Serving Alpha Gods

This is the true story of when my life finally began. I couldn’t keep silent about the atrocities I witnessed and say nothing about the abuses I suffered. I write this anonymously for I fear the retribution that would fall upon myself or certain others. One other in particular who I’ll simply refer to by his first name, Eric, for the sake of his privacy. 

The Introduction

    I was twenty when I met him, finally out of my teenage years. I moved away from my backwards ass, bogan filled, cow tipping, dung stained, hometown and had made my way to Brisbane, the capital of Queensland Australia. It was a pretty cliché story, a country boy moving to the big city with equally big dreams, and those dreams started with a casual job at Maccas while I worked on my creative projects. Writing stories, creating fantasy worlds, and drawing characters and landscapes that made these worlds complete. But until I found a medium for my creations, I was content to work at my local McDonalds.

    Now, in my mind, it wasn’t anyone's business. But I was pansexual. I wasn't exactly masculine, but I wasn't feminine. Because of the voice I was born with, people were predisposed to assume I was gay, which could be rather frustraiting because more often than not, it set the tone for how I was treated. Making friends with women sucked because they always only viewed me as their token gay friend who could give them fashion advice, bitch about men too, or watch some drag race show with. All of which I had zero interest in. 

Attempting to be anything more than friends with women was out of the question, as women simply didn't look at me in such a way. Making friends with men was a lot easier, as once the initial ‘gay’ shock wore off, they would see we had interests in common, and come to treat me as any other guy… most of the time. There were plenty of examples of guys who wouldn't feel comfortable touching upon particular topics with me because I might “Take it seriously.” As if they’re immediately attractive to me simply because they’re a man. It took a while, but I eventually made a group of friends, both men and women, who didn’t see me as the sexuality they assigned for me.

    I had been living in the city for about two months at this point, I was living with a few friends, housemates. The house itself wasn't anything special, but it suited our needs, the rooms were large and the rent was cheap. I was on my way to work, specifically to the bus stop where I needed to catch the next bus in order to make my shift on time.

    Walking through the streets as I made my way to work, the sun had risen not long ago. I passed a supermarket, the same one I have become accustomed to using, and noticed a rather annoying and familiar sight. Three large men of varying shapes and colours stood before me, almost blocking the footpath. They were being loud and obnoxious, I can recall several parts of their conversation most of which contained various sexist, racist or homophobic comments. Bogans, I assumed, Correctly I might add. I could recognise them anywhere. I should have guessed bogans are the same, be they from the country or the city.

    The group seemed to be disbanding, as one backed up, making a comment about ‘Fucking a tight pussy’ and I attempted to evade him. Unfortunately I wasn't fast enough, and the man tripped over me. I fell down with him on top, crushed beneath his weight. I could hear the sounds of annoyance and grunts of anger as he pushed off me to climb to his feet.

    There stood him… Towering over me; fair and flawless skin attempting to contain rippling muscles that threatened to burst, shining golden yellow unkempt hair that slicked back down to his shoulders with a short beard to match, piercing blue eyes that could easily be mistaken for twin sapphires. He wore a tight white T-shirt that was a couple sizes too small, hiding a detailed colourless tattoo down his left arm which featured skulls and other more horrific imagery. Blue jeans and black joggers. That is how I met Eric.

    “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” he declared in a deep husky voice, clenching his fist tight.

    I attempted to climb to my feet, instinctively I went to apologise, although in reality I had done nothing wrong and even attempted to accommodate his lack of courtesy. 

    “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean-” 

    Before I could finish, I was interrupted by a powerful thrust into my open eye. I experienced more pain in that one punch than I had in my entire life up until that point. I stumbled back, landing over the curb and onto the side of the road. Fortunately, between two parked cars, I was in no danger of the oncoming traffic that rushed by. Still, between the searing pain to my eye, and the bump on the back of my head I received from the asphalt, I was on the verge of tears. Suddenly, I felt the wet sensation of a glob of saliva strike me right in the eye.

    “Fucking Faggot.” The man cursed as he spat on my face and walked away.

    I was completely humiliated, I wanted to cry but instead I did my best to compose myself. I remained still, giving the man plenty of time to leave before I stood up for fear of another strike. When I finally did, I flushed with embarrassment as I realised how public the area was. I thought about the silver lining, there were plenty of witnesses to this crime and I looked around to see who was on my side. But as my gaze met those of the bystanders, they looked away. It took me little time to realise no one had any intention of coming to my aid. I wondered if this stranger had a reputation, maybe the others feared him. 

    I tried to put this behind me, as I made my way to the bus stop. Fortunately I arrived right as the bus pulled up. I climbed onboard, hiding my face, I kept my eyes to the floor, for fear of the pity or disgust they shame in me was expecting. I shouldn’t have cowered… I should have stood up to him. I thought, only to be reminded of the size and power difference, there was nothing I could have done.

    When I arrived at work, it wasn’t long before my co-workers began to notice my fresh black eye. I was bombarded with “Are you ok?” and “Who did this to you?” too which I attempted to evade the majority with the intention of powering through my upcoming eight hour shift. Eventually I was forced to answer, however for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to tell on this man. This homophobic bully who hate crimed me… For some reason, I decided to lie… very badly. I explained how I tripped and fell on a large rock. The looks of disbelief were not lacking, it took a few hours but eventually everyone either got the message I didn't want to talk about it, or just got bored and carried on with their shifts. 

The First Date

    After work, I was set on returning home as quickly as I could. I had held in tears so long it was painful and I only wished to climb into bed and cry. Unfortunately, life had a different plan for me. When I disembarked the bus, walking past the same supermarket, I couldn’t help but be greeted by a familiar sight. The absolutely handsome, perfectly sculpted adonis which had abused me earlier was walking towards me… This was unreal, was he stalking me? Surely it was a coincidence. I pulled up my hoodie and attempted to hide my black eye, looking out towards the street as I walked and making sure to give him plenty of room to pass by. 

    “Hey, Faggot!” he shouted from behind, mere seconds after we had slipped past each other.

    Clenching my backpack strap tightly, I attempted to ignore him and kept walking. Until I felt a powerful grip on my left shoulder, holding me in place. I was forced to stop in my tracks. The force pulled to turn me.

    “Don’t you fucking ignore me. You owe me, from this morning.” He insisted.

    I didn't dare look him in the eyes, I kept my vision low, focusing on the absolute brick wall of abs which was a monument to human determination. 

    “I’m sorry… I don’t know what you mean” I spoke softly… hoping my ignorance wouldn't offend him, partially insulted he would assume I owed him after what had happened but not strong enough to speak my mind. 

    “Like you don’t fucking remember. You bumped into me… and look me in the eyes, cunt, when im fucking speaking to you.” He commanded.

    Like a trained dog, I glanced up, locking eyes. As I tried to find the words to speak, I remained speechless gazing upon the face of a god. A god with nothing but disgust for his subject. I feared his wrath but a part of me only sought his approval. He reached up to grip my cheek tightly, pressing his thumb hard into the bruise on my eye. I winced in pain.

    “Fuck yeah… That's bruising nicely, I hope you learned your lesson… But you still owe me for bumping into me, so you’re gonna buy me a coffee…” 

    The audacity, I thought to myself. I couldn’t believe this asshole had assaulted me and now is expecting monetary compensation. Without a backbone with which to defend myself, I simply nodded. “Ok… I’ll buy you a coffee…”

    The man's mood suddenly changed, He was no longer looking upon me with contempt, and now sported a smirk. He spun me around, and wrapped his arm around me, hanging over my shoulders. I was trapped.

    “Whats your name, Faggot? Mines Eric.” Partly touched he seemed interested enough to ask my name, but irritated by the use of the word ‘Faggot.’

    “Lachlan.” I whispered in reply, Either loud enough for him to hear, or he didn’t really care.

    He led me into a nearby cafe, and up to the counter. Where the waitress stood behind waiting to take our orders, He ordered a large black coffee, and nudged me, as if he was wanting me to order one for myself.

    “Strawberry thickshake…” I ordered meekly.

    “Strawberry thickshake? Fuck, could you atleast try to be a man.” Eric sniped, insulting me further. 

    The waitress shot him a look of disgust before looking to me to gauge if his comments were ok, to which I responded with by holding up my debit card to pay. 

    After we received our table number, we quickly sat down by the window. I shuffled into the seat and attempted to find a way to be comfortable with the situation. Eric on the other hand, looked more relaxed than one could ever be. One hand on the table with an arm over the back of his chair, legs spread wide, showing off an impressive bulge which snaked down his leg. 

    For the next hour, I endured an experience which ‘Uncomfortable’ was a kind word to describe it. I was bombarded by cheap insults and slurs in between weak attempts at small talk. Eric asked a lot of questions and he wasn’t shy about sharing his own details. I could tell he loved the sound of his own voice… maybe even more than I. For as awkwardly as it started, I found myself strangely allured to this man and hanging on his every word. And of course, the tent in my pants wasn't helping the situation one bit. I couldn’t understand it, It was obvious this man was racist, sexist and homophobic, his many anicdotes and political opinions were more than enough to give me the perfect idea of who he was. But his confidence, the power of his voice and the way he commands the situation were so attractive to me. 

    After we had finished our drinks, he made me give him my number, and even tested it to make sure I wasn’t lying. And threatened to give my other eye a matching bruise if I ever failed to answer. 

    He walked out of the cafe, leaving me there to question my morals and stew in my shame.

The Second Date

    It was a friday afternoon, and two weeks since I had met Eric. I had not heard a word from him since. I should have been relieved, but instead I found myself constantly checking my phone to see if I could somehow magically will a message from Eric to appear. 

    I was sitting on the lounge in the common room of the house, my legs up in the air hanging over the back of the lounge, my head hanging off the front as I watched an episode of game of thrones. Depression was an easy word to describe my emotional state at the time, and my housemates were beginning to notice. I couldn’t help it, there was a void in my life Eric had made me aware of, He had awoken something in me that wasn’t slowing down. The truth is, I missed him, This homophobic prick who clearly hadn't thought twice about me. 

And yet, I couldn't help but wonder, why did he take me on a coffee date? Was he feeling sorry for his behaviour, and his toxic masculinity invented an excuse to apologise? More likely he just wanted to toy with me, and get a free coffee out of the deal in exchange for spending an hour of boasting and bragging. A triple win for him I suppose. I reached for my phone, with the intention of calling my phone company to ask about changing to a new number, to remove the uncertainty of the situation from my life… when suddenly it rang. 

    A strange number I didn’t recognise, was this Eric? I shouldn’t get my hopes up, I thought to myself, after all it's not as if spam callers weren’t a thing. A thousand thoughts passed through my mind as to what could happen if I were to answer the call. I let the phone ring for longer than I intended, until I snapped back into reality and answered.

    “The fuck took you so long, cunt? Trying on a new pair of panties or something?” 

    The familiar deep and sexy voice, the arrogant tone and insulting demeaning language reawakened what I had been missing ever since Eric came into my life. I attempted to hide the boner I was sporting and cover the speaker so my housemates couldn't hear the way he spoke to me and calmly left the common room. 

    I made an excuse. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to call…”

    “Don’t keep me waiting next time, What's your address? I’m coming to pick you up.” Eric announced, as if I had no choice… Though deep down inside I knew I had no choice.

    I hesitated for the briefest of moments, which was apparently enough to rile the familiar anger in the hot headed bogan.

    “Don’t like to be kept waiting, Fag.” 

    I answered him without further delay, giving him the address as instructed.

    “I’m on my way, Be ready.” He ordered, and hung up the call.

    I looked at my phone, and considered what I should do for the briefest of seconds, only to rush into my room. I searched through my wardrobe for something appropriate to wear, although I had no idea where we were going so nothing really felt appropriate, but I managed to put together something I thought looked decent. 

    I sat on my bed, looking at my phone for some indication of his arrival. I paced across the floor, occasionally walking out to the common room to gaze out the window for any sign of a vehicle. This went on for two and a half hours… It gave my housemates plenty of time to ask questions, “Where are you going?” “Who called you?” “Do you have a date?” questions which eventually turned into pity comments like “They’re not coming.” 

    I almost gave into my housemates pessimistic assessment of the situation when I saw a black ute pull up. The thing was monstrous… and stepping out was the blonde hunk I had been waiting for…

    I guess my housemates must have read the excited expression on my face, because they soon changed their attitude, and their comments, admitting to being wrong. Not that their point of view mattered much. I grabbed my phone, wallet and keys, and rushed out the door. Only to almost slam right into Eric's solid reinforced chest. Something he surely wouldn't have taken kindly too, especially given how we met. He didn't flinch, but I certainly recoiled. And although I managed to prevent another collision, my first instinct was once again to apologise. 

    “Shut up, Cunt, Let's get going.” He stated. Before he turned to walk back to his Ute.

    Puzzled, I questioned. “Where are we going?” As I followed.

    “Watch a game.” His reply was short.

    I felt mildly stupid, given the fact I noticed immediately after that he was indeed wearing a Bronco’s jersey. I should have been mildly annoyed, given that the first time in over two weeks since he’s spoken to me, he’s taking me to a rugby game. Something I always swore I’d never do… But I was too enthralled and thrilled to see him, I was determined to do anything he requested. 

    Inside the Ute told me much about who Eric was as a person. It was surprisingly clean, not even a cup in the cup holder. The ashtray was empty… Was this normal or did he clean it to impress me? I hoped for the former but a part of me hoped it was the latter… A flat image of a naked woman in an unflattering position hung from the rear view mirror, I guess it was an air freshener. There was a sticker of a pair of crossed machine guns on the back window, Another which said ‘Fuck the Gays’ which I wasn’t sure how to take… A third which was just the pronhub logo, and a fourth which had the shilloette of a woman sitting above text that read ‘Silly faggot, dicks are for chicks.’

    Finally, when I looked down into the back seat, I saw a shovel, a hand gun, and several cases of ammunition… At this moment, I feared for my life. Was I really going to a game, or was he driving me out to the middle of nowhere to bury me? I felt like a complete idiot, I had just willingly entered into the car owned by a man who clearly harbours a lot of aggression for anyone who isn't a straight white male without any hesitation. 

    As we started to drive away, I said nothing. Although I was certain he knew I saw the gun and shovel. We pulled out onto the road and began to drive and I prepared myself for the longest silence of my life as I attempted to plan an exit strategy.

    “I’d use something more painful than a bullet.” He broke the silence.

    I hesitated to look to my right. “W-w-what?” I guess I managed to form a question.

    “You’ve been dying to piss yourself since you saw my gun. If I wanted to kill you, I'd crush your throat with my hands… That or my cock.”  He explained… Producing a rather vulgar image in my mind.

    It took a while but I managed to respond. “Then what are we doing? What's the gun for?”

He replied to the questions, first with a slap. “Fucking listen to me, dumb bitch. I told you we were going to watch a game. The gun is just a gun.” 

I was still very uneasy, considering I never really liked guns. He soon explained his profession. He was in the military so I assumed it was common for him to own guns… Not that it didn't do anything to dissuade my bogan theory. He told me a few stories of his high school years, most of which emphasised he was a bully of some sort either physically or verbally. Giving me a detailed account of his various “fights” he called them, but they were entirely one sided. The ride to the stadium went by much faster than expected, I was a little disappointed, Now that my chance to speak privately with Eric was over. Soon we’d be surrounded by thousands of people at a sporting event I was dreading. And a little part of me, a dark and twisted part couldn't get rid of the boner I was hiding, thinking about being driven out into the deep dark woods to find myself strangled and buried by this near stranger. 

We got to the canteen and Eric bought a couple of beers… I assumed he just liked to drink a lot… which in turn had me concerned for how we were to return home safely considering he was driving. He asked if I wanted something to eat, I was surprised by his consideration but explained I wasn't hungry and we soon left to find our seats. When we sat down, he held out one of his beers in front of me, and gestured for me to take it. I gazed up at him with confusion. 

“What are you waiting for, permission?” Eric asked rhetorically.

“Oh, Sorry, I don’t drink beer…” I replied.

“Fuck me…” He sighed. “I bet you have a quivering wet pussy between your legs too.” He commented before retracting his arm and moving the beer out of my reach. A hot flush of shame washed over me and I looked away, hoping to see something I might find interesting. 

“You can drink it second hand later on.” He said, of which I was not expecting, nor did I fully understand what he meant. I looked back to him, puzzled but he wasn't paying attention. 

It wasn't long before the seats were crowded and the players ran out onto the field. Not that I didn't enjoy the eye candy, As i had said before, rugby really wasn’t my thing… So I pulled out my phone instinctively just to see if I had any notifications. Before I could commit to anything my phone had to offer, Eric snatched it from my hands and shoved it in his pocket.

“I invite you out to watch a game with me and I catch you on your phone? Have a little consideration.” Now he was deliberately shaming me. Even so, I felt bad.

    I tried to find an interest in the sport, but I was entirely bored out of my mind. I found myself staring at Eric for about half of the game to gauge his reactions… Or so I told myself, In truth I just enjoyed ogling him. In the brief moments between the crowd's cheers, we were able to converse. This time he enjoyed talking about the various sports injuries he had suffered over the years. Several broken bones, torn ACLs, you name it. It seemed as if he had broken everything at one point in his life… Not always on his own body. And to his credit, he asked the same of me, to which I had little reply. The worst injury of my life I suffered from Eric himself. I debated internally whether or not to tell him. Perhaps he would find it pathetic, or then again, he might enjoy the ego boost. I opted for discretion and kept my response vague. To which he grunted at. 

    Hours later, or at least that's how it felt… The game was over, and people were beginning to clear out of the seats. Eric had finished both beers, and I had wondered if he was in a state to drive. Truthfully I simply knew little about the alcoholic content, and my anxiety was getting the better of me. Before too long, he dragged me into the men's toilets. Confused to say the least, I exclaimed but was told to be silent. The men’s room was mostly empty, save for a few stalls in use, and one or two at the sinks. When no one was looking, he pushed me into a stall, and followed me in. He forced me to my knees, making my head slightly lower than his groin, to which I was unable to look away as he unzipped his pants. 

    The massive shaft which I had spent every night since that day at the cafe imagining was finally revealed to me, and it was much larger than I imagined. The perfect amount of thick veins pulsed down the soft length of flesh towards a divinely sculpted head. 

    “Open.” He whispered.

    I obeyed, My penis poked against the front of my trousers, tiny by comparison, his was soft and it was twice the size as mine was hard… This was a real man's cock, I couldn’t even justify calling mine a dick after seeing this. After all this time, the confusion I had suffered, wondering what this man wanted from me was finally revealed, the answer finally given. He pulled cock closer to my lips, and I instinctively moved forward, opening my mouth wider, ready to receive. Only to be denied the taste feeling his manly grip tighten around my hairs, holding my head in place. The torment of tantalus I thought to myself… This was torture… Why is he making both of us wait for this? I wondered. 

    Then I tasted it. A thick, vile, stream of warm liquid touched my tongue and rolled down my throat. I tried to pull away but his hand held on tightly to my hair. I thought about closing my mouth but another hand pinched my nose, ensuring I kept my mouth open wide the entire time. I debated closing my mouth and dealing with the piss soaked clothes until I got home to change but in spite of everything, I swallowed every drop. This was what he meant when he suggested I would have the beer second hand.

    Eric drained his bladder down my throat for what felt like a good ten minutes… He released his hold on my nose to shake his dick clean of any remnants of urine, letting the remaining drops either fall down my throat or land on my face. When he was done, he spat on my face, a glob of saliva larger than before and left the stall. I wanted to curl up on the floor and cry, but Eric was my ride home, so I climbed to my feet and followed him out. The men’s room was empty… Did any of the others realise what was happening? Or were we successfully inconspicuous? It didn’t really matter either way. 

I walked up beside Eric who was washing his hand at the sink, and started to clean off my face and wash my own hands.

    “Don’t act like you didnt love every drop, Fag. I can smell the cum leaking from your little dicklet from here.” 

    Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, I resigned myself to cleaning myself. Before long, he struck me in the back of the head and commanded me to leave with him. As he passed through the doors back into the hall, I noticed a few dirty looks from some of the men who were congregating nearby. A few grabbed their dicks through their pants in a vulgar expression as if to suggest they knew what was going on. Eric didn’t seem to care, though none of them were directed at him. 

    The drive home was long and silent. The shame I was feeling was indescribable, my stomach was nursing a gallon of hot piss and the man who gave it to me was sitting no more than a foot away. Eric of course, broke the silence.

    “You can rub one out if you want, I know you’re dying too.” As vulgar as ever…

    I remained silent, looking out the window.

    “Suit yourself, you dumb slut, See if I care.” 

    And the silence resumed until we reached my house. To which he just said “Out” and I gladly obeyed, he drove away within seconds of the door closing. I hurried inside, My housemates were eager to hear about my date, but when they questioned me, I remained silent, hurried to my room and locked the door behind me. 

    I should have climbed into bed and cried, but instead, I was overwhelmed with desire… Something which only added to my shame. I tore off my clothes, and jumped on the bed. I had the strength to resist in front of Eric, but now that no one was around to see, I shamelessly and furiously masterbaited to everything that had just transpired, right down to the homophobic stickers on Eric's back ute window. When I was done, I fell asleep in tears. 

The Third Date

    Another communications black out, It had been nearly a month since the rugby game. I had heard nothing from Eric. I wanted to text him, to talk about what happened, but he didn’t strike me as the type to admit to his faults, and I would end up looking stupid or taking the blame for everything. I had caved to my housemates incessant questioning and explained simply that we had a disagreement that ended badly and I’d likely never see him again. Of course… I accepted responsibility, My housemates urged me to call and apologise, They were only being good friends. They saw how happy he made me, and how depressed I was without him. But I refused, besides, Eric only demanded I answer when he called, he spoke nothing of attempting to initiate communications. It wasn't even like we were dating or anything anyway. I was just a weird acquaintance to him, a toy to be used and thrown away at his discretion. And so I resolved to put him behind me, and move on with my life. 

    That was until one night, I was at my desk, playing overwatch on my computer. I was in a group with my housemates. We were on the last leg of the game and it was close. We were pulling ahead and about to claim victory when suddenly… My phone rang. Eric appeared on the phone screen, I reached forward without thinking.

    “Hello?!” I answered with unrestrained optimism.

    “Calm down fag, It’s just a phone call, keep it in your pants.” Eric's masculine voice rang through the phone and to his prediction, my cock was rock hard and leaking pre. 

    “Sorry! H-how are you?” I asked.

    “You busy tonight? You’re coming out with me.” Not giving me time to answer his question. He had already decided.

    “Oh um… Yeah I guess I’m free, What do you-” I heard the call disconnect… 

    What does this mean? Was he coming over? He wasn't exactly clear. How should I dress? What time should I be ready? It was already getting dark, where could he be taking me? I snapped back to reality… So to speak, only to realise, in big red writing the word “Defeat” appeared on screen, and I could hear the groans and grunts of my housemates through my headset.

    “What happened?” One of them asked.

    “Sorry guys… My game froze up…” I lied… 

    I managed to come up with an excuse to stop playing, fortunately some of the others were already kinda done with the game for the night, and I hurried to be ready for Eric. Once again, I found myself sitting on my bed, fully ready for anything Eric had prepared… Or so I had thought. I raced through a thousand scenarios in my mind, trying to think of the most likely thing he could have planned for us… A camping trip? No, maybe he’s invited me over to a party… Does he really want to introduce me to his friends? No, that wouldn't make sense. Perhaps he wants to go out clubbing… Nah, he doesn't seem the type. Are there any shooting ranges in the city?

    My trance was interrupted by a knock at the door. I rushed down the hall to answer it. I passed my housemates in the common room and gestured for them to not worry. When I opened the door, the perfectly immaculate example of genetic superiority stood before me. He was wearing a white button up long sleeve shirt with a black blazer, his jeans looked new as did his shoes… His beard was finely trimmed and his hair freshly combed back. A million thoughts rushed through my head, most of which were battling whether or not to cum instantly. Two which kept me from my climax were, was he trying to impress me and why?

    “Ah come in, i’ll just be a sec” I said as I rushed back to my room to collect my phone, wallet and keys. As well as to double check how I looked. 

    “Someone's getting lucky tonight” I overheard one of my housemates exclaim, I assumed in response to Eric's outfit. 

    “Mate, Luck has nothing to do with it,” Eric replied.

    Of course I immediately wondered what he meant by that… Was he calling me easy? Was he implying how he’s manipulating me? Or was I simply over thinking things… Regardless, I did what I could to hurry back… After the last month of awkward conversations with my housemates about Eric, I didn’t want them to make any comments I couldn’t recover from. 

    When I returned to the common room, I attempted to hurry Eric out the door, but he was deep in a conversation with one of my housemates about rugby. I dreaded thinking this was brought up because of the earlier rugby game I told them was a ’Bad Date’ but I managed to guide him out the door gently without him aggressively resisting. 

    Once again we were in his ute. The stickers were all the same, as was the Inappropriate air freshener that hung from the rear view mirror. The shovel, gun and ammo were absent, however I noticed in their place was a packet of open condoms… Surely he wasn’t planning to make use of them tonight, or even worse, perhaps he had made use of them in the time since we last spoke. 

    Eric noticed I was staring at them, he smirked and snorted in a laugh. “Those aren’t for you.” 

    “I-I wasn’t-” I attempted to explain.

    “I know how badly you want this cock.” He interrupted, taking one hand off the wheel to grip his manhood tightly as he looked at me with an arrogant grin, pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. 

    He sat in silence only briefly before I decided to speak up.

    “Where are we going tonight?”

    “Dinner and a movie.” Concise and to the point, he answered.

    He had caught me off guard. There was no question now, if the well dressed man who answered the door wasn't indication enough, the plans for the evening certainly were. This was a date. Did that make the previous two encounters dates as well? Why is this homophobic bully taking me on a date? More and more questions stirred in my mind. More and more I didn’t understand about this man. He was straight, there was no question in my mind, any evidence to the contrary was just wishful thinking on my part… or perhaps sexuality was more complicated than that… But he was openly vocal about his disdain for man on man sexual interactions, so what was going on between us? I thought about asking for clarity, but I was afraid of the answer.

    We arrived at what appeared to be a fairly expensive restaurant, the kind where reservations were surely impossible unless they were booked months in advance, or you were famous. And yet Eric walked in like he owned the place… Though that wasn't exactly unusual, Eric commanded the room, whichever room he was in. He gestured to his side by the host podium, I hurried to keep beside him. The hostess grabbed a pair of menus, after Eric spoke his name, and she led us to a table. A booth in the centre of the restaurant. The room was large, and the atmosphere was fairly intimate, everyone was having quiet and private conversations, mostly couples, a few in small groups. 

    We took our seats, and as usual, Eric spread across more than half the booth as if he owned it. Making sure the view between his legs was available for all. The hostess passed us the menus and a wine list, and left. It didn't take Eric long to decide, he chose a steak and a wine to match. I couldn't tell you what he ordered, as I rarely ate steak and never drank wine. I tried to take my time, but was wary of keeping him waiting. 

I quickly noticed there were no prices on the menu. Eric watched me, I assume he noticed my confused expression and decided to speak. “Order what you want, I’m paying.”

Although, it didn't exactly help. I didn’t want to order something overly expensive. I looked for something that sounded cheap, and I found a salad.

“Fuck even your food choices are weak.” He raised his hand to signal the waiter, He ordered for both of us and the waiter took away our menus to have the kitchen prepare our meals. 

Before we could have any meaningful conversation, a woman approached, fair skin, brunette, her boobs were almost falling out of her dress, though I suppose that was the point. 

“Eric, is that you?” She asked.

“Sharnae, Haven’t seen you since… since that night” he smirked and gestured to his crotch as he leaned back showing off his bulging manhood. 

“You really ruined me for other men that night.” She whispered seductively, leaning in to him. 

The situation was unbearably embarrassing, The man I thought I was on a date with was shamelessly flirting with a random skank. Soon she noticed my presence and decided to acknowledge me… kind of.

“Oh, I see you’re busy right now… Give me a call later.” She spoke suggestively before she turned to leave.

“I think I might do just that…” his voice low, biting his lip as a hand rubbed over the fabric which contained his cock. 

I reached for the complimentary glass of water provided for us, in an attempt to distract myself from what I had just seen. Soon after, Eric turned his attention back to me. Without even an apology, he proceeded to his usual topics of conversation and we somehow eventually found ourselves discussing Eric war stories… 

By the time our meals arrived, Eric was discussing his time in Iraq, to which I struggled to eat during the gruesome details. 

“So we broke down the door to the mosque, and the boys and I see a group of faggots sucking each others cocks…” He explained, cutting a chunk off his steak and taking a mouthful, people at a nearby table shooting us strange looks.

“Anyway we were so disgusted, we immediately opened fire, blood splattering everywhere.” 

My shame only grew more deeply, my legs were quivering, for so many reasons, most of which I could scarcely explain. Suddenly so much was revealed about myself at this very moment. I was so turned on by Erics violent and careless disregard for the most basic human morality, I was turned on by Erics immediate use of violence, the way he described the bodies which fell to the floor of this muslim temple. I was turned on by his ability to casually discuss something so vile in open company all the while eating his meal as if he were speaking of the weather or the results of a rugby match on TV. 

“When the bodies stopped moving, we went into the next room to find their wives cowering from the gun fire. We raped them then and there. Their cunts were wetter than I expected. Came in at least five of them.”

In this moment, I had done something I had not done before. I vocalled and involuntarily moaned in pleasure as I climaxed hands free to the stories of the atrocities Eric recounted for me. This was not the worst of it… I was scared, so scared, of myself, and of this monster I was finding myself turned on so strongly by. At the same time I began the cum, I pissed myself. 

Eric paused between bites for a moment to look at me. “The fuck you doing?” He asked.

He glanced over to the side of the table to see the large wet patch growing on my pants and trickling down my shoes and onto the floor. He saw the glob of thick white goo force its way through the front of my pants as I came violently through the fabric. 

“Fuck you’re pathetic…” He spoke in disgust. “I’m paying for this meal so, you’re gonna have to sit there like that until I’m done…” 

We sat in silence for a minute before he paused eating, He looked directly at me.

“What’s it like? Being so inferior? You want my dick, like any bitch in heat, but you can never carry my children. How does it feel knowing you’ll never measure up?” He asked, though I don’t believe he was expecting an answer. 

The humiliation was staggering, After everything I already suffered, I had fallen to a new low… The effect this man had on me was an addiction, one I could not control. I sat there, through the salad, and then again through dessert… A cheesecake I was too uncomfortable to enjoy. Eric of course dug in like there was no problem, continuing with his war stories, each one more horrific than the last. Finally he finished eating around the time he recounted the story of how his squad gay bashed one of their squadmates when they came out as gay and left him beaten, bloody, naked and defenseless in enemy terretory. A man who was declared missing in action weeks later. 

I asked if I could sneak off to the toilet to clean up before we left, and he agreed. I did what I could with toilet paper, a bathroom sink and a wall mounted hand dryer, but it was still fairly obvious I had pissed myself. 

When I returned, Eric was already standing, He was furious… He didn’t like to be kept waiting, and yet I had wasted at least a good ten minutes. I apologised as profusely as I could, We left the restaurant in silence.

When we returned to the ute, Eric finally spoke. “We’re gonna be late for the movie…” 

He still wanted to continue the date? Was that why he was upset? Because I had ruined his plans? It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the cinema, Eric got us a bucket of popcorn and a couple of drinks, He teased giving me one, implying I wouldn't be able to hold it in until we got home.

I don't remember what movie we watched… mainly because right after the lights went down, he gripped my hair and pulled me to my knees. Forcing me to kneel between his legs as he spread them apart like any comfortable alpha male.

“This what you want, fag?” I heard him whisper, followed by the unzipping of his pants. In the darkness I felt a warm blood filled flesh slap against my face. When the screen behind me lit up, the light revealed exactly what was before me. My face flushed red, I looked to my right, then to my left, fortunately there was no one on our row. Then I felt a slap to my left cheek. 

“Suck it.” He ordered.

Was this a trick? A trap? All these thoughts and more flashed through my mind in an instant, but I did not hesitate. I took the opportunity before me, and began to suck on the throbbing manhood that towered over me. I was in heaven… It took all my will power to prevent myself from moaning. The sensation of such a thick piece of hot throbbing meat sliding up and down my throat, the fingers which gripped tightly through my hair and the gentle guidance of the powerful hands. I savoured every moment. Minutes past, it could have been hours, eventually I felt Eric tense up, his balls tightened and contracted, the veins in his cock rushed with blood and cum flooded across my tongue and down my throat. 

Eric pushed me back, I landed on my ass. He slipped his cock back into his pants, never removing his eyes from the screen. I snuck back into my seat. The movie was in some action sequence. I didn't fully understand what was happening. I assumed I simply missed some important context. Instinctively I reached for a hand of popcorn only to find the bucket was empty. I reached for my drink only to find the same. Within minutes, the movie ended, and the lights turned back on… How long was I out of it? Was the euphoria really that good? I had sucked a few penises in the past but never one quite so large, so shapely, so tasty and didn't even get me started on the musk… That delicious scent of man emanating from every inch of the alpha male at fed me his divine cock.

“Fucking slowest blowjob I’ve ever had, I assumed a faggot like you had some practice.” 

    His comment stung, Every time he was disappointed in me, it stung. I hated letting him down… I let myself get carried away so many times tonight and I let him down. 

    On our way out of the cinema, he asked “Did you catch much of the movie, or were you too busy fagging out on my dick?” 

    “I’m sorry…” I apologised.

    “You think that's gonna fix all this, you’re dead wrong.” He vocalised. 

    I couldn’t sit in the dark anymore, As we approached his ute I forced myself to speak up. “Why are we doing this? You could have any woman you want. Like you said earlier, they’re better than me… So why are we here tonight?” 

    He smirked, opened the driver's side door and climbed in. I was irked by the lack of a reply, and got in the passenger's seat. 

    “Don't smirk, tell me.” 

    “So, the fag has a pair of balls on him.” He replied, turning the key in the ignition and driving out of the cinema car park.

    “A real man takes what they want. Don't take no for an answer.” He explained.

    “But… Why do you want me?” I specified my question.

    “Because I decided I wanted you. Dumb Cunt. I wouldn’t be putting myself through this if I didn't.”

    I considered what he said and came up with a response. “So… what are we?” 

    “We? We’re nothing, I’m a man, you’re my faggot.”

    “Stop calling me that… I’m not a faggot.” 

    “You’re a faggot, I know everything about you.” He insisted

    I was angry, now more than I had ever been. I hated whenever a person claimed they knew everything there ever was to know about me. No matter who they were, it pissed me off. Because in every example, they were always wrong.

    “You don’t know anything about me.” 

    A short moment later, I heard a familiar sound, Eric had unzipped his pants. His massive cock flicked out and landed on the steering wheel with a thud. 

    “I know you’re like me, you’re just weaker. I tell you a story about bashing some faggot, you cream your tight little panties. You love homophobic men like me.” He wrapped his fingers around the massive shaft and began to stroke.

    “You want to worship this cock, You want to worship this sexist, racist, fag hating, superior white cock. Admit it.” He spoke slowly and deeply as he stroked. It was as if he was reading deep into my darkest desires.

    “Go on… get on it.” His words sounded like a suggestion but his tone sounded like an order… an order I’d dare not resist.

    I leaned over, as commanded, and began my worship. Licking the shaft, along the underside of the tip, playing in the foreskin, and finally taking the shaft down my throat. He gripped my hair tightly once again, and used it to guide me up and down the length.

    “I know exactly what you need… You lost yourself more and more as you came to know me. As the stories of my past became more vulgar and immoral. You come to me at my call because I give you what you need. Faggot.” 

    I heard the car slow to a stop, I moaned uncontrollably, letting myself lose control as I lost myself in the warmth of the physical representation of perfect masculinity. 

    “There are a couple of fags ahead. No matter what happens, don't get off my cock.” He ordered.

    He pressed on the accelerator, hard. I heard the ute go from zero to a hundred in a few seconds. I froze, I heard something crack, I heard something splatter, I felt something roll under the wheel while something else flew up and over the roof. I felt the grip of fingers tighten on my hair, he pushed me down harder. Cum flooded my throat. 

    We arrived back home, it was late. My housemates were either all asleep or out. Through the halls of the house he rushed to my room, locking the door behind me. 

    “Undress me.” He ordered, and I obeyed. 

    I removed his blazer, unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, untied his shoes and pulled off his socks. He pushed me onto the bed, tearing my pants off and in half. Doing the same with my underwear. He saw my cock, markedly unimpressive compared to his, and let out a laugh.

    “You’ve been hiding that tiny clit from me all this time?” he mocked.

    He grabbed his powerful weapon, and stroked it roughly, guiding it to my hole. At first he slapped it over my tiny twig of skin, it crushed my dicklet and balls. I teared up in pain and whimpered. He wanted me to know how different we were and without further hesitation he forced himself inside of me. I went to scream but he shoved three fingers down my throat with one hand, and began to strangle my throat with the other. No care for my safety, he jackhammered my ass for what felt like a lifetime. I couldn’t decide if I was in pain or if this was the most pleasure I had ever felt, either way, this was exactly what I wanted. 

The Morning After

    I woke up to the sun shining through the blinds and onto the bed. Eric took up the majority of the bed, I nestled into his side, my head resting on his hairy, sweaty, stinky armpit. My right arm lay over his chest. I had little memory of how I got to this moment other than a few violent flashes. I went to move, only to realise my whole body was sore… No part more than my anus. After that moment, I decided to move very sparingly. Instead I opted to take in the sight before me… The godly body I had dreamed about was in my bed, his powerful arm wrapped around me. The manly scent of his body odour was strong, and its source was right by my nose… I instinctively took in a big whiff, and began to pre. The sound woke the sleeping dragon, and Eric turned to look down at me. 

    “You must have little experience… Tighter than any pussy I’ve fucked.” He smirked. His left hand reached to grab my ass, squeezing a cheek and fingering my tender hole.

    I realised what we had done last night… the whole thing… at least everything I assumed happened… Did Eric really commit a hit and run? A hate crime? I feared the truth, but not because of some moral outrage or guilt, but fear for what might happen if the truth was revealed. 

    “Are you gonna make me breakfast or just lay there sniffing my armpit?” He asked.

    I attempted to climb up and over him, finding my way off the bed. My body was so weak, I collapsed over him and fell off the edge. I tried to contain my pain, but I winced uncontrollably. It was at this moment I took notice of my body… I was covered in hundreds of bruises and sores, Eric must have been rough and in my euphoric state, I took little notice of the extent of the injuries. Not that it mattered, Eric wasn’t watching, he continued to lay there lazily, haphazardly stroking his morning wood. I eventually found my way to my feet, and collected my pyjamas. Apparently in the course of the events last night, they found their way to the floor. I unlocked my door and limped my way to the kitchen, passing a couple of my housemates who were watching TV in the common room across the hall. 

    “Someone got in late last night.” One of them said with a cheeky, knowing smirk. 

    I grinned shamefully back at him, “Uh yeah… Sure did…” unable to come up with an excuse, I waved awkwardly and entered the kitchen.

    “Past 1am eh? You know… these walls aren’t very thick.” Another pointed out, only adding to my shame.

    “Sorry…” I meekly apologised. 

    I hastily began to prepare some breakfast, looking at the clock I realised it was already midday… I suppose I was preparing lunch… still, I decided upon pancakes and prayed to all the gods Eric liked pancakes. Although with his body, it was probably unlikely he ate many of them. It wasn't long before I heard more talking in the common room. 

    “Oh, hey again… Eric, You take care of our boy last night?” One of my housemates inquired.

    I could hear the smirk on his face as he spoke. “You have no idea…” He answered before entering the kitchen. I turned away from the stove, Eric was roughly dressed, pants were on but his shirt was fully unbuttoned, revealing his chiselled abs. Stunned, like the weak willed fool I was, I almost let one of the pancakes burn before Eric snapped me back to reality by clearing his throat. He took a seat at the kitchen table, spreading his legs as always. 

    “Coffee?” I wondered if this was him asking permission to make some, before realising Eric isn't the type to ask permission to do anything… No, this was his way of expressing disappointment in my lack of service. I hurried to fill the kettle and turn it on while I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it with a couple teaspoons of coffee… something I had not done in years. All the while making sure the pancakes didn’t burn, I served him a plate with a stack of four, and a mug full of hot black coffee… I offered him butter and syrup and then sat down in front of him, to eat my own. 

    “So…” I hesitated…

    “Speak up, Faggot.” 

    I cleared my throat. “You say we’re nothing… You’re a man, and I’m your faggot… what does that mean?” 

    He looked up at me, but kept his head tilted down to eat his breakfast. Arching a brow, possibly with intrigue, possibly with confusion at the question.

    “Exactly as I said, that's what we are…” He didn’t really answer.

    “Yes but…” 

    “But what? Are you saying you want to be my faggy boyfriend? You want me to fag out on your pathetic little clit like you do on my real mans cock? Cause that ain't gonna happen.” 

    “Well no that's not what I’m asking…” I tried to find the words

    “I’m never gonna be as pathetic as you, it's not in my nature like it is in yours.” 

    “I don’t want you to change! I want you exactly as you are.” I managed to vocalise.

    We were interrupted by one of my roommates calling out from the common room. It seems there was a news report about a recent hit and run. I rushed in to watch, but Eric stayed to finish his breakfast. 

    “Witnesses claimed they didn’t see the vehicle in question, but rushed outside when they heard the attack. Emergency services were called, however it is believed one of the couple was killed on impact, the other was soon rushed to a nearby hospital but died shortly after. Police are urging anyone with knowledge of this incident to call the number on the screen immediately.” The newscaster reported. 

    “Oh my god.” I was shocked, my housemates assumed I was stunned something like this could happen. But in reality, I was relieved. Both victims were killed and there were no real witnesses to the crime… Eric killed a couple of gay men, commited a hate crime, for me. I went to back up, but something was stopping me. I had run into the impenetrable fortress of Eric's chest once again. He grabbed my arm, and pulled me into my room. I quickly locked the door behind me as I assumed we needed to talk. But instead I saw Eric pulling his pants off.

    “Get naked now… I’m so fucking horny.” He declared.

    With no reluctance, I removed my pyjamas and threw them on the floor. Eric lifted me up, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and my legs around his hips. He carried me over to the bed, and shoved his cock deep into delicate anal cavity. I went to scream in pain but Eric had wrapped his hands tightly around my throat, choking me. There I laid, losing air by the second as he continued to fuck me. 

    Did I feel guilty? Remorseful of what happened? Two lives were extinguished in an instant and I was there, for it all. But did I care? No… I just wanted to worship my homophobic god, and I didn’t care who or what he had to roll over to get what he wanted. I didn’t care what he had done, or what he could do. I didn’t care if he’d kill again, and I didn’t care what he might do to me. I cared about him.

    In only a few minutes, I felt a painful sensation, I climaxed, only no cum came out. Eric heard a familiar moan, and knew exactly what that meant, but when he looked between my legs, my tiny dick was dry as a bone. 

    “Did you just dry cum? Fuck you’re pathetic, I love it” He said before reeling back his right arm, clenching his fist tight and slamming it hard into my face. 

    I woke up sometime later… I’m not sure exactly how long I was unconscious for, but Eric was gone. My asshole was dripping cum and blood, and I had a new painful bruise around my eye once again... I looked at my phone, to find the time, and I saw a text message. It was from Eric.

    “See you tonight, Faggot.”