He Was Restraining Himself, But He Was Ready To Punch Somebody. He Had No Idea How Many People Were In

He pauses for a photo. Being covered in cum is as nothing for him, but quite desirable for a number of clients. Between each session, we’ll take another photo. It becomes a kind of time-lapse progression. Ultimately, he will be available to some clients who will quite relish licking him clean.

"All done? Good. Just leave the towel there. Nice shower, yes? Felt good? Wonderful. Right this way. We have you for someone."

It was quite the late night, but he was pleased with the work we’d done and the help I’d given him. He could tell I was pretty tired, too; told me I could take a nap or even stay the night if I needed. I let him know I definitely needed it. I rubbed my face and gently massaged my own scalp for a moment. I heard my boss asking me what I needed and I opened my eyes to answer him. He had moved in front of me and was just standing there… at attention…fully erect. I was incredulous. I told myself there was no way I was looking at my boss’s cock… no way I was staring at a long, stiff piece of pink and red flesh poking from his business suit. I had to have fallen asleep already. It was really hate, I must have been dreaming about the pressure of the new position… but if it was a dream and I could tell, I might as well follow things through and process these thoughts manifesting in a penis.

Dream or not, I never tried to look away from that cock and begged to know what it was like. My boss smiled and said if I wanted a taste, I was going to have to come and get it. Come and get it, he told me. It was like the welcome to feed a hunger. Was I hungry? I did want to get his whole thing behind me, but …

Barry had been working on Nelson for a while, now. Nelson even tended to walk around with his dick hanging plainly out. Whenever Nelson got a hard-on, or whenever Barry just wanted to play with it, Barry would sit in front of Nelson and have some fun swallowing it until Nelson’s cum gushed its way into Barry’s throat.

Nelson had been made to believe it was just part of an afternoon. He did used to work there and actually do things, but Barry now had him well trained to just stand around by Barry all day, as if waiting for something. He was less and less often even bothering to speak. Training was going very well.

Now and again, he commands me to look up from my position, lovingly devotedly near permanently willfully forever on my hairy hard man master’s cock. My view changes from the small patch of hairy skin just above the shaft that keeps going into my mouth. Instead, I see the hairy belly, chest, pecs neck stubble chin and reassuringly stern face of man god master. I never see his eyes, because he wears glasses that reflect what he sees. I see nothing, because I am nothing but for his cock. I know where I am supposed to be, slobbering swallowing choking gurgling licking worshiping loving master’s cock. Sometimes he orders me to the water room to bathe, cleaning me and refreshing me for my position around the shaft of the manhood essence of master, ready for my belly to be filled with the beloved juices of beloved god man master. As we move about, he orders me to follow or stay and when he stops, I know where I am to be: I am his cock ornament, keeping him wet and hard and throbbing, no thought for myself as I choke and sit with my non breathing nose blocked pressed to him, to master, to the full length of master’s man cock until and after it fills me with his love.

Initiation, they said. Finally, he just agreed to strip. He waded into the stream and turned around to see if that was satisfactory. Most of the guys were watching, but just standing there. After a moment, he asked how long he needed to stay out there for it to count as being done. Only one of the men called back, just saying he had to wait until they were ready. He sighed and just watched them, focus moving from man to man. The few who weren’t also watching him were setting up other aspects of camp, like the fire pit and cooking area, not just tents. Idly, as one of the guys bent over, he fondled himself, sort of a light scratch, but he had settled with his shaft sort of in his palm.

Suddenly, he realized more than one of the guys who had been simply standing there staring at him, were actually getting undressed, as well. He wondered if that meant everyone was about to give up on this silly initiation and join him in the water. He watched them intently, eyes taking in all the furry flesh he could, noting some of them … were more bald than others… He hadn’t properly recognized yet, but all the men staring at him were now naked, a bank of furry man flesh stood before him, and he was gently jerking himself, penis still flaccid. … but it began to grow.

He wondered why he was still just standing there, staring at all those dicks who were staring at him. A couple of them were stiff, already; the men gently stroking their erections as they stared at him. He could see the expectation and the hope in their eyes and posture. He didn’t consciously recognize it, but he saw their lust, as well. His penis was thicker than before, too large for just one palm, now, although still very limp. Rebalancing himself, he put his back foot ahead of him, effectively stepping closer to the cocks. More of them were erect, now. He could imagine the cocks as the perfect shape to fit inside holes; and he actively thought of his two holes and how those cocks would fit, in turn.

He wanted those cocks in holes; in his holes. His own cock was stretching out in front of him now, rigid but still swelling. He staggered another couple of steps forward, hands in the air at his sides for balance, eyes intently focus on penis, glancing back and forth between the lot of them, wanting them. Wanting them in him. His gaze settled on just one cock, anxiously lowering his head nearer an appropriate level, bracing his arms on his thighs as he leaned forward just slightly, drooling. Then he saw one of the men gesture, backing him from the water. He staggered forward again, but didn’t stop. The man who gestured was now holding out a hand, presenting his cock. He approached the cock, feeling he should touch it with his mouth. His arms swung clumsily at his sides as he slotted into position, shoving his first cock to the back of his mouth.

He choked, but didn’t try to withdraw. The hand reaching out for him was now cradling his skull, condoning if not holding him in position. Other hands were touching him, brushing down from his head, over his shoulders, through his hair, down his back, supporting him as they pulled his legs straight, hips in the air, ass presented as his face struggled with his new position on cock. Fingers helped work him open, wet and slippery, before the men progressed to their plan: spit roasting the new guy after they tricked him into standing in the water.

Something in the water had an effect on people, particularly on men. Their cocks might become erect indefinitely, but they would definitely suddenly have an insatiable hunger for man penis. His previous identity was all but gone and he would only yearn to be supplied with dick, impose himself on penis, drink unending loads of cum and never try to wear clothes ever again. Slave to cock and eternally hungry to be filled, holes loose and open, always ready to take the longest cocks to their root.

There was no proof a simple splash didn’t also affect men somehow, but any man that got a little wet from what the Target brought back to shore, never made much difference. Everyone knew they were probably fine and it must be something about prolonged or built up exposure; so while they didn’t worry about getting a little wet, they stayed the hell away from the water’s edge.

Any man that did the same as he did would end up just as used, a cum dump for the group that brought him in. They even had him clean up with bath later on, this time properly bathing in the stream. During the drive back, the new cum dump was always begging for at least one penis to suck. After several men, they had learned if you just give him a penis to suckle, he goes right to sleep for the whole trip and if you need to you can cum right in his throat. He’ll probably drink it down without even waking up.

He’s been sending these selfies for a few days now. He sees no harm in it. He sees no harm in it as he continues to send selfies even when his penis is erect inside his underwear. Then, he’s asked how his boner feels, trapped inside the underwear. It’s always the same. Some selfies and some questions; a new ask for the selfies and then more questions. The questions focus his observation. When he answers about his trapped boner, it is about confinement and discomfort. He is told to remove the underwear and send another selfie. His next image shows his erection, prominent and bouncing. The call for a selfie comes in at random times, but more and more often, so he has learned to remain dressed as requested. When he sends a picture with a flaccid penis, he is told to bring back the erection. Learning from his mistake, he keeps himself erect at all times, so he can send the correct selfie. It was the same as when he threw away all his shirts, so he could be sure not to wear one.

The next series of selfies show how he has deteriorated under constant erection. The longer he stays erect, the more he slowly crawls up toward climax, barely recognizing the passing hours as he forgets everything but jerking himself off and sending pictures of his rolling eyes, droopy jaw, drooling mouth. Suddenly, there’s a second person in the photos. There’s a selfie with him in the background, then they’re no longer selfies. The photos change from a man standing with an erection in a bathroom, to a man jerking himself off and lying on a bed. Each image in the series show how he continues to jerk himself off even with his legs spread wide and a dildo first aimed at and then disappearing inside his asshole. His asshole is not visible in the full body image, but the size and length of the dildo are clear. When it is gone except for the arc anchoring the rod to his sphincter, a second appears beside him as a reminder of what’s inside. It isn’t the end of the image collection, however. It is only the beginning of his oral training.

***

The Client displays each image to a group of men. These men are all interested to see a man reprogrammed. They are unaware they have become Targets. Men wishing to leave are isolated and subjected to personal reprogramming. Those that remain in the room begin to undress themselves as the man in the images is filled with real man cock. They jerk themselves as they watch hardcore pornography together. They jerk each other off and embrace each others’ shoulder. They press themselves together until mouths touch skin. More than one turns around to find himself facing the pair of cocks in the row of seats behind and crawls into place for worship. They devolve into an orgy they do not wake from. The men who tried to leave are returned, naked and Lusting. Then, after a week of redieting and mindless obedience of cock, they are sold.

Gene couldn’t remember what they had been talking about. The guy in the hoodie suddenly kissed him. It was just a closed-mouth touch, at first, but it was firm and he didn’t bounce back or stop; he stayed pressed. Gene used a hand to push him away, but it was just his arm and they were still kissing when Gene opened his mouth to say something. Instead of Gene saying something, the still pressed lips of the hoodie guy seemed to press something into Gene’s mouth. He spent a moment wiggling his tongue, trying to find it and then realized he was still face to flattened face with this total stranger… This totally… sexy stranger. Gene parted his lips again and something else slipped into his mouth: the tantalizingly wet tongue of that hot guy in the alley who was so adamant about kissing. Gene relented. This time Gene’s hand pulled the arm closer. That’s when the sexy alley guy started removing Gene’s clothes. All the while they were lip locked, he removed one article at a time; unbuttoning here, unzipping there, slipping off this way and that. Slowly, Gene became naked; all the while almost completely focused on staying firmly in direct physical contact, mouth to mouth with this stranger he met in the alley. Slobber was dripping down Gene’s chest from it; and he continued dribbling on himself as they alley guy directed the naked and mindless Gene to a room full of his collection: mindless naked hairy men who couldn’t stop molesting any man within reach.