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Message-ID: <37330asstr$1026814202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Reply-To: "Trader_32" <Trader_32@yahoo.com>
From: "Trader_32" <Trader_32@yahoo.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 15 Jul 2002 16:59:39 CDT
Subject: {ASSM} Story: Str8 Guy Forced to Take Anal Beads (Chapter V)
Date: Tue, 16 Jul 2002 06:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

I'd love to hear feedback/comments on the story.  I've also attached a pic
of a guy I think would be a good "Brent."  Please email me your comments as
well as any pics you have of guys you think would be good in this role (or
the role of the wrestler in this chapter).  Trader_32@yahoo.com.


Brent's wrists were growing red, but I had left enough room to be sure not
to cut off his circulation.  The drops of sweat running out of his hairy
pits turned into streams as his anxiety level rose.

"Ah... I think... I... ah... really need to take a shit...," he said with a
mixture of humiliation and discomfort.

"No you don't," I said.  "That's just the preparatory ball you feel.  It's
going to release a cream which will dilate your sphincter so you're not
ripped open
when you swallow the other balls."  I found that straight boys loved it when
you used words like "swallow" and "rip" when describing the movements of
their assholes.

Brent turned pale, like he was going to be sick.  I didn't tell him that the
small ball was also coated with a special cream developed by a defunct drug
company in a first attempt at a Viagra-like substance.  Unfortunately, it
was banned by the FDA, because it caused the penis to fill with 1/3 more
blood than it would normally hold, which caused a terribly painful erection
the bearer would do about anything to get rid of.  The test subjects
literally began masturbating furiously within classrooms, restaurants and on
buses and it sometimes took multiple orgasms to achieve a release from the
pain.  I had acquired a small jug of the precious cream from a friend whose
company was supposed to dispose of it.

"Do you like sports?" I asked, watching his mostly limp, ring-bound cock
showing signs of life.

"Yea... I'm a Yankees fan..." he said distantly, staring down at his penis
with a curious look on his face, as though he had just noticed the pee hole
for the first time.

I pretended not to notice how his cock had quickly become rock hard and
pointed just slightly to the left.  The large head was turning from red to a
dark purple and the lips of his urethra were swelling and gaping.  He
started to squirm.  Still acting oblivious, I tugged on the cord running out
of his ass, pulling the ball out slightly.  He barely noticed the burning in
his anus and was fixated on his throbbing shaft, which bounced with his
every heartbeat.  Darkening veins which covered his penis like a web
contrasted with the white skin.

"Uh...."

"Yes?" I asked, glancing up at his face from my work on the ball in his
butthole.

"Would you mind jacking my cock?" he asked with a growing sense of urgency.
(I loved his politeness.)

"What?!" I responded with a forced look of disgust.  (I could only imagine
the laughter of my viewing clients.)  "I'm sorry, Brent, but that was not a
part of our deal."

Brent quickly raised his hips about 2 inches off the table as though he were
doing crunches.  His stomach muscles tightened.  I guessed that in his
desperation he was trying to fuck the air, hoping something warm, wet and
feminine would magically appear around his aching shaft.

"Listen man!," Brent pleaded, "I would never ask a guy this, but PLEASE...
JACK MY DICK!  JACK MY DICK!"  He continued in the "crunch routine", rapidly
pumping his hips into the air.  The metal ring around his shaft and the
leather harnesses which held his nuts apart only added to the misery.  I
grabbed the harness with my fingertip and held it in place so that each
thrust of his hips would further stretch his already shiny scrotum.

"I don't know, Brent.  That really wasn't part of the deal, and I had no
idea that you'd be so turned on by all this.  I'm not really into jacking
off guys."

"Then unlock my hands! Unlock my hands!!

"I can't do that, Brent, cause your male instinct will be to pull the ball
from your ass which could cause permanent damage."

I decided to give him a few seconds of relief and gripped the base of his
shaft between my thumb and index finger and squeezed it hard, moving up from
the base to the throbbing head.  A large blob of clear juice oozed out of
his penis hole and dripped into his belly button.  Brent watched me
carefully, his eyes wide, hoping that I'd stroke his aching meat. Instead, I
reached down and picked up his cotton briefs by the blue and gold striped
waist band.  They seemed to be stretched-out and fraying around the leg
openings and had been clearly worn by him for a number of years.  Size
32-34.  His wife probably bought them for him in a three pack.  I turned
them in my hand until I found the pouch, which was stained with a slight
yellowish tint.  I rubbed the yellowish-white cotton along his belly,
soaking up as much precum as I could.  He continued his thrusting motions,
and I enjoyed feeling his abs tense and relax through the fabric.

I made a sizeable part of my fortune from selling these kind of momentos.  I
estimated that his cum-stained briefs, with a complementary video of his
performance, would net about $8,000.  In fact I was once able to purchase a
new car with the cash I made selling the foreskin of a young man from New
Jersey who was recently married and a cadet at the Naval Academy.  He had
come to the Academy the year before on a wrestling scholarship and had one
of the most perfect bodies I had ever seen.  He had a heavy and rough NYC
accent, jet black hair, ice blue eyes, washboard abs, and a thick meaty cock
with a flap of dark skin that hung down about an inch beyond the limp head.
I can't say he parted easily with that piece of his manhood, and I've always
wondered how he explained its disappearance to his wife.  I sold the sailor
uniform he wore to the session for 15 grand, and threw in the gray Hanes
boxer briefs and white undershirt without charge.  You should've seen the
look on his face two weeks later when he walked onto the mat at a match --
wearing a tight singlet which showed off his  dark tits, bubble butt and
hairy muscular legs -- and looked up into the stands and saw me sitting
beside his clueless wife.  I guess that's a story I can tell
another time, if you're interested.

Brent seemed to forget about the hard little object up his butt and the cord
hanging out of his anal lips, which had already opened about a half an inch
exposing the ball. I pressed my pinky against the rubber and forced it back
up -- as deeply as my finger would go -- into his bowels.  The cord snaked
up with it.

With my other hand, I let go of his engorged shaft, which felt so
frighteningly rigid that it would snap if slightly bent, and concentrated on
soaking the briefs in the stream of clear goo drizzling from the swollen
purple lips.  Not only would Brent's semen greatly raise the value of the
briefs, but the buyer
would most likely use the DNA evidence to convince the young man to perform
at parties, father children, and anything else naked straight boys were good
for.

"Please, man, please," he begged.  For the first time, I though that this
muscular, beefy, young, married, father-of-two would cry.

"Just tell me this," I asked.  "Did you ever use your precum on girls
without them knowing about it?"

"Please, man!  Come on!!  I can't take it anymore!"

"Brent, you can tell me.  I don't care.  I've got all the time in the
world," I said calmly.

"Ok! Yes, I rubbed it up their pussies when they didn't know!  Now jack me
off! JACK ME OFF!"

I grabbed Brent's throbbing cock with my hand but held it still.  "How did
you do that, Brent?  That doesn't seem very nice."

He was almost screaming.  "WHEN WE WERE MAKING OUT IN THE DARK, I'D JACK MY
DICK TO GET THE CUM ON MY FINGERS AND THEN PUSH IT UP THEIR PUSSIES OR OVER
THEIR TITS!!!  JACK ME OFF!! JACK ME OFF!!"

"Now, we're getting somewhere, Brent" I smiled as my hand lightly stroked
his penis.  I occassionally stopped and dabbed his ballsack juice with his
underwear then resumed the up and down action.  He calmed down considerably
and partly closed his eyes.  Yet, he continued to pump his cock between my
fingers, and I assumed that he was fantasizing about a wet young cunt.  He
didn't even notice when I wrapped my lips around the head of his shaft and
tasted the juice from his tied nuts.  Mostly salty, but a little sweet.  For
a minute, I wondered how many people across the country would drink from the
same stream, once he began his new -- double -- life.


<image removed>

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