Uninvited

Then, there was a loud thump followed by Sean's voice saying, "Hey!", after which the house erupted into a constant ruckus of furniture scraping across the floors amidst a series of grunts and groans accentuated by the thumps of bodies banging into the walls and the floor. Chris rushed over to the laptop and started the broadcast. Once again his face appeared on the laptop screen and he addressed the now 652 people watching.

"Okay everyone," he said breathlessly, "my guests have arrived and we're about to begin. We may need to take the occasional break, but it should be a great show." He stepped aside and angled the 2nd camera towards the open bedroom door and waited as the sounds of struggle made their way up to the 2nd floor.

Two huge men entered the bedroom carrying a naked and struggling Sean between them. One of the men, a short bearded bodybuilder, had Sean in a half-nelson. The main in front of him, also built like a bear, had both of Sean's ankles cradled under one arm and he had one massive ham-sized hand clamped over Sean's mouth. The little blue pill Sean had taken had obviously kicked in, and his huge cock was standing upright like a flag, giving the appearance that he enjoyed being manhandled by these huge men. A third man followed the trio into the bedroom carrying a large leather duffle bag as though he was going to hockey practice.

"Hello, boys," Chris said from behind the camera. "Any trouble finding the place?"

All three shook their heads, no problem at all. "Where do you want him?" the bodybuilder asked, not at all put out by the struggling adult in his arms.

"At the foot of the bed," Chris answered.

The two men holding Sean easily carried him to the bed and shoved him face down on the mattress. The moment the bear removed his hand from Sean's mouth he began to thrash and scream, but strong as he was he was no match for the other two men who easily pinned him down, seizing control of his arms and cuffing his hands behind his back. From that point on, his struggles became moot and insignificant to either of them. The bear tore off a piece of duct tape and slapped it over Sean's mouth, silencing him. Then they applied the ropes; one around each ankle and the third around Sean's neck, just as Sean had restrained Chris bent over the dining room table.

The relief and joy that Chris felt in that moment would be with him for years to come. After everything Sean had said and done to him, now it was his turn to suffer. He returned to the laptop and addressed the now 769 viewers watching. "Well, there he is, as promised. My guests need a few minutes to get ready so we're going to take a brief break. If you need to refresh your drink or get some popcorn, now is the time to do it, you won't want to miss what happens next."

Chris watched as the comments began to stream down the screen, mostly happy face emojis and egg plants. Satisfied that they understood, he paused the live-stream and addressed his guests for the first time. "Great job, guys. He didn't give you too much trouble, did he?"

"Nah," the body builder scoffed. "He's a pussy, just like you said he was."

The third man, the one with the duffle bag, asked, "Is there somewhere we can get changed?"

"Of course!" Chris said happily. "There's an ensuite right through there, and the main bathroom is just down the hall. Is there anything else you guys need?"

"Now that you mention it," the bodybuilder said, holding out his palm, "you can pay us."

"Oh right!" Chris laughed, reaching into his bra and coming out with three crisp one hundred dollar bills, which he distributed to the men. "I can't thank you guys enough for doing this."

"After what you said this guy did to you," the bear said, "we're happy to help make it right. But, there's more money coming after, right?" Chris nodded, "Four hundred each, like we discussed."

Satisfied, each of the men dove into the duffle bag and came out with handfuls of what looked like studded leather belts (in actuality it was their outfits, but you'd never know by looking at them), after which the three men broke off in separate directions to change. Once alone with Sean, Chris went over to the bed and sat down beside him. He quickly turned his head away from Chris, refusing to look at him. But that was fine with Chris, as long as Sean heard what he had to say to him.

"I want you to know something," he began, "I never wanted any of this. If you had just left me alone and kept your hands to yourself, none of this would be happening, I want you to remember that."

The three men returned to the bedroom one after the other, with each of them now wearing the leather straps they'd taken from the duffel bag as clothing. The harnesses they wore had no cod pieces, and their cocks were fully exposed and secured with rubber bands around the base to keep them hard.

"You guys look great!" Chris said cheerily. "Are you ready to play?"

All three of them said that they were, and Chris returned to the laptop and resumed their broadcast noting that the number of participants had risen to 1235 people; only 300 or so more before he'd break even.

"And we're back," he said into the laptop's camera. "Let's get on with tonight's game, which I like to call . . . fuck a sadist."

The three men descended on Sean like wolves taking down an elk. Chris manned the 2nd camera and watched as the three men took position around Sean. The "bear" climbed onto the bed with his legs spread and skooched down the mattress until his crotch was inches away from Sean's face, meanwhile the "body-builder" got behind Sean and started slathering lube all over his right hand. The third man, "duffle bag", produced a leather belt and began taking over the shoulder swings with it, each producing a loud crack and a yelp from their captive. "You like that, you little faggot?" he asked.

The "bear" was slapping his cock across Sean's face when he suddenly ripped the tape off of his mouth. He managed to get out the words: "No God please!" but nothing more before the bear's cock was shoved into his mouth, silencing him just as effectively as the tape had. Chris took a moment to revel in the expression on Sean's face as the realization of, "There's a cock in my mouth" crashed down upon him for the very first time. Chris remembered his first time, most sissies and bottom-bois did, and it hadn't been what he had expected.

He doubted it was what Sean had expected, either, and then men had only just begun to "broaden" his horizon.

The bear wasn't satisfied with the blowjob he was getting from Sean, so he slapped him hard across the face, "Suck it faggot!" he barked at him. Grabbing hold of Sean's head from both sides and beginning to fuck his skull. Meanwhile, the bodybuilder standing behind him pressed his finger and thumb tips together in a kind of cone and poked it into Sean's rectum causing his entire body to jump as though he'd just received an electric jolt.

"You ever been fisted before, boy?" he barked at him.

If Sean heard the question, he gave no indication; he was preoccupied by the huge hands holding the side of his head and pumping it up and down over his even bigger cock. Chris noticed that "dufflebag" was left without anything to do, so he offered him control of the 2nd camera, "Do you mind?"

"Sure, why not?" he shrugged, taking the tripod and positioning the camera to capture Sean's hindquarters and the bodybuilder's hand as it began to disappear inside of him. Chris adjusted the laptop slightly to make sure he had the entire scene in frame before making his exit, and as he turned to leave he had to do a double take after he briefly glanced at the box showing the number of people who were watching.

He saw the number: 2412.

He turned away and his brain registered the number as 241-point something, but that didn't make any sense. How could a person be a "point" something? So, he looked again.

2412

Two thousand, four hundred and twelve.

At a buck-a-viewer, he'd just pain the three sadists he'd hired, and pocketed a cool $900 after paying the F.T.M. website for the privilege of using their servers. It wasn't yet enough for him to rent an apartment, which he'd surely need after this night was over, but he was stunned by the number, nonetheless. Sean began to scream around the edges of the of cock jammed in his mouth, as the bodybuilder forced his hand into him, almost like a ventriloquist inserting his forearm into his trade-prop. Chris had no need or desire to stick around and witness Sean's fate; now that the three men had total control over him, Chris' part was done, and it was time for him to bow out. He left the bedroom to the sounds of Sean's garbled screams, and once outside, he leaned against the wall and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

He sat down on the floor and took off his boots, breathing another sigh of relief for his feet, stood, and carried them downstairs, outside, and back to the pool house.

Checking the time as he returned, he saw that only 25 minutes had passed since his guests arrived, leaving them another hour and 35 minutes to . . . do whatever they had in store for Sean. He wasn't exactly sure what that was, not exactly, but the men had sure asked all the right questions in their emails as they were setting this whole thing up, so he imagined that they had a very good idea of what kind of man Sean was, and therefore how to properly crush him.

Chris knew the type well from experience.

He'd once "dated" a closet-sadist who used to try and sneak progressively painful acts into their play together, to which Chris would always say no to. Eventually, after some serious convincing, Chris had consented to a scenario that he had regretted ever since.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but just as "going to the moon" or "splitting the atom" had seemed like good ideas at the time, they came with some very heavy consequences, and Chris' curiosity regarding being in vulnerable and helpless positions had made him easy prey for his "date." It started with a late-night walk around an empty subdivision being built after slipping into one of the empty houses to "transform" into a female. It was a Saturday night, so it was fitting that Chris dressed and fixed his makeup with the same level of modesty a young woman interested in getting some dick in her would exhibit before heading out to the clubs.

Heels and fishnets . . .

A short skirt . . .

Tons of makeup . . .

And a halter top stuffed to the bursting point with fake tits . . . all partially concealed by an open raincoat, long and black.

He could still hear the echo of his heels clomping up and down the empty streets, dark except for the white glow of the moon partially lighting his way. Chris had managed to go through his entire life (up to that point) able to walk the streets at any time of the night without fear. Well, mostly. Going out in public dressed as a female, he knew there was a chance he could bump into a group of young men who might decide to beat the living shit out of him, but he never had to worry that they might fuck him. That night he had to worry about both. His "friend" (the closet-sadist) was already there, hiding somewhere, watching him . . . stalking him . . . waiting for the right opportunity to pounce. He could tell he was being watched, and it wasn't a good feeling. It was exciting, but also a little terrifying, especially considering that he'd given his stalker permission to get "a little rough" with him. They didn't discuss what that looked like or what it entailed, and that was a big mistake on Chris' part, one that he would never make again, nor would he forget the consequences of.

Men like the closet-sadist, men like Sean, thrive on causing pain. While most normal people would be horrified to make another person scream or reduce them to tears during sex, the exact opposite is true for the secret sadist; in fact, those screams and those tears are beautiful to them, and Chris had given one permission to hurt him.

That night, as Chris had walked around the construction site aimlessly, he hadn't even heard him coming. He wasn't even 100% sure that he was there until he stepped out of the shadows, and punched him in the stomach, dropping him to the dusty ground like a sack of potatoes. Chris naturally tried to cry out, to tell him that he'd gone too far and that this wasn't what Chris had meant by "a little rough", but the punch to the stomach had left him completely winded, and unable to breathe let alone shout. Meanwhile, he was being dragged by the ankles into the shadows where his assailant had been lying in wait. Once there, he was grabbed around the neck and hauled to his feet and bent over a stacked pile of lumber. His wrists were zip-tied behind his back, his panties were violently torn from his body and stuffed so far into his mouth that he couldn't spit them out.

Chris attempted to struggle, but it did nothing to deter the man who he'd thought was a friend as he kicked Chris' legs apart and jammed the tip of his hardened cock into him without even the benefit of spit as lube. He knew perfectly well that Chris needed plenty of lubricant and a slow touch when breaking him in, yet on that night he pushed into him dry, tearing him up badly, not unlike Sean had done to him. Like Sean, he also used no protection; another violation of Chris' hard limits, and finished inside of him.

Though Chris had managed to gradually block out the pain of that night on the construction site, the emotional scars of being used and abused by someone he'd thought was a friend, had never left him. When he was finished with Chris, he'd used a knife to cut off the zip-tie and let him fall to the ground in a heap of sobs, tears, and cum leaking from his body. Then, he left him lying there without another word, forcing Chris to find his own way back to his car, his torn panties in his pocket.

Once there, he'd texted the friend and said something along the lines of, "What the fuck did you do that for?!", to which he received the reply: "You wanted to get fucked like a girl, you asked for it, so don't cry about it now."

It took months, maybe even a couple of years, to get over it. And giving himself to Sean only to be betrayed in the exact same manner was unforgiveable without proper retribution. That's why he'd done what he did in setting Sean up.

His cell phone began vibrating at 10:50 pm; the time which he'd set an alarm to warn him that it was nearly 11pm. He returned to the house and found it nearly silent. Not until he was just outside Jennifer's bedroom door did he hear anything, in this case it was one of the men saying, "That's right, suck that cock."

He entered the room to see Sean lying on the bed on his back with his legs folded back over his head and his ankles secured with the ropes he'd provided. Folded in half like a human taco, "Body-builder" and "Duffle-bag" were standing on opposite sides of the bed and holding Sean's arms down while "The Bear" knelt on the bed and fucked Sean in the ass while simultaneously forcing him to suck his own cock. Cum was already running out of the sides of his mouth and up his cheeks leading Chris to suspect he'd had at least one involuntary orgasm from having his prostate smashed, and he couldn't help but be a little jealous that he didn't have the endowment to ever experience the same thing. Naturally, Sean wasn't enjoying it as Chris surely would have; to him it was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him. To men like Sean, only girls and "faggots" sucked cock, only girls and "faggots" allowed a dick inside of them, and only girls and "faggots" achieved orgasm from the latter. It must have been extremely devastating to him to feel it building within him, fighting it, trying to WILL himself into NOT having an orgasm as the bear's cock rubbed against his prostate over and over again until biology won over his wishes (especially considering that the main bi-product of this involuntary orgasm was shot directly into his throat, and lying on his back as he was there was no other option but to swallow it, just as Sean had done to Chris that first night he visited him in the pool house.

Being fucked by the bear couldn't have been much fun for him, either. Chris vividly remembered the pain from his first dozen times being fucked, and by men who were average in endowment at best; not like the "beer can" Sean was watching slide in and out of his own ass.

The men noticed Chris standing there and smiled at him, having clearly enjoyed their time with Sean, and acknowledged that their two hours was up.

"Okay, you sissy cocksucking faggot," the bear said, grinning down at Sean, "time for the big finale."

Sean shook his head back and forth, and all three of the men laughed as the bear began to fuck him harder and faster until their bodies were slapping together like two big clapping hands. The bear said, "Oh fuck . . . I'm going to cum," at which point he did something that made Chris smile from ear to ear.

He pulled his "tall-boy" sized cock out of Sean, already spurting with hot cum, and reached down between his legs, yanked Sean's cock out of his mouth and replaced it with his own as he climaxed. Chris couldn't imagine anything more fitting for a secret sadist. ATM, or ass-to-mouth, was probably about the most degrading thing a man could do to a sissy . . . having a cock in your mouth that had just come out of the dirtiest part of your body was never pleasant, regardless of how many people "pretended" otherwise on the internet. And for a man like Sean, it was adding insult to injury, and he was injured, particularly his fragile ego.

When the bear's balls were empty, he withdrew from Sean's mouth and looked down at him, "Well, Princess, that's our time. Besides, you're probably full by now, aren't you? How many loads was that . . . was it five or six?"

To this, Sean closed his eyes and sobbed. If it was either five or six, he surely knew.

The bear climbed off of him and the other two released his arms before untying his ankles and leaving him on the bed, not just used by desecrated. Chris moved to the laptop to end their live-stream, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the final number of people viewing: 7949.

Seven thousand . . . nine-hundred . . . and forty-nine.

All at a buck a piece.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, he typed his thanks before ending the broadcast: "Thanks for watching everyone, really. I hope you all enjoyed the show as much as I enjoyed putting it on for you. Bye for now."

He clicked the "end stream" button followed by the "log out" button and closing the laptop.

The three men were chatting casually as though they'd just won a football game where their goal was to "score" on Sean's mouth and rectum. Eventually, they split up and shuffled off to the bathrooms to change back into their street clothes, leaving Chris alone with Sean once again. While Chris had no intentions of rubbing salt into Sean's open wounds, he made it impossible not to with a remark: "You . . . are a fucking dead man."

Chris smiled down at him, "Oh Sean . . . still making threats? When are you ever going to learn? Honestly, I don't know what Jennifer sees in you."

"Not a threat," Sean hissed. "I'm going to fucking ruin your life."

To this, Chris could only smile even wider as he moved to the shelf and took down a familiar stuffed rabbit and held it up for Sean to see before opening up the back and removing the mini-sd card inside of it. "Remember this?" he said, grinning.

Sean's eyes widened to the point of bursting.

"We're even now," Chris informed him as he tucked the sd card into his bra and dropped the rabbit on the floor. "I'll be keeping the money I made tonight, all of it. You'll be happy to know that I'll be moving out just as soon as I find a nice place. I'll also be uploading this video on the internet and if you piss me off, hurt me, or fuck with me in any way, I'll make sure Jennifer and her father both see it. And believe me, by the time I'm finished editing it, it'll look like you wanted everything that happened here tonight."