How To Rape A Straight Guy by Sullivan, Michel (phonics reader .TXT) 📗

fuckin’ Carter thought he’d punish for it.  Stupid motherfuckin’ Carter was gonna make me pay for doin’ somethin’ that he let happen a dozen times a day to other people’s sons.  An’ nephews.  An’ fathers.  An’ husbands.  An’ shit.  Man, I had to smile at that.  Fuckin’ hypocrite.  He deserved anything I did to him.

I took my hand off his crotch but kept the shiv tight against his throat.  He was shiverin’.  I could feel him.  I think he was more scared of me bein’ quiet than of anything else’d happened, so far.  He was smart to be.

I pulled a strip from a towel I’d shredded out of my pocket an’ whispered to him, “Put your hands behind you.”

He jolted an’ asked me, “Why?”

I dug the shiv into his neck, just enough to cut him.  He gasped then did as I said.  I used the strip to tie his wrists together.  Twice around.  Good an’ knotted.  Got ‘em so tight he grunted from the pain.  Then I turned him ‘round to face me.  I was still smilin’ -- an’ that scared him more than anything.  Fuckin’ shit.  A fuckin’ guard was shakin’ ‘cause of me.  This was gonna be great.  I crushed him against the corner an’ whispered, “How ‘bout I show ya what I did to your buddy’s nephew?”

“What?”  But then it hit him an’ he shook his head an’ choked out a, “No.”

I pressed harder against him.  Held him tight against the brick.  Ground my dick into his crotch.  An’ grinned wider.  Then I unbuckled his belt.  He jolted an’ tried to squirm away, so I slammed him to the floor.  He landed hard, but he was still able to cry out.  He started to scream loud enough he might’ve been heard over the noise of the machines, so I yanked off my tee-shirt an’ jammed it into his mouth.  Hard.  Almost down his throat.  He gagged an’ tried to kick me, so I pulled his pants down to his ankles an’ pulled his belt tight around ‘em.  Then I pulled my tee-shirt out of his mouth -- didn’t want him to choke to death -- and used it as a gag on him.  Now he was too tied down to do me much damage.  He still bucked an’ tried to yell, but the noise from the washers an’ dryers an’ the gag kept anybody from hearin’ him.  I stood up watched the little pig squirm, lovin’ it.

His boxers were still pretty much on, so I straddled his chest an’ ripped ‘em off him.  He was uncut, the fuck, but I wasn’t gonna back down, not by that point; I was just gonna hurt him, even more.

I turned an’ now was straddlin’ his belly, watchin’ him try to spit out my shirt an’ look around for help an’ shake his head, no.  I slid my zipper down, slow.  Tauntin’ him.  Then I dug inside an’ pulled out my dick.  Man, I was hard as a rock.  I rubbed it against his face.  He shook his head like he was gonna go nuts.  I almost laughed.

“This is goin’ up your ass, bitch,” I said, “an’ you’re gonna love it.  That’s what fucked up your buddy’s cunt of a nephew -- me showin’ him how much he liked havin’ my thick dick up his sweet little ass.”

Carter tried to scream, so I slapped him.  Hard.  Twice.  He started cryin’.  I pulled my shirt down from his mouth to around his neck an’ twisted it tight.  He gasped for air but could still breathe, just not enough to yell.  I held it there with my left hand as I unbuttoned his shirt with my right.

He had big pecs, hairless an’ smooth, an’ his abs were as soft an’ smooth as Connie’s.  Surprised me.  I figured he’d have something like the six-packs you see these iron-junkies always goin’ for.  Not that I gave a shit about how he looked.

He just gasped an’ shook his head an’ muttered, “No, God, please,” over an’ over.  I twisted my shirt a little tighter to shut him up.  Then I shifted around, pulled his legs up an’ slipped between ‘em an’ lubed myself with some spit.  Before he could even think about it, I’d rammed my dick deep into him.

He tried to scream, but I had my shirt twisted too tight ‘round his throat, so he just choked.  When I was all the way in him, I let it loose a little.  Didn’t want him hurlin’ on me or drownin’ in his own puke.  Then I pumped into him, long an’ slow an’ hard.  An’ I played with his ass.  An’ I stroked his belly.  An’ I sucked on his tits.  An’ I told myself I was back with Connie, fuckin’ her an’ suckin’ on her tits an’ rubbin’ her belly like I always had.  An’ finally came the fun part -- he started gettin’ hard.  Soon you couldn’t tell he wasn’t cut, an’ just to prove how much he was my bitch, I let go of my shirt, kept lickin’ his tits an’ stroking his abs, an’ made my other hand circle his dick, an’ I began pullin’ on it.

He froze, like he couldn’t believe what was happenin’, then he said, “What th’ fuck’re you doin’?”

I twisted the shirt tight, again, an’ kept pullin’ on his dick.  He got harder an’ harder, an’ I sneered as he tried to squirm away from me.  I was close to comin’, so I slowed down my action an’ pulled harder on his dick.  Even spit in my hand to make the pullin’ smoother.  I wanted this fucker to taste his own shit.

After a couple minutes, I was close to firin’ into him, an’ I was wonderin’ if he ever was gonna shoot.  He was fightin’ me, like you wouldn’t believe -- shakin’ his head an’ tryin’ to twist away from my hand