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CW: physical violence, bullying, SPH, spit, coerced sex, forced drinking & weed use. This one gets a little rough in the middle. Let me know if there should be a part II. Enjoy.
I can’t reply to anonymous messages, so if you want a question answered you need to use an email when you send a message or leave a comment here. I get a LOT of questions from anonymous senders that I’d love to be able to respond to. Thanks!
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There was no love lost between me and Roger Duffman. In college we had loathed each other, running in the same circles but rubbing each other the wrong way. We belonged to rival frats, and while I was a co-captain of our soccer team, he had been a star of the rugby union and played club hockey. Unfortunately he remained a fixture on the periphery of my post-collegiate group of friends, several of whom played in a recreational rugby league with him. More recently, about a year ago, he had begun dating my ex-girlfriend Kara. This was immediately after we broke up, and it was pretty obvious he had been hitting it when I was still with her, too. They were through now, though, from what I heard.
Frankly I couldn’t grasp what Kara ever saw in him. Maybe after going out with a good looking guy like me, the slut needed a caveman to make her feel pretty. “Duff” was very much a neanderthal – big furrowed brow and perpetual scowl on his face, a barrel chest, a big beer belly but muscled arms and a thick coating of body hair that made little distinction between chest, shoulders, and back. Even in college his hairline had been aggressively receding and now he was bald, with just a closely buzzed pate of dark hair. Kara must have been reeling from me and needed to fuck some big ugly guy to nurse her ego.
At 26 I was still in a love-’em-and-leave-’em mindset that being a good-looking guy permitted me. I know it sounds arrogant but I’m hot, a handsome face and great body. I was hot enough that I can get pretty much any girl I want. But the idea that she might have been cheating on me with that baboon still made me feel sick.
So I was not excited when I saw him swagger into my gym, winking at me in the mirror as he pressed an amount of weight over his head an order of magnitude heavier than I could ever lift. I was even less pleased when he followed me into the gym’s gang showers. Sidled right up next to me even though there were plenty of available shower heads.
“Hey Dougie, long time no see. How’s it hanging?” He turned his big naked body toward me as he looked me in the eye. I looked down and saw that his wide, hairy feet were planted about two feet away from me. Duff was flagrantly violating multiple provisions of Guy Code.
“Sup.” I said dismissively, turning from him. He leaned over, looking down at my groin, and whistled.
“Not hanging much at all, by the looks of it. Just sort of… poking out.” He said, his eyes locked on my junk as he gestured with his pinky finger illustratively. His brazen innuendo was shocking, and I felt a warm rush of humiliation wash over me. Another Guy Code violation, talking about another guy’s junk. Yet it was true. After exercise, my dick always shrinks up, retracts. I just had a little peanut at the moment, a little pecker. Compared to the big thing he had hanging, which I had caught glances of out of the corner of my eye, I was outmanned. I felt my face and chest bloom red in embarrassment.
“Fuck off, faggot.” I spit out, not able to look at him. He chuckled at me.
“Bro get my back for me.” He asked, presenting his broad, hairy back and equally furry ass to me, laughing with his back to me. I ignored him but stole a glance at his body. He had a tattoo that wrapped around his right love handle and stretched along the side to his stomach, one of those big blocks of writing, then some tribal crap on his left shoulder and bicep, as well as third of a snake that coiled around his thigh.
“Oh, come on, just because I fucked your girl doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” He turned to me again, a fiendish smile on his face.
“Well I was done with the slut. I feel sorry for her, going from me to an ugly fuck like you. How’d my dick taste?” I shot off, summoning all the false bravado I could muster. He chortled, and took a step towards me.
“Dougie, look between my legs then look between yours. Kara made a BIG step up.” He shook his hog at me, a cocky shit-eating grin on his face.
I gasped a bit, both at the size of the endowment and his boldness in showing it off to me. Duff was well hung, no doubt about it- I don’t think I’d ever seen one that big. Completely flaccid it hung mid-thigh, and it slapped noisily against his wet skin as he played with it shamelessly.
I felt paralyzed. On the team, guys had talked about sex and dicks in the showers and locker room. There had even been some teasing of the littler ones like mine, but never so openly had a man bragged about his cock size while belittling mine. And Duff wasn’t my teammate, far from it. He was my enemy.
“You know what poker oyna else, little man? Kara told me how much you liked taking her strap on right up your ass.” He gestured lewdly with two big fingers, pointing them upwards while twisting his wrist.
My stomach dropped and my face went red with . I can’t believe she had told an asshole like Roger Duffman details about our experiments in the bedroom.
“Oh yeah. She said you’d moan like a bitch and your little dick would leak just like a pussy.” He laughed. I just grumbled to myself.
“I don’t judge man. Nothing wrong with being a homo.” He spoke with mock sincerity. Then he slapped my shoulder to get my attention, making me look at him.
“You try the real thing yet, Dougie?” He was wagging his hardening cock at me. I looked at the over-sized cudgel of red flesh slapping around his belly and thighs, for far too long I gaped at it before finally finding my words.
“Go fuck yourself.” I spat out.
“Fuck myself? No, see I think you’d rather I bend you over and fuck you right up that little ass of yours. Kara said you told her you always wanted to try it.” He winked and shook his hard-on at me again. It was huge! Again I felt the gnawing urge to stare at it openly, to admire it.
I forced myself to turn away, focusing on finishing my shower as quickly as possible.
“Come on Dougie, I know you’re curious. You’d have to be curious to take a big fucking dildo up your asshole. I know you want to try the real thing. And look at it, Dougie. Look how big I am. This is as real as it gets.” I stole one last peak at hig big hard hog that he openly pumped and wanked it in his thick hairy hand. Duffman’s cruel laughter filled the shower room, rich with triumph that I couldn’t help but steal another glimpse at his manhood.
“You’re one sick faggot.” I grumbled, then slammed my fist against the faucet to turn off the shower, turning my back from him and exiting in a hurry.
–
I tried to put the encounter out of my head, but later that afternoon I got a text from an unknown number. It was a photo message.
The photo was taken in a bathroom mirror speckled with flecks of toothpaste and grime. It showed a rhino wide torso, soft belly coated in dark hair, leading down to a big hairy unkempt bush, and a truly huge hard, red cock. I recognized the tattooed paragraph of text on his right flank, half of some famous quote. At the bottom of the photo two stocky thighs spread, and a pair of big balls, held tightly in a furry crimson sack that was pulled up against the bottom of the massive boner. A green and black tattoo of a snake coiled around the bottom of the sender’s right thigh. But the cock was of course the focal point of the photo, standing up rigidly at an angle, grazing well past the man’s belly button.
The cock. It looked beer can thick, the tightly stretched scarlet skin wreathed in swirling purple and blue veins. It was crowned by a big head. Bellend. That’s what Brits called the glans. It looked like a bell, big, wide, and heavy.
I blushed. My face was warm and my vision blurred. It felt so strange to receive a dick pic. I felt violated. Sickened almost. It felt like an insult to my own manhood, to have this appearing on my phone without any warning. Is this how chicks feel when guys send them unsolicited dick pics? I could see that the sender was typing a message.
“You seemed to like what you saw in the showers. Figured I’d give you something to drool over.”
I began to compose a response in my head, restarting several times, when I got a second message.
“Jerk off material while you ride your dildos lol” Followed by three eggplant emojis.
“I know you like it buttboy.” Another text teased.
Another photo inserted itself into the message thread. This one was taken at an angle, held up by his chubby finger. It showed off how thick and long his rod was. It looked even more impressive in this shot, like he was holding up a thick dagger from his groin, or a police baton.
“For comparison.” The third photo was from top down, so I could see Duff’s hairy feet. He needed to clip his toe nails. In his hand he held a bottle, pressed just below his fuzzy belly. But his rampant hard was much longer than the Heineken, and almost as thick as the bottle’s wide body . My heart was pounding in my chest. Duff was massive. Another message was being drafted.
“It’s big right?” His text insisted.
I decided not to respond to him, not engage. Why would he send these to me?
“Certainly bigger than this little thing.” Another text followed by a laughing emoji.
My stomach dropped. It was a photo of me from at least a year ago. I was sitting on Kara’s bed, my head thrown back drinking a beer, my eyes slightly red from a long night of partying but fully recognizable. I was completely naked. From between my legs my hard penis emerged, topped by a trimmed, light-colored bush. It was a bad angle and I was in a bad position for a dick pic, with my legs closer canlı poker oyna to the frame and my hips sunk back. My hand holding the bottle which clearly dwarfed my boner.
My cock looked small, no two ways about it. Small and thin too, but unmistakably hard. A little pink and red pencil.
It was the worst possible representation of my manhood. Kara must have shared it with Duff. That bitch. I thought to myself.
“Don’t worry I think it’s cute. No wonder you’re such a pussy with a little pecker like that.” Another emoji, laughing to the point of tears.
“And no wonder you’re so curious about my big man cock.” This time he had the “thinking” emoji.
“See you soon, Dougie.” He signed off with a kissy face.
–
That night I went out to my usual bar. I had just ordered another beer when I received a text that the friends I was meeting were gathering instead at a place a few blocks away. I decided to down this last one then head out.
As the bartender handed me my pint, a large, solid body sidled up next to me, pushing me back into the bar. It splashed on my wrist. My unseen aggressor slapped me on the back like we were friends, jostling me and causing me to spill more of my beer.
“Hey Dougie, on the prowl for some cock?” A deep voice asked in too loud a voice. The heavily tattooed bartender raised his eyes at me and I just meekly asked him to settle up my tab. He nodded with a smirk.
“Go annoy someone else.” I said, avoiding eye contact as I felt Duff beside me, his strong breath in my ear.
“Yeah, I bet you’d get on your knees and suck me off in the alley if I let you.” He mused, his voice rich with amusement.
“Hey speaking of cocks, how’s your little toy doing?” Duff turned his body towards me, eying my crotch and elbowing at my side.
I ignored him, waiting for the bartender to close out my card. He leaned his body over the bar, forcing me to see him, to give him my attention.
“What’s it like, having such a little dick?” He asked with genuine curiosity. The bartender looked up from the machine and openly laughed this time, shaking his head.
“Must fucking suck. It’s fucking small, bro. Kara showed me other pictures. Videos too. I’ve seen it all bro.” The ox patted my shoulder in mock consolation.
He leaned in close, lips brushing my ear, whispering wetly.
“It’s like a little boy’s, bro. Like a little boy’s penis. You don’t even look like a fully grown man, bro.” I shoved him away from me but he fell back into me instantly, bumping his crotch into me. I could feel it, the sizable contents of his jeans and underwear pressing against my hip, his bounty pushing into me. I couldn’t get the big man away from me without making a scene. His breath reeked of booze as he continued his half-hushed tirade into my face.
“Of course she couldn’t feel a thing, whenever you put your little pecker inside her. She told me. Always had to fake it. Sucks for you, bro.” His lips smacked against my ear lobe as he taunted me.
“Hey, seriously, was she your first? Your first lay? She said you fucked like a virgin. Like real inexperienced, unconfident. She said it felt like being with a teenager. Like you didn’t know what you were doing at all.” He asked, a tone of mock concern in his voice, then humping his hips forward jerkily to imitate me, belittling my sexual prowess.
Once I closed my tab I stomped off, but Duff quickly found me, corralling me into a dark corner of the room. His big body closed me up against the wall and he stuck a glass in my hand.
“Here. I owe you a shot at least.” I hesitated.
“Come on, just because you’ve got a baby idck doesn’t mean you gotta be a pussy, drink.” He insisted. I looked him straight in the eye and downed the shot.
“Thanks. Now leave me alone.” I tried to push past him but his body was immovable. He drank his own shot and then clasped his hands against my sides, locking me in.
“Come on, Dougie. I just want to be friends.” His voice had a teasing sweetness. His hands remained in place, holding me. This all felt so strange. I hadn’t ever been treated like this, by anyone. The big man was mocking me, clearly, but also it felt like he was flirting with me. Bullying while coming on to me. It made me feel kind of sick, and angry too.
“Wil you just fuck off, you psycho?” I struggled to escape his grasp.
“How about I tell everyone that you were Kara’s bend-over boyfriend? Or better yet, show ’em?” My tough expression dropped from my face as I looked at him dumb-founded.
He put his big heavy arm over my shoulder, pulling me against him, and played a video off his phone. It was of me. Like the photo I was on Kara’s bed. But now I was on my back, legs spread wide open. My naked body shook with each thrust, half hard penis jiggling as a bright purple phallus penetrated me. I was covered in sweat and my face was twisted up with stimulation, lips quivering, eyes wrenched shut. From behind the camera you could hear Kara asking internet casino me if it was good. And the sound of my gratified moans of delight made my face go even redder in embarrassment.
“Looks like you sure liked Kara’s plastic prick. But I know your little pussy’s hungry for the real thing.” He smirked at me and shook his crotch suggestively. His right hand, still clasping my shoulder, had been rubbing it, massaging it. This big crazy brute really was trying to seduce me.
“My place is right around the corner. We’ll have some drinks, smoke a little pot. Get you nice and loose and then I’ll have you on your back with your legs spread in no time. I’ll go slow, be gentle. I’ll make it real nice, baby.” He cooed into my ear. His big warm body was pressed up against mine, his left hand rubbing my stomach over my shirt. Roger Duffman was feeling me up.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, homo.” I spat out angrily, shaking him off of me. He just laughed, and I continued, raising my voice.
“Get it through your head. You’re a fat, ugly loser. Kara’s probably the hottest chick you’ve ever been with, and she just used you as a rebound after I dumped her. I don’t know why you’re obsessed with me but you need help. No one cares if you have a big dick. Any chick would be embarrassed to be seen with you. You’re a sad, fat, ugly loser.” At the end of my rant I realized my heart was beating so hard in my chest I could feel it. He stared at me coldly for a moment, and then that dangerous smile returned to his face.
“Fair enough. Then be a fucking man and fight me.” He challenged me in an unnervingly cheery tone. I looked at him in confusion, then past his shoulders, seeing if I could make my escape. I really didn’t want to be close to this guy anymore.
“See Dougie, I know people. And I know that you, my friend, either need a dicking down or a beatdown. It’s your choice, boy. But either way I’m the MAN who’s gonna do it to you.” He smiled at me as he jabbed his finger into my chest, pushing me back against the wall.
“You’re out of your mind.” I looked around the bar nervously. Earlier I had been relieved that my friends hadn’t made it to the bar, hadn’t overheard Duff ragging me about my dick size. But I could have used them now. They were bigger than me, as big as Duff. He stepped closer, scowling at me, and as I felt the brick wall against my back I suddenly felt much smaller than I was used to feeling.
“It’s simple. We fight. No holds barred. First one to cry uncle or get knocked out admits he’s bitch. If you beat me, I promise I’ll leave you alone. I’ll delete the video and pics.” He crossed his thick, hairy arms over his barrel chest, smirking at me, his legs planted wide in a power pose.
“Puss out and everyone sees Dougie the Back Door Boyfriend. And I mean everyone. Friends, alumnus. Your old coaches. Social media. I’ll send this shit to your Daddy, bro. I don’t give a fuck.” He threatened with a wicked half-smile on his face, and I felt a rush of adrenaline. Fight or flight.
I looked at him. He was bigger than me overall, but he was fat, out of shape. I took in the extra weight around his sides, his belly. He had let himself go since college, that was for sure. I had more muscle definition and could outlast him for sure, tire him out. One or two punches to his fat gut would bring him to his knees. I had taken down guys bigger than him before. I could teach him to try to fuck with me.
“Fine. But by the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be even uglier, Duffman.” He chuckled at my bluster. I downed my beer, fourth of the night, and with liquid courage I stepped out of the bar. Duff led me into the alley beside it. Further down in the alley past were a couple of younger guys smoking. Duff widened his stance and crossed his arms, grinning at me smugly.
“Now I’m feeling generous. I’ll let you take the first shot, boy.” He punctuated the last word loudly. When I hesitated he chuckled, and I heard him snort loudly before he spat a wad of thick phlegm at my face. The bastard had hocked a loogie right into my eye. It was wet and warm, oozing down around my nose. I heard shocked laughter from the guys smoking a cigarette.
Partially blinded, I took a swing at him. My fist collided with the side of his rocky, pockmarked face. He was surprised, pushed back a bit, but I saw him smirk as he stomped towards me. I tried to dodge and land another punch but he caught my wrist in his big right hand, twisting it painfully. The bastard grabbed me by my hair, clutching the back of my head. His thick wad of snot still ran down my face, his slime reaching my neck and collar.
“That was a pretty respectable punch, for a limp-writsted faggot.” I heard the rush of air and felt his big, hard open palm smack down across my cheek. He slapped me so hard that I was seeing stars and stumbling a bit. He then shook his finger in my face like a father chiding his son.
“But here’s what’s going to happen, Dougie. I’m going to kick your fucking ass, and I’m not even going to punch you. No.” Another forceful smack across my face wrenched my neck and almost knocked me to the ground. More astonished laughter from the smokers. Duff seized the collar of my shirt to keep me upright.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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