I Hate Queers


George positioned himself on top of me again. I could feel him sitting on my thighs stroking his cock to get it hard. And then I felt his cock pressing between my ass cheeks. This was terrible. I thought it couldn't get worse than this. But it did.

"You think you're going to like my cock in your ass?" George asked rhetorically. "I know your wife does! Marilyn begs me to fuck her ass. She says she loves the way if makes her feel filled." George pushed his cock harder between my ass cheeks. "Oh, yeah. She told me that she never let you fuck her ass. That's your loss. She has a tight little asshole and she moves her ass wonderfully when you fuck her really hard."

Shit! Will the humiliation never end? God damn it! I'd wanted Marilyn to try anal sex for years. She always denied me. Now I knew she'd been giving George her ass for some time. Was it all about humiliating me? Or did she feel like she couldn't be a "bad girl" with her husband but she could with her lover? I didn't know and I didn't see that it made any difference. She'd betrayed me with my friend. And he'd betrayed me. I'd never forgive either of them and, if I could, I'd make them both suffer as much as I was suffering right now.

Visions of revenge soothe the soul, but they can't stop a determined cock from penetrating your ass when you're tied up and exposed. George's cock pressed hard against my well-oiled sphincter and, against my conscious will, my sphincter yielded to the pressure. His cock felt enormous, but it began opening my ass. Soon I could feel him inside me.

I closed my eyes against the pain. But when George was buried deep in my ass, he said something that made me open them again. He told me that if I looked at the video, I could see Marilyn begging him to fuck her in the ass. And he was right. This looked like a different time. She wasn't on her knees. She was lying face-down on the bed. She had a pillow under her pelvis, holding her ass up slightly, and her hands were behind her, pulling her ass cheeks apart. And I could hear her saying, "Fuck my ass, George! I want you to fuck my ass."

As I watched George take Marilyn's ass, I knew exactly what she was feeling but apparently she liked it much more than I did. I was forced to listen to Marilyn screaming out how good it felt to have George fuck her ass while I experienced how terrible it felt to have him fuck mine.

Needless to say, it hurt like hell. I'd never put anything up my ass. And if I'd been inclined to do that as part of some sort of sick, sissy, sex play, I certainly wouldn't have picked something as big and hard as George's cock. But worse than the physical pain was the humiliation. And, maybe worse than even that was the fact that George was treating me like a faggot-a pussy-boy for his pleasure.

After a few minutes, the pain subsided. It didn't completely disappear, but it became tolerable. Unlike the pain, the humiliation of being betrayed and used as a pussy was not tolerable. Still, there was nothing I could do about it. I resolved to get through this and then to seek my revenge when I could get the advantage.

But George wasn't about to limit his torment of me. He may not have ever had sex with a man and he may not find me attractive, but he was certainly getting into getting into me. He began to taunt me.

"You like this, don't you. I knew from the way you reacted to my stories that you were struggling with your desire to be fucked by a real man. No one gets that agitated by the mere description of a gay scene unless he's fighting urges in himself." All this time, George was working his cock in and out of me in long, rhythmic strokes.

"It's okay. You can admit it-just between the two of us. Now that you've finally got a hard cock up your ass, you can admit that you've secretly yearned for cock-that this satisfies a need you couldn't admit, even to yourself."

"FUCK YOU!" I screamed.

George laughed. "Oh, you are. You're fucking me good with that tight little boy pussy of yours. You're getting into this, aren't you? I can feel your hips moving. You love getting fucked."

Goddamnit! Were my hips moving? If so, it was only to try to get away from George's cock. Or, at least to minimize the penetration. It's not as if I liked this. Shit! I hate faggots. Even the idea of queers sticking their dicks in each other's asses makes my stomach turn. I couldn't understand how a guy could like to feel another guy's hard cock opening his asshole and thrusting deep into his bowels.

I tried to hold very still. But George seemed to take that as a different sign that I wanted it. "Oooh," he cooed, "I see. You want it deep, don't you, you little faggot." And he rammed into me even deeper. "I'll give you the ass-fucking you've secretly wanted."

Then with one hand, he reached around me and grabbed my cock. I was semi-hard when he grabbed me. That didn't mean that I was enjoying this. It was just that as George rammed into me with his hard cock, it made my cock rub on the sheets. And the friction was doing its job. But that didn't stop George from weaving my reaction into his sick, twisted tale. "Oh, look how hard your little clitty is! You're really getting off on getting fucked by a real man, aren't you?"

When I started to protest, he lay his full weight on me, freeing his other hand to press all four fingers into my mouth. He started fucking my mouth with his hand while he continued ravaging my ass and stroking my cock. With the weight of both of us on it, George had to work to move his hand on my cock but, like I said, he's a strong guy. He was stroking me pretty well.

Despite my best efforts, I was building up to an orgasm. George sensed it and rolled us both over on our sides a bit. The ropes on my arms and legs kept me from rolling completely on my side, but I was most of the way over. George was relentless on my ass and his jacking off of my cock was bringing me to the humiliating climax I dreaded. I could look down enough to see the purple head of my cock getting closer and closer to spurting its load every time George's huge fist completed a stroke.

And then it happened. George was pointing my cock up in the air so the first jet of cum arced through the air, landing on the bed a good three feet away. Two more shots of jizz followed and then the last few squirts landed just inches from my cock. My orgasm had not only been forceful, it had been incredibly intense. I realized that you didn't have to like what was happening in order to have a mind-numbing orgasm.

I was exhausted and I felt as if all of the energy had been sapped from my body. I went limp.

"That's good. Now that you got that out of your system, you can just lie there and enjoy the feeling of satisfying your man."

Well, I didn't have a man. And I hated what George was doing to me. I wasn't enjoying this at all. But I didn't have any choice but to lie there and accept it.

"I never fucked a guy," George said as he fucked me. When he'd been working me to an orgasm, he'd been fucking me hard. But now he was moving slowly in and out of my ass. He was taking long, deep strokes. "It's not bad. I don't really like looking at your hairy ass, but you have a tight little butthole. Your ass doesn't look pretty, like Marilyn's, but it grips my cock pretty good."

He fucked me for a few more minutes before he went on. "But you know what I really like about this. It's not the sex. It's knowing how much you're hating the fact that you're starting to like the feeling of my cock in your ass."

"I don't like it, you fucker!" I immediately regretted calling him a "fucker". It was, at the moment, all too accurate.

"Oh, I think you like it all right. You just don't like the fact that you like it."

I grunted a dissent but George told me to shut up. He said he wanted to be able to focus on filling my ass with his cum.

He pulled down a pillow and put it under my hips, then rolled me back onto my stomach. Now I could barely move. My ass was thrust up for his pleasure and I was completely at his mercy. He didn't start fucking me furiously like he had been when he was making me cum. He seemed to like a slower tempo. But I could feel his orgasm building. I could hear his breathing getting ragged and felt the way his huge hands gripped my rib cage as he worked up to his climax.

From the sound of it, his orgasm was as intense as mine had been. Maybe he was telling the truth when he said he wasn't into gay sex. And, of course, I hate the very idea of faggots. But neither of us found our feelings about gay sex to interfere with the intensity of our sexual pleasure.

George slipped out of my sore ass and lay next to me panting for a long time. After George had come down from his high, I told him to untie me, but he refused. It seemed he had some things to explain to me, first.

That pissed me off. I was really not in a position of strength and I shouldn't have done anything to piss him off-at least not until I was able to extract my revenge. But I couldn't help saying, "You goddamn fucking queer!" Somehow it made me feel better to spit those words out at him.

"You really don't get it, do you Ken?" George got up and went to the bathroom. When he came back, wiping his cock with a wet washcloth, he continued. "You see, I write stories about gay sex, about cuckolded husbands, about feminized men. And I write stories about fucked up people. Many of my stories don't have happily-ever-after endings. Sometimes the bad people get away with doing bad things. So what! Those are just stories I like to turn over in my head-things that might churn up some emotional turmoil. They're not diary entries or things I want to be diary entries. If I'd ever really wanted to have sex with a man, I would have done it. (I mean, before now.) I don't have a problem with gay sex. I just don't happen to get turned on by it."

I don't think I'd ever heard George talk on for so long about anything except sports. But he wasn't through yet.

"You, on the other hand..." He left a long pause here, probably just to be sure he had my complete attention. "You seem fixated on gay sex. The slightest gay sex in a story is more than you can stand. If a story is about a woman being demeaned or abused by a guy, you're fine with that. And you'd positively like one about some guy getting the crap beaten out of him for being gay. But a hint of man-on-man sex sets you off." George put the laptop on the desk and hooked the video camera up to it. He fiddled with the computer for a while, which at least had the benefit of shutting him up. But then, when he'd done what he wanted to do, he went on.

"You know why that is?" I was considering different things I could say in response. But apparently a response from me wasn't needed. "It's because you're so fucking scared that you're gay!"

"Oh give me a fucking break! I'm so fucking sick of this, 'Anyone who is against gay sex is a closet gay' shit. That's bullshit!"

"Yeah, Ken. I agree." That surprised me. "But you're not just "against gay sex". You're positively panicked by the thought of gay sex. For you, it's not about thinking it's wrong. It's all about worrying that you secretly want it. And you think that by attacking it in every way possible, you can prove to yourself that you're not gay."

"Fuck you!"

"You did. And pretty well, too...for a first-timer."

"Untie me!"

"I'm going to. But first I have to explain some things to you." He started untying one of my legs as he "explained". "When I get you untied, you're going to want to kill me. You won't try it now because you know that I can beat the crap out of you with ease. No matter how much you think your anger will feed your strength, you know you're no match for me in any fair fight." He untied my other leg.

"But you could hurt me with a weapon. You could kill me. And I'm imagining that, over the last hour, you've had thoughts along those lines." George paused and sat down on the other bed. Apparently my hands weren't going to be released until he was finished.

"Trying something like that wouldn't be smart. You see, the video I just made is now uploaded on a site where I have lots of things I'd like to make public if anything happens to me. And, so, I've got it all automated. The website I've created, and just added our little video to, goes live in one week from my last log in. I keep logging in at least once a week, it stays private indefinitely. I miss a week, and it goes public. And when it goes public, e-mail invitations go out to everyone in my address book. In preparation for tonight, I added a lot of special people to my address book-a bunch of people from your work, the e-mail list from our church, as many of your relatives as I could track down. You know, lots of the people in your life."

George went on with his "explanation", which he'd obviously thought through carefully. "And it's not just the videos of you. All the ones of Marilyn are up, too. You can say that what I did to you was rape, but do you want to have the whole world know that before I raped you, I cuckolded you for years? Do you want them to hear Marilyn beg for my cock and scream out that no one had ever fucked her the way I did? You think tonight was humiliating. It's nothing compared to what you'd bring on yourself if you tried to get back at me."

I felt completely blocked. All the revenge scenarios I'd been thinking of seemed impossible now. I felt as powerless to right the wrong that had been inflicted on me as I'd been to resist George's assault. Maybe I'd think of something later. But for now, I was resigned to my terrible fate.

"So," he went on, "just so were clear on this. I'm going to untie you. And when I do, you're going to ask me if you can please suck my cock. You're going to ask sincerely and convincingly. When you do, I'm going to let you do that. You're going to give me a terrific blow job. You're going to be eager to please me. And, after you do-after you suck my cum down and swallow it all-I'll let you go and I'll never try to force you to do anything again." He stood up and took a step toward the bed before he stopped to wait for my answer.

"Do we have a deal?"

I nodded. George untied my hands. I rubbed them for a few minutes. When I looked up, George told me to take off my shirt. That was the easy part of what I had to do. I could feel the lump in my throat as I thought about it. I didn't know whether I could bring myself to say the words that George had scripted for me. But, really, what choice did I have?

"Can I ..." I stumbled. In fact, I stumbled three times before I managed to blurt out, "May I please suck your cock?" George didn't like the way I said it and he made me say it again. It was easier the second time, but it wasn't until the fourth time that it met George's standards.

He said "yes," and positioned me right where he wanted me-on my knees on the floor. He stood directly before me, with his fat, soft cock inches from my face. I screwed up my courage and reached up to touch his cock-the first time I'd ever held another man's cock. It felt strange. Because of his size, it felt heavy in my hand. And it felt big. It was warm and the skin was very soft and smooth.

Even as I brought it to my lips, it began to harden. I put my lips around the head of George's cock and began sucking on it while I jerked on his shaft. I gagged and felt my stomach wretch, but I managed to keep my mouth around his now rigid cock. I was determined that this was going to end as quickly as possible, so I pumped furiously while I sucked on the head of George's cock.

Surprisingly, given how recently he'd shot his load in my ass, it didn't take George long to start working toward a climax. My stomach wretched again and I had to struggle to keep his cock from hitting the back of my throat and making me gag.

And then he blew his load. He was loud, and forceful. I could feel the streams of semen filling my mouth. I had to swallow as he was still spewing. And then I swallowed again as he was finishing. My stomach was trying to push back up what I was trying to swallow down, but I managed to keep from throwing up.

George backed away and sat down on the chair by the desk for a minute. I got up and went to the bathroom. Fortunately, there was a bottle of mouthwash there. I gargled twice, finishing off the little bottle. Then I sat on the toilet, trying to expel the cum from my ass. It took a while but finally it dribbled out. I wiped and headed back to get my clothes.

George was fiddling with the computer but I didn't pay any attention to what he was doing. I just wanted to get dressed and out of there. Then I had to figure out some way to forget everything that had happened, or at least to put it behind me.

As I was putting on my clothes, George started up again. "You know what? I'm kind of sorry that I promised you that I'd never make you do anything again." I ignored him and worked on getting my pants on.

"I mean, for a guy who doesn't like even the idea of sex with a guy, you give a hell of a blow job. I wouldn't mind getting one of those from time to time." George went on with his ruminations. "And, you know what, I could probably get you to do it. After all, now I've got the video of you asking to suck my cock and then taking my load."

What the fuck? I knew I saw him turn off the video camera. George saw my confusion. "I used the camera on the laptop," he said with a very self-satisfied smirk. "Oh yeah," he continued, "I got the goods on you. And the goods are pretty good. When I looked at the video before I uploaded it, I saw that you had a hardon when you were sucking me off." I couldn't believe it and George saw the disbelief on my face. "It's true...you really did. It's clear as can be on the video. But I'm a man of my word. I said I wouldn't make you do anything ever again. And I'll stick by that."

I was almost finished getting dressed. Soon I could leave and never hear his voice again.

"But, you know what?" George said brightly. "I don't think I'll have to force you."

I just wanted to get out of there. I started for the door.

"I think you'll go home and try to put this all out of your mind." He was certainly right there. "But you won't be able to. You'll find yourself thinking about what my cock felt like in your ass when you're drifting off to sleep. You'll find yourself thinking about sucking my cock when Marilyn is sucking yours. You'll find that when you masturbate, you might begin by thinking of fucking some beautiful woman, but as you get close to shooting your load, you'll be thinking of taking my load in your mouth or having my cock split your ass cheeks." George smiled, "that's what I think."

"Well, you're fucking wrong, you goddamn cock-sucking faggot. If I ever think of this again, it will be when I'm planning some way to really fuck you up despite your little doomsday machine. If you think that I'm going to come back for you to suck your cock or let you fuck me, you're a fucking moron. That will never happen!"

I left the room, slamming the door behind me and repeating in my mind, all the way to the car, "That will never happen. That will never happen. That will never happen."

I was wrong.

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