Calluses Pt. 06: Raw

The rest of the afternoon was a strange, nightmarish blur. I know it lasted for hours, well into the evening, but I only remember bits and pieces of it; hazy moments like dim shadows on concrete walls, the lone survivors of a nuclear bomb.

I remember him dragging me out of the shower. I was already exhausted, drained, and sore from being forcibly milked for nearly an hour, but he was only just beginning. I was pushed against the wall of his bedroom, naked and dripping wet right back to being cold again. I went slack and just watched as he reached into the top drawer of his dresser, rooting around with one eye on me. He found them quick and yanked my arms behind me, locking my wrists together in a pair of cold metal handcuffs - then I was back against the wall, and he was back to rooting around his dresser...until he found a bottle of pills, and swallowed one dry...until he'd found an odd little noise of studded black leather, and strapped it tight around the base of his giant, swinging cock.

Seconds later I was on the bed, on my back -- and he was bending my knees, pushing my heels into my hamstrings just below my buttocks -- then tightly binding my calves against my thighs with loop after loop of cobalt-colored climbing rope, knots like gnarled gourds between. My blood was pulsing in my thighs, my groin, straining to push itself into the rest of my legs -- and then I was yanked around and shoved face-first into the mattress. My legs had been transformed into heavy, useless stumps ending at the knee, toes curling in fear as his hands wrenched my thighs apart and slathered the entire crack of my ass with cool, slippery lube.

"Don't worry, boy," he growled into my ear, punching his fingers into my defenseless ass, lubing me up in the roughest possible way. "This was gonna happen anyway. I was gonna work up to it...make you want it more...but you had to go and win thatstupid -- fucking -- bet."

I snarled and panted through gritted teeth as he fucked his fingers into my hole with each word. "You just moved the timetable up, that's all. Hope you still think it was worth it, whenever we get around to your faggy little dinner date tonight...now...are you ready to take what I'm gonna give you?"

"Yes..." I whimpered. There was no reason to simply act like I was his slave; he had turned it into a physical reality. "Let's just...get it over with, please...sir."

"Oh, baby boy...poor little pup..." His fingers were kind for a moment, massaging me easy from the inside out. "I don't think you know what this is. Once I start...I'm not gonna stop for a long, long time. This is mebreaking you, boy...this is themain -- fuckin -- course..."

I wasn't able to answer him, but that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

He hauled my body around to face him, and I shrieked at the sudden pain of two wooden clothespins clamping down around both of my nipples at once. They pulsed like burning embers under the constant, merciless intensity of the pressure, quickly becoming part of me. He rubbed the firm meat of my hairy pecs between them -- licking his teeth as the pale skin of my heaving chest quickly blossomed into shifting shades of dazzling red -- gorging his palms on the frantic pounding of my heart beneath the bone.

The pain was so dominant, so severe, that I hadn't noticed his cock punching up into my sloppy ass like an old friend. He flicked the clothespins to make me bellow and arch my spine away from his hips -- then ground his fingers into my belly to make me sputter and crunch my abs right down into his hands...only to attack my nipples again -- again -- then back to my belly, nipples, belly, on and on...at some point, I realized I'd been rigidly fucking myself on his shaft the entire time, to his lecherous amusement...

He was holding my legs open after he'd exhausted my like that, and then I felt a tight, stretching pressure around my ballsack...and saw him stuffing my poor balls into a tiny leather noose, similar to the one around his cock...but made to pull my balls away from my body and keep them there, easily accessible instead of retreating into my groin like they normally did. He'd turned my sack into something like a pink, fleshy mushroom, my balls tight and aching and trapped at its head, scrotum stretching to its limit...cock shriveled and ignored below...

I found myself bent over his lap like an unruly child. He was spanking me again, steadfast and pitiless, until I was screaming -- sobbing -- begging him to stop...and eventually he did, but not before I was little more than flinching putty in his hands....

I strained and bucked against rope and metal, but I could do nothing to stop him as he locked his arms beneath my shoulders and lifted me into the air with all his immense strength. He'd impaled my ass from below with my own weight, now walking us through every room of his house as I bounced and grunted around the speartip of his cock like a hunting trophy -- now fucking my bound body against his bedroom wall like a flailing amputee in a fetish snuff porn -- now dumping me onto the rug at his feet -- and now he was on me again, attacking me, fucking me into the floor, pistoning in and out of my sweating, cramping, shuddering body like an industrial-grade machine.

I could have begged him to stop. I could have done everything in my power to convince him I'd rather have years of jail time over this extreme treatment, this almost-rape -- but I didn't. I was exhausted, bound and helpless...resigned. I let my low, defeated sobs dribble into raw, protracted moans that bled along the floor, buzzed across his skin, warmed his brain like nectar -- only to stiffen into reflexive gasps whenever he went back to flicking the clothespins on my nipples, or pinching the flesh of my tortured buttocks with his knuckles, twisting it like hot pincers.

The thunderous pain in my cramped, cowering balls was the only thing that brought my voice back to a healthy, sobering wail. They quaked in his grip as he pulled them away from my body -- squeezed them like grapes -- batted them aside like troublesome gnats as they swelled in their tight leather noose. It made my legs convulse into jelly -- even made me piss myself again, which only made him angry -- or would have, if my ass weren't also constricting and spasming around the root of his buried cock in a way that made his eyes go wide. The happy medium was a grinning, gluttonous cruelty that only fueled further torment and degradation of my balls, my belly, every inch of my bound and helpless form...

My ass had yielded to him completely by then, slack and audibly squishing as he drove it into oblivion with his fingers, his cock. In fact, every last ounce of throbbing muscle below my waist had dissolved into a quivering tool for him to use -- a sturdy, meaty channel in which to sheath his long, hard, thrusting monster of a cock. My body wasn't mine any longer, in any sense -- I was numb, plastic, watching my bound legs sway like severed tree branches as my hips and ass got pulled against his giant, grunting form...slapped, molested, bent in half...manhandled into obscene positions at the whim of his frothing lust...skewered by a needy weapon I was now only dimly aware of...a long, swollen shadow flickering across my spent nerves...a fire that refused die...

Whenever I got hard, he'd stop whatever he was doing -- no matter how much he was enjoying it -- and viciously stroke my swollen cock. Either the pain would bully it back down into softness, or he'd force me to come yet again...meek little dribbles of thin white milk that barely seemed worth the effort, and only served to stagger my breath and make me numb once more. Either way, he made sure I was limp and drained throughout the entire trial, unable to fully enjoy his hammering cock as it slammed in and out of my conquered hole -- the only thing that would have made this experience worth it in the end.

Still, somehow...in some ugly, primordial way...I was stuck in an endless, carnal loop that could only be described as...rapture. I was aimless, thoughtless, powerless in every way...a drifting mound of carbon in an ocean of strange, alien lust. Not the simple lust of the body, no...my body didn't exist...this was something else entirely...something Beyond...

I was much too far gone to realize it then, but during this long, mind-bending transformation of my flesh into his...breaking me down into smaller and smaller pieces, until nothing remained but his reflection in the empty pool of my eyes...he never came. Not once.

My shoulders were being crammed against the sweaty, scattered quilts of the bed when I began to emerge from the haze of sensation he'd been drowning me in. He was standing at full height, my cramped legs held tight against his sinewy flanks, his eyes like distant moons as they rolled back into his head, pumping deep into the Thing I'd become. I'd thought I'd known how sadistic he was, how utterly depraved. If I had known the true depths of his desire for me...or for what I represented to him, as that was all a Thing could be...I might not have had the nerve to set my malformed plan into motion...but it was far too late for that sort of thinking, even if I were capable of it.

Date night...remember. Wine and a movie. It's going to happen. After this is over with...after he's burnt himself out...keep yourself aware. Awake and alive. Be ready for that moment, whenever it comes...whatever it ends up being...and then...make him pay for this...

My numb, throbbing nipples suddenly burst into piercing, white-hot daggers -- more than enough to rip me out of my stupor. He'd slapped the clothespins off of them, artless and crude. They were still clattering across the hardwood floor as my legs bloomed, imploded, expanded with a rush of blood and endless needles of nausea -- he'd untied them, tossing the lengths of blue rope over his broad, sweaty shoulder. He was hauling me to my feet now, but I wasn't able to stand -- my legs had cramped up and fallen asleep some time ago. They were throbbing with a sickening agony that was beyond my ability to endure. I bellowed pitifully, pleading from the pit of my being, for he was the only one who could help me. I wasn't in control of my own body...his body...

He immediately laid me back down on the bed. I was twisting against the gripping, relentless pain in my legs, which was pushing me right back into tears. He had both my ankles in his strong hands seconds later, and then he was straightening my legs into the air, stretching them out, making them groan back to life as the spasms slowly died...now pushing them towards my face one at a time, stretching my hamstrings, my calf muscles, and even my buttocks...inviting blood back into them, one grinding compression at a time...now whispering something soft and warm into my ear that I couldn't quite make out, something that might have made me feel adored...

Once my legs had recovered, he carried me into the bathroom like a sack of flour. I found myself on the cold tile once more, the floor this time, slumped against the wall like a discarded mannequin with the handcuffs still clamping my wrists against my spine. I was being drenched in...something hot. Pungent. Sour.

"You really are mine now, baby boy..." came his voice from somewhere far above me, rumbling in my skull. "You'll call me Master before this is over...and you'll do it all by yourself..."

The warmth of him was gone in moments, only to be replaced by an icy jolt from the showerhead as it spewed cold water across my skin.

The water was soon warm again. He was looming over me now, his veiny, grotesquely aroused cock pressed against my hair, my forehead, funneling a burning cascade of soapy water into my eyes. I was laid on the tiled bench some moments later, and his hands were on me again...soft and firm...lathering my limp muscles with soap and water, stinging me in deep places...checking my ass for signs of lasting injury...checking my eyes for signs of life.

Focus.

I blinked up at him through the billowing steam, silent and aware. He patted my cheek after a moment, and ran his thumb across the sopping scruff of my face with something akin to tenderness.

"You lie right here, baby boy...you rest, now. You're doing so good. Holding up like afuckin champ. You've still got another couple hours in you, at least...I'm not done with you yet."

The door of the bathroom slammed shut, and then he was gone. The walls began to throb with muffled rock music, and I knew I was alone again. My mind had begun to recover itself, sharper by the second, until I was fully myself again. Awake and alive...

Over the course of too many precious minutes, hands still cuffed behind my back, I somehow managed to get to my feet. I pushed myself along the frosted glass until I was out of the steamy shower stall, now standing in the empty bathroom between baby blue walls. I shuffled over to the sink -- the foggy mirror -- the medicine cabinet.

I opened it with my teeth, my jaw, the shaking muscles of my neck and back screaming in protest. I found what I was looking for in seconds, on the second shelf of the medicine cabinet. That was the plan, then. I hadn't been sure it even existed...but it'd been here the entire time, waiting for me to find it.

Soon.

I shut the cabinet with my forehead and lurched back into the shower stall, where I collapsed into the steaming heat and the hard, shimmering tile.

Soon...

***

The bedroom was bleary and calm in the evening glow that leaked through the plastic blinds, bathing everything in sterile white. My wrists were burning where the handcuffs had been digging into them for so many hours. My shoulders were still pulled back behind me, aching sharply, forearms crossed and pinned beneath the small of my back. My body was sprawled in plain view -- he'd really done a number on me. Smeared red marks from his open hand, faintly purple bruises from his fingers and fists. My puffy nipples were obscenely swollen, over twice their normal size. My dick was only just beginning to recover from his ferocious milking. Its foreskin was puffy and swollen nearly to the size of a tennis ball, matching the pummeled pink scrotum below it, finally free of its noose.

He'd barely given me time to dry myself before he'd pushed me onto his bed, naked and cold, balls shrinking into my groin. He'd been very quick to lay me out and push my legs open, and very quick to leave the room afterward. The quilt was gone, and the sheets smelled clean, telling me he'd changed them. I stayed on my back, every part of me aching and ready to cramp...but I dared not move. I had to keep playing the part. It was the only way.

He'd keep doing what he wanted with my body, but I knew I'd already won -- he just didn't know it yet. Our positions would be very different once the sun went down, and I wasn't going to waste any energy crying over whatever brutal humiliation he had planned for me now. I only wished I were still in that dreamlike place...drifting beyond all sensation...

The wind was picking up again outside, battering the sides of the house with another groaning snowstorm that would continue well into the night. I could hear shifting and banging in other parts of the house, ominous echoes...

He finally emerged from the hallway, still just as naked as I was, cock still monstrously engorged in its studded leather sheath. His dark-furred chest was heaving a little, covered in sheen of fresh sweat, and his eyes were bright and dancing. He was carrying something. I craned my neck -- stiff black stalks, metal and plastic -- a tripod and a digital camcorder.

"What are you gonna do?" My voice was dry and low.

He grinned, white teeth against black beard, but it wasn't kind. "I don't know why I wasn't doing it before, but I'm gonna film this. Add you to my little collection. I wasn't gonna bother, but I want to remember the look on your face. I want to remember that big hairy muscle ass, and that sexy little hole of yours, exactly how they look right now...well..." He cackled. "Not a very little hole anymore, but definitely still sexy. I'll jack off to it for years, even if I never see you again."

The fact that it was even a question only hardened my resolve.

He went about setting up the tripod in front of me, positioning it between my feet at the foot of the bed. My voice was meek when I finally said something. "You're not -- you're really going to keep it? The video?"

He grinned again as he mounted the camera, but it was only a gesture this time, a reflexive social cue. "Of course I'm gonna keep it, boy. Weren't you listening? I thought you might be too good for it, something special...but it turns out you're just a special brand of trash..." He stood up and adjusted the height until it was hovering a foot or so above my open legs, tilted slightly downward. The red light flashed on, now recording every part of me it could see. It introduced a coldness to the imminent fucking that I'd never felt before...a presence of unknowable eyes and minds, peering cynically at my battered, naked body from grim futures that hadn't happened yet. It was a masturbating stranger as much as it was the hot, judgmental blonde girl in my history class...Jennifer, or Kevin...my parents...

His dick was very hard and very large, demanding most of my attention. It bobbed in his pubic hair as he moved behind the camera, bringing me into focus. "Now turn yourself over on your belly. That's right...you can squirm for it..."

Turning over was harder than it should have been, between my weary muscles threatening to give out and having my hands cuffed behind my back. I finally got onto my stomach, hissing bitterly as my swollen, impossibly sore nipples scraped against the dry cloth of the sheets.

His hand appeared at my ass, tapped it. "Put this fine thing in the air for me. That's it. Higher...there." I pushed my face into the bedding and grunted as I pulled my creaking knees up, jutting my used ass towards the camera as his warm hand guided me. My buttocks spread open as I did this, opening my hole to the faint draft of the room. He squeezed me, and his hand left my skin. I heard him positioning the camera. "That's right -- that's a beautiful shot right there...don't move."

His finger suddenly dug into me, pulling me open methodically, as if he were inspecting a horse. I felt the lovely ache of blood rushing into my bloated cock despite the dull, nagging pain -- and because of it. "Yeah -- that'll do. Don't move unless I tell you to."

His finger left me as he positioned himself at the head of the bed, his impressively dense mass hovering just above me. The mattress complained as he placed his knees on either side of my head, his hands now clamping down upon my straining shoulders to support his weight. I felt the tip of his hard cock nudge against my scalp as he did so. He took it in his hand and slapped it against my scruffy cheek. "Put it in your mouth."

I hesitated, suddenly crushed by the fact that I'd never had a man's cock in my mouth.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah -- yes, sir -- but I can't lift myself."

"No excuses." He pulled a pillow from behind his ass and shoved it underneath my chest. It gave me just enough support that my nose was touching the sticky tip of his dick. I opened my eyes.

It engulfed my vision. Huge and blushing and purple at the tip...throbbing veins against pale skin and black pubic hair...massive furry ballsack hanging below...thickly muscled thighs closing in on all sides.

"Nowput it in your goddamned mouth."

He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, straining my neck and throat. The head of his huge erection dragged along my chin, leaving a trail of sticky precum that I could smell. "After all I've done for you...after all the bits of you I've sucked on...this isn't too much to ask. Is it...?"