The Mr. Larry Chronicles: Neil Pt. 01

What Neil loved the most about his new apartment was that other than that huge, smelly apartment manager, "Mr. Larry" and that twink, Nando, he was the only man in the apartment building. There were six women of all shapes and sizes that he could picture drilling. Never mind that his cock was not quite the tool he wished it was--it was fine, totally fine--those bitches would thank him for drilling them.

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His storage room was conveniently backed by the laundry room. What a discovery he had made the previous year after moving in - a convenient hole at waist level allowing him to peer into the laundry room with total visual access. Over time, he discovered the girls in the building tended to do their laundry dressed--or not dressed, he thought--like little sluts, hanging out in the laundry room while the machines finished their cycles.

There were always barely covered nipples to see poking through or even peeking out of thin cloth, barely-covered asses, and camel toes. Kneeling on the soft mat he'd brought down to make it more comfortable as he "observed" them. The soft mat became his command post while he clocked every movement.

Neil felt powerful with every session observing those unguarded moments, knowing that at any time of his choosing he could burst in the room, push a slut to her knees and force his prick into her mouth. They would thank him, obviously, for his cum. While Neil entertained those fantasies on his padded mat with his eye against the hole, he'd stroke his hard on, his prick pointing straight up from his body. In no time he'd wank himself into cumming on the towel he'd leave in front on the floor to collect his spunk.

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Over time, Mr. Larry began to notice that the obnoxious guy--one of the token male tenants, Neil--seemed to be in his storage room a lot. Mr. Larry couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wasn't quite right about it. One Thursday evening, noting Neil's presence there again, he decided it was time to investigate. As he passed the laundry room, Mr. Larry nodded to the new girl who'd just moved in that weekend. Goldie, was doing her laundry. It appeared that she was folding the last of the clothes from the dryer. Mr. Larry had liked her the moment he met her - for a variety of reasons, ranging from her joyous personality, to her bouncy bubble butt. Like all of the other tenants--and outside of the...extracurricular activities he engaged in with them--Larry felt an avuncular sense of protectiveness toward her as well as a driving desire to fulfill her needs. Any of them. The signs were right for her to become a Babygirl.

Moving quietly for a man of his size, Larry came upon the not fully-closed door to Neil's storage unit. There were certain sounds he became aware of before further opening the door: whispering, heavy breathing, and an unmistakable slapping sound. Larry pushed open the door to see the shirtless back of the tenant in question, kneeling, with joggers pulled to his knees, firm ass bared to the door, hips thrusting, eye pressed to the wall, one arm bent against the wall while the other in front making a motion that could only be him wanking to what ever he saw on the other side.

Larry considered for a second whether he was surprised by this creepy behavior and quickly realized that every action he'd ever witnessed of this man, this boy, appearing to be aggressive flirting and toxic masculinity, had been only been that of overcompensation. This just fit.

"Boy!" Neil jumped and whipped his head around to see the huge form of Mr. Larry overfilling the doorway. "The fuck you think you doing?!" Larry furiously whisper-yelled at him. "Don't you fucking move,"Larry commanded, looking out to the hall to see an unaware Goldie walk by, with her basket in hand heading toward the stairs to go back to her apartment.

Neil had frozen at Larry's intrusion and command, embarrassment and fear shooting to his extremities. He felt his face flame red and he trembled and dropped his pecker.

As soon as Larry had looked out of the door, Neil scrambled to raise his joggers

"What Mr. Larry just tell you, boy?!" he demanded, after ensuring Goldie was gone before turning and moving toward the center of the room, "Not to move!"

Once again, Neil froze, not only ashamed for being caught in his lewd act, pants still below his shaking buttocks, but fearful of how the huge man would respond. While Neil had long ago dismissed Larry as unimportant and beneath him, he was nevertheless aware that the lumbering and unpleasant former Marine was certainly capable of hurting him. That "Mr. Larry" completely intimidated him from the first they met, frustrated and confused Neil. The very tall, large-framed man entirely filled every space he entered and, despite a vocabulary that was rough around the edges, his deep, rumbling voice further unnerved Neil. It was his shameful secret: despite all outward self-assuredness, Neil became deferential and was easily intimidated by certain types of men. They were not always large like Mr. Larry, but when around them, he entered into what he would later learn was a submissiveness when in the presence of their masculinity and strength - whether perceived or actual. Not like his overt showoff-y, dude-bro flexing behavior. The men in question carried a quiet confidence and a commanding presence. After any such encounter, Neil's stomach would feel fluttery and he had to actively quash the instinct to defer to anything they said or did. He would cover with bravado and--what he considered--manly, macho conversation that he believed they would approve of. But inside he would be trembling. Now, in his current vulnerable position, he was aware that, one, Mr. Larry could snap him like a stick, and two, he was trembling and powerless.

"Boy," Larry's voice now louder with an edge of warning, "You peepin' on the women in this house?" Mr. Larry walked toward and loomed over Neil who was still facing the wall and demanded, "Gettin your rocks off spying and whacking off? The fuck wrong with you, creeper?! You violating they privacy. This a place where Mr. Larry tell them they safe and you take that away! What kind of sick perv boy are you?! Shame on you, boy!"

As Larry berated him, Neil dropped his head to hide the red stain creeping up his shame-filled face. He tried to feel indignant. He tried...to only to realize that with every recrimination from the large, odiferous man, not only did he feel humiliated, but his prick, still rigid from his earlier activities, had gotten harder. He shivered and moved his hands to cover his shame.

"You stupid, boy? Mr. Larry say do. Not. Move!" Mr. Larry moved just behind Neil's kneeling form still facing the wall and looked down to what Neil's hands were trying to cover. As his hands moved away, Larry saw what was otherwise easily missed. A hard, thin, three-inch prick, bobbing up and down with Neil's quaking shivers.

Mr. Larry knew that his cock was larger than most men, but this was a cartoonish difference in size.

Snorting at the size, Mr. Larry said, "Boy, that the smallest little pecker I ever seen. That what you tryin to get off?" Larry laughed, "You barely a man with that little weasel. That ain't no cock. You just got a clit."

Neil could feel the embarrassment and shame wash over him with the truth Larry barked. He knew he was a great looking guy, living in a nice apartment, driving a BMW, on the fast track at work...but Larry--Mister Larry, his mind corrected--saw in a single moment who he really was - why he tried so hard in other areas. He had the pecker, as his high school cunt of a girlfriend had said, of an adolescent man-child.

His humiliation grew as Mr. Larry's words continued to penetrate his psyche. "Boy, turn around on you knees and put you hands behind you head," Mr. Larry demanded putting his giant hands on his hips, "Show Mr. Larry that little thing."

Keeping his head down protecting his red face, Neil whimpered, lifted his hands behind his head and shuffled on his knees to turn and face the room, his hard thumb-sized prick pointing to the ceiling.

"I can't hardly believe after everything you do and say, that what you got in your pants!" Though Mr. Larry pretty sure the word "overcompensating" part of it." He paused and shook his head thinking of partners he'd had that had penises. For Mr. Larry sex and gender had never figured in to how he chose a partner. His "mother"for a time, one of the women his father pimped, had a dick. His first sexual experience was with two people also run by his father; one person had a vagina and one person had a penis. They awakened young Larry sexually, teaching him about his body, how to pleasure and be pleasured. The most important lesson they instilled in Larry was that his partners' pleasure was paramount. To see to the core of who his partners were and what they needed to be satisfied was as significant a part of the sexual act as the actual application of technique. As he grew up, narrowly avoided being forced into a gang, served in the Marines, was wounded in combat and honorably discharged, he regularly employed the teachings of his primary sexual educators with his partners to their great pleasure. His only dissatisfaction as he grew was finding some people's preoccupation with other people's plumbing--especially when it came to pleasure--absurd.

What was also absurd was disregarding your true nature and overcompensating for a perceived lack of manliness by acting like this boy. Mr. Larry shook his head and smirked. This boy, this Neil, was a boi and he needed to be shown who he was. "Boi," he began and watched Neil shiver as he registered the change in tone and meaning by the way that word was spoken, "you got some learnin' to do. Mr. Larry gonna teach you.The first thing you got to understand is that," Mr. Larry pointed at Neil's erection, "ain't a cock. It just a clit, just like a any bitch-boi got. You understand? You a bitch-boi with a clit and it ain't nuthin' to superior, real man cock. You get it?"

Neil whimpered when Mr. Larry said the words, 'superior, real man cock' and he shivered when his dick, 'clit', the voice in his mind said, throbbed in response.

Mr. Larry did not miss when his little pecker jumped.

"You like that don't ya, bitch-boi? You like hearing Mr. Larry explain about superior, real man cock?" Neil's cock throbbed and jumped again and he closed his eyes before whimpering in a higher pitch as a thrill of shame and desire shot through him. How was it possible this man's words could make him feel both humiliated and aroused at the same time?

Mr. Larry smirked. "You don't really even know what I mean, bitch-boi," hearing the rustle of clothing, Neil opened his eyes again in time to see Mr. Larry pull the elastic waistband of his shorts down nearly to his knees and haul out a meaty flaccid penis and heavy, pendulous balls.

Neil literally gaped at the sight. Mr Larry sported at least eight flaccid inches with a circumference of, maybe, six inches - soft. Of course Neil had seen other boy's cocks before in locker rooms in high school and again in the gym as an adult, but there was nothing like what he could see in front of his face now. It was a deep dark brown trunk with a great pink head, peeping from his foreskin. He could see the head itself, even ensconced in its skin surround, extended nearly two--possibly three--inches from the shaft. Neil eyed Mr. Larry's bulging balls hanging behind the meat, incredibly full-looking and heavy, each testicle inside the sack about the size of a very ripe, juicy plum. Their fullness was such that they caused Mr.Larry's already prominent cock to jut out more. There was no true comparison, Neal thought. Both the penis and sack were astounding. Neil's tiny clit and testicles were a minuscule in comparison to Mr.Larry's meaty cock and full balls.

Neil's lower lip quivered and a drop of precum beaded on his little pecker and flowed off the tip.

His thoughts went in overdrive considering Mr. Larry's tool. How could that thing fit inside a person?! Fit anywhere inside?! It could only be considered an invading force - what would the body have to do to take it in? How would a body--could it--stretch to accommodate it?! How much cum would those balls produce and how could someone encompass the load?! Neil's hips uncontrollably thrust forward two, then three times, humping the air, in response to that thought. Wait! What was he thinking? He whimpered in shame at his delicate boi penis bobbing up and down with his involuntary hip movements, now actively drooling precum with each thrust.

Mr. Larry laughed at the rapidly changing expressions on Neil's face as he took in Mr. Larry's obvious superiority. "That right, now you start to understand, boi," Mr. Larry stated, "It ok, boi, take you time, just take it in. Now you see. Inside you know. You know you inferior. You know you just a bitch. Ain't you?"

Neil nodded before thinking what he was truly agreeing to, remaining transfixed by the sight. Neil's mind was in a tumultuous state. Mr. Larry had laughed at Neil's penis. No, not just his penis, but his small testicles too. He called Neil a 'bitch' and 'boi' while displaying his superior, real man cock. And Neil agreed with it. Agreed?! Hell, each cutting word the big man uttered resonated within Neil, deeply, and made him more aroused! Why was this happening? It was so humiliating. Fuck! He should be angry! Why was he so hard?!

Arousal and confusion continued to rage through Neil, great tension mounting within. Was this really happening? Was he really allowing this disgusting man emasculate him like this? Neil wanted to tell Mr. Larry he was wrong on all counts, that he was not a bitch. Not a boi. That he liked tits and pussy!

But rising awareness of his intrinsic submissiveness in the face of the big specimen of manhood was gaining ground. Neil started to tremble, tiny cock quivering, control of his deeply aroused body slipping. His mouth filled with saliva and need surged as he began to freely pump his hips, humping the air.

"You like what you see, bitch-boi! Yeah, Mr. Larry know you do. You understand the superiority of what in front of you?" Neil nodded. "Drop you hands to you side, boi," Mr. Larry commanded. Neil complied. "You gettin it now, you know now that little thing between you legs just make you a bitch-boi, don you? That clit make you a bitch." Mr. Larry's repetition of 'bitch-boi' and 'clit' in reference to him was...seductive. Neil nodded again with a whimper escaping along with harder hip thrusts as surges of desire filled his partly naked body, fire shooting to his nipples, into his testicles, across his perineum to his exposed buttocks and into his asshole.

He humped harder, his little penis--his clit--bobbing with every thrust. It felt like his clit was connected to Mr. Larry by every word, by the visual of every inch of that deep dark pole, connecting him and his little prick to Mr. Larry's superior cock and balls. He salivated again, feeling that his mouth was so very empty.

'What,' Neil suddenly wondered, shame, fear, and desire coursing through him once again, 'would that monster look like completely erect?!' His arousal now reached new heights and tension built in his belly. At the thought of superior, real man cock, Neil realized all vestiges of arrogance were now fading into acceptance. Mr. Larry was right, he was a 'boi'--a bitch-boi--and Mr. Larry was a 'Man'. With each humiliating thought his clit throbbed and bobbed, the petite head engorging slightly and the shaft flexed as though agreeing to its owner's surrender and increasing his sexual tension.

He inadvertently moaned, a high, feminine sound, body shaking with desire. Tears filled Neil's eyes in shame. He was going to cum. He knew it and could do nothing to stop it. He desperately did not want to cum in front of Mr. Larry. He didn't want Mr. Larry to see that he had this effect on him. It would be so humiliating, for Mr. Larry to see that he couldn't control himself. That looking at superior, real man cock made him need to cum. That when he lost control he'd be a bitch, cuming untouched. His hands tightened to fists trying to hold back. Precum streamed from the tip of his clit to the floor.

Mr. Larry grasped his soft pole and gave it a long, slow stroke, the head bobbing within inches of Neil's face. In front of Neil's tear-filled eyes, it began to grow. Neil's mouth dropped open in wonder. Mr. Larry gave it another pump. The monster grew further, gaining firmness, advancing in length and width. Neil moaned once more watching the near-magically expanding beast, the foreskin pulling back allowing with the head to fully emerge. More of his own precum ran to the floor. Neil took a deep breath and let it come out, quaking. Mr. Larry said, "That right, it ok, boi. This you new place, boi. On you knees for Mr. Larry."

Oh no! Neil felt his little balls draw up. Reflexively he licked his lips. Mr. Larry continued, "Big, juicy, superior, real man cock holdin' you in you place. It ok, boi. You just take it in. Mr. Larry here to help you."

With that, Mr.Larry lowered his progressively firming cock with a thunk where the long head rested directly on Neil's open mouth. A drop of Mr. Larry's own precum flowed out from the big pink head to pool on the bitch-boi's lower lip.

Mr. Larry's superior, real man cock was on his wet mouth. Here, Neil was kneeling in supplication in front of Mr. Larry with the large man's cock on his open mouth. He didn't want this. He didn't...

And then, Neil knew it was only a matter of time until that cock, that beautiful massive beast, would be inside of him. And he wanted it, filling him with its superior size and girth...and cum... surely, there would be SO much cum!...and suddenly it was all too much.

Incapable of holding back any longer, Neil cried out as he experienced the most encompassing orgasm of his life, screaming, "Oh! OH! OH! OHHHHHHH!" in time to spurts of watery semen fountaining from his untouched clit forming a puddle on the floor between his knees and Mr. Larry's feet.

Hips pumping with each wet spasm, Neil burst into new tears at his loss of control, submitting to his need, cuming in front of Mr.Larry. This man, this unwashed, uneducated man, had broken Neil. This man with his giant growing horse cock had made him cum untouched.

Panting with unabated arousal, Neil gazed up hungrily through watery lashes at Mr. Larry's hog. "You really a bitch-boi, shooting off you little clit, wettin' yourself looking at Mr. Larry's cock." Mr. Larry said and reached down to gather again his engorged fat cock and heavy balls in both hands and shook them at Neil. Neil's mouth fell completely open. He could smell Mr. Larry's ripe, unwashed pong rolling to him in waves. Neil again salivated, his tongue pushing out to caress his own lower lip, tasting something salty, unknowing (or unaccepting) that he tasted the drip of precum Mr. Larry's cock left.

"Your mouth wet, bitch-boi. You want a taste of this meat don't you?" Some vestiges of his previous self had returned post-orgasmically and Neil gasped at what Larry was suggesting, rearing his head back. He wasn't a bitch cocksucker too!

Was he?

With that thought, his little clit once again hardened with such swiftness it bounced off his flat stomach.

Yes, his little clit said, he was.

"Open you mouth and stick out you tongue, boi," Mr. Larry said holding out the end of his partially still-flaccid penis. Larry laid the head of his great member on Neil's tongue. Neil could hear the deep moan that escaped Neil's throat as his tongue encountered the weight of the brown snake.

"Suck, boi."

Neil's eyes drifted shut as his lips closed around the great engorged girth and Larry's penis was drawn in a warm, wet sleeve, slipping immediately into the back of Neil's mouth.