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Wall fixture -- by Shadowjack

Jason almost never went to dance clubs. The music was too loud, for one thing, and he didn’t like crowds, either. He objected to the whole superficial scene on a moral level, with the meat-market atmosphere that prevailed in those places. Everyone was there for just one purpose: To get laid with a complete stranger. It was disgusting.
And yet, here he was. He was disgusted with himself for coming here, but he was here all the same. And the worst part was that he was here for the exact reason he found these places so repellent, the same reason everyone else was here. Jason was horny. Actually, he was beyond horny. Horny was a month ago, when he needed sex but was able to think coherently about it and consider his options. Now, Jason was desperate. He needed sex so badly that he’d come here to find it.

It wasn’t easy for Jason. You see, Jason wasn’t a normal boy. A little over a year ago, Jason had surrendered his masculinity, and begun taking female hormones. He had always been gay, he had even been androgynous, but now he was something else. He was what some people called a femboy or a sissy, but Jason liked the word ‘demiboy.’ He wasn’t really transgender, because he had no intention of becoming a full-on woman. He liked what he was, he liked being smooth and sleek and pretty, but he liked having a penis, too.
But for Jason, the problem was meeting people who like boys like him. He lived in a fairly large town, but it was anything but progressive, and there were few dating options for him here. He’d tried online dating, but he was so shy that every attempt was an excruciating ordeal, and it seemed like nobody was who they appeared to be online. Weeks went by between tries, and when he’d endured months of failure, sometimes he got so desperate, his need so overwhelming, that he ended up… here.
Jason had been in this club for hours, having his eardrums bludgeoned by industrial dance music. He’d been nursing his drinks as slowly as he could, sometimes getting up and dancing by himself for a while, watching for a sign of interest from anyone. He watched the straight guys picking up girls, the gay guys picking up men, but for him there just didn’t seem to be any takers. His despair was beginning to overtake him.
And then Jason saw him. The man was tall, muscular, powerful, and he radiated confidence like a beacon in the crowded club. He wore a casually open shirt and a tailored cashmere smoke-gray sport coat. Like many stylish black men, he had shaved his head bald, and it looked good on him. Really good. Jason couldn’t take his eyes off the man.
He watched the guy slowly circulate through the club, sizing up everyone he passed with brief, speculative glances. Beautiful women smiled at him as he passed, Muscular gay men winked at him, but he kept moving. What was he looking for? Perhaps someone like him? Jason was mesmerized, and when the man moved into other areas of the club, he couldn’t resist following him. When he lost sight of him, the despair hit him even harder, crushing his hopes. He moved to the entrance of the club and stood leaning against the wall there, so the tall black man couldn’t leave without passing him.
Finally, some time later, his strategy paid off. The man came strolling out of the crowd, still alone and heading for the door. As he drew closer, Jason began to panic. The man hadn’t noticed him, and he was about to leave! Without making a conscious decision, Jason stepped out in front of the man, making him stop. Their eyes met, and Jason saw only mild amusement in those forceful dark eyes. But Jason couldn’t give up. Desperate, he did something he could never have imagined he’d ever do.
“Please,” he said, “pick me. I’ll do anything.”
Jason stood before this stranger, this powerful, beautiful black man, his need laid bare, his desperation unmistakable. Jason was slender and pale, his dark hair an unruly mop that all but hid his deep gray eyes and long, mascara-enhanced eyelashes. His loose shirt was unbuttoned, baring his smooth, hairless torso, and his nipples, unnaturally enlarged by the hormones, poked out against the fabric to either side. He made of his body an offering, to be accepted or rejected.
The man smiled, but Jason couldn’t tell whether he was pleased, or just amused. “Really. Anything?” His voice was deep and resonant, a voice that claimed attention.
“Anything,” Jason whispered.
The man’s eyes gave Jason’s body a once-over, making him blush bright crimson. Then his full lips quirked in a strange, crooked smile. “Get down on your knees,” the man said distinctly.
Jason didn’t even hesitate. He knelt before the man, shaking his hair back and looking up at him with wide, guileless eyes. He knew the people around him must be staring, but he forced himself to ignore them.
“What’s your name, boy?”
“Jason… Sir.” He didn’t know why he’d added the ‘Sir,’ it just fell from his mouth.
“Hands together behind your back, Jason.”
Again, Jason obeyed without hesitation. He didn’t know whether the man was just humiliating him out of meanness, or if this was some kind of test. But Jason wanted desperately for this man to take him home, and if being humiliated was the price, he would pay it.
The man motioned him forward with one finger. “C’mere, Jason.”
Jason shuffled forward on his knees, keeping his hands clasped together behind him. The finger didn’t stop beckoning him until he was barely a breath away.
“Kiss my dick, boy,” the man said.
Blushing intensely, Jason leaned forward and reverently pressed his lips against the man’s crotch. He could feel a substantial lump of meat against his mouth, firm and warm, even through the material of the man’s expensive slacks.
“Keep kissing it,” the man growled.
Jason did more than kiss that bulging package, he worshipped it. He moved his open mouth against it wantonly, expressing the urgent need of his inflamed libido. He ran his lips up and down its length, defining it and finding it to be bigger than he had expected. He pushed it from side to side, he closed his mouth around it and breathed it in. He felt it growing and hardening as he worked it through the man’s pants. The more he rubbed his face against it, the more desperately he wanted it.
The man let him continue for several minutes, enjoying the attention but giving no outward sign other than that mysterious half-smile. Jason was intensely focused on the man’s cock, but he was also aware of the little crowd that had gathered to watch him. It was too humiliating to contemplate, so he shut them out of his awareness as much as he could.
At last the man put an end to it by stepping back. Panting, Jason shook his hair back to reveal his mascara-rimmed eyes, and gazed up at the man, pleading silently. The man kept him hanging for an eternity that was probably only a half-minute long. Then he nodded.
“Okay,” he said, “I’m sold. Follow me.”
Jason stumbled to his feet and followed the man from the club.
He found himself in the back of a white limousine, kneeling in front of the handsome black man, his wrists handcuffed together behind his back. There were two other big black men in the limo as well, the three men sitting comfortably and passing a joint between them. Their voices were deep rumbles as they talked about the surprising success of some venture they were all a part of. Jason learned that the man he wanted so badly was named Chacon, and one of the other two was Dominic.
No one talked to Jason, they only talked about him. Dominic referred to him as “interesting,” and “another desperate subbie.” Chacon called him a “toy.” Jason didn’t care. He wanted, more than anything at that moment, to be Chacon’s toy.
Chacon blew pot-smoke in his face, and he inhaled it deeply. Chacon pulled Jason’s shirt off his shoulders and played with his enlarged nipples for a while, first making them stiff and then tugging and twisting them, enjoying Jason’s little cries and whimpers.
Finally he unzipped his pants and pulled out a massive brown cock, and casually told Jason to suck it. Jason leaned forward and began to do just that. It was an immense python of a cock, the biggest one Jason had ever seen in person. He sucked and licked at it, working on the long shaft of the thing first, and by the time he’d worked his way up to the giant knob on the end, it had grown even bigger. He began sucking at the knob, finding it too large to fit comfortably in his mouth. No matter how wide he opened his mouth, it scraped against his back teeth, both sides at once. Nevertheless, Jason wanted to please Chacon so badly that he kept trying to take more of it, deliberately pushing it against the back of his throat in a vain attempt to swallow it. The attempts made him gag, but he persisted.
After watching him struggle for a while, Chacon decided to help his little toy. He took his cock in one hand and Jason’s head in the other, and proceeded to stuff the thing down the demiboy’s throat. Desperate choking noises ensued, but Chacon kept going until he had stuffed his entire cock down Jason’s throat. The white boy’s lips were wrapped around the very base of his cock, his nose pressing against the shaved skin of his pubis. The big black man held Jason’s head in place, firmly resisting his urgent attempts to pull away. Muffled gagging sounds issued from the demiboy, but Chacon ignored them. He held him down for nearly a full minute, until Jason’s struggles became truly desperate, before he allowed him to lift his head.
Jason pulled away, nearly a foot and a half of thick, veiny dark cock sliding out of his mouth before he was free to take a deep, gasping breath. His face was flushed, his cheeks streaked by mascara-dark tears. As he sobbed and coughed, the men around him chuckled in amusement. It took him a couple of minutes to catch his breath, but before he could fully recover Chacon grabbed his head and forced the giant, semi-erect cock back down his throat.
Again there were choking noises, and again they were ignored. This time Chacon pushed the demiboy’s head up and down on his cock, sighing in pleasure as he enjoyed the friction of the kid’s clenching esophagus rubbing up and down his embedded tool. Again, after a minute he withdrew, allowing Jason to breathe, and to try to recover. Then he stuffed it back in again.
Chacon kept this up for some time, plunging his cock down the kid’s throat over and over again, while his friends sat back and watched. After a while the demiboy stopped struggling, and the choking and coughing lessened considerably. He appeared to be getting used to it, and just knelt submissively, panting quietly when Chacon let him up for air.
Then the limo passed into a dark parking garage, and Chacon ended the game. He put away his long, glistening cock and zipped up, and when the car stopped and the door opened, they all piled out. Chacon pulled Jason out with him, and the demiboy stood on wobbly legs, looking disoriented.
“This is it, Jason,” said Chacon. “Your last chance to bail out of here. If you stick with me, I’m gonna take you up to my penthouse and keep you there for a while. We’re gonna have a party tonight, and you’re gonna get more cock than you can handle. You ready for that?”
Jason shook back his heavy mop of hair, revealing wet, glassy gray eyes surrounded by dark, smudged, tear-streaked make-up. Locks of hair clung to the sweaty skin of his face. He focused on Chacon, and nodded.
“Well all right then,” said Chacon with a chuckle. “Let’s go!”
They took Jason to a luxurious, ultra-modern penthouse, forty stories up, with a view of the city like Jason had never seen before. Chacon relieved him of his handcuffs, then told him to strip. The young demiboy undressed self-consciously, making a neat stack of his shoes and folded clothing. Finally he stood, naked and uncertain, covering his crotch with both hands. Dominic and the other guy sat on a futuristic-looking gray couch, Dominic looking at his phone, the other guy talking softly into his, his dark eyes casually examining Jason’s exposed nudity. Chacon had left the room.
There was a dog, a Doberman, lying on its bed in the corner. It hadn’t made a sound, and appeared relaxed, but its eyes watched Jason.
Chacon returned after a few minutes with an armload of lengths of soft manila rope, each neatly bundled. He tossed them on a chair, then turned to his naked guest, surveying his lean, pale body critically. He made a twirly motion with one finger, and Jason rotated for him, letting him critique his firm, hormone-enhanced buttocks. Chacon nodded in skeptical approval.
Then, without a word, he lifted the top off of his coffee table and set it aside. Underneath was a padded mat surrounded by a black steel grid. He crooked a finger at Jason, and the naked demiboy came hesitantly forward. Chacon laid him down on his back on the padded mat. Dominic handed him a bundled length of rope, and he untied it and shook it out.
The big man had some skills with rope. With consummate efficiency he looped a doubled strand around Jason’s shoulders, knotted it behind his neck, then used that rope as a base to create a web of ropes attaching Jason firmly in place. More ropes followed, tying his arms and wrists firmly to the grid that surrounded the mat. Then he tied his legs, doubled, lifted and spread wide apart. Jason shivered, realizing how helpless he was.
That done, Chacon sat back and lit up a joint. He and his friends sat on either side of Jason’s helplessly bound body, passing the joint back and forth, chatting idly. During a lull in the conversation, Chacon reached out and casually fondled Jason’s exposed penis. It had been semi-erect already, but under his touch it hardened almost instantly.
Chacon chuckled. “Subbie boys are so easy,” he said.
After they’d finished their joint, Chacon sat forward again and idly played with Jason’s spread body. He enjoyed pinching and twisting the femboy’s plump nipples, and he alternated between that and stroking his helpless cock. It only took a few minutes to make Jason start whimpering in helpless arousal.
Then Dominic handed Chacon a bottle of lubricant, and he shifted his attention to the tiny puckered dimple of the demiboy’s anus. A thick finger, slick with lube, bored into it like a drill, twisting as it went. It buried itself to the last knuckle, then probed about inside him.
It was only then that the reality of what was about to happen hit Jason. From the moment he’d spotted Chacon in the club, he’d been building a fantasy in his mind. When he’d been forced to swallow Chacon’s unnaturally long cock and realized how big it was when it got hard, he’d been so lost in that fantasy that he’d imagined it would be exciting to be forced to take the largest cock he’d ever seen. He’d been imagining himself succumbing to its breathtaking size as some sort of romantic sacrifice. It wasn’t until that moment that the physical reality of it settled in. That monster was going to hurt.
“Relax,” Chacon said, and Jason took a long, slow, shaky breath, trying to dispel his panic and relax his sphincter.
Soon there were two fingers inside him, and then three. Jason tried not to think about what was coming, but the harder he tried the more vividly he imagined that immense club thrusting into him.
To his credit, Chacon spent several minutes working his fingers into the white boy’s bottom, but soon he became impatient. His cock was hard and throbbing, and it needed this ass. It was time.
Chacon stood up and moved to the wall beyond Jason’s head. There was a large painting there, an abstract piece full of browns, yellows and reds in a jagged, random sprawl of paint. Chacon lifted it from the wall and set it aside, revealing a rectangular hole in the wall, rimmed by a metal bracket.
Then Chacon and Dominic lifted the mat and grid assembly that Jason was so thoroughly tied to, tipped it up until Jason was upright but still firmly attached, and pushed the whole assembly into the hole in the wall. It was a perfect fit, and it snapped into place as it had clearly been designed to do. Jason had become a wall fixture, naked and spread, ready to be toyed with or fucked.
Chacon began unbuttoning his shirt, his dark eyes traveling up and down the femboy’s bound nudity. Jason watched through the curtain of his bangs as Chacon bared his magnificently muscled body. Naked, his immense cock dangling more than halfway to his knees, his burnished ebony skin gleaming in the soft indirect lighting of the room.
Chacon picked up the bottle of lube and began applying it to his cock. With terrified fascination Jason watched Chacon’s hand sliding up and down the extraordinary length of the beast, watched it thicken and lengthen as it was roused. He couldn’t imagine how his body would ever be able to accommodate a cock like that.
“Relax, boy,” Chacon growled, noticing the demiboy’s wide eyes. “You in it now. Ain’t no stoppin’ it. Nothin’ you can do but ride it out.”
Stepping between Jason’s wide-open thighs, Chacon bent his knees and pressed the massive blunt knob of his cockhead between those firm, pale cheeks. He made sure he was in the right place, and then he began to push.
When Chacon’s cockhead breached Jason’s anus, stretching that tight ring of muscle around itself as it plowed through, the femboy squealed in pain, his body stiffening, back arching. Chacon drove it in several inches, then stopped. The sensation of that tight sphincter spasming around his cock was sweet indeed, and he paused to enjoy it. Gradually, the boy’s squeals died away into shallow panting, and the spasms eased. Chacon leaned in and began driving deeper.
Inch after inch of thick, semi-hard cock thrust upward into Jason’s round white ass. The demiboy groaned, his body twisting and squirming helplessly in its bondage. He already had more cock inside him than he’d ever had before, and Chacon was barely more than halfway in.
Again the big black man moved closer for another thrust, determined to go all the way in this time. Leaning forward, his hot breath on Jason’s neck, he pushed deeper. Jason shuddered, his deep groan rising into a pitiful whine. Chacon’s massive cock was deep in his entrails now, and he could feel his bowels rearranging themselves. It was agonizing, and yet a part of him was reveling in his helplessness and submission. There was a point at which he was certain he couldn’t possibly take another inch, and that was when Chacon forced the last three inches of cock into him.
Jason cried out in pain, a short, sharp, breathless yelp. Tears filled his eyes and trickled down his cheeks as the immense python of Chacon’s cock throbbed deep inside him. He wanted to wail in agony, but he couldn’t seem to draw a breath. He could feel the massive length of the cock inside him, its heat, its every thrumming pulse. Chacon’s hard abdomen pressed against his own cock and balls with thrilling intimacy.
Chacon was enjoying the silky caress of the white boy’s bowels, the steamy heat of them, and the intermittent involuntary constriction of his anus. More than a minute passed as he stood there, his hips tight against the femboy’s loins. He could feel the boy’s hard penis throbbing against his belly, and he liked the sensation. Jason panted shallowly against him, occasionally shuddering but afraid to move.
Then, with a wicked chuckle, Chacon started fucking the boy. The appalling length of his cock slithered out of Jason’s helpless ass until only half of it was still inside, and then it plunged back in, all the way in, once more. Jason found enough breath to squeal in pain as it slid home. His eyes stung as they filled with tears. Again it withdrew, only to plunge back in, harder than before, and again he let out a desperate squeal. It hurt him more than any cock ever had before, and yet, as it continued to stroke in and out of him, there was an intense, perverse pleasure there, as well.
Jason had never been fucked like this before. It was all-consuming, every thrust a crisis of both agony and ecstasy. It was overwhelming, and there was nothing he could do. Finally his panic subsided as he surrendered, sliding into a state of submisson. Only in the depths of submission could he endure it. Chacon’s cock was his entire world, the master of his body and his emotions. With every stroke, he became more enslaved to it.
Chacon fucked the squealing demiboy for nearly half an hour. Whenever he got too close to cumming, he would stop, his cock buried to the hilt inside the boy’s squirming bowels, and wait until the throbbing stopped. And whenever Jason’s cries were no longer desperate enough to satisfy his sadistic desires, he just started fucking him harder. His cock was the perfect domination tool, both reward and punishment at once for the submissive femboy.
Finally Chacon couldn’t deny himself any longer. He began pounding the kid’s ass, this time as hard as he could, and he didn’t stop. Jason’s agonized squeals reached a climax of desperation, but the pounding only continued on and on as the big man closed in on that final ecstasy. Chacon roared like a lion, and he stopped thrusting, his body straining and quivering as he filled the white boy’s bowels with his hot, thick semen.
When Chacon withdrew from Jason’s ass, it was like a snake slithering out of its hole. He stepped away, picked up a towel, and began drying himself off. Jason panted and sobbed softly, his hair hiding most of his face. Gradually he recovered from that epic fucking, and as he did, he became aware that there were more people in the room than there had been. The party had begun, apparently, and there were at least four more guys sitting or standing around the room, drinking, smoking and talking. As he watched, the door opened and five more people came in. Jason was on display, a track-light shining down directly on him as though he were a piece of art.
Chacon, shirtless, but wearing loose pants, stepped out in front of Jason to address the crowd. “Got a little party favor for y’all,” he said with a grin, gesturing grandly toward the helpless demiboy tied to the wall behind him. “Grade-A approved white-boy ass. Take all you want.”
There was a wave of laughter from the all-black, all-male party. Jason’s face was hot with embarrassment, and he was grateful that his hair was long and thick enough to hide behind when he lowered his head.
Someone turned on some music, conversations got a bit louder, and Chacon made sure everybody had something to drink. For fifteen or twenty minutes, nobody took up Chacon’s offer of white-boy ass. Jason just hung there on the wall, naked, spread, and available for use. He saw several guys eyeing him, but at first nobody seemed interested in using him.
Then there was a man standing in front of him, a muscular black man wearing board shorts and a wife-beater shirt. Surveying the demiboy’s smooth, hairless, feminine-looking body, he moved in close and curiously examined his enlarged nipples. They quickly stiffened under his fingers, and he chuckled. His hand lowered to Jason’s drooping cock, and as he handled it, it too began to swell and stiffen. Then he reached lower, and hooked a finger into Jason’s ass. The sphincter was soft and well-lubricated, and he penetrated it easily.
The man stepped in close, pressing his hard belly against Jason’s stiff erection. There was a moment of movement, and then a thick, hard cock was sliding up into Jason’s ass. He let out a loud groan as his lower tract was filled once more with hard, aggressive meat. Chuckles could be heard from various places around the room.
The man began fucking him, his cock probing deep, though not as deep as Chicon’s unnaturally long cock had gone. But it was more than enough to overwhelm Jason’s senses, and he couldn’t control the noises he made as the man fucked him with long, deep strokes.
Because of his position and angle, the big black man’s hard belly rubbed up and down against Jason’s own penis with every stroke, creating a stimulating friction that had a strong effect on the bound demiboy. As the motion began to accelerate, his stiff little dick oozed copious amounts of pre-cum, that lubricated the friction. His arousal, already out of control, reached new heights.
After a particularly brutal climactic pounding the man filled Jason’s battered rectum with thick, hot semen, then withdrew. By then there was another man ready to take his place, and another huge black cock penetrated his freely-available ass. This one showed him no mercy right from the start, hammering his deepest guts with a hard-driving rhythm. The helpless white boy’s animal cries punctuated every pounding thrust, and it was probably no coincidence that they came in syncopation with the thumping base of the music.
Jason’s cries rose into high-pitched shrieks as a surprise orgasm enveloped him. His excited cock, buffeted and squished between the black man’s belly and his own, erupted in a fountain of hot spunk. But the demiboy’s climax affected the ongoing proceedings not at all, the brutal fucking continuing unabated. His super-sensitized penis was still being ground between taut abdomens, his bowels still being battered by a massive hard cock, and when his cries became cries of pain, it didn’t matter in the slightest to the man fucking him.
When that man, too, added to the growing sea of sperm inside him, another took his place, and then another after that. Jason’s erection returned, then spurted again, then dwindled and was revived yet again as one big, black man after another came over and fucked the tied-up demiboy.
After midnight the casual partiers went home, leaving a group of hard-core men who were intent on doing as much fucking as they could while it was available and free. The music was turned down and replaced with classic jazz, and the lights in the room, aside from the one that spotlighted Jason, were dimmed. The men no longer bothered to wear clothes, their attention centered on fucking the tied-up demiboy. As they awaited their turn to have another go at him, they milled about at the edges of the light, talking quietly or staring at Jason while they stroked their enormous cocks.
In his more lucid moments, Jason peered out through the curtain of his hair, and all he could see was dark, muscular bodies and long, glistening, semi-erect cocks looming in the darkness. He had no idea how many men were there, but he knew that each of them was just waiting to fuck him. Every time one of them blew a load into him and withdrew, another stepped up to take their place.
Now that they were going for their third, fourth, fifth or sixth fuck, the urgency of those earlier rounds was gone. Now they were taking their time, and each time a fresh cock slithered up into his aching hole, it tended to stay there, sliding in and out, for at least twenty or thirty minutes.
They continued to fuck Jason, one after another, long into the night. Chacon took him twice more during the rotation, his mighty python of a cock never failing to draw tears from the bound femboy.
Jason was barely coherent when it finally ended, the last of Chacon’s guests departing. Chacon and Dominic removed the bondage rack from the wall and set it back on the coffee table before untying the exhausted demiboy. Jason wasn’t able to stand for a few minutes, but Chacon brought his clothes and helped him dress. When he was able to get to his feet, Chacon walked him to the elevator. Before he shoved him in, he handed him a business card with his phone number on it.
“Any time you want cock,” he told the boy, “you call me. You ain’t half bad for a sissy white boy.”
With that, the elevator door closed, and the car started down. Jason stood there, the card in his hand. His ass ached, he was exhausted, and the seat of his pants was slowly getting soaked from the semen draining out of him. It would be days before he could walk without limping. For six hours he’d been used, abused, and treated like an appliance. He’d been tied up and turned into a cum-dump.
He slid the card carefully into his pocket, and smiled. Of course he’d be back for more.

Shadowjack does art and txt. This piece appeared first on his website.