Make it Home

At the sound of the man's voice, Mouth immediately spit out all of Tom's cum that he had not already swallowed and began running back through the picnic area towards the powerful outline. Tongue also took off immediately, saying nothing, just running.

They were at the outline's side in no time, and he was not happy. He was whispering now, at least Tom imagined so, as his hands continued to gesticulate aggressively, pointing to the ground, to the two men, to the picnic area and finally, to the two RV's. Throughout, the two young men kept their heads down, they nodded and perhaps spoke, it was hard to tell, and eventually, they pulled off their shorts and their tennis shoes and cast them aside to where the man seemed to be pointing.

The outlined man stepped forward and took both of their cocks, one in each hand and seemed to be exploring them. Without warning, both of his hands flew up and each young man got a resounding slap on the face. Then a second. Tom was startled. He looked but there were no cars for nearly 200 feet other than his. And the few cars that were closer to the bathrooms had their engines on, the A/C likely turned to max. Nothing moved at the sound of their obvious punishment. The outline pointed to the clothes on the floor and to one of the RV's. The two young men grabbed their clothing and walked around the corner and out of Tom's view.

Tom considered going back to sleep but what he had just witnessed kept replaying in his mind, as if he had seen something forbidden, something that crossed the lines of basic human dignity; lines he was too close to crossing himself. Perhaps he'd already blown past them, but this was the first time he was seeing the dynamic as an outsider. Why were the young men so willing to accept it, they had even offered to let him beat them -- whatever that meant -- as long as they could continue to suck him off. Why not let the sucking be the thing? Why did he feel the urge to slap Rory the first time he offered to blow his dick?

Tom stared up into the sky, trying to formulate some theory of the events. His mind went back to Rory. A week after the sophomore had sucked his dick, Rory had come by Tom's room. One of the privileges of being a star athlete was a room to himself and Tom had one of the nicer setups around with a queen bed, a desk, and a small couch.

"Can I come in?" Rory had asked.

"Yeah, sure," Tom said, stepping back and opening the door wide.

Rory looked freshly showered. His normal tussle of blonde hair with large curls was combed back, still wet. He was wearing a freshly laundered polo shirt that accentuated every muscle, especially his arms and chest where the fabric seemed stretched to capacity. Rory stepped in and sat down on the couch, Tom took a seat on the desk chair nearby.

"What's up?" Tom asked, grabbing a tennis ball and squeezing it mindlessly.

Rory looked at him, he was shirtless, wearing just a pair of shorts, no underwear. Sitting there, playing with the tennis ball, Rory saw the ripples under the athlete's skin with each squeeze of the ball. From the tendons and muscles on his forearm, the veins that popped when they filled with blood to push oxygen to whatever muscle was contracting, to his bicep and his upper chest; it was all beautiful to him. Especially in his seated position, Tom's pecs seemed to sit lower, giving them a fuller look. His abdominals gave an equally masculine impression, with a dusting of hair, some of it bleached by Tom's time spent shirtless in the sun, and thin folds of skin laid effortlessly over thick bands of muscles. The only article of clothing he was wearing was a pair of basketball shorts that might as well have been advertising, thick uncut cock lives here. The outline was unmistakable and pulled at Rory's eyes as if by tractor beam.

But Rory had come to talk and he fought to stay focused. "Are you pissed at me?" Rory asked, his expression revealed a vulnerability Tom did not immediately know how to manage or address.

Tom dismissed the question, "Nah, why would I be?"

"You haven't called or talked to me once since -- since last week," Rory said, his eyes now fixed on the floor next to his feet.

Tom's reply reeked of snark, "Of course I have, I told you not to eat the kimchi at lunch the other day, and I congratulated you on the win against Stanford. Why the fuck are you being so sensitive? Are all cocksuckers this sensitive?"

Rory seemed hurt.

Tom seemed annoyed. "Look, stop pretending to be all butt hurt just because you want to slurp on my cock again. Just ask, you don't have to pull a fucking Casey and come in here with drama." He stood up and dropped his shorts, stepping out of them. He was now completely naked, his soft, thick dick and large egg-sized testicles hanging very low against his legs.

Rory froze, he had clearly not expected this.

"The fuck!" Tom yelled, "I offer you the best cock on the team, maybe on campus, and you just sit there, get the fuck out!" Tom bent down to grab his shorts.

"Wait!" Rory blurted. "Wait, please, sir."

Tom smiled and stood straight again, grabbing his cock and slapping his hand with it. He then took a step towards Rory who had quickly pulled off his clothes and was now on his knees. He was about to take Tom into his mouth when he looked up, "No more hitting me, ok?" he seemed to be begging. "You can say anything you want, call me whatever you want, but the hitting is too much, I feel like shit."

"You're the one that wants the cock, why do you set the rules, faggot?" Tom sneered.

As if to prove his point, Tom grabbed Rory by his blond hair and pulled his head back so that he was now staring up at the ceiling, his eyes filled with the bright dorm room lights; he could see very little else. With his free hand, Tom grabbed the base of his growing cock and started to smack Rory's face as hard as he could. This had the desired effect of quickly engorging his manhood with blood, filling it so that it became harder and each new blow stung all the more. He then took advantage of Rory's already submissive posture and without warning, shoved the length of his fully erect cock deep into Rory's gullet.

"You want the cock, I don't need your throat, there are a million like it within five miles. They would all fall on their knees immediately if I pull out this cock. You know it, faggot, don't you. That's why you, a Division I athlete on a fucking full ride are taking whatever the fuck I do to you! Do you understand? You do not ever disrespect me that way again and lay down conditions as if I am the one on my knees, craving a man's dick. It's not me, it's you that wants it, am I clear?" Instinctively, Tom was interrogating the degree of submission Rory was willing to accept.

"Yeeff, ffir," came the reply through gags and tear soaked eyes; apparently they had not yet hit his limits.

After a face fuck that felt better than any pussy he had ever experienced, Tom decided he wanted Rory's actual pussy. He ordered the handsome teen onto his bed and tried at first to push in without lube. "I've never -" Rory seemed to be vying for clemency or maybe just a little lube.

"Do you think I care?" Tom snapped. "You can leave anytime, I am not telling you to stay. You have never...but holy fucking shit, here you are with your ass in the air spread open like a fucking Bangkok whore!"

"Do you want to leave or do you want to shove some fingers in your hole to loosen that virgin pussy for your papa? Those are the fucking choices, pick one." Tom growled.

Rory did not hesitate, he punched his head down on the bed and took one hand and reached back to pull his cheeks further apart. His other hand, which he put back in his mouth repeatedly for more moisture, worked his hole quickly, going from one finger to three in the space of a few minutes. Tom sat back on his desk chair and provoked his former friend, waving his cock, jerking it slowly and mocking his want.

"You come in here begging for my cock, faggot? It's what you really wanted right? You come in here pretending to talk about how mean I was. Why? You wanted access to all my inches and these fat balls that I know you fucking love. Isn't that right cocksucker?" Tom taunted.

"Yes, sir," Rory replied, his voice a faint whimper as he was twisting three fingers in and out of his sphincter.

"Not a hair in sight," Tom observed, coming closer and spanking Rory's ass. "You knew why you came, you love cock, stop pretending to be anything other than a fag that loves dick. Who walks around with a perfectly hairless ass? Someone who wants men to fuck him, someone with a filthy hungry coochie! Maybe if you were honest I wouldn't have to point this shit out. I hate dishonest people and I know what you really want is a dick up your ass, so I am going to help you stop lying about your feelings 'cause the only one that matters is this one!"

As he spoke, Tom had been slapping his cock into Rory's open trench, teasing the star athlete with the weight and force of the heavy sausage slamming into the gap between his ass cheeks. But with his last word, Tom shoved his hard as granite unit as far as it would go into Rory's virgin hole. The feeling shocked and surprised both men. Rory was in immediate searing pain. He screamed into the mattress and gripped and clawed at the sheets like a maniac. Tom felt the warmest, softest, tightest hole he had ever had the privilege of fucking. Even Teresa Sommers who had let him pop her cherry, was not this warm, or this accessible. He never could get all the way inside her. Her pain was so bad she pulled away from him and refused to ever let him fuck her again. He was reduced to mediocre oral and quite lousy hand jobs for the month they stayed together after the failed fuck.

But no one was pulling away tonight. In spite of the feeling he was being torn into pieces and that his ass must be in bloody shreds, Rory hung on. He was lucky that Tom was enjoying the tightness and did not want to cum too fast, so he was not pumping aggressively. This gave Rory time to adjust and by the time Tom had started to pick up a stronger and faster rhythm, Rory was enraptured by the deep dicking he was receiving.

"Your balls, I love how they slap my ass," Rory moaned. "Your dick is so fucking huge -- oh -- so fucking huge. Shit!"

"Finally, some honesty from you fucking homo. Tell me how much you love my cock, cause I got me a tight sleeve here that I am dying to paint white," He replied, giving Rory another spank on his ass.

"Tom, your cock feels so fucking huge -- it fucking burns -- my hole is on fucking fire -- oh shit -hmmmmmm- fuuuuck -- so good!" Rory was moaning, squirming and squealing over the cock he had fantasized about for two years. He started to push his ass back to meet Tom's thrusts.

"That's right, I am properly enjoying your poof hole, that's some good fucking shit! I may give you cock again if you keep it this tight. Hmmmmm. So warm and silky, it's like your guts are made of hot pizza dough, it's all -- fuck -- soft and wraps around so tight -- oh god. Hmmmmm. Shiiit. Oh Fuck! I'm gonna -- Gonna -- Fuuuuck!" he cried out, falling onto Rory's back, his muscles convulsing as thick ropes of his personal recipe sauce filled Rory.

He laid on top of Rory for a few minutes, Rory refused to move, Tom's dick was still inside him and not wanting to lose it, he waited. When Tom recovered sufficiently, he stood up and sprawled out on the couch. "Clean my dick and get out," he ordered.

Tom thought about this as he pulled his shorts back up, slipped on his flip flops and walked silently over to the RVs. Only one had lights on. Though all the slat blinds were shut, Tom believed he might still be able to peer inside and he approached the part of the RV that seemed to have the most movement inside. As he got close enough, he turned a corner and was surprised to see Tongue sitting on the floor outside, naked. He was wearing a cock cage and a metal collar around his neck, the other end of the collar tied to a bar welded onto the side of the RV. The same metal bar to which the two dogs were tied.

Tom held his finger to his lips and Tongue kept quiet. The dogs noticed the stranger and growled but Tongue calmed them and they went back to laying around in the maddening 3am heat. Tom peered through the window. Inside, two men had tied Mouth's hands to his feet and laid him on a harness. His ass was completely available, exposed and gaped out as if someone were fucking him with a whale dick. The deep red tunnel, open and begging to be filled, began to have an effect on Tom, especially after just replaying taking Rory's virgin hole in his mind while he was up on the picnic table.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grip his cock. Tongue had seen him get hard and had slipped his hand inside the leg of Tom's shorts, easily reaching the monster. Tom waved at him to go but did not push him away immediately, his eyes fixed on the scene inside where one of the men was using a massive dildo, at least 20 inches long and maybe 10 in circumference, to further expand the size of Mouth's asshole. The other was gripping Mouth's balls tightly, pulling them as if he were plucking stubborn fruit from a tree. Mouth, for his part, was eagerly sucking on his torturer's large dick. Slurping eagerly as if he had not just sucked another cock less than an hour prior.

"You were a bad fucking slave," the man with the massive dildo yelled as he shoved half of it into Mouth. "We still need to fuck but this will make it so you don't feel shit for a week, Tyler. You don't deserve to feel Daddy fucking you, fucking useless slut. A piece of shit that can't follow directions doesn't get to feel a man's cock inside him."

Tyler nodded and continued to suck on the one cock being offered to him. At this point Tongue, who was apparently named Tanner, was trying to stretch his chain so he could suck on Tom's dick. With the chain limiting his reach, he began trying to pull on Tom to come closer.

Tom knelt down, "What the fuck is this? Do you want to get out of here? I can take you somewhere safe."

Tanner seemed confused by the offer, "I am safe, I'm with Daddies." Having answered the question to his own satisfaction, he went back to his immediate purpose, "Come here and let me suck your dick again, I saw it get hard."

"You're safe?" Tom said, in a hushed but bewildered tone. "You're tied up outside an RV in the middle of nowhere and your friend is tied up inside and getting plowed by a fucking gorilla dildo."

Tanner smiled. He reached back behind his neck and pressed on a latch. His collar swung open. He did not take it off. He simply brought the two pieces back together and snapped them in place. "Now can I suck your dick? Please!"

Tom stood straight, shook his head and walked away. He went back up to his makeshift bed and laying there, he dialed a phone number.

"Hey, it's Tom, you on the road yet? Where? Come back. I'm less than an hour from you, at the Mohawk Rest Area on I-8. Yeah, see you soon."

Rory arrived an hour later. Tom had his eyes focused on the night sky, his ears alert for the arrival of a car. He would be easy to spot. The lights in the RV had only recently been turned off and except for the rare motorist stopping to use the bathrooms, there was very little movement. When he heard Rory's car, a two year old Ford Edge, pull up next to Tom's beat up Corolla, Tom immediately sat up.

Rory stepped out of his vehicle and not seeing Tom inside the Corolla, dialed Tom's number on his cell phone.

"I'm up on the hill, I was trying to sleep outside. Walk straight up, about 100 feet," Tom whispered into his phone.

"You're not going to fuck me up are you, Tom?" Rory asked, "I gotta see my mom tomorrow and she'll see marks."

"No, buddy, I promise," Tom said, "You know I don't lie."

That was true, there were some qualities missing from his repertoire that would have made the attractive, young athlete an absolute catch for any man or woman, but honesty was something he had in droves.

Rory had driven back an entire hour, he hoped there would be dick involved, where Tom was concerned, that was quite likely. He started walking blindly up the hill, eventually deciding, as a desert kid himself, to turn on his phone light to keep from stepping on any biting critters on the floor. Suddenly he heard a soft whistle to his right and he knew it was Tom. Rory found him sitting on top of the table, his legs spread open, his shoeless feet on the bench below. Tom smiled and signaled for Rory to sit between his legs. Rory tried, his instinct was to sit facing Tom, assuming the hung jock had called him to blow his cock. But Tom stopped him, turned him around and then pushed on his shoulders so his back was to the cock he had just driven an hour to suckle.

Instead, Rory felt Tom's arms wrap around him, resting on his pecs, Tom's fingers lightly pinching his nipples. He reached under Rory's t-shirt and pulled it off, setting it aside on the table, and went back to playing with Rory's sensitive udders.

"What's up Tom," Rory asked. "Are you ok?"

Tom kissed Rory on the cheek, "I'm great, cocksucker. I just wanted to see you and ask you a couple questions. I knew you were just behind me, so I figured I'd call."

Rory was from Scottsdale, just north of Phoenix but both men traveled the same I-8 corridor for most of their journey.

"What did you want to know?" Rory asked.

"Are you afraid of me, Rory?" Tom asked in reply.

"No, why would I be?" Rory responded naturally.

"You were scared to come up right now, why was that?" Tom reminded him of their conversation just a few minutes ago.

"I wasn't scared you would do something to me, like hurt me, but you fuck around a lot, you slap, and I didn't want my mom to see some massive hand print or a fat cock shaped bruise on my face, I don't think you would actually hurt me though," Rory insisted, his tone clear and confident.

"Hmmmm," Tom thought about this. His hand dropping slowly until his fingers were pushing into Rory's loose jogging shorts which he loved to wear when driving.

"What's going on?" Rory asked, "You never touch my dick, you never even ask if I came?"

"Do you? Jizz? Do you jizz when we fuck around?" Tom asked, wrapping his fingers around Rory's cock. It was a nice cut dick, hard as diamonds, not huge, perhaps just under seven inches.

Rory felt his head tilting back into Tom, almost involuntarily. He moaned as Tom's grip tightened and began to jerk him slowly. "That feels good, but why do you care? You never care."

"Answer my question, you fucking cunt." Tom growled, low and urgent into Rory's ear. The intense sound and vibrations from Tom's throat accentuated the pleasure Rory was already feeling.

"A couple of times, hmmmmm. That feels so good. You don't have to make me feel good, Tom. Fuck, that's nice. I know I'm just a cum rag to you." Tom had started nibbling on Rory's ear, breath, tongue and teeth were all stimulating his lobes and the tender skin on his neck just behind the ear. Rory had chills going up and down his spine.

"I made you feel that way, huh?" Tom asked while he joined his lines of attack, all at once nibbling on Rory's ear, twisting a nipple with one hand and jerking his cock with the other.

Rory gripped Tom's legs to either side of him, massaging down until he reached Tom's feet. He had always loved how manly they looked, the high arch, the perfect alignment of his toes, the size of prominence of his big toe, there was an inescapable masculinity to those feet and he had never dared ask to touch them, never mind massage them at will. "It's OK -- hmmmm- shit, this is good -- you're fucking awesome -- it's OK, it's who you are," Rory replied.

That last one stung Tom, but he deserved it. He bent further forward and leaned in until he could reach Rory's lips and he kissed him. Rory was beyond shocked and kissed Tom back, cautiously at first but he quickly lost himself in the taste and feel of the strong lips and the talented tongue. Tom felt Rory give himself to him in a different way, more for pleasure than disordered need. It was a feeling he captured in the kiss where at first Rory opened his mouth, waiting for Tom to do whatever Tom wanted to do. As the kiss built, Rory became a participant, taking and giving, sucking on his lips, licking Tom's tongue, he even felt Rory's hand caressing the back of his neck.