Boy Clit (Gay SPH)
As soon as he arrived, he attracted a lot of attention. It wasn’t just that he was attractive, which he was. He had one of those personalities, energy, that kicked the party up a notch. He sat down on a sofa and did
not move, engaging people in conversation in twos and threes, all while others would bring him the occasional drink.
For the dozenth time that night, I glanced up to see his intense dark brown eyes piercing me. He would hold the look for just a second before effortlessly returning to his conversation. Every time he did it I felt more excited, more flushed, more confused. It was like he could hear the thumping of my heart each time he looked at me.
“Who is that guy?” I asked my friend Joshua, who I’d seen speaking to him earlier, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Oh, he’s called Xavier. He lives next door. He’s at school with Ophelia’s brother Max. Just got back from a polo match.”
“Ah, okay.”
I went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. I looked up to see my reflection in the mirror over the sink. Six-foot-two, still reasonably slim, curly brown hair and some mid-range rectangular glasses framing the gray eyes which looked back at me. My name is Art, by the way, short for Arthur. Still, I kept thinking about Xavier: his light smattering of freckles and his high, defined cheekbones – flushed again, I felt the water evaporate off my face.
Returning to the living room, I saw it was past midnight. People were gathering their things and saying their goodbyes, keen to catch the last Tube. Much too shy to do anything about Xavier and the looks we had exchanged – I still was a virgin – I resolved to do the same.
Xavier, however, had other ideas. Seeing me pick up my coat, crumpled on the sofa where he’d been sitting, from across the room – he came over.
“Hi,” he said, his private school voice and confidence making me shudder with attraction, “Listen, I live next door and my parents are away. Max
has text to say he’s not back tonight. Do you want to come back to mine?”
“Umm—” I started.
“You can stay over.”
I tried to think of an excuse: but he was so attractive and so persuasive, and I was so curious about why he might have approached me out a party full of admirers, I just nodded.
“Great,” he said, “well chop-chop. Get your things.”
So I did get my things, and I said my goodbyes, and five minutes later we were climbing the stairs in his parents’ massive townhouse. He took me into the drawing room. He indicated one of the sofas and told me to take a seat, poured us a glass of scotch each, then sat down in an imperial Chesterfield armchair with his legs spread wide.
“Joshua says you were at university with Ophelia.”
“That’s right,” I replied.
“I can’t wait to go to university,” he said, “I bet it’s an absolute fuckfest.”
“Well, umm…” I trailed off.
He was swaying his legs open and closed now; he took his `phone from his pocket and started playing with it. “I’m gonna get so much pussy. Not that I don’t already.”
It figured. A guy as gorgeous as him, even if he was ten years younger, having a world more experience than I had.
“I mean I mostly fuck the other guys at school, of course” – he and Max went to an all-boys boarding school – “but some of the townie girls nearby will do anything for a pack of cigarettes.”
I was shocked at how open and brazen he was about all this. I felt my face flush red again.
“Did you get laid a lot at— oh yeah, haha.”
I gulped. How did he know? “What?” I asked.
“Well, you being at university with Ophelia wasn’t all Josh told me,” he smirked. “Have you seriously never done it? With anyone? Ever?”
He fixed me with another one of his stares. I shook my head: no.
“That’s fucking weird. You’re what? Thirty?”
“Twenty-nine,” I corrected him.
“So you basically thirty and you’ve never had sex. I’ve just turned eighteen and I’ve fucked about fifty people.”
He was rubbing the crotch of his polo shorts now while flicking through his `phone. I heard it start emitting the unmistakable sounds of straight porn.
“You don’t mind, do you? We won our Polo game earlier. And the only thing that makes me hornier than playing a match is winning a match.”
I didn’t say anything. I just stared at where his large hand met the soft white fabric of his slightly muddy shorts. The bulge underneath, already obscene, was growing bigger by the second. My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt my little dick expanding.
He looked over at me, as though mulling something over, then stood up. He removed his shirt. I got a waft of boy smell and could see the sweat glinting in the lamplight off his mesomorphic torso. He clearly hadn’t showered after his polo game. His broad shoulders tapered down past his impressive pecs to a tiny waist and rock hard abs. He flexed his huge biceps while smirking at me again, arrogantly, flashing his slightly damp armpits, the only hair on his otherwise smooth upper body.
“Take off your shirt.”
I was too busy drinking in his body, trying to memorize this moment – every muscle, every patch of dirt, every bead of sweat – to comply.
“I said take off your shirt,” he repeated, more forcefully.
I stood up and removed my shirt. Unlike the speedy and smooth way he had removed his, I fumbled nervously with the buttons. Even though I was half a foot taller than him, I was no match for him in confidence or stature. When my shirt finally hit the floor, he looked me up and down.
“Hmm,” he said, seeing my slender body, no definition or noteworthy muscle to it at all, a small patch of brown hair on my chest.
He sat back down. “Come and take off my shoes.”
Unsure about why he had this preternatural control over me, I got on my knees and crawled a couple of meters over to him. I awkwardly undid the shoelace of one shoe, then the other.
“This is one thing I’ll miss at university,” he said. “At school, you can get one of the fag’s to do this for you.”
I lifted his foot – as he wasn’t helping – and pulled off his shoe as gently as I could. Another waft of the boy smell sweat hit my face as soon as I did. I felt my tongue start to water in my mouth. Licking my lips, I removed the other shoe.
I looked up at him and saw he was flicking through his `phone and rubbing his enormous bulge once again. For thirty seconds, which felt like hours, I looked up at him. Then he stood up, the heat of his crotch was inches from my face. It truly was enormous. A bulge no longer, but a distinct dick print stretching up right past the edge of his hip – the sort of length and girth you’d see only in an adult film.
It was obvious where this was going. It should have been obvious from the moment he started rubbing himself. In his mind, it had probably been obvious from the moment he kept catching me looking at him at Ophelia’s party.
He undid first the button and then the fly of his polo shorts. He placed his thumbs seductively in their waistband. I could see he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Then in a swift, single movement, he pushed them down – his cock thwacking loudly against my face as he stood back up, causing him to laugh. It took me a moment to recover for the inadvertent dick slap, but when I did I stared straight ahead and could hardly breathe. Stretching out far in front of him was a cock of monstrous proportions.
“Fuck,” I whispered quietly.
“I am so fucking horny,” he stated simply. “Take off your trousers.”
I pulled off my shoes hastily, then stood up to do as he said, just as I had been doing what he said all evening.
“And your boxers,” he said, rolling his eyes.
I paused.
“Now! Hurry up!”
My little erection was straining urgently. I was desperate for him not to see but I also wanted to do exactly as Xavier told me. Taking a deep breath and fortifying myself, I pulled down my boxers.
“Fuck,” he said, before bursting into laughter. “Fucking hell, Art, no wonder you’re a virgin.”
I felt hot sticky rushes of shame in my chest. What he said was true, of course. Ever since puberty, since seeing boys’ manhoods race past mine in size year after year, I’d always been diligently careful not to let anyone see me naked. It was too embarrassing.
“I can’t believe it. How small is it?”
“I- I- I don’t know. I’ve never measured,” I lied.
“Don’t lie to me,” he barked, seeing through my soul, “– ever! Just how small is that little thing?”
“It’s about four inches.”
“We’d better measure it, just to be sure,” Xavier said. He strode over to a bureau and opened the drawer, extracting a tape measure. He strode back to the matte burgundy armchair and sat down. “Come sit in front of me.”
I got back on the floor as he’d instructed, and set cross-legged. He handed me the tape measure – an aggressively yellow one-metre length of linen, wound in a coil, with metric measurements on one side and imperial on the other. A simple linen strip that would expose beyond doubt what Xavier and I both already knew.
“Tell me how small it is,” he said smugly.
I looked up at him, pleading, desperate not to prove to him or to me what we could both already see. His expectant look was all I needed to realize that I had no choice but to measure it.
Pressing down on my little boner, I placed the edge of the tape measure on my pelvic bone and held a tiny fraction of the rest taught over my erection. Whilst I was sitting on the floor, Xavier – of course – had a perfect bird’s eye view from his armchair.
This time he didn’t even laugh. “My god, that’s pathetic,” he exhaled. “Three-point-eight inches. I started measuring my big dick when I was ten and I was already over an inch bigger than that.” He was laughing again now, more out of disbelief. “How thick is it?”
I looked up at him, dumbly. “Wrap it around your cock and tell me how thick it is.”
Once again, I did as he said. My dick was as hard as I’d ever felt it, straining against the measuring tape. “Two-point-eight inches.”
“You’re cute enough I’d assumed you would find someone to fuck eventually. Now I’m not so sure – my dick is bigger than that flaccid. Much bigger. Do mine,” he ordered.
Sitting on the floor, my face level with his massive hard-on, I hesitated again. Steeling myself to touch another guy’s dick – or anyone private
parts for that matter – I was overwhelmed by white noise as my right hand, still grasping the tape measure, reached forwards and pressed against
his pubes. It felt wiry and hot, my heart beating once again, my left hand shaking as it reached up to pull the tape measure against his massive dick. Once I had done as instructed I looked up at him.
“How big is it?” he demanded.
My mouth was dry from nerves and I licked my lips. “It’s- It’s eight-point-three inches.”
“More than eight inches. So you’re more than ten years older than me and your dick is not even half as long?”
I looked up at him again. The confidence and control he had seemed to double after we had established beyond doubt he had twice as much length.
“Do my girth now.”
Wrapping the tape measure around his massive cock my eyes widened.
“Well?”
“It’s six-point-six inches around.”
Fighting through the lust of it all I tried to remember my secondary school geometry. His dick was over twice as long and six times as thick – it was twelve times bigger than mine.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“It- It- It’s over twelve times bigger than mine,” I admitted automatically.
“Do you know what the little fag’s at school called this monster?” he asked, releasing it from the tape measure and whacking it slowly and assuredly with one hand against the other’s palm. I looked at him, awestruck. “They called it my fuck club.”
He grabbed my curls and forced me to look up at him. “And do you know what I used to do to the little fags with my fuck club?”
I tried to shake my head, no, causing his grip on my hair to hurt even more.
“I would shove it down their little fag throats so that their eyes would water and look at me, begging me to stop. Is that what you want? To be my little cocksucking fag?”
I didn’t move. I felt simultaneously like the luckiest boy in the world and scared for my life. He released his dick, still gripping my curls with one hand while he held my nose with the other. His enormous eight-inch monster, bobbing up and down. I could smell the sweat and precum as the massive head hovered and inched from my face. Whether it was because I could no longer breathe through my nose or no longer pretend to resist I opened my mouth to gulp in some air, and he shoved his hips forward.
The tip of his dick touched my tongue. The warm salty precum danced and felt alive on my taste buds. I heard him chuckle above me, and with the tiniest swaying of his hips, his huge cock rubbed back and forth against my lips – sending the nerve endings into a sensory overdrive.
I was brought back my senses a bit as I felt his white sports socks start to rest against my own much smaller cock. “I know what you want. And I know what you need,” he said, crushing down on my dick harder.
“If I didn’t know it earlier, I know it now since I’ve seen how hard it makes that pathetic little maggot you call a dick. But it’s not a dick. Your useless virgin little dicklette is nothing more than a worm.”
He was grinding the ball of his big foot onto my dicklette now, it was really starting to hurt. My eyes flitted between his haughty lustful stare and the rock-hard head of his enormous cock, still brushing on my lips, even angrier and more inflamed that before.
“I always hated the boys at school having dicks while I fucked them,” he continued, “sometimes they’d be hard, I preferred it when they were soft. When I’m fucking, I am the one who’s fucking; the little slut I am fucking isn’t meant to have a dick, mine is the dick that matters.”
He grunted as a massive glob of precum oozed out of his cock and onto the lower lip of my half- opened mouth. He moved his foot to grind it into my balls, causing my worm to soften.
“The only dick that matters is this one right here. But none of those boys were as small as you. It’s barely a dick at all – I know I don’t need to think about you fucking anyone. Fuck. Even you know you don’t think to think about it. You and that little maggot of yours are never going to fuck anyone. I am going to have a lot of fun with you. Do you want to feel what a real dick feels like?”
As I tried to speak I realized that for the last minute I had been silently crying. Yes. Yes, I did want to feel what a real dick felt like. Yes, he was right I didn’t think about fucking anyone. How could I? The only tiny shred of evidence needed was the tiny thing between my legs and crushed under Xavier’s foot.
“Yes,” I softly sobbed.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I want to feel what a real dick feels like.”
“Lick my balls, first.”
He tightened his grip on my curls once again and pulled my face into his balls. Just like his dick, they were huge. As my lips touched them I
heard them peel gently off the armchair’s leather. For the third time that night I smelt the waft of his post-match sweat.
“That’s it. Lick the sweat from my balls and tell me what it’s like to taste a real man.”
Desperate to satisfy him, my tongue dove from my mouth and lapped obediently at his nutsack. I was sure my now half-soft little worm was leaking under his sock as I tasted his day-old ball sweat, the light smattering of pubes tickled against my nose, as I felt him gently stroking up and down his prodigious length, his hand occasionally bashing against my nose.
I moaned.
“That’s right. Now, without taking your tongue off me for a second, I want you to lick up my shaft very, very slowly.”
I started doing it. Even though I’d never sucked a cock before, I was desperate to suck Xavier’s, but I was even keener to do as he said, so I
took my time.
“One,” he said.
Licking upwards still, being sure to run my tongue from side to side.
“Two.”
I couldn’t believe how far I could move my face left to right and still have my tongue on his cock.
“Three.”
Speeding up a little now, I wanted so badly to taste his precum again. I wanted to suck him off, just as he’d told me to do.”
“Slow down,” he said. “Four. Stop.”
I immediately stopped.
“Now look up at me.”
Almost all my field of vision was dominated by his massive cock, towering above my eyesight. Looking down at me, king of this tower, we caught each other’s lines of vision.
“If anyone ever tried to do this to you,” he explained, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, “which they never will. But if they ever did they would have run out of dick by now. But look.”
I stared up at the crown of his thick, throbbing cock, soaring above my eyes. I felt it tense against my tongue and saw a huge stream of precum leak down his shaft, over my cheek and onto my lips.
“Enough of this. I’m fucking horny. Go lie with your back on the sofa cushions and your head laying on the side,” he said, pushing me onto my back on the floor. I scurried, trying to comply as quickly as possible.
Once I had done as he said, he knelt in front of me. From upside down, his massive hard-on looked even bigger than before.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered. He positioned his dick between my lips and pushed forwards. He only got about five inches in before I started
retching. He pulled out his dick.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he said, chuckling. “It’s barely halfway in. Although it must suck to know your little thing couldn’t choke someone even if you wanted to.”
He reached forwards, sadistically, and effortlessly grabbed my dicklette and both my little balls in the palm of one hand before squeezing them. “Fuck, it looks even tinier from here,” he said, squeezing them harder still.
“The thing you need to know about me, Art, is I do want to choke you. I want to hear my massive fuck club make you gag and splutter, I want to watch my enormous cock make you struggle in ways that useless little worm of yours could never make someone struggle.”
With that, he thrust forward again. In no more than I second I felt him hit the back of my throat, felt myself gagging again, but he pushed forward further and brutally until I felt his pubes on my chin. I reached forwards – trying to disobey him for the first time that evening by pushing him away. He wasn’t ready to be pushed away. Unfazed and unmoved. Not for eight, nine, ten seconds. Finally, he pulled out his dick, I choked and coughed, trying to get up and catching a view of his dick – which I was sure had got even larger, – covered in my spit and glistening in the soft side lighting of the lamp. But he didn’t let me get up. He crushed my soft, shriveled, leaking maggot even harder and grabbed my throat with his other hand before position his dick by my lips once more.
“This is my favorite bit. Open up again, boy.”
He pushed his dick forwards, and I felt it stretch my neck.
“I love feeling my big cock in a boy’s throat. Hearing my fuck club choking him. Seeing it bring tears from his eyes. Knowing he’s giving up air for my dick whether he wants to or not. Uff, fuck! I’m so fucking close.”
From being buried over eight inches deep down my throat for the second time that night, he bucked back and forward a couple of inches a dozen times before pulling out. He released my tiny package and my throat and grabbed his massive cock with both hands. Tugging on it a few more times a couple of huge jets of cum landed on my little dicklette; the next few sprays splattered all over my tummy and chest; he stuck the head of his cock in my mouth and I felt another few volleys of his hot salty hot boy goo land on my tongue; he pulled out once more, covering my neck, my cheeks and my curls with his jizz.
He collapsed backward onto the floor, seemingly clearly spent and ready to rest. But I was not allowed to rest.
“Come and lick my balls some more,” he said, reaching forward to gently pull my curls. I did as I was told, his load already cooling and sticking to my cum-covered body.
I licked at his balls, rubbing my nose affectionately against his huge, soft, sleeping cock, for twelve minutes.
“Oh yeah,” he said, “go and get the tape measure.”
He made me measure his dick while it was soft. Six-point-three inches long and five-point-one inches wide. Even soft it was more than five times bigger than mine was hard.
“Is your faggot maggot still soft?” he asked, sitting up.
A sad look spread across my face, not wanting to disappoint him. Licking his balls had given me another hard-on.
“Fuck. It looks even smaller than before,” he said, coolly snatching the tape measure from me and placing it against my dicklette. “Hang on. Did you cheat earlier you lying little cocksucker?”
“What? No! You saw me—” I began, looking down.
“It’s not even three-and-a-half inches.” He was right. I was harder than I’d ever been after that experience, and my very tip of my little dick
didn’t even reach the three-point-five–inch mark. He removed the tape measure and I stared at the tiny straining shame between my legs, both of us sitting there in stunned silence.
“Oh this is too good,” Xavier boomed, sounding more powerful than ever before. I looked up at him; his huge cock was hard once more, he held the
tape measure against it. “Read out the inches. One at a time.”
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, eight-point-eight inches.”
We sat there in another minute of stunned silence before he said. “Right. Bed.” He realized I didn’t know where that was and he led the way. We walked up another flight of stairs to his bedroom. It was dark but he pulled me towards what felt to be a large bed with soft cotton sheets. He
maneuvered me down his shorter muscular body and down the bed, so we would be comfortable with him taking his rightful position as big spoon. As we drifted off to sleep I felt his huge cock hardening up between my thighs.
“That’s right, you little fuck slut,” he half mumbled, “almost nine inches of cock stretched your little throat tonight. And you and that little
three-and-a-half–inch boy clit couldn’t be happier about it.”
*****
“Wake up.”
I stirred in my sleep.
“I said wake up, fuck slut,” Xavier repeated.
My eyes opened, and I blinked in the unfamiliar surroundings. Silhouetted in the morning light from the large sash windows behind him, I saw Xavier. His Adonis-like body, the muscled shoulders tapering down to his narrow waist, accentuated by the light contrast. Just as my eyes were adjusting, Xavier turned to the side into the profile and reached down, grabbing his huge dick, jutting out nearly nine inches from his body. My pupils dilated.
“That got your attention,” he said. I tried to sit up and noticed for the first time my hands were bound together. I looked down and saw the yellow linen tape measure tied around my wrists. I glanced up apprehensively at Xavier.
“I always have a massive hard-on in the mornings,” he continued, “well, I have massive hard-ons all the time. But there’s something about you that gives me a hard-on even more massive than usual. And I don’t just mean comparatively.” He laughed. “Your little pecker seems to get morning wood too.” He laughed again. “Can’t say it’s massive though.”
We both glanced down to my crotch, where my tiny erection stuck out from my pubes, somehow even smaller than when I woke up yesterday. I started to blush.
“You know what’s going to happen today, don’t you?” Xavier asked.
I was about to shake my head.
“And remember,” he said, half-exasperatedly, “I said don’t lie to me – ever. I will know.”
My voice croaked – from having just woken up, from being frightened and from the brutal hammering my throat had taken from Xavier’s big cock the night before. “You’re– You’re going to want to fuck me?” I asked.
“Close.” Xavier said, smirking suggestively, “But I’m not going to want to fuck you. I AM going to fuck you.”
He stepped onto the bed and sat heavily astride my chest. I tried to struggle to make myself less uncomfortable, aware once more of the
measuring tape restraining my wrists. Even though he wasn’t halfway up my torso, his enormous cock easy reached my face. He grabbed it once more with his hand and started slapping it against my lips and cheeks. While dicks may be made from flesh, the force from being whacked by an object as big as Xavier’s dick – especially somewhere where one’s instinct is to protect it, like your face – is considerable. His face, however, seemed to enjoy the wincing expressions mine pulled each time his massive dick made an impact. He seemed especially to like the loud sounds it made when it connected with my cheek. I stopped struggling beneath him and contentedly stared up at the gratification on his face.
“What is this?” he asked, giving my face one hard final whack with his cock.
“It’s your– your– your dick,” I answered. I do not have a stammer, I should mention, but something about Xavier made me a ball of nerves.
“Try again,” he said with faux disappointment.
“It’s– It’s your fuck club,” I said, my minuscule morning wood straining as I said it. Truly it was a fuck club. No less than a harmful weapon when the mood took him, as my aching throat could attest.
“Well done,” Xavier said, sounding like a condescending schoolmaster even though he was over ten years my junior, “And tell me more. Tell me more about my fuck club.”
I looked up at him, his cock dominating my field of vision once again. He saw my eyes full of both fear and admiration, and I saw his drinking in my adoration. “Mmmph”, he groaned, a massive glob of precum drooling from the huge helmet at the end of his enormous cock and onto my upper lip. He reached down to wipe it up with two of the fingers on his right hand before shoving them into my mouth. I ran my tongue under them hungrily, gently moaning at his essence. He removed them.
“What’s the first thing you notice about my fuck club?” he pressed.
“It’s big.”
He looked at me expectantly.
“Really big,” I continued, wanting to please him. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve seen guys’ dicks before but yours is something else. Like in the changing rooms at school, I was obsessed with the other boys’ dicks – I always wondered what it would be like not to be so – so small – and some of those guys had a lot of length, and some of them had a lot of girth. But you have both – your dick is really, really long and really, really thick. And– And being teenagers, sometimes the guys would get hard during PE, and some of them got a lot bigger when they did and others didn’t get much bigger. But yours is big all the time – you’re like a shower and a grower. After you came yesterday, your dick got a bit smaller but it was still huge. When you shoved your– your– your massive fuck club down my throat yesterday,” Xavier smiled when I said this. I continued, “I was sure it wasn’t just stretching my throat – it was reaching past my collarbone.”
“Good. Very good. And how does my fuck club make you feel?” asked Xavier, clarifying further, “Mentally, as well as physically.”
“Well, my throat aches,” I said truthfully. Xavier smile.
“And scared,” I continued, trying quickly to think. “It makes me feel scared. And also, fascinated. I have no idea what it would be like to have something so big and so powerful between my legs—”
“—and you never will—” Xavier interjected, the smirk on his face growing.
“—yes of course,” I agreed, “I have no idea what it would be like to have something so big and powerful between my legs, and I never will. I have no idea what it’s like to see the look on someone’s face when they notice a huge bulge in my trousers because I have no bulge at all. I have no idea what it would be like to know I have the power to stretch and penetrate someone and have them swoon at the chance to let me penetrate them—”
“—and?—” asked Xavier.
“And,” I sobbed, starting to cry softly, “and– and– and I never will.”
“Yeeeess,” Xavier hissed. I felt his legs squeeze around my torso as another huge string of precum squeezed out of his enormous cock and onto my tear-stained face.
“Good boy,” he continued. “And can you tell me,” he turned around slightly, and I felt his entire palm envelop my little package, “can you tell me what this is?”
“It’s– It’s– It’s my worm,” I said, stammering now through sobs rather than nerves.
“Yes, not bad. But I think given even something as insignificant as a worm buries itself in the ground, whereas this little thing will never bury itself anywhere, we should perhaps call it your boy clit.”
“It’s my– my boy clit.”
“And tell me more about your boy clit,” he asked, giving it and my sensitive little balls a painful squeeze as he looked at me, predatorily.
“It’s tiny. It’s really, really tiny. All throughout puberty I kept expecting it to grow, I sometimes still do even now. I desperately wanted
it to grow, but while everyone else started developing into men around me it just stayed really, really small,” I admitted. “I would stare at their dicks so jealously. I’d never let anyone see mine, and the rare times they did they’d looked shocked and horrified, or they’d make comments about how tiny it was, or they– they would just point and laugh.”
“Good,” he said earnestly, nodding his head and loosening his grip a little. “Truly, I am glad they did.”
I looked up at him, hurt.
“That’s exactly what they should have done. Your little boy clit is disgustingly tiny. You needed to know that. You needed to know that they knew that. You still do. And the idea that you’re walking around, presenting as a man, when between your legs is something far too small to resemble anything like a dick is just … well, it’s just really objectively very funny.”
I heaved a particularly heavy sob.
“But don’t worry. I’m here now. I will never, ever let you forget how tiny and insignificant your little nub is. I will remind you of it constantly. And the sheer size and power of my massive fuck club will help drive home that fact.”
“Now,” he said, getting off my chest and planting his big feet onto the floor – his big cock swaying as he did so, – “on with the show. But first, some ground rules.”
“First of all, one of the most obvious, you are never, ever to touch that little maggot unless I expressly tell you to do so. Not in front of me, not alone, never. Clits do not get wanked, they get rubbed, but you are strictly forbidden to rub yours. The only pleasure you will ever receive is from being penetrated by The Fuck club and that won’t be for a while. That will take time – it will be painful while I stretch you so you can take me and this size. Even after then any pleasure will be incidental, as your pleasure is not something I will ever consider.”
“The second rule: You are now my own personal sex slave. I will never wank again. If I were anyone else, I wouldn’t need to – as I already get plenty of hole from the long queue of boys and girls desperate for a ride on this monster cock. But I am still constantly horny. From now on as soon as I so much as get a semi, I will tell you, and you will position yourself for me to fuck your throat or your arse. I don’t care where you are, you will come to me and you will service mine and my cock’s every need immediately. If you do not or if you take too long, there will be severe punishment – if I am left horny too long I get angry. I already like to fuck hole and fuck it hard, and you would be unwise to test my patience unless you want to see how much harder I can fuck. As you are now my sex slave, you shall call me `sir’.”
“Thirdly, we have got to do something about these erections,” he said, reaching down and flicking my balls, causing me to writhe in pain. “Obviously even hard your little dicklette is no threat to my fuck club’s supremacy. It is simply too small. But even the idea of it potentially penetrating something is unacceptable. It is an aberration. As with all the boys I fuck, when I’m fucking you I want to see your tiny boy clit shriveled and flaccid. That should be its natural state, as is befitting of a passive, submissive bitch such as you.”
He flicked my balls again for emphasis. “Unless, of course, I tell you to get an erection,” he said. “But the only situation in which I can foresee doing that is if I need to show someone how pathetically small it is even when hard.” My eyes widened.
“Which brings me onto Rule number four,” he went on, “as well as being my own personal sex slave, I will – of course – be sharing you with others for their amusement too. Even though they are younger than you, these are real men. None of them is packing this much,” he reached down to grab his massive throbbing pride, still hard as steel, “but they are each certainly hung in their own right. Substantially bigger than your tiny little dicklette. And you will treat them accordingly, with the respect and reverence they deserve.” He explained: “I was being perfectly serious when I said you need to be aware that real men know how small and pathetic your dicklette is. I want you to see the power in their eyes as they outsize you, and I want to see the submission in yours as you feel their power.”
“Finally, the fifth rule. I want to be constantly reminded of how tiny your boy clit is and how massive my fuck club is, and I want you to be reminded of it too. When I remove that tape measure from your wrists, I will tie it around your neck as a tie and you will wear it from now on. First, it will serve as something I can hold as I brutally take your virgin little hole in a few moments, claiming it as my own. Second, the tape measure around your neck will also be a constant reminder, in case your little worm is too small to serve as a reminder, of your tininess and your servitude. Third, if any man asks why you are wearing it you must tell him the truth – citing the exact measurement of your little appendage. If he asks or if he doesn’t believe you, you must offer to show him and beg to see how much bigger he is. If I am not there with you, I want a full report of his reaction. Fourth, the tape measure will be readily available for whenever I want to see you measure your worthless little boy clit, see you measure my enormous fuck club, and see the look in your eyes as it sinks in once more just how much monstrously bigger and more powerful mine is.”
“Is that all understood?” he asked.
Still, on his bed on my back, my sobbing had died down a little now, but tears were still streaming down my face. He leaned towards me, locking my gaze onto his, and roughly licked a tongue of the tears from my face. He closed his eyes, taking a few slow moments to savor the taste of my utter submission to him.
SLAP
He struck me across the face, causing me to gasp in shock, “I asked: Do you understand?” he repeated, calmly, my cheek stinging and my ears ringing.
“Y– Y– Y– Yes.”
“Yes what?” he snapped
“Yes, s– s– sir.”
“Good,” he said, raising one of my legs as he climbed gracefully onto the bed; “not of course that you have many choices,” he continued, as he positioned himself between my thighs, the top half of his enormous cock alone easily eclipsing my little balls and boy clit from view, while reaching up to my navel; he lifted it out of the way and leant down to dangle a long, viscous rope of spit from his big boyish clean-shaven lips onto my vulnerable hole.
He eyed me up, like a predator sizing up its helpless quarry. “You should be grateful you know. I fucking hate using lube on the boys I fuck. Even spit. It’s not even that it feels better for me, and I know it doesn’t feel better for the boys.” He chuckled. “It’s just when I want to fuck I want to fuck now,” he said, spitting more forcefully onto my hole this time – he ran a finger through the saliva and position it at my sphincter, “but I’m feeling generous, as it is your first time.”
And with that, he plunged his finger into my virgin hole. Wincing, I tensed up immediately. “Ah, no, no, please!” I begged.
“Seriously?” asked Xavier, looking up at me bemused and unimpressed with his finger still inside me, “One finger? With my spit for lube? You are in for a very rude and wide awakening, boy.”
He spat down towards where his finger was penetrating my hole, removed it a little, before reinserting it with a second. “No no no, please don’t. It hurts.” I tried to wriggle away. He grabbed my bound wrists with his other hand.
“Yes. It does hurt,” his face broke into another winning smile, “but this, this my little fuck slut” he bucked his hips back and forth a little, causing his enormous erection – somehow even bigger than before – to come crashing up and down onto my weak and tiny package, “this is going to hurt even more.” I writhed around some more, at the pain from the impact of his massive dick on my defenseless balls combined with the searing from my ass ring around his two intruding fingers, which he rotating a few times before withdrawing. He reached down and grabbed the base of his huge cock – I was still astonished at just how many inches it stretched past his fist. He pulled back and I watched as he positioned it in front of my quivering hole. I stared up at him from my back on the bed still, my legs either side of Xavier’s slim waist as he gently rubbed his massive dick between my pert butt cheeks, adding a glob of his precum to the meager lubrication offered by his spit.
“I was going to take off this tape measure and make you wear it,” Xavier breathed, “but I am too fucking horny. I am going to fuck you and I am going to fuck you right now! I am going to take your cherry! I am going to split your little arse clean in two! Right … fucking … now!”
And with that, he pushed forward – almost nine long, thick inches forward – impaling me pubes-deep on The Fuck Club.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHH,” I screamed. My vision blurred near enough into nothingness for several seconds as I adjusted to the gut-wrenching pain. When I came too I saw Xavier intense brown eyes penetrating me just as his huge dick near-lubelessly penetrated my insides. I saw him mouthing at me, and as an agony-induced white noise subsided I began to hear his words—
“Yeessss. Take it. Take my massive fucking cock you clitty little bitch,” he mocked me. “Fuck! Your little hole is so tight.”
I felt him tense his cock, and it seemed impossible to grow even larger within me.
“How does it feel?”
I could do nothing but clench my eyes tight shut and whimper pathetically at him.
SLAP
Once more he struck me across the face. “Look at me while I and my monster cock take your cherry, fuck slut. I asked you: how does it feel?”
“It hurts. It hurts, sir.”
“That’s a shame – feels great to me,” he said. A wide smile crept across his face once more. “I’ve only just put it in,” he continued, excitedly, “If it hurts now, imagine how it’s going to feel when I start fucking you, you hole.”
He grabbed my tape measure-bound wrists and lifted them up to his abs. Then he pushed them down, slamming them into my little ballsack.
SMASH
“AAAARRGHH. PLEEEEEASE!” I pleaded, my entire body tensing in pain.
“Please what?” he asked, before cruelly smashing my nuts with my own fists again, and again.
SMASH
SMASH
SMASH
“PLLEE– PLEEEASE!! WHYYY? SIR PLEEEASE!” I begged, through my tears.
“Why what? Why do you keep punching yourself in the balls?” he asked, childishly. “Who knows?”
He lifted my wrists up again. I winced in anticipation, closing my eyes once again.
“Look,” he said, a genuine sense of wonder in his voice.
I opened my eyes, heaving back my tears, and followed his line of vision to my crotch. The incredible pain from his enormous cock, still buried in my recently virgin arse, – and his brutal and repeated slamming of my balls – had caused my already tiny dicklette to shrink into even tinier flaccidness. Tinier that I’d seen it, even flaccid, for a while.
He chuckled almost breathlessly with disbelief.
“Hhhhhhh,” I gasped, feeling him start to remove his big cock. My insides reorganized themselves once more as he pulled out his massive dick, inch by inch; leaving me with a searing pain around my sore and sensitive ring, feeling deflated and empty. When he had removed The Fuck Club, somehow its hardest and biggest yet, he let it come crashing down onto my tiny package.
He spread my legs apart and moved so his dick stretched up the right side of my abdomen, halfway up my torso. “Look!” he repeated.
The difference, truly, was astonishing. My minuscule boy clit, now flaccid from pain just as Xavier had demanded, was barely an-inch-and-a-half in length or in circumference. Xavier’s fuck club, rock hard from what was clearly an enjoyable experience for him, dwarfed mine. His already huge cock had hardened past the nine-inch mark and was very nearly seven inches around. Now, in their rightful and natural states, the size disparity could leave no one in doubt as to who was in charge, the alpha, the penetrator – and who little more than passive, a receptive pair of holes. Side-by-side, Xavier’s erect monster cock was over five times longer and nearly twenty times girthier than the flaccid little maggot I once thought of as my penis. Right then he outsized me a hundred times over.
“I am going to fuck you so fucking hard for having a dicklette that small,” Xavier said, the right side of my chest rapidly getting wet from the substantial amount of precum leaking from his huge cock. He ran his palm through it and wiped the precum roughly on my face. “Someone has got to teach you that with equipment so useless, pathetic and tiny your role is to serve for the pleasure of real men with real man-sized cocks,” he explained further, “And me and this massive cock of mine are going to teach you that lesson.”
He positioned himself between my legs once more this. This time, he planted his hand over my mouth as he placed his dick at my hole. He sexily bit his boyish bottom lip as he stared me right in the eyes and pushed forwards, his big hand muffling what would have been another room-shaking scream.
“Look at me,” he said, after I closed my eyes again, trying to manage the pain. “Keep looking… Thaaaat’s right.”
I stared up at his face, watching it glow with the pleasure a man feels as he breeds a hole and claims it as his own, a pleasure I shall never know. I felt him pull out again, inch by inch by inch, almost nine inches, before slamming into me once more and eliciting another palm-stifled scream.
My eyes travelled from his intense brown eyes; to his incredible cheekbones, reddened through pleasure and exertion; to his sexy big lips
which he chewed in concentration; down past the nape of his neck to his incredible muscles, slowly building up a sweat, tensing and relaxing as he started to pump faster in and out of me. The vision of such a beautiful boy with such an athletic body would have had my little boy clit spewing its unworthy load if I had been watching it on a screen. But it was still shriveled, flaccid and tiny because of the sheer pain Xavier was causing with his enormous cock – shriveled, flaccid and tiny, just the way Xavier wanted it.
My screams had died down into pained groans by now. Xavier stopped pressing down forcefully on my mouth and grabbed a fistful of my hair instead. He pulled my head up into the pit of his other arm, burying my face in his armpit hair. The heavenly smell of this alpha teen’s two-day sweat – the pheromones and the testosterone – gave me a few seconds’ respite from the pain of his cock pistoning in and out of my sorry hole. I licked at his armpit, desperate to taste him, and he mashed my face into them harder to mark me with his scent.
Xavier threw my head back onto the bed. My others traveled down his body once more and traveled further. Past the sight of his tensing, glistening abs as they pulled away from and then slammed into me; to The Fuck club – as Xavier long dicked me with both the finesse and energy that can only come from being a young Dom both this experienced and this youthful – I saw almost eight of his huge nine inches withdrawing from my body, throbbing and taunting me; before he would shove them back inside me, causing my to groan and tighten my body with pain; I could feel his massive ball sack resting against my buttcheeks for just a second before he would pull out once more; ploughing into me, harder and faster; I could feel his seven-inch girth stretching my little hole, threatening just as he had to split it in two.
“Oh fuck,” Xavier announced, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”
He pulled his massive dick out all the way. This time he didn’t need to grab his monster cock with both hands. It was erupting of its own accord. Shot after shot of his hot cum covered me from the head down. Relieved the agonizing ordeal of having my virginity taken so brutally was over, even if still sore, I stared in amazement at how someone could shoot such a heavy load. The first few sprays of cum flew over my head onto Xavier’s headboard. The next few soaked my hair, my eyebrows and my left eyelid. The next one seemed to shoot straight up my nostril to the back of my throat, followed by several covering my lips and chin. I lapped these up hungrily. “Grrrrr, fuuuuck,” Xavier growled, his cheeks and chest had reddened further, as the animalistic instinct took over in what looked to be an incredible orgasm. I saw a few small streaks of blood on The Fuck Club as it tensed over and over, seemingly with a life of its own. The tenth and eleventh shots of his hot teen jizz splattered across my tummy. And yet the twelfth, final and smallest squirt was still enough to cover entirely my little boy clit.
I watched Xavier’s huge chest expand and contract as he breathed heavily. He loosened his grip on my hair whilst still holding onto it. He surveyed the artwork that was the enormous load he had just spent, covering my entire upper body. He began running his other hand through it and brought it to my mouth. Like second instinct I immediately began lapping up his cum. He repeated this four or five times, but the rest of his jizz he rubbed stickily into my skin.
Smiling contentedly, he leaned forwards, pulling my face towards him with his grip on my hair. My heart pounded as for a moment I thought he might kiss me. But just inches from my face, he spat. A forceful hawk of spit splattered across my cheek. But then, seemingly sweet by his standards, he did kiss me – on the nose.
“Good boy,” he said. “You did very well.” Gently slapping the side of my face. He reached towards my butt. I tensed up nervously, but he just tenderly caressed around the outside of my hole.
Finally releasing my hair, he untied the tape measure from around my wrist.
“Look,” he said. I glanced down. His cock had softened now. Through the sheer hotness of watching him shoot his load, my own had grown hard. I was worried this would anger him, but he seemed too blissed out from the orgasm to care. Then I discovered the real reason he wasn’t angry.
“Measure them,” he ordered calmly. “Mine first.”
I flexed my fingers, adjusting to their ability to move freely for the first time since I had woken up. I took the yellow linen tape measure from him and started to measure his cock. Even completely soft, it still had considerable heft when I lifted it. It was a little over six-and-a-half inches.
“It’s – It’s over six-and-a-half inches.”
“Ha. It’s even bigger soft than it was last night. Six-and-a-half is something half of the men would kill to have when erect!” he boasted.
Without needing to be asked, I fumbled with the tape measure to record his girth – informing him it was almost five-and-a-half inches around.
“Do yours now.”
I pressed down my hard and throbbing little boner, bringing the tape measure to it. My eyes filled with tears as I could see any hope I might one day of defying Xavier’s prediction – that I would never penetrate someone – disappearing millimeter by millimeter. “Thre– Thre– Three-point-one inches, s– sir.”
“Less than half as long, when you’re harder than you’ve ever been than The Fuck Club is when completely soft and asleep. Well come on then, how small is it around?”
I measured my girth – although to use the word girth to describe what I had was ridiculous – I measure it and told Xavier it was two-point-four inches around.
“What does that mean then, boy?”
“My– My boy clit is small, sir. Very small. It’s ten times smaller when hard than your big cock is soft.”
He placed his fingers under my chin and lifted me up to meet his gaze. He smiled, relishing the soft heaving of my sobs and the tears glistening in my eyelashes, as the news sank in for both of us. Even in their perversely opposite-to-natural states – his fuck club soft and my dicklette hard – he was ten times bigger.
After a few moments, he started to get off the bed and began rummaging around in a large, ornate chest of drawers. He procured a small garment
and threw it at me.
“An old jockstrap of mine from when I was about twelve. The pouch will probably be far too big, but now we’ve measured your hard little shame I do not want to see your disgusting so-called erection. Cover it up.”
Shaking slightly, I began to put on the jock strap. Sure enough, even rock hard my boy clit disappeared easily into the pouch, obscured completely from sight with not so much as the faintest of dick prints.
“Come watch me shower, slut,” he said, nodding towards an ensuite. “If you’re lucky I might let you wash me, but I quite like the idea of you walking around, covered in what’s left over of my big load,” he continued, smirking.
“Chop chop, pin dick, it’s almost ten o’clock and we have a hundred things to do,” he said. “We have a busy day ahead.”
The End.
