It was days later, on Friday evening. I lay naked on my bed, gazing down at the gleaming steel cage that encased my penis. Brent had put the cage on me, locking up my dick, six days ago. Six days. Every morning I woke up with my cock aching, trying to get hard and not being able to. I went to classes, and then to work, and tried to forget about the cage, but it was impossible to ignore. With every step I took I felt the weight of the thing on my dick, a continual reminder of my own helplessness. It was all I could think about! I was so damn horny I couldn’t stand it, yet I couldn’t do anything about it.
A the end of each day I went home, ate some dinner, and tried to watch TV or play a computer game, but all I could think about was how horny I was. I had never gone this long without masturbating. The cage was an implacable barrier, keeping me from being able to touch my own dick, yet its presence kept me constantly aware of my poor attention-starved penis and how much I wanted to stroke it. It was torture.
Sometimes I raged at the unfairness of it, and I cursed Brent with every breath. But then… Sometimes, lying awake in the middle of the night, I yearned to submit to him, to let him do to me whatever he pleased. Being under Brent’s control last Saturday night had opened up a whole new realm of sexuality for me, one that I couldn’t stop thinking about. I resented it because it was fucking Brent, yet I was obsessing about it constantly. Yeah, I was a fucking mess.
I just wanted, more than anything, to take off this cage and end this terrible frustration! Several times this week I had seriously considered going to Brent and begging him to take the cage off. It would be humiliating, and I doubt that he would do it, but I was that desperate.
Now it was Friday night. Tomorrow he would be expecting me to show up for his Saturday night party, and he’d said that maybe he’d take the cage off and maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, I knew he was going to use me and humiliate me. And when he was done he was going to tie me up and put me on that coffee table again, to be fucked and used all evening by anybody and everybody.
Every time I thought about that I started to tense up, and my belly began to flutter with nervousness. The prospect excited me and terrified me at the same time. I had serious doubts that I could stand to go through that experience again. For the millionth time I thought about not going, just not showing up at all, but then the bleak prospect of going through another week or more with my penis locked up in this cage filled me with even more dread. Deep down, I knew I would go. I had to go.
But tonight, gazing helplessly down at my caged cock, I was filled with a reckless, desperate lust. I needed…something. Anything. I began entertaining the idea of going over to Brent’s house tonight and throwing myself on his mercy. Even if he just laughed at me, bent me over and fucked me, at least it would be something. Anything would be better than this.
Finally, after debating it for nearly two hours, I worked up the courage to do it. I threw on some clothes, jumped in my car and drove over to Brent’s place, before I could chicken out. When I arrived, there were three cars in the driveway, and several lights were on in the house. I parked across the street, killed the engine, and sat gazing at the sprawling split-level.
On some level, I had realized that Brent lived with his parents. Most of my friends did. Rents were ridiculous these days. I shared my apartment with three other guys. It was how we got by. But Brent’s parents hadn’t been around on either of the Saturday nights I’d been here, and I hadn’t really thought about what I’d do if they were home.
Finally, I got out and sneaked quietly around the big house to the back. I had a general sense of where Brent’s room was, and when I saw a second-floor window with a light on and football posters on the wall, I knew it was his room.
It was cliché and stupid, but I picked up some pebbles from the driveway and began tossing them up at his window. On the fourth one, Brent appeared and slid his window open. He looked angry, but when he saw me, a cruel smile spread across his face. I suddenly felt really stupid, and I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t matter, though. He knew why I was there. He put a finger to his lips, and closed the window.
I waited five long, agonizing minutes, kicking myself the whole time. I almost walked away several times. What the hell was I doing here? I hate Brent! I hate him! He’s a bully and an asshole, and he’s not going to give me any kind of fulfillment. He’s just going to humiliate me, at best. Hurt me and abuse me at worst. Coming here was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had! …and yet, here I was.
Finally Brent came around the house, wearing that same mean smile. “We can’t talk here,” he whispered. “Follow me.”
I followed him back around the house. When he got in his car and backed out of the driveway, I got in my own car and followed him. We drove a long way, and with every mile I berated myself for being here. But just when I was seriously considering peeling off and going home, Brent pulled over and parked. I parked behind him, and got out. We were on a dark, quiet street in a neighborhood of bungalows, duplexes and small apartment buildings with lawns and gardens, in a part of town I’d never been to.
When Brent walked up to me, a backpack slung over his shoulder, I had to ask. “Where are we?”
“Someone else’s house,” he said. “That’s all you need to know. C’mon.”
He turned and headed for the nearest building. I followed him across the lawn, knowing I should turn around and go home, but somehow not doing so. I knew with every fiber of my being that this was a terrible idea. But somehow I followed him anyway. He led me to the building’s partially enclosed stairwell, and up the stairs. The building had just four apartments, two of them above the first two. We went up the first flight to the landing in the middle, then he stopped and turned around. He had that mean smile again.
“C’mere,” he said, reaching for me.
I could have run, but I didn’t. I let him grab me by the front of my hoodie, pull me around and push me against the wall, just like he used to do in high school when he was going to bully and humiliate me. He leaned in close, still smiling that smile. Reminding me how much I hated him, how much I’d always hated him.
“Still got your cage on?” he whispered.
I didn’t answer, so he reached down and grabbed my crotch. I yelped as his fingers closed around my balls, but he didn’t hurt me. His hand slid over the hard contours of the steel cage, and he nodded. Then he reached up and unzipped my hoodie. I didn’t try to stop him as he pulled it off my shoulders, then began pulling up my tee-shirt.
“What are you doing?” I whined.
“Undressing you,” he said, pulling the tee-shirt over my head. “You gonna help, or what?”
I felt the cool night air moving against my bare chest. It made me feel vulnerable. I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. Brent unbuckled my belt, unzipped my jeans and pushed them down. My briefs went with them. The night air touched my balls now, my thighs, my pubic area that I always kept shaved and smooth. But my dick was enclosed in metal, and felt nothing. I looked down, and felt myself blush. Brent was stripping me.
The stairwell was well-lit enough that if anyone walked by on the walkway below, they’d see us. I listened, but I didn’t hear anybody coming. Still, I was scared to be standing here in a strange stairwell, undressed. Brent pushed my pants down to my ankles, then turned me around so I was facing the wall. My bare butt was exposed now, and Brent’s hand closed around my right cheek, making me shiver. He squeezed, caressing it roughly. After a few squeezes he moved to the other cheek. Then his fingers were slipping between the cheeks, touching me…
In spite of myself, I whimpered softly. Brent chuckled, rubbing my tender anus with a fingertip. “You’re gonna get some cock tonight,” he said.
I was repulsed by the roughness of his voice, the crudeness of his words, and the assumption that all he had to do was tickle my anus a little bit to make me want his abuse. He was a disgusting, repellent human being, an insensitive bully. But god dammit, there was something inside of me that did want his abuse. I didn’t want it to be true, but I was aroused by his brutal pawing, by the manhandling, by the assumptions he was making about me. I closed my eyes, pressed my palms against the wall and let him maul my soft bottom, feeling my libido rise.
I wanted to ask him my question, the all-important question, but I was afraid of the answer. I knew what his answer would be, and I didn’t want to hear it. Of course he wouldn’t take the cage off my cock. He had complete control over me because of that cage. I had given myself to him tonight because of the cage. Why would he give up that control? The night before my Saturday night sacrifice? No. He wanted me desperate, just as desperate as I was right now. Desperate enough to let him do anything he wanted.
After a minute he stopped teasing my ass, grabbed my right wrist, and pulled it behind me. I felt a wide leather cuff close around my wrist, then the click of something metal. He pulled my left wrist behind me, and put a cuff around it, too. I thought he would fasten them together, but instead I felt him wrapping another soft leather cuff around my left upper arm, up high near my armpit. He brought my right wrist across to it, and there was another click as he attached them. My right upper arm got another cuff, and then my left wrist was attached to it. My arms were now folded high up behind my back, rendering me utterly helpless.
I heard him fishing around in his backpack, and then he was pulling a hood over my head. It was black spandex, and it covered my whole head. It had a plastic mouthpiece sewn into it, and when Brent ordered me to open my mouth, God help me, I obeyed, and the mouthpiece slipped between my teeth, holding my mouth wide open.
There were no eyeholes. In fact the fabric that covered my eyes was reinforced, and I couldn’t see a thing through it, yet I could breathe through the part that covered my nose. I felt a collar being buckled around my neck. Then Brent was removing my shoes, socks and pants. I heard him stuffing them into his backpack. Then he was lifting my right foot, and I felt a different sock sliding over my foot. He worked it up over my ankle and just kept going. He pulled it up past my knee and halfway up my thigh, and only then did I realize he was putting women’s stockings on me. He lifted my left foot, and pulled a stocking up that leg, too. It felt weird, being naked but having stockings wrapped around my legs.
“Okay, butt-boy,” he said softly into my ear. “You’re ready. We’re gonna go visit a friend of mine. It’s gonna be fun!”
He snapped a leash to my collar, and then he led me up the remaining flight of stairs to the second floor balcony. I was naked and helpless, blindfolded and bound, entirely at his mercy, and all I could do was follow where he led me. We stopped, and he turned me, positioning me where he wanted me. Then he knocked on a door right in front of me.
My panic rose as I heard footsteps approaching, then I heard the door open. There was a surprised gasp from whoever had answered the door, and from right behind me Brent said “Surprise!”
“Jesus fucking christ!” said a voice. “What the fuck!” Then, softer, “Brent? What is this?”
“You gonna let us in, or what?” said Brent.
“Oh fuck,” said the voice, and I felt hands pulling me forward. I felt carpet under my stockinged feet, clothed bodies brushing up against me, and then the door closed. It was warm here, and there was the smell of recently-popped popcorn in the air. I was inside someone’s apartment, and though it was less frightening than being outside, I felt a new dread building inside me.
“Who is it?” said another voice from deeper in the apartment, and I heard someone else enter the room. “Fuck!” he said, having apparently seen me standing there, naked and hooded, in his living room.
Brent laughed. “Damn, you should see your face! Fuckin’ hilarious! I just brought a toy for you guys to play with. Thought you might be bored, stayin’ home on a Friday night.”
“Fuck, Brent,” said the first voice. “You couldn’t call first?”
“That woulda ruined the surprise,” said Brent. “I knew you’d be here. I thought you might wanna do something different tonight. Gonna ruin your eyes, playin’ those games all night.”
I heard the second guy approaching, stopping a few feet away. I could almost feel his eyes on my naked body. I squirmed a little, but there was nothing I could do to make the situation any less humiliating. With my mouth held open I couldn’t speak, and with my arms bound behind me I couldn’t cover myself.
“You brought this naked guy over for us to play with?” said the second person incredulously. There was something familiar about his voice, but I couldn’t place it right away. “Who is he?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Brent. “It’s just a sissy. You don’t know him, he’s from out of town.” He chuckled. “Sissies are nothin’ but walkin’ sex toys. They love to be abused. They love humiliation. They love takin’ cock. Seriously, you can do anything you want to him, and he’ll fucking love it.”
“Really?” said the first voice, incredulous.
“Sure,” said Brent. “I get ‘em all the time. Figured I might as well share the wealth with you guys.”
“What’s that thing on his dick?” said the second voice from somewhat closer. His voice really was familiar.
“They call it a cock-cage,” said Brent off-handedly. “Sissies like to wear ‘em. It’s a sissy thing.”
“No shit,” said the first voice. Weirdly, that voice was starting to sound familiar, too.
“Why would sissies lock up their own dicks?” said the second voice.
Suddenly I knew who that voice belonged to. It was Mark! Mark Henley! We used to hang out together in high school. I’d developed a crush on him during our junior year. Neither of us had come out yet, but I had been sure he was gay. One day I came onto him, maybe a little too strongly. Turned out he wasn’t gay, or at least he wasn’t ready to admit his gayness to himself, and he kinda freaked out. After that he wouldn’t hang out with me anymore.
But this wasn’t making sense! Even if Mark had eventually turned out to be gay, he was a nerd like me! He wouldn’t be friends with an asshole jock like Brent!
“They do it so they can concentrate on being submissive,” said Brent. “They know they can’t have satisfaction themselves, not with the cage on, so their focus is on giving pleasure to their masters. Tonight, that’s you guys!”
“So sissies don’t want satisfaction?” said Mark. “They only want to please their masters?”
“Sure,” said Brent. “Look, I’ll show you.” He tugged hard on the leash, and I stumbled further into the room.
I found my knees bumping against an upholstered couch, and Brent tugged upward on the leash, saying “Up!” like I was a dog. I had no choice but to get up onto the couch on my knees, or fall over it. When I knelt there, Brent sat beside me and turned me to face him. He pulled me down by the leash, and I had to bend over sharply, sticking my butt out to keep from tipping forward. Unsurprisingly, I found my face nestled in Brent’s lap. I could feel the bulge of his cock against my cheek, the heat of it radiating right through his jeans. He repositioned my head with a big hand, and I heard the sound of a zipper next to my ear. A moment later I felt a thick, warm cock against my spandex-covered cheek. He lifted my head, and then the tip of his cock was sliding into my mouth through the plastic mouthpiece that held my mouth open.
The fat, soft head of his cock skated across my tongue and bumped against the back of my throat. Soft, thick, warm flesh followed; the shaft of his cock, still flaccid, bunching up and filling my mouth with spongy, shapeless meat. There was so much of it that it pinned my tongue beneath its weight. I recoiled, trying to lift my head, but Brent’s hand was there, pressing me down. My mouth was stuffed, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even free my tongue to try to sort it out. Even completely soft, Brent’s cock was more than a mouthful.
Inside my hood, inside my head, my mind was racing. I was still trying to come to grips with the fact that it was Mark Henley, the guy I’d had a crush on two years ago, who was in the room with me. We’d been friends, until I ruined it by coming onto him, and I still had feelings for him. Now I was naked and totally at his mercy, but he didn’t know it was me. Brent had told him I was just some sissy from out of town.
What was Brent’s game? Why was he doing this? Of course he knew Mark and I had been friends. He might have even known why we broke up. So what was his purpose in bringing us together like this? It wasn’t so we’d fall in love and get back together. That wasn’t a thing Brent would do. Brent was into cruelty. Somehow, this scenario would end in cruelty. But how? What was Brent planning?
Brent’s cock was gradually swelling inside my mouth. It twisted against my tongue as it stiffened, and the fat, spongy head of it began pressing against the back of my throat. He was just casually holding my head down with his hand, not moving, and not letting me move. My lips were mashed against his jeans, his whole cock inside my mouth. As it slowly hardened, it pushed harder against the back of my throat, and I realized his intention. He was just going to hold me like this, and let his growing erection force its way down my throat as it grew. I wouldn’t be able to resist it for long. I think I panicked a little, my breathing becoming irregular.
But while I struggled with Brent’s erection, he was having a calm, measured conversation with Mark and his friend, whose Identity I hadn’t placed yet.
“So sissies just give themselves to someone? Like a sex slave?” said Mark.
“Sorta like that, yeah,” said Brent. “Only it’s slightly more complicated with sissies. For one thing, they like to pretend they’re girls. They shave everything, like this one does, so they’re smooth and pretty. They like to wear girls’ underwear and stuff. Sometimes they go full-trans, and start taking female hormones. Pretty soon they can pass for a real girl.”
There was a long pause, and then Mark’s friend spoke really softly, so I could barely hear him. “Mark likes wearing panties and stuff under his clothes.”
“Fuck!” protested Mark. “Don’t tell ‘im that!”
Brent chuckled. “It’s fine, nothing wrong with wearing panties. This sissy here likes panties, too. And you can see he’s wearing stockings. He thinks they feel sexy.”
I felt a little shiver go up my spine. Brent was making this shit up, of course. I’d never worn panties, and the only reason I was wearing stockings was because he’d put them on me. But what made me shiver was the fact that he was right. Wearing the stockings did make me feel sexy. Was I really a sissy?
“But the other thing about sissies,” Brent went on, “Is that they’re totally submissive. Not just to one master. To anyone who can dominate them. Anyone who can make them feel like a fuckin’ used tissue fulla cum. They love to be used, especially by someone who’s mean to ‘em.” He patted my head. “Ain’t that right, Butt-boy?”
By this point Brent’s growing cock was crawling down my throat, and I was starting to gag on it. I know everyone could hear the choking sounds I was making, especially in the moments of silence that followed Brent’s remarks.
“Is he okay?” Mark asked, ending the silence.
“He’s fine,” said Brent dismissively.
“Mark’s submissive,” said Mark’s friend softly, as though it were something he was realizing just then.
“No I’m not,” said Mark quickly. But I recognized the way he said it. His denial was just an attempt to cover his embarrassment.
“Yes you are,” said his friend seriously. “Are you a sissy?”
“Fuck no,” said Mark, as though the suggestion was ridiculous.
Meanwhile, Brent’s cock felt like it was several inches down my throat now, and tears were filling my eyes as I tried to stop gagging on it. The choking noises I couldn’t stop making were pretty loud now, at least they sounded that way to me. I could barely breathe.
“Are you sure he’s okay?” said Mark.
“He’s a sissy, he fuckin’ loves this,” said Brent with a laugh. “He gags a little at first, but it’ll pass. He swallows cock like a champ.” After another long pause, Brent spoke again. “He’s probably dyin’ to have a cock in his ass. You guys wanna fuck ‘im?”
“You think he’d be okay with that?” said Mark diffidently.
“You kiddin’?” Brent laughed again. “He’s a sissy! He needs cock in his ass. He lives for it.”
I felt a touch on my out-thrust butt, then a finger gently began stroking my tender anus. I had almost managed to stop gagging on the cock in my throat, but the unexpected distraction broke my concentration and I choked loudly. Brent’s cock was still growing, still getting longer and thicker, continuing to fill my throat with its fleshy mass.
“I’ll get the lube,” said Mark softly.
The finger continued to tickle my puckered bottom-hole, so I knew it was Mark’s friend, whose voice I still couldn’t place. After a minute I felt cold, slippery lubricant being rubbed onto my hole, and I felt it tense up in anticipation, knowing it was about to be penetrated. A few seconds later it was, a finger sliding easily up inside me, despite the way my anus was clenching. I shivered at the sensation of having a finger in me.
The finger slipped freely in and out of my bottom-hole, adding more lube each time. It poked around inside, like it was exploring, and I found myself wriggling my ass in response. I could hear Mark and his friend giggling each time his friend made me squirm with his finger. I was mortified.
It had to be because of the steel cage on my dick. I’d been wearing it for a whole week, getting hornier and hornier the whole time, without any relief. Apparently I was to the point now that I could no longer control my responses. The guy’s finger was driving me crazy, and the more it swirled around inside me, the more I wanted a cock in there. I had never been this horny in my life.
I heard Brent chuckle. “He’s ready for ya,” he said. “Sissies don’t need no foreplay. Stick your dick in him, already.”
The finger withdrew, and I felt the couch shift as someone behind me moved. I heard the rattle of a belt buckle, a zipper sliding down, the rustle of clothing. Soft whispers. Then the couch moved again, and I felt someone behind me, between my stockinged feet. A hand rested gently on the top of my butt, then I felt the tip of a cock against my anus. I didn’t know who it was, Mark or his friend, but I knew I was about to have a cock inside me.
Brent’s cock had crawled right down my throat. I didn’t know if it was fully hard yet, but it was blocking my breath now. I couldn’t breathe, and I started to panic. He was still holding my face firmly against his belly, the entire length of his massive cock down my throat. I began to struggle, making urgent noises that became no more than humming sounds by the time they’d gotten past my blocked throat.
With a chuckle, Brent relented, easing the pressure on the back of my head so I could back off a few inches. Once his fat cockhead was out of my throat I took a deep breath of sweet, sweet air, and then another. Then his hand pressed my head back down into his lap, driving his massive cock back down my throat. I managed to swallow it without gagging this time. He pulled my face in tight against his hard belly, making sure that every inch of his cock was buried in my throat. He held it there for a long, long moment, then he began to slowly fuck my throat, withdrawing at far as the back of my tongue with each out-stroke so I could catch a breath of air, then driving all the way back in once more.
Meanwhile, the cock pressing against my anus suddenly surged forward as the tight sphincter gave way, and I let out a muffled yelp as my rectum was abruptly filled with warm, eager cock. It paused for only a moment before sinking slowly deeper, pushing its way into the depths of me. I whined and shivered as I was impaled. My anus was still spasming in pain as bare hips pressed against my bottom-cheeks.
“I’m all the way in,” whispered Mark’s friend. “Damn… he’s hot and tight. I think he might even be as tight as you.”
Mercifully, my violated anus stopped spasming as he began fucking me. He started slowly, sliding the whole length of his cock in and out of me. It still hurt, but I wanted it. I whined and whimpered, but I wanted that cock inside me more than anything. As he fucked me, I could feel my desire for submission rising. I embraced it, waiting for it to take me the way it had last Saturday.
I had only discovered my submissive desires a week ago, but it had been the most powerfully erotic sensation I had ever experienced. And I wanted to feel it again. I wanted the feeling of being used for someone else’s pleasure, of surrendering my body to others. I had Brent’s cock slowly but firmly fucking my throat, and someone else fucking my helpless bottom, yet the feeling I remembered was slow in coming. Perhaps I was inhibited by the knowledge that Mark was watching. With our complicated history, it was hard to lose myself in the moment. I kept wondering what he thought, even though I knew he didn’t know who I was.
Brent continued to fuck my throat, fucking in and out slowly, lazily. His cock was so long and so thick, every stroke was an ordeal, and I had to swallow hard with each inward stroke to keep from gagging again. At the same time, the cock in my bowels was beginning to move faster, and it seemed to be getting bigger, as well. It was overwhelming, taking cock from both ends like this.
Suddenly there were fingers delicately caressing my balls. The distraction was enough to upset the precarious timing of my swallows, and I choked on Brent’s cock again as it plunged back into the depths of my throat. I knew it had to be Mark tickling my balls, and the knowledge triggered complex emotions.
“He can’t get hard inside that cage, can he?” Mark asked softly.
“Nope,” said Brent. “He’d probably be hard as a fuckin’ rock right now if it weren’t for the cage.”
“It seems sort of… cruel,” said Mark. There was an odd, wistful note in his voice.
Brent must have noticed it too, because he chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cruel. But sissies love that shit.”
My confused, whirling thoughts settled on his words. Was he right? Did I love that shit? Did I crave cruelty, as Brent so casually proclaimed? My feelings protested, answering with a resounding “NO!” But as my emotions whirled around inside my head, I wasn’t as sure as I thought I was.
Strong hands gripped my hips as the thick cock inside my bottom began to fuck me harder. Brent’s cock slid slowly up and down my esophagus, only letting me breathe two or three times a minute, so I was light-headed, but at least I was no longer gagging. His big hand on the back of my head controlled me completely, pushing my face deep into his lap again and again. Mark’s fingers caressed my tender testicles a little more boldly.
The agonizing pleasure of taking a cock in my bottom seemed more intense, more overwhelming, than ever before. Was it because of the cock-cage, and the forced abstinence it imposed on me? I yearned desperately to have my cock touched, stroked, teased, anything, and that yearning grew as my arousal did. But nothing could touch my cock, I was denied that stimulation. I could only submit, I could do nothing but take cock, like the butt-boy Brent had made of me.
Before long, the cock in my bottom began pounding me hard and fast, making me wail helplessly. Brent’s massive cock still filled my throat, turning my desperate cries into a muffled humming that could easily be ignored. Finally I heard the guy behind me groan in pleasure as he filled my bowels with his hot cum. When he was done, he withdrew his wet, softening cock, leaving my hungry hole feeling soft, vulnerable and…empty.
“You done already, Reggie?” said Mark from close beside me.
Reggie! That’s who the other guy was. Reggie Schaefer had been part of the jock crowd during our junior year in high school, and for a time he had been one of Brent’s circle of friends. He had bullied me a few times, but only when Brent was around. By our senior year Reggie had quit sports, and stopped hanging out with the bully crowd. Since he was no longer one of the bullies, he stopped being one of the guys I had to avoid, and pretty much fell off my radar. Somehow he had ended up with Mark, yet still had some kind of relationship with Brent. I remembered him as an olive-skinned, curly-haired guy in a letterman’s jacket, somewhat smaller and less muscular than Brent and his football buddies. I’d hated him, of course, but not nearly as vehemently as I’d hated Brent. And now I had his semen in my bowels.
“Yeah,” said Reggie, panting a little, a quizzical tone in his voice. “I know, I usually last longer than that. Something about the sissy being all cuffed up and hooded and helpless like that…I dunno. I felt like I could do anything I wanted to him, and it didn’t matter ‘cuz he’s just a sissy. Made me hot. Made me wanna fuck him really hard.”
“My turn,” said Mark, and I felt him climbing onto the couch behind me.
Mark’s cock was rock-hard as it slid into my bottom-hole. I groaned, but since Brent’s cock was still filling my throat it came out as a hum. Mark moaned softly as his shaft sank all the way up inside me.
“Aw fuck,” he said breathlessly. “So hot and tight…”
I could hardly believe how good it felt to have Mark’s cock inside me. It wasn’t as large as Reggie’s, but it was still big enough. Maybe part of the pleasure was knowing that it was Mark fucking me, I don’t know. I wasn’t very coherent by this point.
Mark began slowly, with deep, long strokes. Gradually he accelerated, until within a few minutes he was hammering into me as hard as he could. He’d stop every time he got close to cumming, trying to make it last as long as he could.
This went on for a while, and somewhere in the middle of it Brent shot his load into the back of my throat. When he finally withdrew his long, wet cock from my throat it was a tremendous relief. Panting, finally able to breathe again, I buried my head in the couch cushion and thrust my ass out as far as I could for Mark. He spun out the fucking for as long as he could manage, but eventually he, too, shot his semen into me.
I felt a strange sense of fulfillment afterward. All three of them, including Mark, had cum inside me, and sat around me now, recovering. I remained as I had been left, my face and knees on the couch cushions, my butt in the air. I tried to swallow the sticky cum Brent had left in my throat without much success. I was still desperately horny, but all I could do was wait for someone to turn their attention back to me.
The three of them opened beers and sat drinking them, but nobody offered me a beer. I was, after all, only a nameless sissy. Mark was curious about this sissy Brent had brought, and sissies in general. As they talked, he began asking questions.
“Where did you find the sissy?” he wanted to know.
“Oh, you know, you can find them online,” said Brent evasively. “There are websites, and chat channels and stuff, where they get together.”
“But where is this one from?”
“Well, you know, I didn’t really ask,” Brent hedged. “We agreed to meet, and the rest is history.”
“But what’s he like?” Mark pursued. “Could you tell he was a sissy just by looking at him?”
“He was a little femmy,” said Brent. “But I couldn’t really tell how submissive he was until I started playing with him.”
“What does he look like? Could he pass for a girl if he wanted to?”
“I don’t think he really wants anyone to know who he is. He’s only a sissy, but if he wants to stay anonymous, I respect that.”
Mark was genuinely curious, but Brent was toying with him, lying and being evasive. As they were talking, I began to realize something. Mark’s curiosity about me was familiar. I had been fascinated, almost obsessively curious, about the anonymous sissy at Brent’s party. I hadn’t really understood why, but Brent had known why. He’d recognized that the sissy’s situation, his submission and his status as a helpless sexual object, had struck a chord within me, playing on my own hidden submissive desires. Then he’d used those perverse desires to enslave me.
Now, here I was being presented as a faceless submissive sissy, and my condition was intriguing Mark in the same way. Brent was using me to seduce Mark! I was suddenly sure of it!
I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let my old friend end up like I was, a helpless slave to a cruel bully. I had to stop it from happening.
With a bit of squirming, I managed to get my knees under me and lift my body up into an upright position. I turned my head in the direction Mark’s voice was coming from, and I cried out, “Mark, no! Don’t let him trick you! You’ll end up a slave like me!”
Well, that’s what I tried to say. With the plastic tube holding my mouth open, I couldn’t articulate consonants, and my brave warning came out as a series of indecipherable noises.
“What does he want?” Mark asked after a long moment.
Brent laughed. “I know what he wants,” he said. “He can’t stand it when nobody’s paying attention to him. I know just what he needs.”
The couch lurched and sagged right in front of me, and then strong hands lowered me, face-down, across a lap. “I know, I know,” said Brent, arranging me so that my bare butt was centered on his lap and lifted by his raised knee. “This’ll make you feel better.”
His right hand came down hard on my naked bottom, a resounding crack echoing through the room. The stinging pain was too much to bear, and I squealed helplessly, my body arching, my legs kicking wildly in the air. Before I had even stopped squealing his hand came down again, just as hard, on the other cheek. He just kept going from there. He was spanking me so hard and so fast that I couldn’t catch my breath between swats. It was brutal.
He knew. Brent knew that I knew what his game was, and this was his way of shutting me up before Mark figured out that I was trying to warn him.
The spanking went on for a long time, the rhythm unbroken. I howled and kicked helplessly, bouncing all over his lap, my bottom-cheeks blazing, but nothing I did could stop it. After a few minutes I was sobbing. He kept it going for another minute after that before he finally stopped. I cried and squirmed like a child in his lap, and he rubbed my burning butt with soothing strokes.
“There you go… there you go…” he said in a soothing voice.
“Wow,” said Mark breathlessly.
“Sissies need discipline sometimes,” said Brent. “They crave it, and they’ll even misbehave to get it. But I find they’re much happier after a good hard spanking.”
This story ended up being really long, so I split it in half to post it, so it wouldn't get mangled. To read the rest, look for "Anonymous 3 Part 2."
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Anonymous 3 Part 1
by ShadowJack
It was days later, on Friday evening. I lay naked on my bed, gazing down at the gleaming steel cage that encased my penis. Brent had put the cage on me, locking up my dick, six days ago. Six days. Every morning I woke up with my cock aching, trying to get hard and not being able to. I went to classes, and then to work, and tried to forget about the cage, but it was impossible to ignore. With every step I took I felt the weight of the thing on my dick, a continual reminder of my own helplessness. It was all I could think about! I was so damn horny I couldn’t stand it, yet I couldn’t do anything about it.
A the end of each day I went home, ate some dinner, and tried to watch TV or play a computer game, but all I could think about was how horny I was. I had never gone this long without masturbating. The cage was an implacable barrier, keeping me from being able to touch my own dick, yet its presence kept me constantly aware of my poor attention-starved penis and how much I wanted to stroke it. It was torture.
Sometimes I raged at the unfairness of it, and I cursed Brent with every breath. But then… Sometimes, lying awake in the middle of the night, I yearned to submit to him, to let him do to me whatever he pleased. Being under Brent’s control last Saturday night had opened up a whole new realm of sexuality for me, one that I couldn’t stop thinking about. I resented it because it was fucking Brent, yet I was obsessing about it constantly. Yeah, I was a fucking mess.
I just wanted, more than anything, to take off this cage and end this terrible frustration! Several times this week I had seriously considered going to Brent and begging him to take the cage off. It would be humiliating, and I doubt that he would do it, but I was that desperate.
Now it was Friday night. Tomorrow he would be expecting me to show up for his Saturday night party, and he’d said that maybe he’d take the cage off and maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, I knew he was going to use me and humiliate me. And when he was done he was going to tie me up and put me on that coffee table again, to be fucked and used all evening by anybody and everybody.
Every time I thought about that I started to tense up, and my belly began to flutter with nervousness. The prospect excited me and terrified me at the same time. I had serious doubts that I could stand to go through that experience again. For the millionth time I thought about not going, just not showing up at all, but then the bleak prospect of going through another week or more with my penis locked up in this cage filled me with even more dread. Deep down, I knew I would go. I had to go.
But tonight, gazing helplessly down at my caged cock, I was filled with a reckless, desperate lust. I needed…something. Anything. I began entertaining the idea of going over to Brent’s house tonight and throwing myself on his mercy. Even if he just laughed at me, bent me over and fucked me, at least it would be something. Anything would be better than this.
Finally, after debating it for nearly two hours, I worked up the courage to do it. I threw on some clothes, jumped in my car and drove over to Brent’s place, before I could chicken out. When I arrived, there were three cars in the driveway, and several lights were on in the house. I parked across the street, killed the engine, and sat gazing at the sprawling split-level.
On some level, I had realized that Brent lived with his parents. Most of my friends did. Rents were ridiculous these days. I shared my apartment with three other guys. It was how we got by. But Brent’s parents hadn’t been around on either of the Saturday nights I’d been here, and I hadn’t really thought about what I’d do if they were home.
Finally, I got out and sneaked quietly around the big house to the back. I had a general sense of where Brent’s room was, and when I saw a second-floor window with a light on and football posters on the wall, I knew it was his room.
It was cliché and stupid, but I picked up some pebbles from the driveway and began tossing them up at his window. On the fourth one, Brent appeared and slid his window open. He looked angry, but when he saw me, a cruel smile spread across his face. I suddenly felt really stupid, and I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t matter, though. He knew why I was there. He put a finger to his lips, and closed the window.
I waited five long, agonizing minutes, kicking myself the whole time. I almost walked away several times. What the hell was I doing here? I hate Brent! I hate him! He’s a bully and an asshole, and he’s not going to give me any kind of fulfillment. He’s just going to humiliate me, at best. Hurt me and abuse me at worst. Coming here was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had! …and yet, here I was.
Finally Brent came around the house, wearing that same mean smile. “We can’t talk here,” he whispered. “Follow me.”
I followed him back around the house. When he got in his car and backed out of the driveway, I got in my own car and followed him. We drove a long way, and with every mile I berated myself for being here. But just when I was seriously considering peeling off and going home, Brent pulled over and parked. I parked behind him, and got out. We were on a dark, quiet street in a neighborhood of bungalows, duplexes and small apartment buildings with lawns and gardens, in a part of town I’d never been to.
When Brent walked up to me, a backpack slung over his shoulder, I had to ask. “Where are we?”
“Someone else’s house,” he said. “That’s all you need to know. C’mon.”
He turned and headed for the nearest building. I followed him across the lawn, knowing I should turn around and go home, but somehow not doing so. I knew with every fiber of my being that this was a terrible idea. But somehow I followed him anyway. He led me to the building’s partially enclosed stairwell, and up the stairs. The building had just four apartments, two of them above the first two. We went up the first flight to the landing in the middle, then he stopped and turned around. He had that mean smile again.
“C’mere,” he said, reaching for me.
I could have run, but I didn’t. I let him grab me by the front of my hoodie, pull me around and push me against the wall, just like he used to do in high school when he was going to bully and humiliate me. He leaned in close, still smiling that smile. Reminding me how much I hated him, how much I’d always hated him.
“Still got your cage on?” he whispered.
I didn’t answer, so he reached down and grabbed my crotch. I yelped as his fingers closed around my balls, but he didn’t hurt me. His hand slid over the hard contours of the steel cage, and he nodded. Then he reached up and unzipped my hoodie. I didn’t try to stop him as he pulled it off my shoulders, then began pulling up my tee-shirt.
“What are you doing?” I whined.
“Undressing you,” he said, pulling the tee-shirt over my head. “You gonna help, or what?”
I felt the cool night air moving against my bare chest. It made me feel vulnerable. I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. Brent unbuckled my belt, unzipped my jeans and pushed them down. My briefs went with them. The night air touched my balls now, my thighs, my pubic area that I always kept shaved and smooth. But my dick was enclosed in metal, and felt nothing. I looked down, and felt myself blush. Brent was stripping me.
The stairwell was well-lit enough that if anyone walked by on the walkway below, they’d see us. I listened, but I didn’t hear anybody coming. Still, I was scared to be standing here in a strange stairwell, undressed. Brent pushed my pants down to my ankles, then turned me around so I was facing the wall. My bare butt was exposed now, and Brent’s hand closed around my right cheek, making me shiver. He squeezed, caressing it roughly. After a few squeezes he moved to the other cheek. Then his fingers were slipping between the cheeks, touching me…
In spite of myself, I whimpered softly. Brent chuckled, rubbing my tender anus with a fingertip. “You’re gonna get some cock tonight,” he said.
I was repulsed by the roughness of his voice, the crudeness of his words, and the assumption that all he had to do was tickle my anus a little bit to make me want his abuse. He was a disgusting, repellent human being, an insensitive bully. But god dammit, there was something inside of me that did want his abuse. I didn’t want it to be true, but I was aroused by his brutal pawing, by the manhandling, by the assumptions he was making about me. I closed my eyes, pressed my palms against the wall and let him maul my soft bottom, feeling my libido rise.
I wanted to ask him my question, the all-important question, but I was afraid of the answer. I knew what his answer would be, and I didn’t want to hear it. Of course he wouldn’t take the cage off my cock. He had complete control over me because of that cage. I had given myself to him tonight because of the cage. Why would he give up that control? The night before my Saturday night sacrifice? No. He wanted me desperate, just as desperate as I was right now. Desperate enough to let him do anything he wanted.
After a minute he stopped teasing my ass, grabbed my right wrist, and pulled it behind me. I felt a wide leather cuff close around my wrist, then the click of something metal. He pulled my left wrist behind me, and put a cuff around it, too. I thought he would fasten them together, but instead I felt him wrapping another soft leather cuff around my left upper arm, up high near my armpit. He brought my right wrist across to it, and there was another click as he attached them. My right upper arm got another cuff, and then my left wrist was attached to it. My arms were now folded high up behind my back, rendering me utterly helpless.
I heard him fishing around in his backpack, and then he was pulling a hood over my head. It was black spandex, and it covered my whole head. It had a plastic mouthpiece sewn into it, and when Brent ordered me to open my mouth, God help me, I obeyed, and the mouthpiece slipped between my teeth, holding my mouth wide open.
There were no eyeholes. In fact the fabric that covered my eyes was reinforced, and I couldn’t see a thing through it, yet I could breathe through the part that covered my nose. I felt a collar being buckled around my neck. Then Brent was removing my shoes, socks and pants. I heard him stuffing them into his backpack. Then he was lifting my right foot, and I felt a different sock sliding over my foot. He worked it up over my ankle and just kept going. He pulled it up past my knee and halfway up my thigh, and only then did I realize he was putting women’s stockings on me. He lifted my left foot, and pulled a stocking up that leg, too. It felt weird, being naked but having stockings wrapped around my legs.
“Okay, butt-boy,” he said softly into my ear. “You’re ready. We’re gonna go visit a friend of mine. It’s gonna be fun!”
He snapped a leash to my collar, and then he led me up the remaining flight of stairs to the second floor balcony. I was naked and helpless, blindfolded and bound, entirely at his mercy, and all I could do was follow where he led me. We stopped, and he turned me, positioning me where he wanted me. Then he knocked on a door right in front of me.
My panic rose as I heard footsteps approaching, then I heard the door open. There was a surprised gasp from whoever had answered the door, and from right behind me Brent said “Surprise!”
“Jesus fucking christ!” said a voice. “What the fuck!” Then, softer, “Brent? What is this?”
“You gonna let us in, or what?” said Brent.
“Oh fuck,” said the voice, and I felt hands pulling me forward. I felt carpet under my stockinged feet, clothed bodies brushing up against me, and then the door closed. It was warm here, and there was the smell of recently-popped popcorn in the air. I was inside someone’s apartment, and though it was less frightening than being outside, I felt a new dread building inside me.
“Who is it?” said another voice from deeper in the apartment, and I heard someone else enter the room. “Fuck!” he said, having apparently seen me standing there, naked and hooded, in his living room.
Brent laughed. “Damn, you should see your face! Fuckin’ hilarious! I just brought a toy for you guys to play with. Thought you might be bored, stayin’ home on a Friday night.”
“Fuck, Brent,” said the first voice. “You couldn’t call first?”
“That woulda ruined the surprise,” said Brent. “I knew you’d be here. I thought you might wanna do something different tonight. Gonna ruin your eyes, playin’ those games all night.”
I heard the second guy approaching, stopping a few feet away. I could almost feel his eyes on my naked body. I squirmed a little, but there was nothing I could do to make the situation any less humiliating. With my mouth held open I couldn’t speak, and with my arms bound behind me I couldn’t cover myself.
“You brought this naked guy over for us to play with?” said the second person incredulously. There was something familiar about his voice, but I couldn’t place it right away. “Who is he?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Brent. “It’s just a sissy. You don’t know him, he’s from out of town.” He chuckled. “Sissies are nothin’ but walkin’ sex toys. They love to be abused. They love humiliation. They love takin’ cock. Seriously, you can do anything you want to him, and he’ll fucking love it.”
“Really?” said the first voice, incredulous.
“Sure,” said Brent. “I get ‘em all the time. Figured I might as well share the wealth with you guys.”
“What’s that thing on his dick?” said the second voice from somewhat closer. His voice really was familiar.
“They call it a cock-cage,” said Brent off-handedly. “Sissies like to wear ‘em. It’s a sissy thing.”
“No shit,” said the first voice. Weirdly, that voice was starting to sound familiar, too.
“Why would sissies lock up their own dicks?” said the second voice.
Suddenly I knew who that voice belonged to. It was Mark! Mark Henley! We used to hang out together in high school. I’d developed a crush on him during our junior year. Neither of us had come out yet, but I had been sure he was gay. One day I came onto him, maybe a little too strongly. Turned out he wasn’t gay, or at least he wasn’t ready to admit his gayness to himself, and he kinda freaked out. After that he wouldn’t hang out with me anymore.
But this wasn’t making sense! Even if Mark had eventually turned out to be gay, he was a nerd like me! He wouldn’t be friends with an asshole jock like Brent!
“They do it so they can concentrate on being submissive,” said Brent. “They know they can’t have satisfaction themselves, not with the cage on, so their focus is on giving pleasure to their masters. Tonight, that’s you guys!”
“So sissies don’t want satisfaction?” said Mark. “They only want to please their masters?”
“Sure,” said Brent. “Look, I’ll show you.” He tugged hard on the leash, and I stumbled further into the room.
I found my knees bumping against an upholstered couch, and Brent tugged upward on the leash, saying “Up!” like I was a dog. I had no choice but to get up onto the couch on my knees, or fall over it. When I knelt there, Brent sat beside me and turned me to face him. He pulled me down by the leash, and I had to bend over sharply, sticking my butt out to keep from tipping forward. Unsurprisingly, I found my face nestled in Brent’s lap. I could feel the bulge of his cock against my cheek, the heat of it radiating right through his jeans. He repositioned my head with a big hand, and I heard the sound of a zipper next to my ear. A moment later I felt a thick, warm cock against my spandex-covered cheek. He lifted my head, and then the tip of his cock was sliding into my mouth through the plastic mouthpiece that held my mouth open.
The fat, soft head of his cock skated across my tongue and bumped against the back of my throat. Soft, thick, warm flesh followed; the shaft of his cock, still flaccid, bunching up and filling my mouth with spongy, shapeless meat. There was so much of it that it pinned my tongue beneath its weight. I recoiled, trying to lift my head, but Brent’s hand was there, pressing me down. My mouth was stuffed, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even free my tongue to try to sort it out. Even completely soft, Brent’s cock was more than a mouthful.
Inside my hood, inside my head, my mind was racing. I was still trying to come to grips with the fact that it was Mark Henley, the guy I’d had a crush on two years ago, who was in the room with me. We’d been friends, until I ruined it by coming onto him, and I still had feelings for him. Now I was naked and totally at his mercy, but he didn’t know it was me. Brent had told him I was just some sissy from out of town.
What was Brent’s game? Why was he doing this? Of course he knew Mark and I had been friends. He might have even known why we broke up. So what was his purpose in bringing us together like this? It wasn’t so we’d fall in love and get back together. That wasn’t a thing Brent would do. Brent was into cruelty. Somehow, this scenario would end in cruelty. But how? What was Brent planning?
Brent’s cock was gradually swelling inside my mouth. It twisted against my tongue as it stiffened, and the fat, spongy head of it began pressing against the back of my throat. He was just casually holding my head down with his hand, not moving, and not letting me move. My lips were mashed against his jeans, his whole cock inside my mouth. As it slowly hardened, it pushed harder against the back of my throat, and I realized his intention. He was just going to hold me like this, and let his growing erection force its way down my throat as it grew. I wouldn’t be able to resist it for long. I think I panicked a little, my breathing becoming irregular.
But while I struggled with Brent’s erection, he was having a calm, measured conversation with Mark and his friend, whose Identity I hadn’t placed yet.
“So sissies just give themselves to someone? Like a sex slave?” said Mark.
“Sorta like that, yeah,” said Brent. “Only it’s slightly more complicated with sissies. For one thing, they like to pretend they’re girls. They shave everything, like this one does, so they’re smooth and pretty. They like to wear girls’ underwear and stuff. Sometimes they go full-trans, and start taking female hormones. Pretty soon they can pass for a real girl.”
There was a long pause, and then Mark’s friend spoke really softly, so I could barely hear him. “Mark likes wearing panties and stuff under his clothes.”
“Fuck!” protested Mark. “Don’t tell ‘im that!”
Brent chuckled. “It’s fine, nothing wrong with wearing panties. This sissy here likes panties, too. And you can see he’s wearing stockings. He thinks they feel sexy.”
I felt a little shiver go up my spine. Brent was making this shit up, of course. I’d never worn panties, and the only reason I was wearing stockings was because he’d put them on me. But what made me shiver was the fact that he was right. Wearing the stockings did make me feel sexy. Was I really a sissy?
“But the other thing about sissies,” Brent went on, “Is that they’re totally submissive. Not just to one master. To anyone who can dominate them. Anyone who can make them feel like a fuckin’ used tissue fulla cum. They love to be used, especially by someone who’s mean to ‘em.” He patted my head. “Ain’t that right, Butt-boy?”
By this point Brent’s growing cock was crawling down my throat, and I was starting to gag on it. I know everyone could hear the choking sounds I was making, especially in the moments of silence that followed Brent’s remarks.
“Is he okay?” Mark asked, ending the silence.
“He’s fine,” said Brent dismissively.
“Mark’s submissive,” said Mark’s friend softly, as though it were something he was realizing just then.
“No I’m not,” said Mark quickly. But I recognized the way he said it. His denial was just an attempt to cover his embarrassment.
“Yes you are,” said his friend seriously. “Are you a sissy?”
“Fuck no,” said Mark, as though the suggestion was ridiculous.
Meanwhile, Brent’s cock felt like it was several inches down my throat now, and tears were filling my eyes as I tried to stop gagging on it. The choking noises I couldn’t stop making were pretty loud now, at least they sounded that way to me. I could barely breathe.
“Are you sure he’s okay?” said Mark.
“He’s a sissy, he fuckin’ loves this,” said Brent with a laugh. “He gags a little at first, but it’ll pass. He swallows cock like a champ.” After another long pause, Brent spoke again. “He’s probably dyin’ to have a cock in his ass. You guys wanna fuck ‘im?”
“You think he’d be okay with that?” said Mark diffidently.
“You kiddin’?” Brent laughed again. “He’s a sissy! He needs cock in his ass. He lives for it.”
I felt a touch on my out-thrust butt, then a finger gently began stroking my tender anus. I had almost managed to stop gagging on the cock in my throat, but the unexpected distraction broke my concentration and I choked loudly. Brent’s cock was still growing, still getting longer and thicker, continuing to fill my throat with its fleshy mass.
“I’ll get the lube,” said Mark softly.
The finger continued to tickle my puckered bottom-hole, so I knew it was Mark’s friend, whose voice I still couldn’t place. After a minute I felt cold, slippery lubricant being rubbed onto my hole, and I felt it tense up in anticipation, knowing it was about to be penetrated. A few seconds later it was, a finger sliding easily up inside me, despite the way my anus was clenching. I shivered at the sensation of having a finger in me.
The finger slipped freely in and out of my bottom-hole, adding more lube each time. It poked around inside, like it was exploring, and I found myself wriggling my ass in response. I could hear Mark and his friend giggling each time his friend made me squirm with his finger. I was mortified.
It had to be because of the steel cage on my dick. I’d been wearing it for a whole week, getting hornier and hornier the whole time, without any relief. Apparently I was to the point now that I could no longer control my responses. The guy’s finger was driving me crazy, and the more it swirled around inside me, the more I wanted a cock in there. I had never been this horny in my life.
I heard Brent chuckle. “He’s ready for ya,” he said. “Sissies don’t need no foreplay. Stick your dick in him, already.”
The finger withdrew, and I felt the couch shift as someone behind me moved. I heard the rattle of a belt buckle, a zipper sliding down, the rustle of clothing. Soft whispers. Then the couch moved again, and I felt someone behind me, between my stockinged feet. A hand rested gently on the top of my butt, then I felt the tip of a cock against my anus. I didn’t know who it was, Mark or his friend, but I knew I was about to have a cock inside me.
Brent’s cock had crawled right down my throat. I didn’t know if it was fully hard yet, but it was blocking my breath now. I couldn’t breathe, and I started to panic. He was still holding my face firmly against his belly, the entire length of his massive cock down my throat. I began to struggle, making urgent noises that became no more than humming sounds by the time they’d gotten past my blocked throat.
With a chuckle, Brent relented, easing the pressure on the back of my head so I could back off a few inches. Once his fat cockhead was out of my throat I took a deep breath of sweet, sweet air, and then another. Then his hand pressed my head back down into his lap, driving his massive cock back down my throat. I managed to swallow it without gagging this time. He pulled my face in tight against his hard belly, making sure that every inch of his cock was buried in my throat. He held it there for a long, long moment, then he began to slowly fuck my throat, withdrawing at far as the back of my tongue with each out-stroke so I could catch a breath of air, then driving all the way back in once more.
Meanwhile, the cock pressing against my anus suddenly surged forward as the tight sphincter gave way, and I let out a muffled yelp as my rectum was abruptly filled with warm, eager cock. It paused for only a moment before sinking slowly deeper, pushing its way into the depths of me. I whined and shivered as I was impaled. My anus was still spasming in pain as bare hips pressed against my bottom-cheeks.
“I’m all the way in,” whispered Mark’s friend. “Damn… he’s hot and tight. I think he might even be as tight as you.”
Mercifully, my violated anus stopped spasming as he began fucking me. He started slowly, sliding the whole length of his cock in and out of me. It still hurt, but I wanted it. I whined and whimpered, but I wanted that cock inside me more than anything. As he fucked me, I could feel my desire for submission rising. I embraced it, waiting for it to take me the way it had last Saturday.
I had only discovered my submissive desires a week ago, but it had been the most powerfully erotic sensation I had ever experienced. And I wanted to feel it again. I wanted the feeling of being used for someone else’s pleasure, of surrendering my body to others. I had Brent’s cock slowly but firmly fucking my throat, and someone else fucking my helpless bottom, yet the feeling I remembered was slow in coming. Perhaps I was inhibited by the knowledge that Mark was watching. With our complicated history, it was hard to lose myself in the moment. I kept wondering what he thought, even though I knew he didn’t know who I was.
Brent continued to fuck my throat, fucking in and out slowly, lazily. His cock was so long and so thick, every stroke was an ordeal, and I had to swallow hard with each inward stroke to keep from gagging again. At the same time, the cock in my bowels was beginning to move faster, and it seemed to be getting bigger, as well. It was overwhelming, taking cock from both ends like this.
Suddenly there were fingers delicately caressing my balls. The distraction was enough to upset the precarious timing of my swallows, and I choked on Brent’s cock again as it plunged back into the depths of my throat. I knew it had to be Mark tickling my balls, and the knowledge triggered complex emotions.
“He can’t get hard inside that cage, can he?” Mark asked softly.
“Nope,” said Brent. “He’d probably be hard as a fuckin’ rock right now if it weren’t for the cage.”
“It seems sort of… cruel,” said Mark. There was an odd, wistful note in his voice.
Brent must have noticed it too, because he chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cruel. But sissies love that shit.”
My confused, whirling thoughts settled on his words. Was he right? Did I love that shit? Did I crave cruelty, as Brent so casually proclaimed? My feelings protested, answering with a resounding “NO!” But as my emotions whirled around inside my head, I wasn’t as sure as I thought I was.
Strong hands gripped my hips as the thick cock inside my bottom began to fuck me harder. Brent’s cock slid slowly up and down my esophagus, only letting me breathe two or three times a minute, so I was light-headed, but at least I was no longer gagging. His big hand on the back of my head controlled me completely, pushing my face deep into his lap again and again. Mark’s fingers caressed my tender testicles a little more boldly.
The agonizing pleasure of taking a cock in my bottom seemed more intense, more overwhelming, than ever before. Was it because of the cock-cage, and the forced abstinence it imposed on me? I yearned desperately to have my cock touched, stroked, teased, anything, and that yearning grew as my arousal did. But nothing could touch my cock, I was denied that stimulation. I could only submit, I could do nothing but take cock, like the butt-boy Brent had made of me.
Before long, the cock in my bottom began pounding me hard and fast, making me wail helplessly. Brent’s massive cock still filled my throat, turning my desperate cries into a muffled humming that could easily be ignored. Finally I heard the guy behind me groan in pleasure as he filled my bowels with his hot cum. When he was done, he withdrew his wet, softening cock, leaving my hungry hole feeling soft, vulnerable and…empty.
“You done already, Reggie?” said Mark from close beside me.
Reggie! That’s who the other guy was. Reggie Schaefer had been part of the jock crowd during our junior year in high school, and for a time he had been one of Brent’s circle of friends. He had bullied me a few times, but only when Brent was around. By our senior year Reggie had quit sports, and stopped hanging out with the bully crowd. Since he was no longer one of the bullies, he stopped being one of the guys I had to avoid, and pretty much fell off my radar. Somehow he had ended up with Mark, yet still had some kind of relationship with Brent. I remembered him as an olive-skinned, curly-haired guy in a letterman’s jacket, somewhat smaller and less muscular than Brent and his football buddies. I’d hated him, of course, but not nearly as vehemently as I’d hated Brent. And now I had his semen in my bowels.
“Yeah,” said Reggie, panting a little, a quizzical tone in his voice. “I know, I usually last longer than that. Something about the sissy being all cuffed up and hooded and helpless like that…I dunno. I felt like I could do anything I wanted to him, and it didn’t matter ‘cuz he’s just a sissy. Made me hot. Made me wanna fuck him really hard.”
“My turn,” said Mark, and I felt him climbing onto the couch behind me.
Mark’s cock was rock-hard as it slid into my bottom-hole. I groaned, but since Brent’s cock was still filling my throat it came out as a hum. Mark moaned softly as his shaft sank all the way up inside me.
“Aw fuck,” he said breathlessly. “So hot and tight…”
I could hardly believe how good it felt to have Mark’s cock inside me. It wasn’t as large as Reggie’s, but it was still big enough. Maybe part of the pleasure was knowing that it was Mark fucking me, I don’t know. I wasn’t very coherent by this point.
Mark began slowly, with deep, long strokes. Gradually he accelerated, until within a few minutes he was hammering into me as hard as he could. He’d stop every time he got close to cumming, trying to make it last as long as he could.
This went on for a while, and somewhere in the middle of it Brent shot his load into the back of my throat. When he finally withdrew his long, wet cock from my throat it was a tremendous relief. Panting, finally able to breathe again, I buried my head in the couch cushion and thrust my ass out as far as I could for Mark. He spun out the fucking for as long as he could manage, but eventually he, too, shot his semen into me.
I felt a strange sense of fulfillment afterward. All three of them, including Mark, had cum inside me, and sat around me now, recovering. I remained as I had been left, my face and knees on the couch cushions, my butt in the air. I tried to swallow the sticky cum Brent had left in my throat without much success. I was still desperately horny, but all I could do was wait for someone to turn their attention back to me.
The three of them opened beers and sat drinking them, but nobody offered me a beer. I was, after all, only a nameless sissy. Mark was curious about this sissy Brent had brought, and sissies in general. As they talked, he began asking questions.
“Where did you find the sissy?” he wanted to know.
“Oh, you know, you can find them online,” said Brent evasively. “There are websites, and chat channels and stuff, where they get together.”
“But where is this one from?”
“Well, you know, I didn’t really ask,” Brent hedged. “We agreed to meet, and the rest is history.”
“But what’s he like?” Mark pursued. “Could you tell he was a sissy just by looking at him?”
“He was a little femmy,” said Brent. “But I couldn’t really tell how submissive he was until I started playing with him.”
“What does he look like? Could he pass for a girl if he wanted to?”
“I don’t think he really wants anyone to know who he is. He’s only a sissy, but if he wants to stay anonymous, I respect that.”
Mark was genuinely curious, but Brent was toying with him, lying and being evasive. As they were talking, I began to realize something. Mark’s curiosity about me was familiar. I had been fascinated, almost obsessively curious, about the anonymous sissy at Brent’s party. I hadn’t really understood why, but Brent had known why. He’d recognized that the sissy’s situation, his submission and his status as a helpless sexual object, had struck a chord within me, playing on my own hidden submissive desires. Then he’d used those perverse desires to enslave me.
Now, here I was being presented as a faceless submissive sissy, and my condition was intriguing Mark in the same way. Brent was using me to seduce Mark! I was suddenly sure of it!
I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let my old friend end up like I was, a helpless slave to a cruel bully. I had to stop it from happening.
With a bit of squirming, I managed to get my knees under me and lift my body up into an upright position. I turned my head in the direction Mark’s voice was coming from, and I cried out, “Mark, no! Don’t let him trick you! You’ll end up a slave like me!”
Well, that’s what I tried to say. With the plastic tube holding my mouth open, I couldn’t articulate consonants, and my brave warning came out as a series of indecipherable noises.
“What does he want?” Mark asked after a long moment.
Brent laughed. “I know what he wants,” he said. “He can’t stand it when nobody’s paying attention to him. I know just what he needs.”
The couch lurched and sagged right in front of me, and then strong hands lowered me, face-down, across a lap. “I know, I know,” said Brent, arranging me so that my bare butt was centered on his lap and lifted by his raised knee. “This’ll make you feel better.”
His right hand came down hard on my naked bottom, a resounding crack echoing through the room. The stinging pain was too much to bear, and I squealed helplessly, my body arching, my legs kicking wildly in the air. Before I had even stopped squealing his hand came down again, just as hard, on the other cheek. He just kept going from there. He was spanking me so hard and so fast that I couldn’t catch my breath between swats. It was brutal.
He knew. Brent knew that I knew what his game was, and this was his way of shutting me up before Mark figured out that I was trying to warn him.
The spanking went on for a long time, the rhythm unbroken. I howled and kicked helplessly, bouncing all over his lap, my bottom-cheeks blazing, but nothing I did could stop it. After a few minutes I was sobbing. He kept it going for another minute after that before he finally stopped. I cried and squirmed like a child in his lap, and he rubbed my burning butt with soothing strokes.
“There you go… there you go…” he said in a soothing voice.
“Wow,” said Mark breathlessly.
“Sissies need discipline sometimes,” said Brent. “They crave it, and they’ll even misbehave to get it. But I find they’re much happier after a good hard spanking.”
This story ended up being really long, so I split it in half to post it, so it wouldn't get mangled. To read the rest, look for "Anonymous 3 Part 2."