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The Forced Milking of Ryan Connolly, Part 8
by GuyzGoNakieFiorMe
"Have this while I get changed," Connolly had said to him, handing him a cold bottle of beer, the cap already off.
"Thanks, Ryan" Billy said, trying to sound cool, like he drank beer all the time with XTreme Fighting champions.
He threw back his mane of blond curls and guzzled the beer. It tasted bitter. Not like the beers he'd had before. There was an after-taste. He couldn't quite figure out what. He ran his tongue across his pouty lips. Whatever. It was cold and it was alcohol.
Ryan emerged from behind a set of lockers with his jeans and shoes already on, toweling the sweat off his face and chest. His tawny nipples were stiff from where the terri-cloth towel had teased them into stiff peaks. "You ok?" Ryan asked.
"Sure, Ryan," the blond kid answered, his voice a little slurry. "It's hot in here huh?" The kid was sweating.
"Yeah," Ryan said slipping on his shirt. He offered the kid a hand and pulled him up. "Let's get out of here."
Billy stumbled. "I guess I drank that beer too quick," he said with an embarrassed giggle.
"No sweat, kid," Ryan said staring at him with regret, "I'll take you somewhere you can relax and have some fun."
Connolly threw his arm around the kid and guided him out the back door, to the fighter's parking lot where he kept his car. "It's a shame," he thought, "a shame what they're gonna do to this kid, but I guess he deserves it after admitting that he bashed that kid in school."
Ryan Connolly thought back to his own comeuppance -- how he'd been kidnapped by the faceless conglomerate of men determined to get restitution from homophobic bullies by turning them into their personal fuck-toys. They revelled in the arrogance of Ryan Connolly's masculine beauty -- worshipping his lean smooth muscular body with their hands and mouths, before emasculating him by using his virgin ass -- first with the mechanical fuck-machine, and then with countless anal penetrations as his ass was auctioned off again and again to the highest bidder. And throughout, Ryan's cock had been connected to a mechanical milking machine, forcing him to blast load after load so that his cum could be swallowed by more unseen bidders. Finally, he was turned over two of his opponents -- men he had humiliated and defeated in the ring -- who used his mouth and ass like a substitute pussy. All this had been photographed and videotaped -- blackmail to keep Ryan available, and to get him to bring new candidates to the conglomerate. Billy Lonergan would be the first of those candidates, and Ryan felt a tinge of remorse as he piled the boy into the car.
No sooner had Billy stumbled into the passenger seat, than he was asleep -- the effect of the pill Ryan had dropped in his beer. Now Ryan had a chance to take a good look at him. Curly blond hair, almost white it was so bleached from the sun, framed the boy's face. His lashes were almost white too. Though tanned, Billy's cheeks had a perpetual blush to them, like they'd just been pinched. But it was Billy's lips that were the most striking -- full, fat, bee-stung like Angelina Jolie. Ryan had never seen lips like that on a guy before. He knew it was just a matter of time before those lips were well-fucked.
Billy wore a tight white tank top -- a guinea tee-shirt, Ryan remembered them calling it in his neighborhood in Hell's Kitchen. It showed off the top of Billy's smooth chest, and clung tightly enough to accent the two thick nipples on his rounded peeks. Tufts of golden hair showed from his armpits, and his biceps blossomed from his arms like two cantoulopes.
Yes, Ryan thought to himself, the conglomerate was going to be very pleased.
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