It Began With A Tat

It Began With A Tat

Emile 2010

Usual caveats apply - Please obey the laws of your jurisdiction.

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He was in the biggest K hole of his life, and was powerless to resist them.  It seemed like only minutes ago that they'd been on the dance floor, chatting about how it was his birthday, in a new town, all alone.  They'd seemed so friendly, so masculine and strong.  He'd felt the thrill of the unknown, and had gobbled up the little blue vials they'd popped in his mouth with a suggestive fingerfuck of his tongue, loving the risk of getting blasted and maybe even getting fucked.  Yeah, they were fucking him royally now.

In fact it had been pretty extreme from the start.  While they were still in the club, seeing Riley all hot and horny, ketamine beginning to course through his system, two of them had bundled him into a cubicle, one's tongue down his throat while the other slipped in under his jeans and fingered his tight arsehole.  He'd bucked a little but the tonguefucker had grabbed his head with both hands, and the arseplunger had his free arm wrapped around Riley's midsection, pinning his arms down, so he could neither protest nor resist.  One finger became two, then three, as the hot fucker crammed his digits into Riley's fresh hole like it was pudding, slamming them in and pulling them out like he was stuffing a No 6 chicken.  The other guy had scooted back, pushing Riley's face down his lithe body until his face was planted on his pulsing fat dick instead.  The rugged farmboy had never been used like this before, and as much as he tried to enjoy it, he felt dangerously out of control.  Soon enough he was completely out of control - unable to do anything - but they just kept facefucking and fingering him anyway.

When the guy facefucking him got close to cumming, he got real sloppy, spurting little squirts of precum, jamming his cock in hastily so it slammed into his cheeks and throat, but he managed to lean forward, kiss the other guy strongly, and tell him to 'get the fucker ready'.  Riley heard it, as if from a foreign planet, and as the front guy leant back and grabbed his dickroot, ready to slam in hard and shoot, the other guy withdrew his fingers, pulled something from his back pocket and lined it up with Riley's slightly reddened cherry. "Oh yeah baby" he growled as the facefucker slammed forward, driving his pulsing dork down Riley's throat, and forcing him back, to be impaled on the blunt object pushed against his sphincter.  The rubber dong was fat and ribbed, and put him in extreme discomfort, like he was being filled up from  both ends.  The fucksauce overflowed his face, dripping down over his matted chest, coating the farmboy with jizz, while his hole was reamed out by the facefucker's partner.  "Whoa boy, this will be fun".  While the guy let his drippy dick subside, he spun around, planting his sweaty trench on Riley's lips.  Having just been face fucked and dildo raped, he now found himself buried in the guys rauncy hole, forced to lick out the pucker while the other guy worked the fake dong in and out of his own sore hole.  When they calmed down a bit from the double fuck, they pushed the fat dong to the hilt, yanked up his pants, wiped the worst of the blow on his sleeve and hauled him out of the club, arms over their shoulders, nodding to the bouncers.  Riley desperately tried to lock eyes with the ruthless enforcers, but they seemed oblivious to his plight, even helping them bundle him into a cab.  Helplessly, they dragged him to their mates, and the party made its way to the next, private, venue.

It was a while later now, and Riley looked and felt a lot less like a farmboy.  One of the men, who'd stripped off his gloves since their emasculating hair removal, now stood close, kneeding his arse with four fingers while he spoke.

"Oh, you're probably feeling real naked now, with your big musclebound body all smooth and exposed, eh boy.  A young stud like you must feel real dirty having your junk hanging low and heavy on display, with not a hair to hide it."  He was, of course, having been a pretty regular joe before then, lightly dusted in blonde hair.  Now it was gone he felt obscene.  "Tell you what, we'll do you a favour and ink in some threads for you."

A cold sweat passed over Riley, as they spread his thick thighs and strapped them in place.  "I guess a nice V shaped thatch might make the thick root of your dork less obscene.  Then again, you are a dumb dickditch, perhaps something a bit more appropriate..." Riley tried to protest, but his tongue was still thick and sluggish.  His attempts to protest were quickly muffled as the tattooist shoved a timber block in his jaw to bite on, making him drool incoherently instead.  "... yah, so what's triangular and ... I know!"  He whispered something to the tattooist, who began his work.  Riley crunched his chin on his chest, the valley between his pecs and abs giving him a bird-eye view of the action.  He watched with horror as the tattooist began drawing a triangular wedge of swiss cheese in perspective, floating two inches above his cockroot.  When he was done, they looked at it a while, before adding some features - wafting clouds rising up, a pool of liquid below - that made the cheese into a stinking cheese. Still unsatisfied, the tattooist added a big mousetrap below the cheese, with a nasty looking iron spike sticking through the top.  The lines of the mousetrap ran down the sides of his meat, so his whole junk was enclosed in square lines of the board and steel trap.  The pain of the lines tattooed across his perenium was excruciating, and never went below a dull throb.  Riley couldn't see, but the final touch was another sharp rusty hook tattooed directly below his ballbag, holding the steel trap ready to snap over his dick at any moment.

"Man, maybe we better explain what it means - you know, in case an unsuspecting partner is okay with foul cheese" he said with a smirk.  The filthy picture was pretty bad, but the tattooist played the game, 'suggesting' that a danger symbol on his dangling pork roll would do the trick.  The guys all agreed, and to Rileys horror, they set out to tattoo the 'biohazard' symbol directly on the centre of his fleshy shaft - two inches high and wrapping around both sides. It took almost half an hour, and the guys restraining him tightly, to ink his soft, defenceless dickflesh.  They stretched it out first, inking across the shaft, so it'd be clearly legible as it hung down semi-tumescent below the vile picture.

The guys were all sporting bulges in their sweatpants, clearly getting off on the involuntary marking of the teenage hunk, and soon new improvements were flowing - the tattooist himself continued the liquid from the base of the cheese, making it drip down the inside of his thigh in spattered ropes, becoming a swirling pattern that wrapped around his calf muscle to the ankle. Now, even wearing shorts, the suggestion of dickleak would be permanently visible as a huge tattoo on his leg.  Then they flipped him over, forcing his head down between his pliable well-fucked legs so he was nose to ballbag, eyeballing the new filthy ink marks. In this awkward pose, smelling his ripe meat and staring at the huge Biohazard mark, they had full access to his broad back, and they made use of it, turning his flying traps and muscular tapering back into a billboard for cheap sex, reading:

MAKE ME AN OFFER

Bruised Low Hanging Fruit

Juicy Picked Cherry

Heavy Thick Banana

Moist Ripe Cheese

Roasted Nuts

Soft Melons

and finally, in smaller letters on his lower back just above his bulging arsecheeks, "DEPOSITS TAKEN".

"Hey", one guy said "maybe something for his udders."  Riley had a fantastic torso, perfectly symmetrical bulging square pecs that were mirrored in a rigid row of abdominal muscles that marched down his long body, tapering to a tight narrow incised waist.  Once it had all been covered in a soft fuzz of brown body hair, but now the canvas was smooth and blank, stripped permanently clean.  They'd explained that as they went, how permanent the lotion was it would burn every fucking follicle it touched.  Unlike their swarthy bodies (which they'd gloved up and protected at that point), he was now completely smooth.  One piped up "How about:

MILK MAN

Squeeze Dry Milk Jugs

Kneed my Udder

Riley's eyes watered at the idea, as they explained exactly what they meant.  "Yeah, we're gonna make those tits swell and sore until they squirt juice.  Riley managed a gutteral groan, but instead of the protest, only managed to drool a little spit on his perfect, soon-to-be ruined pecs. "Whoa boy easy" they said, "we want you uncomfortable, but it's that low hanging bag that'll be much more fun to play with."  They squeezed his already aching ballbag for emphasis.  It's your udder there, swinging low and heavy, that will need to be much more full and heavy before it gets released.  We're gonna inject this drug here right into the centre of each nad, it'll make them burn and itch and swell like crazy.  Combined with some heavy duty stretching and you'll be sporting aching swinging jumbo bags in no time, real knee knockers.  Course with such freakishly long swollen nads it'll be real hard for you to squirt real boymilk again.  But hey, it'll be great fun to kneed and work over, and we can always fake a cumshot or get a fluffer to sub in.  For now, I'm gonna inject the first dose, and tie this here cord around your ankle, loop it around your nutbag, look there's enough slack that they barely go past mid-thigh - and now tie it off on your other ankle.  Whoa there boy, no squatting, stand tall and stretch those fuckers.  You'll have plenty of chances to squat down on the Python - your new 12" curved bedroom buddy, each night when you curl up for bed.

Talking of which, we better change that foreskin stretcher, we really want that uncut leather hooting over the helmet.  You'll be wishing you'd had this fuckhood cut off boy, we want it real ugly, a few inches of nasty skin drooping off your shiny aching glans.  Of course stretching it so fast really damages the fragile flesh, forms plenty of scar tissue, so your new cocktube is gonna be thick, dark and numb - real fun for our games, not so good for yours.  It'll be so long your plum cockhead ain't gonna see the light of day again - a real shame, it was quite a beauty, but watching you struggle with permanent hooting cheesy skin will be a fair trade for the loss.  Notice how the new stretcher also widens the skin out a bit more.  Real uncomfortable, isn't it.  After a few more goes, the skin will be loose enough we can start shoving plenty in there - billiard balls, vacuum cleaner nozzles, you name it.  Eventually we might even pierce those dickflaps with some nice ornaments - fishing sinkers or bells or something.  But first, I wanna roll back this skin so I can feed a nice big sound up that pisstube of yours.  Yeah, this will really scrape at the inside of your cock - tear at the lining and all, unless I use lube?  Want me to use some?  Just gotta say the word - what's that, you seem to be struggling there to get it out.  Oh well, too late, I'm gonna start pushing it in now.  You should've asked for some lube, really, cause this fat little fucker is gonna stuff your lips tight, and the choker at the head will grip your fat cockhead like a vise."

Riley's eyes were watering badly now, although it was hard to tell if it was the pain of having his dickhole fucked with the sound, or his stretched foreskin rolled back and widened, or just the anguish at knowing how badly and permanently they were fucking up his body.  He was in shock at the shaving and inking, in disbelief that any of it was permanent.  But a new hand on his tail, fingering his tender arsehole was a very familiar reminder that he was being raped and abused by these violators.

They started inking up his chest - the "MILK MAN" sign in large gothic letters arced across his clavicle like a necklace, spanning from high on one shoulder to the other and diving down in the middle, the "K" nestled against his deep pec valley.  This matched the "Make Me An Offer" on his back, a kind of deep scoop cut collar of filthy words that ringed his neck.  But uunlike the long humiliating list on his back which arched over his wide scapula and sat high on his V tapered torso, the rest of the list on his front they inked in smaller letters under his left pec, curving around to his side so the suggestions peeked out from under his arm - or would do when he was allowed to lower them.  Not only was it incredibly painful to tattoo that area, and still obvious to anyone that saw the tat, but it kept the majority of his chest and pecs free for further abuse, just a few corrugated muscles licked with the end of the suggestions.   The tattooist clearly decided this wasn't good enough, and taking one of his big brown nipples in hand with a pinch, decided they should have threads of their own.  Taking matters into his own hands, Riley was soon sporting two large thick lined stars - one around each aureole - like a Carnivale dancer slut from a Rio favela.  The last finishing touches were to add the sleeves and leg holes of his new flesh suit - thick black bands of ink that wrapped low around his wrists and high on his thighs - high up like a long sleeved wrestling suit that made his dangling junk seem even more obscene.  Despite the stabbing pain of those sensitive areas, the tattooist continued until each band was over two inches wide, like permanent leather slave bands.  "Now" he said with a sneer, holding Riley's cute farmboy face inches from his own as he spoke "when we strap you into a sling for a fuck, we'll know exactly where to buckle you in!"

On cue, two guys came up and grabbed the near-paralysed boy - one arm wrapped around his freshly inked thigh, the other grabbing his wrists.  They raised his hands and guided the palms to press on the back of his shaved head.  The buzz cut they'd left on his skull was so close that you could barely make out the blonde fuzz against his honeyed skin.  His arms naturally pumped as he clutched his head, the thick melon biceps bulging out towards his chiselled jaw, his smooth hollowed armpits framing the filthy tat bands as he pulled his chest tightly.  He was blessed with an awesome body, and even with his arms up, his flanged shoulderblades and heavy pecs were still clearly articulated.  Meanwhile, the two brutes grabbed his thighs tightly, pulling them up and out, stretching his crotch apart, working his arsecheeks and giving him some much needed slack on his nut tuggers.  The relief would be short lived though, as they carried him by his wrists and thighs across the room, to where their leader was slouched, watching the action.  He hadn't been at the club, in fact he'd barely moved since they'd dragged Riley in - just staring with his intent dark eyes.  He was a swarthy six foot thug whose hairy body bulged everywhere, and was lying casually, like he'd just woken up from bed, on a king sized mattress on the floor.

Like the mattress, he was filthy - dark skin covered in greasy licks of matted hair, making it hard to tell if he was African, Mexican, well tanned or just dirty.  In fact, true to his mongrel nature, he was a bit of everything. And by way of greeting his new blonde farmboy, he grinned his yellow teeth, and pushed his meaty paw away from his body, pulling the loose drawstring of his sweatpants with it, letting his had prong spring free.  It was like a long rough club - thick veins snaked up the sides of the flanged cock, the skin glistening a dusky brown, the precum and dried dickcheese giving it its own mesmerising appearance.  He grunted to the two muscle boys that had found Riley and were bringing him over, unfurling his other leg so his dick pointed up from between his wide legs.  The prong was like a wooden Noh doll, the thick untapering shaft mounted by a large bulbous knob the size of an apple.  It was inhumanly large and hard.  Unable to move a muscle to stop it, or even lift his heavy arms off the back of his head, Riley began moaning and sweating profusely as they brought him over and began lowering his bubble butt down towards the thickly hooded greasy cockhead. 

Riley was screaming on the inside, but could still only manage a long moan, writhing his head ineffectually as his inked body was lowered toward its target.  ""Eh ease up pretty boy" the greasy dude rasped, "you wanted to be a porn star, what'd you think was gonna happen?"  The message got through to Riley's mind, and the full horror became clear.  Those guys, the hot beefy big dicked sex freaks that had been feeling him up and leading him on, they were porn stars. There had been a show at the club, offering people the chance to 'be a porn star', and plenty of steroid freaks, their bodies and holes stretched from years of yearning, had vied for their place near the stage. But Riley was new to the scene, cute with a natural look, so he steered clear, preferring to chill at the bar and dance on his own chemical high.  That was until a really hot guy had come out from the dance floor, pecs heaving, and given him The Look.  Only now he realised what that really meant...

His journey to becoming a porn star - a filthy fuck whore one at that - was now irrevocably underway, and he was about to be skewered on the biggest ugliest tool he'd ever seen. He knew instinctively this fuck would be even worse than the double dicking in the club, and much more than his already stretched and sore hole could take.  But they were relentless.  When Riley's pucker first parted around the oily choad, it initially gave, the wrinkled skin opening up until it was stretched and tearing, forced down on the leaky head by his own weight and the two helpers.  Even though they'd fucked him in the club and fingered him plenty since, it was still only enough to widen it to start taking his blunt tool, and soon his cherry was stuck fast on the swollen skin sheathed glans.  "Give him a whiff of some poppers and bounce him up and down a bit, guys" the thug drawled, and they complied, soon sliding his huge frame further down the shaft as his head spun and his sphincter was smashed open.  "The first time this baby pops your cherry is the worst" the guy kept drawling "Sure your precious arsepucker will close a bit after, it's pretty elastic, but I'll tell you now it'll be stretched to regular sub proportions pretty quick.  And I like to fuck my new boys three or four times a day, so in a few days you should be able to fuck yourself on it without too much effort."  Riley's butt was gripping the shaft to midway now, his face a mask of pain. "We'll also be training your hole with an XL anal stretcher - the kind pro guys use to stretch out for their co-stars, just to make sure you're nice and loosened up.  Of course after two weeks and 50 odd fucks, there won't be much you can't take, but that's the idea, chump.  Now, start fucking him on me again, I wanna see if I can get 3/4 in on my first fuck!"