Fleeced!

I woke up that morning to the sun shining in my eyes. Grumbling I rolled over and clutched tighter to the thick grey Sherpa blanket I was sleeping under. Winters in Minnesota get pretty cold, and central heating only does so much. Still, the sun didn't go away. Giving up on sleeping in I rolled back the blanket and stretched by long, taught body. You see, in high school and college I had been quite the athlete. Being 6'4 and 200lbs of muscle I also had quite a fair share of success with the girls too. My bright blue eyes and all American smile made sure I was never lacking in sexual partners, despite my rather soft baby-face. However, regarding sex I carried one big secret, okay maybe two. The first was despite the fact (or perhaps because) I always automatically assumed the dominant role with the women I fucked (and there were no shortage of women wanting the hot track star to hold them down and fuck them with a fairly thick seven inch cock), I had an increasingly strong desire to be the sexually submissive partner. Even while I was fucking and choking my latest conquest I couldn't stop thinking about being overpowered myself, and used for their pleasure. For some reason though, perhaps given my athleticism, I could never quite imagine a woman being able to really hold me down and use me against my will. It just didn't seem possible. Don't get me wrong; I wasn't gay in the slightest. In fact I couldn't imagine every actually having feelings for a man, but I'd occasionally indulge myself in clicking on a few gay porn links just to find the dominant energy I was craving. Well, that wasn't the only reason.

The other reason leads me to my second, and much more embarrassing secret- for as long as I could remember I had been incredibly attracted to the texture of soft fleece or Sherpa material. It was my greatest shame, but there was nothing I could do about it. Just like fur or leather fetishists, even the sight, let alone the touch, of fleece clothing made me incredibly horny. I had only ever told one other person in my life about this; an ex-girlfriend who was surprisingly understanding. She was even more than willing to indulge me, either by letting me fuck her in a Patagonia sweater, or wearing her Sherpa neck warmer when she blew me. It was incredible, but we separated over a year ago, and from what I could tell from the internet, this specific niche fetish was almost entirely exclusive to males for some unknown reason. Still, despite these factors, I was entirely convinced I would never actually have any sexual experiences with a man, aside from the fleece and domination parts, it just seemed gross. Which leads me back to my day...

I finally rolled out of bed, still groggy and desperately in need of some coffee. Still in my underwear I trolled the kitchen for some to no avail. I shouted to my roommate Parker,

"Hey do we have any more coffee?" No answer. Must be out. I had lucked out finding Parker as a roommate. A mutual friend set us up when I moved to the cities and so far it had worked out perfectly. He was incredibly clean and neat, and very respectful 95% of the time. The other five percent were the weekend nights where he'd bring back someone and loudly fuck the shit out of them, unfortunately keeping me up, but that was tolerable given everything else. You see, Parker was bi, but a very dominant bi. He'd fuck the shit out of just about everything and everyone. I thought I was pretty successful sexually, but Parker always had someone over. It made sense, he was six foot, not as muscular as me, but with an athletic build none the less. His two biggest weapons as far as I could tell were his chiseled jaw and eight inch, soda can cock- I know this because just about everyone he fucks loudly moans about it.

That morning though, he was gone, and we were out of coffee. Determined to get some caffeine, I started fill up the kettle for some tea, but as I turned on the faucet, I absentmindedly forget to open up the top, and sprayed water all over my underwear. Cursing to myself I went back to my room to change out of my underwear, but being too lazy to do laundry regularly, I had no underwear left. Whatever, I'll just put on a pair of joggers I thought. I grabbed the first pair in my drawer, throwing them on commando and quickly realized they were the Sherpa lined ones I recently bought for my own pleasure. You see, by that point I had accumulated quite the collection of fleece and Sherpa clothing items, either for sex with my ex or just to jack off in. Feeling the Sherpa fabric resting against my cock, I started to grow hard again. It didn't help that I had just woken up as I was always extra-horny in the morning. Still, Parker was gone; I might as well take the opportunity to pleasure myself. Going over to my closet, I slipped on one of my Patagonia sweaters, and pulled out a long, thick Sherpa infinity scarf to cover my face while I jacked off. I liked to blindfold and gag myself with fleece and imagine someone was holding me hostage and fucking me against my will. It also didn't hurt that the feeling of the fabric against my face made me incredibly hard. At that very moment though, I heard something like the front door closing. Thinking nothing of it, I bent over my bed, face down ass up, lying self-gagged over my Sherpa blanket, and begin stroking myself off thinking of how I used to fuck my ex like this. I must of looked incredibly embarrassing but that thought only made it hotter. After edging myself a few times, the floor near my room unmistakably creaked. Quickly stopping and pulling my pants up, I pulled off the infinity scar, tossed it on my bed and went to the living room to investigate. No one. Then on a hunch, I went over to Parker's room. There, Parker just sat on his bed, scrolling through his phone. Breaking the awkward silence I addressed him.

"Oh hey, where were you this morning?"

He looks up, seemingly slightly embarrassed.

"I just went to the store to grab some eggs for breakfast."

"Nice, sounds good." I clumsily replied.

At that point I noticed his outfit. He was wearing an expensive cream colored, hooded Sherpa sweater with navy joggers. Even more noticeable was the shape of his large cock pressing out from the joggers in the crotch area. Remembering the creaking...

"Hey were you uhh, just over by my room?" I asked stammering. He awkwardly chuckles.

"If you're asking if I saw you beating off in that weird fuzzy outfit you were wearing, yes I did." He motions to my Patagonia sweater and turns back to his phone. Growing red and incredibly embarrassed I hastily blurt,

"I like the texture okay, I know its weird but I can't help it. Sue me."

"Jeez jeez relax I wasn't judging. I get it, it's kind of bedroom casual. It's a reasonable association." Taken completely aback I give a small gasp.

"Wait what?"

He motions to what he's wearing.

"I get it, its kinda hot actually. Like if you're always fucking on a fuzzy blanket, or wearing fuzzy pajamas why wouldn't it start to turn you on?"

Blushing and almost even more embarrassed I respond.

"Wait are you serious? I've never met anyone with the same kind of fetish before."

"I mean, its not my fetish but I get it. You want to feel my jacket?" He asks. Cautiously I accept and go over to the couch and gently stroke the material. He smells nice. Like he was wearing a hit of cologne.

"Damn, that's nice. Pretty soft."

"Yeah, I like it. Yours is nice too." He gently reaches over and feels my sweater next to my waist. I slightly wince from the touch but he grasps it firmly and confidently regardless. I feel myself get slightly turned on. This is like something out of a surreal fantasy. I discretely look over at his cock once more. It's even larger and harder than before. Surprised, my cock reflexively jumps erect- a detail that doesn't escape him. He gives me a sly smirk and comments,

"So you like that? Maybe you're a little bi-curious yourself."

I nervously chuckle and try to slide away but he grabs me by the waist and pushes me over.

"Wait -" I try to protest but while I decide whether or not to fight back he decisively grabs the back of my neck and uses the leverage to push me on my stomach before I can make up my mind to resist. Understanding the seriousness of the situation, I desperately try to push myself up, but by this point its too late, he's got me pinned. I feel him climb on top of me, dragging his massive cock between by ass cheeks and grinding on me.

"Hey cut it out!!" I cry, but he just keeps rubbing against me.

"Shut up whore, I think you want this. I know you love to listen to me fucking every weekend. And I know as long as you're bundled up in all this fleece you're not going to resist a single thing I do, so basically you're my free fuck toy right now."

I want to protest, but he's pretty much right. I should be able to fight back but by this point he has too good of a position on me and I'm not strong enough to throw him off. I'm finally getting overpowered by a dom and treated like a submissive fleece wearing twink that I am. Face down on his bed I notice that it's covered with his own navy Sherpa blanket. It was like he knew it would set me off. At this point I quietly let out a quiet moan without thinking. Big mistake.

"Oh you really like this, you are just a little faggot slut. Where's that scarf you were using?" I try not to say anything but he tightens his hands around my neck.

"I said, where's that fuzzy scarf you were using?"

"It's on my bed." I softly, shamefully replied. He got up and marched over to my room. This was my chance. I could make a break for it if I wanted. I could just run away and he couldn't catch me. I could probably even fight him off if I had too. If I didn't, I knew he was going to come and fuck me. I don't know what came over me, but the choice seemed to big, and I just froze there, laying on the couch. In a couple seconds he returned with my thick white, Sherpa infinity scarf I was beating off while wearing earlier.

"LOL, this is a women's scarf you fucking twink." With that, he mounts me and wraps the scarf around my face so that the soft fabric tightly covers my neck, mouth, nose and nearly over my eyes. I try to protest but my words are muffled by the thick fabric smushing into my face. He grabs me by my hair and pulls me up to look him in his eyes.

"You like that whore?" Before I can do anything he holds his phone up in his other hand and snaps several pictures of me dressed up like a little slutty fleece bunny, being manhandled by him.

"If you ever tell anyone about this, these pictures go on the internet for everyone in the world to see. Still gagged, I softly moan into the fleece in understanding.

"Good, now I'm going to fuck you like a little bitch." Without relinquishing his grip on my hair he stands up over top of me and pulls my head up to face his raging hard cock pushing through his joggers. Without saying anything he just mashes my face into it and grinds the large cock up against my gagged and bound face. Strangely enough, I actually find it quite arousing.

Sensing my acquiescent body language he flips down his joggers, revealing the eight-inch, throbbing veiny monster and dragging it across my face.

"Now you're going to do what I tell you. You're going to deep throat me and suck me dry okay bitch?" I can't do anything but week mumble my assent.

"Good you whore." Wit that he pulls down the fleece and holding my head forces his cock into my mouth. I stretch my mouth open to allow all of it in and before I know it, I can feel the head pushing down the back of my throat. It's taste reminds me of the smell of a runner fresh back from a winter run, not fresh but slightly alluring. I don't know what comes over me at this point and I actually open my mouth further to allow the rest of him in. I actually sort of enjoy being his pleasure receptacle. The way his strong hands just hold me there while he mindlessly strokes in and out of my mouth is so degrading and such a turn on. I'm willing to do just about anything for him now. He begins to just face fuck me, a straight jock on his knees, in the middle of the living room. I moan and slurp, trying to eat as much of his cock as I can and please my new master. I feel so hot and horny, like I can't take enough of his cock within me at once. I feel the drool starting to run down my cheek. He starts grunting louder and louder and firmly takes a hold of the back of my head. Before I know it some warm hot liquid starts pumping down the back of my throat. There's so much of it though and it begins to back up and quickly I have to break off to swallow my mouthful and as I pull away another few jets of hot white cum pump out all over my face and the fleece. He quickly pulls out his phone and snaps a few more pictures. Me, a disgraced jock, who just got his face used and painted in another man's cum, kneeling before him with desperate eyes begging for more. Feeling weak and with cum still dripping across my face and clothes, I fall back down onto the blanket, unsure and ashamed, yet secretly so turned on from what I had just done.

"Oh you'll make a good toy you little bitch. Look at you, so big and tough yet you just let another man use you as a human cum rag." As I stare blankly still processing he pulls up the scarf gag again, climbs back on top me pushing my face down into the blanket with one hand and pulling down my joggers over the other. I feel his soft Sherpa covered chest pressing down into me. It smells nice and judging from the taught muscles underneath, I know that I'm helpless underneath him. No matter how much I knew I should resist, it was clear that he had the stronger willpower, and he was entirely determined to fuck me no matter what. Before another thought can register, I feel something hot and hard poking at my asshole. Despite how gay it is, I can't help myself from squirming in anticipation. Sensing it he addresses me as his slave.

"I won't fuck you until you ask me to." My thoughts race. Really? After utterly degrading me and using my face as a cum sock he's going to make me beg for it too? But in the end I can't help myself from just submitting to such a dominant personality.

"Plfeese fwck mh." I quietly, incomprehensibly mumble into my gag.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you, I think you have something over your mouth?" He cruelly responds.

"Plfeese fwck mh." I try to shout, the sound muffled by the gag I'm wearing.

"If you say so twink." And with that he shoves the entirety of his cock into me at once. For a brief moment it is incredibly painful, and I squirm underneath his weight. But he just holds me there, cock inside me like I've done to so many women before. Soon the pain begins to reside, being replaced by a hot tingly sensation like I'm a bitch in heat that just desperately needs cock to function. At this point, I am truly his slave. I will do anything for his cock and my body goes limp as I let myself go and embrace being a pathetic bottom. He begins thrusting, slow at first, but soon just going faster and faster eventually just pumping into me carelessly, selfishly, using me for his own pleasure. I can feel his soft Sherpa jacket weighing on top of me and his hot breaths radiating through the fabric on my neck. Still impaled on his cock I arch my back to let him fuck me smoother and harder. His grip on my hair and shoulders tightens as he thrusts into me faster and faster. For the first time, I physically can't stop myself from moaning as his cock stretches my asshole and strokes against my prostate. I feel him rearranging my guts and filling me with his huge cock while my face bounces off the Sherpa blanket below. Suddenly he gives a loud deep masculine grunt and a long moan. I feel a hot, viscous sensation deep inside me as he fills me up with his cum. The tension flows out of both of us as he collapses his entire weight on top of me. I'm going to enjoy being his bitch.