing up into me, in and out, and the piercing pain was impossible to ignore. He was making his point.

"He'll use you up and spit you out, college boy. And there won't be any suckin on your titties, or kissin up your neck, no sir...just you, bent over a crusty mattress with some lifer's dirty underwear stuffed in your mouth, gettin your shitter torn open. And if you pop a nice big stiffy, like you're doing with me? He won't like it, not like I do. He'll beat you into a fuckin coma...and then he'll just keep on fuckin you raw, like a limp, muscley sex doll - until he pumps you full of himself, as deep as he can get it. That's rape, boy. But it won't stop there..."

The pain in my ass was growing, as was his speed, as was the hard cock against my leg. I was beginning to get desperate, terrified it would never end, and I knew he could tell, but he only glared into my face. His strange, fatherly warmth was long gone, replaced by a calm, sadistic delight that danced like gunfire in the black pools of his eyes.

"You'll be nothing but a prize hog to them, boy. All kinds of savages will line up to tear into this ripe young ass, even after it gets fucked all loose and sloppy. Mouth, too. They'll spit roast you good, fill your guts up with diseased filth from both ends at the same time. They'll rape you up and down and every which way, every fuckin day, for a year or three, while all your flaky little college buddies forget you ever existed at all. You'll be workin at a gas station the rest of your life after that, probably letting truckers fuck you raw in the bathroom just to get your fix..."

He laughed at the face I was making, as if my seething anger was just another thing for him to enjoy. "Oh, you think I'm joking about that? Think you're above it? Ha! Don't even doubt it, college boy...one weekend with a cock in you might make a big impression, but if you get your ass fucked that hard, for that long...? You'll start craving it before they're done with you, and then it'll be all you can think about whenever your pretty pink dick gets hard. Not girls, not pussies...just cocks in your ass. You want that life, boy? No man wants that...not a real man...you're gonna be a real man, though...I'm gonna make sure of it..."

He was really pummeling my hole now, in and out, shredding it raw. I was panting into his palm, angry and afraid -- but I'd heard him. I was sober and clear-headed, the most I'd been since the beginning of this whole ordeal. I understood him perfectly -- but I couldn't tell him that with his hand crushing my mouth shut.

"A weekend with me isn't looking all that bad now, is it?" he growled into my neck, sniffing deeply, stirring my ass with his stiff, thick finger. It was agony, but it was also...

I shook my head vigorously against his hand, giving him a muffled"Nophf!" I wanted him out of me. I wanted my clothes back on. Wanted it all to stop.

His finger abruptly left my ass. It hurt. He took his hand away from my mouth after one final, pained squeal -- but his finger stayed poised against the swollen pucker below, at the ready. "Gotta hear you say it, now. You gotta give me your word." His eyes held mine, deathly serious. His breath smelled minty and stale against my face, and its heat and its wetness were somehow intoxicating when the rest of the world was cold and dead. "Say it."

"Yes," I choked. "I'll let you -- I'll do it. Whatever you want, okay? I'll let you do it."

He shook his head, teasing my inflamed hole with his fingertip, threatening to bust it open all over again. "Say. It."

"I choose you! One weekend, whenever you want, and I'll let you - you can...I'll let you fuck me." My voice wasn't my own, just a hollow echo off the cloud cover.

"However I want."

"However you want."

"As many times as I want."

"As many times as you want. For one weekend."

He laughed at that, eyes smiling again. "Good boy."

I quivered under his hands at those two words...and the quiver turned into an all-out trembling fit that would not let up, driven by cold and fear and sheer exhaustion. He held my body against him until the trembling passed, one hand planted firmly against the small of my back, the other engulfing my limp cock and shrinking balls, cradling them in protective heat against the constant bite of the cold. My cock had been soft since he'd forced his finger into me...but now it twitched against his palm, and he smiled against my scalp.

He had me.

I began to cry quietly, head hung low, totally defeated. I'd never had a chance...

He slipped his arms between my elbows and my hips, pulling me off the car into an awkward, intimate embrace. His hard body was as firm and unyielding as an oak tree beneath the starched layers of his ruffled blue uniform, radiating heat from its core that warmed me in the cold, dry air. He smelled of sweat, fabric softener, musk, department store cologne...

I only had seconds to wonder if I was enjoying this before he opened the back door of his cruiser and whipped me around, my jeans falling down below my knees. He yanked them up around my ass, grabbed me by my handcuffed wrists, and pushed me into the back of the cruiser face first. My knees hit the seat, and I fell forward onto cracked old leather that was only slightly warmer than the air outside - and terror filled me up, as I realized he might want to put his cock in my ass already.

The regret was instantaneous. "D -- don't do it -- please!" I begged. The weight of my loose belt was steadily pulling my jeans down over the bulge of my rear, threatening to expose me all over again -- and in a far more perilous position than before. "Not like this!" I wriggled away from him as he climbed in behind me, struggling against the cuffs, even if I knew it was pointless by then. I had to try. I had to know I'd tried.

"Calm down, boy. I'm not gonna fuck you yet. Not here." He grabbed my hips and yanked them up towards his body, forcing me onto my knees with my ass perked up in the air. Same thing I'd do to a chick.

"Wha - what're you doing, then?" I whimpered.

"Just takin a little sample to hold me over," he said, husky with lecherous anticipation. "Think of this as a preview. For both of us."

My loose jeans and boxers were yanked down to my bent knees seconds later, exposing my naked ass to the frigid air. I whimpered into the seat cushion, expecting the worst, readying myself for the world-ending pain of his cock splitting me open without mercy or remorse.

"Oh, boy...that's even nicer than I thought it'd look." He pushed my crumpled t-shirt up my body, all the way up to my armpits, before running his hands down my flanks, enjoying my powerless figure at his leisure. "Fuck I love your body, boy. You work out just hard enough, I'd say." I was shivering violently beneath his fingers, and it wasn't just because of the cold, or even the fear. "Whatever you do, though -- don't ever lose this gorgeous, fat muscle ass you've got...it'd be a fuckin crime against nature..."

His hands were on my big, meaty ass cheeks seconds later, spreading them to expose my wincing hole. I felt his thumbs tickling the dark hair that ringed the opening, caressing the trembling valley of my ass like it was a purring cat.

I clenched and unclenched my knuckles in the cuffs mere inches above his plundering hands, completely at his mercy. I knew he was looking at every square inch of my bare ass, and obviously enjoying it -- the large, muscled mounds of my glutes, the smooth, pale skin and its every blemish, the dusting of dark fur on each cheek...and the thick ring of hair around the pink hole itself, winking in naked fear. I'd never shaved it, or waxed it, but I'd definitely been curious enough to lock the door of my room and spread my legs in front of my cell phone camera. I'd liked it then, as a horny high school kid -- knowing it looked virile, yet symmetrical, good enough for a chick to run her tongue over, like they did in porn, if she was kinky enough to try it. But this...

I'd never been a true jock, or even much of a player with the ladies, but I'd always been unquestionably masculine. Hairy enough to make other dudes jealous in high school, but not enough to scare off the girls. In college I'd finally come into my own, a naturally handsome guy with a tight body who liked to work out and fuck chicks, in respectable moderation of course. Some days I even felt like a man...but I knew I was the farthest thing in the world from any of that to this cop. To him I was just a plaything, a victim, something to be fondled...something to be fucked...my hard cock twitched beneath me.

"Hold still now," he ordered, big hands spreading my cheeks. I heard him spit, wet and heavy. A hot gob of mucus landed in the crack of my ass, quickly dribbling into my open hole...warming it.

Oh God...

His finger appeared there, coated with more of his spit. Slick with it. His free hand was gripping the meat of one ass cheek, as much to fondle it as keep it out of the way...

"Please just let me go," I whined. "One weekend, that's what you said..." I gasped and clenched my ass as he pushed into it again. He simply ignored the resistance, along with my mewling protest, and shoved his spit into my body with a soft, wet squelch.

"Don't make me get rough with you again, boy. This is happening..."

The squelching continued. He coated the sides of my helpless sphincter with the hot wet goo of his mouth, steady and slick, sawing up to the first knuckle. There was certainly a dull hurt, but nothing even close to the sharp pain of his earlier abuse. My hole quickly adjusted to it, thanks to the spit, and I didn't know whether I should feel relieved or ashamed. His blunt fingertip slid in and out of me, easier each time, a shallow, teasing almost-fucking, until it slid in...and kept going.

My ass was alive around it in seconds, pulsing and shuddering with a mind of its own, clenching up to no avail. He slapped my ass cheek with his free hand, making me buck and yelp, distracting my senses as his finger kept going. I tried a desperate change of tactics against him before he could bottom out - I pushed my hole against his finger instead of clenching it, as if I could somehow shit it out - but, with a flinch and a gasp, I quickly learned this only opened my body up to him, making his job even easier.

"Fff...uck!"

"Oh yeah, just like that boy...just like that, you got it...show me that pink..."

I clenched again to spite him, slowing his process and increasing my own pain -- but I couldn't just let him take me, because then he wouldn't be taking me at all. I stayed quiet, telling myself he wouldn't get any further moans or gasps or tears from me. I simply wouldn't like it anymore...

His finger bottomed out seconds later, and he let it sink in, until everything felt...strange.

I bit my lip. I hated the raw, endless violation of it all, but every part of my body was alert, every nerve ready to receive sensation of any kind and react accordingly. And this...this felt good. He was rocking his knuckles inside of me, barely moving. My asshole began to relax around his buried finger, and my insides...began to throb.

I wanted it to stop, but I didn't. I was panting into the seat, close to tears, desperate to hate it, hating that I didn't know what to feel.

The finger left slowly, my ass squeezing around it...kissing it as it left. I bit my lip to sniffle a pitiful groan of sheer mortification...but then it returned...two of them now. Two thick man-fingers pushing into me.

"No --come on man, one was enough! ENOUGH!" I jerked my ass away from his fingers, but his thighs were wrapped around my knees, smashing them together and holding me in place. I tried to push my body forward, but my head was already crammed against the door of the car, and my hands were still cuffed behind my back. I tried to clench my ass shut, but he was just too strong. They kept pushing into me. I could feel my ass stretching around them even as it crushed them.

"Stop!" My voice was shrill, frantic, not my own. "Fucking faggot - get off me!STOP!"

His free hand slapped my ass cheek -- hard. Hard enough to distract me from his fingers as I cried out at the blinding pain of it, and for a crucial instant my ass went totally slack.

That was all the opening he needed. He shoved his fingers all the way in -- three of them now, stretching, stretching, deep down towards the bowl of my guts - and, finally, I really did scream. He was bending and twisting the hard, gnarled stalk of his fingers, burrowing deeper down into the very core of my sex, into a place no one had ever touched me before, not even myself --

Something lit up inside of me, deep down where his fingers were concentrating their relentless assault. My stretched asshole quaked around his knuckles, and I groaned throatily into the seat cushion as everything below my stomach seemed to melt.

"You feel that?" I heard him say. His voice was made thin by the haze of pleasure and pain now crowding out my vision, my brain. "That's what I'm gonna give to you. You wouldn't get that in prison boy, not ever. I don't just want to cum in you...I want to make you hot for it. And I'll get you there, too...you'll see. You'll see..."

He was pumping his fingers deep into me now, squelching louder than ever, slow and firm - too slow, I realized, almost torture - and it was enough to finally convince me. I was panting into the seat, suddenly beyond any fear or shame, fresh sweat pouring out of my armpits and down the crack of my ass. I could feel my ass lifting to meet his stiff, probing fingers and his hot sultry breath, even though I wasn't telling it to. I had no control at that point. None at all. I could feel my hard cock bobbing beneath my hips, my entire groin fully engorged. A searing river of precum was working its way down my shaft, leaking from the head of my cock to spatter against the seat of his car as he turned me out with his voice and his hands. It didn't matter -- nothing did - because he was pounding it now.

God -- it's too much -- he's hitting -- something -- rubbing it -- like a -- clit -- it feels -- I want -- faster - more --

I groaned loudly, angrily - lustily - helpless in my bonds. My ass was bucking on its own now, fucking itself on his pumping, kneading fingers, and I didn't care. I wanted so desperately to jack myself off, to cum so hard with this -- feeling -- punching me open inside.

His free hand left my gyrating ass and reached under my hips, where it wrapped around my very large, very erect cock. I nearly came then - but he'd stopped finger-fucking me. I could feel my tortured hole working itself around his knuckles, as if it could coax him back into fucking it...

"You want me to keep going?" he asked with a grin in his voice, hot breath washing over my ass and the small of my back. He squeezed the root of my cock, ever so slightly...and I felt another drop of hot precum glob at the tip. I could only imagine what he was seeing back there, how angry and red and stretched my clenching hole must have been around his fingers. I didn't care, either. He'd seen all of it. What was done was done. But...what wasn't done...

"Yes," I wheezed, and instantly hated myself for it.

"What was that, boy?" His grip dug into the base of my cock, making it harder than it had ever been -- hard to the point of pain, begging to be saved.

"OH, oh my God-!" I gasped, wriggling my hips, my ass -- pushing back to meet him. "Yes!" I grunted, sinking into shame. "Yes -- keep going. Please."

"Please do what?"

"Please make me come...like that..." I couldn't have said anything else.

"Oh, it gets so much better than that, college boy. I'll show you." He laughed softly, as lewd as it was affectionate, just like all the rest of him. "Keep talking to me. You like the way I'm turning you out? You like the way your ass feels right now?" His fingers were kneading, stirring, teasing.

"Yes," I whimpered, begging him with my voice, my tightly stuffed channel pulsing around his thick, bony knuckles...it was unimaginably pathetic, and not a thing I'd ever thought myself capable of doing, but I didn't care. There was nothing outside the sweaty prison of his cruiser. My world was only the sum of what he was doing to my body, and the total need for him to finish his work.

"How about four fingers? The whole package. I could go a lot deeper...turn you into my big, sexy sock puppet right here, right now...bounce you on my knee..."

I was breathless at the thought of it. The pain of his entry was nothing compared to the aching pleasure that had followed, and the thought of having even more of him punching into...that place...

I nodded, perhaps too readily. "Okay," I whispered, terrified.

"That settles it, then." He squeezed my cock and bent it slightly in his grip, making me grunt. "You may be straight, college-boy, but you're gonna love having my cock fuck your ass. I'm gonna give you some time to think about what the real thing is gonna feel like, though...get you nice and worked up for it."