Excerpt for Gay Force 20: The Cellmate From Hell by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Gay Force 20: The Cellmate From Hell


Forrest Manacre


Copyright 2017


Author's note: All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.



Use of an image of a model in this ebook or in advertisements for it does not suggest that the model is depicted in the work presented here, nor that the model participates in, endorses, condones or approves of the thoughts or behavior described in this ebook.


Cover photo is Copyright Metrowind: Creative Commons https://www.flickr.com/photos/corsair/8923431517/sizes/l


Andre had been in Brutewood Correctional for six months, and he was in good shape, he thought. He had a secure spot in the Nine Tats gang. He was just a lookout for now, but he was well-respected. He was as safe and as comfortable as anybody could expect to be in a maximum-security penitentiary.

So when he was suddenly reassigned to a new cell, he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing -- his current cellmate was an elderly Puerto Rican man, which was a double-edged sword because Andre was safe around him, but also bored and powerless within his gang. It was tough to rise through the ranks with no one but Gilberto Matos on his side (and Gilberto was a bit senile and often forgot who Andre was, so he wasn't even always on Andre's side).

Much to his surprise, his new cellmate was Rodney "Tanktop" Jones, former NFL legend. Tanktop had been the most successful linebacker in the league when he was convicted of murder for an incident from his college days. He towered there in the cell when Andre was shoved in by the guards.

Andre's initial reaction was both relief and surprise. He had thought the rumors that Tanktop was coming to this prison were just rumors, so he was surprised to see him there. He was also relieved because he knew for a fact that Tanktop was also a Nine Tat. He had probably arranged to have a fellow Nine Tat for a cellmate. Being assigned to share a cell with a well-known and reputable member of the gang suggested that Andre's position was as secure as he had hoped.

That seemed more and more important the more Andre thought about it. He no longer had to live with Gilberto, he could live with someone who had connections within the organization. No one could ever attack Andre without clearing it with his new cellmate, and no one had ever suggested Tanktop was really mean -- when he was famous, he had been lampooned as goofy and stupid, but never mean.

"Ah, shit, man, Tanktop Jones!" Andre tried not to gush like a fanboy, but he was excited. "Oh hell, man, my brothers ain't nevuh gonna believe you my cellmate!" His excitement was tempered by the realization that Tanktop's six and a half feet tall frame and his beefy body took up more than three times the space of Andre's previous cellmate. He was physically difficult to get around. He beamed like a clown, doing sit-ups there in the cell even though he took up the entire floorspace, forcing Andre to tiptoe around him as he settled his things onto his bunk.

Tanktop worked out until dinnertime, while Andre asked him some questions but mostly managed to avoid embarrassing himself. He didn't even really watch football, he thought, he shouldn't be this excited about Tanktop. But so little happened here -- prison life was an explosion of dreadful monotony -- that this significant, important and interesting development was all Andre could think about.

Then Andre got to lead him to the mess hall, feeling like someone important for the first time since he had gotten here. He showed Tanktop where the mess hall was, told him about where the line started and the unspoken rules about who sat where.

"Yeah, thanks, nigga," Tanktop said over and over. He smiled a lot -- he had a charming, deep grin accentuated by a missing front tooth -- and spoke like he didn't really find any of this useful (he had been in prisons for fifteen years, just not this prison) but wanted to humor Andre. A part of Andre realized that but didn't care, he just wanted to seem useful.

After dinner, they had a few more hours of free time. Andre read quietly in his cell while Tanktop met with Smackdown, the leader of the Nine Tats. Andre knew better than to ask what they discussed.

Eventually lights out came, and Andre was tired enough to go right to sleep. Prison life was so boring that when something exciting did happen, Andre got overly tired like a child. His cell was uncomfortably warm -- he wasn't sure if that was because of this new cell's location or if it was the giant man's body heat in the bunk above.

But whatever the cause, it made Andre very sleepy. He passed right out, despite his anxiety over the new situation. Even Tanktop's massive body and heavy breathing didn't bother him. He thought Tanktop must be uncomfortable because he was much too tall for his bunk. Tanktop tossed and turned several times, his heft making both bunk-beds shake.

He awoke sometime in the night, groggy due to the overwhelming heat and humidity. He didn't know why he was awake, except that there was something on his teeth. Something touched his lip. Was it a bug? There were cockroaches in the walls, so that wasn't impossible.

"C'mon, shush, nigga, shush..." Tanktop's deep voice filled the cell. He whispered but he was so big that he didn't really have much of a whisper. His voice still felt loud in Andre's ears.

He gagged and pulled his head away, but Tanktop's hand kept him in place. Tanktop had a massive dick, nearly a foot long and more veiny than Andre thought possible. It rubbed over Andre's face. Tanktop was partially erect, and his cockshaft smeared sweat onto Andre's cheeks and lips.

"Hey-!"

"Shush, nigga, shush," Tanktop said with a nervous, rumbling chuckle. "Ain't Smackdown explain?"

Smackdown was the leader of the Nine Tats in this prison. Andre had only talked to him a few times, but it was Smackdown who must have arranged the cell transfer. Smackdown was in charge of all drug sales here (at least drug sales among black inmates).

"What? Quit it, nigga..." Andre wanted to sound tough, but he knew he just came across as whiny. This was all happening very fast. Was Tanktop going to rape him? That thought made Andre's heart race. "Get off me!"

Tanktop sighed. "Damn it... Why'd you have to wake up?" He sucked on his teeth. "Look, nigga, uh... I ain't a rapist, okay? Don't be like that."

"What are you talkin' about?"

"I want a blowjob, nigga. Smackdown said you'd suck me off. You won't be like-"

"What?!"

"Shush, nigga, shush. You ain't my bitch, okay? Just chill out. Relax, okay? No big deal. We just fuckin' around on the downlow," Tanktop said. He rubbed the tip of his dick over Andre's face. Andre gagged -- it was very salty with sweat (and, he presumed, dried-on cum), and the rubbery texture of its half-hard shaft felt disgusting to him as well. . "C'mon, nigga."

"I ain't... I don't do that, man," Andre said. His heart pounded in his chest. The smell of Tanktop's sweat, barely covered by cheap deodorant, filled the air.

He pried Andre's jaw open. "I ain't gonna rape you, nigga, don't worry. You ain't my bitch. You ain't even a prison wife, man. Just open up. Just the tip, okay? You can tell me to stop anytime if you hate it. You might not mind it, you might like it. Lotta faggots out there like it. I won't cum in yo' mouth neither. I just can't blow a nut from jackin' off, so lick on the tip a bit, that's all I need."

"Tanktop, stop-!"

But he just shoved his dick in Andre's mouth. He kept murmuring just the tip but he didn't slow down even for a moment. He rammed his dickshaft in until Andre gagged.

But then, even that didn't stop him either. His cock firmed up in Andre's mouth, and his hairy, low-hanging balls swayed. Andre's eyes opened wide as he struggled to push Tanktop away -- he couldn't see anything, of course, because the cell was dark at night, but his eyes still bugged out.

"Shush, nigga, relax, we just fuckin' around on the downlow. Don't make too much noise, okay, them guards prolly doin' they rounds," he said with a throaty chuckle. "C'mon, nigga, don't fight it. Open up that throat, just the tip, okay, ain't gonna treat you like a bitch."

Despite his words, he never hesitated for a moment. Andre wanted to point that out to him, but of course his mouth was full and Tanktop didn't let up. His cock tasted sweaty and salty -- Andre hated it but had to admit it tasted like a rather funky vagina -- and it made Andre gag.

"You still my main nigga, alright, don't get upset or nothin'. We gonna be real close, man, you gonna be friends wit' a football star. People don't even care 'bout cock-suckin' no more, nigga, you can tell folk when you ready. They gonna think you great suckin' on Tanktop Jones' dick. You gonna have girls be jealous of you, nigga..." Tanktop murmured. "So you ain't my bitch, you ain't gotta give up the booty or nothin', ya ain't gotta lick my doodyhole, ya ain't gotta swallow my nuts." He chuckled again and pulled his dick out -- for just an instant, long enough to let Andre take a hoarse breath while Tanktop dragged his sweaty balls over Andre's face. He laughed loudly at Andre's frenzied gagging. The smell of his stale scrotum was intense, and the coarse black hairs there scratched at Andre's tongue. "Sorry, there, you tastin' my nuts, but you ain't gotta taste my cum." He resumed fucking Andre's mouth, while Andre was mid-gasp.

Both his hands gripped Andre's head tightly, one on his chin, the other on his forehead mostly but moving around as he fucked. His heavy balls smacked against Andre's cheek because Andre's head was on his side -- Tanktop hadn't let him move much since he awoke.

"Ah yeah, nigga..." His voice broke and he moaned. His balls twitched, and a fresh flow of precum hit Andre's tongue. Andre gagged violently but all he could do was spit that precum back up and out onto his own mattress. "See? This ain't bad, nigga, you was complainin' for nothin'. You likin' it, huh?"

Andre wanted to say no, but of course all that came out was a moist gurgling sound, which Tanktop seemed to accept as a moan of desire. He clucked his tongue and murmured positively. "Hmm-hmm, I hear that, you lovin' it, huh? I ain't surprised, you got nice cock-suckin' lips. Right?" He pulled out, dick throbbing against Andre's lips.

"I-"

With a pranking smile on his face, Tanktop drilled his dick back in. He had to hold back a laugh as Andre gagged all over again. "I knew you loved it, nigga." He chuckled again. He patted Andre's cheeks and forced his eyes open even though it was too dark to see in the cell. "You suckin' on a real celebrity's dick there, man. Congrats." He reached down and briefly stroked Andre's limp dick. "You suckin' a real man wit' big meat, nigga. You ain't bad, you got somethin' to work wit'. But you should be honored to suck a big nigga like me off. Might make yo' dick bigger. You honored?"

He pulled out again, holding back a laugh -- if there were light in here, it would have been obvious to Andre that Tanktop was just teasing him, not really so arrogant as to think that Andre was honored to suck him off. But in the dark, and since Andre didn't really know him yet, Andre assumed he meant what he said.

"No! Get off me, nigga, I-!"

"Shush, shush, if someone hears you, they gonna think you my bitch, 'stead of my downlow-nigga," Tanktop said. He cocked his head to the side as footsteps could be heard outside the cell. "That guard's doing his rounds. Come on."

He dragged Andre off his bunk and deposited him on the floor on his knees. He tried to keep his dick in Andre's mouth, but it popped out anyway. Precum smeared over Andre's face as he heaved for air.

"Tanktop, what...?" Andre couldn't take a deep enough breath to say anything.

"Shush, that guard comin' over here. No snitchin', nigga," Tanktop said, still with that big goofy grin he was known for on his face. It could be seen now because it was illuminated by Officer Sudrovski's flashlight. Tanktop started doing jumping jacks when he was seen, his hard dick flopping noisily against his thigh -- the only way to see into the cell was through the tiny slit at eye-level, so Sudrovski didn't realize that Tanktop was even naked, much less erect, and he couldn't see Andre kneeling and gasping on the floor.

"You're Tanktop Jones?" Sudrovski asked, his normal confidence and correctional-officer swagger diminished because he was excited about meeting a celebrity.

"Yessuh, officer," Tanktop said, more enthusiastically than necessary -- he sounded sarcastic. "I's just workin' out, suh. How you doin'?"

"Oh, fine, fine." Sudrovski paused. "I went to one of your games. When I was little, like ten I think. My dad took me and my brother. It was a lot of fun-"

"I's mighty proud of that, suh, yes lordie!" Tanktop said. He slapped his belly. "Did I score that game?" Linebackers didn't often score, but that was one of the things that made Tanktop famous -- he made touchdowns on a regular basis.

"You did," Sudrovski said. He sniffled. "Hey, do you still do the Tankdown?"

"Do I?!" Tanktop grinned. The Tankdown was his touchdown dance -- it wasn't really much of a dance, but he moved his weight back and forth -- making his ass bounce right in front of Andre's recovering face, sweat spraying on his cheeks and nose -- while he made a bicep with both arms. Tankdown clapped and grunted to cheer himself on.

Officer Sudrovski could only see through his flashlight, so all he saw was some bare brown flesh rippling. But he smiled at first, then hurriedly shushed Tanktop when he started to clap too loudly. "Gotta stay quiet, Tanktop."

"Sorry, suh, I ain't mean to violate no rules," Tanktop said. He spoke very seriously through the slit in the door. "I ain't no kinda troublemaker, suh, just so's you know. I reckon I follow the rules to the best of my 'bilities, yessuh. I can see that you's a Christian man too, I can see that in ya eyes, suh-"

"Uh-huh." Officer Sudrovski's voice was suddenly clipped, like he had realized that Tanktop was being solicitiously manipulative. "You're not supposed to be out of bed. That's a rule. Unless you're on the toilet."

"Oh, I's sorry, suh, I was just workin' out on account of it's a healthy way of dealin' with dress," Tanktop said. "I's havin' trouble sleepin', and my doctor say them pills for bedtime -- you know them? The red ones? -- He say I shouldn't take 'em if I can avoid it, they's real drugs, suh. You can get addicted to 'em. So I try and use all-natural and Biblical ways of makin' myself sleepy, suh, I do workin' out and prayin' to the Lord, yessuh-"

"Okay, okay, chill out, just go to bed, alright?"

"Yessuh, yessuh, I rightly shall, yessuh."

"Where's your cellmate?" Officer Sudrovski's voice tightened with concern -- he only just now realized Andre wasn't in his bunk.

Andre could barely speak; his throat hurt and his lungs ached. A part of him wanted to complain, to tell Sudrovski that Tanktop was raping him. But that would be humiliating, and it would ensure that Andre was seen as a snitch and a prison bitch forever. He might be able to get into protective custody, but probably not, at least not forever.

"He's here, he was takin' a shit, yessuh," Tanktop said. The toilet was at the front corner of the cell, so Officer Sudrovski couldn't see it without actually coming in.

Andre stood up, wincing and squinting when that flashlight hit him in the eye. He wondered if the spit and precum clinging to his chin were obvious. "Hi, uh... yeah... I was just, uh, on the toilet."

"We real good friends, suh," Tanktop said. "We good cellmates, yessuh." He laughed and put Andre in a bear hug, picking him up like he was going to piledrive him onto the ground. But he just flipped him over again, back onto his feet. His dick, still hard, poked at Andre's back. "We gettin' along just right, Officer. We been talkin' 'bout the Bible, and 'bout followin' rules. We both is all about the rules, yessuh." Tanktop moved his hips to thwack Andre's ass with his dick, keeping himself and Andre close enough to the door that Sudrovski couldn't see.

"Okay, okay, that's nice. Both of you to bed now," Sudrovski said. "I'll have to write you up if you're still out of bed when I come back." He walked away, and Andre instantly regretted not telling Sudrovski what was happening.

"Have a good night, suh, and god bless," Tanktop said. He didn't lower his voice and he aimed it right out into the hallway, so his baritone rang out and echoed. It was incredibly loud out there. It made Andre wince and Sudrovski turn around to shush him. Then Sudrovski awkwardly stumbled and whispered a blessing back.

"Tanktop, please stop," Andre whispered as Sudrovski left the cell block. "I don't know what Smackdown said, but I ain't into suckin' dick-"

"You was enjoyin' it, nigga."

"No I wasn't-"

"Just think about it, nigga, I'll stop if you really hate it," Tanktop said. Before Andre could complain anymore, Tanktop again pried his mouth open and slammed his dick in.

He had lost some of his erection talking to Officer Sudrovski, but Tanktop got hard again right away. This time, with Andre kneeling in front of him, he could more easily facefuck him. He gripped Andre's head.

"There, there, nigga, you doin' so good," Tanktop said. "Now I ain't gonna fuck ya face like a bitch, alright? I's gonna make some sweet love to ya throat. That's different."

Andre squirmed as Tanktop forced his dick in. He wasn't yet able to get the whole thing down Andre's throat, but he did get most of it in, which was pretty good for a first-timer, he thought. He stifled a laugh as Andre choked up a moist gag and spit spilled all over the floor.

"Oh, you doin' real good, nigga, that's yo' mouth havin' an orgasm. You're welcome, nigga, I gave you that. That was me," Tanktop said. It made Andre squirm more. "Sorry, man, I was just playin'. I ain't laughin' at ya." But he was laughing even as he said that. He really did think it was hilarious when weaker men like Andre struggled to swallow his dick. They wiggled and clawed at his body and gagged over and over, but Tanktop just kept on fucking that tender throat.

Andre felt Tanktop's balls bouncing against his chin, leaving behind a layer of sweat. Then he felt Tanktop's balls rise up in their sac. Tanktop had promised he wouldn't cum in Andre's mouth, and for some reason Andre had believed him right up until that moment -- all of a sudden it became obvious that Tanktop was never going to follow that.

"Alright, nigga, I won't cum in yo' mouth, don't worry. Only bitches swallow cum, and you ain't my bitch. You my nigga. We real good niggas. Open that throat up, let me in there," Tanktop moaned. His voice broke, which made Andre shudder, his eyes watering as he felt that veiny shaft pulsate deep in his throat.

Then cum sprayed into his mouth. Andre's eyes watered when that pungently salty taste of semen flooded him. His stomach churned, and he wanted to sob -- he had never felt more humiliated. His pops had forced him to promise he wouldn't let himself be violated in prison without a fight, and Andre had done it with little more than a squirm. But what he could have done? Even if he had been willing to fight, Andre couldn't hope to outmatch Tanktop Jones.

Was this a normal amount of cum? It seemed like too much. Maybe it came with being a big man, with big balls and a big cock. It just kept on coming and coming, coating Andre's tongue and filling his belly until he could even feel it sloshing around inside himself as he gagged.

Tanktop pulled out and sighed. He stayed right where he was, his massive cock and balls resting on Andre's face. Andre heaved for air, gagging, pulling pubic hair off his lips.

"Man..." Andre gagged. He wanted to remind Tanktop he had promised, literally moments ago, not to cum in his mouth, but he couldn't stop gagging long enough to say anything.

"Shit, nigga, you got a nice mouth," Tanktop said, with a deep belly laugh for a moment before he remembered he was supposed to be quiet.

Andre rolled away the best he could -- Tanktop's huge body blocked his way, and there wasn't enough space to really roll anywhere. But he managed to get Tanktop's balls off his nose at least. "Nigga, man..." He gagged again.

"Thanks, nigga, shush, shush, this ain't happen, relax," Tanktop said. He stood up and stretched his legs. He flopped his donkey dick in Andre's direction, flicking a few drops of cum onto his face. "Sorry, sorry, nigga."

"Man... You promised, nigga..." Andre had to pull another pubic hair out of his mouth.

Tanktop turned around to face the toilet. That placed his hairy ass right above Andre's face. He sighed and let loose with a stream of piss, which tinkled into the toilet bowl. After a few seconds, he said, "I ain't makin' you drink pee, see? Cuz you ain't my bitch. So don't freak out or nothin'. You just sucked some dick from a bigger nigga. That's normal."

"I'm not gay." Andre gasped. "You promised-"

"I know you ain't gay, nigga," Tanktop said like he was already exhausted and annoyed arguing about this, like he thought Andre should just accept it without complaint. "That's why we's on the downlow."

"If we're on the downlow, you should suck my dick too-" Andre snapped. He winced -- he wasn't ordinarily this confrontational, and he didn't want to risk a fight with someone like Tanktop.

Tanktop bellowed with laughter, loud enough that Andre was sure people could hear outside the cell, if anyone had been there. Tanktop finished pissing. "Yo, I ain't suckin' yo' dick, man. It ain't that kinda downlow. It's different for my generation, nigga. Don't act like a bitch, man. Smackdown said I can make you my bitch." He paused and laughed again, more nervously. "I ain't like that. That's, y'know, that's a big bother, I ain't wanna do that. Just suck me off sometimes, okay? Just the tip, and I won't make you swallow cum if you don't want."

"Man, you just did," Andre said. He winced again as he said it -- it was physically difficult for him to say that.

He chuckled as he climbed back up onto his bunk. "Sorry, yeah, I ain't mean to. I thought you wasn't worried about it, y'know, you ain't say nothin'. I-"

"I couldn't say nothin'!"

"Okay, yeah, sorry, nigga, sorry. I promise I'll pull out next time," he said. "Just chill out, man. Don't act like a bitch." He sighed. "Alright? Come on, I'll be cool if you be cool."

Andre tried to think of what to say next, but nothing came to mind. He couldn't fight back, he couldn't say no, he couldn't get anyone on his side or snitch to the guards. He couldn't even ask his friends or family what to do. All he could do was stew on his soggy mattress, while Tanktop fell into a loud, snoring slumber above his head.

Andre's exciting celebrity cellmate had turned out to be the cellmate from hell.


The End


This story has a sequel, wherein Tanktop takes his relationship with Andre to a whole new level of extreme eroticism! You can read it for free at Smashwords with the coupon code: KQ54S!!!! It’s called Cellmate From Hell: The Pro Linebacker!!!

Keep reading after the end-matter to find a complete bonus story, presented just for loyal readers like you!

Each entry in the Gay Force series explores and worships one alpha dominant-archetype of non-consensual gay fuckery! The tales in this series are brief attempts at perfecting a classic violent fuckery scenario, and are therefore short, harsh and brutal. These stories are violent, painful and immoral, and are too offensive for anyone. Do not read them. You can follow the series on Tumblr or subscribe to the mailing list.


Each story in this series is numbered when the scenario is created or suggested by a reader. Not all entries will necessarily be written. If you would like to suggest a scenario, you can email eroticatorium@gmail.com. Adults only. By emailing any suggestions, you are permanently releasing any relevant copyrights into the public domain. You will not be compensated in any way. You may also add an entry to this series (no cost to you), just email eroticatorium@gmail.com. Adults only.


Gay Force 1: Mouthy Gangsta - Theo is a thug on the upswing of his criminal career when he runs into Samson, who thinks he is a mouthy, worthless nigga. Since Samson is fresh out of prison, he decides to put Theo in his place -- way down low! Theo is about to find out how bad bottoming can be!


Gay Force 38: The Meth Dealer - Chase just wants to buy some meth, but his dealer has something else in mind. Once he starts smoking up, he loses his moral inhibitions, so he simply throws Chase down and goes at him hard!


Gay Force 2: Sergeant Sodomy - Julian has no idea what the punishment is for sneaking off-base -- he thought it wouldn't be a big deal. But they don't call Sergeant Sodey by the nickname "Sergeant Sodomy" for nothing! You'll spew your stew over how much hardcore alpha-dom action Julian is forced to accept!


Gay Force 49: This Wrestler Is a Bad Boy! - Josh hasn't been showing up to wrestling practice, so his coach calls him into his office for a little "chat". If Josh wants to stay on the team, he'll have to show respect the old-fashioned way, by bending over, grabbing his ankles and opening his mouth wide!


Gay Force 33: Gamblin' Man - Ben has just discovered he's a gambling addict in the worst possible way -- by losing everything! He manages to beg a bouncer into giving him a chance to earn one casino chip, but Ben's got to submit and debase himself in a most humiliating way. The bouncer's got something to prove, so Ben is forced to explore the world of raunchy rimjobs, toilet sex and more!

Gay Force 19: Ultimate Urban Domination


Forrest Manacre


Copyright 2016


Author's note: All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.



Use of an image of a model in this ebook or in advertisements for it does not suggest that the model is depicted in the work presented here, nor that the model participates in, endorses, condones or approves of the thoughts or behavior described in this ebook.


Cover photo is Copyright Metrowind: Creative Commons https://www.flickr.com/photos/corsair/8923431517/sizes/l


"Look here, Jimmy boy, I'm gonna be real upfront wit'cha," said Uncle Nelson. Jimmy had trouble concentrating on his words because Uncle Nelson was so intimidating. He was nearly seven feet tall, broad shouldered and thick-bodied. He had a dense bristly mustache. He had come over without Jimmy's grandmother -- who had married Uncle Nelson just a few months ago. He had never come over to Jimmy's apartment above the family restaurant without her. "I came into ya grandmama's life wit' an ulterior motive."

"Where is she-?"

Nelson slapped him. "Don't you interrupt me. I put her in a home."

"What?" Jimmy's heart sank. "Where? What?"

He slapped Jimmy hard. "Make me say it again, nigga! Make me say it again! Shut yo' mouth!"

Despite his huge size, Uncle Nelson had always been incredibly kind until today. Jimmy was much smaller and weaker, so he had been scared from the moment his grandmom brought Nelson home from church one day. He was new to the area then, and he had fallen in love with her right away.

"Now yo' grandmama signed this whole building over to me," Nelson said. He paused to see if Jimmy would interrupt him again, but he didn't. Jimmy trembled in front of him. Nelson lightly slapped his cheek again. "Listen Jimmy boy, you know what liquidate means? Course you don't, you a dummy. It means when you take somethin' that ain't worth much and you take it apart and you use all the parts some other way. Like when a store goin' outta business, they liquidate it. You feel me, Jimmy boy?"

"Yeah, man, but where's my dad-?"

"Yo' daddy's in jail, but I'm comin' to that." He smiled. "I ain't a nice nigga, Jimmy boy. I know I been actin' nice, but I ain't nice at all. Yo' family was not wise to trust me." He undid his belt and took his dick out. Jimmy yelped in surprise -- and fear, because it was more than a foot long, veiny and dark, and it smelled vaguely of sweat and pussyjuice -- and he tried to stand up, but Nelson pushed him back down. "Lemme just be real frank wit'cha. Yo grandmama married me and signed e'rything over to me. So I own yo' family's house and yo' family's store and I even own yo' car, nigga, which by the way, you may not use."

"You can't do that-!"

"Already done, nigga. Yo' daddy's in jail cuz I tol' him I put yo' sister out on the street as a ho if he ain't sign this murder confession -- there was a killin' I got weighin' me down, nigga. Not no more," he said. "Now yo' sister was a little old to start hoin', but I'm gonna make it work."

"Wait, what?!"

"I am liquidatin' yo' family, nigga. Y'all is a bunch of rank-ass pussies, and I am takin' ya out," he said. He thwacked his limp dick over Jimmy's face. "You might wanna start suckin', befo' I get real mad, Jimmy boy."

"My dad is in jail? He-"

But Nelson's cock pushed into Jimmy's mouth, and Nelson chuckled as Jimmy gagged. His dick was limp and rubbery at first, tasting of salty sweat. Tears welled up in Jimmy's eyes.

"Ah, yeah, this is the part I love," Nelson said. "No teeth. No hands. No regrets." He moaned without breaking eye contact with Jimmy, who felt a flush of embarrassment and looked away. Nelson dug his nails into Jimmy's cheeks and forced his eyes back to Nelson's. "Lookit me when I's fuckin' you, boy. You mine now, nigga. You should thinka yo'self as a slave, even if the law ain't allow slaves no more."

"But, Uncle Nelson, I-"

He laughed, forcing his cock back into Jimmy's throat. It was so huge that it didn't feel real to Jimmy, who had never seen a cock so huge. A few drops of precum hit his tongue, and the electrifyingly salty flavor made Jimmy gag.

"You still callin' me uncle, boy? I ain't yo' family." He wrapped his hands around the back of Jimmy's head, and began to slowly grind his dick lower and lower in Jimmy's throat. "I let you be a busboy in the restaurant. I ain't gonna pay you a damn dime, but I let ya eat scraps and shit."

Having been in shock since this began, Jimmy hadn't really fought back. But as his throat heaved and his lungs cried out for oxygen, he realized he could fight. He clawed at Nelson's muscle-bound body and squirmed.

"Ah, there it is, there you go," Nelson said. He held tightly onto Jimmy's head. "You fightin' now, huh? That's normal, that'll pass. I'm gonna break you, boy. See it used to be that the rule of law weren't so strong, and weak-kneed motherfuckers like you and yo' whole family just get took up by some strong motherfucker like me, someone who can make sure you reach yo' maximum potential. For you..." Nelson laughed, smearing tendrils of spit over Jimmy's face as he watched him choke on his massive cock. "Yo' maximum potential is a busboy who occasionally gets to eat my asshole. Yo' whole family was garbage, Jimmy boy. Yo' granddaddy was worth a damn, but he dead now. You'd have just run this company into the ground. I'm takin' it."

Jimmy squealed and tried to crawl away, but Nelson just punched him again. Jimmy was on his back. Nelson slowly lowered his hefty, broad ass right on Jimmy's face. His crack was choked with dark kinky black hairs, which scratched Jimmy's skin.

"Lick it up, Jimmy boy, get ya tongue in there." When Jimmy didn't comply right away, Nelson punched him in the belly. Jimmy groaned. "Get yo' tongue inside my asshole now, bitch. I can still make you a whore just like ya sister."

Jimmy still wanted to fight, but he was so weak and skinny he knew he couldn't. His body submitted even as his mind wanted to fight back. His tongue slipped into Nelson's asshole. The taste of man-funk flooded his senses.

Nelson loudly moaned. His ass-sweat trickled into Jimmy's mouth, and Jimmy gagged so violently his stomach hurt. Nelson sat on his face, all of his weight pressing down on Jimmy's head. He was big man, and it felt like Jimmy's head was going to cave in. He couldn't focus on anything but squirming beneath Nelson's giant body.

"Move ya tongue around some more. How's my ass taste, boy?"

"Please... stop-" Jimmy had to shout to be heard through the meat of Nelson's ass. That made Nelson laugh and pound on Jimmy's belly some more.

"Nah, this is yo' life now, Jimmy boy, it's already done. Get used to it." Nelson rubbed his asshole over Jimmy's face, leaving a layer of funk. "From now on, e'ry time I come into my restaurant, or up here -- anytime you see me, basically -- I want you to lick my asshole, okay?"

"No!"

Nelson stood up and punched Jimmy in the belly. Jimmy screamed and gagged as the rush of fresh air made the assy taste on his tongue even more rancid. He writhed, but Nelson made him stay on his back. "What'd I say? You my slave, bitch. You can leave any time, but I own ya ass. I own this building and I own ya car and I own ya job and I own e'rything here in this apartment. I got ya daddy in jail and ya grandmom in care and ya sister out hoin'. I can decide to kill any one of 'em anytime," he said.

"Through his tears, Jimmy grunted. "I can... do... Man-"

"You can leave, wit' nothin'. I will take the shoes off ya feet. I just might break all the bones in ya feet too, just to make sure you nevuh work again. You will work for me, Jimmy, for the rest of your life. Or I will make your whole family's life hell. Ya feel me?"

"Y.... Yes."

"Good. Now say I will lick ya asshole, Nelson."

A sob escaped from Jimmy's lips. "I... I will lick ya asshole, Nelson." Jimmy's tears were squashed by Nelson plopping down on his face again.

This time, Jimmy had no choice but to lap at that funky hole as tears streamed down his cheeks. The filthy, gritty feeling was almost, but not quite, enough to make him forget his sobbing. Nelson guided Jimmy's hands around his body to his cock.

"Stroke me off, boy. That's how you do a rimjob. Tongue in deeper. Tongue deeper, boy!" He punched Jimmy in the belly again, and when Jimmy cried out, he grabbed his tongue. He pulled it out until Jimmy squealed. "See this? You got a good five inches of tongue here, boy. I wanna feel all five inches in my ass, or I swear to Christ I will shove my foot up your ass, and I am not playin', I can show you the evidence I did it before in weekend lockup."

He nearly lifted Jimmy from his knees by his tongue, but instead lowered his ass to meet his face, so he rather awkwardly reached underneath himself to shove Jimmy's tongue into his asshole.

Jimmy tried to look away, but each time Nelson slapped him and forced him to look him in the eye. He was so intimidating that Jimmy couldn't think of any plan besides squirming and begging whenever he could catch a breath. Nelson's burly mustache shook as he sneered.

The fact that Nelson was not a thug made him scarier to Jimmy. He looked like a church deacon -- he was, in fact, a church deacon -- and he spoke like a Hollywood hero (or villain). That made him less predictable, Jimmy thought as his stomach twisted and turned.

He felt filthy and worthless. Jimmy sobbed in Nelson's plump ass, while Nelson rubbed his hole over Jimmy's tongue like a dog with infected anal glands. Every time Jimmy's tongue stopped moving for even a second, Nelson hit him or pinched him hard until Jimmy resumed lapping at his grimy prostate.

Nelson let out a long, low whistle. His cock throbbed in Jimmy's hands. "Hell yeah, there ya go. Fuck yeah. You got it. This is how you do a rimjob, Jimmy. All of ya tongue in there, hands on my dick... You gonna make me nut, boy, I swear... I was gonna rape ya asshole today, but maybe I wait."

A fluid hit Jimmy's tongue. It was rancid and sour, and it tasted like farts. Jimmy squirmed, sobbing in pain and disgust. Nelson hit him in the belly a few more times.

"Keep ya tongue up in there, boy, and move it around some," Nelson said. He groaned. "Yeah, nigga... Hell yeah..." His muscles all flexed at once, and a hot spray of cum shot over his flat belly.

Jimmy was only barely aware of his own hands on Nelson's dick. He didn't really move them, he just held on, while Nelson ground his ass over Jimmy's face, the movement making Jimmy give him a handjob as he licked his asshole.

A loud gag escaped from Jimmy's throat, the sound swallowed by Nelson's hefty body. Jimmy cringed as sticky fluids ran down his throat, coating his tongue. He thought for sure he'd never make that taste go away.

"Yeah, nigga... Ah shit, I am gonna like keepin' you 'round as a rimjob-bitch. Get used to this," he said with another whistle. He rubbed his butt over Jimmy's face, sending fresh new waves of disgusting flavor onto Jimmy's tongue. "Keep ya tongue out, boy."

He grabbed Jimmy's tongue as he lifted himself up. Jimmy yelped because Nelson really squeezed on his tongue with his fingers. Then Nelson kneeled next to Jimmy, put his nose right in front of Jimmy's tongue and inhaled deeply.

"You smell like shit. You smell like my farts, bitch." He hocked up a big loogie and spat it onto Jimmy's tongue. It was grimy and sour, and Jimmy squirmed all over again. Drool spilled out of his mouth as he gagged over and over. Nelson had a disgusted sneer on his face, holding Jimmy by the tongue. He spat again and again.

Then he pointed to the cum he had sprayed over his own chest and flat stomach. It looked like a huge load, great puddles of it that ran in rivulets down his chest. "Lick my cum off me. I'm gonna make ya tongue so nasty you wanna cut it off." He licked his lips.

Keeping a grip on Jimmy's tongue while he rubbed it over his chest was difficult and awkward for Nelson because he was so much bigger than Jimmy. He had to scrunch in to make it work. But he didn't let Jimmy control his own tongue -- despite telling him to lick, Nelson didn't allow it, he instead used Jimmy's tongue like a rag to clean the cum off his chest.

The salty bitterness of cum cut through Jimmy's pain and humiliation, making him sob all over again. Licking his chest reminded Jimmy how much stronger Nelson was than him. He felt like a warm marble statue. Jimmy didn't want to caress his shoulder muscles like a girl being seduced, but his hands flailed and that's what they did, embarrassing him even further.

"Now sit there. Look me in the eye." Nelson pointed to a spot on the floor. "Don't get up, don't wipe your face off. You may swallow the nastiness on your tongue. If you spit, I will kill you. I wanna watch you swallow that. I wanna see it go down yo' throat, cuz that'll be you agreein' to be my rimjob-bitch-slave. That's yo' willing agreement." He held onto Jimmy's throat with one of his massive hands.

Jimmy didn't want to swallow. But he knew Nelson wasn't kidding about killing him if he spit, so he tried to hold the soup of filth in his mouth. He wanted to come up with a plan, to gin up the courage to attack Uncle Nelson, or at least to call the police when he left. He couldn't avoid his instinct to swallow though, and he gagged violently as it went down his throat. He imagined he could feel Nelson's sperm swimming in his belly.

Nelson spat on him again. "Don't move from that spot. Don't wipe ya face off, not until I walk out the door."

He began to very slowly get dressed. Halfway through, as he pulled up his pants, he stopped, turned around and farted right in front of Jimmy's face. The stench of spit-flavored fart hit Jimmy's nostrils and he gagged. He wept continuously.

"If you do what I say, Jimmy boy, everything'll be fine." He went into Jimmy's kitchen. "You got enough food in here to last a couple weeks. You tell me when you run out, I'll give you some more."

Jimmy cried, sitting there. Nelson didn't let him move yet, so he had to sit there with a mask of cum, spit and assjuice on his face. Nelson took some stuff out of his kitchen and placed it by the door.

"I'm takin' some of ya shit. You ain't worth none of this, boy. Don't worry, I ain't gonna let ya starve to death. You know how to cook beans, right?"

"Yeah." Jimmy croaked. He gurgled and gagged all over again. Nelson chuckled.

"Good. Beans is cheap, I gonna give you mostly beans and rice." Nelson walked past where Jimmy sat. He undid his belt, plopped his plump asscheeks in front of Jimmy again and farted on his face. He wrinkled his nose. "You is one worthless piece of shit man, you know that?"

"Yes." Jimmy's voice had never felt so weak and wavery.

"Did you like eatin' my ass?" He paused, then, just as Jimmy was about to answer, he snapped, "say yes, bitch, or I throw ya out the window."

Jimmy hesitated. "Yes." When Nelson motioned for him to stretch that out, he winced and moaned. Nelson slapped him. Jimmy cringed. "I... I enjoyed eating your ass."

Nelson's phone rang. He looked at it, and his mustache wriggled. "It's one of my female bitches." He answered it. "Hey, baby. Yeah. I be ovuh later. Uh-huh. Yeah cook me up somethin'. That sounds good. I's just doin' a little work." He chuckled. He glanced at Jimmy. "Ain't that kinda work. You ain't gotta lick my doodoo-hole tonight though, baby, on 'ccount of what I's doin' at work." He laughed. "Nah, it ain't a girl. This nigga displeased me. Nah, don't worry, my princess, you ain't gotta be jealous. Oh yeah? Oh shit... Alright, alright." He looked at Jimmy. "Go sit in the bathtub, nigga."

Jimmy retched as he got up, but Nelson kicked him in the belly.

"Crawl! When you in fronta me, bitch, you crawl!" Nelson chuckled into the phone. "Yeah, he my slave. Yeah, sure. He come clean ya house e'ry weekend." He licked his lips. "Damn, baby, you got a evil side. I like that." He knocked Jimmy over with his foot, then kicked him in the belly until Jimmy gasped and cried out. He heard a cruel female voice laughing through the phone. "Get in there, bitch!"

Nelson allowed him to crawl on his hands and knees into the bathroom. Jimmy was too exhausted and scared to fight back, or even to think about what was going on.

"Yeah, baby. You can do whatever you want to him. I'm-a do it now, I gotta put the video on." He started recording. He took his dick out through the fly of his pants. "Open up ya mouth, boy, and start singing 'I'm a Little Teapot'."

The girl laughed hysterically as Jimmy tried to sing through his tears. His melody was interrupted by hot, bitter piss flowing over his face anyway, so it ended up just being the sound of him choking. Jimmy sobbed and gagged, his stomach twisting in knots when urine streamed down his throat.

He pissed so much there was a little puddle around Jimmy's bare ass on the floor of the bathtub. He cried and cried as Nelson put his dick away.

"I do whatevuh you want to him, baby," Nelson said as he put the phone back to his ear. "Yeah. I can set that up. Peace." He glanced down at Jimmy. "That bitch is evil, nigga. She gonna make you do some real nasty shit."

"Uncle Nelson... Please-"

"You still callin' me uncle?" Nelson gathered up everything else in the apartment that he wanted -- or that he judged to be too nice for a slave to have. Before he left, Nelson stood over Jimmy and glared down at him. That mask of filth was still on his face, and Jimmy trembled, unable to think about anything but his desperate desire to be free of it.

Without another word, Nelson turned around and walked out the door. Jimmy was relieved to be able to clean his face off and cry, alone, for a little while.

It turned out that there were two men outside the apartment. They were just in case Jimmy had tried to flee. Nelson was glad he didn't. He knew well enough to know that once he had broken Jimmy's spirit once, he wouldn't try to run. He was his now.

Each entry in the Gay Force series explores and worships one alpha dominant-archetype of non-consensual gay fuckery! The tales in this series are brief attempts at perfecting a classic violent fuckery scenario, and are therefore short, harsh and brutal. These stories are violent, painful and immoral, and are too offensive for anyone. Do not read them. You can follow the series on Tumblr or subscribe to the mailing list.


Each story in this series is numbered when the scenario is created or suggested by a reader. Not all entries will necessarily be written. If you would like to suggest a scenario, you can email eroticatorium@gmail.com. Adults only. By emailing any suggestions, you are permanently releasing any relevant copyrights into the public domain. You will not be compensated in any way. You may also add an entry to this series (no cost to you), just email eroticatorium@gmail.com. Adults only.


Gay Force 1: Mouthy Gangsta - Theo is a thug on the upswing of his criminal career when he runs into Samson, who thinks he is a mouthy, worthless nigga. Since Samson is fresh out of prison, he decides to put Theo in his place -- way down low! Theo is about to find out how bad bottoming can be!


Gay Force 38: The Meth Dealer - Chase just wants to buy some meth, but his dealer has something else in mind. Once he starts smoking up, he loses his moral inhibitions, so he simply throws Chase down and goes at him hard!


Gay Force 2: Sergeant Sodomy - Julian has no idea what the punishment is for sneaking off-base -- he thought it wouldn't be a big deal. But they don't call Sergeant Sodey by the nickname "Sergeant Sodomy" for nothing! You'll spew your stew over how much hardcore alpha-dom action Julian is forced to accept!


Gay Force 49: This Wrestler Is a Bad Boy! - Josh hasn't been showing up to wrestling practice, so his coach calls him into his office for a little "chat". If Josh wants to stay on the team, he'll have to show respect the old-fashioned way, by bending over, grabbing his ankles and opening his mouth wide!


Gay Force 33: Gamblin' Man - Ben has just discovered he's a gambling addict in the worst possible way -- by losing everything! He manages to beg a bouncer into giving him a chance to earn one casino chip, but Ben's got to submit and debase himself in a most humiliating way. The bouncer's got something to prove, so Ben is forced to explore the world of raunchy rimjobs, toilet sex and more!


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