Up The Creek

Up the Creek

Kingsley has to attempt a rescue when his husband gets a tiny hookup too deep.

Kingsley could hear music upstairs as he unlocked the door. He dumped his jacket over the bannister, kneeling down to pull off his shoes. Straight onto the shoe rack. There was an extra pair of men's shoes, lost between a couple of Asim’s trainers. A fraction of the size.

“I forgot he had a date over.” He called up the stairs. “Anybody home?” Hurried footsteps. A big, broad form appeared at the top of the stairs. Kingsley grinned.

“Hey, love. Where are your trousers?” Asim’s eyes were worried. He moved fast, thundering down the stairs. Kingsley caught him in his arms, looking him up and down. “Hey. Slow down. What's wrong?”

“Um. Really sorry. I lost a little man up my ass.” Kingsley snorted, his shoulders relaxing.

“You had me worried for a second. Again, love? Is that whose shoes are at the door?”

“Yeah. Can you, uh. Try to fish him out?”

“Hmm. How long ago was it?” Had Asim even tried to rescue him on his own? He was already wearing briefs.

“Only like ten minutes.”

“I might still be able to get him. How tiny we talking? Strong enough to put up a fight?” Asim scratched his head.

“Not really. I was just, you know. Letting him eat my ass. He wasn't very deep. He was just really enthusiastic, and I thought it would be harmless if I let him just put a hand in.” He had a bottle of lube in his hands. Kingsley took it. “And then it was a second. I know I should have told him off, but it felt good. And then he was inside, and it was kind of like, you know. He was already in, I might as well enjoy it. And then by the time I was done he was too deep for me to reach.” Kingsley rolled up his sleeves. 

“That’s fine, though, right? It's not as if he'll get hurt.”

“Yeah, but - he didn't sign up for - you know. My guts doing their thing. Things could get a bit messy if I can't get him out.” The lube was cold over his hands. He rubbed it between his palms and starting smearing it up and down his forearm.

“Alright. Assume the position. Let's see if I can pull him out.” He took off his ring as Asim pulled down his briefs. He had made that mistake before. “How small, then? That little six footer you keep on banging on about?” Asim got on his knees at the base of the stairs, looking over his shoulder. Despite the situation, it was a good view. Thick, hairy legs. Meaty glutes. Heavy balls dangling.

“Yeah. About six foot. Dale. You remember him?” Kingsley tugged his cheeks apart and winced. Smelly bastard.

“Whether I find him or not, you need a shower before we eat.” He probed around in the maze of stinking hair. Asim’s hole was easy enough to find. He wasn't exactly tight. Not everyone could lose an entire person up their ass, however tiny. “Dale is the IT guy, right?”

“Yeah! He's really cute. Barely reaches my shins, but he makes up for it in enthusiasm.” Kingsley tugged at a puffy hole.

“Mm. He sounds sweet. Let's have a look.” There was no sign of him from the outside. It wasn't really a surprise, there was no way Asim's ass would have left him on the surface for so long. “You remember we're ordering Italian later?”

“Yeah, I remember. Sorry. I was just gonna let him finish and send him home so I could get ready. Things just got too heavy.” Kingsley pointed his fingers into a familiar position. Asim’s hole parted around him. Into the darkness. A slow, careful advance deeper.

“Hmm. You want him to stay over?” Asim let out a happy exhale.

“Well - fuck, that feels good. Maybe. If you like him.” Kingsley was already up to his knuckles. He carefully twisted his hand around. No tiny man in Asim's rectum. He had already been swallowed deeper.

“Let's see if I can find him first. He might just have to stick it out.”

“Oh, but I'm gonna feel bad if that h - fuck, babe. If that happens.” Asim's hole squelched around his wrist as he got deeper.

“Please. You love little men up your ass.” Asim shuddered around him.

“Yeah, but - like I said. That wasn't - it wasn’t the plan.”

“Before arms started going up holes, huh?” There was something there. Rough fabric. Denim. He pulled it out. Slow and patient. The muscle let him go with a squelch. He inspected his find. A slimy little pair of jeans. “Hmm. I found trousers.” Asim looked over his shoulder.

“Fuck, they're his. Is he too far in?”

“Hold on. I haven't gone deep yet.” He flexed his wrist. “Ready for me to go back in?” Asim glanced over his shoulder. An eager smile.

“Yessir.”

“Calm down, love. We’re not doing a proper scene. This is a rescue mission.” He slowly buried his fist further in. A pleasurable grunt from Asim. He chuckled. “Feels good?”

“Really good. Sorry.”

“I'm not mad at you. I just want to keep track of what I’m here for.” He felt around. Muscle flexing around him. Asim shivered, a moan of pure pleasure. Then Kingsley nudged something. A small form. It twisted at his touch. Something latched desperately onto his fingers. He chuckled.

“There we go. Think I have him.” Asim let out a sigh. Pleasure or relief, it was hard to tell. “Let me pull him out slow so he can hang on.” He started to withdraw. Slowly, his forearm emerged, slimy with mucus. He frowned. The little man's grip didn't feel very secure. He probably needed to hold on himself. “Give me a moment. Let me - fuck.” The little hands around his fingers were gone. Swallowed up again inside Asim. “I lost him. Where are you, lad?” Asim's voice rose.

“I thought you had him?” Kingsley snorted, flexing his hand.

“Don’t get pissy with me. This isn’t my fault.” A deep breath.

“Sorry, babe. I just - you know. Feel guilty. And I don't want to scare him off.”

“It’ll be fine. He wouldn’t have volunteered to eat you out if he didn't like a bit of filth. I think the suction was just too much for him to deal with.” He reached back in. Deeper and deeper, trying not to be too rough on Asim. Was the little man gone? He frowned. Asim groaned roughly. Big toes curled. Kingsley grinned. If the worst came to the worst, at least him and the Asim could have some fun. Before he could make the call, he found the form again. He grabbed on before it sunk deeper. It shifted a little. He breathed out.

“There we go. That's a leg.” Unlike the little man, Kingsley wasn't completely at the mercy of Asim's bowels. He braced and pulled. Steady squelching. Warm, wet walls, pulsating around his arm. Back outside. His hand was easy enough to pull out. Then sloppy muscle clenched over little calves. It was amazing how much Asim could tighten up when there was a little man to tyrannise. Slowly, reluctantly, Asim's hole let him pull a small form out, clamping wetly over every muscle and joint. Mucus and filth, coating every inch. He chuckled. That was satisfying. Asim moaned as the lad started to emerge.

“Holy shit. That feels good.”

“Stop clenching. You're gonna suck him back in.”

“I know. That would be bad, right?” Kingsley gave his ass a slap. Satisfying ripples in fat and muscle.

“You tell me.” A fuzzy little torso. Finally, a face. Asim's hole squelched around it until Dale was finally free. Kingsley sat him up, examining the little form. A hairy little man. Slimy with mucus, mind visibly blown by his ordeal. Asim turned around, ignoring the filth as he pulled the little man into his arms.

“Dale! You ok? I thought I lost you there. I was worried I wasn't gonna see you till tomorrow.” A weak little splutter. “I know, buddy. Sorry about that. We both got a bit carried away. Oh, hang on. This is my husband Kingsley. Kingsley, this is Dale.” Kingsley scanned the little man up and down. 

“Asim was right. You do have pretty eyes.” He offered a hand.

“Um. I'm… dirty.” 

“I know, lad. I just pulled you out with this hand. Don't sweat it.” He enveloped the little man's hand, trying not to crush him as he shook it. “Me and Asim are ordering some food. Let's take a shower, then you can join us.” The little man still seemed like he was on a different plane of existence. Asim half-propelled, half-carried him off, the little man stumbling in front of him. Kingsley stretched as he entered the bathroom behind them, ruffling a slimy little head of hair. “Still shellshocked? You'll be alright. No harm done.”

“Well, I was - inside a person. Inside Asim.” Asim crouched down and gave him another hug.

“I know, buddy. Really sorry. You were doing such a good job, and I just didn't stop you when I should have. You would have come out eventually, it just might have been… dirty.” The little man blinked. 

“You weren't kidding when you said I would need a change of clothes.”

“No, buddy. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. Then I want the two of you to get to know each other.”

Acclimatisation #2

The human learns some discipline.

Barric found his human exactly where he thought he would be. The market stall. He watched the little man across the street for a moment. Still attractive. The human rubbed his throat with a wince. Barric frowned. It made sense. Getting used to sucking orc cock would take time. Barric would teach him something different this time. He sauntered over. A journey of different facial expressions as the little man looked up. He attempted to settle into a surly glare. Barric gave him a friendly grin.

“Hello.” His accent had never been very good. “You are free?”

“Later.” Barric's brow furrowed. “The evening.” Lust, layered beneath an attempted growl.

“Ah. Towards night. Hmm. There is-” he frowned. “Camp. Orc camp.”

“I’ve seen it.” Something else in his language. It would be nice to understand each other, but that would solve itself with time.

“When the sun sets. Come.” He headed off. A glance over his shoulder caught eyes fixed on him. Barric winked at him and he went red, scowling and looking away. Hours passed. Barric sharpened his axe. He cut down a couple of trees. He washed the sweat off in the river, dozed off in his tent, woke up again. He took a look outside. The sun was low in the sky. Would the little man have the balls to turn up, or would Barric have to track him down? He wasn’t against a hunt. Outside his tent, there was a clear view of the town up the river. At first, he saw nothing. Then he remembered who he was looking for and angled his field of vision down. There. Looking bewildered, staring around like he wanted a fight. Barric waved at him. The man marched towards him. All square shoulders and angry little glare. It had been endearing at first, but the human was testing his luck now. Barric had to establish some proper rules. As he passed the oxen, the little man looked up. Brief curiosity. Orcish oxen were far bigger than any human livestock. Barric didn't particularly want to introduce him to them immediately. He would probably try to assert his dominance and get his chest caved in. Soon they were at Barric's tent. He lifted the entrance to let the man in. A rebellious look. Barric narrowed his eyes, ferrying him in, then sat down on the floor. He watched. The human glared expectantly. Barric sized him up, considering his next move. He had used the front end. Perhaps it was time for the back. He pulled down the little man's breeches. An angry grunt. Small hands pulled them up. Barric frowned. That was enough. He was annoyed. It was time for someone to learn his place.

Barric pulled over a stool and sat down. He reached down beneath his furs. A brief tug and his loincloth was in his hands. The little man swallowed. His eyes fixed on the stained cloth. Barric offered it to him, reverting back to Orcish. “You want it?” Hesitance. He wrapped it around his forearm for a moment. He extended a free hand, motioning at the little man. Confusion. “Your hand.” Blank expression. He leaned forward and grabbed a small wrist, placing it face up on his own. Still surly, but the little man didn’t pull back. Barric grabbed his other hand, placing them both on his palm, lining up the human’s wrists. He held up the loincloth again. Red on the little man’s face. Humiliation. Watching the man’s natural submission fight with shame and pride wasn't pretty. Barric took a deep breath of the stained fabric, grinning at the pure strength of his stink. He offered it to the little man. The same stupid turmoil. “Suit yourself.” Barric closed his fingers over the human’s wrists. Gentle enough that he didn’t run away. Carefully, he laid sweaty fabric over the little man’s wrists. Brief disgust gave way to raw arousal. His eyes were fixed on Barric’s dirty loincloth, laying over his hands. Even with open permission, he was resisting it. Barric grumbled. Slowly, he wrapped the loincloth around the little man’s wrists. Mild confusion. He crossed the two ends over each other, then folded one under the other. The little man was too lost in his ridiculous little inner battle to process what was going on. A smooth tug. An easy second circle around his arms as he started to react and a second knot before he could get away. Barric let him stumble back, rage in his eyes as he looked at his bound hands and then back up at Barric. “Are we going to do this the easy way?” He didn’t need to understand him to know the answer to that one. The little man looked around wildly. Barric yawned, watching him. A step towards the tent exit. Then he looked back. Shame, perhaps. Running out of an orc camp with his hands bound in Barric’s loincloth wouldn't fit in with his attempted image. Now there was anger. Growling and spitting. Barric watched him patiently. It wasn’t the little human’s fault. Clearly, no one had ever taught him better. The human pulled at his bonds. It was a simple knot. All he needed to do was tug at it with his teeth, but of course he was too proud to put his mouth on Barric’s loincloth. Finally, he seemed to run out of steam a little. Barric patted his knee. A grimace. Too much lust to pull away, too much pride to let himself get what he needed. Barric reached out again. A little hop away. “I’m not doing anything.” Eventually, the little man seemed to understand that there wasn’t an immediate threat. He stepped back into Barric’s reach. Barric wrapped his hands around his hips. The human wasn’t a small one. That, however, was not saying much in front of an orc. A breathless inhale. Barric drew him in gently this time. If he had known the little man had so much built-up shame, he would have gone slower when they first met. Once he had the human close, he raised a pit, pulling him in. A hand on his head gave the little man an excuse not to fight it. A small nose took a deep breath of his stink. He chuckled. “We’re getting there.”

Now it was time for the main event. First, he crouched down. One hand on a foot, the other tugging down his wrists. The human willingly stepped over his bound hands, breathing shallow as he stood back up. Wrestling a human over his knee was hardly a difficult task for Barric. There was struggling, but the little man’s hands were already tied. He didn’t pose much of a challenge. Barric pinned two wrists to the base of a small back. More or less immobilised. A few kicks. Weak. He pulled down the human's breeches again. Toned cheeks. There was no point dragging it out. Barric laid a blow over his ass. A yelp. He went rigid. Instant reaction from his cock, rubbing against Barric’s knee. That would help. It would sharpen the humiliation. The little man’s pride was a particularly bad case, but he had seen this problem before. A firm hand would fix it. Barric would give him plenty of aftercare and then they could carry on as planned. He didn’t go too hard. Just a series of short, open-palm blows. Steady redness building on his lap. He rumbled appreciatively. A few more strikes for good measure. The kicking slowly stopped as the little man realised he couldn’t fight it. Stifled yelps. The odd attempted curse. Barric picked up his waterskin, making sure to pour some down the little man's throat as well. Then he got back to the business at hand. Quiet, now. He still tried to stifle his yelps. Barric took pity on him, putting a leather band into his mouth so he had something to bite down on. The immediate problem of his disobedience seemed to have calmed down. Muscles tensed as Barric raised his hand. Expectant shivering. Then Barric brought his palm down. Soft human flesh, bouncing at the moment of impact. The shockwave up and down the little man’s body as he processed the pain. A snuffle at Barric’s thigh, the little man searching for a proper breath of his stink.

“Much better.” Barric was satisfied. He let the little man up, examining him as he stood up. Rock hard, cheeks glowing from the indignation. He couldn't meet Barric's eyes. Barric grasped his chin, twisting him around until he saw vulnerability in his eyes. The lesson had been learned. Barric pulled him in for a cuddle, sitting him on his knee. A wince as he sat down. Barric untied his hands slowly. Small fingers flexed. Barric folded up his loincloth and held it out. “Sniff.” No more resistance. The human breathed in deep, huffing Barric’s stink, clinging to the massive hand over his face. Barric wrapped his arm around the little form, pulling out his dick. It was easy enough to make him spill. The human slumped against Barric's chest, exhausted. Barric laid him face down among his furs, rubbing salve onto his red backside. A couple of rebellious little mutters, but no physical challenge. Good enough. He fell asleep quickly, slumped over Barric’s chest.

Living Arrangements

The changing room was mostly empty this early in the morning. Just two men, side by side. One glanced at the other. “Hey. Bryce. The little guy. Have you got him today?”

“Of course I have. I don't let him out of my reach at his size.” He fished around in his jock, pulling out a tiny form. Beet red, covered in Bryce’s sweat. A nervous little squeak. He tried to cover himself. The brute ignored him, sitting down and landing him on his hefty bulge. Huge hands prodded him carefully around. The first man sat down next to them, looking down in fascination.

“Where did you get him?”

“The asswipe was my apprentice before he shrunk. Early twenties when I met him. I was fond of him. Not too bright, but he worked hard. Sweet kid. Gave me a bit of attitude, but he always made up for it. Ain’t that right, boy?” Bryce tapped a tiny shoulder, sending the little man tumbling onto his thigh. A big hand caught him and propped him back up. “We caught the virus, got confined together, he got shrunk and I was fine. Bit of a mess with his family, I ended up with custody. His request. Now he's my boy.”

“I always wanted a little man. Cute as fuck. Are you allowed to keep him like this?”

“Yeah. So long as he's safe and healthy, anything goes. He likes my stench, I like my crack licked clean, it's a good match.” Huge fingers rubbed a miniature chest.

“Can I say hello?”

“Fine. Boy. This is Tariq. Say hello.” A tiny squeak. It was hard to make out the exact words, but he seemed in good spirits.

“Hi buddy. You doing ok?” A tiny thumbs up. Tariq grinned. “Alright. I want one.”

“Find your own. He's mine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Can I hold him?”

“Hmm. Hold out your hand.” The tiny weight of his body might as well have been a mouse in Tariq's hands. He grinned.

“Oh, he's fucking cute.” He ran a finger over a small head. Fuzzy. Damp with Bryce's sweat. He bounced the little man in his palm and Bryce growled.

“Don't be rough. He's not yours to throw around.”

“I'm not trying to mess with you, brother. I just want to see what it's like having a little man.” Bryce watched him like a hawk. “Does he have a name?”

“Dario. But he answers fine to boy or asswipe.” Tariq turned him over. He prodded the little man's legs apart. A tiny squeak. Bryce plucked the little man out of his hands. “Enough of that. You want any more, find your own.”

“How do I get one, though? You got lucky.” Bryce turned his tiny man over, spitting on his thumb and rubbing a patch of dirt on his back. “Get one to give you guardianship. That's the one thing he controls. Even this little man regularly registers as happy with his guardian, otherwise they would take him away.” Tariq looked down. He frowned. 

“Can you cover his ears a minute?” Bryce wrapped finger and thumb around a tiny head. Confused little movements.

“Can you… you know. Just sort of grab one? Is it legal?”

“Don't be a fuckin' savage.” Something in his expression said differently. The little man squeaked as a huge hand swept him up again. Bryce reached unceremoniously down the back of his sweats, stuffing in his little toy. Then he leaned in. “Alright. Listen. Kidnap is illegal.”

“What's the little man gonna do, snitch on us?”

“He's gonna sulk at me if he hears this, and I want my asscrack licked clean on the way home. This little bastard's strikes are a right pain in the arse.”

“Who wears the trousers here, you or him?” Bryce looked him dead in the eye. A loud fart. Tariq winced as the smell hit him. Was the boy even conscious after that? “Me, you prick. But I like my asswipe happy. Shut up and listen. If you find a tiny with a thing for big men, the police won’t give a shit if he goes missing. There are plenty of loopholes in the law when it comes to tinies.” Bryce paused for another stinking fart, grinding backwards. “Tiny logistics is a shitshow for the government. One less on their hands is doing them a favour so long as you’re not planning to hurt them.”

“No, no. I just want… a companion. Like yours.”

“Text me later. I know a guy who can help. Enough of that now. I want to give the asswipe a last breath of fresh air.”

“Yeah, let me see him again.” Bryce fished the little man out from his crack. The brute's sweat glistened on the tiny form. Weak, angry noises. Tariq watched, fascinated, as Bryce wrestled the little man with a finger.

“How do you normally communicate with him?”

“I got this fancy microphone that can pick him up at home. Most of the time he's just yapping. It's fine to leave him be so long as he's safe.” Something from beneath them. “Little brat, you are.” Tariq frowned.

“He gives you attitude?”

“Yeah. It's not like he can resist. He mouths off to feel better. Fine by me. So long as he keeps my foreskin licked clean.” Tariq reached for the little man again. Blocked by Bryce. He grumbled and stretched.

“Well, your daddy's got you on a tight leash.”

“Damn right I have. He's too small to go running off.” Even now, the little man was trapped behind huge fingers.

“Where does he go, though? There's got to be times it gets hard to be careful.”

“They're tough as shit. Little man's been everywhere. In my cock, up my arse. In my belly and through my guts. He always comes out fine. Happy, even. Little pervert loves it.” Tariq let out a jealous growl.

“Shit, I need one. Alright. Let's get going. You remembered your towel today?”

“The asswipe cleans me up. Tongue and hands.”

“That's one hell of a task for that little man.” Signs of inquisitive little movement before Bryce squashed the little man firmly into his crotch.

“He’s got time. Let’s get this show on the road. Say goodbye, asswipe.”

“Bye, sir!” A tiny squeak. Then he was back in a massive, sweaty hand and thrust into the depths of the stinking brute's underwear. Bryce stood up and squeezed his bulge, snorting.

“Pull day. Let's work hard. Give the brat plenty of stink to roll in.”

Acclimatisation

An orc gives a human a helpful lesson.

There was a certain kind of human that couldn't resist an orc. The man between Barric's legs was obviously a prime example. He had been a soldier at one point. Barric could see the kingdom's emblem tattooed on his shoulder. That didn't mean much now. The little man had given him puppy eyes from across the square. He had made an attempt to arrange it back into a glare when Barric met his eyes.  A few looks, a hand signal or two, and the little man had followed Barric out the square. Now they were in an empty stable. Barric was sitting on a bench, legs spread wide. The little man was on his knees in the straw with dirt on his breeches and Barric's fat cock in his mouth. A little tongue lapped at his dirty foreskin, licking up his filth. Barric patted his head, encouraging him to get stuck in. An orc was a lot bigger than the average human. He knew this. The little man knew this. Barric also knew that with a little patience, a little discipline, and a little gentleness, that wasn't an obstacle to a well-trained human. Very gently, he began to nudge his way into the man's mouth. Mild noises of indignation. The first step was to be strict. Barric held him there until the wriggling stopped and a little tongue started tasting again. Good. Barric was starting to get hard. He slowly filled up the man's mouth. Now the human was getting nervous again. Hold him still, pet his hair until he got used to it. Bury himself a little deeper. Soothe the accompanying nerves, feel the warmth of his throat as he pushed in again, repeat. A gag. He chuckled.

“It's alright.” Probably didn't understand Orcish. The back of a little throat. Barric waited a little longer, then he gripped the base of his thick cock and angled it down the best he could. A little further in. This bit was the hardest. He let the man gag it out, hushing him soothingly, until little lungs worked out how to take shallow breaths around him. Slowly, patiently, he filled up an expectant little throat with his cock. They were interesting things, humans. Oddly warlike in groups. But surprisingly well suited to companionship. Something about orcs in particular made their bodies respond a certain way. To adjust, essentially. It was fascinating to see it in action. Panic became regular nerves, then nerves cycled to mildly overwhelmed enjoyment, and then the little man was aroused again. Barric ruffled his hair. He was almost in now. A little nose buried itself in his bush, wrinkling. Barric felt his brow crease in amusement. He had been helping out the leatherworkers today. He wasn’t exactly smelling fresh after all that work. It would be fine. Orc stink was almost a drug to a human like this one. Barric started to move. Out by just an inch at first. Keep it slow. In carefully. Pick up the pace. Before long, he was fucking a little throat. The key was to hold the human in place. The back was different. Some proper preparation and a decent amount of lube went a long way. But the front needed care. Little necks were fragile. Being held in place made sure the little man wouldn't hurt himself and that Barric could get his pleasure uninterrupted. Little repetitive gags. It was always a little too much for them, really. But now the pleasure was in control, not the pain. The standard had been established, the little man knew his place, and Barric had free rein. The curve of his dick felt just right. He could feel the soft insides of the human's throat on every vein and pore of his thick cock. Finally, he came, filling up a little belly. He panted in pleasure, pumping a few last thrusts into the human's throat. That delicious feeling of his balls emptying into a willing receptacle. He held the little man there a little longer. That last pullout could be rough on a tired little throat. Barric liked to let himself soften first, it was gentler. He rubbed soothing circles over a small skull. He was a good little man. It was important to get that across. Carefully, gently, he began to pull out. Then he paused. His balls weren't the only thing that was full. He looked down. An obedient little blink, the human's attitude temporarily fucked out of him. He grinned and relaxed. His piss sprayed into the little man's throat. A surprised little splutter. He set a leg over the little man’s shoulder to make sure he didn't get any silly ideas. Barric exhaled in pleasure, holding his new toy in place, marking his territory. Angry little noises. Too much for him, of course. Barric chuckled as rancid yellow urine streamed out over a little chin. His tunic went from cream to dark yellowish-grey. Dripping from head to toe. It felt right. Barric made sure he pulled out before he was fully spent, smacking a little face with his limp cock. He stood up and looked down. Aim carefully. The last contents of his bladder drained over the little man's head. He couldn't have such an important part of him remain unmarked.  Then he was done. He tucked himself back into his furs. The human seemed too stunned to react. A look down at little hands, wet with stinking orcish urine. A puddle, staining the straw around his feet. Barric nudged his shoulder affectionately and wandered off. He knew where to find him, the little man worked at a stall in the market. Barric would be back. There was a lot more training to do, but it was a good start.

A friend of my dad’s is sitting in our living room when I come downstairs. 

He’s dressed in a Santa outfit. 

‘Mr Harris?’ I ask, bewildered. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Hey, son,’ he says, winking at me. ‘I know your parents aren’t around for the holidays and I had a spare key, so just wanted to stop in and see how you’re doing. You wanna come over here and tell Santa what you want for Christmas?’ 

I laugh and turn towards the kitchen. ‘No thanks, I’m 21. I think I’m a little old for Father Christmas, don’t you?’

‘Suit yourself,’ he says, and stands up and stretches. I hadn’t really noticed until now, but the suit is half unbuttoned, and I can see his big, hairy, powerful chest straining against it as he stretches. 

He catches me staring and I blush. 

‘Hehe,’ he chuckles. ‘You sure you don’t wanna come sit up on my knee, son?’ 

I hesitate. My mouth is dry. Secretly, I’ve had a crush on my dad’s friend for years but I never thought anything would ever come of it. 

‘At least tell me which list to put you on,’ he says as I walk slowly back toward him. 

‘List?’

He pulls me down onto his lap. ‘Naughty or nice’, he says. 

Firmly holding me on his lap, he slowly starts to bounce me up and down on his knee. 

‘N-naughty’, I stammer, looking into his eyes.

‘Yeah?’ He murmurs in my ear. ‘You been a naughty boy, have you, eh?’

‘Yes, Sir’, I choke out. I suddenly realise I’m rock hard. 

‘And what do you think naughty boys should get?’

He’s still moving his knee up and down so that I have to put my hand on his chest to steady myself. 

‘A spanking,’ I reply without thinking. 

He laughs, another dry, dirty chuckle. ‘Yeah? Over my knee for a good hiding, is that it, boy? I think we can do better than that. I think,’ he murmurs into my ear again, ‘bad boys like you need a good hard fuck. What do you say to that?’

I whimper a little as his hand strays towards my crotch. As he caresses the bulge in my jeans he says, ‘Oh, I don’t think you need to say anything at all.’ 

He orders me to strip and get on all fours. I hear the sound of a belt buckle coming undone behind me, and he says, ‘You ready for my cock, faggot?’

I nod imperceptibly. Before I know it, I feel his full weight on top of me and he gets a fistful of my hair and pulls gently, forcing me to arch my back. Again he speaks, low, into my ear. ‘When I ask you a question, boy, the answer is ‘Yes, Sir’. Is that clear, faggot?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ I reply instantly. 

‘Good’. Then the weight shifts slightly, and that’s when I feel his thick, hard cock resting in the cleft of my arse. ‘Now, why don’t you tell me where you want my cock, boy? Nice and loud.’

‘Deep up my faggot cunt, please, SIR!’ I shout. 

‘Yeah? That where you want it, boy?’ 

‘Yes please, Sir.’

‘Yeah? Bareback?’

‘YES SIR!’ I am trembling with anticipation.

‘Good boy. Here it fucking comes.’ 

He slides into my cunt, balls deep. ‘Thank you SIR!’ I scream. 

‘God, I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a couple of years now, son. Been biding my time. And now, here we are. Christ, that’s a tight cunt. You’re a virgin, ain’t’cha boy?’

‘Yes Sir,’ I reply, feeling him thrust into my hole. 

He chuckles again. ‘Yeah, just my fuckin’ type. Dirty whore.’ 

He keeps going, holding onto my hips and thrusting hard. Several minutes pass, during which he keeps pulling my hair to keep my back arched so he can thrust deeper into my cunt. 

‘You ready for me to flood your fucking guts for you, faggot?’ 

‘Yes Sir’, I reply, whimpering in pleasure.

‘Good, because I’m about three thrusts from breeding your cunt.’

I feel him thrust twice, and then he pulls out. I wait a second, then turn my head to look at him behind me. He’s breathing heavily, that gorgeous furry chest rising and falling.

‘What’s the matter?’ I ask. 

He looks me right in the eyes. ‘Beg for it, faggot. Beg me to breed that hole.’

I catch on quickly. ‘Please, Sir,’ I beg, giving him my best fuck-me eyes, ‘please dump that load up my faggot cunt. I need that fucking seed please Sir. Spunk in my fucking guts. Fucking knock me up, please Sir.’

He grabs hold of my hips and thrusts into my cunt, balls deep. As he thrusts, I tense and squeeze my arse muscles so I’m extra tight for him. 

‘Oh, you dirty little slut’, he mutters as he realises what I’ve done. And then, ‘FFFFFUUUUUUUUCK’, he shouts, and I feel him shoot his load deep in my arse. He thrusts a time or two more, just enough so he knows every last drop is dumped up my cunt, and then I feel him get off me. 

‘Thank you, Sir’, I say. He sits down on the chair again and pulls me onto his lap. 

‘We can’t tell your parents about this, boy. Not yet, at least. Understand?’

We’re kissing, deep and passionately. ‘Yes Sir,’ I reply. ‘Anything you say.’

‘So, have you learned your lesson, boy? You gonna be a good boy from now on?’

I smile cheekily at him, before saying ‘No. If anything, I’m gonna be as bad as possible.’ I reposition myself on his knee so I can duck my mouth down to his right nipple, which I start licking, sucking and lightly biting.

‘Then I guess I’ll have to keep fucking you, boy. Once a week at least, until - careful, boy. You’re going the right way for another good hard fuck.’

‘Mmm-hmm’, I murmur, my mouth still working his nipple while my hands explore that big, hairy chest. I slide off his knee, release his nipple from my mouth and say, ‘I’m counting on it.’ Then I kiss my way down his body until I’m kneeling in front of him. 

I look up. ‘The next load of cream you shoot is gonna be right down the back of my faggot throat, Sir. All over my fucking tonsils. I’ll swallow it all.’ 

‘Good boy,’ he says, and I feel his hands on the back of my neck, ensuring I won’t be going anywhere for a while. I open my mouth, and deep throat his thick cock. My hands instantly go to tug on his nipples while he fucks my throat. ‘Good fucking boy.’ 

Dom Quotes Season 2

Master Coles Crack Cleaner

"Fuuuckkk yeah...tongue that musky hole! Nothing better than a little submissive boy licking up my post gym sweat as I bounce on his face. Aww, are you struggling with the taste buddy? What did you think my hairy jock ass was going to taste like after leg day. Got another big fart coming up for you buddy, get your nose up close to my hole!! Let my ripe ass hairs tickle it as you dig deep for my fart. 3..2...1..Aww...fuck yeah that was a big one!" As Master Cole coats your tongue with his protein fart your hands start to slip from his beefy cheeks. After 20 minutes of lasting under his ass, his fart is what made you lose your grip. All you remember hearing is his laugh as his mighty cheeks clamped around your face and his hole around your tongue, securing your face in place with no way out. No, you just lay under his musky ass, hoping that he'd spare you from farts and allow you air before passing out.

Image from @Colecolossus on twitter