Dicked Down By Big Duff free porn video

There was no love lost between me and Roger Duffman. In college we had loathed each other, running in the same circles but rubbing each other the wrong way. We belonged to rival frats, and while I was a co-captain of our soccer team, he had been a star of the rugby union and played club hockey. Unfortunately he remained a fixture on the periphery of my post-collegiate group of friends, several of whom played in a recreational rugby league with him. More recently, about a year ago, he had begun dating my ex-girlfriend Kara. This was immediately after we broke up, and it was pretty obvious he had been hitting it when I was still with her, too. They were through now, though, from what I heard.

Frankly I couldn't grasp what Kara ever saw in him. Maybe after going out with a good looking guy like me, the slut needed a caveman to make her feel pretty. "Duff" was very much a neanderthal - big furrowed brow and perpetual scowl on his face, a barrel chest, a big beer belly but muscled arms and a thick coating of body hair that made little distinction between chest, shoulders, and back. Even in college his hairline had been aggressively receding and now he was bald, with just a closely buzzed pate of dark hair. Kara must have been reeling from me and needed to fuck some big ugly guy to nurse her ego.

At 26 I was still in a love-'em-and-leave-'em mindset that being a good-looking guy permitted me. I know it sounds arrogant but I'm hot, a handsome face and great body. I was hot enough that I can get pretty much any girl I want. But the idea that she might have been cheating on me with that baboon still made me feel sick.

So I was not excited when I saw him swagger into my gym, winking at me in the mirror as he pressed an amount of weight over his head an order of magnitude heavier than I could ever lift. I was even less pleased when he followed me into the gym's gang showers. Sidled right up next to me even though there were plenty of available shower heads.

"Hey Dougie, long time no see. How's it hanging?" He turned his big naked body toward me as he looked me in the eye. I looked down and saw that his wide, hairy feet were planted about two feet away from me. Duff was flagrantly violating multiple provisions of Guy Code.

"Sup." I said dismissively, turning from him. He leaned over, looking down at my groin, and whistled.

"Not hanging much at all, by the looks of it. Just sort of... poking out." He said, his eyes locked on my junk as he gestured with his pinky finger illustratively. His brazen innuendo was shocking, and I felt a warm rush of humiliation wash over me. Another Guy Code violation, talking about another guy's junk. Yet it was true. After exercise, my dick always shrinks up, retracts. I just had a little peanut at the moment, a little pecker. Compared to the big thing he had hanging, which I had caught glances of out of the corner of my eye, I was outmanned. I felt my face and chest bloom red in embarrassment.

"Fuck off, faggot." I spit out, not able to look at him. He chuckled at me.

"Bro get my back for me." He asked, presenting his broad, hairy back and equally furry ass to me, laughing with his back to me. I ignored him but stole a glance at his body. He had a tattoo that wrapped around his right love handle and stretched along the side to his stomach, one of those big blocks of writing, then some tribal crap on his left shoulder and bicep, as well as third of a snake that coiled around his thigh.

"Oh, come on, just because I fucked your girl doesn't mean we can't be friends." He turned to me again, a fiendish smile on his face.

"Well I was done with the slut. I feel sorry for her, going from me to an ugly fuck like you. How'd my dick taste?" I shot off, summoning all the false bravado I could muster. He chortled, and took a step towards me.

"Dougie, look between my legs then look between yours. Kara made a BIG step up." He shook his hog at me, a cocky shit-eating grin on his face.

I gasped a bit, both at the size of the endowment and his boldness in showing it off to me. Duff was well hung, no doubt about it- I don't think I'd ever seen one that big. Completely flaccid it hung mid-thigh, and it slapped noisily against his wet skin as he played with it shamelessly.

I felt paralyzed. On the team, guys had talked about sex and dicks in the showers and locker room. There had even been some teasing of the littler ones like mine, but never so openly had a man bragged about his cock size while belittling mine. And Duff wasn't my teammate, far from it. He was my enemy.

"You know what else, little man? Kara told me how much you liked taking her strap on right up your ass." He gestured lewdly with two big fingers, pointing them upwards while twisting his wrist.

My stomach dropped and my face went red with . I can't believe she had told an asshole like Roger Duffman details about our experiments in the bedroom.

"Oh yeah. She said you'd moan like a bitch and your little dick would leak just like a pussy." He laughed. I just grumbled to myself.

"I don't judge man. Nothing wrong with being a homo." He spoke with mock sincerity. Then he slapped my shoulder to get my attention, making me look at him.

"You try the real thing yet, Dougie?" He was wagging his hardening cock at me. I looked at the over-sized cudgel of red flesh slapping around his belly and thighs, for far too long I gaped at it before finally finding my words.

"Go fuck yourself." I spat out.

"Fuck myself? No, see I think you'd rather I bend you over and fuck you right up that little ass of yours. Kara said you told her you always wanted to try it." He winked and shook his hard-on at me again. It was huge! Again I felt the gnawing urge to stare at it openly, to admire it.

I forced myself to turn away, focusing on finishing my shower as quickly as possible.

"Come on Dougie, I know you're curious. You'd have to be curious to take a big fucking dildo up your asshole. I know you want to try the real thing. And look at it, Dougie. Look how big I am. This is as real as it gets." I stole one last peak at hig big hard hog that he openly pumped and wanked it in his thick hairy hand. Duffman's cruel laughter filled the shower room, rich with triumph that I couldn't help but steal another glimpse at his manhood.

"You're one sick faggot." I grumbled, then slammed my fist against the faucet to turn off the shower, turning my back from him and exiting in a hurry.

-

I tried to put the encounter out of my head, but later that afternoon I got a text from an unknown number. It was a photo message.

The photo was taken in a bathroom mirror speckled with flecks of toothpaste and grime. It showed a rhino wide torso, soft belly coated in dark hair, leading down to a big hairy unkempt bush, and a truly huge hard, red cock. I recognized the tattooed paragraph of text on his right flank, half of some famous quote. At the bottom of the photo two stocky thighs spread, and a pair of big balls, held tightly in a furry crimson sack that was pulled up against the bottom of the massive boner. A green and black tattoo of a snake coiled around the bottom of the sender's right thigh. But the cock was of course the focal point of the photo, standing up rigidly at an angle, grazing well past the man's belly button.

The cock. It looked beer can thick, the tightly stretched scarlet skin wreathed in swirling purple and blue veins. It was crowned by a big head. Bellend. That's what Brits called the glans. It looked like a bell, big, wide, and heavy.

I blushed. My face was warm and my vision blurred. It felt so strange to receive a dick pic. I felt violated. Sickened almost. It felt like an insult to my own manhood, to have this appearing on my phone without any warning. Is this how chicks feel when guys send them unsolicited dick pics? I could see that the sender was typing a message.

"You seemed to like what you saw in the showers. Figured I'd give you something to drool over."

I began to compose a response in my head, restarting several times, when I got a second message.

"Jerk off material while you ride your dildos lol" Followed by three eggplant emojis.

"I know you like it buttboy." Another text teased.

Another photo inserted itself into the message thread. This one was taken at an angle, held up by his chubby finger. It showed off how thick and long his rod was. It looked even more impressive in this shot, like he was holding up a thick dagger from his groin, or a police baton.

"For comparison." The third photo was from top down, so I could see Duff's hairy feet. He needed to clip his toe nails. In his hand he held a bottle, pressed just below his fuzzy belly. But his rampant hard was much longer than the Heineken, and almost as thick as the bottle's wide body . My heart was pounding in my chest. Duff was massive. Another message was being drafted.

"It's big right?" His text insisted.

I decided not to respond to him, not engage. Why would he send these to me?

"Certainly bigger than this little thing." Another text followed by a laughing emoji.

My stomach dropped. It was a photo of me from at least a year ago. I was sitting on Kara's bed, my head thrown back drinking a beer, my eyes slightly red from a long night of partying but fully recognizable. I was completely naked. From between my legs my hard penis emerged, topped by a trimmed, light-colored bush. It was a bad angle and I was in a bad position for a dick pic, with my legs closer to the frame and my hips sunk back. My hand holding the bottle which clearly dwarfed my boner.

My cock looked small, no two ways about it. Small and thin too, but unmistakably hard. A little pink and red pencil.

It was the worst possible representation of my manhood. Kara must have shared it with Duff. That bitch. I thought to myself.

"Don't worry I think it's cute. No wonder you're such a pussy with a little pecker like that." Another emoji, laughing to the point of tears.

"And no wonder you're so curious about my big man cock." This time he had the "thinking" emoji.

"See you soon, Dougie." He signed off with a kissy face.

-

That night I went out to my usual bar. I had just ordered another beer when I received a text that the friends I was meeting were gathering instead at a place a few blocks away. I decided to down this last one then head out.

As the bartender handed me my pint, a large, solid body sidled up next to me, pushing me back into the bar. It splashed on my wrist. My unseen aggressor slapped me on the back like we were friends, jostling me and causing me to spill more of my beer.

"Hey Dougie, on the prowl for some cock?" A deep voice asked in too loud a voice. The heavily tattooed bartender raised his eyes at me and I just meekly asked him to settle up my tab. He nodded with a smirk.

"Go annoy someone else." I said, avoiding eye contact as I felt Duff beside me, his strong breath in my ear.

"Yeah, I bet you'd get on your knees and suck me off in the alley if I let you." He mused, his voice rich with amusement.

"Hey speaking of cocks, how's your little toy doing?" Duff turned his body towards me, eying my crotch and elbowing at my side.

I ignored him, waiting for the bartender to close out my card. He leaned his body over the bar, forcing me to see him, to give him my attention.

"What's it like, having such a little dick?" He asked with genuine curiosity. The bartender looked up from the machine and openly laughed this time, shaking his head.

"Must fucking suck. It's fucking small, bro. Kara showed me other pictures. Videos too. I've seen it all bro." The ox patted my shoulder in mock consolation.

He leaned in close, lips brushing my ear, whispering wetly.

"It's like a little boy's, bro. Like a little boy's penis. You don't even look like a fully grown man, bro." I shoved him away from me but he fell back into me instantly, bumping his crotch into me. I could feel it, the sizable contents of his jeans and underwear pressing against my hip, his bounty pushing into me. I couldn't get the big man away from me without making a scene. His breath reeked of booze as he continued his half-hushed tirade into my face.

"Of course she couldn't feel a thing, whenever you put your little pecker inside her. She told me. Always had to fake it. Sucks for you, bro." His lips smacked against my ear lobe as he taunted me.

"Hey, seriously, was she your first? Your first lay? She said you fucked like a virgin. Like real inexperienced, unconfident. She said it felt like being with a teenager. Like you didn't know what you were doing at all." He asked, a tone of mock concern in his voice, then humping his hips forward jerkily to imitate me, belittling my sexual prowess.

Once I closed my tab I stomped off, but Duff quickly found me, corralling me into a dark corner of the room. His big body closed me up against the wall and he stuck a glass in my hand.

"Here. I owe you a shot at least." I hesitated.

"Come on, just because you've got a baby idck doesn't mean you gotta be a pussy, drink." He insisted. I looked him straight in the eye and downed the shot.

"Thanks. Now leave me alone." I tried to push past him but his body was immovable. He drank his own shot and then clasped his hands against my sides, locking me in.

"Come on, Dougie. I just want to be friends." His voice had a teasing sweetness. His hands remained in place, holding me. This all felt so strange. I hadn't ever been treated like this, by anyone. The big man was mocking me, clearly, but also it felt like he was flirting with me. Bullying while coming on to me. It made me feel kind of sick, and angry too.

"Wil you just fuck off, you psycho?" I struggled to escape his grasp.

"How about I tell everyone that you were Kara's bend-over boyfriend? Or better yet, show 'em?" My tough expression dropped from my face as I looked at him dumb-founded.

He put his big heavy arm over my shoulder, pulling me against him, and played a video off his phone. It was of me. Like the photo I was on Kara's bed. But now I was on my back, legs spread wide open. My naked body shook with each thrust, half hard penis jiggling as a bright purple phallus penetrated me. I was covered in sweat and my face was twisted up with stimulation, lips quivering, eyes wrenched shut. From behind the camera you could hear Kara asking me if it was good. And the sound of my gratified moans of delight made my face go even redder in embarrassment.

"Looks like you sure liked Kara's plastic prick. But I know your little pussy's hungry for the real thing." He smirked at me and shook his crotch suggestively. His right hand, still clasping my shoulder, had been rubbing it, massaging it. This big crazy brute really was trying to seduce me.

"My place is right around the corner. We'll have some drinks, smoke a little pot. Get you nice and loose and then I'll have you on your back with your legs spread in no time. I'll go slow, be gentle. I'll make it real nice, baby." He cooed into my ear. His big warm body was pressed up against mine, his left hand rubbing my stomach over my shirt. Roger Duffman was feeling me up.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, homo." I spat out angrily, shaking him off of me. He just laughed, and I continued, raising my voice.

"Get it through your head. You're a fat, ugly loser. Kara's probably the hottest chick you've ever been with, and she just used you as a rebound after I dumped her. I don't know why you're obsessed with me but you need help. No one cares if you have a big dick. Any chick would be embarrassed to be seen with you. You're a sad, fat, ugly loser." At the end of my rant I realized my heart was beating so hard in my chest I could feel it. He stared at me coldly for a moment, and then that dangerous smile returned to his face.

"Fair enough. Then be a fucking man and fight me." He challenged me in an unnervingly cheery tone. I looked at him in confusion, then past his shoulders, seeing if I could make my escape. I really didn't want to be close to this guy anymore.

"See Dougie, I know people. And I know that you, my friend, either need a dicking down or a beatdown. It's your choice, boy. But either way I'm the MAN who's gonna do it to you." He smiled at me as he jabbed his finger into my chest, pushing me back against the wall.

"You're out of your mind." I looked around the bar nervously. Earlier I had been relieved that my friends hadn't made it to the bar, hadn't overheard Duff ragging me about my dick size. But I could have used them now. They were bigger than me, as big as Duff. He stepped closer, scowling at me, and as I felt the brick wall against my back I suddenly felt much smaller than I was used to feeling.

"It's simple. We fight. No holds barred. First one to cry uncle or get knocked out admits he's bitch. If you beat me, I promise I'll leave you alone. I'll delete the video and pics." He crossed his thick, hairy arms over his barrel chest, smirking at me, his legs planted wide in a power pose.

"Puss out and everyone sees Dougie the Back Door Boyfriend. And I mean everyone. Friends, alumnus. Your old coaches. Social media. I'll send this shit to your Daddy, bro. I don't give a fuck." He threatened with a wicked half-smile on his face, and I felt a rush of adrenaline. Fight or flight.

I looked at him. He was bigger than me overall, but he was fat, out of shape. I took in the extra weight around his sides, his belly. He had let himself go since college, that was for sure. I had more muscle definition and could outlast him for sure, tire him out. One or two punches to his fat gut would bring him to his knees. I had taken down guys bigger than him before. I could teach him to try to fuck with me.

"Fine. But by the time I'm done with you, you're going to be even uglier, Duffman." He chuckled at my bluster. I downed my beer, fourth of the night, and with liquid courage I stepped out of the bar. Duff led me into the alley beside it. Further down in the alley past were a couple of younger guys smoking. Duff widened his stance and crossed his arms, grinning at me smugly.

"Now I'm feeling generous. I'll let you take the first shot, boy." He punctuated the last word loudly. When I hesitated he chuckled, and I heard him snort loudly before he spat a wad of thick phlegm at my face. The bastard had hocked a loogie right into my eye. It was wet and warm, oozing down around my nose. I heard shocked laughter from the guys smoking a cigarette.

Partially blinded, I took a swing at him. My fist collided with the side of his rocky, pockmarked face. He was surprised, pushed back a bit, but I saw him smirk as he stomped towards me. I tried to dodge and land another punch but he caught my wrist in his big right hand, twisting it painfully. The bastard grabbed me by my hair, clutching the back of my head. His thick wad of snot still ran down my face, his slime reaching my neck and collar.

"That was a pretty respectable punch, for a limp-writsted faggot." I heard the rush of air and felt his big, hard open palm smack down across my cheek. He slapped me so hard that I was seeing stars and stumbling a bit. He then shook his finger in my face like a father chiding his son.

"But here's what's going to happen, Dougie. I'm going to kick your fucking ass, and I'm not even going to punch you. No." Another forceful smack across my face wrenched my neck and almost knocked me to the ground. More astonished laughter from the smokers. Duff seized the collar of my shirt to keep me upright.
"See I don't respect you enough to punch you like you were a man. You're just a bitch, Dougie Calhoun." His left meat hook then ripped down the front of my shirt, bursting the buttons, opening it up and baring my chest to the night air. I tried to take a swing at him but he dodged and slammed me into the wall, his left hand still locked on my hair.

"And bitches get slapped." A third slap, this one backhanded, a pimp slap. I felt the taste of iron on my lips and saw a drop of blood on his knuckles.

He pawed at my shirt again, tearing it entirely open. He grabbed the collar and yanked it off me, ripping it clean off my back and throwing it on the ground and promptly stomping on it. I landed a punch to his big belly but it only made him laugh as he grabbed me and twisted me around. I heard the younger men crack up as I was forcibly stripped and beaten like this.

Duff seized my hair again and gave three more open-palmed slaps in rapid succession as he laughed in my face like a maniac. He left his big hand on my face after the third, squeezing my cheeks painfully and bringing his face to mine.

"Men get punched but bitches just get slapped. You got that?" He leered at me, grinning, his eyes bright with some strange combination of joy and hatred. I struggled to free myself from his grasp. In one last gambit I stepped forward, brought my knee up to his groin. But I was too slow.

Duff stepped back, and his thighs squeezed together, protecting himself. He grabbed my leg, and yanked it up, sending me ass over elbow. I fell to the ground with a painful thud, landing on my back.

"Oh you fucked up now Dougie Calhoun. I was gonna go easy on you, too!" He barked, laughing in outrage, a twinge of fury to his voice.

He kept one hand on my left foot and grabbed my right with the other, spreading my legs open like he was helping me stretch. I knew what was coming but before I could react he lifted up his leg and his big hoof stomped upon my spread open crotch.

For a moment the world went white with pain. Then my eyes refocused, and I saw the gray sides of the building, the sliver of night sky between them, the light from the street, and my torturer standing over me, snarling grin of delight on his big face. Two narrower forms stood above me tittering, the younger guys smoking cigarettes, both had their phones out, recording my ordeal.

"Yeah. Film it. Put this shit on Snapchat. His name's Douglas Calhoun." Duff turned back to me, grinding his shoe into my groin, making me groan in agony. His big hands kept their grip on my ankles, keeping my gonads totally vulnerable to him as I writhed around.

"Douglas Calhoun loses his ability to have k**s." He suggested a title for their video as he walked all over my babymakers, reveling in my agony. Duff leaned over me, propped himself up between my legs and slowly emptied a mouthful of spit onto my hair, face and neck, welling up more saliva to keep the stream going. Some even got in my open mouth. I watched him smirk down at me as he pursed his lips, pulsing to generate more drool. He then expelled the new batch from his mouth in long oozing strings, aiming for my eyes, my noise, and the mouth he was able to keep open with pressure to my testicles. He was unhurried in his bullying, in complete control, soaking me in his spittle.

"Or maybe... Douglas Calhoun becomes a fucking eunuch." He proposed as he continued to bust my balls with a series of quick, stabbing kicks to my testicles.

He then reached down and adjusted his hold on my ankles. In one move he lifted me off my back and spun me around so that I was slammed face down onto the street in the alley. The soft skin of my chest and stomach sc****d against the wet, jagged asphalt.

Duff let go of my feet, and I struggled to pick myself up, to scramble away. He kicked my upturned ass, mercifully missing my balls by less than an inch. The kick sent me forward a few inches, lifting me off the ground a bit. As I collapsed back down and groaned in pain, I felt him yank the sneakers off my feet so I was left in the alley in my socks. I turned my back and looked up to see him thrusting my shoes into the onlookers' hands.

"Here. Nice shoes, right? Take em, sell em, piss on em, throw em in the dumpster I don't give a fuck." He yammered at the two observers. I turned behind me and watched as he handed them to the k**s, who appeared no older than recent college graduates. They looked at them skeptically, but held on to them as ordered.

"He's my barefoot bitch now, ain't that right Dougie?" The younger guys laughed at my predicament. Duff stood between my legs and squatted down, and I felt his big hand reach around my waist and attack my belt buckle. In one quick motion he ripped my belt from the loops on my pants.

"Here, hold this for me k**." He then grabbed my waistband and pulled down my jeans to my knees, leaving me in just a pair of white boxer briefs. For a moment I was terrified that he would go further, pants me completely, leave me completely bare assed out here. But instead his big rough hands released my underwear and he stood back up.

"I fucking told you I was gonna kick your ass, boy. I may not punch you but I am gonna kick your ass!" He declared before planting his boot up my backside once again. Without the protection of my jeans this kick hurt twice as much as the last one, and I was shoved forward by the force of it. I crawled up on my hands and knees, in a six point stance. Just as I began to collect the strength to stand I heard him run up from behind me, kicking a powerful field goal aimed squarely at my helpless hanging nuts.

The yelp of pain I made sounded more like a kicked dog than a man, and all three of the guys laughed at my anguish. I closed my thighs together, gripping my traumatized balls, facedown in the alley. For a moment I was certain I would vomit. Duff reached down and yanked me up by my hair, bringing his face up to mine.

The cruel ogre winked at me then slapped me across the face twice more with his big granite hand, then brought his face to mine again, jamming his big nose up against mine.

"You're getting slapped because you're just a bitch. You understand?" He hissed at me, blowing hot breath in my face. I nodded glumly.

"Say it. Say "I'm a bitch, Big Duff." He commanded. The onlookers giggled.

"I'm a bitch, Big Duff." I groaned out pathetically.

"Louder, so the boys can hear." He grabbed my hair and thrust me towards the younger guys who still held my shoes and belt, held me up to face the recording camera on their phones.

"I'm a bitch, Big Duff!" Still too quiet for his liking, he boxed the right side of my head brutally, and my voice rose in pain and terror as my ear rung.

"I'm a bitch, Big Duff! I'm a bitch!" I yelled, my cries echoing off the walls of the alley.

"Good. Now say "I deserved to get my ass beat." He delivered another rough blow to the side of my head.

"I deserved to get my ass beat." I choked out loudly.

"Kiss my boots you faggot bitch." Duff ordered. He yanked my hair and brought my head down between his legs. Broken, powerless, I groveled before him, bringing my lips to the leather of his boots, one then the other. Eager to please, eager for this to be over. He laughed in disgust.

"Come on. Pucker up. Kiss my fucking boots." Obediently I kissed the big boots that had busted my balls.

"I want to see that tongue." Reluctantly I stuck my tongue out and licked the top of his boot. I heard their disgusted, shocked laughter above me.

"Pathetic. You know what? Kiss their fucking shoes too." He kicked me over to the two younger guys, who laughed at this new debasement. Between kisses Duff yanked back my hair so that they could capture my face in the videos they were both recording. I looked them in the eyes, and the bolder k** blew a kiss at me then spat down into my hair. Duff laughed at this, egging on his cruelty.

As I bent over and kissed one of the guy's shoes, Duff reached into my jeans, still pulled down to my knees, and grabbed both my wallet, phone and keys.

"OK k** give me that belt back. I'm gonna take my doggie for a walk." Both of the younger guys watched as I knelt there obediently while Duff looped my own belt around my neck, creating a tight, makeshift collar and leash. He yanked it, then kicked my rear end again, sending me crawling hands and knees out of the alley and back into the street. The younger guys barked and howled as we passed them.

Crawling on my hands and knees with my jeans pulled down was challenging, and Duff quickly grew impatient with my pace.

"Move your ass, doggie. You're lucky I don't throw your keys in the dumpster." He threatened, and I scurried to stay at his side.

When I got out of the alley and back onto the street I hesitated, feeling the eyes of the bouncer and his friends upon me. At least it was slow for a Saturday evening, with no huge crowd yet - just five burly guys smoking cigarettes and glaring at me in disbelief and disdain. I looked up at my tormentor, who yanked on the belt and shook my confis**ted phone, keys and wallet at me.

"You want these? You come with me, doggie." Duff taunted, dragging me along. Shirtless and shoeless, I scrambled beside him at his feet, the men at the door's laughter echoing behind me.

We walked like this for two blocks through mercifully dark streets. My a*****or mused to himself that while he had always known I was a bitch, but that he had no idea I'd go down so easy. Chattering on about how pathetic I was. To my relief, Duff's place was as promised right around the corner. It looked like he had a whole house to himself, kicking me in the seat of my underpants to send me scrambling up the steps to his porch then through his front door.

Doubly lucky, he did not appear to have roommates, or at least there was no sign of them. He locked up the door behind him and then headed into a living room, pulling me along with him.

"You deserve a drink after getting your ass handed to you like that." I just looked up at him, not sure how I should respond. What was I doing here?

"Have a seat." He gestured to the couch. I was a little surprised - I had thought my place would have still been the floor. I crawled up to the couch, and he stomped down on my crumpled jeans so that I slid out of them. He then kicked my discarded pants out of the way and turned away from me. I sat there in just my white boxer briefs, looking around his sparsely decorated apartment while I heard him puttering around in his kitchen. I studied the coffee table - littered with empty beer bottles, wadded up pairs of large boxers which were likely cum rags, and Xbox controllers. Roger Duffman was still very much enjoying the bachelor lifestyle.

He swept back in the room with two very large drinks. I accepted the cocktail and he sat down beside me, close. He took a sip and then threw his big arm over my bare shoulder. We sat in silence for a moment until he turned on his TV to ESPN. It was strange, with the low light and his proximity it almost felt like we were on a date. He kept the belt looped around my neck, held on to it. I hadn't thought to take it off from my neck.

"Come on, drink." He ordered, and I brought the overly-full glass to my lips. It was a strong drink with very little mixer diluting it. I couldn't even place what it was but I obediently downed some.

Duff grunted in approval, then leaned over his coffee table. I watched as his big form focused on rolling a large blunt from a cigar and the heap of loose marijuana on the table. The black polo shirt he was wearing rode up and I looked at the exposed small of his back, the sweat slicked thatch of dark hair there. I resisted the strange impulse to lean down and taste the salt of his perspiration.

"I knew you go to Murphy's all the time. Knew I'd catch you there." He took a long sip of his drink and put it on an end table, then with his free hand he began rubbing the back of my head.

"When Kara told me about pegging your little asspussy, and showed me the videos, I couldn't stop thinking about taking you. Taking you all the way." He dropped my leash and grabbed his blunt, bringing it up to his face and licking the length of it with his large, wide tongue.

"Taking me?" I asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, taking your ass. Butt-fucking you. Don't be dense." He snorted in derision then lit his handiwork. I was quiet for a moment as he took a long puff. Finally I responded to him.

"I can't do that." I protested meekly. He blew clouds of weed smoke into my face and laughed at me.

"You were born to be a faggot, Dougie. It's obvious, maybe to everyone but you. Good looking guy. Fuck that, gorgeous. Pretty boy. With a cute little baby dick. I had to beat that arrogance out of you, but now that I did I think you're ready to be what you were meant to be." He expelled another puff in my face, then lightly slapped the back of my head.

"Didn't I, bitch?" I looked at him in confusion, not understanding his meaning. He scoffed at my slow-wittedness and continued.

"Didn't I beat the arrogance out of you? Did I beat all the fight out of you? Take your pride? Did I break you? Or do I need to beat your little ass some more?" Though he smiled his eyes narrowed at me, his eyebrow arching, and his arm tensed, squeezing my shoulder, communicating to me the ever-present threat that if he wanted he could deliver a beat down that would make the thrashing in the alley seem like a playfight.

"You beat me, Big Duff." I answered. That's what guys had called him back in school. That's what he made me call him in the alley. He smiled, understanding what it meant for me to call him that unprompted, then passed the blunt to me. When I demurred he insisted, locking my head in a gentle chokehold and bringing it to my lips. He forced me to smoke. I closed my eyes and inhaled.

"That's it. For once in your life, stop being a little pussy. Have some fucking balls." He roared with laughter as I choked on the weed, coughing, my eyes watering. Ironically, I hadn't smoked since college.

"Oh Dougie. We'll make a man of you yet. Well, not a man, but a proper bitch." He slapped my back several times then began rubbing the small of it. He brought my glass to my lips, making me drink more of the strong cocktail.

As he placed it back on the coffee table, he snatched the waist of my boxer briefs. Ever the bully and locker room terror, Duff was an expert at debriefing a guy, stripping me naked in one smooth motion. He yanked them over my feet and tossed them toward my jeans in the corner.

"Whoops, there go your panties!" He laughed, then grabbed my hips to lift me off the couch and onto his lap, facing him. I was straddling him now, my legs folded on either side of his big hairy thighs. Completely naked while he remained fully dressed. He squeezed my sides with his rough hands, and brought his thumbs to my nipples. All the while he looked me up and down, at my mostly hairless chest where he played with my pink nubbins, my belly that he would occasionally rub his hands over, down to my spread open groin, my dick beginning to stand at half-mast as a result of his play on my pectorals. He would then swoop his head up to look me in the eyes and smile at my modest manhood.

As he toyed with me, Duff continued to have us drink like this, passing the blunt between us as well. At one point he took a long drag of it, clasped the back of my head and brought my lips to his, shotgunning the smoke down my throat. Again he cracked up when I erupted into coughing fits.

Duff lay his hand atop my head, petting me affectionately.

"Didn't want to have to give you such a beating but you gave me no choice. Had to make sure all the fight was stripped from you." His hand moved down over my face, seizing my chin and rubbing my cheek, then he laughed again.

"Look at that, got my hand prints on your pretty face." He reversed his phone's camera to show me his large, bright red hand prints on my face. The marks of each finger and his palm distinctly marked. It was obvious that I had been slapped across the face. Then he snapped a photo.

"Yeah, I knew you were a little bitch, Dougie." He said as he grabbed my sides again, squeezing as his mouth nuzzled my neck. He licked at the skin then brought it between his teeth to bite. I could feel him giving me hickeys.

Duff seized my wrist and forced me to rub my hand against his bountiful groin, to feel the rigidity in his jeans.

"Feel how hard you got me, bitch?" I nodded meekly.

"Ever suck one?" I shook my head, unable to look him in the eye.

"Liar. Well you're gonna suck one now." He declared, dumping me from his lap and onto the floor. He unzipped his pants and quickly extracted his massive hog.

I had stolen glances of it in the showers and shamefully studied the dick pics he had sent me earlier that day but now his monstrous prong was inches from my face. So close I could smell it. He leaned back and pulled his jeans and striped boxers down to his thighs, treating me to the sight of his whole manhood, the big red balls, the dense bush, and a swollen cock pointed right at me.

"You see Dougie, tonight's all about making friends." He said, gripping his dick at the base with his fat fingers, and shaking it, slapping it against his belly. When I retreated back he seized the back of my head and pulled me back between his spread thighs. Duff kept shaking his prick, and now the underside of his shaft and the big flared head slapped against my closed lips.

"Time to make a new friend." Locking my head in place, his hand clasping the back of my neck. He humped his bare ass up from the couch to grind and smear his boner against my face.

He increased the pressure on my neck, squeezing it painfully. I knew from very recent experience that he could do whatever he wanted to me. Could make me do whatever he wanted. Keeping my eyes firmly closed, I opened my mouth and tentatively licked it.

"That's it. Say hello." I raked my tongue along his shaft, rearing back then bringing it from the base of his cock all the way to the head. Duff's whole body shivered, and above me he groaned approvingly.

"Yeah you two are gonna get real familiar." The detaining hand on the back of my neck loosened and it returned to patting my head, running his fingers through my hair and stroking my scalp.

Despite his claims otherwise, I had told the truth when I said I had never sucked cock before. However the truth also held that back when I was with Kara I had always fantasized about her spinning me around and bringing her PVC phallus to my mouth. I had wanted to know what it felt like, parting my lips, infiltrating my jaw, occupying my palate and choking my throat. And when I saw my friends larger endowments bounce in their shorts on the field, or stole discreet glances of their free hanging cocks in the locker room or showers, I always wanted to know what it felt like to be filled. What a man tasted like.

Duff was very much a man, and he tasted like sweat, ball sack, a hint of piss. He tasted like the wiry pubic hair that was pressing against my face, the hard liquor and citrusy mixer he was having us drink, and the weed he was forcing me to smoke with him.

I lapped at him eagerly, bringing my tongue lower to say hello to both of his big, heavy balls, and to lick upon his hairy scrotum. He chuckled as I worshipped his babymakers. I came back up and brought my open lips to his glans, giving it open mouth kisses.

"Enough small talk. Time to really get to know him." I understood his meaning and opened my mouth wide to grant access to his big bulbous cockhead. He was in my mouth. I focused on keeping my lips over my teeth as his long, thick hard-on slowly invaded my throat.

"I think he likes you, Dougie baby." He groaned as he lifted his hips off of the couch to take more territory in my mouth. He grabbed both my ears and tickled my trachea with his big slab. I willed myself not to gag, to breathe through my nose. Soon enough, though, my throat rebelled, spasming like I was about to puke. I began to panic but Duff held me down for a few extra moments and finally mercifully released me, as I came up from his dick and exploded in a sputtering, retching fit. He laughed at me and poked at my chest with his foot, jamming his big toe against my nipple
"Come on boy. Back on the saddle. Only way you'll learn." He patted his thigh and shook it at me, beckoning me back to his spit-slick dong, impatiently forcing it back down my throat.

For the next ten or so minutes he had me blow him, directing most of the action. He would jam my head down on his thick hog to the point of suffocation, then lift me up my ears to allow me a few seconds of air before impaling my face on his spike again. I got into the rhythm with it, no longer panicking when I began to run out of air. I had the humbling, strangely exciting realization that whatever air I was breathing was what he allowed me.

It actually reminded me of my competitive swimming days, when I would overcome my body's natural instinct to surface, and instead race towards the wall, knowing that I'd take a breath after the flip turn. I trusted Duff that he would give me what I needed.

After I overcame the fear, I began to get into the performance of the blowjob, the goal of pleasuring him as much as possible. I thought of how I had enjoyed being sucked off by girl's before, the way they teased it with their mouths and lips, the tricks they played with their tongues. I lapped all along his shaft as my head was plunged down, feeling his rigid veins, and I even ventured to probe at his ball sack when he had me locked in the deep throat. He bellowed with laughter at my zeal.

"You're so good, Dougie.You're a fucking natural. You're sucking me like a porn star." He said, chuckling, his voice quavering with lust. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that he was filming me with his phone but I didn't care. Eventually he yanked me up by my hair and pushed me from between his legs. I collected myself, panting, and wiped my mouth.

He stepped over me and stomped over to the bathroom. He left the door open and I heard him take a long, loud piss. I found myself pathetically impressed by the duration and force of it. I stayed on my knees, thinking whether I should try to make a move for my pants, to escape this strange dream.

As he breezed back into the room I saw that he had stripped completely. His big half-hard cock wobbled at me obscenely.

"Next time I'll give you a taste. Now get up." I could tell by his gratified smile had done the right thing, staying on my knees until I was told otherwise. I stood back up on my wobbling legs and he pulled me into him. He pressed our naked bodies together, his bigger form pushing against mine, pulling me into him tightly. His large, rough hands felt me up all over, rubbing my sides, cupping my bare butt cheeks. He tapped his big Cro-magnon forehead against mine, breathing out of his nose and onto my face.

"I think our date's going well so far, baby. Now give me some sugar" He demanded before planting a forceful, wet kiss on my lips. He squeezed the sides of my head and his tongue was jabbing at my mouth until I relented, parting my lips for him. He instantly invaded, and began a long, insistent french kiss, a searching, hungry kind of mauling of my mouth.

I couldn't believe that I was being kissed by Roger Duffman, and as I felt my tongue reciprocate, entering his mouth, I couldn't believe that I was kissing him back. But sure enough there we were in his dark living room, standing bare ass naked, dick to dick and swapping spit like a couple of teenagers. Tonsil hockey.

"Come on, suck on this tongue." He broke the kiss to lap his wide tongue at me rapidly, taunting me with it, and I winced at the indignity of his demand. A thick strand of saliva connected our mouths, and I studied his big stubbled jaws, the 5 o'clock shadow on his double chin. I wiped my mouth, knowing that I wasn't just tasting the booze and the weed on his mouth, but whatever he had eaten for dinner that night too. I knew this was foul, kissing another guy like this, especially a slob like Duff. And as a natural bully or sadist, he wanted to make it as debasing as possible, to not just kiss me but for me to suck on his tongue obediently, force me to taste his mouth and swallow his spit.

He flexed it at me, flicking it noisily, and I reluctantly brought my lips to it and gently nursed on it as instructed, applying suction with my lips and rubbing my own tongue against the bottom of it. He groaned with gratification and then began to pummel my mouth with it again, taking back the reins as he lapped at my mouth and oozed his saliva into my mouth.

"All right you little slut. You know what's coming next." I looked up. His big mit slapped down on both my butt cheeks and his middle finger tapped at a place no man had ever touched me before. He chuckled when I gasped and shot up to avoid his probing hand.

"Please I can't do that." My voice trembled in fear.

"You don't have a choice, baby." His other hand grabbed my chin, and his big fingers caressed my face.

"I gave you a choice, in the bar. Fight me and prove you're a man or come back home with me and be my bitch." He laid it out as if it was the most reasonable proposition in the world.

"But it was always going to end this way. You weren't man enough to defend yourself." He shook his head at me slowly, stroking my face consolingly. Comforting me as the revelation hit, that I wasn't a man. All the while his right hand still clasped my naked bottom, his prize, and his middle finger tapped against my hole as steady as a metronome.

"And if a man can't defend himself, he might just get taken." Duff then grabbed me, hoisting me over his shoulder, carrying me out of the room as effortlessly as if he was lifting a bag of laundry. I just wrapped my arms around his chest to balance myself, accepting my fate. As we entered his bedroom I saw our reflection in a large full-length mirror opposite the door as he swung me around overhead. My smaller, mostly hairless body slung over his broad shoulder, carried by his big hairy body. The caveman hauling his chosen mate back to the cave.

He set me down upon his bed and then climbed on it as well, coming between my legs and grabbing me to place me where he wanted me, thoughtfully lifting my head and placing one of his pillows beneath it. He kissed me again, another long, sloppy make out session as I felt him reach over me and grab something from his night table. Then his hand found its way between my legs, and he touched me where no one but Kara had ever touched me.

"'You can't stop this. You're not man enough. You're not a man. You can't protect yourself from me. You've just gotta let me in, baby." He reminded me as he nibbled on my ear and lubed up my rectum. He then slung my legs over his lightly-haired shoulders.

That's what I had liked with Kara, when she pegged me those couple of times. The humiliation, the shame of it. The vulnerability. The obscene helplessness. The erotic ricidulousness of being a man on all fours with his legs spread open, letting myself get violated, penetrated and fucked like a bitch.

As I felt his big, heavy body pinning me down, his thick body hair and sweat, and saw the triumphant smirk on his craggy face, I realized this was even worse, or so much better. It was one thing to get probed by a hot chick like Kara. Quite another to feel another man, a real man's real, hard penis entering you, and to feel his big stocky body against yours. Duff lined up his big, wet dickhead agasint my hole. He looked me in the eye and spoke gently.

"I'm gonna go slow. I'm gonna make it nice for you, baby. But I'm gonna go all the way in. Gonna give you all my 8 ½ inches and then I'm gonna blow my load in you so deep that you get fucking knocked up." He laughed at the prospect and slapped his hand upon my sweating belly, drumming in his fingers and taking a deep breath.

With that he began his press. For the first few moments my body resisted, then his head popped in all at once. I cried out at the burning stretch of the forced entry. He continued the incursion, and I shouted as his cock breached my anal ring, feeling the insane pressure of him inside me. Duff was definitely bigger than whatever dildo Kara had used on me. He paused a moment, letting me adjust to his enormous size, then plowed on.

I had seen Duff at his rugby matches before as I had friends on the club and the matches made for a fun afternoon of heavy drinking. Even though I hated him at the time I had been impressed by his skill and power on the pitch. He was fearless and unstoppable. He had pressed the line forward, forced his way to victory through the churning scrum.

As I was penetrated, closing my eyes and biting the flesh on my forearm, I thought of watching Duff on one rainy match this past spring. He had the determination and strength of a titan, like a force of nature. Duff had beaten better men than me. That's what I kept thinking of. His furry calves, muscles bursting underneath as he drove forward, his wide shoulders locked with his teammates, cleats dug into the mud. Duff had defeated better men than me, men twice my size, driving them back, forcing his will upon them, making them cede ground, making them yield to him.

If those massive ruggers had surrendered to Duff's stronger will, what hope was there for a weakling like me? This self-sabotaging thought, this rush of surrender, helped myself submit to him, open up and accommodate his enormity. All I could do was revel in the wonderful defeat, relish being trapped beneath his massive form and impaled by his mighty phallus. I spread my legs open wider, pushed back on it in the hopes of bottoming out.

"That's it baby. Let Daddy in." He goaded, his voice ragged. Finally he reached full depth, successfully probing me with every inch of his thick penis, just as he promised. The realization that the cock I had been shamefully obsessing over all day, that big, ugly red hammer was now rammed up my ass, overwhelmed my mind. Not just a dildo, but a real live hard-on, pulsing in me. That fat cock, the dick that had made me a cuckold, was now fucking me. The monstrous depositor of his semen was now implanted up my guts, rooting around like an a****l. He smiled down at me smugly.

"You know just this morning you were telling me to fuck off, you thought you were such hot shit, now look where I got you." As he taunted me he swiveled his hips around, poking around in me with it, enjoying the new lands he had claimed. Enjoying having me folded up beneath him and pinned on his hard dick, and the breathless gasps and moans I'd make each time he'd poke in a different direction.

Eventually he stopped playing around inside me and began to buck his hips, humping into me. Duff found his rhythm, pounding me methodically at a steady pace. Our panting joined the sounds of his beer belly slapping into my stomach, his hips bucking into me, the bed creaking with each thrust.

"Yeah. You're such a hot little faggot bitch, Dougie. I should have taken you back in school. Little pretty boy." The compliments shamed me almost as much as the cock rutting in my rump. This was how I had gotten with girls. Tell them they're beautiful so they open their legs for you. Just like Duff was doing with me, doting upon me between gnawing kisses on my neck and chest. After plying them with booze and weed, just like he had done with me. Now I was the dumb, drunk, flattered slut letting him have his way with me.

"Kara loved it when I took her like this, on her back. She had a hot little pussy too, but I like yours more, baby." He gloated, smiling down at me benevolently as he huffed and puffed with each thrust, sawing his cock in and out of me.

I wanted it, I wanted his cock and the shame of it. I pushed back against his thrusts eagerly. Participating in my own deflowering.

As if he was reading my mind, he growled an order right into my ear.

"Say it." He brought his big maw to my neck and nipped roughly. There was another hickey for sure. When I just moaned in response he repeated his demand in a low voice. He stopped humping and slowly drew back his cock.

"What do you want? Say it." He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly, and began to lift his hips from between my legs as if he was going to pull it out completely. That would have been the end of the world.

"Fuck me Big Duff." I whispered.

"What's that baby?" He asked, smirking.

"Fuck me Big Duff." I said again, louder this time. I held onto his broad hairy back. I wanted him in me.

"Can't hear you, what do you want baby?" He began to plow into me again.

"Fuck me Big Duff! Fuck me Big Duff, please!" I shouted, staring straight at the ceiling, too ashamed to look at the cocky grin on his face.

From then on we fell in a call and response. Duff made me his cheerleader. He made me beg for it, over and over again. Shout out how good it felt, tout the mammoth size of his cock and his prowess in wielding it, sing his praises as a lover. Duff made me declare that he was the better man, the best man. I yelled out that he was the only man between us, and that I was no man at all, all while lifting my hips off the bed to receive each of thunderous strokes.

I looked at his face, bright red, screwed up with concentration, and dripping sweat. In that moment I admired him, truly admired the man making me a bitch, I was in awe of his manful fucking of me. I knew he was close and I squeezed down on his invading cock.

"Ahh fuck you're gonna to get it, Dougie, you're gonna get my fucking babies!" He hollered as he seized my hips and launched a final assault. Duff roared as he pummeled his hips into me wildly. As he came, rutting fully and shouting in my face, one of his hands slid over to my chest, between each pecs, pressing me down onto the bed. He began to torment both my nipples at once with his big thumb and pinky finger, while still humping into me.

With his free hand, he generously pulled at my half-hard little pecker, and in just three strokes I came, my shrieks harmonizing with his bellows. I had ejaculated like this while being peggged by Kara, cumming by my hand despite being soft. I blasted all over my belly and his big gut and barrel chest which continued their bucking motion above me. The orgasm was unreal as his rigid cudgel remained docked inside me. I howled with delight until my voice faltered.

The big man lay atop me, his cock slowly softening until his prong gently exited me, satisfied that I was fully inseminated. As I came back to earth I became very aware of his heavier weight. Duff had at least 60 pounds on me and I felt each of them. After he collected his breath he pushed himself off from the bed, off of me, our bodies unsealing each other with a sticky, wet sound. Remaining on his knees over my prone body, he shifted to my side.

"Lick it up." He pointed to his big, broady beer belly, still shaking with each breath from the exertion of our fuck, the thick black hair matted with sweat and my cum. I got on all fours and obediently lapped away at my own mess, running my tongue through the forest of his body hair, along his gut and barrel chest, everywhere my cum had hit him. I ate my own seed, sucked it up from his hairy body, from his bushy pubes, everywhere, tasting his salty sweat along with my spooge. Eventually he guided my head lower and I was made to clean the cock that had entered me, from head to shaft to base, even his balls where some of his seed had pooled. Finally he lay back on his bed, and pulled me into him so that I was on my side, my legs intertwined his big hairy tree trunks and my face atop his powerful furred chest. Duff caressed my hair.

We lay together, embracing, lovers in repose. The jarring turn around of the day struck me- just this morning I had loathed this man, and while I still resented him, for what he had done to me adn what he had taken, I could not help but admire his power and prowess at conquering me so completely. Not admire. Revere. I worshipped this man, his superior will and ruthlessness, and his bigger, more powerful body. The thought exhilarated me. I loved being pressed up against him like this, held by him, kept as his bitch. I worried that at any moment he'd tell me to get lost.

I ran my fingers gently over the his stupid tribal tattoo, then the block paragraph on his haunch, and finally to the snake wrapped around his hairy thigh.

"You like my tattoos, baby?" He asked. With my ear pressed against his big chest I heard his voice both spoken aloud and rumbling from inside his body. I had never thought of it before but I loved his voice, it was much deeper than mine, gravelly. I loved hearing it.

"Yeah... they're so sexy, Big Duff." I fawned over him. He chuckled at that.

"Soon enough, we're gonna get you one too, baby." I looked at him, fear and excitement in my eyes. Did he really intend to mark me?

"It's gonna go say 'Property of Big Duff.' So everyone knows who you belong to." I watched his face as he smiled at me and winked. I couldn't tell if this was real or just an attempt to mess with my head.

"And it's gonna go right..." His hand grazed down from my shoulder, along my back, then reared back.

"Here!" He shouted, slapping my right butt cheek, then squeezing it and shaking it roughly. I could already see it.