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Message-ID: <35020asstr$1012605004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: khaan@speakeasy.org
Subject: {ASSM} NEW SHORT STORY! Taken (M/M)
Date: Fri,  1 Feb 2002 18:10:04 -0500
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This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit or placed within any
archive, pay site or web community without the express written permission of
the author.  The author may be contacted at khaan@speakeasy.org or via ICQ
#51761475 and more stories can be found at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Rob_Morton/www.

Copyright 2002, Robert B. Morton, II, all rights reserved.

Disclaimer

For those individuals not of legal age to read this where they live, shame
on you!  For those folks who may be offended by this writing, all I can say
is caveat lector--you have been warned.  The following is a work of fiction
and the usual statements about bearing any resemblance to people or places,
living or dead, being coincidental, etc., apply here.


Taken, by Rob Morton (M/M)

Large, strong hands holding my head still, a gentle reminder that resistance
was not only futile, but would be dealt with in the usual harsh manner.  A
collection of scents assail my senses, some pleasant, some not so pleasant
as the large, thick knob worms its way deeper into my throat, threatening to
choke the life out of me.

With the hands' grip on the side of my head blocking my ears, I can barely
hear the sounds of someone moaning - it could be me for all I know - I'm no
longer sure of anything except the crazy hard softness working itself into
my mouth...

What I do know is that I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be allowing this to
happen - and all the while knowing that I'd do it all again if given the
opportunity.

The hands tighten a little more around my head, making the skin under those
massive palms all wet and clammy while the fingers massage my jaw muscles
almost as an afterthought as yet more of Jerrod's cock inches its way into
my throat, increasing my anger at having been so weak again...

No, I'm not mad at Jerrod, the man with the soft, gently - but equally
strong hands and fingers.  I'm not even mad that he just took what he wanted
from me without asking, shoving his then flaccid member between my
unresisting lips until my nose was buried deeply in his thatch of pubic
hair.

What angers me is my reaction... or lack of, in some respects.  What I should
have done the moment all of this started was to say no, to turn my head away
from the lovely offering being forced upon me.  But, no, what did I do the
second his glans touched my lips?  Opened my mouth and welcomed his unwanted
invasion, my lips and tongue knowing just what to do to get him hard in my
mouth, just like the good little whore he expects me to be.

I'm angry with myself because now my hands are on his firm backside, guiding
him deeper into my mouth while my fingers knead the flesh of his ass
urgently.

I know I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this, and shouldn't be
enjoying the feel of his hardness bruising my throat as he begins to grow a
little longer and thicker.  But the sad truth is that I'm Jerrod's little
bitch, his punk whore and his to use in any way he chooses.  I know I could
- and should - say no to him and just walk away, just like I did one time
before... well, at least until he pulled his erection out and waved it at me
and, like the fool I am, I turned and went back, unable to resist and my
mouth watering for the taste and feel of him as I got to my knees and took
him once more into my mouth.

I can tell he's getting close; my mouth and throat really starts to hurt
because he's ramming his cock into my mouth just as hard and fast as he can
manage.  My own cock is a massive steel rod, trapped inside my pants, a
large spot of wetness spreading across the fabric as my own passions burn
hotly inside of me, passions that will, as always, go unfulfilled because
nothing is more important right now than getting ready to receive Jarrod's
sticky offering.

Jerrod's saying something but I can't hear him - don't need to, actually,
'cause I know what he's saying:  "Suck my cock, you whore, suck it, bitch,
eat my meat, slut; yeah, gonna juice you good, you little punk bitch..."

Oh, I just love it when he talks to me like that - but I hate it, too,
because I love it when he talks to me like that...

Oh, God, he coming now - I just felt the first bit of his spunk on my tongue
and here comes both the good and bad parts.  Good because he's filling my
mouth with his sperm and I love the taste of his jizz - so thick and creamy
and a little salty and, God, there's so much of it!

Bad because he's got his entire cock jammed into my throat, his hands
holding my head tightly against his crotch as his bone keeps upchucking down
my throat and into my stomach... and I have my hands on his ass, holding him
so tightly against my mouth that I know I'm leaving fingerprints in his
flesh...

I can't breathe at the moment because Jerrod is still pumping sperm into my
throat - where does he keep all of it? - I can feel the wispy fingers of
panic brushing against my skin as my own cock unloads itself into my pants
because I can't breathe, can't breathe, need to breathe...

Jerrod backs off just enough for me to draw in much-needed air in through my
flared nostrils before slamming his groin back against my face, the last
bits of his whey-like load sputtering into my mouth and sliding into my
stomach.  God, he tastes so fucking good!

Finally, Jerrod pulls his dick out of my mouth, his hands releasing my head
so I can move it in order to get the kinks out of my neck.  I open my eyes
and see his cock staring at me, all red and flushed with blood... and still
very much erect, which is another thing I love about Jerrod... and something
else I hate about him.

I'm barely aware of Jerrod clawing at my soiled pants, cursing at me to help
him to remove them; I guess I helped enough because there they go, sailing
across the room and landing who knows where.  No, Jerrod's not about to
return the favor, as it were, because, well, he doesn't do that.  He's
rolling me over onto my stomach and I can already feel his knob against my
puckered asshole, all wet and slick with saliva and his own seed.

Bright lights explode behind my clenched eyelids as Jerrod plows into my
rectum without any regard for what I may be feeling.  It doesn't hurt as
much as it used to because, obviously, he's been inside me so many times it
should be easy for him.  It still hurts a little, but it's not that bad,
really...

Now I can feel his weight on my back as he settles in to fuck me; I can feel
his breath on the side of my face, all hot and wet, as he grunts and groans
each time he thrusts himself inside of me, telling me how good my ass feels
and how he's gonna fuck me until I beg him to stop.

The anger returns because he knows that I know that I'm going to beg him to
stop eventually, I'm going to start begging for his sperm again, pleading
with him to fill my ass with his spunk.  This time, the anger is stronger
within me and I've decided that I've had enough of being used and abused
like this and I start to get up despite Jerrod's greater weight pressing me
to the floor...

Only to feel his hand on the back of my neck, forcing me back onto my
stomach, and making me submit once more to his demands, his voice telling me
that I'm going to be punished...

Jerrod's got this unbelievable "talent" for being able to deliver a bucket
of cum when you blow him and he remains just as hard so he can fuck you -
and he can keep it up for quite a while, too.  I knew another guy like him,
but this guy would blow a load in my mouth then slide into me and blow
another load in just a few short minutes.  Not Jerrod.  He feels like a
piece of red-hot iron in my bowels as he begins to pound himself into my ass
without any mercy whatsoever.

Tears are beginning to spill down my face, pooling where my cheek is mashed
hard against the floor; I'm crying because he's hurting me, crying because
of the sheer humiliation of being in this position again, and crying being
I'm loving every second of it - and I hate myself for it, which just starts
me crying again.

My poor prostate feels like someone's been using it for baseball practice as
Jerrod's cock head slams repeatedly into it, causing me to cum all over
myself and the floor; my sphincter is painfully stretched wide as his cock
plows into me; Jerrod's in grand form today and I know I'm going to be in
for a rough time...

I'm not sure at what point I either passed out or just went to sleep; I know
that when I woke up, I found myself in Jerrod's bed and nice and warm and
comfortable between those gold satin sheets he's so proud of.  My body aches
from the severe pounding administered by Jerrod... but I manage to find some
comfort in the whole thing, knowing that it could have been - and has been -
worse.

I roll over and see my clothes piled up on a nearby chair, taking notice
that Jerrod's nowhere to be seen at the moment, which gives me my chance to
get out of here!  Damn it, this is the last time, I swear it is!

As quickly and as quietly as I can, I start to get dressed, wincing silently
as my slightly bruised and battered body protests against the sudden
movements; yeah, I'm gonna be really sore later but right now I gotta get
outta here before Jerrod comes to check on me.

I sit down on the bed and stuff my feet into my socks before thrusting one
leg into my pants.  Just as I'm about to complete the task of getting my
pants on, the door opens and Jerrod walks in just as naked as the day he was
born.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asks as he walks towards me,
holding his cock in his hand.  My mouth begins to water...

I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be allowing this to happen...

Finis (for now)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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