Failed Threesome

Sarah and I had met Stuart online. He was 42, 10 years older than us. In the sixth months that we had been together, Sarah and I had enjoyed a MMF threesome with a mutual friend twice before, but it been a more conventional affair, both of us giving Sarah all of our attention, careful to avoid crossing swords. Sarah and I were both curious about trying something a little more kinky with a man who would dominate both of us, and cuckold me. We were both bi, but I hadn't done anything with a guy since college. I had let a gay friend of mine suck my cock, and taken his in my mouth too, though I had not sucked him to completion.

Stuart lived in a condo in a residential neighborhood about twenty minutes from the neighborhood were we both lived. I had coordinated the meet up online, and I have to admit that I liked how from the get go he put me down, calling me "cuck," and "wimp-dick," bragging about his big dick and superior sexual prowess. We set up a scene where he would have us over and "put both of us through our paces." as he said. He instructed me to make sure my "back door was clean." The order had made my heart flutter and my cheeks redden with embarrassment.

After the short drive in Sarah's car, we parked and Stuart invited us in. He had all the lights low and some music playing, wine out on the coffee table. He was not a remarkable looking guy, his balding hair trimmed into a buzz cut, glasses, pock-marked features, and a visible beer gut. In my head I thought how I was far more conventionally handsome than him, and in better shape. Though we were the same height he definitely outweighed me, with much wider hips, broad shoulders, and a sizable beer belly. Still, I could sense that we were both a little disappointed, or at least underwhelmed. He looked like a beefier version of the IT guy at my office.

He grasped Sarah in a forceful and assertive embrace, feeling her up and boldly kissing her, all while looking at me in the eye. I just stood their and let it happen- I knew this was what he expected of me. After releasing her, he grabbed my hand into a crushing handshake, imprisoning my smaller hand in his for an unnecessarily long amount of time, again drilling his dark eyes into mine. His hand was much larger than mine and very strong. He called me "Billy," a diminutive version of my name which I had not volunteered.

"Please to meet you, Sir." He chuckled wolfishly, pleased by my submission, and Sarah looked at me with surprise. Stuart noticed this and smirked at me. I stepped inside his home. It was sparsely decorated. I took my shoes off and put them beside a few pair of his- I noticed they were much larger than mine.

He had us sit beside him on the couch and poured us two glasses of wine. The couch sat opposite a large mirror, and I sized him up discreetly. I never would have guessed that a guy like him would be a "bull," the sexually powerful men who join cuckold couples in the bedroom. He was out-of-shape, kind of dumpy, and he looked almost like a nerd, but he had a cruel look of confidence on his face as he kept his arm around my girlfriend's shoulder. He winked at me cockily as he copped a feel of her breast with his big hand, making her giggle.

After our second glass he produced a large joint. Sarah took it eagerly, I initially refused it, but he gave me such a look of reproach that I caved immediately and accepted it. He watched intently as I took a hesitant puff. I coughed a big. I tried to hand it back to him but he forced my hand back to my face.

"No, no, no. Again, boy. Longer this time." He barked at me like a coach, staring me down. Sarah watched with fascination as he forced me to inhale. He clasped his left hand onto the back of my neck possessively, collaring me as he made me smoke. It made me think of hanging out with my older brother's friends as a teenager, when they'd force me to smoke or drink with them.

"Hold it, hold it, keep it in, that's it." I felt-lightheaded and kept it in as long as I could. Finally I erupted into a fit of coughing, sputtering out a huge cloud of pot smoke. They both laughed at me.

"There we go. Let's get you nice and dumb so I can have my way with your girl, little pussy." I felt woozy as I sat there, and he kept his strong hand clasped to the back of my neck. With his right hand he continued to fondle my girlfriend. After the joint got passed a few more times, each time making sure that I smoked to his satisfaction, he held my glass to my lips and forced me to down half of glass of wine. He then filled it up for me again and barked at me to drink as he turned his attentions to Sarah, pulling her to him. As they made out, his left hand never loosened its grip on the back of my neck.

He had her sit on his lap and with his right arm he took her top off. His hand attacked her bra and she removed it, unleashing her pert size B's. He grabbed the back of her head and brought her mouth to his for another round of furious french kissing. Stuart slapped the back of my head roughly and brought his left arm in front of my face, snapping insistently and pointing at the wine glass I had left on the coffee table. Trembling from the smack, I took my glass and took a reluctant sip. He was forcing me to get drunk- the humiliation of meekly complying, obeying him, made my dick achingly hard.

Moving her around on his lap, he chewed on her breasts and then growled at me.

"Finish it you dumb faggot, then get us another bottle." He slapped my head again and pointed down the hall, then turned his face back to my girlfriend's belly. I obeyed, downing my glass then slowly standing from the couch and walking through the dark path to his kitchen. I found another bottle and opened it, my hands shaking. I felt like I was on another planet, and I noticed my whole body was flush, beet red. I had a hard-on in my jeans that felt like it would burst.

I nervously came returned to the living room. Stuart threw Sarah on to her back and kissed her some more, then stood up over her, yanking her skirt off.

"Get the fuck over here, sissyboy." I placed the wine on the table and walked over to him sheepishly. He grabbed my shirt by the collar, and in one violent motion stripped the shirt right off my back. I felt doubly vulnerable being bare-chested in front of him. He grinned at me evilly and stepped in closer, invading my personal space. It felt strange, his shirt pressed against my exposed skin.

"What a little fucking wimp. Little faggot prettyboy." He grabbed my sides and felt me up roughly. I quivered from being fondled, his hands squeezing my midsection so tight they almost touched.

"Skinny little gym body. Don't you know your girl wants a real man." He slapped his belly for emphasis.

His large hand grabbed my waist, and then ran up my stomach to my chest. He grabbed my sides again and I heard him snort sharply. With a low, growling sound he unleashed a thick loogie of green snot right on my bare chest. It hit me in the little cleft right between my pectoral muscles, it felt cold and sickeningly wet as it clung there. He laughed cruelly and grabbed my hands, taking them in his, he forced me to rub his phlegm into the little thicket of light colored hair that adorned my chest.

"What do you say, boy?" He demanded with a wolfish grin on his face.

"Thank you, Sir." I looked to the couch and Sarah was staring at me dumb-founded.

He then took a step back and quickly flung his own black t-shirt off. His big hairy belly poured out. He was completely coated in dark, wiry hair that contrasted to his pail clammy flesh. Even his shoulders were hairy, but it was thickest on his large chest and big generous gut. He ran his fingers through the forest proudly.

"See this boy, this is what a man is supposed to look like, a real man." I nodded dumbly, acknowledging his superior manhood. He was right.

His hands attacked my belt and unbuttoned my pants. The next thing I knew I was trembling before them in the tighty-whities he had instructed me to wear. Sarah laughed in ridicule from the couch - the one time she had seen me in them she said they made me look like a little boy. But in his emails, Stuart had ordered me to wear them, had told me that these were the only appropriate underwear for little wimpy cuck boys.

"Have another drink, sweetheart. Daddy will be with you in a minute, I just have to put this wimp a your's in his place." Turning back to me, Stuart grabbed the back of my neck again and lifted his right arm to the ceiling. I instantly could smell the strong stench of sweat from his armpit. It was a dark, swirling forest. He pulled my head into his open arm, and I felt myself drawn into his armpit face first. I couldn't believe he was making me do this. I allowed him to press my face into the coarse and sweaty hair of his armpit.

"That's it, give that stinking man-pit a little kiss, pussy. A french kiss." I opened my mouth and was overwhelmed by the acrid, sweat-drenched bush of his pit.

"Hey Sarah, look how hard your boyfriend's wimpy little dick gets in his tighty-whities when he tongues out my sweaty armpit. He's got a little tent in his undies going!" He laughed as he ground my face into his pit. He then shifted his stance and threw my head into his other armpit.

"That's it, keep kissing. Might as well make it good. I have a feeling that from now on, the only thing you're going to get to kiss is my hairy armpit. Maybe my balls too, if you're lucky." I licked with gusto, giving into the degradation of this, wanting to taste the sweat and the smell of him. My pecker pulsed in my tighty-whities and I ground it into his jeans, against big thigh.

"Ooh, he's loving this Sarah. I think he might just come in his panties if we keep this up. After all, he is a premature ejaculator, isn't' he Sarah?" He released me from the humid prison of his pit and pawed my waist and pulled me roughly so that I stood a few inches before him. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my jockeys and swiftly ripped them down to my ankles. I stood bare ass before him and Sarah, the air caressing my naked backside feeling strange.

He instantly burst into loud, mocking laughter as he openly leered at my endowment. I felt my face grow somehow redder. I looked at Sarah, she was chuckling along with him. I was totally hard, just under six inches, poking up towards my belly button desperately. I guess on someone over 6 feet it looked pretty small.

"Oh Sarah you poor girl. Is this all he's been giving you? No wonder you're horny for a real man." He reached around and slapped my butt cheek, unsteadying me, and without reservation he reached down and began fiddling with my hard-on. I gasped at the touch of his large, rough hands on my penis.

"Christ, I had a bigger dick by the time I was 10, no lie. And these little balls are like grapes. They're like a fucking little boy's." He cupped and fondled my scrotum as he continued to laugh derisively, eyeing my endowment with disbelief.

"Seriously, did you even go through puberty man?" He spoke right into my ear, his big broad face only an inch from mine, as he ran his big fingers through my modest pubic bush.

"You barely even have pubes. Like a damn kid." I let the words wash over me, and felt them penetrate my brain. Mean as it was, the humiliation was making me tremble with lust. I noticed Sarah looking at me with curiosity. Suddenly he clasped my shoulders and forced me to my knees. He grabbed the back of my head and held it in front of his bulging crotch, just inches away.

"Now I'm going to show you what a real man is packing between his legs. Take it out for me, faggot." Sarah was staring at me intently as I reached with trembling hands and unzipped his jeans. Instantly a long, and extremely thick, penis unfurled out, half-hard but clearly longer than my hard-on. He bucked his hips forward and slapped me in the face with it, sending both him and Sarah into hysterics. He pushed me down on to the floor and went back to Sarah on the couch. He took his pants off and i was greeted with the obscene sight of his huge, hairy white ass over me. He stepped out of the jeans and kicked them across the floor near me - I saw that he wore a waist size of 38.

"You stay on your hands and knees now, boy, or there'll be hell to pay." He sat down beside her and had me serve them wine, then again insisted I fill one for myself too. He had Sarah on his lap, her face buried into his cock, as he reached over and fingered her crotch.

Stuart stretched his big, thick hairy legs out on to an ottoman, proudly showing off his huge, hairy endowment, and snapped and pointed to his large, wide bare feet. Just like the rest of him, they were covered in the same swirling black hair. I tentatively took them in my hands and to rub them. I couldn't believe how low he had brought me, in front of Sarah. He leaned over and slapped the back of my head angrily, and then forced my face into his toe. I knew what he wanted.

His feet had the same sweaty musk that his pits did. They stunk, but I was eager for every humiliation he visited on me. The whole night it felt like he had been stripping me of my manhood, stripping me of any masculinity I ever had and forcing me to serve his. Ripping off the false protective armor of manhood piece by piece until it lay tattered at my feet, exposing the quivering, perverted wimp I was deep down. All in front of my girlfriend. The thought made me dizzy.

So i licked his feet like the most pathetic faggot slave I could have ever imagined. I sucked on each toe gratefully. Dug my tongue between each toe to taste the distinct funk there. Lapped his heels and balls of his feet, sucked upon his untrimmed, yellowed toenails, swirled the long hairs on his toes in my mouth. All the while he laughed cruelly and praised my efforts derisively.

He had me wheel my body around so that my kneeling legs and backside faced the couch. He laid his big hand down on my sweat-soaked small of my back, just past my keister. He laid his hand there the way a master would rest his hand on his dog.

"That it sluts, keeping sucking. You suck my cock, sweetheart, and your little faggot boyfriend can keep sucking on my stinking feet." He brought his hand from my and grabbed my neck, then forced his thick fingers in my mouth. I licked them eagerly, then he slapped my face and sent me back to tongue-on-toe duty.

The next thing I know, I felt his fat, moistened fingers jabbing between my butt cheeks. When one darted into my hole roughly, I yelped, and Sarah stood up and gasped. He kicked his foot back into my mouth, and I felt my lip swell. I obeyed and began licking his feet again, and let him force the trespassing digit into my backside.

I felt Sarah crawl over us and off the couch. I tried to look up but he brought this other foot down on the back of my neck hard, locking me in.

"Bill, I'm sorry, I can't do this- I can't do any of this, and - I don't want-" I could hear her scrambling to dress and collect her things. Stuart kept me locked into position, I tried to call out but I couldn't even say anything as he had half of his giant right foot down my throat. He ground his left heel into my upper back painfully, keeping me imprisoned. All the while his finger continued to burrow into my ass. I heard her grab her purse and her keys, but I couldn't see her as she fled from Stuart's condo and into the night. Her car sped from the driveway and now I was stranded alone with this stranger.

"Tough luck, Billyboy. I think you've just been dumped." He cracked up with laughter, releasing my head from the hold but continuing to grind his feet into my mouth. I lifted myself from the ottoman, stumbling to stand, my head racing from the wine and weed.

"Stuart, Sir, please, I need to call her- I need-"

"What, with this?" He stood from the couch, my cell phone in his hand.

"Stu, please-" I grabbed for the phone and he pushed me hard. I stumbled several feet and walked over to my pants.

He then pushed past me, shouldering me into the wall like a bully pushing his victim into lockers, and seized my pants from the floor.. From my discarded jeans he pulled out the keys to my studio apartment and my wallet. When I nervously reached for them, he threw me back on to the couch. There was no way I could get these things back from him by force. I cowered naked on the couch as he read my license.

"William E. Bradford, it's just you and me. Just little Billy and the Big Boss." He then opened a shelf and threw my wallet, phone and keys into an open safe, which he slammed and locked shut to my horror.

He sat beside me and threw his big heavy arm over shoulder, pulling me into him.

"Your ass is mine, boy. You're all mine, my property, until I say so. You got it, Billy boy?" He reached between my legs and his fingers found their way to my hole again. I nodded slowly, feeling his size, his heft and strength beside me, pushing into me. He had at least 40 pounds on me. I was truly afraid of what this man could do to me if I displeased him. I also felt that strange compulsion to continue to please him. I leaned into him, his stronger, larger body, offering more of myself to his hand. I winced as he shoved another finger up my backside, but accepted the intrusion, doing my best to breathe deeply and allow it entry.

"If you think this changes anything you're out of your ditzy little mind, Billyboy. I'm still going to fuck that ass of your's, just like we planned. You're getting some dick tonight, sweetpea. There's no going back, Billyboy." He fondled my chest with his other hand, tweaking my nipple. He leaned in and nuzzled my neck. His mouth felt incredible. It made me swoon as he chewed on my neck, chest and ear. He began devouring around my ear, darting his tongue into my ear lobe. All the while his fingers worked in and out of my cheeks, the other expertly tweaking my nipple, making me literally swoon.

"Besides, I liked you better than her, anyway." He whispered huskily into the ear he had covered in his spit. He sawed three fingers into my backside and I moaned and ground down in to them.

"Yeah that's right sissy, you're just dying to spread those legs for me, aren't you pussyboy." I moaned in response, and he jabbed them in roughly, causing me to yelp.

"Aren't you?!" He demanded, continuing to roughly finger-bang me. Finger-banged. I was being finge-rbanged just like some dumb slut.

"Yes, Sir." I croaked.

"You want to be my pussyboy?" He barked, drilling his bottomless black eyes into mine.

"Yes Sir- I- want to be your pussyboy." I admitted. He continued to glare at me, our faces pressed up next to each other like fighters during a pre-match stare down. All the while his fingers worked their way inside me, enveloping the lower half of my body in a feverish heat.

He brought his face closer and to my surprise he seized my mouth in his, forcing my head into his for a long, demanding kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth, it felt so strange to kiss a man like this- the size of his thick tongue, his huge mouth, the stubble scraping my face. His big carnivorous teeth banging into mine. The acrid smell of his sweat. The tobacco, weed and wine imbued in his spit. His tongue wrestled mine into submission. I yielded completely, giving free range of my mouth to the hot and stinking invader. It was like he was raping my mouth with his own.

All the while, I felt his saliva seep into my mouth. I overcame the reflexive revulsion and swallowed, thrilled by the shameful submission of it. Taking his copious spit into my body, down my throat, into my stomach. His tongue explored my mouth, the newly conquered territory, stretching out to jab around my teeth, my gums, anywhere it wanted. He kept the fingers of his right hand up my backdoor, and with his left hand scooped me up around the other side. He stood from the couch, lifting me up with his intimidating strength, never breaking the kiss. We continued to swap spit like teenagers as he carried me to his bedroom. He laid me down on his bed, which just had a sheet on it. He lifted my legs up, and to my surprise he buried his large, stubbly face between my cheeks. His large, powerful tongue darted into my most private regions. He knew what he was doing, and soon I was convulsing, wrapping my legs around his broad, hairy shoulders, gasping with lust. When he reappeared from between my legs he had a triumphant smile on his face.