In Defiance, Deference, and Servitude to Others

by Xanderboy


Universally speaking, cocky jocks rate somewhere below Republicans on

 the karmic totem pole. The universe likes to share, like a huge cosmic

 buffet that we are all eating at and everyone wants a pot sticker. So

 the prick that grabs the last ten on his plate and won’t give any of them

 up isn’t going to be getting any good karma cred.

Bruce Summers was that guy. Perfectly tall and muscled, strawberry

 blond hair, blue eyes, he was used to having everything handed to him from

 birth. He never really had to struggle much to get things in life, and

 he liked it that way. He always kept a harem of admirers around him, at

 first the cheerleaders and such in school, then a montage of girls in

 college. He even started letting one or two of those leery fags around

 him, y’know, as long as they weren’t too faggy. They often did have

 some great connections he would use, and they always knew where to find

 the best pot. Finally, he graduated to a nicely consistent stable of

 women at work, in his social life, and even a neighbor or two who would

 feed him pretty regularly. Bruce couldn’t even conceive of having to do

 all of these things these people did for him on his own. Why should he?

 These were often all people who were sadder or uglier or (most often)

 fatter than he was, so it’s not like they weren’t getting anything out of

 hanging out with him! If anything, he was getting gypped. Sometimes he

 really had to work for the free meal or blowjob, bitches just didn’t

 know how to put out what he wanted and get on with it already. That was

 just how women were, though.

Walking to his friend’s house he considered his options for the night.

 He knew there would be plenty of beer and hooch at the party, so he had

 his bases covered there. But he was more than a little horny; some mid

 or post party action wouldn’t be totally unwarranted. He started

 running through the list of girls who would be there for the least resistant

 to giving him head.

“BRUCE!” a large, similarly muscled jock yelled while opening the front


“HEY! ALPHA! PHETA! KAPPA DOGS, GO!” they chanted together.

“What’s up, Kyle?” Bruce greeted, coolly reaching his hand out to


“Not much, dude, except the party can finally start now. Want some

 Jager?” Kyle shut the door behind Bruce .

“Sure, man. How’s the chick scene tonight?” Bruce inquired.

“It’s okay, but Brittney’s not here tonight,” Kyle grinned while

 leading Bruce through the house. “Looking for some action, bro?”

“You know I always am!” Bruce laughed back. “Can’t get enough bitches

 for this meat.”

“I hear that,” Kyle said before sipping his beer.

“Yeah, I think I need some bitch to worship my cock tonight,” Bruce

 sighed while pumping the keg. “It’s been awhile. Like a day or two.” Bruce

 chuckled, put the keg handle down, and glanced around the room.

“You wanna do a line, bro?” Kyle hit Bruce on the arm.

“Not yet, dude, I wanna check out the babes first,” Bruce decided.

“A’ight, I’ll be in my room,” Kyle exited. “Hoo RAH!”

Bruce glanced around the party, finding a couple women to his liking.

 While pondering who on earth let the fag in the corner into the party,

 he headed over to the freshest meat there. “Hey, I’m Bruce,” he greeted.

 “How you doin’?”

The girl instantly giggled.

“Hi, wow, thanks for talking to me,” she perked up. “I’m kinda, like,

 new in the area, and I don’t know many people here. My friend Lindsey

 brought me, and now I can’t find her. Oh my gosh, I’m Candy, by the way!”

“That you are. That you are indeed. Well, I can definitely show you

 what to do here,” Bruce insinuated, leaning closer to the girl, ready to

 move in for the kill.


Bruce shouted, as always, while he came in the girl’s mouth. He was

 always so silent right up until the moment and then, bam! It hit him with

 full force, almost sneaking up on him by surprise. It, apparently, had

 surprised Candy as well, as both her eyes at the moment and choking

 afterwards attested to.

“You could have warned me,” she complained once she had regained her


“Why are you still here?” Bruce shot back. “I’m done with you now.”

Candy, looking horrified and shooting daggers at Bruce, wiped off her

 mouth, picked up her heels, and stormed out of the room. “Asshole!” she

 yelled at him on her way out.

Bruce sighed contently and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Washing

 his hands off in the sink he winked at his reflection. Suddenly, a man

 walked into the bathroom from the other door. Bruce pulled his pants

 up, trying to cover his unbuckled, semi-undone groin area. The intruder,

 however, had gone right for it with his eyes and was even grinning

 somewhat it seemed.

“Fucking faggot, what are you, cruising the bathroom for a chance to

 check out a real man?!” Bruce shoved the guy back through the door, and

 hard. He looked confused and hurt before Bruce also slammed the door


“Fuckin fags….,” Bruce whined. He fixed his underwear and belt, checked

 himself out in the mirror to make sure his hair was still perfect, and

 walked out the other door.


It was at this point the universe had finally had enough. Using women

 constantly was enough, and adding on rudely shoving a (not in the

 slightest bit gay) cancer researcher and head of a charity foundation was

 apparently where the straw that broke the universe’s back. And Bruce

 Summers was now finally going to have to cash in his karma. And he

 undoubtedly would not like his cash prize.


In his dream, Bruce was nearly naked. He was wearing some kind of

 extremely tight and uncomfortable shorts (What is that material? Bruce

 wondered. It hurts but feels so good…). He was on his knees, and as he

 slowly took in the measure of his surroundings he also realized he was

 squirming about while getting jacked off.

“Is this a dream? This all feels so real,” Bruce mumbled.

“Quiet, boy,” a voice commanded. Bruce suddenly realized he was

 kneeling in front of a man in full leather gear, from head to toe. He wore a

 black rimmed leather cap, a leather harness, leather chaps, leather

 bands around his shoulder and hands, and leather boots. He was a bald,

 muscled, sweaty man who clearly knew how to take control. Bruce was

 kneeling in front of him while the man was jacking him off and talking to him.

 Bruce wasn’t really taking any of it in, though, as he was still very

 confused about what was going on. Something really did not feel right

 to him.

And yet clearly something felt very right to Bruce, for he was rapidly

 approaching orgasm, even in his confused state. He started to moan

 louder and louder, his knees buckling. He was looking up at the man in

 front of him and somehow it was only making him harder. It felt right to

 Bruce, in that moment, for this man to be having his way with him. Mostly

 right, anyway, as part of him thought it was wrong.

But the important part came all over the floor, and quickly lapped it

 up when ordered to. “What is going on here?” Bruce asked as he looked up

 from eating his cum, which was one of the best things he had ever


“You don’t need to know that, boy, and you won’t,” the man answered.

 “Not until the end anyway, but don’t worry. It’ll happen quickly. Just

 let it happen, and you’ll have all the more fun.” The man was grabbing

 his cock and pulling it out. He grabbed Bruce and started pushing him

 down toward it. “And it’ll begin tomorrow, boy. Now get on this.”

Bruce’s mind started fading away slowly as he knelt over towards the

 man’s cock, suddenly ravenous for it. As he drift away he marveled at how

 wonderful it tasted and how right this all felt. And slowly, the

 universe’s revenge began……

In Defiance, Deference, and Servitude to Others Part 2


By Xanderboy

      Bruce woke up and felt amazing. The sun was shining, he felt

 awake and buzzing, if there were any damn furry woodland creatures around

 they’d have been singing and chit-chatting away. He felt so on top of

 the world today.

“Damn, that bitch must have been just what I needed,” he muttered out

 loud. “Woh, guess I needed a replay!” Bruce’s hands found the cum

 stain in front of his shorts.

“I’ve just got too much manly seed for one bitch!” Bruce laughed as he

 sauntered into his family room. He felt so alive with energy he felt

 the need to do something. He decided a run would be the best idea, but

 first he’d need his Ipod from his car.

Bruce ran out to his car, ignoring his half nudity and cum stained

 boxers as he was too focused on spending this energy. He also did not

 notice two of his apartment complex neighbors smoking cigarettes in front

 of their place a couple doors down.

“Damn, I wish that boy’d dress in tight revealing clothes like that all

 the time!” one of them commented.

“You said it,” the other replied. “I’d sure as shit visit you more

 often then!”


Bruce grabbed his Ipod and suddenly felt driven to go into his house

 and change his clothes. After all, he needed to be ready to jog today!

 He grabbed a large pair of Adidas shorts and a comfy old T-shirt (never

 being one to show up much while working out around town, at the gym

 was one thing when hot chicks were around, but there were too many fags

 around town, he didn’t want to give them a show).

However, when Bruce walked out of his door, he had on an extremely

 tight pair of Under Armour black briefs which left nothing whatsoever to

 the imagination, and no top at all.

“Damn, ask and ye shall receive,” Bruce’s stereotypical neighbor


“You said it, queen,” his friend replied.

And the universe snickered right along with them.


After jogging Bruce did not know what to do with himself. He had the

 day off, and still had all this energy. Maybe he needed to get high.

 That would definitely calm him down some, plus, it wasn’t like he had to

 do anything today. Heading out to get high, maybe grab some yummy

 food later, hit up a bar; suddenly his day unraveled in front of him like

 a slinky falling down the stairs.

So he called one of his stable of fags who he let appreciate him

 (visually, of course, and only from afar, nothing gay, really), asking if

 they could get him any pot.

“Bitch, I ain’t heard from you in weeks, and now you suddenly expecting

 me to deliver? Whatever!” the fag bitched out Bruce.

“Dude, I’m dieing here, and you won’t even have to come to me this

 time! I’ll come to your place in…..uh, where do you live again?” Bruce

 begged, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to follow his slinky plan.

“Downtown, bitch, by Ramrod! You know, you borrowed my TV once? The

 one I never saw again?” the fag ranted.

“Ramrod? That fucking fag leather bar? Whatever, man, can I just get

 some pot or not, Bob? I’ll owe you one.” Bruce pleaded.

“Owe me one, you owe me one already. You owe me enough where you

 should be coming into that fag leather bar and doing whatever I want! But,

 fine, I need the money anyway, you can come over in half an hour.” Bob

 gave in, planning on way overcharging him.

“Thank you so much, dude,” Bruce said. “I’ll be there!”

“I’d like to see you in here, in leathers and begging like you should

 be, bitch,” Bob muttered while he hung up the phone, thinking no one was


The thing is, someone’s always listening. Just ask any celebrity



Bruce sauntered into Bob’s apartment in his usual jockboy gait. He sat

 down and glared at Bob in his usual bored, I’m-just-here-to-use-you

 way. And he brought his wallet right out in an effort to hurry along

 business like always.

However, this time, he was decked out in leather shorts, a leather

 harness, leather wrist bracelets, leather boots, and a leather collar, with

 a tight fitting leather jacket on top. He was a perfect, muscled,

 tight vision in leather.

“Very fucking funny, Bruce,” Bob yelled.

“What are you talking about?” Bruce shot back. “Can I just get my


“Sure, once you get on your knees and beg for it like the horny leather

 boy you APPARENTLY are!” Bob shouted back, clearly losing his


“Okay,” Bruce shrugged. He got right off the chair and onto his knees,

 looking up at Bob, and pleading with his hands up in the air.

 “Please, sir, may I get my pot?”

Bob was too stunned to continue being pissed, and couldn’t help but be

 a little turned on by this situation. Plus, he never even imagined

 Bruce would ever do anything like this. Was he getting Punked or


“I’ll do anything, sir,” Bruce said, suddenly seeming like he was in a


“Stand up,” Bob tested, half expecting at any second a camera crew to

 jump out, or just for Bruce to deck him.

“Yes, sir,” Bruce answer, unflinching and unchanged. He stood right

 up, never breaking

his gaze from Bob’s. Bob didn’t even think he’d ever looked him in the

 eyes this long.

“Kiss me,” Bob ordered. And Bruce leaned over (was Ashton Kutcher

 coming through Bob’s door?), walked a step closer to finish off the

 distance (any arms being raised up defiantly?), and kissed Bob, full on the


Bob was floored. Here was the walking king stereotype of macho jock

 guys. Maybe it really was true what they said about all homophobic

 guys……Bob couldn’t even think for a moment, as all of the possibilities of a

 leather covered Bruce hit him at once.

But he certainly knew where to start.

“Get on your knees, bitch!”


Bruce walked out of Bob’s place hours later, slightly sore, wiping cum

 from his mouth, and utterly unsure of why he had done anything he just

 did. He didn’t enjoy any of it, it was completely unlike him, and yet,

 he did it without hesitation. Would he do the same again? Was he gay

 now that someone came on him and fucked him up the ass? What the hell

 was happening to him? He walked past a couple of houses and then

 forgot about walking entirely, he was so confused and scared.

He kept thinking over the long list of things he and Bob has just

 done. Where all of those things even, like, legal?! And suddenly, trying

 to come to grips with all this, he realized he was covered in leather.

 Where the hell did these clothes come from? What the fuck was going

 on?! And why, above all else, was his cock suddenly hard?

Bruce was so confused; he did not know a lot of things. Like, for

 example, the fact that the clock and date had changed, or that, on a fine,

 fair weekend night like tonight, the leather bar was jam packed to the

 filling, and many of it’s customers were out enjoying a smoke (cock or

 otherwise) and a boy in the yard. He also knew nothing of the universe

 and it’s many tricks and schemes. Or that he was about to enter into

 his third and final stage of universal revenge.

“Hey, boy!” some random voice yelled from the bar across the street.

 Bruce immediately turned around and responded.

“Yes, sir?” Bruce inquired, suddenly getting harder (and he was aware

 of it, and while most of him was scared, a growing part of him was

 loving this).

“Get over here, boy, my cock needs attention now!” the voice


“Absolutely, sir!” Bruce squealed, suddenly overfilled with lust and

 glee. He ran towards the voice, suddenly so hot and hard, and it felt so

 good. Fuck all that other stuff he was worried about, it was time to

 have some fun!

While once again, the universe chuckled.

And maybe touched itself a bit, too.


In Defiance, Deference, and Servitude to Others Part 3

By Xanderboy

      Tight, sweaty muscles encased in leather. A hand on his head.

 Drool escaping from the corners of his mouth as he vigorously sucked.

 Dirtiness upon dirtiness only making it hotter. A burning need boiling

 up from within, forcing his body to move, his mouth to work, his mind

 to degenerate, his needs to the forefront. Cock. Leather.

Muscle. Naked. Manliness.

Bruce blinked and refocused his attention, his mind having wandered

 off, and suddenly felt an increased rush of awareness. Why was he

 standing in front of this bar? Why would he even come to this bar?! Then he

 let his physical body catch up with him. The tight, constricting

 material that constantly lit his body and desires afire. His hard (what?)

 cock barely held back in his tight shorts. His submissive gaze and

 posture to this large, burly, hairy stranger he had just met in front of

 him. He felt so lost and confused, so alienated and wrong, and yet so

 incredibly, blissfully right. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he

 wanted this. With each passing second, he wanted it and accepted it

 more and more. He did feel almost supernaturally connected. Like this

 was his destiny, like it was meant to be almost.

Bruce shook his head again. No, he thought, surely this wasn’t right!

 He had never imagined or wanted anything like this! He wasn’t some

 pussy bitch to be taken by some old, ugly guy. He was a real man, his

 own man, nobody else’s man! He never liked men. He was determined to

 just walk away from this pervert. He decided that was just what he was

 going to do, get up, and walk away. He stood up from the table, and

 looked at the man who minutes ago had beckoned him over.

“Where you going, bitch?” the man demanded, after slowly sucking on his

 cigar and staring his boy down.

“Nowhere, sir,” Bruce responded.

The man chuckled, and patted Bruce on the ass. The man’s hand on

 Bruce’s ass felt amazing. Bruce immediately wanted to stick it out and rub

 it up against his hand, begging for more.

“Then sit back down, boy, while I finish my cigar.”

“Yes, sir,” Bruce said, with a bit of a lisp. Bruce immediately sat

 back down, wondering why he was doing it. At the same time, he reveled

 in his hard cock, in the smell of leather, and the memory of the feeling

 of this large man (whose name Bruce didn’t even know) and his hand on

 Bruce’s ass.

“I like to suck on a nice cigar before I get my cock sucked,” the man

 added after Bruce sat.

“Mmm,” Bruce involuntarily moaned, “Yes, sir.” He didn’t mean that,

 why did he say that? Bruce wondered. Earlier with Bob was one thing,

 there was something wrong then, he was like a robot or something. Maybe

 he ate something weird and was sick or whatever, but now he was fine.

 He knew what he was doing, and he did not want this. And he really was

 going to get up and walk away now.

The man reached under the table while smoking, interrupting Bruce’s

 rebellion planning, and fondled Bruce’s groin. Even through the tight,

 thick, sweaty leather, his hand felt like electricity. Bruce felt almost

 honored that this man was even caring enough to touch him there. This

 big, hot, hairy man whose entire chest (sagging breasts and gut and

 all; which at first made Bruce sick but now only made him hotter) could

 be seen for anyone as he had no shirt on. He also wore a tight pair of

 leather chaps (clearly too big for him) and a leather g-string which

 barely held his cock. As it was his balls sagged out on the bottom. His

 hairy, delicious to Bruce looking balls….

“Damn it!” Bruce yelled.

“What the fuck is wrong, bitch,” the man yelled back at him.

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what is going on, sir” Bruce whined, a

 look of definite fear in his eyes. He swore he wanted to leave, but part

 of him was so drawn to this man. Even just the smell that wafted over

 in front of him. Part of Bruce wanted to climb up on that hairy body

 and lick that smell of him, that smell of real man. He wanted to shove

 it up his mouth and nose and worship it fully. Yeah, Bruce wanted his

 hairy Master.

“Don’t worry, boy,” the man said, putting out his cigar in the ash

 tray. He got up and stood up in front of Bruce, standing above him and

 slightly into him, forcing Bruce to move back a bit and let this man on


Bruce’s cock felt alive, Bruce’s skin was on fire. The leather made it

 even more intense. Bruce felt so good he no longer cared about

 thinking or getting out there as much. He pushed that worry to the back of

 his mind as he ground his cock against his Master’s invading knee, and

 then hand. He leaned his head back giving his Master access properly as

 his mouth was invaded. He felt the warm, hairy body above him start

 to press down on him and claim him as he the inside of his face and

 groin were mauled and felt up. And it got Bruce so excited he couldn’t

 even breathe right, he couldn’t think, he could only feel how good this

 felt. How right.

“Get up and come with me, boy,” his Master growled in his ear.

“Yes, Master,” Bruce complied. He quickly jumped to his feet once his

 Master moved off of him and walked right behind him, as his Master

 latched two fingers onto the front of his shorts, right by the tip of his

 cock, and pulled him along. Even just this little act made Bruce feel

 so warm and sexy. How had he never done this before? It really felt so

 good, better than anything he had even done with a girl.

“Come along, faggot,” Master barked.

“Yes, sir,” Bruce surprisingly quickly responded.

“And thank you, sir,” Bruce added after thinking for a moment. It felt

 like the right thing to say.

“What’s your name, boy,” Master questioned while he led his boy through

 an extremely crowded club. Bruce was somehow turned on even more by

 this, all these people brushing up against him. Especially that they

 were seeing him like this, not only in these hot, tight clothes, but

 being led by this sexy man. Seeing him as Bruce was realizing he truly

 was, like the hot leather bitch he should be.

“Bruce, sir.”

“Heh,” Master chuckled. “Faggy name for a faggy boy, no big surprise.”

“Thanks, sir.” Bruce giggled as well, not noticing he was now speaking

 with a bit of a lisp. And also that when he “dropped character” a

 little bit out of his slave boy mode, he was prancing around a bit with

 his hands. Even now while walking his right hand was limp and out, in a

 position he was always conscious of never allowing before. But he was

 too caught up to notice. He was just letting it all hang out, letting

 these sexy new feelings overwhelm him and lap over him like an ocean of

 forbidden, new lust. More and more, he wanted to drown in it.

He had been led through a large club full of other sexy many in various

 stages of nudity, into a smaller area in the back, through a couple

 rooms, and into a dark, red room, where lots of moaning and smells

 reverberated throughout. Bruce inhaled it all greedily.

Master stopped in front of him, and reached down, releasing his

 magnificence from it’s g-string confines. Without a word, he grabbed Bruce’s

 head and started to push him down.

The universe held it’s breath, as this was the moment. Time froze for

 Bruce, and all of his

emotions from the night came rushing back. His detachment and

 confusion with Bob, his lust for this man, his new feelings of hedonism and

 sexuality, his straightness, it all came smashing together, as he knew he

 was supposed to get down on his knees and take this man’s cock in his

 mouth. He knew he wanted to as well, but that he shouldn’t want to. It

 wasn’t right, it wasn’t who he was.

His cock felt so good, though. It kept pushing to the front of his

 mind. Absent mindedly, he was even stroking the front of it through the

 leather confines. Drool had formed on the side of his mouth, and of all

 the things he could be looking at he was still staring, unblinkingly,

 at his Master’s cock. What was he so worried about? Did he really

 care anymore? He just wanted to feel this, to feel hot and good. He

 moved forward, getting on his knees, and time sputtering caught up with


“No,” Master slapped Bruce’s hand away from his groin. “Only I touch

 you there without permission.” Bruce nodded, still getting onto his

 knees and getting in position.

“Yes, sir.” Bruce looked up at his Master’s hot body, his amazing,

 thick, huge cock, and into his dark, penetrating eyes, and gave up. He

 didn’t care what it made him. Queen Fagra of the Fagazons he may be, he

 wanted this hot man’s cock in his mouth right fucking now.

And he leaned forward and took it.

It was like nothing he had ever before experienced. So salty and yummy

 and hot. From such a normally gross and sweaty region, which was now

 suddenly the sexiest thing he could imagine. He licked all over his

 Master’s cock, his balls, his hairy, red, hot groin. Licking and

 consuming everything there. The more he saw his Master get hard and pleased,

 he himself got hotter and harder. Without even touching himself he

 could feel the pre-cum pile up in his leather shorts. He was barely

 breathing through his nose and still going to town on this cock. It felt so

 good, he felt so good. So hot, so real, so gay. He was a faggot.

 And he loved it. He LOVED it! He loved cock!

Without realizing it was about to happen or even thinking about it, he

 grunted hard, stopped his sucking involuntarily, and came. He came the

 most incredibly orgasm of his life. He came so hard he forgot who he

 was and what he was doing. So much so that he was horrified when he

 remembered he was on his knees in front of a hairy, gross old man, with

 his drippy cock centimeters away from his face. And he loved it. And

 that horror and shame only made it hotter, made him gayer, made him feel


“Bad boy!” Master shouted, yanking Bruce up by his collar and turning

 him around. “Now you don’t get to suck my cock anymore!” Bruce whined

 and felt horrible all of the sudden, ashamed of his lack of self

 control. He let his body go limp so his Master could move him around as he

 pleased, hoping this would appease him.

“And now I’m also not gonna bother with any stupid lube, either!”

 Master shouted, having forced Bruce’s body to turn around fully in front of

 him. He then firmly and quickly smacked Bruce’s ass and shoved his


“Now bend over, bitch!”

Bruce bent over, slightly confused and upset, still, but rapidly

 forgetting about it as even just his Master’s hands on him made him feel

 hotter. Let alone the realization of what was about to happen to him.

“Now, just to make it clear, boy, no touching yourself and certainly no

 cumming without my explicit permission,” Master ordered while yanking

 Bruce’s head back firmly from his hair. Bruce could hardly stand the

 pain but he attempted to stay bent over for his Master and nodded his

 obeisance. “Good.”

Master suddenly and swiftly jammed his cock into Bruce. Bruce’s ass

 lit up with pain, and he could barely stand it, let alone stay bent

 over. But he grit his teeth and bore it, still hard and determined to

 please his Master. Even with all the pain he had to stop himself from

 jacking off, for just the act of being a good slave for his Master turned

 him on so much. He would have to learn quickly it was not his cock

 anymore, it belonged to his Master.

Slowly the pain began to ebb, and he felt even hotter. Bruce was

 getting cock up his ass, getting fed his Master’s masculinity, getting

 bitched. And he loved it. He grunted and groaned, taking it like a champ,

 more and more feeling his prostrate and ass come alive with pleasure.

“Yeah, take it, boy, while I bitch you and make you mine,” Master

 grunted. “I knew you’d have a nice, sloppy ass.” And even though he’d

 never been fucked up the ass before, he did. Bruce didn’t question it,

 either, as if he truly did have a sloppy, used ass all along.

“Oh, thank you, sir,” Bruce grunted. “Oh, yes.” Bruce felt like his

 mind was gone, all that existed was this man’s cock and his ass. “Oh,

 god, yes, fuck me!” Bruce lisped. “FUCK ME, SIR!”

“Yeah, faggot, you take it, bitch!” Master shouted, fucking him harder,

 almost knocking him over.

“Yeah, fuck my faggot ass! Make me your bitch, sir! TAKE ME! I need

 your cock! I love it! I want it!” Bruce couldn’t stop himself; it was

 like the floodgates had opened. “Oh, yeeeesssss! Fuck me fuck me

 fuuuuucccckkkk me!”

“You may cum when I do, boy,” Master whispered, on the precipice.

Both of them started grunting and moving harder and harder together,

 until finally Master yelled and grunted, cumming into his boy’s ass,

 right as Bruce let out a high pitch squeal and cum started pouring out of

 his boy cock. Bruce moaned a high pitched moan all the while he came,

 and rubbed it around his body.

“Mmmm, thanks, sexy,” Bruce said after, climbing of the cock. “I

 really needed that.” Bruce, lisping away, also absent mindedly reached into

 his asshole. He dipped his finger in the cum and suckled on it, while

 his other hand traced his own cum around his chest.

“That was one fierce fucking!”

“No, problem, boy,” Master sighed, still reeling from his intense

 orgasm. Bruce stood, half naked from the waist down, cum dripping out of

 his ass, hands all limp wrested, lisping, and post coital; and he

 realized he felt the best he had ever felt. He loved cock so much. And he

 quickly forgot about anything else.


That night Bruce had one final, vivid dream. He was in his leather

 chaps, assless, fucking himself with a dildo and jacking himself off, in

 hog heaven, when two men walked up to him.

Both men had strange blurs in front of their faces. Bruce could not

 understand why but he could not see them, almost like he was watching

 Cops or something. They had the same kind of body type, and were the same

 size as Bruce. In fact, when Bruce stood up, he realized they were

 exactly eye to eye. The man on the left looked like your typical frat

 boy; cheesy, silver jewelry, Greek letters on his shirt, jeans, nothing

 special or different. The man on the right was a hot leather god;

 collared harnessed, pierced, tattooed, muscled, sweaty, smooth perfection.

They both stood like automatons, and Bruce felt like he was supposed to

 present something to them.

“What do you want, faggot?” the man on the left scowled.

“You are fucking hot, bitch,” the man on the right lusted.

Bruce kneeled in front of the man on the right, automatically, and was

 overwhelmed with the feeling of lust. He suddenly was writhing under

 the man as he was fucked by him, was sucking him off while on his knees,

 was jutting back and forth into all kinds of sexual positions with

 him. All the while the other faceless man stood in scorn. Bruce looked

 over at him and felt bad for him. He reached one of his free hands out

 and started jerking him off. At first, the man stayed soft and

 resisted, but quickly he started to harden and moan. And suddenly a glowing

 light surrounded both men. Bruce was thrown off of his partner, and

 lied on the floor in front of the two of them as they lit up. They

 reached over to each other and walked into each other, becoming one. Bruce

 could no longer look at them and looked away, realizing the light was


Just as the light stopped Bruce started to feel an empty longing in his

 and mouth. He realized the light had stopped and he looked up and saw

 himself, encased in leather, hot and sweaty, hard cock in hand.

“Bend over, faggot,” he told himself.

“Yes, sir!” he squealed in delight, immediately bent over.

And the universe finally came.