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The Forced Milking of Ryan Connolley, Part 7
by GuyzGoNakieFiorMe
“My girlfriend Maria loves to have her titties played with when I fuck her” Sanchez had grunted as he slammed his cock, full force, up Ryan’s breeched asshole, and tonight, YOU are my girlfriend, faggot.”
It all flooded back to him. How he had been drugged, abducted and forced to submit to torture, humiliation and rape at the hands of a conglomerate of international perverts seeking revenge because of Ryan’s homophobic comments and actions.
He had been bound, his virgin ass trained to take cock with an incredible fuck machine the deviants has created. Legs forcibly spread wide, his ass barely lubricated, they had started with a 7” dildo on a steel rod, operated by a piston. He remembered the laughter as the fat rubber knob forced its way past Ryan’s clenched asslips as Ryan fought, struggled and begged them to stop. But there was no arguing with a machine. Once the piston was in motion, there was no stopping it.
At first it had been set to just insert the knob, but after a few minutes Ryan heard the sound of a gear being shifted and suddenly there was three inches of rubber cock invading his ass. Another five minutes, another gear shift, and 5 inches were shoved inside him… then all seven.
Each thrust made Ryan jump like a puppet on a string. His taut body glistening with sweat; his chest and eight pack were perfect plates of muscle. In the midst of the agony from below, Ryan could hear the clicking of cameras; the whirring of video cameras. Would these pervs be stroking off in private, looking at his humiliation? Or would they be posting these to the internet for the world to see???
Ryan heard another mechanical sound, and suddenly the dildo inside him was warming up; another sound, and the dildo began to hum and vibrate. Now, it began to feel good, teasing his prostate with heat, vibration, pressure. Ryan involuntarily found himself meeting the thrusts.
“Yes, Ryan, fuck yourself onto it for us…” the disembodied voice coaxed over the load-speaker. This was met with hoots of approval and applause. The drugs must have been taking effect, because Ryan didn’t care. He slid his ass onto the dildo meeting it thrust for thrust. His cock grew harder, the foreskin pulling back and his audience watched as Ryan’s fuck-knob went from red to purple as his balls pulled up tight.
“Attach the milker,” the voice commanded. Suddenly a soft rubber sleeve was place over Ryan’s cock. A whir of sound and some vacuum pressure pulled the sleeve so that it was form-fitting, skin-tight. A clear tube ran from the tip, leading to a collection beaker. A flip of another switch and the sleeve began to grip and release around his cock. Grip and release, grip and release… milking his cock closer to the edge. “Oh fuck,” Ryan moaned, his wrists bound, helpless to do anything but allow himself to be fucked as his cock was caressed to the point of no return. Ryan bit his lip, trying to hold back, but he knew his efforts would be futile.
“Yes Ryan, hold back as long as you can…it will only make your cumload bigger.” The voice and the others laughed. Ryan’s chest began to blush red; his balls pulled up tight. “Oh fuck…….”
Ryan’s eight pack went tight as he blasted the first of nine shots into the tube. Ryan was still cumming as he heard the auction for his cum begin. “Who wants a taste of this freshly fucked buck’s jism, right from the spigot. Ounce for ounce, it promises to be worth every dollar. We’ll open the auction for $10,000. I have $10,000… for I hear 20?”
Ryan rubbed his green eyes, trying to get the vision of this out of his head. But there were other visions to replace it – his first forced-fucking, having two of his for more cage-fighting opponents turned loose on him and having them turn him into their bitch for the televised pleasure of the conglomerate.
And the words…the words that echoed in his head from that unseen voice…
“We own you now, Ryan. You’ll do whatever we ask. And not just because we have hours of footage of you from every possible, degrading angle which we would be delighted to offer for public consumption. No, you’ll do whatever we want, because you now know just how much you love to be fucked.”
Tony had blushed crimson when he heard this, and he blushed red now. Because it was all too true.
The voice continued, “You will be ours any time you want. Moreover, you will bring us others like you – tough-talking men who take pleasure in belittling others because they are weaker, more sensitive and are perceived to be less of a man than they are. We will teach them the lesson you have learned. And you will be rewarded.”
The ringing of his cell phone brought Ryan from his trance. Ryan pulled away the sheets, naked, and went to the table where his cell phone was charging. Sunlight streamed through the window, reflecting off his copper-colored pubes.
“Ryan! Where the fuck have you been? It’s been two days and no one has seen you since the cage match!” It was his manager, Jack Politti.
“No worries, Jack,” Ryan said hoarsely, “I hooked up after the match and I’ve been partying ever since.” “Oh, ok. Next time, you might let someone know it! Just be at the arena by 5.”
There was a click, dead air, and a dial tone. When Ryan got to the arena he shuddered remembering the two days of rape he’d endured by Polaski and Sanchez. He shook the memory away, and made his way to the locker room, suited up, warmed up, and got ready for his match. Though he was a little groggy, instincts kicked in and he won handily.
Exiting the cage, a kid came up to him.
“That was some fucking match, Ryan,” the kid said to him. “You really made that little faggot your bitch.”
“Um yeah, thanks” Ryan said, more than a little uncomfortable by the kid’s choice of words, which has new meaning for him. The curly-haired blond kid with crystal blue eyes and soft full lips, continued.
“I been practicing your moves. Caught this queer at school checking me out in the shower. One kick and I fucking broke the bridge of his nose.”
Ryan looked at him a moment. He knew what he had to do.
“Wanna a beer, kid? We can talk some more and I got some in the cooler in the locker room”
The kid involuntarily put a hand to his wallet and remembered that he’d brought his fake ID. “Sure! I’m Billy, by the way”, he said as he walked Ryan to the locker room.
Billy never saw Ryan drop the pill into the beer bottle.
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