Smashwords

“When we were smoking up last night, Ian said some interesting things,” Lance said.

I instantly went cold and struggled to bring up coherent memories of last night, of what I could’ve possibly told him. Nothing was coming back to me. Lance’s arm around my shoulders now felt heavy and oppressive, like a yoke on cattle.

“Oh?” Ryan asked. It was even clearer now that this was a set-up, that they knew exactly what they were going to say and when.

What the fuck did I tell Lance last night? I knew I usually talk about sex when I’m high, but, surely, that’s not what was going to happen here and now.

“It seems,” Lance said, emphasizing his Southern drawl to draw out the moment, to keep me sweating in nervous agony, “that our boy here is a piss-drinker.”

I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the tears. A hot blush flared on my cheeks. That was my deepest, darkest secret, and I’d gone and told it to someone who was going to use it against me. I was surprised I hadn’t already been kicked out of the house — there was no way they’d let a piss-drinker live with them.

“Well, now that’s interesting,” Ryan said, with a little bit of a Southern drawl of his own. I heard a bit of teasing in his tone, but not disgust. I opened my eyes, terrified to face any of my brothers again, but forcing myself to do just that. “Tell us about it, Ian.”

I looked from brother to brother, trying to figure out where this was going. Then it hit me. They were going to make me piss all over myself. And knowing the humiliation that usually accompanies hazing, they were probably going to film it and show it to everyone. I’d have to not only leave the house, but probably also leave campus. I’d have to figure out how to explain to my parents why I’d wasted all their money and didn’t even stay a term.

“I’m waiting,” Ryan said, his voice suddenly full of authority, something I’d not heard from him before.

“I…” My sentence trailed off as I struggled to figure out what to tell and what to keep secret.

“It’s okay, brother,” Lance said with an oppressive squeeze of my shoulders. “You can trust us.”

I sighed and closed my eyes — I couldn’t look at them as I spilled the beans. I’d decided to just tell them the whole thing. “Piss really turns me on — the smell, the feel, the taste. I usually piss all over myself every morning before I shower and then jack off.”

Even though my eyes were closed, I knew they were judging me. I could feel it in the oppressive silence that had suddenly filled the room. When the silence continued, I opened my eyes and looked at everyone as they stared at me. Their expressions were unreadable, but I knew the night was going downhill from here.

Suddenly, Ryan chugged back the last of his beer and stood up. “You need another drink,” he said, his eyes boring into me.

I glanced at my cup. “I’ve still got some.”

“I wasn’t talking about beer,” he said. He grabbed his fly and drew the zipper down. Reaching inside, he wrenched out his thick, heavy cock, and dangled it into his cup. A second later, the heavy sound of piss striking plastic filled the room.

Smashwords

Smashwords

Slowly, I began angling my hard, stiff cock toward my face. The fountain of piss turned into an arc, making its way up my torso, making more of me wet with my hot, fetid piss. Some of it splashed on my chin — I clamped my mouth shut, but continued moving that golden arch toward my face.

My bladder showed no sign of emptying — it still burned with the sensation of being far too full. Good, because I wasn’t ready for this to end.

And, finally, my piss landed on my face, pounding against my mouth, demanding that my lips open and I taste my golden nectar, straight from the tap. But I couldn’t bring myself to open my lips and taste what I so badly wanted to taste — some part of me was still rebelling, some part that wasn’t ready to admit that I might be into far dirtier and kinkier sex than I ever imagined.

But I had to open my mouth — I didn’t know how long it would take for me to work up to pissing on myself again, so I had to do it now or else I’d regret it for weeks. I just had to open them a little bit, let a few drops splash in, that was all…

I opened my mouth and my stream poured right in. My hot, salty, tangy piss flooded my mouth, spilling out the sides. I continued to let my piss fill my mouth, but I still refused to swallow. I think some part of me knew that if I swallowed, there was no turning back. But why was I doing this? I had to keep asking myself that — I was doing this because I wanted to experience what I saw online. If I was going to do that, I had to swallow it down.

I shut my eyes tight — I have no idea why — and swallowed what was in my mouth. My piss poured down my throat and sloshed into my stomach. That was … not bad. Actually, it was pretty hot.

I opened my mouth again, let it fill up, and swallowed down another mouthful. And I did it one more time before my bladder finally started to approach empty. My arc of sparkling golden pleasure shrank, hitting only my abs, and then it sputtered out, sending a few last drops rolling out of my slit and down the shaft of my cock.

Smashwords

Smashwords

Some time later — I have no idea how much time had passed — I woke with a groan. I jolted, suddenly remembering what had happened. Fuck, my head hurt. I opened my eyes, blinking several times against the harsh lighting.

Was I in the … men’s room?

I tried to bring my hand to my head, to see if I was bleeding, but I couldn’t move my hand more than an inch or two. I looked over and it took a moment to understand what I was seeing. There was rope circled around my wrist, and the other end of it was tied to one of the heavy pipes above the trough urinal.

I looked to my other hand and found it was tied just the same. My feet, too, were tied up, one tied to a stall wall and the other tied to the bottom of a sink.

And I was naked.

And I was sitting in the urinal trough.

“Whuh thu fhu?” I said. What? Through the pain that still flooded my head, I felt something strange … straps tied around my head and in my mouth was a metal … thing … to keep my mouth wide open.

The panic that had been building suddenly boiled over. I struggled against the ropes and screamed. What the fuck was going on? Did that troll do this to me? Fuck, I had to get out of there. I had to go to the cops and get the fucker arrested. I had to—

“Well … well … well…” I heard a voice say. I realized it was the troll who’d decked me, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. Slow, heavy footsteps echoed through the men’s room and I saw — what was his name … Brent? — come around the stalls toward me. “Someone’s awake.”

New rage surged through me. Once I got free of these ropes, I’d kill the motherfucker. I struggled against them, hoping one of them — just one of them — was loose enough for me to squeeze my hand out. If I could get one hand free, I’d be able to fight him off and free myself.

Brent sauntered closer, seemingly unafraid and uncaring of the world of pain I was about to inflict on him … if I could only get free. Instead, he reached for the fly of his jeans and opened it up, letting his thick cock flop out. Though it was huge, I was still disgusted because I don’t do grandpa-dick … and the ass-wipe seemed to take delight in my disgust.

If he forced me to suck it, I’d bite it off and spit it out. He’d be sorry he ever messed with me. Then I realized I still had this … thing in my mouth and couldn’t close my jaw. My fear came rushing back as I realized how truly helpless I was. I struggled against the ropes some more, but I still couldn’t gain any space to wriggle my hands or feet out.

Brent came to a stop a foot in front of me, his cock dangling right in front of my face. I looked at it and then up at him. He had a hard glint in his eye — and it terrified me. What the fuck was he going to do? And how the fuck did he get me in here and tied up without anybody seeing? What did he think he was going to do? Rape me and then expect to get away with it?

And then I felt something hot splash on my face. I looked back at his dick and — oh, fuck — piss was streaming out of it and hitting me in the face. I closed me eyes and turned away, but he still aimed his hot stream at my face. It ran down my cheeks and some of it entered my mouth — and because of this, this fucking thing in my mouth, I couldn’t seal my lips. I tasted his salty, tangy piss. God, it was disgusting.

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Smashwords

I hid behind the shelves in the library, pretending to be searching for something. It was late — the library was almost closed — and I’d been wasting the last half hour just lingering around, waiting for the right moment. Tonight was going to be the night. I’d been planning this for weeks and building up my courage to carry it out — and if I didn’t do it now, I might never do it.

Tonight I was going to expose the homophobic bully for the fag he is. Joel had been terrorizing me and half the other gay guys here at college. He’d been a regular topic during our Friday Night Bitch Sessions at our Queer Alliance meetings — we all longed to put him in his place, but didn’t know how.

But I figured it out. We suspected Joel was a closeted gay; there was just something about him that set off the gaydar of half the Alliance guys. I just had to catch him doing something gay — even if it meant forcing him into it — and film it so I could hold it against him. And here, in the quiet library near the end of a Thursday night, I was all set to make my move.

Joel regularly studied in the back of the library — known as The Annex — which was a regular site for campus cruising. I’ve given my share of blowjobs in the bathroom just on the other side of this bookcase. Joel wasn’t fooling anybody.

I heard the scrape of a chair, followed by heavy footsteps. I glanced through the books and saw Joel walking to the men’s room, already undoing his fly before he even entered. I sized him up — if he weren’t so homophobic, he’d be one hot fucker. He was tall, at least six feet, and built like a football player, with short dark hair and dark, piercing eyes.

The men’s room door clattered as he went in and it closed behind him. I’d already set up a spy cam in the stall, ready for this to happen. I’d been seducing him the whole evening, wandering through the books, looking like I was loitering, waiting for something or someone. But I made sure to never let him see my face — because then the plan would collapse. He knew me. He hated me. The hope was he’d see a skinny twink wandering the shelves, likely cruising, and eventually make his way to the men’s room in the hope that the twink would join him.

I quickly hurried around the bookcase and to the bathroom. I laid my hands on the door and listened for any noises — it was silent. I pushed my way in and stood inside the door, letting it clatter closed behind me. This bathroom held one stall and one urinal, side by side. I spied Joel’s sneakers — he was in the stall, sitting on the toilet.

I unzipped and walked to the urinal. I stood there, not pissing, in total silence. I wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t here to use the bathroom.

Joel coughed — it sounded forced. I knew some guys used this as a signal, so I coughed back. Then Joel shuffled in the stall and I heard him undo the latch, followed by the squeak of the door as it swung open a few inches.

Without putting my cock away, I walked around to the stall door and pushed it open. Joel was sitting on the crapper, with his hand around his surprisingly long and thick cock. He was stroking it already. His gaze started at my crotch and trailed upward, heavy with lust, until it reached my face.

His eyes widened and he stood up, pulling up his pants.

“What the fuck, Brian?” he said. “I was in the middle of something — you can’t just barge in on a guy when he’s on the shitter!”

I stepped closer to him and closed the stall door behind me, locking it. My heart was racing and my body was tensing for a beating, but I couldn’t back down now. “I know you want something,” I told him in a whisper, “something I can give you.”

And without waiting for him to even react, I fell to my knees in front of him and undid his jeans. He let me open his fly, he let me reach in and grab his cock, and he let me put my mouth on it. Oh, yeah, this guy’s gay.

I stretched my mouth wide to fit it all in me and I sucked on it like a lollipop. He tasted sweaty, like he didn’t shower after a workout at the gym, but I fucking loved it. I like my men dirty and sweaty and masculine. I fondled his balls in my hand, rolling them between my fingers, tugging on the sac, driving him wild.

Joel moaned, but quickly shut his mouth. He sat back down on the toilet and I moved a little closer to him, resting my arms on his muscular thighs. He put his hand on my head and grabbed my hair, forcing me to bob up and down at the pace he wanted.

“That’s good,” Joel muttered, his voice flooded with obvious desire. “Fucking take it, bitch.”

An odd feeling rushed through me — I was enjoying this. I was no longer doing this to take down Joel, to take one for the team. No, I was somehow turned on by sucking off this guy that’s been so brutally mean to me and my closest friends.

Suddenly — far too soon — he held my head in place, stopped me from bobbing up and down on his dick. Please don’t come, please don’t come, please don’t come, I kept pleading in my head. If he shot his load, this would be over before it started and it would be the most disappointing hook-up I’ve ever had. My mind spun with the fact that I wanted a hook-up with Joel to last longer, but there was just something about this encounter that had instantly turned me on.

Sure enough, his cock suddenly pulsed and my mouth filled with his hot — wait … fuck … this wasn’t come — this was piss! The douchebag was pissing in my mouth.

I tried to pull my head away from him, but he held me firm in place. “Drink it, bitch. Swallow it all,” he commanded.

Smashwords