Indian Gay Porn Story of Librarian’s Slutty Fuck: 2

Indian Gay Porn Story: “The following story deals with the subject of humiliation fetish and degradation, which some readers might find inappropriate. Reader discretion is advised.”

To understand the context of the present account, refer to Part 1 here.

The experience at the library a few days before, horrifying and yet satiating in a strange way, had left me in a perplexed state: lying in my bed, pondering why I had been hard as fuck while that bastard of a librarian brutally plowed my mouth pussy. My soul was as much aroused as it was frightened, and my body ached in an inscrutable emotion comprised of terror and lust.

For the next few days, I lay in my bed, with a dicklet leaking at the thought of slobbing on that heavenly cock of His. Sporadic outbursts of shame and anxiety did come, for he now had some serious blackmail material against me, and I couldn’t disobey him if I didn’t want the town to watch my nasty skullfuck.

Whatever ramblings went on in my exploited mind, I had to be there at the same spot on Sunday, to submit myself as a prey to the hateful hunk. Feigning the studious-industrious mood that I used to naturally have not so long ago, I left my home and reached the library, the juncture of mundane hells and heavens, with an anxiety that made me look pathetic and feel even more pathetic.

The place was unusually quiet today, and I couldn’t spot a soul in the outer compound. The peon and the clerk were there as usual at the reception, and they did notice my arrival with disapproving eyes, but didn’t prohibit me to make for the Librarian’s room. With my feeble hand I pulled the doorknob, and saw Him on his desk.

How deeply that sight of His weakened me. A marvelous carved face, ornate with well-groomed facial hair that made the fair visage brighter, commanding eyes that made any subversion impossible, and all that held firmly on a wide, muscular and jocky body. Dense hair peeped through the neck button of the gentleman’s outfit he wore, so did those on his girthy, veiny wrists.

This man was indeed the best a closeted gay nerd as myself could get for a partner. But he wasn’t my partner, instead, he was inflicting what would be called an assault on me. But this very fact gave me a harder boner than the beauty of his physical existence. Being drowned into a stream of humiliation and degradation was as appealing as terrifying it was. We were, therefore, very strangely, a perfect combination.

He gave me an apathetic look as I stood in front of him like a self-hating deer who would lie at a lion’s paws in complete hopelessness. Apparently he was chilling with his smartphone when I entered.The same old disgust that my presence incited in him, it came back.
“I knew you were a cock-hungry piece of shit, homo. Why have you come here?” He asked in the same old mocking tone.

“Sir, you asked me to come here today.” My voice felt undermined by the stress of the moment.

“I didn’t ask you, I ordered you, bitch. And I had a purpose for this meeting, you remember?” His majesty interrogated calmly and firmly, as if he enjoyed grilling me.

“You said you wanted to fuck my ass, sir.” I was so ashamed to say these words.

“Oh really, did I, you brotherfucking idiot? So you’ve come here to get your ass fucked?” Step by step, more serious insults were thrown.

“Umm.., yes, sir.” He cracked up, and his demeaning laughter got blood flowing through my insignificant penis.

“So how will you get your ass fucked, moron? With those clothes on, is that how a homo gets her ass fucked, huh?”

“N..N..No, sir.” This was escalating quickly, and a strip command was to follow.

“So get yourself ready for the goal, gay guy. Get naked like you were when you started your poor abnormal life, pussy.” I knew that. I had learnt a lot about such encounters from porn blogs that I regularly followed.

With a throbbing pee-pee between my legs and fumbling hands unwilling to move, I took off my jeans and shoes, and stood in a red underwear, hiding the boner with my palms.

“Is that a hard-on you’re hiding, homo? I knew that, you like this shit! But I don’t care even if you don’t like it later. For now, turn around and uncover that ugly butt.” By now I was nothing more than a robotic creature whose sole purpose was to obey this taskmaster. No complaints, no objections. Total submission.

So I faced the wall and put my fluffy ass to his amusement, pulling the underwear out. My ass, I believe, is very similar to other effeminate and healthy guys, unreasonably curved as if to accommodate loads of men with operational dicks. But it was yet virginal, which sort of added to my credentials as a hole to this hung man. I had pubes, but the hair around my asshole were very small, almost invisible to a distant naked eye.

“Look at that! Sometimes I feel like I’m an omniscient fucker, you know, homo! I could tell from the way you walk that you crave cocks like mine. You want them to fill your holes, don’t you? What man are you, what goes on in your head? Tell me, do you really want me to fuck that ass?”

I didn’t want to answer this question, because I didn’t want to sound slutty with a “yes”, nor did I want to lie with a “no”. But silence was worse, it meant disobedience, something that I forgot in his presence.

“Yes, sir.” It was a Hobson’s choice.

“I know you do. How many dicks have you had before, you slutty fuck?” He was almost chuckling wickedly, amused at my exposure to his ruthless verbal abuse. I couldn’t see his face as I faced the wall, but it would have expressed pure contempt and disregard.

“I.. I’m a virgin, sir.” I don’t know why, but I felt pride in saying that.

“Haha! Virginity for you means no dicks in the ass, fucking queer! You certainly aren’t a man, motherfucker! Put the curtains on the door and crawl over to my desk.

I covered the doors of the room from where I was supposed to return with a bred asshole, and then I crawled over to the man who was supposed to breed it. His rose-red lips, surrounded by black beard, let out a demeaning smirk as I sat on my knees beside his chair.

He rotated the chair to face me, while my shivering hands still hid my boner, his tight ones grabbed my hair and painfully lifted my head to face him.

“Open your mouth.” He said, and as I did, he spat on my tongue and laughed. “That’s it. Poor little bitch eating spit like it should.” My dicklet twitched. His spit had no distinct taste, but the way he threw it in my mouth, it was damn humiliating.

“Keep your mouth wide open. I’m gonna use you as my spittoon very frequently, you’re good for nothing else, fucker.

Now tell me, is there anything you won’t do even if I order you, huh, homo?” He spat again, this time a bigger loogie.

“I asked you something. Is there something you’d refuse to me to do?” This wasn’t rhetorical this time.
“No, sir.” I had to say.
“So you’d do anything I say?”
“Yes, sir.”

“Kill yourself, then!” He spat again, this time in my left eye. It slid down my cheek and dampened my face. If the head of the library could read my face at that moment, he’d have found utter lowliness and purposelessness. What was I up to in life?

“What, you can’t kill yourself? You said you’d do anything I say, didn’t you, stupid bitch?” He bitch-slapped my face like a rag-doll’s. Then he stood up from his office chair and unzipped.
Those beefy thighs stood like pillars of a Greek temple, guarding what was indeed a divine idol for a desperate homosexual like me.

Soon I encountered the tool which blessed masculinity upon the man, with which he commanded the authority to capture my consciousness, my essence. As beautiful and formidable as it had been the previous time. It was flaccid and brownish at the moment, surrounded in a bush that only enhanced the cockiness of the view, and with balls like that of a bull hanging under it.

“You are worthless, you know that?” He uttered after shooting a loogie right on the other side of my scandalized face. I knew I was worthless, when he placed his legs on my shoulders and inched so close that his man-meat almost touched my quivering,thirsty lips. My ass developed the uncomfortable anal sensation which accompanies sexual incitement. I wanted a cock inside me, His cock.

“You know, cunt, you don’t always have a choice, so you’ll have to swallow some good quality piss, straight from the tap.”

At once I trembled, for I had never brought myself so low as to drink urine from my own body, let alone some homophobic bully.

But there was little I could do, and as I did it, my inner receptors relished it. From the foreskin of his girthy flaccid cock, emerged a yellow stream that struck my tongue. It didn’t taste pleasant, and it was particularly difficult to swallow without closing my mouth, but I could do it. I hated it, but the same I loved it, somehow, and it was evident from my cocklet that stood there unnoticed.

“Oh my god, dude. I can’t believe this. You drank it like a starving fucking camel, queer! Fuck, you’re much more pathetic than a normal human being can imagine. Fuck man, you’re so idiot. And you know what, it fucking makes me hard!!”

With that, the Man did away with his lower garments and laid back a little to expose his arsehole to me. Between two meaty butt-cheeks, and a dense mass of hair, his ass was similar to those I had seen people lick in the porn videos. I had never liked the act per se, but the feeling associated with it was the same as the others, dominance, submission, hierarchy.

And I believe by experience, that if the emotion entailed in the sexual acts is the same, it doesn’t take much time to progress from light to extreme practices. In the librarian’s room something similar happened.

“Hey, homo! C’mere and give my smelly ass a good wide lick.” I complied, placing my tongue on the rancid surface of the Adonis’ shithole. It was repulsive, disgusting and undeniably, arousing. He pressed me head into his butt and started smashing it harder and harder into the hole. “Yeah, prove to me that you literally suck ass, loser!”

My tongue began to invade deeper and touch the anal walls, which apparently drove the man crazy as his hand-thrusts became more powerful.
“Kiss it like a boyfriend’s lips, bitchboy!” It made me hornier than any boyfriend’s lips could ever do, as I licked and sucked and sniffed the manly arse, getting sexual pleasure from the feeling of subjugation it gave me.

His cock had attained a full erection by the time I was allowed to breathe clean, free air again. Not a millimetre less than seven inches, and as fat as a skinny man’s wrist, it mesmerized me. The aroma and energy a man-cock radiates is magnetic for non-man males like me. It become the sole duty of the servant to render the best possible service for the godly master’s manhood.

“You’re hungry for this cock, aren’t you?” He smirked at my poor, ass-aulted face.
“Yes, sir.” By this time my overtly desperate, dirty self had taken over completely, and every concern for modesty became secondary.

“Well, beg for it then, you sex-starved sissy.”
“Please let me suck your cock, sir.”
“Why, why do you want to suck my cock?”
“I love your cock.”
“Weren’t you intentionally watching me jerk off in the books section that day?”

“No, sir. That was accidental.” It was, honestly.
“Stay away from my cock then, you don’t deserve it.” This ignited the exasperation inside me, and I knew no limits then.
“Please, please give me that cock!”
“Tell me you watched me jack off by will.”
“Yes, sir, I wanted to see your big cock and hairy legs.”

“Now that’s some good confession, and guess what? It was recorded. Boom, queer, gonna get fucked now!” The shock of another serious defeat was momentarily shaking. But deep inside, I am a person who loves defeat, who loves to obey the victor, the master. My cock jerked itself.

The mighty librarian adjusted his position on his chair, took his legs off my shoulders and held my head on the tip of his cock like a fleshlight. Then began the throatfuck, with him mercilessly forcing my head down to the very base of the hot pole, keeping it there while his dickhead struck the back of my throat, and then repeating the process for what seemed like decades.

It pained me, occasional hard strikings to my sensitive throat, which made him grunt, also sent tremors to my heart. The air supply was meagre, and there were instants when I nearly passed out, but the man didn’t cease. It felt like he had an ocean of anger and passion for dominance whose waves never ended, they just kept coming with increasing vigour and destruction level.

My haplessness just gave him more power, and I became an empty-minded, pain-enduring suck-slut for this majestic man. My buccal fluids were all over his pubes and his balls were soaked in them. But he didn’t budge. He was getting his pleasure, that’s all he cared for.

At an unknown point in time, he stopped and stood up, with my hair clutched in his fist. I was lifted from the painful kneeling posture and was bent over the desk, with the penetrator standing behind me.

“Seems you want a sore hole, homo! Have some lube” He asked.

“No, sir!” I said with my manipulated voice.
“Well then, deal with the painal, fucker. I’m gonna rip you into two.” This utterance ended with his wet, slippery dickhead placed on my very delicate, very pristine, boyish boy-pussy.

What I remember after that is a continuous struggle to shriek out loud, but his palms pressed against my mouth to restrict any screams. His cock’s girth adjusted to the narrow anus with an enormous amount of physical suffering. The anal sphincter smoldered like a burning volcano, and added to that was the penetrator’s relentlessness.

He surely knew I was experiencing immense pain, yet he only wanted to increase it, by stretching the ass as much as he could, and going as deep as he could, aggressively hitting the guts that stood hurdles to his conquest. My asshole shivered in sheer pain for long, and then it began to accommodate the invader and pacify.

I did not realize when the continued banging began to stimulate me. The pain never ebbed away completely, but the fact that I was being bred by the bull like a cheap whore, and I was suffering for no fault, made the pain enjoyable. Each time the cock rubbed against the prostrate, my dick gave a jerk.

Then came the rut. Suddenly He shifted from steady, long strokes to deep quick strokes with a whole new level of energy. My stimulation reached a fever pitch, and within a minute I ejaculated on his desk, hands free.

As soon as the sexual state of mind subsided and a rational consciousness was restored, it felt bad. His cock and his grip on my face became intolerable and I made attempts to free myself. But he didn’t heed these petty petitions. He was inside me to nut, and he wouldn’t pull out before he nut.

This total domination that I experienced, set the premises for another arousal. Then he started groaning, grunting and following a series of super-hard strokes, came a stream of thick creamy jizz, and it went deep up in an attempt to impregnate me.

What followed wasn’t surprising at all. He pulled out, slapped me hard a couple of times, and then ordered me to leave.

“Get lost, faggot! Never show me that face again, here. If I see you here in the library again, the world shall see the REAL YOU in the library.”

I rapidly dressed myself, exhausted by the drama though I was, and with a sore asshole impeding smooth walking, I made my way to the door.

“Your membership is terminated. Consider the refundable amount to be your tribute to me, and get lost.”

That’s when I saw my cherry-buster for the last time. Before I could save his WhatsApp DP, he had blocked me.

I would say I was lucky, because my first sexual encounter was with a person who exactly liked to do what I, deep down, liked to receive. No wonder, I am yet to get lucky enough to meet a second person like him, who could show me my real place.

Remarks and comments related to the story are welcome at [email protected].

FIN