Sixteen Hours Till Sunrise

After a few moments of James really using those fingers up my very occupied and becoming increasingly weary pucker, he changed gears back to his goal of getting the knuckles on his hand past my o-ring. Starting almost where he left off, he took his hand, shaped it into the cone, and quickly pushed into me with it. This time, though, I relaxed, I breathed, and I let go of any misgivings I had about James and his somewhat untrustworthy nature. I had to! If I didn't try to see him as someone I could count on not to hurt me, this process was going to take way longer. You see, James WAS going to fist me tonight, and the quickest way from point A (James determination to fist fuck me) to point B (James hand disappearing into my stretched out butthole) is a straight line. Trust, I felt, would be on the path we wanted to travel,

Once I relaxed, James' hand was inching slowly into my hole. I could feel myself getting wider and wider, my hole stretching tighter as his knuckles approached. "Oh, I don't know what you are doing," James observed, as he began to ease his hand in further, "but keep doing it!"

My head rested on the bar with my ass still jutting out from the bar stool. James announced that he was very close and I could feel the bumps on the back of his hand, his knuckles, arrive at my doorstep. With deep breaths, I completely released any muscle use from my lower body, absolutely removing all tension that could slow the process. All at once, the four knuckles breached my hole, expanding it to a point that cause me to breathe in so deeply, I felt like I almost inhaled and swallowed my tongue. James, who really got joy out of making a climactic feeling last, stopped a few moments to let the widest part of his hand turn my opening into a rubber band. He pumped in and out, in and out. Pre cum dripped from my cock very quickly. With each time he pushed the knuckles in me, my cock emitted a long strand of clear pre cum onto the bar stool.

Ernie and Paul, who observed from a few feet away at the bar, began stroking each other's hard dongs and stood up, making their way to have a closer look.

James finally completed the task. It was just a matter of letting his arm go limp so my anal cavity could vacuum up the rest of his hand. And once he saw his wrist arrive at my opening, that was his cue to begin fist fucking me very hard! A bit more speedily, he began reversing his forward motion so my hole also began to tighten as his knuckles, once again, approached the doorway, but from inside. As his knuckles breached and began releasing from my ass's grip, he pushed back in harder this time! And every push into me with his fist would also include more of his arm being inserted, as well. This pattern continued for close to 15 thrusts and with the tapered attack he used, by the time he hit 15, my hungry hole swallowed up to the mid-point of his forearm. For perspective, up James' right arm was a tattoo from wrist to elbow. It was, oddly enough, a tattoo of Popeye. You know, the Sailor Man? I told you this guy was the personality of the group. Well, my cock starved cum receptacle devoured Popeye's lower body to his mid-belly by the time James' manners kicked in and he realized he was hogging up all the ass. So he slowly removed his arm and, to my glowing pride, Popeye was as clean as Sweet Pea's Fanny.

James grasped a fist full of my hair and lifted my head off the bar, then he made me lick his arm clean. The taste was devine. The only thing better is licking my ass off a guy's cock. But my ass has a flavor that compliments all body parts, I suppose.

I wasn't aware how long his arm was holding me open for, but when I finally stood, my legs buckled and I fell with a crash to the floor. The fisting took it all out of me, but by the looks on their faces, they still saw me as fuckable. Ernie and Ronnie took an arm and lifted, receiving a small modicum of assistance from me. I was a wet noodle, a useless pustule. My arms were rubber, my legs were two Slinkys. I was done offering myself freely to these guys. But they didn't need me for that. Since I was sapped and out of commission, physically, that just meant I needed to be held in place. To them, my holes were still wet, so on with the show! Or at least that was what I expected.

Already undressed, I was carried to a couch in the room at the base of the steps leading to the second level, and there, I was thrown and left with my thoughts. I heard the guys' voices trail off as they ascended the steps. Shortly thereafter, I rose to my feet and slowly 'heel toed' it to where Ronnie kept his big toys and grabbed one of the biggest which, I didn't know at the time, was actually shaped and marketed as a dog's cock. Sometime later that evening, when I found out that this was the hook, I recall thinking, "People are into that?" But, admittedly, that toy had the best shape to it and now I own one.

But at the time, I was barely able to walk as I brought this freakish-sized thing with a bulbous base (apparently called a knot) back to the couch where they left me. On my knees with my ass pointing toward the sky, I stuck this thick piece of silicon up my ass deep, with the end goal of getting that thick and round base to penetrate me. But, before I could get too far, I heard foot falls as the guys returned, arriving and turning to see me on the couch toy up my ass about half way. Paul was closest. He grabbed and pulled it from my ass.

"Follow us back into the play room. We're not done with you, whore, and you clearly are not done with us," Ronnie said calmly. As I trailed close behind them, I could hear their discussion. Comments that pertained to me being unable to walk, yet grabbing a dildo or getting fisted as easily as I had been able to. These guys sounded like they were both impressed and concerned for me. Like maybe they should end it.

I spoke up from 5 feet behind them, "Hey! I didn't come here for sympathy. So I have a question. At what point will you guys start getting creative?" I didn't mean this. I was younger and stupid. I had to save face and pride can sometimes come off as idiocy.

I entered the play room, once again, to face one filthy and final act of depravity.

My legs shook from the beating my asshole took at the 'hand' of James. I had toyed around with my ass before, but never did I have the sensations in and around my hollow cock target that I was feeling now. It was like earthquake aftershocks and how they arrive unexpectedly. My body would behave voluntarily until a sudden spasm would buckle my lower back or my right leg and I'd lean to the side almost falling, but catching myself just prior to slamming into a wall. As soon as we arrived in the downstairs bathroom, our trip ended.

"You need to get into the shower now, you filthy fuck toy," Ronnie berated me with a look on his face like he meant it. With their cocks all out in the open, stroking themselves with vigor, pumping away and squeezing precum on their cocks, I entered the shower and went to turn on the water, still naive to what the group's intent was. But when my hand made its way to the shower nozzle to turn the water on, I found out their plan.

"Woah, bitch! We didn't say shit about turning on water," Paul said as he spit on his hand and smacked his cock hard which made an audible muted thud sound. His cock just responded by swinging left to right a few times. I took in an eyeful of his fat member hoping to position myself to take him at least once more and feel his quiet aggressive style as he tears into me. God he was big!

So my hand recoiled as I awaited the next instruction. Ronnie commanded me to sit inside the shower on the floor, so I slowly dropped to my knees, then shifted to sitting on my ass with my legs crossed.

The stall door was wide and swung out of the way of those occupying it, if there were ever a reason to crowd a bathroom, that is. The door played a crucial role for what was coming next. Now I had a strong feeling I was about to be urinated on by 4 guys, but didn't let on that I was on to their plan because it was a great plan and I didn't want to spoil it by being a dick and spilling the beans before the plan hatched.

So I sat as Ronnie, James, Paul, and Ernie pointed their gigantic dongs at my body. When Ronnie saw how expectant I seemed to be, he inquired, but more accurately, he stated in question form, "You've been pissed on before, haven't you?"

I was always accused of wearing my heart on my sleeve. With my face undauntedly staring at the cocks about to splash me with a great flood of urine, I suppose I looked too anxious. "Ummm, yeah, I have!" And then to bring some authenticity to the situation they had meant to be unique and the cherry on top of a wild sex romp, I added, "But never by 4 guys at the same time!!" And that was no lie.

A look of pride eased its way onto Ronnie's face, a look I translated. This was an important moment for me as I began to see these four men as they really were in this moment. I realized that he was, sort of, putting on a concert. He had a set list and this whole thing was his opus. For Paul and Ernie, it was a release. For James, it was an opportunity to show his skills and imagination and he more than succeeded at displaying that along with the fact that, outside of this event, he was, more than likely, an asshole. For Ronnie, however, it was all staged, we were all actors, and this final act was our last dance before the curtains close. So I relished it.

I got up on my hands and knees, closed my eyes tightly as if I was making a wish that I really hoped would come true, pursed my lips shut, and waited. I never took account on who got the ball rolling, but it was aimed right at my face, so I assumed it was James. Such a fucking jackass, I thought. Then a wave hit me on my torso and chest. Torrents of musty smelling liquid splashed off me and ran in small waterfalls off my nipples. Much of the filthy piss ran down my back and travelled through the valley of my ass. I relaxed my body so my hole would open and hopefully drink in some of it. It was degrading. Insults were hurled at me. My cock went from flaccid to power tool in almost no time and the guys, who must have known ahead about this and held it in the entire time, continued bathing my entire body for at least 2-3 minutes.

Now, smelling of urine and soaking in a tub of filth, most men would call it a day and return to their normal lives. And most did. James, however, seeing my current state, couldn't help it. He saw the sexual gratification he would receive after finishing inside a piss covered servant and he commanded me to remain in my doggy style pose. His athleticism, which surprised me, allowed him to place one foot on the bathroom floor with the other way across the tub and resting on a short ledge. This allowed him to lower his hips down enough to get the tip of his cock to curve its way to my awaiting hole. There was no reason to think that this act would be difficult for me, so James unleashed what energy he had remaining to ram his cock 10 inches deep into my belly and hate fuck me like I was an ex from a bad break up. He fishhooked my mouth, spit in my face (which I didn't like), called me every degrading name I could think of and some I never knew could be degrading. His last pump into my ass was his orgasm. He held himself, the entire shaft, inside me to the balls for a minute or two, to let the cum settle so it wouldn't fall out. Then, in a selfless act, he materialized an anal plug, which he acquired prior to heading into the bathroom, and stuck it up my ass. I shook my ass at him in thanks and he smacked the fuck out of it! I collapsed in the tub as he walked out without a word.

I was drenched and smiling, but exhausted. Emotionally, getting treated as I was followed by a gangpissing, for the lack of a better word, took a lot out of me. It seems to be an unwritten rule that in situations like these, the bottom is offered to recuperate at the host house. So, I spent 24 hours with Ronnie, offering fond farewells to Ernie, Paul, and yes, even James, all of whom left shortly after the 'final act', which was the point that I came to the realization that I never got to suck any of the guys off through Ronnie's well constructed gloryholes. Fucking shit!!

Ronnie and I keep in touch and perhaps one day, I'll revisit his dungeon and allow his plans to, once again, unfurl. But not for some time. It's unfair, but we are given so little time to live and I still have so much more to experience.