Be Careful What Fantasies You Tell Episode 3

Author: rubbery
Title: Be Careful What Fantasies You Tell [Episode 3]
Date: 11 June 2015

After some weird dreams, you wake up but not sure whether the dreaming has stopped. A beautiful hot muscled man looks over you and you see two rows of eight spikes making a metal mohawk in his head. The words ‘died’ and ‘heaven’ go through your thoughts. This is so fucking hot, but please, don’t let it be real. I know it’s what I’ve been jerking off to for oh so long, but that was just fantasy…

Mohawk says to you, ‘You OK, boi?’ You instinctively say’ Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!’ (Where does this response come from?)

OK. You need to just breathe deeply and slowly and just let a smile dawn across your gorgeous face. Your plain, pure, gorgeous face.

You feel some sort of head restraint fitted and you can no longer move your head in any direction. Suddenly a ball gag is thrust into your mouth at the same time you feel slimy wet something on your arse – no, up your arse. The chair you’re on has ‘rear access’ you realise. What feels like a few fingers start to work your arse and slowly after several minutes… maybe 30 minutes, it feels like four fingers are up there – no – no – it can’t be – my arse doesn’t stretch that…

You take a very large deep breath and know that Mohawk has his whole fist up your arse. This cannot be happening. It must takes months to… You feel his fingers and fist rotate and pleasure your insides and then what must be his index finger started to stroke your prostate. Not just stroke it, he’s flicking it hard with his finger. This is an unbelievable feeling – as though ten ton trucks are rolling up and down your prostate – it’s unbearable, bearable, unbearable, bearable, shiiiit! Oh my fuck, ahh, ahhh, ahhhh!

Mohawk wipes the cum off you and the chair with his free hand, then over what seems likes days slowly pulls his fist out of your arse – it’s like he’s pulling through miles and miles of tight skin. Finally his hand is freed and you start to feel like an ad for the Grand Canyon in living color. Has your arse closed, or is it – as it feels – still gaping open waiting for… well waiting for… something…

That’s a baseball bat. He’s putting a condom on it. You are transfixed. He lubes the condom until the white sticky mess is dripping off the bat. The bat disappears and you know where it is going next. He does it slowly, but you want it more, and faster. Why do I so crave this wood up my crack so much? What is happening to me? You feel someone remove your gag, but you are too freaked out to speak.

Things are different. The room starts to change shape just slightly. You’re not afraid – you click that somewhere along the line you’ve been spiked – not just up the cranny, but in your head. It must be acid. Maybe K. No it’s definitely acid. The baseball bat now feels about six inches in diameter but you want it bigger, fatter. You involuntarily scream out, ‘More Sir! Please give me more Sir I love it Sir! I love you Sir! Anything… anything you want Sir! Please give it to me, Sir!’

There is a period of just beingness. Joy, Ecstasy. You feel you could take a football team of hands up your jacksie all at once. It feels like milliseconds, or is it eons? – that have passed.

As the bat starts to be withdrawn, so you start to focus on the room again. How long has it been? You experience a sated euphoria like never before. There’s a slight smell of antiseptic or something. Clean, fresh. One side of your face feels particularly sharp and comfortable. Sharp and comfortable? – how does that work?

Reality starts to whirl around you, your mind and your body. You remember where you are (or at least build up a picture of where you think you may be). Mohawk leans over and smiles – you almost come again looking at this Adonis of a man.

‘Everything OK?’ ‘Not in any pain, I hope?’

‘No, Sir!, Thank you, Sir! (Where did you learn to speak like that?) ‘Everything is fine. I feel really great, honestly, Sir!’

‘Good! That was an entertaining six hours. I loved watching Pearce working on you. You look even more fuckin’ horny than before.’

It starts to sink in. Something you didn’t appreciate was going to happen happened. But you’re not sure what. You’re still a bit in cloud-cuckoo land, floating on cotton wool.

Then the horror dawns slowly on you – you think of the sun dawning slowly that one time you were at Stonehenge at the Solstice. ‘What’s happened? What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’

Pearce moves over and smiles at you. The chair you’re strapped into starts to become upright. Your eyes start to focus properly. There is a full length mirror in front of you.

Noooooooooo!

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