Bed Time Story
buckyduckman wrote me a story. It's all fictional, but I enjoyed reading it.
Less Then Perfect (lessthenperfect) wrote in adult_fiction,
@ 2003-09-15 21:13:00
I don't have a father. He left after I was born. (Angry thoughts here) If I did have one, my fantasy is that he and his friends would gang bang me. Could someone write a story about that?
More infor about me behind the cut.
Mis. Info About Me:
Age: 18 (but I don't have to be in the story)
Sexuality: Gay Male
Well, technically, in the story, you do need to be 18 or older....
I'm not really into incest stories, personally, but I'm intrigued with the idea of trying to write a gay-gang-bang scene.... so, let me give a shot and see what happens. (On another level... IF your father DID stay around and THIS did happen to you... you do realized you'd probably be just as fucked up, don't you?)
My dad was a large man and ruled our house with an iron fist. If there was something I learned quickly as a child, when it came to dad, the answer was always "yes sir." It didn't matter if he was right, wrong, or otherwise. It didn't help that once I hit the ninth grade, I stopped growing. High school added a single inch to my height, bringing me to a less that imposing height of 5' 6". I know dad didn't approve. In his mind, his wife had given birth to a runt. To make up for it, he did everything he could to toughen me up.
The whippings I received at his hand were legendary to me. The slightest infraction would prompt him to pull me over his knees with one hand while he jerked down my pants with the other hand. Bare-assed, he start to spank me. No amount of crying on my part (or my mother's) would get him to stop. He only stopped when he was done, not a moment sooner.
Oddly, I never resented his harsh ways. He was strict, but well meaning. I know I was a disappointment to him. I wasn't tall enough for basketball, too slow for track, and too slight of stature for football. My only saving grace were my grades.
The older I got, the more I realized I had another reason to disappoint him. I wasn't attracted to women. Oh, I tried to be. Hell, he did everything he could to get me interested in women. He'd leave copies of "Playboy" in my room, surely hoping I would jerk-off to them. And I did, though not in the way he wanted me to. Instead of looking at the women featured in the centerfolds, I was much more interested in the guys they showed in the ads for everything from underwear to after shave to penis enlargements.
I didn't need anyone to tell me to hide my sexual identity from my father, somehow, instinctually, I just knew it wasn't a good idea. So, I hid my true self, even going so far as to bring home lesbian friends of mine who were more than willing to masqurade as "girlfriends." I fooled him, and kept him fooled until my eighteenth birthday.
My boyfriend's name was Josh. To my family, Josh was nothing more than my bestfriend, but trust me, he was much, much more. The only time I felt normal was when I was making out with Josh. The only time I felt complete as a person was when he was deep inside my asshole. God, I loved Josh! Maybe too much.
Josh hated my father. He was always telling me how I needed to stand up to him, to tell him off, just one. "He's a bully," Josh would tell me. "Just back him down, just once, that's all it'll take."
"But you don't understand," I'd say, remembering the years of spankings and tough love. My dad had his own way of dealing with things. The first time he caught me smoking a cigarette, he went to the store, bought a carton of non-filtered Lucky Strikes, and forced me to chain smoke them until I was puking my guts out. (To this day, I'm allergic to cigarette smoke.) The first time he caught me drinking, he did the same thing with a bottle of vodka, forcing me to drink straight shots until I puked. "There, now you know what it's like to be drunk," he said, then he added the part I couldn't guess. "And this isn't the worse part. The worse part will be tomorrow morning when I wake up." That's when I learned the joys of a hang-over. As soon as the sun came up the next morning, he had me out of bed doing yard work. The sound of the lawn mower ripped into my aching head like a squirrel trying to scratch its way out of a cardboard box. Honestly, I don't know how I lived through some of his lessons.
As one failed attempt to turn me into a man, shortly after my eighteenth birthday, he planned a hunting trip. "Pick one buddy to take with you," he said. Of course, I picked Josh.
After three days and two nights in the woods with my dad and four of his hunting buddies, the nearest thing I could tell was that "going hunting" was just an excuse to head off into the woods to camp, drink beer, and shoot guns. It was right around dusk on the third day that Josh and I saw a chance to slip away from the rest of the group for a bit. As soon as we were away from the camp, we were on each other, kissing and groping each other like two bitches in heat. "I want you in my mouth," I said, slipping down to my knees, pulling open his pants, and starting to suck him off.
Not being very wise to the woods, it never occurred to me that someone could sneak up on us. Next thing I know, I hear my father's voice right over my shoulder. "A fucking fag," he said. "I raised a fucking fag." He shook his head, then spoke to Josh. "If you head that way, right into the setting sun, you'll find highway 19. If you hurry, you can get there before it gets dark."
"Wha-what?" Josh asked, confused.
"No what about it, fag," my dad said, a deep, low thunder inside his voice. "You come back into my camp, and I'll skin your fairy ass alive for turning my son into a fag. And if you think I'm going to give you a ride back into town, you got another thing coming. Get the fuck out."
Wisely, Josh turned and started walking. He looked over shoulder once, and when he did, my dad fired his weapon into the air. "Faster fag!" Josh took off running.
I was still on my knees, too afraid to move. My dad looked at me in disgust. "A fucking, cocksucking fag. I can't fucking believe it," he said, shaking his head. "Well, get up, boy. It's time you learn your lesson."
Standing up, I followed him back to camp, wondering what he meant. There only time he ever said, 'time to learn your lesson' was when he was planning on punishing me. I was too old to spank. And it wasn't like when he caught me smoking cigarettes or drinking. I never realized how wrong I could be.
When we reached the clearing where the campfire was set-up, the other four guys were already deep into their beers and bullshit stories. Dad hesitated long enough for me to catch up, then he shoved me into the circle. "You're one boy shy," Big Joe-Joe said to my dad. Big Joe-Joe wasn't as big as my dad, be he was large. I don't know why they called him that, never really cared. It seemed like everyone had their own pet name.
"Got bad news," dad said. "That other boy got lost in the woods."
"Shit," Mac said, standing like he was ready to be a one man search party.
"Sit the hell down, Mac," my dad said. "Right before he got lost, I pointed him to the highway. That was right after I found this fag sucking him off." He shoved me, hard.
"Whatcha sayin'?" Indian Greg wanted to know.
"I'm saying my son is a goddamn cocksucking fag."
There was a moment of silence while the news sunk in. Leroy, who clearly was not the sharpest tool in the shed, broke the slience first. "You mean like that Elmer guy who came out here that one time." He laughed. "Man, remember that?"
"Eldon, not Elmer," Mac corrected him. "And shut the fuck up about that. We're talking about Larry's son."
"No," dad said, cutting in. "That's exactly what I mean. Can't see why it should be any different this time. A fag's a fag, y'know?" Moving closer to me, he turned me around to face him. "Son, I want you to understand there's only two things that can happen right now, and you have your choice. It's the last lesson I guess I can give you. If you want to be a fag, then be a fag. But I'm going to make damn sure you know what it's like to be treated like a fag."
"Yes sir," I said, working on autopilot.
"Here's your choices. The five of us kick your ass within an inch of your life, or, you get naked and we each have our way with you."
I looked around the circle at the other four men, all lifelong pals of my dad's. My dad was clearly the biggest of the, and probaby the meanest, but that wasn't saying much. I didn't stand a prayer against any one of them. "I guess there's only choice then," I said, and I started pulling off my clothes.
Shaking his head, my dad turned away from me. "Okay guys, who wants to go first?"
"Geez, Larry, you sure?" Big Joe-Joe asked while I got naked. Truth be told, I had no idea what was going to happen and I was more afraid of getting a mosquito bite on my dick than anything else. Hell, to tell the absolute truth, getting naked out in the open like that felt kinda good.
"Fag's a fag," he said again. "Go for it."
"Hey sissy, sissy, sissy-boy!" Leroy said, sounding like he was calling the hogs or something. "C'mon over here, sweetcheeks."
I looked over my shoulder at my dad, but he didn't say or do anything. He just sat back down in the folding chair he had brought, popped the top on another beer, and stared at me.
"You're being called, sweetcheeks," Mac said, slapping my bare ass and pushing me in the direction of Leroy, who was standing up and taking off his belt. I stumbled towards him, afraid of what he was going to do with that belt. As it turned out, I guessed wrong. All he did with the belt was set it on the ground next to him. Then he tugged open his pants, reached inside, and fished out his half-hard cock.
"Blow me, fag. And you better do it good, or I'll pick that belt back up."
Again, I looked over my shoulder at my father, but he just sat there, watching. Indian Greg was sitting right next to Leroy. He picked up the belt and swung it against my ass. "Maybe you don't hear too good, fag-boy," he said. The belt hurt. I didn't know what else to do, so I knelt down in front of Leroy and opened my mouth. His cock tasted salty from three days of sweat. But as soon as my lips touched him, I felt it begin to get hard.
"That's it, fag. Suck it like a bitch," Leroy said, pulling off his shirt while he watched me.
"Look, he's getting hard, too," Indian Greg pointed out. He was right, too. In spite of being scared shitless, my cock was hard. Leroy's cock might have tasted a little sour at first, but that taste was soon washed away with my spit. When he got hard, his cock was big, too. Not as big as Josh's but big enough to be more than a mouthful. I devoted myself to the job I was doing, too afraid of getting another swat with the belt or worse. I guess when he saw that I wasn't going to stop, that was good enough for him. Indian Greg dropped the belt, then stood and started getting naked, too. "Don't forget this one," he said, stroking his cock to life.
I got even harder. Suddenly, my cock sucking opportunities had doubled. I grabbed Indian Greg's cock for him, massaging him while I sucked Leroy. When Greg moved close enough, I swapped, then swapped back. "Make me come, bitch," Leroy said, pushing my head down on his cock. I gagged for a moment, then got things back under control. Without warning, he came, spewing his cumshot inside my mouth. I drank it down while Leroy hooted like a man possessed. With his down, I devoted myself to Indian Greg's cock.
"You guys come and get some this," Greg said to the others.
"Nah, let him finish you first, then send him over," Mac said.
"Shit, okay," the Indian said. "It ain't gonna take long. He's twice as good as Eldon ever was."
"As good as your wife?" Big Joe-Joe asked.
"Hell, he's even better than your wife," the Indian quipped. He grabbed my head and started fucking my mouth, grunting. A few moments later, he was coming, too. Pulling out when he was done, he pointed me in Mac's direction. "I'll have more for you in a bit," he said, slapping my ass as I walked away.
I stood in front of Mac not knowing what else to do. My cock was hard and throbbing, and Mac was staring at it. "Fuck fag dick," Mac said, reaching out and grabbing my balls. "You're getting off on this, aren't you? You like it when a real man grabs your nuts?"
"Yes sir," I said, and I meant it.
"Jerk off for me, fag. But don't you dare come, or I'll twist these balls right off." I did as he told me, stroking my meat carefully. It was sweet torture. My cock thrived on the attention. His warm hand on my balls made it all the better. But I believed him when he told me he'd twist them off if I came. I tried stopped, but when I slowed down, he squeezed my balls hard enough to hurt. "I didn't say stop, did I?"
"Man, you're one bad ass," Big Joe-Joe said, watching.
"You gonna let him suck you off?"
"Nah, I got other plans," the big man said, standing up and pulling off his clothes. "I'm going to butt fuck him while he sucks YOU off." He shoved his cock in my face and said, "better wet it down first, because we ain't got lubricant." He let me suck him for a few moments while Mac opened his fly and pulled out his cock. He just pulled it out, without even taking off his pants.
"Go to town, sissy-boy," Mac said.
I bent over and started sucking Mac while Big Joe-Joe worked away around behind me. I had learned why they called him big. He easily had the biggest cock in the group, and he was about to stick it up my ass. "Better spread them cheeks, boy," Joe-Joe said from behind me, slapping asshole with his big rod. I did as I was told, holding myself open for him as wide as I could. He spit on my asshole twice, and that was all the lubricant he offered me.
"Now don't go fucking it up for the rest of us," Indian Greg said from the other side of the campfire.
"Hell, it ain't my fault if I'm the only man here," Joe-Joe said, then he started trying to shove that thick root of a cock up my ass. At first, nothing happened. "I know you ain't no virgin," he said, pushing harder. I forced myself to relax, and slowly, my asshole gave way to him, accepting him.
"Damn, he is good," Mac said, watching me suck his cock. He was still holding his beer and he kept on sipping at it while I sucked him.
"I love fag ass," Big Joe-Joe said, swatting my ass. "It's small enough to be a damn woman's ass." He pulled out of me, then forced his way back in. Just as I got used to him again, he'd pull back out and do it all over again. This went on for more times than I could count. Mac came inside my mouth, but Joe-Joe was still fucking me.
"Hurry up, man. I don't need this fag anymore," Mac complained after he had shot his wad.
"Almost there," Joe-Joe said, grabbing my hips and driving his way deeper inside of me. I felt like he was going to rip me in two, and I didn't care. Finally, I felt him come, pumping me full with a semen enema.
For the better part of the next three hours, the four men kept passing me back and forth between them. I licked and sucked them. I bent over and let them fuck my asshole. I begged when they asked me to beg. I played with myself when they asked me to play with myself. I even fingered my own asshole for them. Truthfully, I couldn't figure what was making them different from me, except they never did a thing for me. Every now and then, one of them would ask my dad if wanted some, and he would just shake his head. He sat there, drinking beer after beer, and watched. At one point, they had me crawling around the campfire while they took turns spanking me everytime I crawled in front of them. I was on constant display for their pleasure, nothing more than their boy-bitch.
Finally, my dad stood up. I watched as he stepped out of his pants. He stroked his cock a couple of time, bringing it completely to life. "Fucking sissy-boy, fag," he said, looking at me. "Turn around." I did as I was told. He pushed me over, not even allowing me anything to hold on to, so I put my hands on my knees and shoved my ass at him. I was tender and sore from all the fucking I had done, but didn't care. My dad shoved his cock inside my asshole. He started fucking me, cursing the entire time: "Fucking sissy boy, fag... cocksucker... queer... fairy..." He called me every queer oriented name he could think of, and then repeated the list over and over while he fucked me. His cock filled me as surely as his words filled my ears. Arching my back just a bit, I was able to reangle his thrusts so they were stroking my prostrate. Suddenly, any pain I had felt dropped away. While he fucked and cursed me, I looked at the other four big men standing around with their now limp dicks hanging from their bodies. There were only two more orgasms to go, my dad's and mine. And whether they meant for it to happen or not, I was going to get mine.
"Fuck you," dad said, driving deeper into me. "Fucking FAG!" Then his words faded as his natural instincts took over. He was close to coming, and so was I. One last adjustment, and I was fucking him back. He was too far gone to comment on it. Then I felt his cock twitch and start throbbing inside of me. As his orgasm began, I let go of my own, shooting the biggest cumshot of my life all over the forest floor. And in that moment, I finally claimed for my own the one thing my father had tried his hardest to give me, my own sense of what being a man would mean to me. He was right. I was fag, a complete, light in the loafers, cocksucking, assfucking, three-dollar-bill fairy. And I had the first anal orgasm of my life, which I think made him as much of a fag as me.
One by one, the guys all passed out from too much sex and beer. As soon as the last one dropped off into a noisy slumber, I got dressed and waited for the sun to come up. Finding my way to the highway was easy, all I had to do was keep the sun at my back.
The end.
Less Then Perfect (lessthenperfect) wrote in adult_fiction,
@ 2003-09-15 21:13:00
I don't have a father. He left after I was born. (Angry thoughts here) If I did have one, my fantasy is that he and his friends would gang bang me. Could someone write a story about that?
More infor about me behind the cut.
Mis. Info About Me:
Age: 18 (but I don't have to be in the story)
Sexuality: Gay Male
Well, technically, in the story, you do need to be 18 or older....
I'm not really into incest stories, personally, but I'm intrigued with the idea of trying to write a gay-gang-bang scene.... so, let me give a shot and see what happens. (On another level... IF your father DID stay around and THIS did happen to you... you do realized you'd probably be just as fucked up, don't you?)
My dad was a large man and ruled our house with an iron fist. If there was something I learned quickly as a child, when it came to dad, the answer was always "yes sir." It didn't matter if he was right, wrong, or otherwise. It didn't help that once I hit the ninth grade, I stopped growing. High school added a single inch to my height, bringing me to a less that imposing height of 5' 6". I know dad didn't approve. In his mind, his wife had given birth to a runt. To make up for it, he did everything he could to toughen me up.
The whippings I received at his hand were legendary to me. The slightest infraction would prompt him to pull me over his knees with one hand while he jerked down my pants with the other hand. Bare-assed, he start to spank me. No amount of crying on my part (or my mother's) would get him to stop. He only stopped when he was done, not a moment sooner.
Oddly, I never resented his harsh ways. He was strict, but well meaning. I know I was a disappointment to him. I wasn't tall enough for basketball, too slow for track, and too slight of stature for football. My only saving grace were my grades.
The older I got, the more I realized I had another reason to disappoint him. I wasn't attracted to women. Oh, I tried to be. Hell, he did everything he could to get me interested in women. He'd leave copies of "Playboy" in my room, surely hoping I would jerk-off to them. And I did, though not in the way he wanted me to. Instead of looking at the women featured in the centerfolds, I was much more interested in the guys they showed in the ads for everything from underwear to after shave to penis enlargements.
I didn't need anyone to tell me to hide my sexual identity from my father, somehow, instinctually, I just knew it wasn't a good idea. So, I hid my true self, even going so far as to bring home lesbian friends of mine who were more than willing to masqurade as "girlfriends." I fooled him, and kept him fooled until my eighteenth birthday.
My boyfriend's name was Josh. To my family, Josh was nothing more than my bestfriend, but trust me, he was much, much more. The only time I felt normal was when I was making out with Josh. The only time I felt complete as a person was when he was deep inside my asshole. God, I loved Josh! Maybe too much.
Josh hated my father. He was always telling me how I needed to stand up to him, to tell him off, just one. "He's a bully," Josh would tell me. "Just back him down, just once, that's all it'll take."
"But you don't understand," I'd say, remembering the years of spankings and tough love. My dad had his own way of dealing with things. The first time he caught me smoking a cigarette, he went to the store, bought a carton of non-filtered Lucky Strikes, and forced me to chain smoke them until I was puking my guts out. (To this day, I'm allergic to cigarette smoke.) The first time he caught me drinking, he did the same thing with a bottle of vodka, forcing me to drink straight shots until I puked. "There, now you know what it's like to be drunk," he said, then he added the part I couldn't guess. "And this isn't the worse part. The worse part will be tomorrow morning when I wake up." That's when I learned the joys of a hang-over. As soon as the sun came up the next morning, he had me out of bed doing yard work. The sound of the lawn mower ripped into my aching head like a squirrel trying to scratch its way out of a cardboard box. Honestly, I don't know how I lived through some of his lessons.
As one failed attempt to turn me into a man, shortly after my eighteenth birthday, he planned a hunting trip. "Pick one buddy to take with you," he said. Of course, I picked Josh.
After three days and two nights in the woods with my dad and four of his hunting buddies, the nearest thing I could tell was that "going hunting" was just an excuse to head off into the woods to camp, drink beer, and shoot guns. It was right around dusk on the third day that Josh and I saw a chance to slip away from the rest of the group for a bit. As soon as we were away from the camp, we were on each other, kissing and groping each other like two bitches in heat. "I want you in my mouth," I said, slipping down to my knees, pulling open his pants, and starting to suck him off.
Not being very wise to the woods, it never occurred to me that someone could sneak up on us. Next thing I know, I hear my father's voice right over my shoulder. "A fucking fag," he said. "I raised a fucking fag." He shook his head, then spoke to Josh. "If you head that way, right into the setting sun, you'll find highway 19. If you hurry, you can get there before it gets dark."
"Wha-what?" Josh asked, confused.
"No what about it, fag," my dad said, a deep, low thunder inside his voice. "You come back into my camp, and I'll skin your fairy ass alive for turning my son into a fag. And if you think I'm going to give you a ride back into town, you got another thing coming. Get the fuck out."
Wisely, Josh turned and started walking. He looked over shoulder once, and when he did, my dad fired his weapon into the air. "Faster fag!" Josh took off running.
I was still on my knees, too afraid to move. My dad looked at me in disgust. "A fucking, cocksucking fag. I can't fucking believe it," he said, shaking his head. "Well, get up, boy. It's time you learn your lesson."
Standing up, I followed him back to camp, wondering what he meant. There only time he ever said, 'time to learn your lesson' was when he was planning on punishing me. I was too old to spank. And it wasn't like when he caught me smoking cigarettes or drinking. I never realized how wrong I could be.
When we reached the clearing where the campfire was set-up, the other four guys were already deep into their beers and bullshit stories. Dad hesitated long enough for me to catch up, then he shoved me into the circle. "You're one boy shy," Big Joe-Joe said to my dad. Big Joe-Joe wasn't as big as my dad, be he was large. I don't know why they called him that, never really cared. It seemed like everyone had their own pet name.
"Got bad news," dad said. "That other boy got lost in the woods."
"Shit," Mac said, standing like he was ready to be a one man search party.
"Sit the hell down, Mac," my dad said. "Right before he got lost, I pointed him to the highway. That was right after I found this fag sucking him off." He shoved me, hard.
"Whatcha sayin'?" Indian Greg wanted to know.
"I'm saying my son is a goddamn cocksucking fag."
There was a moment of silence while the news sunk in. Leroy, who clearly was not the sharpest tool in the shed, broke the slience first. "You mean like that Elmer guy who came out here that one time." He laughed. "Man, remember that?"
"Eldon, not Elmer," Mac corrected him. "And shut the fuck up about that. We're talking about Larry's son."
"No," dad said, cutting in. "That's exactly what I mean. Can't see why it should be any different this time. A fag's a fag, y'know?" Moving closer to me, he turned me around to face him. "Son, I want you to understand there's only two things that can happen right now, and you have your choice. It's the last lesson I guess I can give you. If you want to be a fag, then be a fag. But I'm going to make damn sure you know what it's like to be treated like a fag."
"Yes sir," I said, working on autopilot.
"Here's your choices. The five of us kick your ass within an inch of your life, or, you get naked and we each have our way with you."
I looked around the circle at the other four men, all lifelong pals of my dad's. My dad was clearly the biggest of the, and probaby the meanest, but that wasn't saying much. I didn't stand a prayer against any one of them. "I guess there's only choice then," I said, and I started pulling off my clothes.
Shaking his head, my dad turned away from me. "Okay guys, who wants to go first?"
"Geez, Larry, you sure?" Big Joe-Joe asked while I got naked. Truth be told, I had no idea what was going to happen and I was more afraid of getting a mosquito bite on my dick than anything else. Hell, to tell the absolute truth, getting naked out in the open like that felt kinda good.
"Fag's a fag," he said again. "Go for it."
"Hey sissy, sissy, sissy-boy!" Leroy said, sounding like he was calling the hogs or something. "C'mon over here, sweetcheeks."
I looked over my shoulder at my dad, but he didn't say or do anything. He just sat back down in the folding chair he had brought, popped the top on another beer, and stared at me.
"You're being called, sweetcheeks," Mac said, slapping my bare ass and pushing me in the direction of Leroy, who was standing up and taking off his belt. I stumbled towards him, afraid of what he was going to do with that belt. As it turned out, I guessed wrong. All he did with the belt was set it on the ground next to him. Then he tugged open his pants, reached inside, and fished out his half-hard cock.
"Blow me, fag. And you better do it good, or I'll pick that belt back up."
Again, I looked over my shoulder at my father, but he just sat there, watching. Indian Greg was sitting right next to Leroy. He picked up the belt and swung it against my ass. "Maybe you don't hear too good, fag-boy," he said. The belt hurt. I didn't know what else to do, so I knelt down in front of Leroy and opened my mouth. His cock tasted salty from three days of sweat. But as soon as my lips touched him, I felt it begin to get hard.
"That's it, fag. Suck it like a bitch," Leroy said, pulling off his shirt while he watched me.
"Look, he's getting hard, too," Indian Greg pointed out. He was right, too. In spite of being scared shitless, my cock was hard. Leroy's cock might have tasted a little sour at first, but that taste was soon washed away with my spit. When he got hard, his cock was big, too. Not as big as Josh's but big enough to be more than a mouthful. I devoted myself to the job I was doing, too afraid of getting another swat with the belt or worse. I guess when he saw that I wasn't going to stop, that was good enough for him. Indian Greg dropped the belt, then stood and started getting naked, too. "Don't forget this one," he said, stroking his cock to life.
I got even harder. Suddenly, my cock sucking opportunities had doubled. I grabbed Indian Greg's cock for him, massaging him while I sucked Leroy. When Greg moved close enough, I swapped, then swapped back. "Make me come, bitch," Leroy said, pushing my head down on his cock. I gagged for a moment, then got things back under control. Without warning, he came, spewing his cumshot inside my mouth. I drank it down while Leroy hooted like a man possessed. With his down, I devoted myself to Indian Greg's cock.
"You guys come and get some this," Greg said to the others.
"Nah, let him finish you first, then send him over," Mac said.
"Shit, okay," the Indian said. "It ain't gonna take long. He's twice as good as Eldon ever was."
"As good as your wife?" Big Joe-Joe asked.
"Hell, he's even better than your wife," the Indian quipped. He grabbed my head and started fucking my mouth, grunting. A few moments later, he was coming, too. Pulling out when he was done, he pointed me in Mac's direction. "I'll have more for you in a bit," he said, slapping my ass as I walked away.
I stood in front of Mac not knowing what else to do. My cock was hard and throbbing, and Mac was staring at it. "Fuck fag dick," Mac said, reaching out and grabbing my balls. "You're getting off on this, aren't you? You like it when a real man grabs your nuts?"
"Yes sir," I said, and I meant it.
"Jerk off for me, fag. But don't you dare come, or I'll twist these balls right off." I did as he told me, stroking my meat carefully. It was sweet torture. My cock thrived on the attention. His warm hand on my balls made it all the better. But I believed him when he told me he'd twist them off if I came. I tried stopped, but when I slowed down, he squeezed my balls hard enough to hurt. "I didn't say stop, did I?"
"Man, you're one bad ass," Big Joe-Joe said, watching.
"You gonna let him suck you off?"
"Nah, I got other plans," the big man said, standing up and pulling off his clothes. "I'm going to butt fuck him while he sucks YOU off." He shoved his cock in my face and said, "better wet it down first, because we ain't got lubricant." He let me suck him for a few moments while Mac opened his fly and pulled out his cock. He just pulled it out, without even taking off his pants.
"Go to town, sissy-boy," Mac said.
I bent over and started sucking Mac while Big Joe-Joe worked away around behind me. I had learned why they called him big. He easily had the biggest cock in the group, and he was about to stick it up my ass. "Better spread them cheeks, boy," Joe-Joe said from behind me, slapping asshole with his big rod. I did as I was told, holding myself open for him as wide as I could. He spit on my asshole twice, and that was all the lubricant he offered me.
"Now don't go fucking it up for the rest of us," Indian Greg said from the other side of the campfire.
"Hell, it ain't my fault if I'm the only man here," Joe-Joe said, then he started trying to shove that thick root of a cock up my ass. At first, nothing happened. "I know you ain't no virgin," he said, pushing harder. I forced myself to relax, and slowly, my asshole gave way to him, accepting him.
"Damn, he is good," Mac said, watching me suck his cock. He was still holding his beer and he kept on sipping at it while I sucked him.
"I love fag ass," Big Joe-Joe said, swatting my ass. "It's small enough to be a damn woman's ass." He pulled out of me, then forced his way back in. Just as I got used to him again, he'd pull back out and do it all over again. This went on for more times than I could count. Mac came inside my mouth, but Joe-Joe was still fucking me.
"Hurry up, man. I don't need this fag anymore," Mac complained after he had shot his wad.
"Almost there," Joe-Joe said, grabbing my hips and driving his way deeper inside of me. I felt like he was going to rip me in two, and I didn't care. Finally, I felt him come, pumping me full with a semen enema.
For the better part of the next three hours, the four men kept passing me back and forth between them. I licked and sucked them. I bent over and let them fuck my asshole. I begged when they asked me to beg. I played with myself when they asked me to play with myself. I even fingered my own asshole for them. Truthfully, I couldn't figure what was making them different from me, except they never did a thing for me. Every now and then, one of them would ask my dad if wanted some, and he would just shake his head. He sat there, drinking beer after beer, and watched. At one point, they had me crawling around the campfire while they took turns spanking me everytime I crawled in front of them. I was on constant display for their pleasure, nothing more than their boy-bitch.
Finally, my dad stood up. I watched as he stepped out of his pants. He stroked his cock a couple of time, bringing it completely to life. "Fucking sissy-boy, fag," he said, looking at me. "Turn around." I did as I was told. He pushed me over, not even allowing me anything to hold on to, so I put my hands on my knees and shoved my ass at him. I was tender and sore from all the fucking I had done, but didn't care. My dad shoved his cock inside my asshole. He started fucking me, cursing the entire time: "Fucking sissy boy, fag... cocksucker... queer... fairy..." He called me every queer oriented name he could think of, and then repeated the list over and over while he fucked me. His cock filled me as surely as his words filled my ears. Arching my back just a bit, I was able to reangle his thrusts so they were stroking my prostrate. Suddenly, any pain I had felt dropped away. While he fucked and cursed me, I looked at the other four big men standing around with their now limp dicks hanging from their bodies. There were only two more orgasms to go, my dad's and mine. And whether they meant for it to happen or not, I was going to get mine.
"Fuck you," dad said, driving deeper into me. "Fucking FAG!" Then his words faded as his natural instincts took over. He was close to coming, and so was I. One last adjustment, and I was fucking him back. He was too far gone to comment on it. Then I felt his cock twitch and start throbbing inside of me. As his orgasm began, I let go of my own, shooting the biggest cumshot of my life all over the forest floor. And in that moment, I finally claimed for my own the one thing my father had tried his hardest to give me, my own sense of what being a man would mean to me. He was right. I was fag, a complete, light in the loafers, cocksucking, assfucking, three-dollar-bill fairy. And I had the first anal orgasm of my life, which I think made him as much of a fag as me.
One by one, the guys all passed out from too much sex and beer. As soon as the last one dropped off into a noisy slumber, I got dressed and waited for the sun to come up. Finding my way to the highway was easy, all I had to do was keep the sun at my back.
The end.