Joe rolled over in bed, his hard, hairy body sluggish in sleep. The phone on the nightstand was beeping an alert. Instantly, he was awake—albeit reluctantly; less than eight hours ago he’d been engaged in vigorous physical activity. But this might be work. In his line, he didn’t have a regular schedule. He was always on call.
Sitting up, he glanced down at the phone and realized it wasn’t his. The details of last night came flooding back to him. The little daddy’s boy faggot he popped. This was that kid’s phone. He’d taken some good shots of the corpse but hadn’t sent them to daddy yet. He’d planned to do that once he got home, but he was so worn out, he’d fallen asleep before he got it done.
Of course, he might have had time to get the pics sent if he hadn’t played around on the cunt’s phone, posting a couple of ads on the fag sex apps the little homo had on his phone. Stupid piece of shit hadn’t even bothered with any passwords, either. Joe was free to post whatever he wanted under the dead kid’s login.
That was what was happening now. There’d been a response. The original post had been a generic “looking for sex” note giving nothing more than physical stats and neighborhood (one a good half-hour from Joe’s actual residence).
Despite Joe’s lack of rest, his dick slowly swelled and jutted as he read the reply.
“hey man i aint been with a dude but I wanna try just turned 18 cant do anything at home HMU if you wanna meet but its gotta be public I don’t want no pervs”
Joe tamped his hypersexual excitement down and sent back a response, asking about the boy’s appearance. The teen sent back a selfie, showing a broad, grinning face with a large nose, big brown eyes with long lashes and curly hair nearly the same shade of brown. Only the top of the kid’s torso was visible, but it showed a smooth chest, lean but broad.
The alpha suggested a meeting in the area he’d mentioned in the post, at a coffee bar he’d passed on occasion. The kid agreed to the location, but asked that they meet that evening.
It seemed that over the holiday break, his parents had enrolled him in a draconian vacation bible school. Any absence would be reported to them. Afterwards, however, he could sneak out…
Joe grunted in frustration. He wanted the tender young cunt now—but there was nothing he could do about it. Stifling his anger, he agreed to meet the boy at ten o’clock that night.
But the little bible-thumping cumsucker was gonna pay for making him wait. In the meantime, he eased the sadistic beast within him by sending SWAT daddy the pics of his raped and murdered son…
Joe was in the parking lot at half-past nine, scoping the place out and waiting for the kid to show up. He wanted to see how the teen arrived—if he came by car, if he came alone—anything to let him know if it was safe to continue with his plans. Based on the punk’s response, Joe expected him to be alone, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
Laying the seat back, the buff alpha lit a cigarette as he waited. He cracked the window and exhaled the smoke, his thick black leather jacket letting him ignore the winter chill. The white thermal shirt stretched tightly across his broad chest helped insulate him as well, but he could feel the cool air descend over his legs. His black jeans were faded and worn, and skin-tight as they were, did little to keep out the cold.
He didn’t care. The heat welling angrily from his swollen crotch was enough.
He shifted his feet, his heavy leather engineer boots making scuffling sounds as the thick soles dragged on the floor mats. As his cigarette dwindled and he lit another, his impatience built. He’d fully expected the kid to show up at least a couple of minutes early, but it was just past ten now and the little piece of shit hadn’t shown up yet.
That didn’t bode well for the cunt’s immediate future.
Joe was just about to light yet another smoke when he saw the boy, walking quickly as he turned the corner from a side street. He was alone—stupid motherfucker, he was gonna regret that—and wore a gray fleece hoodie zipped up with the hood tightened around his head. Only his face was visible, with a few sandy locks on his forehead, but it was enough for Joe to recognize him.
He couldn’t see what the kid was wearing under the hoodie, but he had a taut pair of skinny jeans below, the pale brown material—almost the same color as his hair—cradling his rounded asscheeks. White, firmly-laced hightop sneakers completed his outfit.
Even from a distance, there was something in the kid’s face—or maybe it was something that wasn’t there…
He got out of the car, his black boots striding quickly across the asphalt as he intercepted the youth before he could get inside the crowded coffee shop. The odd impression of the boy’s face increased as he approached; after a moment, he recognized what he was noticing.
Innocence. The boy was sexually curious, but was utterly inexperienced in sex. The powerful sadist struggled to stifle an evil grin, but was unable to control the enlarging bulge in his groin. He was gonna enjoy destroying the unlucky kid. The punk had no idea what he was about to suffer.
“Hey,” he called out softly, “you’re late. Thought you were gonna be here at ten.”
The boy stopped and sized him up. The kid clearly liked what he saw. His jeans were just as incapable of hiding his erection as Joe’s were in his own case—two hard throbbing dicks visible as they looked at each other. Joe could see lust lighting the twink’s hazel eyes as they followed the contour of the older man’s thick hog, outlined in his crotch in tight denim.
The boy blinked. “Name’s Noah,” he gasped throatily before gulping nervously and holding out his hand.
Joe grinned easily. “I’m Trevor,” he replied. It didn’t matter if the punk new his real name or not, but Joe didn’t want anyone to overhear; there was a couple getting into a car a few feet away.
“Sorry I’m late,” Noah said sheepishly. “We were late getting back from bible study and it took my folks a while to get to sleep.”
“You had to sneak out?” Joe asked, careful to keep the contempt out of his voice.
“Yeah,” Noah admitted, blushing with embarrassment. “See, my folks are real strict and they’re real religious, too. I’m not allowed out alone after nine at night. And Dad takes the car keys with him when he goes to bed, so I had to walk. I mean, they don’t let me have a license, but I can drive.”
Joe chuckled silently to himself. “You couldn’t get a friend to give you a lift?”
Noah was horrorstruck. “Dude, all my friends are in the same church as me—they’d rat me out to my parents in a heartbeat! And if they knew I was meeting a strange man…” He broke off, the thought making him shudder. “Y’know, maybe I shouldn’t do this…”
“C’mon, man, you’re already here and no one knows,” Joe cajoled. “And I damn sure ain’t gonna say anything.”
Noah winced at the curse but seemed to consider the idea. Joe upped the ante. “Besides, I got a room at a motel halfway across town where nobody’s gonna know either of us.”
He had, too. It was a cheap, run-down place out on what had been the highway until the bypass was built. Now it was a rent-by-hour/day/week/month joint that served more as a flophouse to the locals. It was full of whores and drunks—but not, at least, bedbugs.
Before coming to the coffee bar, he’d driven there and given a tweaker forty bucks to rent a twenty-dollar room for the night. After, Joe pocketed the key, secure in the knowledge that the meth addict would take the change and get so wasted that within a couple of hours he’d be unable to remember who gave him cash for a room.
Noah hesitated, glancing uneasily through the window, as if making sure no one inside had recognized him. The kid was deep in the closet and scared as hell. Joe recognized the symptoms. He’d have to coax the little fuck gently, at least for a while. Once they got to the room, he’d have the cunt in his control.
The powerful alpha smiled charmingly at the skittish teen, his rugged, scruffy good looks adding irresistibly to the lure of his muscled body. Noah fought within himself, his fundamental Christian upbringing battling ferociously with his pure pig lust. The hormones pumping through his lithe teen body decided the issue.
“Ok, dude,” he muttered thickly as desire fogged his brain, “If no one’s gonna know, I guess it’s ok. But…but, y’know…I…I ain’t done anything like…well, like this, y’know?”
“It’ll be ok,” Joe grinned cheerfully, “after all, a little fun never killed anybody. C’mon, my car’s over there.”
The parking lot was empty by this time. No one saw the teen in the hoodie and the powerfully-built dude in leather and jeans get into the same car.
As his car headed north, then east through town, the buff sadist was surprised to feel the teen’s hand fumbling between his legs. The boy was anxious to fondle the older dude’s shaft. As Noah gripped the thick, denim-wrapped shaft, he inhaled shakily in lust and amazement; the strapping, mysterious stud was hung like a horse.
The naïve youth was enthralled; he had no actual experience with other men—not even in terms of porn; he’d had no unrestricted internet access. He had little with which he could compare the massive tube of flesh his hands were now massaging; only his own cock seemed adequate.
The latter was smaller, but not by much. Noah wasn’t unendowed himself; his own vein-wrapped tool was almost a good seven inches long and two in diameter. And while Noah hadn’t seen any porn, he’d seen his classmates in the locker room at his private religious school. He’d treasured up the images of smooth naked teen bodies for his beat-off sessions, but he’d also noticed that he was better hung than any of the other boys.
Now he’d met someone even bigger. And even though he knew it was not just disgusting and sinful but downright dangerous, he couldn’t help being drawn in, hoping to be introduced to dark, hidden pleasures he hadn’t dared to fully acknowledge, even to himself.
Joe was already aware of what was running through the boy’s mind; it really wasn’t that difficult to figure out. He reveled in anticipation of his control over the kid’s emotions as he lulled the religious youth into taking his cock before unleashing an explosion of violence.
Noah had been too preoccupied with dick to notice his surroundings, but he looked up as Joe pulled into the motel parking lot. He tightened the drawstring of his hoodie, craning his neck as he looked around concernedly. “Uh, Trevor?” he quavered, “uh, is this place ok?”
Joe chortled deeply. “Yeah, man, it’s safe. No one’s gonna see ya here. C’mon, man, follow me and I promise you’ll blow your most intense load ever.”
Noah’s cock was still erect and pulsing within the tight confines of his skinny jeans; he jumped out of the car, his white hightops padding along silently in the footprints of Joe’s thick black boots. The sadistic alpha had already switched on a light in the room by the time the kid reached the doorway.
The privileged, protected youth looked around at the rented squalor in despair. He’d only ever experienced squeaky-clean households and sanitized thoughts (except for those dark sinful ones that gave him wood).
The room was dim and hazy, still reeking of smoke. Not just cigarettes (he’d recognized that illicit scent on the mysterious stud and it made him start to ooze from his mushroom tip) but the sweet and unfamiliar scents of weed and crack. The rickety furniture was marked with dark lines—burns, actually, spots where cigarettes had burnt down and hot crack and meth pipes had been set down.
The dank, fetid air was being pushed lazily around by an ancient window AC unit that was not in a window but had been placed in a hole cut in the rear wall; it looked like garbage but the heat certainly worked—the room was over eighty degrees. The double bed had a cheap iron headboard and a thin polyester cover; the pillows, also thin, were covered with yellowed, stained linen.
But then he looked back at the bulging muscles of the handsome top and decided to shelve his objections. After all, he’d been right—no one Noah knew could possibly be in this neighborhood. The place was filthy, but so was the act. And the desire. Filthy, all of it.
And he wanted to be so fucking filthy…
“C’mon, boy, lessee what ya got,” Joe smirked as he rubbed the massive bulge in his groin. He leered suggestively at the innocent teen, knowing that the young faggot would have to respond.
He was right. Noah gulped again, his Adam’s apple slipping up and down his smooth neck. His hands shook as he reached for the zipper of his hoodie; they shook not in fear but in excitement. He slipped off the grey jacket, revealing a slate-gray long sleeve button-down shirt tucked into his beige skinny jeans.
At the same time, Joe took off his thick leather jacket, the clinging material of the white thermal shirt revealing the full breadth of his massive pectorals. The shirt was open at the neck, displaying a V-shaped wedge of dark wiry chest hair. Rolled up as they were, the sleeves did nothing to hide the alpha’s muscular, hairy forearms.
Joe stood over Noah and slipped off the shirt, his powerful torso glistening with sweat in the hazy light of the overheated room. The room wasn’t the only thing to get overheated; Noah found himself literally aching with desire as his eyes slid down the stud’s sculpted body, the lower half still wrapped in jeans.
Noah tried amateurishly to add a seductive strip-tease effect as he undressed, but his hands were trembling so much he had difficulty in getting the buttons of his shirt undone. Joe watched and smiled patiently as his rage flared inside at this delay in his gratification. He managed to control the desire to reach out and tear the shirt right off the bitch, buttons popping everywhere. And after all, why not? The kid was right where Joe wanted him…
But just then Noah managed to get the last button undone and slipped out of the shirt. A thin white cotton t-shirt was underneath. The boy smiled hesitantly, still uneasy, as he pulled it off over his head.
Underneath, his young teen body was smooth and slim but not scrawny. Even at a distance, Joe could see the soft, silky texture of the youth’s skin. Tender flesh waiting to be used and tortured—Joe’s lust was getting harder to restrain. He needed to take a moment.
Abruptly turning his back on the slut, he strode across the floor to the table where he’d left his jacket, his leather engineer boots leaving little impression on the soiled, threadbare carpet. Reaching into one of the pockets on the jacket, he fished out his smokes and lit one up, slipping the pack and lighter back into the jacket. He didn’t carry them in the jeans—they were truly skin-tight and would have crushed the pack.
Noah looked on, half in fascination and half in concern. He didn’t know many people who smoked—and those he did, his parents never failed to point out, were going to burn in Hell for various sins, cigarettes only one of them.
The thought of what they’d say if they could see him was strangely appealing. This was forbidden and that made it so much more erotic…
“W-won’t that make my clothes smell?” he asked shakily as he leaned against the bed and crossed one leg over the other so he could untie his sneakers.
“Don’t worry, man,” Joe drawled with a friendly grin. “I got ya covered. Time we’re done here, you won’t need to worry about how your clothes smell, I promise ya.”
Noah nodded mutely. The enormity of what has happening had hit him. He was about to lose his virginity—with an anonymous older man in a motel room. There was no going back after this. Whatever else happened in his life, it would be stained by this night.
But in the battle between piety and hormones, the latter was the natural winner. After all, his young, healthy body was at its sexual peak. Noah rarely jacked off; that was a sin, too—worse than cigarettes, by far. And he had almost no privacy at home anyway.
Lust, aided by the thick musky scents of sweat and smoke, stifled the tritely moralistic murmurings in Noah’s mind. Having pulled off his hightops, he dropped his jeans first. He stood across from Joe, his lithe young body nude except for his thin white briefs and his calf-high athletic socks. Joe took another drag from his cig and leered at the kid’s groin; it looked like he’d stuffed a sausage in his underwear.
Little cunt was hung, that was for sure.
Still keeping the easy-going, charming grin on his handsome, chiseled face, Joe exhaled a bluish cloud of smoke. “Lessee what ya got, boy. Show me your dick.”
Noah looked away, shifting awkwardly. “I-I dunno, man, I ain’t never done anything with-with a guy…”
Joe knew damn good and well the cringing little faggot hadn’t done anything with anybody ever. But tonight, he was playing for effect. Tonight wasn’t just assrape—it was mindrape too. So the cunt had to be cajoled.
And besides, the punk wanted it. “Fuck, dude, don’t back out now. Lookit yer dick, man—even from here I can see how hard it is. You want my shaft, don’t ya, son? It’s ok—you can take my rod up your virgin hole tonight and no one will know.”
Noah moaned in erotic lust as a dark spot appeared on the white cotton briefs. Joe chuckled, noting that it was right at the tip of the slut’s cock. Motherfuckin’ homo was already oozing.
“Drop ‘em,” the hulking sadist whispered, pitching his voice seductively low. “Drop yer drawers, boy, and get on the bed.”
Noah trembled, but he obeyed, slipping out of the briefs. His flat belly fell smoothly to his groin where curly sand-colored pubes framed a thick, semi-erect tube of pulsing meat. Clear drops of fluid were dripping out of the dark mushroom tip.
The naked teen backed up onto the bed, his beautiful, lithe body gingerly avoiding the stains on the cheap bedspread. Joe dropped his cigarette and casually crushed it out with his big black boot as he moved towards the bed. The burn was unnoticeable among the others darkening the carpet.
The powerful alpha towered over the punk and leered down at him. Instinctively, the youth cowered in the shadow of the older man, but glanced up immediately when he heard the dude open his zipper. The older man had already unbuckled his belt; the thick leather strap dangled loosely on each side of his denim-bound hips.
The biggest dick Noah had ever seen was his own. That changed now.
Joe pulled out his cock slowly and expertly, appreciating the effect he was having on his prey. The kid gaped openly as inch after inch of the stud’s swollen, throbbing shaft emerged from his open fly. The flesh was so dark, it was almost black, fed by the ropy veins that tightly circled the pulsating rod. The thick dark trail of fur leading down the stud’s muscled chest and over his firm abs seemed to be designed to direct attention to the groin.
Noah gulped in astonishment. He was scared, but not as much as he should have been, even without knowing Joe’s plans for him. He’d never so much as played with his ass before—the boy was impressed with the older man’s penis but had no concept of how much it would hurt jammed up his colon.
Even so, the alpha’s dick was intimidating. “Wh-what ya gonna do with that?” he asked tremulously.
Joe spoke quietly, the deep bass of his voice seeming to vibrate the root of Noah’s cock. “Look at it boy,” he muttered, “look at my dick. You want it, dontcha? G’wan, put it in yer mouth. Do it, boy, you know ya wanna.”
The alpha was right. Noah did wanna. He looked confused and timid, but he leaned forward and took the spongy purple tip into his open mouth, working his tongue over the oozing head and teasing the tender rosebud on the underside. He slurped loudly, enjoying the salty taste of the precum leaking into his mouth.
Joe grinned. “Fuck yeah, dude,” he moaned, “damn, that’s good. Work it, boy, work my hog with your mouth. Slurp it down, cocksucker.”
Noah was both shocked and thrilled with the abuse. Leaning even father forward, he opened his jaw as wide as he could to deepthroat the dominant stranger, his right hand a blur as he jacked his own tool wildly. Even more erotic was the way the muscular stud clamped his hands on the back of the boy’s head and forced it down onto his throbbing tubesteak. Deep in the grip of overwhelming lust, the teen had shed his trepidation and succumbed to his long-suppressed desires.
The top’s thick column of meat slid into the youth’s throat, plugging it thoroughly. The kid gagged and choked as Joe’s dick sealed off his airpipe, anxiety rising in his lust-fogged mind as his breath was blocked. As his eyes started to water, he braced his hands against the alpha’s legs and tried to shove him away. It was like trying to topple a large tree by pushing it over; he could feel the power in the taut denim-covered muscles flexing against his palms.
Then, with a sardonic chuckle too subtle for the horny teen to interpret, Joe pulled out. The hardbodied sadist admired his dick, bobbing in the air and dripping long streamers of boyspit as Noah retched, trying not to puke up the dinner his momma had made him. The shuddering youth coughed up drool that flowed off his chin, straight down onto the engorged head of his own cock.
He’d liked it. It’d been scary—terrifying, for a moment—but he’d liked it. He’d liked how the larger, stronger man had taken control and used his face as a fucktoy. Not that the innocent little faggot virgin would have expressed it in those terms, of course, but the lust motivating his warped pig soul was the same.
The fact that it was a disgusting sin that would instantly damn him to Hell only made it sexier. He was ready to be bad.
Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, Noah looked up at the strapping, broad-chested alpha. He was suddenly entranced with the stranger’s black chest hair, as if noticing it for the first time. Timorously, he extended a hand.
It was only with a great deal of patience and an almost superhuman suppression of rage that Joe allowed the boycunt to touch him. He stood tall and erect next to the bed, letting the punk run his hands over his huge pecs and fondle his nipples before the greedy, desire-driven fingers sank lower down his body and curled in the fur coating his rippled abs.
His anger was expressed through his cock, which pulsed visibly, pumping out a steady stream of clear precum. Noah noticed the effect but had no clue as to the cause.
That thought made Joe’s dick throb even more. Even if the stupid little shit had a clue, there was no way he could conceive the nightmare in store for him.
Then again, maybe he could. There were some imaginative deaths in the Bible. Joe’s grin came back, more evil than ever. He looked down at the teen with a cold, appraising contempt. The cunt would do; he’d be an acceptable meatsack to soak up Joe’s seed.
Time to get biblical on his ass.
He started slow. “Ok, boy,” he said, just a hint of menace in his husky voice, “get on your back. Time to go whole hog.” He grinned and thrust his hips slightly so that his huge dick swung between his legs. “And believe me, punk, you’re gettin’ the whole hog.”
Trembling with both fear and desire, Noah moved back, his smooth skin crawling from contact with the thin polyester bedspread. He managed to wriggle to one side, pushing the cover away, only to find the cheap sheets underneath no more comfortable.
It didn’t matter. Tonight, he was gonna explore his darkest dreams; tomorrow he’d be back to being the good little choirboy his family thought he was. And even if he ultimately went to Hell for it, it’d be worth it.
The slim, handsome youth stretched out on his back and raised his legs in the air, presenting his fuckhole like a bitch in heat. He was gonna get fucked. A little discomfort wouldn’t matter.
The icy gleam in the alpha’s eyes should have been a warning, but the teen had nothing by which to judge it. Legs spread, he waited eagerly for his first—and unknown to him, his last—sexual experience.
Joe climbed on the bed, kneeling between the kid’s smooth, trembling legs. Grasping his huge oozing tube of manmeat, he rubbed his dick across the punk’s ass, smearing it with precum. He smiled gently as he placed the thick purple head of his cock against the boy’s buttcrack, the fine hairs tickling his swollen mushroom tip.
Noah felt the pressure and uttered a nervous, breathy moan. This was it. Everything he’d dreamed of, a hot hard powerful stranger who was gonna fuck the shit outta him.
And then he was gonna go home and pretend it never happened. He was gonna go on with his life and no one would ever know. His folks would never, could never know how he’d spent the night; it was something they were simply incapable of imagining. And that was all to Noah’s benefit. It meant he’d get away with it—so he quashed his anxiety and readied himself for intense physical pleasure.
But that wasn’t what he got.
Joe was ready. He knew the little motherfucker was a virgin and wouldn’t be able to handle his tool; he expected it. He didn’t even need to know the kid’s name to know how the pig would respond. He didn’t start forcefully, though, there was something he was waiting for, something the slut would ask for. So he applied pressure slowly, easing the head of his dick into the youth’s tight, intact fuckhole.
At the start, Noah shuddered with pleasure. As he felt the iron-hard shaft start to penetrate him, he inhaled deeply. The closeness of the muscular alpha flooded his sinuses with sweat and pheromones. The inexperienced teen’s impatience to have the handsome hulking stud buried deep inside him, marking him as his own, outweighed any other concern.
Fuck his parents, fuck the bible, fuck it all. He gave the Joe the invitation he’d been waiting for. The kid was ready to be a complete faggot pig.
“Fuck me, man,” he moaned in a mind-numbing fog of lust. “Do what you want to me, dude, fuck me rough. Make me yours tonight…” His plea trailed off in a gasp of desire.
Joe chuckled malignly. “Ok, cunt,” he sneered, “you asked for it.”
Even in his erotic frenzy, the curt, cold tone managed to cut its way through to the center of Noah’s awareness. By the time it did so, however, there were more pressing matters demanding his attention—like the horrible agony in his ass.
The cruel sadist had jammed the entire length of his massive, blood-engorged cock into the boy’s ass. The phenomenal girth of his member ripped open the youth’s sphincter, making the kid bleed like his cherry had been popped—as it had, brutally.
Noah couldn’t scream. He wanted to, badly, but he couldn’t—fuck, he couldn’t even breathe. It hurt too much. It hurt too much to breathe, to move, to think…
Move. He needed to move. He needed to get of this fucking rod that was impaling his tender rectum, oh fuck he needed to move—
Later, Joe was pissed at himself. He’d let his guard down and it almost backfired on him. Of course, when it happened, he’d been more pissed at the little homo teen. And so it was the young cocksucker who ultimately took the brunt of his wrath.
At the time, though, Noah thought he was achieving redemption, not damnation, as he clawed his way up off Joe’s enormous dick, kicking and flailing like a wild thing. Joe was momentarily taken aback—not long, but long enough that the writhing punk was able to scramble free towards the head of the bed.
In the next moment, the kid had rolled to the floor and bolted for the bathroom. In a blood-red rage, Joe lunged after his prey, only to have the boy evade him at the last moment and lock himself in.
As Noah slammed the door and turned the lock in the doorknob, he shuddered in relief—and started praying. He’d been wrong. He’d sinned, badly, and he’d been punished. It had hurt; only sinners could want pain like that, Jesus had shown him the way and he wasn’t ever gonna do anything like this again—
And that was when Joe’s big black boot kicked through the flimsy hollow-core door, punching out a huge hole. Squealing with fear, the terrified teenager threw himself on the floor and wrapped his arms around the base of the toilet. He babbled promises to behave to his God, pleading for salvation in air rank with piss.
The enraged alpha had gotten the bathroom door open. Noah kept his eyes squeezed shut; if he didn’t see what was happening, maybe God wouldn’t let it happen. He clung to that belief desperately as he heard the muscled sadist approach.
Joe was done playing. He bent down and wrapped one hand clean around the boy’s upper arm. With a powerful jerk, he pulled the punk free of the toilet and stalked back to the bedroom, dragging the helpless, sobbing youth across the floor behind him. With a swift, brutal yank, he flung the boy onto the bed.
Noah cowered, weeping in abject fear. He wasn’t curious anymore. He wanted to go home, go back to safe quiet bible study and beating off secretly in the bathroom. This—this was too scary, this stud, sexy as he was, was gonna hurt him.
The naïve teen glanced up into the face of his tormentor and flinched instantly. This time, there was no question of mistaking the formidable look of hot rage and cold lust. No, he wanted no part of any of this.
So why was his dick so fucking hard?
It was almost painfully erect, throbbing fiercely. An almost steady stream of clear fluid was leaking out. He didn’t understand. This wasn’t happening.
Then Joe made it happen.
He lunged forward in a lightning blast of violence, driving his fist into the punk’s soft, smooth belly with the force of an industrial piston. Noah gave a deep, loud grunt and instantly curled into a fetal position as a hard ball of pain tore through his midsection. The next few seconds seemed an eternity as the kid clutched his abdomen and writhed, trying to get air back into his lungs.
“Ya made a bad mistake, motherfucker,” Joe hissed, a frightening glint of psychotic glee dancing in his eyes. “I was only gonna kill ya before, you worthless cumsucking fag, but, see, now I gotta make it hurt.”
He sat gently on the bed next to Noah and softly stroked the boy’s tearstained face. Brushing away a lock of the kid’s soft brown hair, he leaned so close that Noah could feel the older man’s facial scruff scratch his ear. As he whispered, his breath was warm on the youth’s neck.
“That means I gotta make it slow…”
Still struggling for air, the closeted churchboy wasn’t able to comprehend what was being said to him; his attention was focused elsewhere, Joe observed with displeasure. Time to reorient the queer-ass bitch.
Joe rolled the kid onto his back and spread his legs. Noah realized what was going on just before Joe slammed the full length of his cock up the teen’s virgin ass. The pressure at the start was tremendous but Joe shoved his rod forward with renewed force, ripping new tears through the kid’s already-mangled sphincter the way his boot had ripped through the door.
It got Noah’s air back. His body contracted involuntarily in distress, stimulating him to inhale. The pain—this was Hell, he was being punished…this kinda pain could only come from Hell…
He shrieked in agony—once. The shrill screech was cut off when Joe balled his fist and sent a piledriver straight from his shoulder into the boy’s face, blackening his eye and snapping his cheekbone. “Shaddap!” he barked gruffly as he gripped the punk’s heaving torso in his huge hands, clamping down to hold the smooth lean body still as he penetrated it further.
Lost in a dark haze of pain, Noah had limited awareness of anything beyond his own suffering. His whole body seemed to be consumed in a flame of nightmarish agony from his ass to his face to his cock…
As his body shuddered under the violent sexual assault, Noah realized that his cock was not only still hard, it was so hard it hurt.
No, this couldn’t be. This couldn’t be him. This was wrong. He had to get away, this wasn’t going to happen to him… As the panic welled up inside the inexperienced teen, his struggles and cries began to intensify.
He hadn’t learned his lesson, Joe realized. Well, that was ok. The little fuck was young and healthy; he’d probably last for a while. Plenty of time for learnin’. But he needed lesson one all over again.
“I said shaddap!” Joe roared, throwing a feral growl into his voice that terrified the youth in the half-second before another donkey-punch landed, splitting his lips. “You keep your goddam mouth shut while I’m fuckin’ ya, you sniveling faggot, ya feeling me? Huh, you pansy bitch? You get what I’m sayin’?”
Noah’s eyes opened wide with shock; even in this nightmare anticipation of Hell, the alpha’s words had sunk in. No, this was wrong…he wasn’t a faggot…please, if he could just get away he’d never look at another dick again, he’d never—
And even as he pled silently, he realized it was a bargain he could never keep. High above the wave of pain swamping his nervous system, the hormone-flooded teen could still feel his own swollen shaft stabbing into the alpha’s rippled abs. An ineffectual weapon of defense, it left trails of clear slimy precum matting the muscled sadist’s dark belly fur.
Suddenly, Joe stopped. He was fully inserted, his long thick rod buried up to the root, his wiry pubes interlocked with the youth’s soft downy fuzz like Velcro. Sweating and gasping, the powerful top loomed over his victim, the helpless teen who was now pinned to the bed like an insect on his assailant’s cock.
The boy opened his eyes hesitantly—at least, he opened his right eye. He was shuddering in pain, barely able to breathe. The left side of his face was black and swelling, with blood leaking from his busted lips.
The image the suffering teenager saw stuck with him for the rest of his life—approximately another thirteen minutes.
The coldly handsome face of the older man hung just inches from his, but the expression on the hard, unshaven face was unlike anything the innocent youth had ever seen. A somehow erotic mixture of contempt, rage, and desire that offered no hope of compassion or common humanity. It was the expression of a sexual sadist.
Noah was too sheltered to have heard of such a thing, but he got an idea when Joe hocked up a huge wad of phlegm, grinned at the boy, and spit it into his face. “Fuckin’ faggot,” he sneered.
It triggered a desperate rebellion in Noah—unfortunately. “No!” he shouted in his mind, the reality being a guttural protest pushed out inarticulately between puffy lips. But it was enough to get the attention of the brawny psychopath.
“Goddam it, you piece a’ shit, you really are fuckin’ stupid, aintcha?” he snarled viciously. “I toldja to shut the fuck up and here ya are tryin’ to whine about somethin’! I said to shut the fuck UP!” As his voice rose in rage on the last syllable, he swung back and delivered a massive roundhouse punch square to the boy’s jaw.
The punk’s head rocked back as his body flailed from the force of the blow. Poised on his knees, Joe grunted in pleasure as the involuntary movements worked the cunt’s guts around the sensitive head of his shaft. The slut’s own tool, violently bobbing with the rest of his body, spattered them both with a fine rain of precum.
The sadist observed with sick erotic pleasure the way the faggot’s eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered as he trembled on the edge of consciousness. As the traumatized teen struggled to stay awake, he coughed up a gout of blood; he was too stunned to realize that he’d spat out one of his canine teeth.
When Noah finally came back to himself, he’d had his epiphany. He was saved. He was truly ready to give up sin in all its forms and surrender himself to his Lord. He was convinced of the error of his ways and deeply repentant of them.
Problem was, it was a little too late. Joe made that perfectly clear.
Leaning forward, he wrapped his huge strong paws around the teen’s pale, fragile throat and began to squeeze—slowly at first, but inexorably nonetheless. “G’wan and pray, you useless little bible-thumping faggot—it ain’t gonna help ya, you disgusting cumsucker. Time to die, cunt. You ready to meet yer maker? Cause when ya do, you’re gonna be full of cum!”
In a deep red sea of pain, Noah heard the words but didn’t comprehend them. He was just a soft suburban teen; he hadn’t had the chance to recover from the brutal assault before his air was cut off—utterly and completely.
Instinctively, the lithe punk began to struggle violently, his hands clawing at Joe’s, trying to pry them away from his neck while his slim, firm legs kicked and flailed wildly. His heels drummed on the bed, his flexing feet scraping at the sheets and twisting his white socks.
Noah opened his eyes—well, his right eye; the left side of his face was battered and swollen beyond recognition—and with tears welling out, tried to beg and plead for mercy. He’d never do it again, dear lord, please save me I’ll never look at another boy again I promise…
But no words were coming out. And somewhere in the throbbing drumbeat of torment that had become his world, he was slowly becoming aware of a new pain—that of choking to death.
Now his movements weren’t instinctual. They weren’t necessarily controlled; they were born out of the frenzied panic that seized the little faggot’s soul.
The kid wasn’t heavily muscled, but he was no weakling and the fear of death gave an extra impetus to his desperation. Clawing madly at his own throat, he soon realized the futility of the gesture and began tugging at Joe’s strong, burly arms. As the youth’s legs thrashed, they slapped wetly against the alpha’s pumping, sweat-streaked torso. His left foot caught in the a fold of the fitted sheet and pulled it away from the mattress; as his leg recoiled involuntarily, the sock came off in the fold, leaving the boy’s bare foot exposed, toes curling as he died.
“Yer gonna die on my motherfuckin’ cock, you homo cunt,” Joe growled like a feral beast as he raped and strangled the teen. “How’s it feel? Does it hurt? Huh? Does it, you worthless sack of shit? Go on and pray, little boy, but I’m your God now. I’m the one who decides when you die and how much it’s gonna hurt.”
He paused for a moment to admire the look of stunned shock on the punk’s face (at least, what was left of it). He knew the meat had heard—and more importantly, had understood. He spat another wad of phlegm into the youth’s mauled face and spoke again, this time in a low whisper, cold and sharp like a steel blade.
“Here’s a secret, fag—it’s gonna hurt. A lot. More than you can possibly imagine. And the more it hurts you, the more I’m gonna spunk when you finally die, you useless cumdump. Just so you know, you sick homo scum. Just so you know you’re getting exactly what you deserve.”
And with that, he squeezed harder, feeling the cunt’s flexible esophagus constrict beneath his hands. He dug his fingernails into the tender flesh on the back of the unfortunate boy’s neck, so he could get better traction with which to throttle the punk-ass queerboy.
Noah knew now beyond any doubt that he was experiencing Hell—he was being given a literal foretaste of the torture he’d endure for eternity. The burning in his head, the excruciating visehold on his throat, the pounding anguish in his ass…oh God…he’d wanted to get fucked and was gonna be sodomized by the Devil forever…and worse, he was gonna be found like this!
Everyone was gonna think he was a disgusting pervert, a child-molesting sodomite—Momma, Daddy—oh God, Daddy—even Archie, the youth minister…he’d been at Archie’s today and seen the way Archie’d started at his crotch; oh fuck he shoulda stayed there…
The once-virginal teenage slipped in and out of coherence in his terror, but never slackened his struggle to break free. His frantic, questing hands continually sought some sort of hold on his killer’s rock-hard body in an attempt to have some kind of impact.
Everywhere Noah’s hands landed, though, they slid across sweaty, hard, firm flesh; the only thing the flailing kid was able to grab ahold of was the stud’s thick, wiry chest hair. Without even thinking, Noah snatched a handful and yanked it out in a paroxysm of terror and pain.
“Goddam motherfucker!” Joe howled in pain-ignited anger. Clenching his huge left hand around the boy’s throat, he freed his right hand and drove it three more times into the dying faggot’s face, each blow landing with a wet thudding sound—the last one with a moist crunch when Noah’s nose was broken.
Without missing a single rhythmic stoke of his long shaft, Joe wrapped his hand back around the meat’s neck and kept squeezing. He could feel the head of his dick deep inside the thrashing youth’s guts. The way the slut’s innards had stroked the swollen, sensitive head of his tool while the boy was being beaten had been fantastic.
“Yeah, dude, that’s what ya need, huh? You like it to hurt, huh, you fuckin’ pig? Was that the problem, you weren’t in enough pain to work my cock? Fuck, man ya shoulda said so—we can fix that right now, fuck yeah!”
With that, Joe slowly increased the pressure on Noah’s neck, this time digging his thumbs into the miserable boy’s Adam’s apple. The sadistic stud grinned as he felt the cartilage start to give way under the force he applied.
Noah was beyond thought. He was in a world of physical sensations that had been previously unconceivable to him, as much as he’d heard of the torments of Hell. This pain couldn’t last for eternity; there’d be nothing left of him but a hollow screaming shell. He was being split open from the inside out; he was still aware of the alpha’s cock reaming his rectum, pulling and tearing at his intestines like a plunger. His face was black and swollen; between the beatings and the choking, it looked like a rotten gourd. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it, pulpy and pulsating with pain.
The excruciating agony of his throat was the worst, though. His windpipe was crushed almost completely flat and the way the top’s thumbs were grinding into his vocal cords hurt so bad Noah began convulsing involuntarily as his stomach tried instinctively to retch.
“Oh fuck yeah, cocksucker, that’s it,” muttered Joe in response to the boy’s rhythmic, undulating movements, “that’s it, jack me off as you die, you queer-ass bitch. Yeah, cunt, I know how to keep ya going—just gotta ramp up the pain, huh, you sick fucking faggot scum?”
The grinning sadist tightened his grip yet again as his strapping, powerful body bore down on the helpless teen. The sleazy overheated motel room was redolent with a miasma of sweat, smoke and mansex, making an almost visible haze in the air. The sounds of mansex filled the air, too—the increasing tempo to the creaking of the bed, the swift slapping sounds of hardcore fucking, the deep, vital grunts of two males locked bodily together in intensity and lust.
The fact that one of the males was dying only added to the intensity. And the lust.
Even Noah felt the lust. He felt it as a hitherto-unknown source of agony. His dick had been hard enough to hurt before, but now it was electrifying—it seemed as if a white-hot rod of steel had been jammed up through his ass into his cock, extending it in flaming agony the further it penetrated.
Joe felt the lust, too, both his own and Noah’s He felt the meat’s deathpig lust as the cunt’s thick purple cock slapped against his belly, still leaving a thick trail of erotic slime in his fur, even during the throes of death.
He felt his own lust as the homo’s thick bloodied lips parted, releasing a torrent of foamy drool. He felt it as the choking teen’s tongue, as swollen and purple as his dick, slowly emerged from his blackened, distorted face.
For Noah, there was no heaven, no Hell anymore. There wasn’t even any Noah; too much of his brain had been starved of oxygen for too long. The brain damage was irreversible. Not everything was gone, though.
The brain stem remained, able to feel sensation and basic emotion. What emerged was the primal submissive beast, submitting to and being marked by the dominant alpha.
The brain-dead teen was convulsing violently, his colon clenching the cruel killer’s shaft in an instinctive attempt to milk out the testosterone and be marked as belonging to the alpha. The hormones flooding the queerboy’s body overstimulated this response.
Joe had never had a dying cumdump stroke his rod so vigorously; he’d been right to go for the virginal churchboy; they always wanted dick in the worst way.
And Joe specialized in giving dick in the worst way.
He held onto the bucking teen like he was breaking a bull, letting the natural rhythms of convulsion and death beat his swollen shaft to orgasm. The young homo’s cock was still erect and visibly pulsing as Joe felt intense, overflowing pressure building in his puckered sack.
He was gonna unload. “Guess you were an ok cumrag, faggot,” he grunted as his body jolted in violent release.
The hulking, muscular killer clenched his hands tightly in his first instinctive reaction to shooting his wad; the loud crunching sound of crushed cartilage filled the room. The quivering boy also reacted involuntarily—it was the final blast of pain needed to override the teen deathpig’s nervous system and trigger an unnaturally prolonged orgasm.
The youth’s overabundant hormones had swamped his body in excess testosterone. It had led him to seeking its release in dangerous situations—and now, it led his dying body to ejaculate for nearly ninety seconds straight, the last spark of his life fading with an awareness of white-hot molten steel flooding his anus and pumping out through his erect shaft; he was merely a conduit for the boiling seed of life…
As thick, ropy strands of semen splashed across Joe’s broad, furry chest, he cried out in rage and hate, pumping his thick, creamy jizz as deep into the worthless kid’s body as he could. Shifting his powerful hands up Noah’s crushed neck, he clamped down again, this time where he could place his thumbs under the angle of the kid’s jaw.
“Ok, motherfucker, time to go,” he grunted. As another orgasm wracked his powerful body, his hands clenched, driving his thumbs upwards.
There was a loud cracking sound as the brawny sadist popped the teen fag’s head off his spine, snapping the topmost vertebra and sending bone shards slashing into the spinal column.
Noah had already emptied his balls and his mind; there was nothing left but a sweaty cum-filled meatsack until the sudden blast of massive trauma to his central nervous system sent random signals thought his taut, shuddering corpse.
One of these hit the scrotum and, even in death, contracted the muscles and caused the young queer’s cock to send up a final jet of spunk, the hot pearly liquid splattering on the underside of Joe’s jaw as the older man grunted and cried out, spewing his last boiling wad into the kid’s torn and slashed rectum.
Even after he’d pumped his last drop of semen into the corpse’s shuddering guts, Joe continued to fuck the quivering body, his massive shaft still erect and tearing into the convulsing pig’s colon. “Fuck yeah, dude, I’m your God now, huh? I gave you everything ya ever wanted, huh, ya faggot? I gave ya hot fuckin’ mansex, I gave ya pain and death—who’s yer daddy now, huh, cunt?”
Spitting in contempt on the twitching corpse, Joe pulled himself out of the boy’s well-worn fuckhole. His dick slid out in a slimy pool of cum and blood that instantly stained the sheets under the slut’s quivering anus; it was obvious that the dead boy had been violently fucked.
Still sweating and shaking with pleasurable exertion, Joe staggered back across the room to his jacket. He fished the smokes and lighter out of the pocket and lit one as he leaned back and took a moment to chill.
On the bed, Noah was chilling too; in fact, he was cooling by the minute. But his corpse was still fresh and limber; random nerves still fired down the mangled spinal column, making the body continue to shudder and twitch. Even now, the toes on the teen’s bare foot continued to curl and spasm in death. The other foot, with the white athletic sock wrapped tightly around it, kicked jaggedly across the rumpled, stained sheets.
The punk’s smooth, flat abdomen still heaved convulsively, smeared with coagulating pools of semen, all his own. Some of it was glazing his grotesquely distorted face. His black, swollen cheeks were stained with a white scum where his foamy panicked drool had dried to a crust as he’d died.
Joe inhaled the nicotine deeply. Even though he’d completely emptied his balls, the teenage faggot’s corpse was so hot, his dick was still throbbing as he looked at it.
He knew he had to go, though. This cunt had made a lot of noise. He needed to get away fairly quickly. Tossing his smoldering butt onto the boy’s smooth chest (where it hissed out in a puddle of jizz), he stepped into the bathroom and cleaned himself up, using a wet washcloth and soap to remove all traces of the dead pansy’s spunk. Tossing the towel he used, along with the washcloth, into the toilet, he returned to the bedroom after fastening up his fly and slipped on his thermal shirt and leather jacket.
He was vaguely aware that the teen homo was still twitching, but he didn’t really give a shit anymore. A quick glance outside showed that no one was around, and he made it to his car and out of the motel lot unseen.
The corpse was found the next morning, but without ID (since Noah parents hadn’t allowed him a driver’s license yet), it went to the city morgue. Later the same day, Noah’s folks frantically reported him missing, out in the suburb where they lived.
It was the better part of a week before anyone connected the reamed-out, cum-soaked corpse found beaten, raped and strangled in a cheap motel with the straight-A bible school virgin Noah. When the connection was made, the outcry in the media was loud and shrill, demanding vengeance from every corner.
By that time, though, Joe had already wasted his next victim.