Serving Alpha Gods

    A fortnight had passed since I last spoke to Jordan. Eric assured me he was fine whenever I inquired. Although given he was a man and men don’t like to talk about their feelings, that wasn't reassuring. 

    I had become an accessory to three different murders, two with Eric, and now one with Jordan. I was beginning to wonder if this was going to be a regular occurrence. These men were obviously passionate, violent and lacked basic human morality, a dangerous combination. I should have been scared and in truth… I was. But something kept me wanting more, like a rollercoaster you never want to end. Was this healthy? Probably not, but I didn’t care. I was resolved to see this through to whatever end it would take me.

    Every other Saturday evening I attended a local rugby game of which Eric was on the team. As I’ve said before, I wasn’t crazy about Rugby or any sport for that matter, but I came to support Eric. I knew little about the sport and it was difficult to understand who was winning and why, but It made me happy to see Eric have the ball and run it to the end of the field. On the team with him was his friend, Tyrone. 

    The large Indigenous Australian man of the squad. Larger than the others, he was the Heavy of the group, the muscle. Not much larger, mind you, but whenever someone needed something moved, He’d be the first they’d call. The stories I heard of him indicated he preferred to carry around heavy weaponry, that usually involved something described similarly to a chain gun. He loved explaining in vivid detail what bodies looked like when they had been torn to shreds in mere seconds. I’ll never forget the story he told when their vehicle drove past a group of Muslim school children. 

    While I was technically watching something I had no interest in, seeing these two powerful gods utterly dominate the enemy team was so arousing. I attempted to hold back the desire to thrust my hips, grinding my tiny cock against my pants. The imagery of these muscular examples of human beings constantly pounding against one another was too much for my little dicklett to bear. 

    Twice now, Eric had “accidentally” broken an enemy teammate's nose in the guise of a tackle, Tyrone however, was winning this contest with three. The contest, by the way, was entirely made up in my mind. Whenever I’d see the blood spit from a new player’s nose, I’d resist the urge to violently masturbate in public. After all there were children around, and I at least had enough composure not to expose them to such things. 

    After about an hour or so, it appeared the match with Eric’s team had finished, and I summarised based on the score -and the fact that Eric and Tyrone were flawless divine entities- that they were victorious. As if there was any doubt. I was partially relieved, able to calm myself and stave off the necessity to rub my clit for a while as another pair of teams started to play. 

    I saw Eric and Tyrone head off towards where the rest of their team was celebrating their victory. I wanted to join them, but recent events made me wary of large groups of powerful men… Or so I told myself. The truth is, I had other plans. In the opposite direction were the changing rooms, where the team had left their clothes while they were playing. I snuck in, although it wasn't really necessary as no one was exactly guarding it, and began to search through the various contents. 

It didn’t take long for me to find my prize, I recognised Eric’s belongings easily enough as I helped pack them for him every morning. Beside his bag was what I guessed to be Tyrone’s. I started with Eric’s, of course. I unzipped the gym bag and was immediately struck with the familiar powerful scent of pure man. Stewing in the musk and vitriolic stains of Eric's sweat and other excretions, the bag contained all of it. I didn’t have to go much further, sitting on top of the crumpled up, hastily stuffed pile of clothes were Eric’s jock, the one he had been wearing all day. This hot sweaty summer day had brewed the perfect concentration of man, the scent of my god. 

Without hesitation, I pulled it up to my nose and started to sniff. It was not unlike a high, the blood rushed through my body, I felt light headed and cloudy, my heart was racing, the euphoria was taking over. No thought passed through my brain at that moment, I had already put my hand down my pants and began to tug at my boy parts. Rubbing them profusely as the most fundamental and rudimentary aspects of a true alpha male coursed through my bloodstream. I moaned into the jock as I took another sniff, leaking so much pre my hand felt as if I had pissed myself. 

“You fucking Queers are insatiable.” A compelling, dominant, deep voice called from behind.

I was sucked back to reality, and snapped out of my high. I turned to the source of the voice, my face hot and red with shame. The voice belonged to the dark skinned god Tyrone. Partially relieved it was not a stranger, partially also relieved he had not caught me with my noise in -his- jockstrap, but I suppose this was just as bad. 

    I opened my mouth to defend my actions, but no words came out.

    “I’d be embarrassed if I was caught doing something so disgusting, fucking degenerate.” He added. 

    He approached, ripping Eric's jock from my hand and quickly tossing it on top of the bag.

    “Listen you pathetic little cocksucking faggot. Put that shit away.” He commanded.

    I did as he said without hesitation, returning the bag and its contents to its previous status. Reaching for his bag, Tyrone retrieved his clothes and without shame, removed the uniform he was wearing, replacing them with the ones from his bag. He tossed the rugby shirt and it landed over my head. The natural liquid run off from his manly pits coated my head and sunk into my hair, bringing my dicklett back up to full erection. 

At that moment, I heard other voices growing in volume. Before long I was able to make out voice and words, I soon determined it was Eric with what I assume was the rest of the team. I quickly pulled the shirt from my head and held it as if I was simply assisting Tyrone, not that any excuse in this instance would fly, it was glaringly obvious based on multiple factors why I was there.

“You get that survey thing about fag marriage? Can you believe they think they deserve that'' Eric's voice called out as he entered the room, followed by the others. Their reactions told me they shared Eric’s sentiment.

    The Scandinavian god looked to me with a grin and pointed, “I bet this little faggot wishes i’ll get down on one knee and propose or some shit.”

    “Fuck that shit” one of the others laughed. 

    “What's the point? It would be like marrying a fleshlight.” Said another.

    I flushed red, for multiple reasons, but it was likely they assumed it was simply a reaction to their comments, believing they were right. 

    “Actually, I don’t believe in marriage.” My voice -like everything else, weak by comparison- managed to express.

    Eric smiled and wrapped his powerful arm around my head, pulling me into his raunchy pit. First being drenched in Tyrone’s sweat, rubbing between Eric’s arm and side, caught in his pit, He inadvertently added his own scent to the equation. I could not have found a more adequate definition for heaven if I had tried. “Eh! That’s why I keep him around, he fucking knows his place.” 

    Tyrone leans over to nudge me with his elbow. When my gaze caught his, he was giving me a knowing look as if to suggest he was expecting me to confess. Before I could however, Eric pulled as he turned us to face his friend. 

    “Any word yet, mate?” He asked.

    “Yeah, We should get going if we want to make it.” Tyrone replied

    My interest was piqued, or rather, as piqued as it could be while my head was being crushed between a set of powerful muscles covered in copious amounts of godly secretions. While the other members of the team changed, so did Eric while Tyrone and I waited. In the corner of the room he had dragged me aside. 

    “Don’t let anyone catch you fagging out on Eric’s things” He spoke in a soft tone, his deep voice almost too powerful to keep quiet, although it was obvious he was attempting to be secretive. Fortunately I don’t believe anyone in the room heard.

    “You’re his fag, you belong to him, not the other way around. You don’t get to use him for your own sick purposes. Do that shit at home, keep it private, and only if he lets you. Understood?” He explained.

    I looked down, ashamed of myself. He was right of course, Regardless of my own sick and twisted desires, He comes first. I nodded. A tight grip squeezed my throat and I was forced to look up at him, my eyes meeting his. 

    “Look a man in the eyes when he speaks to you, faggot.” He demanded.

    “Yes sir.” I replied.

    Unblinking until I felt a sharp slap to my right cheek.

    “Good boy, Go wait at the ute.” He ordered, releasing me from his hold. 

    I hurried off, I looked for Eric before I left as I became accustomed to seeking any sign of his approval. I gazed at his perfectly sculpted and defined body before he caught my eye and gave a typical guy nod. I involuntarily smiled, replying with a weak wave before leaving.

    I waited by the ute for what felt like a good hour, but in reality it was probably only 10 minutes. Finally I saw Eric and Tyrone emerge from the mass of cars, tossing their bags into the back of the ute with ease and climbing into the front. I took my usual position in the back, when one of Eric's squad mates was with us. 

    The two discussed their plans but made little reference to any context, Tyrone told Eric an address, one I didn't recognise. Eric pulled out of the car park and we drove away. To say that I was confused was to put it mildly, Tyrone began speaking about sport and soon the conversation topic changed to the objectification of the women present at today's rugby game. The vulgar comments they made were enough to smear my undies in cum. I had become accustomed to carrying around spare sets for just such an occasion, but I left my backpack in the tray, so I would be stewing in my sticky underwear for the rest of the ride. 

Eventually we entered a part of the city I had never been before, it seemed to be some kind of industrial district, or at least the closest thing this city had to such a thing. We pulled up to some gates just outside of what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. This could not look more illicit if they tried, all that was missing was a shady group of characters ready to make some back alley deal. And that's when I realised, We were a shady group of characters…

“Hey cunt, out, Open the gate.” Eric commanded.

To his order, I climbed out of the ute, closed the door and opened the gate. Fortunately it wasn't locked, but I guess they knew that. They drove in and I shut the gate behind them, following to where they had parked. There was another vehicle in the yard, on the opposite side from where Eric had parked. I deduced the owner was who we were meeting. 

When I approached the ute, both of them jumped out. Eric was on the phone, I overheard part of the conversation explaining how he had just arrived and was about to make some kind of “Exchange.” Based on context, I assumed he was talking to Jordan. Meanwhile, Tyrone reached into the back of the truck to retrieve some kind of large package. It looked decently heavy, given that Tyrone's muscles were pumping just to lift it. 

He looked at me and spoke softly yet deeply, ensuring I understood. “Keep your mouth shut and do what we say, got it?” 

I merely nodded in reply.

Debating on changing my underwear I reached into the back of the ute to find my bag, but Eric was already by the warehouse door waiting, and Tyrone was halfway there. I resolved to suffer the stickiness of my predicament and hurried after them.

Eric slid the door open and he and Tyrone entered, I followed patiently behind. The situation was thrilling yet terrifying. There was no doubt in my mind we were about to make some shady back alley deal. This was made all the more obvious by the people we came to meet. Two men, one was clearly the talker while one was there to look tough. 

The shorter stepped forward, with a disgruntled look on his face. “Thought it was just gonna be you two, who's the twink?” He asked.

Eric looked back to me for a moment while Tyrone shouted in reply. “None of your fucking business.” 

“If he’s here when we’re doing business, he is my business.” The man explained.

“He’s just some fag, He’s not gonna cause trouble… You brought the money?” Asked Eric.

The man looked back at his bodyguard, giving him a knowing look before returning his attention to us. I assume he decided not to press the issue, because he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a massive stack of cash. I couldn't even guess how much was in his hand as he waved it in the air. 

“You brought the product?” 

Tyrone replied by tapping the package, placing it down at the halfway point between where the two parties were standing. He then stood back, giving them the opportunity to inspect the “Product.” After a short while, he too stood back and began counting the cash in his hand very visually so Eric and Tyrone could see. 

“How much for the twink?” 

I was stunned, was he talking about me? Why would he want me? Surely it was a joke. At that moment, both Eric and Tyrone looked back at me briefly, then to each other. Sharing an hour-long conversation within a split second look. Eric looked back at me with that arrogant superior smirk of his. I thought to myself, He isn't considering this, surely. 

My heart sank when Tyrone declared a number. “Five hundred.” 

I tried to contain myself but I couldn't help express my fear visually. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. I tried to search for some sign of trust in Eric’s face but his calm, conceited gaze wasn’t giving me any reassurance. 

“For that little thing? He’ll probably squeal with less than an inch.”

Tyrone gripped the outline of his dick through his pants and rubbed it with significant vulgarity. “He can take both of us at once without complaint.” 

“Probably spoiled, Let us see him then.” 

I stood frozen, unable or unwilling to move, it didn't really matter which. Tyrone turned back to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me forward and throwing me towards the halfway point between the four of them. The stranger gestured for me to give him a twirl and I hesitated for the briefest of moments as I recalled Tyrone's words to keep my mouth shut and do what he says. I assumed this was what he was referring to and obeyed the command.

As I turned 180 degrees, facing the man who was attempting to sell me. I looked into their eyes to see the looks of approval on their faces. I must have been doing something right. Before I could complete the spin, I felt a hand grope my ass. It was solid and firm and clearly knew what it was doing. It wasn’t some vulgar, inappropriate, “dude” grab. No, this hand was evaluating me. It was scary, I had no idea what was going to happen.

“Keep going.” The stranger said. I assumed he wanted me to keep spinning, so I did as he demanded. 

“I may have a buyer, but used? Could take some doing. Three hundred.” He offered a significant drop. I’m not gonna lie, that stung. Was I really worth so little? 500 was already so low, but 3? And who is this other buyer he mentioned, yet another complete stranger. I looked to Eric once more for any sign, any signal this was a trick, but he wasn't looking at me. He was watching the stranger with the most calm, neutral face I'd ever seen him give. There was nothing to read. 

Tyrone was no help either. “The fag is a living sex toy, He does what he’s told, and has a bottomless anus. Five hundred”

“More trouble than it's worth. Four hundred” The stranger negotiated. 

“Four Fifty.” Eric added. “Final offer.” 

The stranger looked up from my body, first to Eric, then to Tyrone, then back at his associate. He then lingered on my face, making awkward eye contact for what felt like a good 5 minutes as he held my chin in the tight grip of his skinny hands. 

“Deal.” 

I kept my faith, I waited patiently for Eric’s plan to reveal itself, But this wasn't Eric’s plan, it was Tyrone’s. I had no idea what he was planning and why I was involved. They shook hands, money was thrown around. The strangers associate collected the package and hoisted it above his shoulder and then pushed on my own, guiding me from the warehouse. 

“Eric?” I whimpered involuntarily.

“Shut up, faggot.” He looked at me with a sneer, with disgust. Before we left the warehouse I saw the two of them counting the money. I was in complete shock, I didn’t know what I was feeling, or if I was even feeling anything. It felt like my body was completely devoid of emotion, of sensation. I obeyed my new owners instructions and entered their vehicle without question, sitting silently and we drove off. 

I have no clue where we went next, a strange car park somewhere deserted. Pulling up, the two strange men exited the car and opened my door.

“Out” the deep voice of the larger stranger commanded as the two of them entrapped me. 

    I was quickly pushed, hard, against the side of the vehicle. I bruised my nose from the impact and felt a rip to my pants.

    “Let's see what we’re working with here.” said the smaller man before I felt a rather average sized penis violently penetrate my anus.

    It's not as if I hadn’t had larger, Eric’s alone was well over three times the size. But he wasn't gentle. It hurt more from its motions than anything else. It was clear this man was merely testing me to see how pleasurable I felt. He fucked me for a solid… 20 seconds before I felt the warm familiar sensation of hot jizz coating my torn up insides. I prayed he wasn’t carrying anything deadly. He pulled out, and the larger man… with an unimpressive and down right disappointingly average sized penis, replaced him. 

He fucked me for significantly longer before I heard “What do you think? Worth the price? Sell him to the Exile?” 

Before the larger man could answer, I heard two loud noises. Gun shots, I felt the vibrations in the air followed by the wet splatter of blood flick across my back. The thrusting stopped, but not before a second load of cum was left inside of me. I turned around in surprise to see the two men who had bought me lying on the floor, dead. I didn’t look for long, the sight made me vomit.

When I calmed down, and finished emptying my stomach, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. I looked up in their direction, It was Eric and Tyrone holding what I assumed were freshly used guns. 

Instinctively, I ran at Eric and wrapped my arms around his waist. I felt his hand rest on my head.

“Dumb cunt” The orgasm inducing masculine voice soothed my ears.

“You really thought we were serious?” Tyrone laughed.

He reached down to inspect my anus, watching the cum drip from my hole and down my legs. “Fuck, Told you we were too late.” He noted.

“Free lube.” Eric joked… Partially.

Atop the fresh corpses, blood still pooling in the gravel, tears not even dry on my cheeks, Eric and Tyrone spitroasted me. I floated above the ground, my only support was the cocks that held my either end and the power arms of the men they belonged to. They lasted for well over an hour before we collected the package Tyrone had sold to these strangers earlier and left. 

First I was an unwilling partial bystander implied deaths of two men, then I was an accessory to murder helping bury a whore. Now I was centimetres from death, and the first thing that happened immediately after all three was sex. Needless to say, I was developing an association. The men in my life were exposing me more and more directly to death and soon I would not only come to expect it, but desire it.

When Eric dropped Tyrone off at his place, He looked at me in the back seat of the ute and said simply “Good work tonight, Faggot.” before giving Eric a fist bump and hopping out. 

    Later that night, after we had returned home, Eric and I were lying in bed. Yes, we had fucked again, making it a total of 5 loads I took that night. He looked down at me, his towering frame casting a shadow across my side of the bed. 

    “You thought I sold you into slavery today, and you obeyed anyway.” He noted.

    I looked down at his chest, nodding gently.

    “I’m a fucking god to you.” He said before dominating my mouth with his tongue. Pressing his entire frame onto mine, flattening me against the mattress. His hands tightly squeezing my throat and crushing my windpipe.

    “You live only by my fucking mercy, fagtard.” He said, before releasing my throat.