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My Body Different


Before all of this happened, I really knew my body, and I mean knew it. In fact you could call me the world's top expert in it's valleys and curves, it's hairs and textures. I knew when a muscle had been even slightly overused, and when it was time to use conditioner on the tufts of hair under my arms. And of course I knew my cock best of all...knew the exact amount of pressure on the head that would breach the pleasure-pain boundary, knew exactly when to stop pumping to hold off cuming, knew how to use the internal plumbing to piss on command and to stop equally fast. That was then. Now, I am an explorer. On those rare occasions when he allows me the freedom to use my finger as a probe, I constantly make new discoveries. Take this morning, when I awoke to find my right arm shackle removed. A breeze blew from over the garden wall, and there was a scent of new blooms in the air, roses perhaps. He likes roses, I knew. I had felt their thorns. Knowing my time would be short, I immediately started a journey, tracing my finger along my ribs...feeling each one of them protrude, as distinct as a mountain range. In my previous life I had been quite muscular, constantly turning heads at the gym. Now my bones showed. Before I got any further in my exploration, my forearm brushed against something cold and my rib-search was distracted. It was metal, about the size of a golf ball, and open, like...like, yes it was a eye-bolt, surgical steel I guessed as I traced its smooth two-inch shaft downward until it ended at the skin over my right hip. I had no memory of the implant being done, but since he kept me drugged so much of the time that wasn't a surprise. My touch told me the skin had healed smoothly around the bolt, with little scar tissue. I could imagine how it looked, shiny against my unnaturally tanned skin, robotic and mechanical. Slavelike. I couldn't see it, or anything else for that matter, and before I could stretch my arm across to the other side, to my other hip, to seek a possible eye-bolt's left-side companion, the drugs overtook me again and I was back in the mental darkness. I know he plays with me during the darkness. But sometimes the mix of drugs is off just a bit...a little too much of one chemical or too little of another, and when that happens I retain a faint memory of events. At those times I am almost always grateful for the drugs that are working. Last week was one such time. I was tied spread-eagle on the metal table in his garden, the leather and metal restraints had stretched me so tightly I had no room to move, other than shaking my head side to side. My legs were pulled especially wide and lifted up in the air, telling me some ass play was going to occur. I thought I knew my ass before him, but he has taught me so much! I thought I had stretched my sphincter wide, playing with sex-partners and their big toys and fists. But he had introduced me to an entire new world. He loved loosening me up so much that he could use his foot on me, no, make that "in" me. In the beginning he had to work up to it, stretching me with dildos and but-plugs of increasing size, then working his toes in one by one until the entire end of his foot would slide in. Now he's got me adjusted so he starts with the entire end of the foot and in a short period of time, he is able to insert it all...with his leg sticking out of my ass and his toes playing with my prostate. He has told me his eventual goal is to have both feet in me, though even after all I've been through I have trouble picturing it. This time the drug mix was off enough that I could feel him in the room, moving around the table, attaching electric clips to my elongated, almost feminine nipples, using some clothes pins on the tender skin on either side of my armpits. He had already done my daily enema cleaning that day, so I was empty and ready. The thick leather and steel mask he had welded to me kept out all of the light and most of the sound, the clip-on eye pieces were almost never taken off, and then only in very dim light. He didn't want me blind, just blinded. The mouth piece had a tube that reached far enough inside to reach the back of my throat. All of my breathing took place through two small nose holes in the mask. The tube allowed him to piss directly into my mouth when he relieved himself. At first he had taken only little squirts into the tube, to let me adjust to the taste and the process. But now it was several times a day. I was his urinal. Amazingly, I had become addicted to it and every now and then he would piss into a toilet, letting me hear it and getting off on my moans of yearning. Sometimes he would collect my piss and feed it back to me, once doing so for two full days, making me into a piss recycling machine. As I became aware of him moving around the room, I felt something move against my stretched left leg. Was he caressing me? More movement, cool and rough, as if he was rubbing a hairy leg against me. But in my minds eye I couldn't picture a way for his leg to be in that position. I felt him insert a familiar appliance into my hole, a metal spreading device that doctors used to examine the insides of people. He had used it on me so often I wasn't even a little alarmed when he manipulated it so my hole was wide open...a good three inch cavern opening into my body. Now the odd movement was pushing up against my balls, sliding against them as if he had cooled his hand with ice before touching me. After my initial training weeks, he almost never talked in my presence, letting me know what he wanted by brute force. Grabbing my head and pulling it to his crotch, shoving me to my knees or roughly twisting my arm behind me. But now he spoke...he must have inserted a tiny ipod-like speaker inside the mask because his voice filled my world, a deep, completely masculine sound that rumbled against my eardrums. My cock twitched in hearing it. "It's time you learned a new skill, cuntboi," he told me. "I want you to meet my friend slither." The touching feeling then moved to the hole between my legs as he urged the snake inside me. His voice tried to calm me but it didn't work. I felt the serpent touch my bowels and passed out.

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Tennis Coach Has Fuzzy Balls


That's from an expression that tennis players play with fuzzy balls.Cause we do, the yellow ones we hit with the racket and our own.I play tennis on the Fresh-Soph team at school. Our coach is Coach Tack, but he doesn't do much. Coach Steve does most of the instruction. He's in college and is coaching us for a class in coaching I guess.Anyway we can call him Steve or Coach Steve either one.So I am challenging the number one Sophomore player so I can take his spot at number one.In the past he has always beaten me, last year too, so I never had the number 1 spot.I wanted it bad.

It was over 90 degrees and I won the first set.Well I had beaten him before in the first set, but he always came back.And he did this time to in the second set.So I decided to try something different in the third set.I decided that when I was serving to not lose.Instead of trying to hit winners, I was just gonna hit the ball back, every ball back.Well this strategy was working because it was 6 to 6 and were were going to a third set tiebreaker.By now we had played 90 minutes straight and it was hot.Most of the other guys were watching us, cause they all finished and we were having a great game.A few guys left.My strategy of just hitting the balls back was working but was making very long points.

In the tiebreaker we got to 10 all and I fell down.I sort of almost passed out.I don't remember exactly what happened but they carried me, I think, back to the gym and laid me down on the floor with some towels or something for a pillow.Coach Steve said take off his shirt.I was out of it and wondered if they were gonna strip me naked or something.It didn't really make sense, but as I said I was out of it.But all they did was take off my shirt, then put cold towels over my face and chest.Then Coach tack came in with ice packs and put them in my armpits.Shit that was cold.They also make me drink some cold Gatorade.

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Jadyn And Kevin Find Each Other


NOTE: This story is fiction & if you are offended by this content you should not be on this site and if this is illigal were you live please leave I am not responsible for what you do! do not read if you are under 18!!

Jadyn's description- Jadyn about 5'5" 13 in 8th grade just came out at school

This was my first day out in school

As I walk through the hallways of the crowded jr.high I feel lessinvisable then other times but i hate tihs attention. No one gives me a second look except for gossiping assholes or obnxious assholes who throw in there unwanted comments as im deep in thought. As I pack up my book's to leave the building i dread coming to each and every morning at 7:30. I walk past the hottestout gay guy I could ever lay my eyes on. With his nice body & his tight ass jeans he doesnt even look at me . I wish that could be me but im just this average lookinggay guy that hasn't had a boyfriend ever. I long for love sex & whatever elsecomes with a relationship but how would i know?....I dont.

After school on my way home this really hot kid comes up to me. I recognize him from lunch.

"Hey im kevin Whats up........ I heard you were...."he pauses "Yes I am I said" "Oh cool well if you promise to not tell anybody i can tell you a secret" "yea what would that be" I asked with a grin hudge grin on my face

I knew what was coming and i wasnt complaining "well i--i--im--im gay" he mutters out "Thats cool" I said with interest

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Weekend Pass To Gelnhausen


Based on real life experience in Germany, this is a story of sex between adult male members of the MILITARY.For some of you who might have been stationed in Germany during the fifties or sixties, some of this may sound familiar. All legal disclaimers apply. If this topic offends you, do not read any further; and ask yourself why you are at this site.

If you are under the age of 18 (21 in some areas) and too young to be reading such material or if you are in a locale or country where it is not legal to read such material then please leave immediately and come back when it is legal for you to do so. We'll be glad to have you back.

The story is in no way meant to disrespect, demean, discredit or dishonor the men serving in uniform. On the contrary, the author has the greatest respect and admiration for our men in the military and it is the author's belief that men should be allowed to serve their country honorably, protecting all freedoms, including their own freedom to be who they are.

If you meet the criteria then read on, enjoy, and kindly let me know what you think. On the sites that provide for you to rate the stories or leave comments, I value your thoughts and opinion; I would also like to hear from you personally. Personal stories and accounts of your own similar experiences are always welcome.Contact me at Peterbilt222@hotmail.com

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Gothic Igloo


The Gothic Igloo

by

Little Dan

The helicopter hovered over the frozen plateau.There they were.The people I had discovered yesterday.I snapped away with my camera.Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.

"Go down a little, Mike," I urged my friend and pilot, Mike Kelley.

"Okay, Walter," he said, and we descended another hundred feet.Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.

Damn it. This was really exciting.If I was correct, I had discovered a whole new tribe of Northern people.They looked nothing like the Inuits, the Eskimos.The Inuit people were short and chubby and Mongol.These people were taller and more slender, and they seemed Caucasian.

We got nearer and nearer to them.There were about five of them.They each seemed to be fishing through a different hole in the ice.They were now conscious of the copter and began to look up, shielding their eyes from the glare of the sun.One of them raised his arm and waved. My heart leapt in my chest.I opened the door of the copter and leaned out and wildly waved back.

This was so exciting.The discovery of a lifetime.There would be a book in this.All my fellow anthropologists would be green with jealousy, when I published my findings.I had to find out more about these people.I had to get to know them.I needed to live with them.

In my mind I could already see the book jacket of my new scholarly best seller, `The Lost Tribe," by Dr. Walter Annenson.Now the whole world would know me.I would no longer just be Dr. Walter Annenson, obscure professor of Anthropology at Vandercliff University, though I was head of the department.

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Last Year At Uni


As usual, all the usual disclaimers apply guys. Enjoy yourselves.

Thanks for all the positive feedback from everyone. I have had so many emails its hard to keep up. Keep them coming and let me know if you enjoy this story guys.

Last Year In Uni

The summer between my second and third year of university, my dad had made me go to work with him on the construction site. I can't lie, I hated it with a passion, but I desperately needed the cash, and as much as the job sucked, the hard work gave me a great body and when the weather was just right, I also got a fantastic tan. I had just spent 2 long years studying business management, and I have to admit, that since I left high school, I had let myself go a little. Before I came out to work on the site, I had gained a bit of a beer belly, but after 6 weeks of lugging timber, and carrying loads of cement, my body was in the best shape it had ever been. In place of my beer gut sat a hard six pack. My leg muscles had toned up and my arms were as big as they could ever be. Yes, I hated the job, but I loved what it had done to my body and my confidence.

The summer came and went, and the work was always pouring in. It kept me busy and I made a decent amount of money but I was so happy when the time came to go back to uni. I missed my classes, I missed my friends, and I missed the laid back party lifestyle I had become accustomed to. I knew that after a few days, my routine of 5am starts and early nights would be a thing of the past, but I promised myself that I would join a gym and try to maintain the new body I had acquired over the summer.

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Superman And Katies Adult Bookstore


The police were busily scanning the area for the notorious cashier robber that has been succeeding in disappearing after every heist somehow, even from Superman. It's suspected he has managed to escape from view thru a use of lead covering which Superman finds hard to penetrate with his xray vision. Somehow he plans his robberies after burying a small lead type escape portal from which he hides until the coast is clear. So far no one has been able to prove it. Superman thought it would be a good idea to foot walk the area and notify the impending neighborhood busineses that the robber was seeming to travel towards this direction next. After notifying the local drug store he went around the corner and came across a small worn out building called KATIE'S ADULT BOOK STORE. He went inside and the door was rigged with a ringing bell, but nobody was inside except a balding cashier man slumped down appearing to read an old newspaper. Superman cleared his throat and said to the cashier, "Excuse me, but could I have your attention please." The old man looked up and was wearing bi-focal glasses. He looked curious, winced at Superman and layed his paper folded. "Can I help you", he asked. "Yes," Superman went on, "I'm here to warn you of a notorious robber that may be in the area soon and please be aware of it to lock your business with tight security." "Oh, we dont keep much money around here," said the old man. "Our sales are slow and we probably wont stay open for business for more than a year before we sell this place. I'm not worried." "Oh," said Superman who was standing right next to the old man within good viewing range and holding his left hand steady on the counter while proping his left foot across th right. Thereby exposing the fact that he was indeed, A SUPERMAN. The old man who had worked at this adult book store was well aware of the properties of manhood. He had noticed Superman was showing quite a crotch full of radiant manhood that seemed almost ripe for awareness. Although Superman was getting ready to excuse himself and walk out the door, the old man got an idea. A very quick, mischevious idea to input a very boring afternoon. The room itself was full of x-rated books and x-rated gadgets filling the tables full of technology gone to waste. It seems the Internet systems had take a good deal of business away on the convenient online catalogs. Everyone was recieving shipment orders rather than being seen in an adult book store. It was time for a bit of naughty fun with Superman. As Superman walked away heading for the door, the old man called out, "Just one minute. Could I interest you in a delightful gadget, Superman?" Superman stopped and looked about, but shrugged he was not interested. Too bad for Superman though, cause he happened to stop near a remote controlled device that could be operated from where the old man was standing behind the register. Standing much too close to the table with the operating device of a sex invention called THE SUPER SUCKER. The old man held the remote and clicked it on. Superman became slightly alarmed at the machine for turning itself on next to him and looked down at it with confusion. The machine began to move in a vibrating motion towards him. He could feel the opening of the device force itself to heave a heavy suction power that mocked a working vacuum cleaner. and this thing was noisy which made it seem more frightening. The machine was quick, though, and it began to move very close, very quick. It moved so close the spout removed itself from the bulk of the machine and shot out grabbing onto Superman's bulge in his crotch. Superman's first thought was, YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. This is a kids toy gone amuck. However, the old man had other plans and he was way ahead of Superman. With the slight move of the dial on his remote control box, the suction unit drew a much more powerful force of suction. It was almost stimulating now, and just before Superman could lay his strong masculine hand on it, the suction tube swallowed the tip of his cock thru the shorts. Slowly digesting it by a quarter of an inch with each gulp. Working it's way to what seemed like a mission. Superman was still convinced this was a kids toy, but he watched it with a kind of pity as it drew in his cock bulge little by little. Then he noticed his dick was becoming thicker in circumference as it made it's journey inside the hungry suctioning tube going reluctantly in deeper and deeper. The machine was not giving up. Unknowing to Superman, this machine was well thought out by it's inventors. It was indeed built for a reason. TO SUCK DICK MEAT. And that's all it was made to do, and to do it with unrelenting powerful strokes. Unlike the first few sucking motions the final remaining ones were more severe. It clasped his dick full throttle as it began to suck and stroke in soft agonizing motion. While it was conducting this maneuver, the vacuum pak force kept a steady pace to make sure there was no chance for a drop or escape. Since there was nothing to hold onto and Superman was standing in the middle of the aisle, his hands were held motionless to his sides, but his knees were feeling shakey. The old man in the meantime went to the entrance door and locked it making sure Superman did not release his bonds at the same time. Superman was feeling mystified that such a machine could develop such a sensation as it was doing. The sucking power alone was mesmerizing. This little machine was actually sucking him off right thru his shorts and not doing a bad job. It also had an interior rib design that drew attention by forcing a consistent rubbing over his cockhead with a continual agonizing growl of aching comfort. All this while the sucking force remained cool and steady. He gazed slightly towards the old man who was standing some distance away, but could be seen with undeniable satisfaction in his face. Not laughing, but smiling unlike he was doing upon entering the building. The machine began a steady slurping noise that had occurred over a small period of time. Perhaps it was the lubrication happening inside his shorts. The open mouth area of the sucking mechanism seemed to be gratified on it's magnificent performance at doing what it does best. Pleasing and making a stud man go crazy. It's movement kept a steady rhythm of ongoing maddening sucking that started to make Superman's forehead catch fire with droplets of sweat beads. It seemed oblivious to the fact it had a good deal of fabric to deal with, but on the other hand, seemed victorious that such fabric could not keep it's mouth from doing it's chore engulfing the hardened dick meat over and over again. This time Superman could feel his neck muscles stiffen and his mouth begin to widen with hesitation that the machine was aiming for one thing only. To make this muscleman CUM entirely in his shorts. And probably make a run for it's money by devouring what it could to siphon out thru the fabric what the shorts could not contain. It's impending eagerness seemed to defy rationality in that it's capabilities seemed to be tireless in it's search for glory. Suddenly Superman found his hands want to grab ahold of something, but still couldnt. So he raised them up from his sidesa bit as the machine whizzing in noisy capture began deep throating The Man of Steel viciously. He closed his eyes and could feel sweat pour from his eyebrow as the sucking machine kept it's vigil of nonstop continuous sucking motion wrapping itself with satisfaction like a cobra devouring a huge rat. Sucking and sucking away with spurts and slobs, his dickmeat seemed to wanna bust out of it's shell in order to find release into the suctioning unit hole bringing to it unequivical helpless pleasure of SEX. It was outrageous, and Superman could no longer hold his legs steady, but they were involuntarily bending knees inward and shaking with the chill down his spine of growing pleasure. The machine kept sucking and sucking and his tongue made it's debut to begin to hang straight outward as the steady sucking power kept going on and on over the bulk of his cock. Superman started to heave deep sighs now and bent over slightly to alleviate them. Unlike his conscious self he noticed he was beginning to do things he would never do. His sweating face was grimacing and he could feel a wary smile journey itself to it's sides. His eyeballs were traveling in a direction he could swear was becoming crosseyed. Everything was seeming to double in the room. The old man became five old men moving back and forth. His huge chest muscles began to tense with a force that drove his tits to feel like tacs. But most of all, his thighs were like mush. No longer capable of holding him in a dignified manner while the Super Sucker was ending it's course with it's final suctioning power. But it stopped, briefly, while the motor was still going and it picked up the pace once again and devoured and encompassed Superman's entire dickwad holding him steady as the suctioning vacuum drew it's last strong breath. His eyeballs hit each other in the most farfetched crosseyed fashion as his tongue stretched out in sweat and agony as the Super Sucker Machine full throttled it's devouring mechanism to piston suck all the cum juice flow Superman could muster. AND THERE WAS ALOT!! His black curly head spasmed in heavy held back convulsions and sweat dripped everywhere around his face. His huge chest went the entire distance of movement as his legs shook with agonizing vigor. The machine took drop after drop right thru Superman's shorts and kept sucking slowly til he looked up at the ceiling lights and was ready to collapse. The machine released him and he stumbled towards the door, unlocking it, and fell face first into the parking lot dirt with his butt in the air. The old man stood and watched and nodded his head. "Tsk, tsk." The "We are closed" sign was posted, and Superman was left in the dirt with a giant sized grin. Eyes still crossed.

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