I’d moved to L.A last year, and although my dream job at a non-profit against homelessness was everything I wanted it to be, there was one thing very wrong with it: the salary. Now, I knew L.A. was expensive. But I didn’t know it was that expensive. The irony that I would spend my days fighting for people on the streets, before trekking back to the only shithole I could afford and shared with two crackheads was almost funny, if it didn’t make me want to quit it all and move back home, which was not an option.
And then, Mark happened. He was a nice guy. Older, a lawyer with a dry laugh, he lived in the hills, in a nice compact house with a small pool in the back and a sauna. Before long, I was spending every weekend there, and when Mark dropped me off at my apartment and insisted on going up, he was so horrified by what he saw, he basically told me to move in with him, at least so I could save up and get a promotion. I didn’t love Mark, I don’t think, and he didn’t love me. But I was a good houseguest, respectful, and Mark got some company. He was a good-looking guy too, hairless and slim, toned by the gym and a strict diet, with a nice face and horn-rimmed glasses. We had sex about once a week, usually missionary, and if then. Usually, a quick blowjob was enough. It was almost sweet: he wasn’t even my sugar daddy, would’ve never bought me anything extravagant, and I had no intention on quitting my job. We just worked. And thank God we did. Because there was no sign our temporary arrangement was going to end: after the fires, rent in the city was even worse than when I got here, and my job flatly informed us there’d be no raise in the immediate future.
Today had been a long day at work. I’d been preparing applications for Section 8 all day, and the city officials had all but laughed in my face when I filed them. There was no money, nowhere. Then, I had to deal with overcrowded shelters, shuffling the decks to find new beds. By the time I drove home, all I could dream of was a sauna, a dairy-free ice-cream -one of Mark’s few indulgences- and an early night. But when I turned the handle, I heard loud laughter. I frowned. That wasn’t normal. Mark never had friends over. In fact, that was a big part of my being here. When I got to the tasteful living room, I saw Mark, slapping his thigh, his crisp monogramed white shirt cuffed up, and another man on the couch.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey,” Mark said, “Ellis, this is Brad. Brad’s an old college friend of mine. Brad, Ellis.”
I waved. Brad looked nothing like Mark. Even sitting down, he was tall, imposing, maybe 6’3. He looked muscular, but heavy, like a football coach who let himself go. He was blond, with cropped hair and stubble, and grinned at me. His blue eyes twinkled. His feet were kicked up on the coffee table, and he’d brought a six pack, and was drinking a can without a coaster, the condensation dripping on the varnished wood.
At Mark’s invitation, I sat down with the two men. Brad asked us how we met. There was a mocking tone to everything he said, which I didn’t like. When Mark said an app, which meant Grindr, Brad chuckled, asking oh yeah?, as if he knew something dirty about us that we didn’t.
“So, do you just hang out here all day?” Brad asked, ripping another can. “Must be nice.”
I tried not to react. Maybe this was just his sense of humor. And he wouldn’t be the first to think it.
“No, I work downtown. Homelessness advocate,” I said, proudly.
“Gotcha. Lots of single moms?”
“I mean, yeah.”
“Nice,” he said, “hey, if any of them look like they can suck a mean dick, send them my way. I’ll put a roof over their heads as long as they put a mouth around my balls.”
He laughed to himself loudly as I frowned. Even Mark looked a little uncomfortable, but before he could change the subject, Brad sat up, a devilish grin on his face.
“Hey, tell me the truth, is that why they hired you? So you could teach them how to get a house the old fashion way?”
He poked his tongue inside his cheek, mimicking a blowjob. I turned red, and grumbled that I was going to turn on the sauna. I couldn’t believe Mark was letting Brad talk to me like that. But then, as I spotted a bourbon bottle I could’ve sworn he’d never touched, and was now almost empty, I guess Mark was cutting loose.
As I turned the sauna on, and returned inside, I thought about icily announcing I’d had a headache, and I was going to lie down. But then, a fleeting thought I knew all too well flitted in my brain. What if Mark got mad at me for that? And what if he thought that he’d like his own space after letting me crash here for months? So I decided to be a good sport, and went back to the living room. In fact, I helped myself to one of Brad’s beer when I got down, and sat down on the rug, between Mark’s knees. I stared at Brad as I did. That’s right motherfucker, I wanted to say, that’s where I do a lot of my work. And guess what, your buddy’s getting some great head.
“So, what brings you to town?” I asked.
“Road trip,” Brad said. “My whore wife left me for some cop, so I’m taking some time to get it out of my system and also burn through her 401k. Bitch won’t even know what hit her.”
My eyes widened. I couldn’t look back at Mark without making it obvious I disapproved of Brad, but I’d caught a funny glint in Mark’s eye when I got back in the room. There was something about Brad he found entertaining. Maybe because he was such a caricature of a man Mark was definitely not. Mark was effete, almost delicate. This man looked like he belonged in the woods, ready to pillage a nearby village and grab his new wife by the hair.
“Oh, I’ve been making up for lost time,” Brad said. “Five years, no blowjob. Not once. This week, I don’t even know. Ten? Fifteen? You go into one of those shitty towns, you flash a bit of cash, hey, these girls, they get to their knees quick.”
For what felt like hours, Brad described his sexual prowesses. He told us he though only half of them were legal, that he found them outside bars or liquor stores. That he liked holding their noses when he forced their heads down his shaft, mimicking the gesture. They all liked it, he said, that’s the thing about sluts. They want to be treated that way. Some he fucked behind dumpsters, some in his car, some in his motel room. When he was done, he slapped a twenty in their hands. All they were worth. If they wanted more, they could go again, but he needed more stimulation. Anal. Filming. Bringing a friend. He got a video to show us, and I went to the kitchen as he played it, rinsing out his cans. He barked at me to bring some more from the fridge. I heard him say to Mark he should buy me a little French maid’s outfit. As I opened the fridge, I heard sloppy, viscous noises from Brad’s tinny phone, and Brad’s heavy sighs. Good girl, he moaned. You’re a good little slut for daddy, aren’t you. Little piece of trash. Oh, you’re making me feel so good. He skipped ahead to the orgasm. The girl sounded like she was drowning. Brad was laughing, his greasy, mocking laugh, telling her to clean his dick off. And then, throwing her another bill.
“And that’s when you hit them with the ten,” he said, roaring with laughter. “What’s she gonna do? Tell her dad?”
I shuddered as I came back with the drinks. It was insane to me that Mark wasn’t responding. He was wasted, that much was clear. He didn’t even say anything when Brad ordered pizza, and wiped his hands on the pillow after he’d wolfed down a whole extra large. Mark also let slip that Brad was staying the night before leaving tomorrow morning. He wanted to hit up Joshua Tree. I’d clenched my jaw at the fact that there was no point where Brad would leave and I’d finally get my peace back, but also felt reassured that come tomorrow, Brad would be out of my life. And seeing how much he was drinking, hopefully he’d wrap himself around a tree and be out of his life as well. The worst part was when he talked about sex. He kept remembering girls he’d fucked, and telling us all about them. And as he did, he kept readjusting his crotch. I realized with horror he was hard.
Thankfully, by the time 10 P.M struck, Mark needed to be put to bed. But as I guided him to the bedroom, delighted for the opportunity to call it a night, Mark said I should have my sauna.
“Wait, you have a sauna,” Brad asked. “Sick!”
“Oh,” I said. I desperately did not want to have a sauna with Brad. No way. But as I looked at Mark, his glazed eyes told me he wasn’t going to be any help in coming up with a lie, like the fact that the sauna was too small for two, which it practically was. Miraculously, Brad seemed to understand that he was getting a bit too comfortable.
“Actually,” he said, scratching his stomach, revealing a slice of hairy gut, “you go ahead. Maybe I’ll do it in the morning.”
Reassured and thankful, I explained to him how to turn it on, and led him to his bedroom on the other end of the house. Relieved, I went outside, stripped in the cool night air, grabbed a towel, and got in the sauna. It was ferociously hot, and I curled up with glee. Finally. Peace. Until I heard the handle jangle. It was Brad. I scrambled, covering myself up with my towel under his mocking eyes. Fuck. That asshole. He wanted to catch me off guard.
“Actually,” he said, “I think I need to sweat that booze out. Fuck.”
I cowered in the corned, trying to mask my fury. The sauna was big enough for the two of, and I was perched on the higher bench as he settled on the lower. Still, it was uncomfortably close. I could practically graze his shoulder with my toe. For a while, we sat in silence, and I looked at our reflections in the glass door. Brad was a lot more muscular than I thought. His chest was massive and hairy, barrel-like, with firm pecs sitting proudly. His stomach was tauter and firmer than I expected, with biceps like tree trunks and thick thighs to match. His arms were covered in tattoos, tribals and American flags. He started sweating almost immediately, his body glistening in the red light.
“Oh wait,” he said, opening the glass door before shutting it, retrieving something from the outside. He handed me a drink, whiskey, from the smell, with lots of ice. I frowned.
“I know I was a little much in there,” he said. “You know, I’m just playing. I made almost all that shit up.”
I cocked my head to the side. His tone of voice was less mocking, practically sincere.
“You know, Mark, he used to live through me in college, all the crazy, freaky shit I did. I thought hey, let me give him a good laugh. I need it”
He raised his glass, and I clinked it against mine. Fine. Now that he’d dropped the act, there as a kindness to his broad face, with his beard speckled with gray. I’d started sweating too, and went silent. The drink hit, relaxing me nicely. I closed my eyes. Brad let out a long sigh, then a strange wince. As I flicked my eyes open, he was bowing his head forward.
“You good?” I asked.
“Kink in my neck. Fuck. All that driving.”
“Come here,” I said, and started massaging it with one hand. I didn’t plan on touching him, but something about this new Brad was almost endearing. There he was, a divorced loser, trying to relive the good old days. His neck was tense, that was for sure. I could feel thick knots under my fingertips, straining to reach them as I squeezed. His neck was massive too. Even with both my hands, I probably couldn’t circle it. It was weird, I thought, as I massaged him. Why did I feel so loopy? My head was light, and my vision was swimmy. I guess drinking and sauna didn’t mix well. I thought about getting some air, but as I stretched my legs, I realized that little by little, he’d moved his towel to the side. And as I realized that, it dropped to the floor.
His dick was huge. Thick as a beer can, perfectly straight, with a head the same size as the shaft. It emerged from a nest of pubes, damp with sweat. My eyes widened. Mark’s dick wasn’t amazing. It had a large mushroom head that was never fully hard on a thin shaft. This was something else.
As I silently eyed it, Brad patted the bench next to him. Before I knew it, I’d climbed down, and was sitting on his side, my thin hairless leg pressed again his thick furry one. I didn’t even recognize myself. Why was I doing this?
“You like what you see?” he whispered in my ear, the taste of beer and whiskey on his breath. It was crazy, how much bigger than me he was. He could probably snap me in two. I’d never been into bears. But something about Brad worked. He was so virile, so horny, it was turning me on. He ran a finger on my inner thigh and chuckled as I squirmed.
“That’s better,” he whispered as he removed by towel, and chuckled as he saw that I was hard.
His paw took my hand, guiding it to his crotch.
“I saw you looking,” he whispered as I gripped his dick, feeling myself lift out of my body as I did. “Come on.”
The sauna was hot, so hot. I started coursing my hand on his shaft, slowly jacking him off as he told me to keep going. Sweat dripped from my forehead. I felt his balls. They were huge and hard and slick with sweat. He moaned as I coursed my fingertips under them. Before I knew it, his arm was around my shoulder. And then, his hand was at the back of my head. Guiding it downwards. Gently, but firmly. What the fuck was I doing? Was I about to suck this dude off? He looked like a trucker and smelled like one too, his crotch hitting me with a salty scent. But as his tip neared my lips, I opened without hesitation. The head fit in my mouth like it was made for it. It tasted incredible.
“That’s right, you little slut,” he moaned. “Fuck!”
My mouth was working overtime, making me proud as I drooled down to the base, drenching his pubes in spit and lubricating my throat as I reached further and further. I kept going, doing my best to follow Brad’s instructions, breathing around the shaft, licking his balls, biting the tender inside of his enormous thighs, spitting on the head before swirling my tongue around it. He knew exactly what he liked, and moaned loudly when I performed it. It was crazy, how much I was loving sucking his dick. Crazy…
I bucked up, but before I could, he pinned my head down, choking on his monster. He chuckled.
“You stay there, slut. Ten… Nine…”
By three, my vision started going black. I struggled for air, writhed, coughed gobs of spit until finally, he let me go. I gasped, spinning around wildly, looking for the glass he’d handed me when he walked in. I sniffed it. It didn’t smell off. But I knew something was going on.
“What the fuck did you put in there?” I asked.
He grinned, stroking his cock.
“Hey, you wanted this all along. Don’t blame it on a little bit of special sauce.”
It was probably molly, I thought. Fuck. That explained why I’d let my guard down and why it felt so good to touch him. Now, Brad looked like when I met him, with his sick, relaxed grin, as if he knew a joke and I didn’t. I tried to pull the glass door open, but Brad threw his foot on it, blocking it.
“Let me out,” I said.
“Oh, I’ll let you out,” he said. “But then, I’m telling Mark all about how you sucked my cock while I was out in the sauna. And then, you’ll be out of here. And I don’t think you want that. Because you don’t have anywhere to go. Don’t think I didn’t notice you were forcing yourself to play nice tonight.”
I froze. He’d found my weakness immediately.
“Tell you what,” he said, scratching his balls. “Finish the job, and I’ll call it even.”
For a second, I thought about screaming for help. Surely Mark would believe me. But then, everything about tonight was weird, topsy-turvy. Mark, who never even swore, had tolerated Brad saying the most vulgar obscenities to him without as much as blushing. He seemed to be under some kind of spell with Brad. Brad watched me calculate, and got up. He towered over me. He’d have no problem raping me if he wanted to. I gulped.
“Okay,” he said. “Offer’s expired. Out of my way.”
The words sent a shock through me.
“No, fine,” I said, “I’ll do it.”
He ran his thumb on his lips, considering me.
“No,” he said, with that sick chuckle.
“What? Why?”
“Hey, if you just did what you’re told, I’d be happy with you sucking my dick. I was just that horny. But now, the moment’s passed, so I’m going to need a lot more to get me going. You know?”
I looked up at him. He was smiling, dwarfing me. His cock was still slick with spit, and although it’d flagged a bit, it was growing back to its monstrous size. He slapped his stomach, running his hand on the fat. His hairy body was drenched in sweat, and radiated heat.
“Please,” I said weakly. I couldn’t lose Mark. I couldn’t.
He grinned.
“Be a good little toy, and maybe I’ll help you. Make me feel special.”
I looked at him, his round face, his big, meaty chest. This time, I felt nothing but disgust. He’d won. He was looking at me like a fleshlight, ready to degrade me. But I had no choice. I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to feel like nothing and have to give him everything. So I got on my toes, and kissed him. He growled, pulling me into him and slapping my ass. I ran my hand on his pecs, his hairy stomach as he groped me. His body felt enormous, so much powerful than mine. When my hand got to his dick, he was rock hard again. It was so girthy, I was having trouble gripping it all the way with one hand. His tongue was aggressive, plowing into my mouth, reaching for my throat. Eventually, he pried my face away from his, licked my cheeks, before telling me to open up. He spat in my mouth. I swallowed, even though it disgusted me. Before I knew it, with one hand, he’d grabbed me by the throat, with the other, he slapped me. He didn’t put a lot of strength into it, but it left my ear ringing.
“You forgot to say thank you, slut,” he snapped, before forcing my mouth open and spitting again. This time, I thanked him. He slapped me again.
“Thank you sir,” I said, getting the message.
“Good slut. Although you should really call me daddy.”
He pulled me in as he sat down, and I straddled his lap. He spread his legs, spreading mine, and started playing with my hole. I winced as he forced a finger in me. I pressed my face into his neck as he kept fingering me, adding more digits, sticking them in my mouth to wet them. Thankfully, the drugs helped, and soon, my hole felt warm and relaxed. He felt it too.
“You want my dick, slut?”
“Yes daddy.”
“How bad do you want it?”
“So bad.”
“You wanted it to minute you saw me, didn’t you, you little whore?”
“Yes daddy.”
He growled, satisfied, and asked me more of these questions, as I affirmed, time and time again, that all I wanted was his fat cock in me, that’s all I was made for, a little fuck toy for his pleasure, nothing more. At this stage, I was just playing a part. Whatever would get him off, without getting violent, without telling Mark. But with every question, I found myself getting harder and harder. There was something about his grip, about the hair on his chest under my nails, about how big he was, how strong, that turned me on. And the fact that he wanted to get off so hard, and I was just there to assist that. An object. When he finally pressed his tip against my hole, I buried my tongue in his mouth. And for the first time, he knew I meant it.
His cock felt huge in my ass. I had to take deep breaths, and thankfully, Brad was merciful, easing it in, inch after inch. When I felt his pubes, I couldn’t believe I’d taken it all. He started fucking me, slow then quickly, flipped me around on the bench and rammed it in doggy style. I felt his stomach hitting the top of my ass. He kept calling me a whore, spitting on me. And I wanted more. I wanted to be his plaything. I begged for his spit. When he needed a break, I threw myself on his cock, sucking it deeply, rubbing my face against his balls, inhaling his musky scent. He fucked me some more, and I realized I’d already cum. When he did, he forced me on my knees. He let out a deep grunt, and jammed his cock into my mouth. It was heavenly. His sperm was thick and salty, coming in great gobs that spilled down the side of my mouth. He didn’t even need to ask me: I cleaned him up myself, licking every single drop. As a thank, he spat on my face, and without saying another word, left the sauna.
I took a shower, crawled into bed next to Mark, and slept dreamlessly. When I woke up the next morning, I couldn’t believe what had happened. I felt violated, my hole sore and aching. He’d spiked my drink, then he raped me. I don’t what he slipped me, but it’d turned my brain around. Thinking back, I felt nothing but shame, shuddering at the thought of his gut slapping against my forehead, his thick jowls devouring my mouth. I should just tell Mark, I decided. But then, what was the point? As I spied in the driveway, Brad’s car was gone. It was just a horrible adventure, I decided. It was never going to happen again.
I went down to the kitchen for some coffee. I had the day off: maybe Mark would want to go for brunch. He was on the phone, and hung up when I kissed him on the cheek. He smiled at me.
“I got too drunk last night,” he said.
“Brad’s a bad influence.”
“You can say that again. Going to need to take it easy on Tuesday, I told him we’d hit the town.”
I nearly dropped my mug.
“Tuesday?”
“Yeah, he’s going to be sticking around here for a while,” Mark said. “He’s actually looking at a rental just down the street right now. Crazy luck.”
“Crazy.”
“He’s a weird guy for sure. But you know, all bark.”
“Yeah.”
I looked at my phone. I’d received some texts from an unknown number. Photos of an apartment. Instructions. Go douche. Show up at this address in an hour. And a video, of me sucking his cock. I was giving it my all, relishing in the blowjob. I gulped, and told Mark we were short on staff today so I needed to go in. As I got into the bedroom, I buried my fist in my mouth. Another text had come in, an instruction. Save the number under Daddy.
