For Igor, affectionately
We were alone on the floor - me and him. And when I saw one of red
indicators on my panel flashing alarm a long wave of delight washed me through.
I knew it could be just a breakage in the system - but still while I walked along
the corridor there was something tickling in me in anticipation.
The main lights were off - and everything around was so quiet that I had to
do my best to step noiselessly. I was able to do it - even though you would
never say it looking at my mass. At the glass door of his room I stopped.
There was nobody in. I glanced at his table littered with the papers that
was reflecting in the dark French window through the folded jalousie. And then
I saw a square of brighter light lying on the carpet - from the open door of
Mr. Sullivan's study. I couldn't restrain an exulting smile when I turned the
door knob and paced in.
He heard me. But now I moved very swiftly. I was in the room right by the
moment when he was ejecting the disk. It seemed all his blood flooded down from
his subtle face when he looked up at me.
It was his fragility that was always driving me mad. Well, being 6'4"
tall and weighing 300 lbs. almost, I used to look downwards at other people -
but there was something so slight in him; something so vulnerable that made me
think about him as about a priceless porcelain doll - so brittle. This was how
I imagined him in my arms - held, cared, cherished, broken, crushed, destroyed...
I worked as a guard for two years there. He was my idee-fix for the most part
of this time - and I didn't hope that it would work itself out.
I reveled in him. 24-year-old, hardly breaking 5'9" slender being. No,
he didn't seem skinny, just frail and light. His suits were immaculate; his
shoes cost dearly - and his fancy ties were the only thing that was coming
beyond the limits of austerity. I liked it. Okay, there was no anything I
didn't like about him.
His light brown hair was wavy, his eyes were hazel-green and his teeth
imperfect. He told me to call him Daniel - in those times when we changed some
phrases with him. He smiled to me every time he passed my place on the way to
work or back - and he never omitted his soft "Hello!"
His voice was not soft now.
"Igor?" if he thought he sounded natural he was wrong. "Igor?
What's the matter?"
His pretty lips didn't obey him - as much as he tried - trembling the same
as his thin hand holding the disk was trembling. I grinned. I don't know if my
grin looked encouraging to him - but he made an attempt to return it briefly.
"This is what I would like to know," I said. "What's the
It seemed I noticed him exhaling in a kind of relief. He moved to me, trying
to put the disk to his inside pocket - and missing it.
"It's okay, Igor," he said in a bit weary voice. "Everything
He paced down the step from the support where Mr. Sullivan's table was
located when I hit him. I made a full-strength stroke, heavy and smashing, over
his face. For a split second I sensed the warm smoothness of his cheek under my
fist - and it made me feel dizzy. It was the first time when I touched him. The
dreams were coming true.
He gasped. The force I hit him with was so big that he didn't stay on his
feet. I guess he well might have hurt his tail-bone when he flopped down on the
floor - but even if so I didn't know it for sure. The disk slid out of his
hands and he pressed them to his face instead. The scarlet trickles of blood
looked like drawn with ink over his white fingers.
He didn't say anything except the astonished "Oh!" when I punched
him. And now he just stared at me over his palms - with huge darkening eyes of
a frightened child.
"You are not supposed to have the keys from Mr. Sullivan's study, are
you?" I stooped for the disk. It was a magnet disk, thick and heavy. I
picked it up and put to my own pocket. Then I took his wrists and pulled him up,
drawing his hands aside at the same time.
I backhanded him again. And again. Ten, maybe, twelve times over his face.
His head was dangling helplessly under my blows. I held him firmly. I stopped
when I was sure that he would topple when I let him go.
"You will go to jail if I tell police what you were doing," I said
wiping my palm on his shirt. There was blood between my fingers - and more
blood over his lips and chin. I even noticed some drops of it spilled on the
floor. "Or I can call Mr. Sullivan - and he'll solve this thing
himself," I added. "For all I know about him he well may put on
concrete boots on you."
I let him loose and he grasped the edge of the table not to fall. He was
still silent - and I watched him how he slowly raised his hand and touched his
face carefully. His cheeks were bright-pink now - and I suppose it hurt when he
ran the tips of his fingers over them.
"But, maybe," I started again - and now I did try to seem
impassive - even though everything in me was singing with pleasure. I was going
to pronounce the words that could turn out the most important for me, you see -
and I wanted them to have their impact. "Maybe, we don't need to put it
out, do we? If we agree that there was no alarm - and I didn't see anything -
and you didn't do anything... What, Daniel?"
He looked at me now. Oh, of course, he did! And, God, his eyes were so
innocent. As if it hadn't been him who broke the security system of Mr.
Sullivan's industrial files!
I used to imagine him blemished during the long sessions when I got my peaks
thinking about him. I made him be a whore, seeing with my inner vision how in
some lonely hours he would approach my post, overwhelmed by horniness, with his
eyes misty, yearning for my manliness, taking off his jacket slowly and sensually...
Or I fantasized about him being a drug-addict - how he would stop by at my
house when my wife and children would be away - and ask for money, eager to pay
with his body for it - oh, the image of his pale face on the pillow in our
He was worse than this or that. He was a thief. And there was no chance I
would let him get away with this.
"You know what I want, Daniel?"
He kept silence - but I didn't mind to speak. I knew we were going to play
upon my rules. He blinked. I reached to him and grabbed his upper arms.
Yeah, he really was light. I hoisted him. As much so that it was convenient
for me to kiss his mouth - and, I believe, it was much enough for him not to
feel the ground. For a moment I looked in his staring eyes so close to me - and
then I enveloped his lips with mine. He tasted with blood.
He was breathless when I let him go - and there was such a mesmerized
expression in his eyes that I couldn't doubt - he understood his part of the
suggested deal. I don't know if he regarded the possibility not to comply -
because I didn't give him any choice. I raised him again and threw him belly
over on Mr. Sullivan's table.
"Let's be nice to each other," I mumbled pushing my hand between
his legs. "Let's be nice. You won't be any worse with it."
His basket was soft and resilient under my palm. No, he was not horny; he
certainly was not - but I hardly could care less about it. I was just consumed
with the feeling of his defenseless genitals squeezed in my hand. It was
turning ME on - what else?
His privates were just of the right size for me to cup them in my palm. And
I was doing it - rubbing them, massaging them, lightly at first and then
applying more pressure. It was warm between his legs - I felt it even through
the cloth of his pants - lovely tender place! I pushed my hand under his balls,
gripped them and tightened my fist.
I knew I was hurting him with all this. But only when my palm mashed his
nuts he gave out a sound - a short moan, the same light as his voice usually
"Yes, Daniel?" I looked at him; my hand stayed where it was.
He looked breath-takingly like that - lying on his back, with his head
raised when he tried to watch me and with these streaks of crusting blood under
his nose. His eyes spoke - oh, I could read in his eyes without any effort how
much I was hurting him - so much that only fear to be given out stopped him
But now I wanted real words from him.
"Is anything wrong, Daniel?"
"Not so hard," at last he said it - and, since his head lolled
back, he couldn't see the smirk on my face. "Please, Igor, don't do it so
I was not sure - maybe, he thought I was paining him unwillingly? Because my
hands were too big and my strength was too great? I didn't loose the grip. I
stroked my hand over his balls - but with the same smashing heaviness. And when
he moaned again I bent to him and muffled his voice in the kiss.
His lips were soft and hot. I ate them, feeling the splits on them my blows
had left and drawing more blood. My other hand was tugging the knot of his tie
Daniel was panting when I left him - and he tried to turn to his side, to
prevent me touching him more, I suppose. His hands he had managed to keep idle
until then were covering his crotch now.
"Oh, no!" I said in almost mild voice. "It's not good. I want
you my way."
He didn't resist when I uncurled him. I believe, he did set his mind to go
through what I wanted - since I promised him to be nice to him, too. I yanked
his tie off and started with the buttons of his shirt.
He was not the first man I was doing. There were some gays I encountered
when I was younger - and a couple of hustlers later, when my wife sulked at me.
But he was the first straight guy I was going to have sex to - the same
straight as I was. And he was the first one I really wanted.
I pulled his shirt off from him together with his jacket - an ironic
alternative to his actions in my dreams! But the result was the same.
His bare chest was as smooth as I thought it would be - with his skin thin
and white and hairless. There was some dark curly hair under his arms, however,
I noticed it - and I told him to raise his arms to see it better.
He bit his lip when doing it. Was it with shame, I wondered. With his face
so pink after the beating I couldn't see him blushing more - but there was a
curious hurtful look in his eyes. He didn't want to show himself to me. But he
obeyed me, he was obeying me exactly.
I put my palms on his chest - he held his hands over his head - and ran my
thumbs along his ribs. When I touched his very tiny nipples his chest started
heaving. He was beautiful! With this contrast of his fair skin and dark hair in
his under-arms - and these bright circles of his little tits! Just my colder
hands on his warm skin were enough to make his nubs erect.
I moved him briskly. This sight was so much for me - and even though I was
savoring every second of the whole thing I needed a little more sensation right
now. I stood between his legs and pulled him to the edge of the table, so that
his ass was on the brink of it - and his crotch hit upon my own bulging front.
The feeling was staggering! My hard, itching shaft pressed into his groin
through the layers of our clothes was almost bursting out. I looked at Daniel's
face. His nostrils flared.
Whether he liked it or not - hmm, as if I had doubts there! - I was proceeding
with him. His chest was so narrow that I could practically cover it with my
palms. I patted him - his belly right under his rib-cage where his skin was
taut because of the way I made him keep his arms. His stomach was hollow and I
could find his navel under the belt of his pants.
He flinched greatly when I drove my index finger into his belly button. Dear
me, it was so small and hot! The cavity than was not capable to accommodate
anything - and when I pushed my finger deeper, rotating it, I felt Daniel's
body start trembling.
"Hands!" I reminded him. I knew he was close to put them down to
push me away.
I could see how strong the pain was by the very tensed expression of his
face. The line of his jaw sharpened suddenly - and like that his features started
reminding gyps mask. Only there were tiniest drops of sweat appearing on his
I took his little nipple in my fingers carefully. It felt so tender on the
rough tips of my digits that at first I stayed reluctant. I just rolled it
softly, studying the minute changes of Daniel's expression. Then, when I
tweaked it, he yelped.
I leant over him. His bleeding lips trembled when I gnawed in them, kissing
him - and I sensed his chest raising and falling out of order under my heavy
torso. I had both his tits between my thumbs and forefingers now - and I
stopped suppressing my force when pinching and plucking at them.
He started thrashing. He moaned into my mouth, too. But I held him pinned
very nicely - with my front between his thighs and with my weight over him. His
hands pushed into my shoulders - but there was no way he could drive me back.
It was hot! I jabbed my hips forward and rocked them - as if I was already
fucking him - and my fingers worked crushing his pretty tits in merciless
Then I let him free abruptly - and when his widened eyes - just mere pupils!
- stared at me I spat on his face.
I don't know why just that broke him. He was mostly silent until then - and
now he sobbed aloud, shamelessly, as a little child cries. His eyes filled with
tears - so much of them that he couldn't keep them in and they ran down his
"Oh, come on!" I sounded disgusted. "I haven't even started,
Daniel, believe me! It was nothing so far, just nothing."
I yanked him down from the table by his hair, to his knees. I towered over
him when he sat on his heels, shaking and wiping his face feverishly. I touched
my belt, pulling out the heavy metal-sheathed tip of it. When I unzipped my
pants my spear strove forward immediately, exhausted by the restrain.
"Daniel," I took his hair again. I had to keep him like this to
make him face my crotch while I liberated my cock out of my undies. "Look
at that. It is for you, Daniel. It was always ready for you."
He stopped whimpering when he saw my weapon. Oh, I was not surprised, I knew
what impression it made on everybody who saw it. 10,5" of good and fat
uncircumcised cock was not what you usually have luck to find in guy's
trousers. And now it seemed even more expanded, with every vein full of blood
and purple-dark. It seeped pre-cum. And it was all for my Daniel.
"What's with you?" I didn't allow him when he tried to back from
it. In no way. I pulled him closer - his face - to it - so close, actually,
that I could feel his faint breath on it - and it was so hot that Daniel's
exhales seemed cool in comparison. "I am going to stick it to your pretty
mouth," I sighed out. "You know it. You know I'll do it."
I have no idea what was in his head when he compressed his lips. There was
something childish in him all the way - but he still continued to surprise me
with his feeble resistance when he had lost long ago. I held his face close and
I took my cock and rubbed its tip against his mouth. He didn't like my spat; he
well might dislike my pre-cum even more.
"Open it," I ordered. I ordered almost gently. "Open your
sweet lips for me. And I won't have to tear your mouth open then."
His face crumpled. My, he did look like a baby now - so pink-faced and with
the expression as if he was going to weep. But he didn't weep. He made an
"O" with his lips - and I forced my dick there.
He gagged immediately. Well, what do you want - the size was incompatible.
Only I was not in the mood to care if he was retching or not. I just shoved -
and as I had his hair in my grip he had no way - the ring of his throat let me
in until I felt my balls pressing against his chin.
His muffled moan was harrowing. I felt his hands clawing into the material
of my pants. I pulled - God, it felt like I was wringing his throat out -
causing another heartbreaking groan of his - and then slammed back.
His knees went weak. It was I who held him upright by his hair - and by my
cock impaling his gullet. He breathed through his nose in short slurping gasps,
maybe, with blood clots in his nasopharynx, and his face was changing its
color. His lips were stretched terrifyingly - and there was more blood on them,
moisturizing my cock when I drove it back and forth.
I fucked his mouth as if it was a rubber cunt - without any restraint, as
violently as I felt like - but there was a great difference between a rubber
toy and his throat. He was responsive. I sensed every convulsion of his
contracting gullet, every turning inside-out urge.
And what was driving me nuts even more - the sight that was probably the
most repulsive and the most erotic I had ever seen. How his throat was swelling
with my dick inside, filled completely, looking like it was about to rip open
with the pressure in it.
I stuck and stuck deeper, with my balls grounding against his chin - but
when I felt on the point of cumming I pulled it back. The first load I placed
on the back of his tongue - to make him swallow it. The second one to his mouth
- to let him taste me. And the last one I spurted right on his face. I was so
very curious to see how he would like it, you know.
Daniel dropped on his fours when I let his hair loose. Sweet Jesus! What a
show he gave for me! Everything I waited from him and a bit more. He was
jerking in fits of cough - and it sounded like he puked at the same time - and
I saw the clots of my creamy liquid spilling out of his mouth - blended with
blood for some reason. I couldn't see his face under his tangled, matted hair -
but the sight of his shuddering back was enough.
Was it the same guy who passed me by today in the morning, so neat in his
expensive clothes, with his swift little smile he was usually sending to me?
There was no more decency in him, no dignity. I pushed him with the tip of my
boot in his flank.
It took some minutes for him to compose himself enough just to sit on the
floor and look at me. His smeared face looked sickening - this sweat and blood
and sperm - but he didn't try to clean himself any more. He was pressing his
hands to his throat. And there was such hopeless, terrorized expression in his
"Daniel," I called him. I waited for his words. I wanted him to ask
"Is it all, Igor? Can I go now?" He didn't ask. But I answered
anyway. "No, Daniel, it is not all. You are going to be even nicer to me,
I made him wipe the floor and the table from his discharges with his own
shirt - and when he was done with it I took his shoulder and guided him from
the study. There was the key in the lock and I took it out. I let him carry his
shirt and I picked his jacket and tie with me. I switched the light off when
I didn't touch him while we were going along the corridor. He was shivering
- and it was the funniest sight to look at his half-naked body and how he
desperately clasped his filthy shirt to his chest. He tried to speak when I led
him to the corridor.
"Somebody might see..."
"You think so? At ten p.m., huh?"
He was inefficient and he knew it. There was nobody except us - and other
guards in the building.
Daniel stood reeling when I pushed the elevator's button. We were on the
fifteenth floor. He winced when he saw that I chose the first for our destination.
It was another of my favorite fantasies, you know. The elevator - how once
we'd take it together with him - and then it'd stick between the floors - and
it would be so hot inside that we would be forced to take off our clothes. He
was not hot now, oh, no! He stood in the corner, facing me - thin as a boy -
and I could see him and his numerous reflections in the mirrors on the walls
and ceiling of the elevator.
I brushed his soft hair back from his moist forehead. His skin was burning.
"Where are we going, Igor?" his voice sounded odd after what I had
done to his throat - as if he couldn't do anything but whispering. I smiled.
We guards used this room for rest sometimes - well, the nights usually were
quiet there, so, it was okay if one guard took charge for a couple or more
floors at once. It was a tiny facility, really - just the place for a sofa and
a little table - but the guys took efforts to make it look nicely. There were
pillows and blankets on the bed - and a lot of pictures on the walls.
"Like it?" I looked at Daniel's face when guiding him in. I
couldn't say if he liked - he just slid with his eyes around and let his lids
It was alright, I didn't bring him here to show him our place. I had another
idea in my mind.
The images of him luring me to his bed were always sweet - but even sweeter
- and, as it turned out, closer to reality were the fantasies of me taking his
virginity, being his first man. I thought of a beautiful setting for us to do
it - a lux room in some expensive hotel - or about doing it out-of-doors - on
the sea-shore or in the clearing of a wood, under the bright jolly sun. But the
sickly light and stale sheets of the sofa were fun, too.
"Strip," I said. I could do without saying it - I could flip him over
and peel the rest of his clothes from him - no big deal! - but I wanted his
compliance. I wanted to see him doing it. "Yes, Daniel, you'd better do
His teeth started chattering. He couldn't part with his soaked shirt, didn't
stop covering his chest with it - still less to take off his other clothes! I
sneered. I waited. And then his hands became limp - his shirt fell down - and
he pulled his belt out.
I didn't doubt he would. Oh, I knew for sure I'd broken him when dicking his
mouth - and with the pain he had experienced then and before that - even though
he knew there would be more pain - he was not able to disobey me. He was mine.
His undies were white and cotton. He took off his pants first, then his
socks - and only then, when I still stood with my arms crossed against my
midriff and peered at him he pulled them down.
My heart jumped at the sight of the soft patch of his pubic hair, the same
dark as his under-arm hair, moist and curly. I was somehow touched to see that
except it there was only a hardly visible trail of down on the bottom part of
his belly. His tights were almost smooth - and there was a little hair on his
shins and on his forearms.
"Take off you watch, too," I suggested rather peacefully. It was
just a thin stripe of metal around his wrist - but I wanted to see him without
even this minimal protection.
I noticed his belly button was slightly deformed with the pushing I'd made
with my finger. And I scratched him; there were red dents of my nail on his
bruised skin. It looked wretchedly. It was urging me to touch it again. But I
delayed it for a while.
His flabby cock was uncircumcised and seemed small to me. Well, how it
wouldn't be - I could bet his genitals just shriveled with the fear that was
overwhelming him. And I could notice the discolored marks my hands left there a
short time ago.
"You are so good-looking, Daniel," I said. I was not joking, I
meant it. "Now... lay down."
He moved as if he was drugged heavily. I followed him with my eyes when he
kneeled on the sofa; I wondered if he minded its grayish sheets. I don't know
what about others but I usually slept there fully dressed. Well, maybe, the
hookers the guys called here were naked. Yeah, these sheets soaked a lot of cum
and other juices, you know.
"Face down," I explained him. He lay prone, with his face turned
to me and his hands digging into the pillow.
I guess he would prefer not to see me. But he had to be too afraid of what I
was going to do not to look.
There were many things I wanted to do to him. But one went the first. The
When I was pulling it out upstairs the idea came to me - and now just the
swishing sound it was slithering out of the nests with hardened me again. His
back was so unblemished - and his bum, too - so small and taut, with the
hollows of tension on its sides.
"I am going to whip you," I said. "Did your parents ever whip
He didn't answer. I had to repeat the question - and then he said it:
I could have guessed it myself.
"It WAS a neglect, wasn't it?"
He kept silent again; I stopped speaking, too. Instead I raised the belt and
lashed him over his ass.
My father took care about my upbringing. When I was little it was very
unpleasant - and when I grew up I stopped paying so much attention to it (never
mind that at thirteen I was bigger than my Dad!) But when he beat me he beat me
with a usual belt, without metal tip.
I was just shocked when I saw how I fractured his skin with one blow! It smacked
heavily - and it didn't leave just a red trace. On Daniel's butt there was a
short and deep scab - as if I tore a bit of his skin from there. And there was
He made a choked shriek with it. It sounded odd. I looked and saw that he
was stuffing the pillow's corner in his mouth. Uh oh. I felt sick with
the foul linen; he didn't seem to care.
I went on whipping him. He didn't make much noise - but I didn't have to
hear anything to know if he was hurt. My mouth was getting dry when I saw these
bloody tears appearing on his ass. I didn't beat him on his back. The belt was
too heavy, I knew I could injure him seriously if I caught his kidneys or
something. I was scarring him. Marking him for all his life.
I made about twelve whips over him - and when I at last tossed the belt on
the sofa Daniel got limp. His head lolled awry and his hands became flaccid. He
lay in the same pose as throughout the whole ordeal but now there were long
shivers racking him; the after-effects of being so tensed while I lashed him, I
I stooped. Daniel gave out a pitiful wail when my palms lay down on the
backs of his thighs and I rubbed there, bothering one of his bleeding welts. My
Lord, his skin was so hot! I almost couldn't stop myself from stroking it,
submerged in the sensations. His ass-cheeks were strained. The most narrow and
tender buttocks I've ever felt. A boy could have like these.
And between them there was his warm hole I was going to poke my dick into.
I knew I would do it. It would mean the completeness of the thing, the
consummation, so to say. But when I was looking at his ass and mauling it I was
in hesitation. He was really much smaller than me. It wouldn't be good for him
when I stuck my cock inside him. Then I threw away this thought. What the fuck!
It was the chance of my life. And it was me who was doing him a favor.
Daniel's body quivered finely when I pried his ass-cheeks open. I supposed
he knew what I was about to do. I just wondered what he could feel - after
seeing my instrument, after tasting it in the bottom of his throat! Only there
was no way out for him.
"Please..." at first I could hardly believe he was speaking to me.
"Please, Igor..." if he was going to ask me not to do it he was even
more stupid than I thought. "Please, use some lubricant."
I laughed. Fuckin' Daniel! Fuckin' naivete! He turned out not to be so
ignorant, after all, didn't he? Maybe, I shouldn't be surprised if I'd find him
stretched as a whore there? Well, I used a lube. I spat. My saliva was not good
enough on his face - but he should have been grateful to me that I applied some
of it against his tightened pucker.
No, he WAS a virgin, of course. I understood it at once when I pressed the
blunt head of my cock to his pinkish entrance. He didn't let me in at first. I
slid down to his balls instead. I set once again but this time I held myself in
position more firmly. And I pushed and pushed, hearing how Daniel's breath was
breaking to very frequent and shallow, sobbing-like. There were words in it - I
was amused to hear them:
"Please... Ooh, God... Please, I can't... No!"
He screamed it out - at the moment when my dick at last slashed past the
ring of his sphincter. Y-yes! I was in. I deflored him. I was his first and I
spilled his virginal blood.
If he thought the pressure of my cock against his anus unbearable now he had
to get acquainted with what was really hard to bear. I didn't linger with an
inch of my penis inside him - even if I did care about him there was no speech
of getting used, anyway - I just slammed it in until I was in to the hilt.
You know I fucked asses before. Daniel's ass-cunt was probably the tightest
I've fucked. But it was not the grip - not only the grip - that was
preoccupying me that much. It was the realization. Look, here he was - my
Daniel whom I adored from the distance for long two years - and I got him at
last. I had him. My dick was in his ass and I was fucking shit out of him.
Not only shit, actually. I felt I tore him the same moment when I penetrated
him - and there was enough blood now to make my strokes easier. I lay over him
- and I rammed my hips up and down on him like electric bore, without pauses,
without pampering, as fast and hard as I wanted to.
At first Daniel sounded like he was vomiting. Hmm, I guess being smashed
under me was not the best position for puking - but, maybe, he wouldn't puke
anyway. He stopped speaking - and there was something correct in it. Oh,
really, why should he speak? He was just a vagina, a hole for me to drill and I
didn't need any whining and pleading from him.
He was moaning, however. From time to time I caught the crooning sounds he
made - low and lame and without perceptible correspondence with the speed and
violence of my movements.
Then, after a while, I felt something warm and wet spreading under us and I
realized that Daniel pissed himself.
I think it was this slightly sweet smell of his piss that made it to me. I
just erupted with sperm - deep in his rectum - and pleasure was going through
me on and on like shock-waves.
* * *
A quarter an hour later I sat on the chair at the sofa, smoked and spoke to
my walkie-talkie. Daniel lay on his back in front of me motionlessly. His legs
were spread in the most obscene way but he didn't do anything to pull them
together. I had yanked off the sheet from under him - with wet circle of his
piss on it and clots of blood soaked into it; he didn't seem to notice. He
didn't react either when I wiped his perineum from my semen and his outputs -
the only thing I registered was some minor trembling of his body.
His eyes were open and his stare fixed, with the pupils so big as if he was
in half-darkness. His expression - well, the lack of it - didn't change even
with what I was saying to my hand-transmitter.
"Do you feel like fucking an ass, Bill? I have one here. Wanna fuck it
while it is still tight? It won't be soon."
Daniel responded only when I bent to him and carefully twisted his balls in
my palm. His hands moved sharply - as if he tried to protect himself - and I
saw how he bucked with his long bare legs pathetically; he was gasping softly.
It was better; I wanted him lucid for Bill.
Bill was a guard from the ninth floor; fat, in his forties and with his
shoulders usually spattered with dandruff. He was always the first to tell
tales about how great a fucker he was (as far as I remembered, he was assuring
us that some of the photos on the walls he got from the girls themselves) - but
it was as clear as daylight that even his own wife didn't give it to him often.
I thought it was a good idea to make a gift with Daniel's ass for Bill - the
more so as now, when he was not cherry anymore, it didn't have to matter for
him: one more, one less.
I fondled Daniel's prick when Bill came in. He was horny - his basket bulged
- I think he started being horny at the same moment when I invited him - and by
the time he reached the rest-room he was already eager to fuck anything and
everything he would find.
"It's Danny," I said. "Danny, it's Billy."
"Stoned, isn't he?" there was a little pause while Bill processed
what he was seeing - and then he came to the conclusion of his own.
"Yeah, right," I nodded impassively.
It was enough. I returned to the chair and Bill unzipped his pants. He had a
red and smelly 7" circumcised piece of meat, already glistening with
pre-cum. I saw him raising Daniel's hips up to get access to his hole - and at
the next second Bill flopped with all his weight over his body.
Daniel's head leaned back. I watched the long cramp distorting his face -
obviously at the moment when Bill stubbed his dick into his agonizing hole. Daniel
made sounds; they were not loud - just some broken, excruciating sighs that
could be easily taken for sighs of pleasure by Bill - or just ignored.
I looked at Bill's wall-like back and fat ass when he pounded into Daniel -
and I could see Daniel's frozen gaze over Bill's shoulder. I was stroking my
own cock inside my trousers - without haste, uninfluenced with the rhythm of
Bill's movements. It had to be my third orgasm today and I wanted to prolong it
as much as possible.
Bill humped and humped Daniel - I suppose it WAS work for him - even though
I opened him already and well-lubricated with my juice. Bill was sweating and
panting - while the moist slaps of his meat in Daniel's fuck-hole grew faster
and sharper. Then he pressed over him - drove his hips down and forward as if
he wanted to stuff not only his cock but his balls, too, into Daniel's opening
- and I understood he ejaculated.
I didn't turn him out; he stayed lying over Daniel for some time, exhausted.
It was curious to look at them. My Daniel, so sweet and dainty, covered by an
ugly fat guard, waiting without a word until his dick would slide out of his
ravaged hole. Bill was always considered a shit among us guards. Well, now
Daniel was lower than shit.
Bill didn't even look at him when getting up, just shook hands with me and
left. I had to do some clean up again before Daniel was ready to accept another
In the next hours we had more visitors. Actually, I contacted every guard in
the building - except Samantha :-) Some of those I called refused.
About one third of those who came did it with Daniel's mouth; others used
his rear end. He didn't produce anything but reflex motions mostly. Only when
one of the guys started chewing on his nipples really hard he thrashed and
cried out faintly.
I had a mellow orgasm while watching others breaking in his pussy.
When they all left I sat on the sofa, took him under his arms and pulled to
my shoulder. Daniel's face and neck and even his hair was covered in layers of
semen. The smell was so strong that I felt an urge of nausea. I looked at his
face. His head hanged loosely and I supported it with my palm. I felt incomparably
strange when putting my mouth over his fouled lips and kissing him.
His eye-lashes flickered. I held him in my arms, rocking him and patting his
back. And then I felt how his body jolted. It was like some powerful hands
shook him all over. He drew his breath in and his fingers hooked into the cloth
of my shirt. He didn't struggle, not at all. He clung to me - to my broad warm
chest, nestled against me - and his weak hands were crumpling my clothes as if
he tried to pull me closer to him. He held me as a baby with the only reflex to
"Oh, sweet Daniel," I whispered, moved. "You are my poor
He was weeping. I knew it because I felt his tears through my shirt.
I had to pull it out of his fingers when I put him back on the sofa. I took
his jaw and turned his face to me.
"Listen here," I snapped my fingers to attract his attention. His
delicate brows were curved arch-like in half-conscious suffering when he looked
at me. "I'll let you go soon, Daniel, do you understand me? It is almost
over. There is just one more thing I want to do. I am going to fist you."
Only his lips moved. I pressed my fingers upon his face so deeply that I
could see the darkening marks I was leaving there. I raised my hand in front of
his eyes to make it clearer for him what I wanted to do. I still couldn't
understand whether he caught it or not. His face went in between my palms and I
pawed him a little, cuddled his face before started the thing.
He was still leaking cum and blood and yellowish liquid, even though I wiped
him after every customer. But it could turn out fortunate for him - and easier
for me eventually. I pushed two of my fingers into him.
His sphincter muscle was dead. It didn't even flutter when I rotated my
fingers inside him. Fresh bleeding was caused when I added my ring-finger -
nothing too terrible, it just made the passage slicker.
Daniel's eyes rolled up to his head when I stuck my palm without the thumb
in. He didn't make a sound; just showed whites. I stopped. I didn't want to do
it like this. I slapped his cheeks until he came back. And I watched him
closely while driving my entire fist inside.
He stopped his breathing. His mouth gaped - but there was no exhale coming
out. Instead some fluid-like bloody foam trickled out of his lips.
It was a monstrous sight. His narrow body rigid with the wild pain - and my
huge hand impaling him, my hairy wrist sticking between his ass-cheeks. I
grunted with pleasure. What I saw, what I felt was unforgettable. And when I
put my other hand on his little belly and pressed it I could sense my presence
inside him - my fist stuffing his bowels.
He rose and fell flat when I pulled out. My hand was slimy all over and I
wiped it automatically. I looked at Daniel's orifice. I was enchanted. And I
felt I was about to throw up at the same time.
"Oh, dear," I murmured; I knew he didn't register my words.
"You are SO gross."
His hole looked like a woman's cunt after delivering a baby - wide-opened,
ragged ring in mucus-mixed blood; I could see the inside walls of his rectum
through it - and their glistening surface was quivering as if he was going to
shit them out.
I dropped his legs I held upraised and walked to the table. From my pocket I
took out the disk and the key and glued them together with a stripe of scotch.
Then I bent to Daniel once more - and forced the little improvised package into
his yawning opening. The disk was 3,5" wide - and it went it with just
Daniel was like a dead thing when I was dressing him. I put on every bit of
his clothes, from his clean cotton jockeys to his jolly tie. When I was pulling
up his trousers his flabby hands revived. He shifted as if he tried to help me.
I partly dragged, partly walked him to the street. There was his lonely car
on the parking place. I guess he found some unexpected sources of strength in
himself when he realized I was really going to let him go. I helped him to get
into the car.
"I can't drive you, you know," I said. "I can call for a taxi
if you want."
For a short moment his sunken eyes stopped on me. Then he shook his head.
I don't know what it cost to him to get home this morning.
Two weeks later Mr. Sullivan's company went bankrupt. I heard vague rumors
about some other firm that greatly profited from it. The fifteenth floor of our
building was rented by a new lease-holder.
I met Daniel once after that. It was summer and one of these usual traffic
jams that can make any driver mad. I saw him in his new metallic Mitsubishi. He
didn't notice me. His face was placid and thoughtful and he was typing swiftly
in the note-book on his lap.