Neurofucker Ch. 01

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The Pink Cushion.
5.2k words
4.39
33.9k
8
2

Part 1 of the 6 part series

Updated 09/25/2022
Created 10/03/2010
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The exclusive men's club of The Pink Cushion was built in the shape of a heart. Its gigantic double domed roof caressed the clear blue evening sky like voluptuous, sunburnt buttocks. The warm glow from the fat sun on the horizon bathed the building in deep orange. It was balanced precariously on its point with nothing visible supporting its sides. At the v shape of its base was the inverted triangle of the front door.

I looked down at myself before knocking. My body was young, tall, slim, athletic, dark skinned and I found myself very handsome. The new sensation of having a cock was strange. It felt as if a significant part of me was focussed on a place outside my body. My tight pants pressed against the organ, giving me a nice and sexy feeling. The absence of breasts was more disturbing. My chest felt hollowed out and incomplete. I felt myself all over and was pleased by the hardness of my muscles but, as I struck what I hoped was a masculine pose, my fist found no place to rest on my flat hip and slipped off.

I lifted the hinged genitals of the naked boy rendered in brass, a relief sculpture moulded into the door, and banged them against his yellow groin a few times.

The brass boy said, "Please confirm your age before entering."

I cleared my throat and said, "Forty."

I was shocked by my voice. My own, but unfamiliar. So deep and masculine!

The door opened, or rather puckered, and grew a hole which quickly broadened enough to allow me to enter. The sphincter shut behind me and straight away I found myself in the brothel's warm and luxurious reception room. Perfumes of all kinds wafted into my nostrils, their aphrodisiac properties immediately making themselves apparent to my cock which twitched in my pants.

I stood in a large hall dominated by a huge staircase which wound its way up and up, bifurcated, and continued spiralling in two directions, far into the myriad upper stories. The stairs stopped at balconies and galleries and continued on for as far as I could see. The décor was overwhelming with red, pink, orange, black and occasional touches of deep purple. There were soft velvet and leather furnishings, velvet drapes, a red carpet and soft pink lighting provided by enormous chandeliers. These resembled inverted fountains of strawberry milkshake and hung from a ceiling, painted by an artist of incomparable skill, that depicted nymphs, naiads, satyrs and beautiful, naked angels sporting amidst clouds and ocean waves.

I nearly threw up.

However, I was not here for art. I turned my attention to the people around me, all of them male and all of them beautiful, lounging together on the floor or on chairs and sofas. I was drawing interested glances from many and was glad that I had chosen a dark skin to conceal my blushes. I was approached by one of the waiters and I asked him for a Southern Comfort with ice. As he walked away I admired the movement of his tight bum beneath his hot pants. Those, and the matching white dicky bow were all he wore.

I found a comfortable poof to sit on and smiled shyly at the other guests. I felt a little overdressed. Many were shirtless already or even naked. I felt a little nervous as I had assumed that people would find private rooms before enjoying themselves that much. I saw no one actually doing it yet, so I tried to relax and enjoy the drink the waiter had brought me and the admiring looks I was receiving.

I felt a familiar tap on my shoulder and turned to see Megahard Mary's ever smiling masculine face regarding me in that over familiar manner I so detested. Dressed as ever in her smart pastel pink skirt suit and her blonde hair immaculately coiffed she had never looked so incongruous.

"Irma, there is someone at the door," she told me in her bright and businesslike voice. "Do you accept or decline?"

"Fuck it!" I told her.

Mary smiled in such a way as to demand physical violence be visited upon it.

"Accept," I sighed and was immediately chucked out of my fantasy, back into my one bedroom flat in Deckard House.

The Hypnozap I had taken made me extremely groggy, so I popped an upper to counter its effect. I pulled the wire roughly from my left nostril, left it hanging from the laptop on my bedside table and stumbled to the door. I knew who it was. God, she was a bitch!

Alexi greeted me with her black lipped, ring pierced smile. She was wearing her khaki vest and combats, had left some of her rings and studs out, but only some, and was sporting a new hair style. It was maroon, spiky on one side and flat on the other. Her laser tattoos had spread and now covered much more of her than when she had last bothered me, five hours before. She looked sweaty and unkempt. I found her utterly repulsive and she made me ashamed to be a woman.

"Hi, Irma!" she greeted me chummily in her northern English accent.

With so much black mascara she looked like a shaved panda. I marked the telltale redness around her left nostril. I tapped my own nostril. She seemed to get the message and rubbed her nose self consciously. We stared at each other for a long moment. I wondered how long it would be before I could get back to my fantasy. Eventually I shrugged in bewilderment and shook my head in irritation.

Alexi coughed and asked coyly, "Would you like to come out for a drink with me, Irma?"

She raised her innocent eyes inquiringly. I could hardly believe it. This was the third time today.

"No, Alexi," I said firmly, but not without a faint tone of sadness, just to be polite. "I've got some paperwork I need to catch up on."

I thought an apology was unnecessary, and also likely to give her encouragement. She smiled broadly, masking her disappointment well.

"OK, I understand," she said, blew me a kiss and went into her apartment.

Fuck's sake, I thought, and slammed my door. Won't that fucking dyke ever get the message?

In the bathroom I splashed water onto my face to dispel some of the scumminess I felt Alexi had transmitted to me. In the mirror I noticed with wry amusement that my own nostril was looking sore. I was hardly in a position to make censorious judgements on others about that. My boobs were also sore due to my period. I went back to bed, took another Hypnozap pill and plugged myself back in.

A floorshow was in progress. Naked boys with their faces altered to resemble movie actresses were riding pink poodles the size of horses in between the guests. One rider with the face of Marilyn Monroe was operating two turntables balanced on the poodle's back. Another poodle, apparently ridden by Elizabeth Taylor, carried a huge PA, but seemed to be able to cope easily with the load. A mash up of Lady Gaga's 'Poker Face' and Vivaldi's 'Agitata Da Due Venti' blasted from the speakers. People were dancing and clapping. Some were rubbing the poodles' thick hair until their forearms were buried in it. The dogs were well trained and only barked occasionally, but each bark was a roar that easily drowned out the music. The poodles passed close to me, forcing me to lift my feet onto the chair beside me. When they had passed I felt my eyes drawn to the other side of the room near the bottom of the staircase.

A Greek god, complete with laurels in his hair, stood with one foot on the bottom step, proudly thrusting out his chest and ample genitals for everyone's delectation. I decided that here was no place to beat about the bush, so I stood and approached him as casually and as coolly as possible, sipping my drink and slipping one hand into the back pocket of my pants. I admired his noble profile, the rudder nose, the jutting chin, while I waited for him to notice me. He continued to gaze into the middle distance, seemingly at nothing.

I cleared my throat, but then, realising that would hardly be a loud enough signal under the circumstances, I shouted, "Hello!"

He turned his level gaze to me. I was confronted with the palest green eyes I had ever seen. They were hollow and cold and I shivered despite the room's warmth. They seemed not to have focussed on me and were fixed on a point somewhere just behind my head.

"Hey up!" called a young, piping voice.

On a red velvet chaise longue was a figure naked save for a straw hat and a navy ribbon around his neck. The teenaged boy, with skin smooth, mostly hairless and white as a cuttlefish bone and hair long, straight and black as tar, was lying on his front with his chin in his hands and his feet in the air. My prick understood before my brain that the boy had been addressing me. He was beautiful. Like everyone else here his body had been approved by the site's moderators and was therefore intended to be that of someone at least sixteen years old. Yet he looked so young, fresh and virginal.

"Hey up!" he shouted again and patted the velvet seat before him invitingly.

His full lips were curled into a cheeky smile. I needed no further incentive and, parting from the Greek zombie with only slight disappointment, I went to join the boy. He was quite petite so there was room for me to sit beside him. His wide innocent blue eyes stared up at me. He had a lovely round face with cherubic cheeks, a small round nose and a small chin. Everything about him was dainty, delicate, elfin. He was a china doll and looked like he could break at the slightest touch. He seemed bored with the floorshow, unlike almost everyone else. He looked away from me for a moment and sighed, but when his gaze returned he was smiling broadly and he seemed very pleased I had chosen him over the Greek.

"My name's Ian," I told him.

His lips moved but I caught nothing in the screaming cacophonous mêlée of the Gaga mash up. I shook my head to indicate I did not understand. He lifted his mouth to my ear.

"My name's," he paused to inhale, then shouted at the top of his lungs, "Beau!"

"Boo?"

"Beau!" he screamed.

I nodded and smiled back.

"Aren't you a little young to be here?" I shouted.

"My user's thirty two!" he called into my ear.

"That's alright then!"

He nodded energetically, then he edged forward towards me. His small hands reached for the buttons at the front of my pants. One hand reached in. The contact of his soft white hand with my chocolate brown penis gave me an instant erection that was painful in its rigidity. He rubbed me a few times, smiling up at me, then I felt the gorgeous sensation of his lips at the head of my prick. He sucked me to my balls. By his expert sucking I could tell his user was certainly no ingénue. I stroked his back and his pert ass while he brought me to orgasm. I came in his mouth, powerfully. It was such a shock to feel my entire cock pulse and thump as if my clitoris had grown several inches. I had the strange feeling that my spasms were centred on the outside of my body, rather than deep within. I felt sensations that I had never even imagined before. I felt an enormous relief, as if my body was gratefully unloading a burden and a sweet tiredness swept through me.

Beau sat up and I had the opportunity to look at him properly for the first time. My cum dribbled from his chin onto his lap. He smiled and rubbed the cum into his hairless genitals. He was not muscular, indeed his body was somewhat effeminate, but he was entirely lovely and I was completely smitten. His skin was as soft and white as cotton wool. He rubbed himself teasingly up and down his bare chest and my erection swiftly returned. I had to do this teen justice and allowing him one blowjob was hardly going to be enough.

All evening people had been passing up and down the stairs, presumably in search of a private room, or to admire what must be a staggering view from the uppermost floors. I took Beau by the hand and we ascended the wide stairs along with all the other amorous couples and groups. We gazed at each other and I was so distracted that I had forgotten to button my pants and my dick was pointing the way. My companion's penis was growing slowly into a pastel pink drooping flower. I drew him to me and we fondled each other's bottoms. Our bodies felt no fatigue after having climbed thirty or forty flights, the site's architect having kindly omitted to program such an unnecessary detail that would only spoil people's enjoyment.

We stopped at one balcony and looked down. The hall had filled up even more since we had left it and the writhing crowd resembled a beehive with the bodies wriggling against each other. From the upper floors heavenly music managed to blanket the frenzied noise from below, giving us a more peaceful ambience. Up here the paintings I had noticed on the hall ceiling came to life. Angels and all the other fantastical creatures were transformed into living beings that floated and wafted amongst the lovers as they ascended, descended or paused to make love on the stairs. The private rooms had no doors and one could easily see if they were occupied or not. There was no modesty here. Many had not bothered with the rooms at all and were coupling on the stairs or on balconies. Some were even allowing the angels and naiads to participate. We walked past a few rooms, admiring the antics within, before finding one unoccupied.

A piercing scream behind us made us turn back. On a sofa by the balcony we had passed a couple writhing in a passionate sixty nine. One, who strongly resembled Arnold Schwarzenegger, was now rising from the sofa with a horror stricken look on his semen smeared face. The other, a Clint Eastwood type, spat an object from his mouth onto the floor. It was a penis, but he seemed unconcerned about his partner's unfortunate condition. Arnold's crotch was now minus a cock, but no blood came from the wound. Indeed, his two vegetables were hanging happily as if they had never been troubled by an accompanying meat sausage. Then another appendage joined the penis at his feet. I looked up to see that his face was now flat. His nose had dropped off too. Arnold, wailing nasally, tried to pick up the organs he had so carelessly dropped, but was unable to do so as his fingers all fell off at once. Clint dressed himself casually, offering no help to his friend, and made his way downstairs, smoking a small cigar. I was shocked, and Beau appeared scared. He pulled me into the vacant room. I decided the best thing would be to forget this sight which was in danger of dampening my ardour.

The room was sumptuously decorated with frescoes of images resembling an all male Karma Sutra. My friend threw his hat on the floor, paused to enjoy the feel of the deep shag pile carpet between his toes and then jumped on the four poster bed. He bounced a few times giggling and I watched his willy flap up and down. I stripped and admired myself briefly in the mirror above the bed. My body was large and athletic. I looked more Olympic than the Greek zombie downstairs. I felt hugely turned on just at the sight of myself.

Beau jumped onto me and began kissing me. I relished the taste of my cum on his tongue. He wrapped his slender limbs around me and pressed his lips hard against mine. I gripped his tight bottom and pushed him onto his back. We kissed some more with me kneeling beside the bed until I lifted myself to crawl further along to find a more comfortable position. He clung to me like a monkey hanging from a branch. I laid him back down on some silk cushions and began fondling his hips and belly.

He raised his arms above his head, closed his eyes and gripped the purple silk wrapped around the head board. His penis had grown a little, though it was still small like the rest of him. I undressed his helmet, pulling down the foreskin to find his slit already glistening with almost completely clear precum. I dipped my fingertip into it and rubbed it up and down his shaft. I wanked him a few times, then bent down. I tasted him, then swallowed him whole. His penis was so smooth and lovely. His scrotum was small and tight in my hand as I massaged his balls. I looked up at his face and saw him smile in delight, his cheeks dimpling cutely and his tongue pressing against his milk white teeth. I sucked on him faster, feeling him squirm beneath me. He throbbed passionately in my mouth until his cock convulsed explosively and swiftly expelled semen down my throat.

"Ahh, ooh, mm, hm, ohh!" he moaned happily.

He had cum much more quickly than I'd expected. I'd performed oral many times before, but had usually found myself sucking away for so long my neck became sore. He rolled onto his front and lifted his bottom slightly, offering it to me like a fruit to eat. He looked back at me over his shoulder, smiling invitingly. I licked him up and down his back, then down to his ass cheeks. I squeezed, bit and licked them. They were so soft and suckable. I parted them and touched his anus with my tongue.

"Uhh," he groaned, and bent his back to lift his ass higher.

I fondled his balls while licking away at his hole. Then I probed him with a finger. It was a while until I was able to persuade it to relax and open for me a little. I teased it with my tongue and fingertips. I snogged it as ardently as I had his mouth. I eased a finger in and rubbed the rim. I was so hard by now and I decided I could wait no longer. With a mixture of my precum and my saliva I lubricated the hole thoroughly before rubbing the tip of my erection against his anus. I squeezed his buttocks to sheathe my cock while I fucked his crack a few times. Then I lifted my hips and planted my helmet at his door.

He immediately cried out, "No! Not yet please!"

I bent down to kiss him and stroke his back reassuringly. I had no wish at all to hurt him. He rolled onto his back and we continued to kiss deeply, regardless of his long hair lying across his face. We sucked each other's tongues. Then, using the lubricant from our bodies I started rubbing my genitals against his. I pressed them firmly, massaging his cock and balls with mine. We wauled in ecstasy. Oh, it felt so good! He wrapped his arms around me, kissed my chest and my mouth again. We snogged and breathed heavily into each other's mouths. He giggled and cuddled me playfully. Then he spread his legs and lifted them so that his feet were almost at the pillows beside his head. I could see that he was ready for me now and was open to receive me.

My cock sprang into action and I repositioned it at the hole. He gripped his ankles and nodded for me to start. My cock head was swallowed up and the ring gripped me tightly like an elastic band. I spat as much as I could onto the rest of my cock before easing it in, being careful not to hurt my sweet lover. He bit his lip, but did not cry out. When I was buried in him up to my balls, he opened his eyes and smiled at me. I smiled back and began buggering him ever so gently and slowly. His butt gripped me like a tight, silky vagina. I gazed deeply into his pale blue eyes. I fondled and wanked his penis. He brought his legs together and I put my arms around them. His skin was so smooth against mine. I kissed his tender feet and his toes wriggled. I tickled his soles with my tongue and he giggled. With his feet at my shoulders I reached down to stroke his willy again. My pleasure seemed to growl deep inside me, growing in strength, eagerly anticipating the climax. Fucking as a man was like taming a savage beast. I made Beau cum again, but I did not stop and managed to give him one more neurogasm before I finally gave into my lust and squirted my love juice inside him. We both wailed in our joy. I rubbed myself into him again, smearing our hot boycum all over our bodies.

What a strange experience was, fucking from a man's perspective. There was more work involved, more pressure to perform, more pressure to hold back one's own pleasure, to save it for as long as possible and to prolong the pleasure of one's partner. Ejaculation was strangest of all. It felt like part of my soul had leaked out.

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