Serving Alpha Gods

It has been a few weeks since Eric had moved in, and my ass was healing rather slowly… Especially considering Eric enjoyed fucking it when ever his blood flowed south. But still, it was healing. Having quit my job, I now spent all day every day at home. I made sure the house was clean, the fridge was stocked, and Eric's clothes were clean and pressed. Since I had a lot of time on my hands, I was free to focus on my creative projects. Sitting down at my desk was somewhat difficult with my injuries, but I was determined to continue my work and not lay in bed all day. 

    I looked forward to 6pm every night when Eric would return home from training, I never had to worry about him getting fat and lazy considering his job was maintaining the weapon that was his body. As such my reward was to run my fingers over his impressive musculature every night. I was a little uneasy about the guns I was now constantly finding laying around my bedroom… Why would he not simply keep these in his gun safe? It's not as if he ever needed to use them. What -does- he uses them for anyway? It’s not as if they’re for military use, the military would supply whatever he needed for an assignment. Regardless, I avoided touching them at all times. Perhaps it was just a subtle reminder of his power.

    My greatest dread was the possibility of him being deployed, which I soon learned was partly the reason for him ghosting me in the past, Although not entirely. As a member of the SAS, the Australian Special Air Service, he could leave at any moment, and be gone for weeks, possibly months at a time. I came to cherish every moment I had with him, even if many of those moments included abuse, verbally or physically… especially if they included abuse.

    One friday afternoon, my housemates and I were playing the nintendo switch, mario kart I believe. When Eric returned home. I passed my joycon to one of my housemates and rushed to welcome him home. He told me to get dressed, he was taking me out to a super exclusive club. I was never really a club goer, I had little interest in the scene, but the situation intrigued me. In truth I had not pictured Eric as much of a club goer either, But I suppose I was wrong.

    Regardless, we went to our room where we got ready. I took a little longer as part of my new routine when Eric returned home was to undress him myself. Something I craved as it gave me the opportunity to bury my nose in his sweaty crevices. I often lost myself in the hairs of his armpit, my tongue circling around the depths of the pit, moaning so hard I would almost cum then and there. 

    This time, however, it was denied to me. I received a slap to my cheek.

    “Stop fagging out, we dont have the time, Undress me.” He ordered.

    I obeyed quickly, and when it was done, he went into the ensuite for a quick shower. Giving me the opportunity to lay out some clothes for him. I put together an outfit I thought would work best, though as I’ve said before, fashion wasn't my strong suit. The outfit looked fine to me, but I'm sure anyone would have a million opinions to offer about it. In my spare time, I dressed myself and waited for him to finish his shower. When he was done, I offered to dry him off with a towel. To which he rolled his eyes and smirked. 

    “It’s hard to keep your faggot hands off me, isn’t it.” He observed. 

    I blushed, and avoided eye contact. 

    “Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you, cunt.” 

    I complied with his order, my eyes looking up into his. As rubbed the towel across his body, feeling every ab, every vein, every muscle. Eventually I was done, Eric’s manly body was dry, and I set myself to the task of dressing him. My favourite part was the beginning, where I pulled up his underwear and handled his impressive unit, fitting it into the garment. Then I buttoned up his shirt and pulled up his pants. I was tightening his belt when he reached for my cheek, gripping it tightly with his powerful hands as he brushed his thumb across my face. He smirked.

    “Every time, you choose the same belt every time. Is it your favourite? Does it remind you of something?” He asked knowingly.

    He placed his free hand onto mine, and moved my fingers to rub alone a familiar stain of red. Dry blood which held a special place in my memory. Without realising it, I had become attached to the leather belt from that evening and Eric had noticed. I was unable to answer his question with anything other than a longing look of desperation and desire. For a moment there I lost myself, I felt something between us, time was all but frozen in that moment. Until Eric once again volunteered a reality check by slapping me across the face with the very hand that held me so tenderly. 

    Once we were dressed, we climbed into his ute and drove off. I asked where were going, a stupid question of course, as he answered by striking me over the back of the head and telling me to listen more carefully next time. We eventually arrived at our destination, named ‘The CockPit’ which Eric explained was a place where “military guys come to get pussy” but honestly the name sounded like the gayest bar I’ve heard of. I wisely kept that detail to myself.

    I climbed out of the ute, and followed behind him.

    “Don’t fucking embarrass me, Faggot. We’re meeting my Squadmates here, Do whatever they say. Got it?” He impressed upon me, stressing its importance.

    I nodded silently and followed him closely.

    When we entered the club, I quickly realised, in spite of the name, this place was anything but gay. The entire room exuded an aura of masculinity, it stunk of sweat and piss, the walls were covered in posters of well endowed women, and sports logos and players. Guns decorated where the posters weren’t… I questioned if they were real or fake. I wasn’t at all surprised to see a “Make America Great Again” Hat hung up on the wall and a few “Fuck your feelings” T-shirts… We aren’t even in America. 

    The club goers were all physically attractive, big breasted women with an interesting real/fake ratio that rivalled the guns on the walls, doting over the powerful selection of muscular military alpha males that filled the room. 

    Within seconds, I needed to adjust myself. After making sure no one was looking, I attempted to discreetly reposition my dicklet so it was less obvious how hard it was. Eric noticed of course, and punched me in the shoulder.

    “I said don’t embarrass me.” He spoke firmly, threateningly as he clenched his fist ready for another punch.

    I apologised quickly, and to my surprise he calmed down, the second strike never came. Instead his powerful grip latched around my tiny bicep, and he dragged me through the club to a circular booth in the far corner. Sitting round the table were a couple of familiar faces. A indigenous man with short black hair and a thick beard hiding a powerful jaw and emerald green eyes next to a tanned skin man with deep brown hair, stubble across his jaw line and hazel eyes. I recognised the two as the men who were with Eric the day I met him. Additionally at the table were two new faces, a man I assumed was probably half asian and another who looked to have an ancestry from the middle east. Each of them were massive, muscles which put my tiny body to shame and were insanely attractive. Together with Eric, he completed the diversity set… if you weren’t including women.

Each wore their SAS uniforms. While Eric came home from the base, took a shower and changed his outfit, the pit stains on their uniforms suggested they came here directly from training. Pit stains which I could smell the pungent buffet that was laid out before me.

 Eric pushed me ahead to stand between him and the table. Holding out a hand he gestured to each. “Tyrone, Jordan, Alex, Aryan, this is Lachlan.”

“Fuck dude, I was starting to think the fag wasn’t real” The large black man I guessed was Tyrone commented.

“How do you fit your dick in that?” The Asian guy I assumed was named Alex asked.

In response, Eric slapped and grabbed my asscheek, still sore from the lashings I winced but attempting to obey the order to not embarrass him, I held back a cry.

“It’s a tight fit, but uh… I’m determined.” He said with a grin.

Eric pushed me towards the side of the booth by Tyrone, The squad shuffled over in the booth to make room. I was involuntarily sandwiched between two muscular studs, not that I was complaining. Tyrone wrapped his impressive arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close. Crushing my head between his bicep and his chest. The stench of man was overpowering, it was clear from here they had not showered all day, possibly longer. It felt like I was leaking pre like a broken faucet. If I wasn't already wishing I bought a spare pair of undies, I would be soon.

“Always said you’d rather put a bullet than your dick in a faggot, Eric. What's special about this one?” Jordan asked, giving me an intense visual examination.

The others looked to Eric for his answer, to which he simply replied “No matter what punishment I throw his way, the fucker takes it and keeps coming back for more.”

Was that true? I wondered, if it was, did I finally get the answer I had been waiting for all these months… Was he saying he was a part of whatever kind of twisted relationship this was because he admired my resolve?

“We’ve all taken a punch from you, the little fag must be tough.” Aryan judged. 

I looked at the attractive bronzed skin man who sat across the other end of the booth from me and blushed. I wasn’t sure if I should thank him for the compliment or if they’d rather I remain silent. 

“You’ll find out tonight, fellas. Take him for a test drive. I’ve already reserved the room in the back.” Eric offered his friends. I looked at him, scared, frightened, was he giving me away? How permanent was this arrangement? Was this what he meant when he told me to do whatever they said?

“Fuck ain’t no way im sticking me dick in gay.” Jordan looked away with disgust.

I instinctively felt the urge to correct him, in my meek voice I responded “Umm, I’m not actually gay… I’m pansexual.” Not that they heard.

The five continued to argue over the top of me.

“I don’t fucking care, a holes a hole. Give him to me.” Alex insisted.

“Nah bro, I’ve got first.” Tyrone replied, squeezing his grip on my head tighter. 

“It’s not gay, Jordan, It’d have to be a man for it to be gay, It’s just a faggot.” Aryan corrected. 

“Trust me, Just give it a go, You’ll cum faster then any pussy you’ve been in.” Eric said as if he were attempting to sell me.

The group looked to Jordan as if to see his response, He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Fine, I’ll give the faggot a go, but just a blow job. I don’t want to get shit all over my dick.” 

The men cheered “Fuck yeah!” and high-fived each other. Grabbing their beers and slid out of the booth and dragged me along with them. Tyrone kept me close, locking his arm around my head as we walked. I weakly tried to escape but quickly realised exactly how strong the man was and allowed him to hold me. We entered a nearby door into a hallway, and soon into a room maked “Private.” What sort of club was this anyway? I wondered. Why did a place for military men to hang out have private rooms in the back? When we entered, I took in the view of the room. A single cushioned bench lined the entirety of the walls, and in the centre was a similarly cushioned platform about the same height as the bench. Before I could make any more observations, Tyrone threw me down onto the centre platform and I heard the door lock behind us.

Each man did what they wanted to get comfortable. Tyrone took off his shirt, revealing his sweaty chest, as did Aryan. Alex and Jordan unzipped themselves and started to jerk their cocks, which I might add… While impressive, were no match for Erics. Speaking of, Eric sat down in the far left corner of the room, legs spread, he pulled out his thick shaft and stroked as he watched. Laying on my back, it wasn't long before the dim lights on the room vanished… a powerful tool eclipsed my vision. 

It was Tyrone's cock. The behemoth was even larger than Eric’s… I couldn’t help but think how stereotypical it was, the black guy had the biggest dick. His balls were massive, the size of oranges. They slapped the crown of my head, the base of his cock rubbed the upper edge of my forehead, the underside of the shaft pressed firmly over my face and down past my chin. I felt the tip of his cock poke my chest… Based on the firmness of the flesh, I gathered he was only at a semi chub… The man wasn’t even fully hard yet and his cock was larger than my head.

I opened my mouth and my tongue slid out, licking the underside of the massive piece of meat that laid over my head. I felt Tyrone pull back, the skin rubbing across my face until my tongue was cupping the tip. He wrapped his hands around my throat, and pulled me to the edge of the bed where my head angled down. My eyes were now equal to the massive pair of baby batter producers which hung gracefully before me. With a single, powerful and painful thrust and a grunt to match, Tyrone forced the entire length down my throat. I spasmed in shock, the cock was far too long and thick. It stretched out my throat way beyond its safe limits. 

“Oh fuck yes.” From the edge of my eye I could see Eric, he was stroking himself to the view of my defilement.

Soon, Tyrone was thrusting back and forth, his entire length expanding my throat from the inside, while his hands crushed it from the outside. Soon I felt a pair of arms grab onto my ankles, My legs were lifted to the air and I felt a body press up against my seat. Resting my legs on his chest, whoever's chest it was.

“Fuck you did a number of this ass, Eric.” I heard from who I assumed was Alex. Before he began to violate my anus with his own brawny cock.

“The faggot reminds me of Nathan.” I heard Jordan comment.

“At least this little bitch didn’t hide what he was.” Said Aryan.

My hands were holding onto the edges of the cushioned platform, but I felt someone grab my right and shove a dick into it. Then someone went to my left and did the same. I tried to move my hands as I assumed they wanted me to stroke the dicks they offered, but it was difficult to focus between the pain, the lack of air, the smell of sweat and the grunts of pleasure. 

Tyrone slowed his pace, and his breathing calmed. “I want to try that ass” 

“Fuck Eric wasn’t lying.” Alex commented. 

Both of them pulled their cocks out from me. I gasped for air desperately. I felt Tyrone's masculine hand slap the side of my cheek twice before he and Alex swapped positions. Instead of holding my throat, Alex cupped my cheeks in his hands. He looked down at me with a gentle smile, at first… but it was quickly replaced with an aggressive scowl. He forced his cock down my throat. It wasn’t anywhere near as large as Tyrone’s, but that wasn't to say it was small. It did just as good a job as the last at blocking my windpipe. And then I felt it… Tyrone's monster violated my boy hole. I couldn’t help but tear up, not that you could tell as any tears were hidden beneath the saliva I was gagging up. 

“How could you have kept this from us for so long, Cunt?” Tyrone complained to Eric. Between Alex’s balls slapping into my eyes, I was able to see the smirk on Eric’s face.

Time had no meaning here, what was happening to me was my entire focus. It took everything I had to remain alive, as I could feel the jaws of death inching closer and closer. Finally, I was relieved by a familiar sensation… Alex came to a climax, filling my stomach with his seed, and soon he pulled out. Globs of cum covered my face but I was allowed to finally breathe.

“Fuck what a disgrace… Felt fucking good though.” He said, jerking his softening cock as he walked away. 

Aryan went to have his turn, I was not ready, I needed a moment but I did not want to disappoint anyone, especially Eric who was watching the entire thing. Fortunately, Jordan came to my rescue… In a manner of speaking. Right before Aryan went to stick in dick in my mouth, Jordan pushed up to him.

“Fuck no it’s my turn, cunt.” Jordan demanded.

“The fuck? You didn’t even want to try the fag an hour ago.” Aryan pointed out.

“Changed my fucking mind, now back off.” He insisted.

The two stood chest to chest, they probably didn't even realise their cocks were literally sword fighting right then and there. I had never had two men fight over me before. I would have enjoyed it, save for the fact I was distracted by the massive black cock ravishing my anus. 

Eric stood up and separated the two of them, placing a hand on either chest. “Boys calm down, The faggots not going anywhere.” 

“Fucking oath he’s not going anywhere, I’m going next.” Jordan declared.

Eric pushed himself between them and turned to Aryan. “Let him have the faggot next, You can have the ass when Tyrones done.” 

“Won't be much of an ass left when Tyones through with him.” Aryan said before reluctantly agreeing to step aside.

Jordan turned to me, placing his hands on my chest he arched his back as he slid his cock down my cum soaked throat. It didn’t take long for him to start skull fucking me. His balls slapping against my face hard with each trust. Suddenly I felt a warm sensation of liquid filling me up. Tyrone grunts were so loud, any sound proofing this room had wouldn't be sufficient. When he pulled out, I could feel the cum plop out of me and onto the bed. 

“Finally!” Aryan said, pushing Tyrone out of the way. 

“Fucking gross man, I know you got a horse cock but do you have to cum like one too? Pull out next time” He was criticised.

Tyrone Shrugged, “Sorry cunt, it felt too good.” And took a seat against the back wall, between Eric and Alex.

Another indeterminate amount of time passed, until suddenly I felt a fist clench and stuck me in the chest. It had me winded, which wasn't good considering a cock was blocking my airways. 

“Fucking hell!” Jordan shouted.

He struck me again, my body convulsed. I guess that was the reaction he was going for, the sensation must have done something for him because pretty soon he was filling my throat with another load of superior alpha male seed. He pulled out quickly and took a few steps back, I looked up at him, through the goo that covered my eyes. I guess he didn’t like it, because he struck me in the face. Hard enough to give me another black eye. He shook off the cum that landed on his hand from the impact.

“Fucking Faggot.” he said in anger as he took a seat in one of the rooms corners. 

I turned to look at Eric for some kind of reaction, preferably him demanding retribution from his friend having caused me such harm. Instead I saw him approaching, and without waiting for me to recover, he shoved his cock down my throat. It only took a few thrusts, and he finished inside of me. Adding to the alpha male spunk that coated my insides. In that moment, Aryan came to orgasm, mixing his middle eastern cum with the hot indigenous seed that he was forced to use as lube. 

I laid there recovering from the traumatic event. Cum oozing out of my anus, saliva and other bodily fluids dripping down my face. My chest rising and falling as I attempted to regain my normal breathing. With what energy I had, I looked around the room to see the five men lounging in various positions. Panting, their muscles bulging with each breath, the sweat dripping down over their skin. Ropes of cum hanging from their cocks. Varying looks of satisfaction and contempt decorated their faces. 

After a few minutes of silence, the air in the room filled with nothing but breathing. I suddenly came to a climax. Hands free, shooting a single jet of my own jizz from my tiny cock. Everyone saw, and suddenly the room erupted with laughter. Even Jordan whose face was once filled with most hatred for me was now in hysterics over my pathetic orgasm. 

The men climbed to their feet, giving each other bro hugs, high fives and demonstrating all manner of comradery, concluded by retrieving their clothes. They dressed themselves and filed out the door. 

Eric was the last to go, looking back at me. “Fucking clean yourself up, I’m gonna have a few drinks with the boys.” And closed the door behind him.

As instructed, I did my best to clean up. There was no getting the scent of cum off of me, not for at least one hundred showers. But I managed to make it to the bathroom where I was able to wash away the majority of the fluids I received from Eric and his friends… the ones I didn’t swallow, at least. I eventually dressed myself and returned to the main area of the club. 

There were more people now than there were before. I looked over to the booth where I first met Eric’s friends, and saw they were in the middle of some kind of epic conversation reminiscing about old times. I was thirsty for a liquid human males did not produce so I went to the bar. It took a while but eventually the bartender noticed me and approached. I went to order something but he placed a martini in front of me. 

“Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar.” He said, pointing to a rather plain looking man with an arrogant grin.

I smiled awkwardly and looked at the bartender giving him my thanks. Truthfully I was mildly offended being offered such a stereotypically feminine drink. Seconds later, I turned around to find the man who had bought me the drink standing behind me.

“So, having fun tonight?” He asked.

“No more than usual…” I answered with a forced laugh.

“Yeah I bet, I heard you earlier.” He stepped closer, too close.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, knowing full well what he was implying but acting dumb.

“I saw you go into the back room with that group over there, judging by the smell and that beautiful bruise on your right eye, I’m going to assume you’re a lot of fun.” 

I was going to take a sip of the drink, then my sense of reasoning kicked in and remembered that drinks could indeed be spiked. I placed the martini on the counter and leaned back against it, trying to maintain some semblance of personal space.

    “Let’s get out of here.” He leaped ahead, we’d barely begun this conversation and he was already assuming I was a sure thing.

    “No thank you… I’m fine here.” I replied.

    “Come on… We can go back to my place… You can suck my cock… I’ll fuck your ass.” He continued.

    “Please leave me alone…” This was a different kind of fear… It wasn't the fear of a god, the fear I felt in Eric’s presence, this was fear of a worm, a disgusting pig.

    “Aww come on, don’t be like that… It's no fun when sluts play hard to get.”

    The man was suddenly turned around forcefully, By Eric. “Corporal, what are you doing?” He asked

    “Lieutenant, just chatting up this-” 

    “Just nothing, the faggot asked you to leave him alone. Are you deaf?” 

    “The fuck is it to you? We’re not on duty, I’ll do what I want.” The stranger said.

    In a rage, Eric threw a fist in the man's head, knocking him to the floor. The stranger looked up to Eric, holding a hand to his nose to discover it was broken, and bleeding. Eric reached down and unloaded a series of punches into the man's face. His friends struggled to pull him off but eventually separated the two and the stranger fled the club. After a brief period of silence, someone from the crowd began to cheer, and the entire room began chanting Eric’s name. The bartender provided our table with a tray of six beers, I of course gave mine to Eric, or rather he assumed I would and took it regardless. 

    The atmosphere returned to as it was before, Once again I was sitting between the five of them, Eric was on my right, Jordan was on my left. It seems I was accepted into their group in some form. It was like being surrounded by five Eric’s, each one enjoyed making slurs, hurtful comments, and physically assaulting me when the mood struck them. Between the five of them it was interesting to listen to their various opinions on things from abortion, to gun control, to womens rights, to “Fag marriage.” They didn’t mind when I spoke up to challenge their opinions, or to alleviate their ignorance. They even seemed to enjoy the challenge. Most of the time however they would snicker as they listened to me explaining my socialist ideologies, and would counter my arguments by explaining how my “fag brain” wasnt capable of properly understanding the situation. Regardless, I felt weirdly accepted, kind of like the little kid being allowed to sit at the lunch table with his older brother and his friends. I enjoyed their company, their conversations, their humour, and their general presence. Being crushed between their massive frames was enough to give me a throbbing erection. 

    As the evening progressed, they went home one by one. Until it was just Eric and myself. I found it difficult to keep myself from grinning like an idiot as I looked between Eric and the glass of water in my hand.

    “What’re you smiling for, faggot?” He asked, with his trademark, arrogant, superior smirk..

    “I like your friends, I had a great time tonight.” I simplified my answer.

    “Seems like more than that, what’s going on in that little faggy brain of yours?”

I paused, weighing to speak my mind. “No one’s ever fought for me before. You broke that man's nose.” 

“Not the worst thing I’ve done for you.” He said, taking a sip from his beer.

I was reminded of the night of our third date, the night when everything changed for us. And an old question rose to the surface of my mind. 

“What are we?” I asked.

“Fuck me, not this shit again.” He leaned back, looking up to the ceiling. 

I shuffled over through the booth, sliding to his side. “It’s a simple question, and it doesn’t have to change anything, I just want to know…” 

“I already told you, faggot. You’re mine.” 

“Does that mean -you’re- mine?” 

“Fuck no, I’m not weak enough to be owned by you.” He laughed.

“That’s not what I meant… I don’t want to own you, I’d kill myself before you’d change that much… Do you like me?” the words eventually slipped through my lips.

“What is this faggy shit spilling from your mouth, boy?”

I took a sip from my water. “It's just that… we live together, sleep in the same bed every night, you introduced me to your friends. You’ve… done things, horrible things for me… you must have feelings for-” 

“The fuck you want me to say? Faggot?” He interrupted. He looked away, I couldn’t see his face, but I got the distinct impression he was angry. “You want me to say I care about you? Because this is as close to it as you’re gonna get.” 

“You care about me?” 

“I care about the cook who makes me breakfast every morning, the maid who washes my clothes every day, the indestructible sleeve that takes my massive cock every night. I care enough to keep you around because you make my life easy.” 

He spoke as if he were attempting to diminish his feelings towards me into a simple exchange, things I could provide for him. But I could hear it in his voice, he was listing what he appreciated about me. I went quiet, and smiled. My eyes started to water and I sniffled. A sound which caught his attention, he turned back to see me about to cry.

“Fuck, real men don’t talk about this faggy shit. Let's go.” He quickly skulled the remainder of his beer and stood, making for the exit. I wiped away any tears that fell down my cheeks and hurried after him. 

    “And stop asking ‘what are we’ in that little faggy voice of yours.” He added.

    When we got out into the car park, I went to open the passenger side door only to find it still locked. Eric had snuck up behind me, he turned me so my back was against the door and his powerful arms flanked my sides. 

    “I’d die for those men, I’d kill for them, If they tell you to do something, you better fucking drop what ever you’re doing and make it a priority. And if you go missing and they tell me they have no idea what happened, I’m not asking any questions. Understood?”

    The point was abundantly clear, though the sentiment behind it was not.

    “Fuck it.” He grunted, and once again managed to surprise me. 

    The warm unexpected sensation of Eric's lips pressed against mine. The moment was brief but unforgettable. He pulled away, wiping his mouth on his forearm. And our first kiss ended.

    “Don’t you say a fucking word.” 

We entered the ute, and drove home in silence. When we returned home, I experienced the roughest most vocal hate fuck of my entire life.