Roommate's Forced Fantasy Ch. 03

Roger really liked the little ottoman couch in the living room of the apartment he shared with Jack. He liked the comfortably padded top, and the fact that the padding was all around the sides as well. He really appreciated the sturdy wooden feet, as well. Just at the moment, he couldn't remember the color.

It was a comfortable thing to be tied to. The top supported his chest and belly just right, at just the right height. Bent over it as he was, his widely spread knees still had firm contact with the carpeted floor. The padded sides cushioned the impact as his thighs were driven against them again and again. His wrists and knees were tied firmly to the feet; no matter how hard he struggled or pulled, they were firmly planted and not going anywhere.

The blindfold prevented him from seeing the color just at the moment, but the fabric was soft and just textured enough. His stiff little cock was constantly rubbing across the top; there wasn't quite enough friction to hurt, just enough to deliciously stimulate him.

His roommate Jack was raping him again, violently ramming his big cock up Roger's sore asshole as Roger lay gagged and blindfolded across the ottoman. Roger shuddered as the stimulation of his cock and his prostate brought him to a watery orgasm and remembered that Jack was the one who bought the comfortable footrest.

Tied as he was, gagged to prevent him from crying out, there wasn't much for him to do but lay there and take the hard fucking. It wasn't the first time his big, athletic roommate had torn his clothes off, tied him, and forced himself on the smaller, red-headed man. Roger had lost count of the number of times he'd become the "unwilling" receptacle of Jack's lust; this was his sex life, now.

So, he laid tied across the ottoman, reflexively struggling and taking the big, thick cock in his ass. He appreciated the furniture for being a comfortable thing to be tied to and basked in the glow of his own orgasm. Jack could usually fuck him to orgasm during these attacks, sometimes, two. That had been his second, and the usual exhaustion was hitting him.

Jack pounded the smaller man's ass a few more times with deep, powerful strokes, then growled, sank his fingers into Roger's hips, and his cock throbbed pulse after pulse of hot, sticky cum up Roger's guts. His eyes screwed shut in ecstasy as his victim's pliant body milked every last drop out of the depths of him; he slowly thrust a few more times, emptying his nuts completely.

"Fuck," he said, sweat coursing down his muscular body. He bent forward, covering Roger's softer body with his own, and affectionately bit Roger's shoulder. Roger moaned as Jack pulled at the slip knots on Roger's wrists, then slid his hands back and released his knees as well.

Sliding his softening cock out of Roger's gaping fuck hole, Jack shakily stood to his feet and went to get a couple of wet, warm towels. He cleaned himself off thoroughly, then went back to where Roger was still prone across the ottoman and cleaned him as well. He winced looking at Roger's twitching anus, still trying to contract back to something like it's normal state.

There was always the tinge of regret. Every time he threw his self-control to the wind and forced himself on Roger, he felt like he'd gone too far. After he cleaned the smaller man, he lifted free the blindfold and pulled the knotted bandana gag out of his mouth.

"You, uh, ok?" he asked, putting the soiled towels aside.

"Gimme a minute," said Roger. He slowly lifted from the ottoman and crawled to the couch, where he laid on his side. "That one was... you went really hard."

Jack shrugged guiltily. "That's a really good position," he said. "Lots of leverage."

Roger nodded and pulled the comforter down off the back of the couch, covering himself. "I think I'll be ok," he said. "I need six naps."

"After you hydrate," said Jack. He went to get Roger a sports drink from the fridge. "I still think we need to talk about this, some time," he said, breaking the seal on the cap and handing the bottle to Roger.

Roger took the drink and chugged about half of it; he was sweating pretty hard too.

"Look," he said, putting the cap back on the bottle. "I know this is sketchy as hell, and I'm not a hundred percent sure how to process it myself. I used to have a lot of fantasies about you making me suck your dick, and I've kind of been thinking I'm a submissive type... but then you DID make me suck you, and this stuff has just gone on, and... and I don't hate it."

"Yeah, I can kind of tell," said Jack. "I'm gonna have to get the ottoman cleaned... not that I'm complaining. Just glad you're getting off too, I guess."

Roger took another long, thoughtful drink. "Truth of the matter, Jack? You're the only person I've ever had sex with... and I can't imagine anything else getting me off better."

He slowly sat up, wincing as his weight came down on his ass. It wasn't just the tenderness of his anus... Jack's powerful hips slamming into his butt left his cheeks bruised and sore for a while. "You always do this at the beginning of the weekend, so there's plenty of time to recover. You always untie me afterward, and you always try to take care of me when you're done."

He finished the bottle as Jack looked at him, worried and expectant.

"I don't ever want to tell you that this is ok," Roger said. "I never want to say 'yes.' I want to fight and tell you 'no' and then I want you to take what you want anyway. I think that's a big part of how good I get off."

Jack nodded. "Ok. Tell you the truth, I kind of wish you were more experienced... I feel like I'm taking advantage. But you're a big boy and make your own decisions. I've heard you say you want it... that's all I needed."

He sat down next to Roger and took the empty bottle from him. "It's really good for me, too," he said, a little sheepishly. "And I'm not usually like this. Not with any of the girls I've been with... or the boys. I don't know why it feels so much fucking better than usual, but it does."

"So there, we talked," said Roger. "I'll pay to get the ottoman cleaned; my company has a lot of upholstery done, I know a guy. I think I can manage a shower before I take that nap."

"Good call," said Jack. "And thanks."

Roger stood up gingerly and shrugged. "Don't want you feeling bad about it; that's not fair. If it gets to be a problem for me, well, we'll talk again. Ok?"

Jack nodded. "Deal."

And that was it; the big confrontation that Jack had been dreading was more of a relief than anything else. The week went on as weeks do... Jack doing his personal trainer gig at the local gym, and Roger managing collections for the property management company he worked for. The ottoman was taken to a nearby upholstery company, thoroughly cleaned and given some extra sealing treatments.

As the next weekend approached, Jack began to have a nagging worry. He'd heard Roger say he wanted it... was that going to make the urges less intense? To some degree, he was getting off on the feeling of power the "forced" fuck sessions were giving him. In his mind, it wasn't that Roger wouldn't stop him, it was that he couldn't. There was nothing Roger could do, physically, to stop Jack from taking his pleasure from him.

Finally settling that Roger was a willing participant, no matter how he acted, was a little sobering. Jack wasn't sure things would feel the same way... that he would get the rush of power he felt when he took Roger with superior strength and size.

Friday arrived, Roger came home from work, said "hi," and went to take his customary after-work shower. Jack looked over the collection of items he'd gathered for their sessions... handcuffs, rope, bandanas, even some proper ball-gags and leather restraints. Was he feeling it?

Physically, Roger wasn't his "type." There wasn't a sense of attraction to draw Jack emotionally closer. It had all been a sheer desire to rip his pleasure from Roger's resisting, helpless body. Even as he thought about it in those terms, though, Jack's cock began to stiffen. He could barely hear the shower running across the apartment, and could envision Roger's soft, naked body under the coursing water.

Jack shucked off his clothes, grabbed a handful of short lengths of rope, and went to Roger's room.

The athlete's thick cock was throbbing with need as he walked into the steamy bathroom. The doubts were gone... he needed to take the soft fuckmeat in his apartment, and he needed it badly.

Roger was started when Jack yanked open the shower door. "Jack? What the hell? I'll be out in a couple..."

Water and soap in his eyes, it took him a moment to notice that Jack was naked and hard. He saw the ropes in Jack's hand and backed against the tile wall of the shower. Usually, these sessions started after a shower, or early in the morning. This was new... unexpected.

"Jack... no," he said, holding his hands in front of himself defensively. "I don't understand..."

Wordlessly, Jack roughly grasped Roger's hand and looped a rope around it. As Roger yelped, Jack pressed in closer, forcing his hard body against Roger's soft one. Holding Roger's captive wrist by the rope, the larger man roughly pulled Roger's other hand away from his body and bound his wrists together.

"Jack, stop... this is wrong," said Roger, his heart racing. He could feel the real fear... Jack's cock was thick and hard, and every time Roger was forced to take it, there was pain. Part of him was genuinely afraid of being violated... and the other part of him loved it all the more.

"Shut the fuck up," said Jack. With one hand, he lifted Roger's bound wrists over his head. He planted his other hand on Roger's shoulder and forcefully shoved him down to his knees.

Roger struggled, but Jack had the size, the strength, and the leverage. He was forced down to his knees in the shower, warm water running over his body, hands bound over his head. Jack's grip was impossible for him to resist. He shook water out of his eyes, whimpering in fear, to see Jack's rock-hard cock right in front of him.

"No," he whined. Jack's hand caught the hair on the back of his head, and Jack slowly pulled Roger's mouth closer.

"Suck me, damn you," said Jack. "Open up and take it."

Roger fought... he strained the muscles of his back and neck, but Jack's cock was still pressed up to his tightly-pursed lips. Jack tightened his grip on the smaller man's red hair, and as Roger yelped in pain, Jack shoved his throbbing cockhead into Roger's hot, wet mouth.

"Keep your teeth off of it, bitch," growled Jack. "You know what to do with a cock in your mouth."

Roger looked up into Jack's hard eyes and shuddered... this was one of his deepest, darkest fantasies and it got him stiff every single time. He'd only ever had one cock in his mouth... this pulsing monster. He did know what to do with it, though. Wrists bound, hands held helplessly over his head, and Jack's strong arm forcing his head down, Roger closed his eyes and suckled at Jack's stiff meat.

Jack forced more and more of his cock into Roger's pliant mouth, groaning with the sheer pleasure of it. The smaller, less-fit man had gotten a lot of practice at this. Roger pressed his soft, warm tongue tightly to the underside of Jack's sensitive cock, just letting it slide in as Jack forced it deeper. He tried to relax his throat as Jack flexed his biceps and pulled Roger's head all the way down, but the smaller man still gagged and choked on the massive mat pole as it pushed down his helpless throat.

Jack held it there for a moment, letting Roger's gagging, spasming throat massage his aching cock, then slowly pulled him off of it. As Jack's cock slid out, Roger sucked hard at it, moaning and wiggling his tongue.

The bigger man started a rhythm, shoving his cock in and out of Roger's mouth. Roger focused all of his attention on the cock he was being forced to please, giving Jack head with everything he had to give. He was forced to bob his head back and forth for a while, the hot water running over both their bodies.

Rogers little cock was stiff and bouncing with his efforts... nothing got him going so much as when Jack lost control and decided to take him.

The forced head brought Jack close to orgasm, but every time the tingles started, he'd pull back until only the head of his cock was in Roger's mouth. Roger would suckle at it and run his tongue around it, but that wasn't quite enough to bring Jack off, yet. He wanted the feelings of power to last, and he wanted more than Roger's mouth. He'd find another time to cum down the smaller man's throat, probably a lot of other times. He needed all of Roger's pain and helplessness now, though. There was only one place to get that.

After ten minutes or so of the forced blowjob, Jack yanked Roger's head off his dick and lifted him to his feet by his hair. Roger yelped and scrambled to rise... Jack hadn't cum yet, so there was only one thing that could be next.

"No!" said Roger as Jack stood him to his full height. Jack looked down at the little man, a cruel smile fixed on his face. He forced Roger to turn his face towards the shower wall, then hooked Roger's bound wrists over the shower head.

"God, no, don't," whimpered Roger as Jack pressed up against his back. Jack's massive cock throbbed in the small of Roger's back, and Roger's body shuddered in anticipation of the pain and pleasure to come.

Jack got a handful of cream conditioner from the rack on the side of the shower, and slowly stroked a thick coating of the cool, soothing gel along his raging meat. "Oh, yeah," he said. He leaned forward and bit Roger's ear gently, bringing a "yip!" and tremble from the smaller man.

"You... you're too big, Jack," said Roger, his voice high and tight. "Let... let me suck you off, please... you can cum in my mouth... you can cum in my mouth all you want, just don't... I can't take it..."

Then Jack's conditioner-covered hand was over Roger's mouth, and his other hand was guiding the long, thick pole of meat to it's target. "Oh, you're gonna take it, all right," said Jack. "You're gonna take it whenever I want."

The slick head of his cock pressed between Roger's cheeks and nuzzled the smaller man's quivering anus. As Roger whimpered helplessly, hands bound over his head and Jack's powerful hand grasping his lower face, Jack slowly forced the head of his cock up Roger's tight, yielding asshole.

Roger's whimpering voice rose several octaves as he whined in pain, Jack's huge meat stretching him wide. Then Jack leaned in, and slowly drove his entire length into Roger's helpless rectum. It was hot and it was tight, and Roger's violated muscles gripped Jack's big cock in quivering, straining pleasure.

Jack thought he might go slow this time, like the blowjob. He thought he might have a little control and make this part last, too. This time was good... the hot water on his tight body, Roger's twitching hands over their heads, the agonized cries under his hand... it was all a huge turn-on.

The fact that he knew Roger wanted this wasn't hampering his pleasure at all. It still felt like he was forcing the smaller man, like he was taking his pleasure by strength and power. The fact that Roger was getting off on it too didn't hurt at all... it helped. He was going to fuck his roommate no matter what his roommate did or said, and he was going to cum inside him. The fact that he was going to tear an orgasm or two out of Roger made it seem complete.

He thought he might go slow, but it was all too good. He threw control to the wind, pulled his slick cock out until only the head was up Roger's ass, then rammed it back in, hard and fast.

Roger's eyes flew open in shock, and Jack started to pound his ass with all his strength and speed. The sound of meat hitting meat filled the shower and bathroom along with the heavy steam, and the splash of the water between them.

Somewhere around the tenth or eleventh hard thrust, Roger cried out even louder and shot his little watery load on the tile wall of the shower, his tiny cock throbbing out his pleasure. Jack never slowed down, probably didn't notice. He was lost in the act of violating his roommate, the pleasure racing through his body. Physical, emotional, even psychological pleasure... his whole being was devoted to taking this ass, making it his.

Roger went a little limp after his first orgasm, the strain falling on his arms as he was held up by little more than the rope around his wrists. He was glad that he wasn't a bigger man and that the plumbing seemed to be pretty strong. The pain in his ass grew, bringing tears to his eyes that mingled with the shower water. It was hell and it was heaven and as Jack's heavy breath hit the back of his neck, he found himself cumming a second time.

The spasms of Roger's lower body thrilled Jack's cock again, and the bigger man's whole nervous system tingled. He was going to cum big this time, he could feel it. He went for it... one hand over Roger's mouth, the other on his hip, holding him in position for every hard, deep thrust. Then the tingle centered on his balls and Jack roared into Roger's ear as he slammed himself in and shot his load, filling Roger's poor, stretched, violated ass with a massive flood of hot, sticky cream.

Roger, still recovering from his second orgasm, yelled loudly into Jack's hand as his balls churned a THIRD time, dry-firing a painful mockery of another orgasm! It was pleasure too great and pain deep in his privates... it hurt more than the anal violation and was the greatest sensation he'd ever endured.

He was still crying out and shivering from the overwhelming sensations as Jack slowly pulled his softening cock free from his ass. Jack took Roger's hands down from the showerhead, concerned that Roger was still groaning.

"Roger? Rog? Hey?" he said, supporting Roger's weight with one arm and turning him around. Roger's eyes were rolled back in his head and he could only groan weakly.

Nearly in panic, Jack pushed open the shower door and carried Roger, both of them still dripping wet, to Roger's bed. He untied the smaller man's hands and lightly slapped his cheeks, hoping to bring him out of whatever fit he was having.

"Shit. Shit. Roger? ROGER? Talk to me, man..." visions of orange jumpsuits and long days in a courtroom danced in Jack's head as Roger slowly writhed on his bed, slowly coming to be still and quiet.

"Fuck" said Roger, eventually. His voice was a hoarse whisper, driven raspy by the uncontrolled yells and groans. "That... dude... fuck..."

"Are you ok? What happened? Talk to me," said Jack. He looked around for something to drink, finding a bottle of water on the bedside table, uncapping it, and gently tilting it to Roger's lips. "Here... drink. Just a little. Come on, work with me..."

Roger sipped at the water and held up a hand. "I'm... I'm ok. That was... oh, man. That was... the fucking best thing ever."

Jack almost dropped the water bottle, but carefully set it aside instead. "What?"

"Fuck, Jack," said Roger, laying flat on his back. "I came and came and it hurt deep in my balls and... and I don't think I stopped for a while. It was... amazing."

"Well, ok," said Jack, confused, "you had me worried, is all... Just... yeah. I should let you get some rest... that seemed pretty rough..."

Roger reached up weakly and touched Jack's face. "Sleep with me," he said, softly.

Jack did a double take. "What? Shit, Rog, I don't know... are you thinking straight? I mean..."

Roger ran his hand up and down Jack's cheek, feeling the roughness of his five o'clock shadow. "Shut up and sleep with me."

Jack looked down at his roommate, the man who was providing him with the best sex he'd ever had and stopped trying to think. "Let me get some towels and a couple of sports drinks, and ok."