Pink Hackeysack Part 3

I made it home that night by walking through the woods at the edge of the road in the early morning hours. I found some rags to cover myself and the few people who saw me must have thought I was crazy or destitute and there were no consequences. I stopped cruising for dick after that and since I had no real friends my life consisted of going to work and waiting to hear from my castrator. When I masturbated my ass-cunt I watched my tongue wiggling in a mirror hoping that Jason would come for it soon. I would miss it far more than I had ever missed having a dick; I’d never be able to give a decent blowjob again or lick a man’s ass but I was willing to give even that up for the straight athlete. Jason was my only hope for fulfillment and if he wanted it, my tongue was worth all the rest of me.

I watched every day as I went to and from work for signs of his coming, but months went by without my seeing the young man. Sometimes as I rode the bus to my job as warehouse inventory clerk I saw high school boys who recognized me. I understood that they had seen the pictures. It seemed that every teen dude in town knew who I was. They all laughed at me but I was never accosted. They all knew I belonged to Jason.

One Sunday when I arrived for some scheduled overtime there was a note on my desk to the effect that my boss, Mr. Golden, wanted to see me. His secretary had weekends off and I was to wait in his anteroom until he called me. I had worked for thirteen years for his uncle, now deceased, and it had been six months since the young man had taken over. His first name was Brandon but he went by “Bray,” a nickname the female employees who had fucked him said fit perfectly: he was hung like a donkey and proud of it. To me he would always be MR GOLDEN.

There were many hunky straight guys in the warehouse, mostly black men, and I regularly covered up the thefts of a small group of ex-cons who bribed my services, a fact the usually astute uncle had failed to discover. Any time a color TV or a camcorder went missing from the inventory I got a mouthful of black dick and the books were changed to make the item disappear. The warehouse hands had joked for years that I was a faggot and my new boss obviously disapproved of me. When the normal course of business made it necessary for us to meet, his attitude was contemptuously cold. I pretended not to notice and was as self-effacing and subservient as possible. He scared me and I adored him.

Mr. Golden was about thirty, a buffed slab of a man with cropped dark hair that crowned his handsome face and shadowed his strong chin, exploding from his shirt collar in thick gleaming ringlets when he loosened his tie. He was dark with a full-blooded flush in his face that deepened when he was angry. As I sat on the sofa outside his office, relishing the coming pleasure of being alone with him, I knew he would make me wait for it and that he would humiliate me in any way he could when he finally did see me. The last time he had kept his feet up on his desk during our talk, the soles of his shoes practically in my face. Yet the very thought of being in his presence excited me. I had never known him when I was a man, or more accurately, a male, only after I had thoroughly adjusted to a life without testicles. And he was the ultimate expression of what I had lost: testosterone. Everybody knew that he had been a jock and though it was accepted that he was no genius in running the business every man admired him and most of the women had slept with him at least once. How I envied them!

While I was waiting a young married woman from the reception pool walked right by me and entered his office without knocking. For the next half hour I sat there knowing that whatever need had called me to him would have to wait for the emptying of his balls. I could hear them, her moaning, his desk scuffing across the tiled floor as his meat slammed her. I pictured them, her spread wide, him heaving over her, the portrait photo of his wife and kids staring at them while they fucked on his desk. When she finally left, she stopped to wipe a pearly trail of his semen from her leg with a tissue. She didn’t even see me. She threw the tissue in a trash can and I snatched it up and ate it.

I wish she would have let me lick that cum off her leg; I would have gladly lapped her gaping cunt to taste that magnificent man’s seed. I hungered for the sight of him but he it was another hour before he finally opened his office door and waved me in. He was splendidly dressed in an expensive imported suit, his thick black hair brushed back from his forehead. Only a few dried sweat trails at the low sweep of his hairline told on the athletics of the previous hour, but his masculine, leather-bound and charcoal hued office reeked of sex. He waved me to a chair directly inches from his uncle’s huge mahogany desk and surprisingly smiled at me as he strode about the room.

“Thanks for coming in,” he began warmly and somewhat hypocritically, after making me wait for more than two hours . I’ve been watching your work. Congratulations. You really are an asset to the company.”

I beamed idiotically. This was unexpected. He threw off his cashmere jacket letting it drop to the floor. I admired the breadth of his linen-clad shoulders, then the tapered slope of his waistline as I lowered my eyes submissively. “Thanks, Mr. Golden.”

“You deserve it.” He destroyed the knot of his tie in one movement of a meaty hand and whipped it from his bull neck. “I’ve got a tennis match in a half hour. You don’t mind if I change while we talk?”

“No,” I was so shocked that he had half-undone his shirt before I spoke. His deep-cut chest displayed a pride of dark curls still matted with the heat of his conquest. “No, please do,” I stammered stupidly. His chest hair V’d down to an arrow point diving through the hard slab of his belly into his beltline. He tossed the shirt away and began to undo his trousers.

My first thought was that he was going to try to seduce me. But I knew that was ridiculous. He was completely and magnificently straight. “You don’t mind if I strip in front of you?” He stood directly before me looking into my eyes.

“Please do.” I repeated. The phone rang. He squatted on the edge of the desk before me and answered as his pants fell away.

“Hello, hi babe, I was thinking of you..” His trousers were around his ankles. In place of underwear he wore a black jockstrap. I saw the big meat of his ass bulging at the back of his thighs and the huge jock-cupped dick-bulge directly before my face. I could barely keep my tongue in my face, so grateful I was that Jason hadn’t taken it yet.

“Sure, you know I’d like that…” It was one of his girlfriends. The picture of his wife was on the desk next to him. It was turned away from me; I couldn’t see it, but I knew that she was overweight and homely, married for money and dicked to make sons. Otherwise he was a major philanderer and his many women were beautiful. He started to tweak one of his dark nipples till it stood erect. Another erection was growing in his jockstrap inches from my face, the fat head of his enormous penis pushing up against the stretch fabric, growing past his navel.

“I’m gonna fuck you just like that, just the way you like it, up the ass, down the throat and cum in your sweet cunt..” He glanced at me and rolled his eyes as if to say, “women!” I couldn’t hide the fact that I was staring at his jock bulge but it didn’t concern him. Then he turned away from me and started whispering dirty love words into the phone. He sank to his elbows on the desk and his big naked buttocks thrust back until the thick black hair in the ass cleft tickled my nose. My pulse was racing and I drew breath in sharply, tasting his tangy sweat in my nostrils. The “Golden Ass.” How I had dreamed of it every time I saw him in his tight slacks. I could see, in the shadow of his crack, the pink slit of his virgin asshole, a few flecks of brown frosting the thick pubic curls. I opened my mouth, too frightened to pull back or move in.

“Don’t you want to eat it?” I heard him say. I was terrified that he was reading my mind. Then I noticed the blinking red light on the phone. He had put the call on hold. “Last chance, faggot,” he commanded and pushed his asshole against my lips.

There were tears in my eyes I was so grateful. I didn’t understand what was happening but I wasn’t going to try to figure it out. My face lapped up and down the deep furry split and my nose burrowed into his shit and sweat greased anus. I kissed his asshole and my tongue danced with joy in the manly lip. I tried to sink in but the straight man’s iron sphincter was a vault door between the hairy pump muscles of his mammoth butt. He groaned as I finally managed to push about half my taster into his rectal passage and what I tasted was wet hot shit. It was there, a big turd, nearly on the point of exit. He was holding it otherwise it would have slid into my hungry jaw. My whole face was in heat, my slobber running over my flexing lips, dripping to the floor. Mr. Golden was hot too, his big thighs taut, his veiled cock slamming the desk as he ground his ass into my tongue-screw. Then he said it, “Do it. Fuck me. Shove your gay dick up my ass.”

I was thunderstruck. After what had happened nothing should have surprised me but I never expected this surely. I froze realizing I was about to be robbed of my moment of bliss by my inability to be a man. How could I tell my handsome young boss that he had chosen a ruined queer for his walk on the wild side. My face was already red with excitement but I blushed as I never had before. “Sir, I-I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I stammered.

He pulled his ass away and turned to face me. I dropped my eyes, in an agony of embarrassment. “Look at me,” he demanded. “You are a fudge-packer, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir,” I managed to choke out. “But only with my tongue.”

“You like my ass, don’t you?” I saw that he was putting the call on speakerphone.

“Sir I worship your ass, Mr. Golden.” Why would he want his girlfriend to hear this?

“Why then? Why won’t you fuck me?” I couldn’t speak. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?” The bottom dropped out of my world as he turned around the portrait frame on his desk and I saw that it was the picture of me on my back in the dirt, being fucked in the mouth by a horny dog, smooth pink flesh where my dick should have been. From the phone came the sound of male laughter. Several young men it seemed; I realized it was Jason and his friends.

“What happened to your dick?” Mr. Golden asked contemptuously.

Jason yelled through the phone, “He paid us to cut it off and feed it to the dog!” More belly laughs. Mr.

Golden continued to stare at me, awaiting my reply. I nodded.

He said, “I’ll talk to you guys in a minute,” and put the call back on hold. Tears were running down my cheeks. “Get down on your knees, cocksucker.”

Mr. Golden returned to his former position, elbows on the desk, stud ass in my face. “Kiss my ass.” I did gratefully. My embarrassment was still palpable but it didn’t seem to matter now that I knew that he was going to let me continue to feed at his anus. As a wet smelly fart exploded in my face, my young boss said, “I’ve got something for you. Eat it,” and his straight asshole grew amazingly wide ringing a burnt brown turd as fat as his prick. It went straight into my sucking mouth and slid into my throat. The head of the monster shit was already past my tonsils before the tail end had pushed out his stretching asshole. I gulped it down. It tasted terrible and yet I wanted it more than anything. It was followed by a plum-sized turd and though I swallowed as fast as I could, my entire mouth was filled with the hairy man’s shit.

“By the way, you’re fired,” he stated simply. I felt nauseous but I couldn’t risk offending him by failing to swallow all of his waste. I pressed my lips together and chewed silently, concentrating on trying not to vomit as I considered that my job was gone, like my dick a victim to my sick lust. I would probably never see this god of a man again. This straight flesh god whose bowel fruit I swallowed as I stared into the sanctity of his tiny shit-smeared butthole.

“Your final check is here,” he said, still bent over his desk. He tossed an envelope to the floor. “Clean me before you go,” he ordered. With great reverence I took a husky butt cheek in each hand and gently pulled them apart, then applied my face to his filthy crack, licking and sucking at the shining black curls, tongue-scooping a clod of feces from his shit-lips. I could have done that forever but after a few minutes he said, “Stop and reached back to swat me away from his butt. He took a tissue from his desk and wiped his ass then looked at it. It was wet but clean. Without looking at me he thrust it into my face. “Wipe your face and then eat it!” I carefully swiped the brown from my lips and nose then swallowed the tissue, my second that day. Then he pushed the hold button on the phone again and I realized that Jason was once more in the room with us.

“Hey faggot,” he yelled, “Did you like your snack? Bray told me he was keeping you in the waiting room until he needed you for a toilet. I know you just got fired, now here’s what you’re going to do. First, he told me how much money you’ve got in your retirement plan. Cash it out. I’ll be needing it. I know it will take a few weeks to get it so in the meantime I want you to go the courthouse and get your name changed legally. Your new name is “Richard Less.” Got that?” I said that I understood, but in fact I was mystified. Why on earth would Jason care about my name? It occurred to me that he had taken my nuts, my dick, my job and now my identity. He was re-making me for his own amusement. “You won’t see me again till the name change is final. Wait for me at your house. It’s my house now- I need a place to party. We’ll hafta find someplace for you.” Then I heard Erich’s voice, “EAT SHIT, QUEER! Oh yeah you already did!”

I heard them hang up then Mr. Golden turned to me. “Now get out and don’t come back.”

I was halfway to the door, my final check in hand when he stood and faced me. “Wait, he said.” He pulled the jockstrap down, letting it fall to the floor. His amazing salami pointed at me, twelve-inches, half-hard, a three inch drool of semen hanging from the fat head. “Show me,” he whispered, cupping his huge hairy balls in one hand and running the other lightly over his chest. “Strip.”

I stood before him and pulled my sweater over my head. Then I unfastened my trousers as I kicked off my shoes. In a moment I was naked. I knelt on the floor and leaned back, my knees wide apart so that he could get a good look at my crotch. Even though I knew he had seen the pictures, I flushed from the top of my balding head to my navel as he stared at my smooth groin, a look of bewilderment and disgust clouding his handsome features.

“You really paid them to do that to you?” It was a lie, but it was Jason’s lie and that made it the truth for me. I nodded. Mr. Golden stepped forward until his stiffening monster cock was inches from my lips. I was awestruck by its size and knotted beauty. His thick black pubes grew halfway up the stalk. “Stick out your tongue.” I did and he squeezed his fat dickhead until the creamy cum oozed into my mouth. I swallowed it.

He sneered. “What will you give me if I let you suck my cock?” I couldn’t believe it. I wanted his cock more than anything but I had nothing to offer. Mr. Golden went to his desk and fished something out of a drawer. When he stood before me his powerful cock was now completely erect.

“This, Mr. Golden, sir, if you’ll have it.” I handed him the check. I knew it must have been for more than twelve hundred dollars, a hundred for each inch of his donkey dick. He said, “I’ll take that. Drop it.” I set it at his big feet. He opened his hand and I saw that he held a rubber and a pocketknife.

“I want more. I want to cut you.”

“Yes, yes, whatever you want. Anything.”

“Your face. While you suck me.” I was terrified but desperate for his dick. What would he do to me? “Of course,” I answered meekly. “You’re the boss.”

“Cover me,” he ordered. I took the rubber and stretched it over his bursting cock head. I should have realized that he wouldn’t let me suck his bare manhood with my shit-covered fag mouth. The condom stopped about three-quarters of the way to his dick root.

He snapped open the knife and cut off the reservoir tip. “Now blow me,” he said. I spread my jaw and smoothed my hot mouth over his bursting glans. As I slurped in his glorious prick he placed the point of the knife at my forehead. As he began to pump his giant meat in and out of my mouth pushing hard against my tonsils then withdrawing for another thrust, he snarled, “This is for stealing from me, you pervert!” I felt the blade slash raggedly across my brow. Blood dripped down my face and coated my lips and his rubbered tool. It slid into my mouth and salted his fuck.

I relaxed my throat and felt his big fucker slam past my tonsils and rape my gullet. He brought the knife to my cheekbone and dug it in, just tearing the skin. He yanked down ripping a five inch flap into my face. “That’s for being a shit-eating, nutless queer!” More blood but I kept sucking, tightening my jaw around his humping stud dick. I could feel it growing.

“And this,” he howled as he slashed my other cheek as badly, “Is for my fucking nut!” Then his slick pubic hair was in my face and his fat dickhead was choking the wind out of me as it swelled and shot its endless load down my throat in a series of steaming blasts. When he was done, he yanked his prick from me and stepped back. I couldn’t tell if he was more disgusted with himself or with me. He took a cigar from his desk, cut it with the same knife he had used to mutilate me and lit it. He took the rubber from his dick and threw it at me. I took it, my souvenir, and waited for him to speak.

He pointed to his socks on the floor. “Wipe your face. It’s not deep but you’ll need to keep them on the cuts on your way home. If you don’t get stitches you’d better bandage yourself. Never tell anyone it was me who did it to you or I’ll have you killed.”

“Yes sir.” I would never betray him.

“Open the check and look at it. Then tear it up.”

I did. It was for thirteen hundred and seventy-nine dollars. Then I saw: it was made out to “DICK LESS.” Jason’s joke. My new name. I tore it up.

“Eat it. Think of my prick when you shit thirteen hundred smackers into the toilet.” With that he went into his back office, slamming the door. I did as I was told, then dressed and crept away, covering my bleeding face with his dirty socks. I was glad to have them. I was grateful.