Gay Erotic Stories

I nervously surveyed the area. He had just told me the alley behind the bodega on 23rd. I had no idea how large or open this would be. It was actually the alley for a number of buildings, including a restaurant and a crappy looking hotel. It was just dark enough to scare the shit out of me, but not enough to make me feel concealed. As I paced around nervously, I spotted all the places I was visible from the street.

He had told me I would be beaten here, dressed as I was. His idea was that it would be a sort of a wrong place/ wrong time situation; taken by surprise. A young yuppie like me just shouldn't be walking down dark alleys in a bad part of town.

We had exchanged pictures. He was in his early 30s and I was in my mid-20s. He wasn't how the type of guy I usually fantasized about dominating me. He wasn't big or burly. He was as tall as me, but skinnier. Not unathletic, sort of wiry, but smooth, with a boyish face. Even though he was older than me, we looked like the same age. I had at least 20 pounds on him and was much more well built. Still, there was something about the way he looked. Like he had been in more fights than me. He had wild eyes; there was something feral in his smile.

The moon emerged from behind a layer of clouds, illuminated the alley. The December night grew quiet. I could sense someone behind me suddenly.

One punch landed in the back of my head, stunning me. Another bashed into my ear, made my head ring, two more in my face. I tasted blood on my lips, which felt swollen. He knew how to throw a punch. I feebly tried to guard my face and push him off of me. He used my weight against me and shoved me into a wall, landing two more fast punches to my face, one in my eye and one in the mouth again. Then I felt his knee come shooting up between my legs, faster than I could react. It smashed my nuts way up into my abdomen. That was the one that did it. It brought me to my knees.

He kicked my back and suddenly my face was pressed up on the asphalt. His foot pressed down on my neck and I sputtered, unable to breath. He grabbed my jacket by the collar and wrenched it off me. I was too stunned from the beat-down to resist as he pulled my suit off of me. I could only see the ground directly in front of me, and heard him chuckle as he tossed my suit jacket to the side. He brought one foot between my legs and slowly began putting pressure on my balls. He bent both my legs so I was in a kind of crab position as he quickly yanked both of my shoes off my feet. He chucked them somewhere down the alley and pulled my dress socks off both of my feet. The winter air immediately felt freezing on my bare soles.

As he stripped me with the precision of a highway robber, I realized I had gotten myself in way over my head. Suddenly I heard the sound of a switchblade flick open and felt a knot of terror in my stomach. He bent down, and grabbed me by belt. With one quick motion, he sliced the belt in half, then reached around my waist and knifed up the zipper and button of my slacks. He flipped me over onto my neck, my tattered pants already exposing my white, hairy legs. I looked up at him terrified. Fast as a cat, he used the blade to slice down the length of my right and left pant-leg. He pawed at all of the remains and suddenly my muscular, hairy white legs were completely exposed.

I looked up at my attacker. This was my first real look at him, since his photo. He was dressed like someone who had gone out for a jog in the cold night, track pants, hooded sweatshirt. With his hood on, he was terrifying anonymous. I couldn't make out his face entirely, but he had the same smile from the photo, the same sadistic sneer. I was so scared of the knife that I was completely paralyzed, like a rabbit in the clutches of a snake. He chuckled to himself as he slowly brought that nasty little switchblade down to between my legs. I was just wearing a pair of tighty-whities, and the little lump of my genitals (it was cold that night, after all) never looked more vulnerable. I was so scared of what he would do next, but also disgusted with myself for not fighting back against him. In addition to fear and shame, I felt a very tangible thrill, submitting myself to this attack.

He sliced my underwear in half and yanked off the tattered remains. Once he saw my dick and balls, he began to laugh his head off. He had a very menacing, wheezing kind of cackle. I'll never forget his laugh. As I had said before, it was a cold night, so the freezing air had done a number on my already meager manhood.

Confession: Even though I'm 6' and 185 pounds of muscle, I'm not very well hung. Fully hard, I'm no more than 5 inches long, and not all that thick. I'm not tiny, but on a big guy like me it is conspicuous. I often wonder if this feeling of inadequacy has helped to drive me towards this sort of situation, but there's no point in contemplating that now.

"That is one small fucking dick boy." The alley echoed with another burst of his jagged laughter. "You little-dicked yuppie shit. No wonder you're looking for trouble, you little faggot. You must be looking for a real man's cock." He grabbed his crotch with one of his long hands and shook it in my direction obscenely. My face went red, I felt like a woman getting harassed by a construction worker. Looking down in shame , I could see my penis had indeed curled up into itself. Shrunk by the frigid air, it had retracted to about an inch long, and seemed to try to hide in my pubic hair. My balls were nowhere to be seen. I looked like a little kid.

I reflexively covered up my small package out of embarrassment, but before my hands made it to my crotch he stomped me in the stomach with his foot.

"No fucking way shithead, no covering up what you are you baby-dick faggot." His running shoe to my gut made me short of breath, and through the pain I saw him rifle through my suit jacket, which he had hung on the side of a dumpster. Out of its pockets he found my cell phone and immediately began snapping pics of me. I was horrified. All I had on was a torn dress shirt. I could only imagine how the pics would look, me beaten up with no pants on in public.

"Say cheese, cunt." He said, snapping away evidence of my shame.

He grabbed me by my armpits and roughly picked me up so that my ass was still on the ground, but I was now propped up against the dumpster behind me. The sensation of asphalt against my bare ass cheeks was like nothing I ever felt before. My heart raced with panic.

He straddled over me and reached into his track pants.

"Here's what you came for, right faggot?"

From his pants he unearthed a long snake of a dick. It seemed to unfurl, and looked to be about 6 inches soft, flopping out of his big hand. It was white and thick, uncut. It looked unclean. Without warning it spasmed slightly and unloaded a stream of hot yellow piss that hit me first in the neck and then went up and got my face and hair wet. The strong stream was directed from my hair slowly down to my chest, soaking and staining my white dress shirt, and he brought it to my little dick, so that my pubes were drenched with his acrid waste.

He then brought the stream back to my face.

"Open up." He commanded and with his free hand he flicked open his switchblade for emphasis. I did as told and my mouth was inundated with the foul liquid.

"Swallow it all." For about a minute I was forced to swallow mouthful after mouthful of piss for him. He must have been saving up a huge piss all night long. Taking his waste into my body felt wrong, not just morally but physically. My stomach felt sickened to accept it all. He had swollen my belly with his piss.

At last he shook his big floppy dick and the last few drops hit me in the eyes. I was temporarily blinded as I heard him taking few more photos with my camera phone. I groaned aloud from humiliation.

"Oh baby we're just getting started." He responded and kicked me once more in the face. I looked up at him as he began to stroke his penis. It was like a balloon filling with air. It quickly grew to an obscene length. My jaw dropped, I had never seen a cock this big, and in the most sordid pornography I had never seen a phallus as long and thick as this.

"10 inches, bitch." He stroked it obscenely as I looked up at him dumbstruck. "10 inches and thick as a beer can."

He crouched down over me and picked me up by the armpits again, roughly turning me around in his grasp. He must have been a wrestler; he was skilled at throwing my greater weight around. Suddenly I was on my feet again, but pressed up against the dumpster.

"You're going to get it, cunt." He whispered in my ear lecherously. Suddenly I felt that terrifyingly large dick between my ass cheeks. I gulped. What had I gotten myself into?

I was shoved forward so that my ass was out and my head down. He hocked a loogie that landed square on my asshole. It was the only lubricant as he drove his prick into me. It took time, but slowly but surely he battered past my defenses. It felt like he was stabbing that switchblade right up my ass. Like a hot iron bar was being driven into my insides. I moaned like an animal being tortured.

Out of the haze of pain and humiliation, I suddenly realized something. He hadn't put a condom on. He was fucking me raw, this guy I didn't know at all. Suddenly, from deep within me, deep inside my body, I felt something open up, a sort of 'pop' in my rectum. I had opened up for him. His thick pubic bush scratched the lips of my asshole and tickled my cheeks; I had a bare cock up my ass.

All sorts of horrifying thoughts rushed through my head, and for the first time I resisted him.

"No man, no I can't do this, take it out. Take it out of me man!" I began to push back on him and struggled to get him out. He had me pinned, totally impaled. His left arm held mine close to my chest, rendering them useless. For a skinny guy he was strong, stronger than me. He slid the switchblade along my throat and took off a couple of buttons on my already ruined dress shirt.

"You're not going anywhere, bitch. You're stuck like a pig. You got my bigggggg bare cock up your ass, how's that feel slut?" He began bucking his hips brutally into me with each syllable, stabbing a short, anguished grunt out of me with each push. "I'm going to give you my seed and everything else, and once it's in you, it'll be in you forever. I'm going to give you my DNA and so much more, but you deserve it, don't you, you little yuppie faggot. You deserve to take it all."

Then he stopped speaking, and in the cold night there were only the sickening sounds of his hips smacking into my ass cheeks. I hated that sounds, the slapping sound of my ass, it sounded like a woman getting fucked in a porn movie. It reminded me that I had been penetrated like a woman.

He shoved my head forward into the dumpster so that I was face to face with a pile of garbage. The smell was inescapable and made me nauseous. It was refuse from the restaurant, rotting vegetables, rancid meat. He was purposefully bringing my face as close as possible to it.

I howled in pain as he began really ramming it into me. I sounded defeated. To my chagrin, my dick was hard too, at its full 5 inches, while he was jamming his 10 inches up my guts and then yanking it out, raking it over my asshole and pummeling it into my intestines. Soon he reached a new and torturous speed and the hand that was holding my arms began to claw into my chest, drawing blood from the white flesh just around my nipple. As he came he tore into the cuts with his hand, bucking his hips. It was like he was working his cock and trying to squeeze every last drop from his nuts into my guts. Even after he stopped fucking me he laid collapsed atop me, rutted into me. He simply kept it in me, his softening dick slowly trickling out the last dregs of his load into my swollen guts.

He kept it in me for a full 10 minutes after shooting his load up there. It was as if he wanted to make sure I absorbed every drop.

I knew my ass was torn up from his rough, almost completely unlubricated entry. During the 15 or so minutes that he had raped me, I knew he had opened up at least dozens more little cuts and tears in my intestinal walls, in my rectum, in my anus. A hundred little holes in my defenses. I could feel the heat of his thick and plentiful load percolating in my ass. I knew all the science of it, I knew how incredibly vulnerable I was to him.

I was sobbing.

At last he pulled out of me. He stood up, leaving me crumpled over the side of the dumpster. I heard him take more photos with my cell phone, of my defiled ass. He brought a knee between my legs, crushing my nuts, for no apparent reason. I just grunted softly. I turned to him and watched as he rifled through my jacket pocket. He helped himself to my wallet, my keys, my blackberry and cellphone. I had about $300 in cash in there, plus two credit cards. He took everything from me. Including the electronics, he robbed me of about $550 there.

"I'm using these credit cards; you cancel them or anything like that I'm sending these photos to your friends, family, work. I know where you live, I know where you work. “He stared down at me triumphantly as I gasped aloud, the possibility of blackmail terrifying me. He went through my wallet, putting the cash in his pocket.

"Roger Byron Packard," reading from my license, “I own you. You can never, ever escape from me."

He brought his face to mine so close he was almost kissing me, and without warning me head-butted me. Wrapping his arms around my stunned body, he brought me into a bear hug that was so tight I thought he would break one of my ribs. In one heave-ho motion, he sent me sprawling over the edge of dumpster and into it, so that I landed on a pile of garbage. I was in disbelief, and looked up at him as he brought the heavy metal top over it, closing me in. I watched him disappear under the dumpster cover as he laughed at me again, with that cruel jackal rasp.

I heard his voice from outside the dumpster. "I've thrown away your clothes, including your shoes. Don't bother looking for them. I took everything from your jacket anyway. Have fun getting home. Don't bother looking for something to cover yourself with, just run piggy run, run your bare ass home. I'll be in touch."

I laid prone atop the garbage, staring at the blackness of the cover above me, exhausted. He had really beaten me up; I'd never been hurt like that before, my whole body ached. My limbs felt heavy and paralyzed, and the smell of the trash all around me was overwhelming my senses. I was 50 blocks away from my apartment. I had no shoes, no pants or underpants.

After a couple of minutes of stunned contemplation of my predicament, I crawled out of the dumpster. I was filthy and smelled like it. It took another five minutes to work up the courage to peek out of the alley. The street was empty. Along the distance of the avenue, I could see a garbage truck. It must have been around 3am. I sprinted. I ran like a hunted animal.

The cold air chilled my bare ass as I fled in the night. Every so often I passed park cab, and I could hear laughter chasing me down the street. A group of homeless people yelled at me and called me a faggot. I was in a state of hyper-awareness; listening for sounds and looking all around for cars. It was late enough that the city was abandoned and the only sound was distant traffic and my panicked breath.

When I saw a police car turning up a few blocks ahead of me, I scrambled to disappear into an alley and cower behind garbage cans. I began again on my way after waiting for a couple of minutes in terror. I was running full speed, and was extremely aware of my exposed ass behind me. His cum had trickled down my leg and dried in my leg hair; I felt completely soiled and defiled.

When I finally reached my apartment, I began to get to work on the plan I had formulated during my 3 mile long run. From the alley adjacent to my building, I stacked garbage and junk beneath my fire escape. All the while, I prayed that I wasn't on any security cameras, or that no cops passed by the street. I leaped from the tower of trash and it took all my strength to hoist myself up that first rung of the ladder. My shoulders burned when I was finally on the platform. I scrambled up several floors, hoping no one looked outside their windows to see a big bare-ass white guy climbing up the fire escape.

When I reached my own window, I suddenly realized my predicament. My window was locked; I had to break it open. But I hadn't been able to bring a brick or anything up with me, because I had to leap up the escape and needed my hands free. I was so desperate, sitting on my bare ass on the rusty metal of the fire escape that I almost began to cry. I looked at my bare feet. They were torn up from the run, the soles were black, and I could even see a few bits of glass embedded. They were totally shredded. Closing my eyes and biting my tongue, I kicked the window with my heel. Groaning in pain, I pushed the glass enough and reached into to unlock it.

I was finally safe in my apartment. I looked at my right foot; it was cut but not badly enough to go to a hospital. Just then I noticed a blinking light of my answering machine. I played them and limped to the bathroom. I tried to sit on the toilet but the filth all over me made my skin crawl, and instead I lurched into the shower. The message was from my attacker.I let the cool water run all over me as I squatted and rubbed soap all over my body.

"Hey faggot, hey Roger-boy. Just wanted to let you know how good a time I had tonight and I hope we can do it again soon! I just want you know how proud I am that I did what I did to you. I did a lot of stuff to you tonight, didn't I? But you know, I think the most humiliating and the most ultimately damaging thing I did to you was putting so much of me right there up my ass, planting my raw seed up your asshole. Look in the mirror" Reflexively, I looked across the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror, squatting in my shower, black with grime. Squatting like a faggot. Look at yourself. You're just an empty hole with nothing but another guy's semen perking in your rectum." I looked between my thighs at the steady stream of semen, blood, sweat, piss and grime running from between my legs and down the drain. It couldn't be washed away. I felt my asshole, in the bush of ass hair a piece of unidentified rotting vegetable from the dumpster had become snared.

"But hey, let's face it; you're nothing anyway but sick yuppie deviant trash, so having your asshole raped bareback by a stranger who leaves his DNA (and so much more) up your asshole is really sort of a favor. Besides, it'll give you something to worry about long after those bruises have healed. " I was crying now. After that night, nothing was the same.