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I hung around nearby campus for a couple of weeks to make sure Cody settled in okay. Jamal gave me daily reports, of how the pledge had attracted lots of unwanted attention from the seniors when they caught a glimpse of his smooth tattooed flesh during the frat hazings. The boys were cautious though, and while his shiny skin and sleazy tatt meant he had no friends, neither did he have any enemies. None of the others had seen his cock jewelry yet, I suspected that things might change if they did. Even so, he was at the bottom of the pecking order, and Jamal did his best to inject some humiliation into the role the boys would not. When they made him collect all the clothes for washing, Jamal followed him into the empty laundry and told him to suck the jocks clean before washing them. This he did barearsed, since it was also his once weekly chance to wash his own single change of clothes.
That's when Jamal noticed something about the sexy jock I'd missed - his short frenulum. Of course the muscle stud's tight foreskin was hard to miss, covering half of the glans when he was soft, retracting only to the edge of the corona when hard, but I'd not given much through to the tight ridge of skin holding it there. Jamal, whose own hooting foreskin still slid up the shaft when he was hard, noticed immediately. It was enticing - on the one hand, a quick snip could free his foreskin, and with Cody's unusually short bowstring, not only would it free the head during sex, but his soft hood would slide down over the head, which would be sure to make it an ugly stinking fold in no time. I'd heard of boys tucking quarters into their hood to measure it, and relished the chance to make him carry ten dollars in change in stretching flesh. On the other hand, the condition made erections even more uncomfortable, obviously something he'd lived with for a while, although now he was constantly hard and horny, and we'd tethered his prince albert back with wire, his curved erections strained against the dickflesh. Jamal reported the stretched skin looked angry and inflamed, the head straining against the tethered hood. In the end, I opted for making the most of both options.
On the first morning of the second week, Jamal let himself into Cody's room pulling the sheet down from his naked torso, over his jutting piss-hard on and down his silky legs. In one swift movement, he clamped one hand over the jock's sexy pouty mouth, and with the other, clipped a mini-bulldog clip to his stretched shaft, right on the frenulum. The little clip, barely half an inch long, fiercely clamped down on the fold of flesh, pulling it away from the shaft maybe a quarter inch. It was enough to send Cody howling, his muffled screams rousing him from deep sleep as his clipped dick bucked in the air. With the clip on, the foreskin was tight to his glans, so tight it could barely move. The pain must've been unbearable. In a few seconds, he stopped screaming, seeing Jamal towering over him, and Jamal cautioned him to stay quiet if he didn't want worse. He released his mouth. The only sounds that came from the tortured jock were deep breaths and a slight whimper, as he tried to keep the pain under control. ""Okay dickboy" he rasped, his own face only inches from the panting jock, "that clip stays on until we say so. Don't even touch it, not even if the skin goes purple, which it will..." Between breaths, Cody begged "But it's killing me, it's like it's ripping my skin! How do you know it won't do permenantly damage?" Jamal laughed. "Well actually we're hoping it will. Don't worry, bull calves like you can take it. Remember, don't touch!" With that Jamal gave the jock's throbbing stalk a squeeze, and crept out of the room.
It must've been agony struggling into his tight laced shorts, pierced and trussed dick now savagely clipped at the base, but he did it somehow, and by the time I dropped in on campus on a fatherly visit, he was fully dressed, although sweating into the thin cotton tee and still breathing like a crash victim. The other guys kept their distance, and I caught sneers in their glances. When I arrived on campus I told him I'd take him out for lunch, and he reluctantly followed me to the car. He said he'd miss classes, clearly still clinging to the idea he'd have some sort of normal life ahead of him. But I didn't want to enlighten him just yet, that I had other goals for his college days.
Once we took off I made him strip naked again and prop his feet on the dashboard, so his smooth legs were wide and his dick in full view through the windscreen. We'd only driven a little way and Cody tried to cover up when he recognised guys from campus on the sidewalk. I slapped him for trying, passing him a bottle of baby oil and telling him to begin smearing it on, starting with his crotch. I slowed to a crawl, so the guys could get a good gawk at the handsome stud , glistening dick in hand, lathering up his naked flesh in the sun. Of course it made him achingly hard as well, the head of his dick now pulled sharply downwards towards his bulging balls. But for all the pain and embarrassment, his fear kept him in check, and kept lathering on the sticky oil until his whole body shone from his wide shoulderblades to his cut calves. After passing dozens of stunned students and townies, we finally arrived at a grimy motel on the outskirts of town.
Our trip wasn't lunch of course, but to visit Horace, who was about to travel back to the movie stables after a week's convalescence. His swollen nads, after the swinging and kicking treatment they'd got, had immobilised him, and for four days he was a mask of screaming pain needing sedation. But now he was somewhat recovered, and his agent and I thought it would be nice to get the pair back together before he left. In truth I was becoming quite fond of 'Horse', being my chief entertainment for Cody's first week of college. When I wasn't booking new modelling gigs for Cody, I was at his bedside, making him feel uncomfortable. It didn't take much - a lingering tonguefuck, slowly jerking his fat salami until it throbbed with unreleased fucklust, or forced crunches in bed until rivulets of sweat dripped from his pecs, while I idly fingered his hot hole. That one had the bonus of his balls resting on the palm of my hand, so the slightest movement made him wince with pain.
But my immediate concern was to get some nice pictures of Cody for his new modelling portfolio. Something with a bit more action. When we got to the motel, I had my first good look at his tethered dick. The head was tugged sharply down, the skin almost translucent below as it stretched between the shaft and head. Cody's foreskin was paper thin, one that stretched easily, and if it weren't for the thick ridge of the frenulum, it too would have easily ripped apart. When I checked on the condition, before devising this cruel solution, I found out about some guys, whose thin skin was irreparably severed when the ridge snapped. I gleefully noted for Cody it would be the same. It was time for the final preparations - I unclipped his cock, releasing a savage wave of pain as the blood throbbed in the sensitive skin. He cramped, tears squeezed from his eyes, but I put an arm across his meaty chest, holding him back so I could get a good look at his dork. The skin was bruised hideously purple below the head, and if we left it now, the damaged skin would still take weeks to heal. From the back, I grabbed a ball stretcher, a bulky steel cuff 2 inches thick. I flourished it in front of him, making his eyes wide, before grabbing his ballsac, stretching the smooth skin hard and clamping on the cuff. Of course the thick weight is challenging to bear at the best of times, but with his nads stretched down, this put additional strain on his stalk, already reeling from the clip. With that, I marched him inside.
Waiting for us was Horace, in position on the floor, crouching with his arse up facing the door, arms and legs apart like a colt waiting to be harnessed. He too was sweating, more from the fear of discovery as I'd left him there with the door unlocked, and strict instructions not to turn around. He tried to turn his head, and I waited, door wide open, silent, until he murmered, almost a beg "Uh, who is it?" My response, once we hustled through the door, was to slowly trace from the base of his spine down between his perfect arsecheeks. He quivered from the touch, head hanging with a mixture of relief and anticipation. To Cody I handed a regular condom - a little small for him - and told him to pull it on. And while he struggled with the latex, I kept warming up Horace's hungry tail, slipping in a thick ribbed dildo, grinding it against his love nub. Although the movie star was a regular at 13 inch dicks, he was still pretty tight - I guess the fuckers were chosen for long tools, rather than thick. That'd have to change. At least I knew squeezing Cody's thick 9 incher into his hole would still be a struggle. And that's exactly what he'd have to do. No lube of course.
As soon as the condom was on and my camera primed, I had him grab Horace's haunches and begin fucking his arse like a bronco. Well despite everything, the piercings, the cockring, the clip and the condom, he began a savagely hard buttfuck, mashing Horaces hole and making him grunt like a pig. I don't know if it was the endorphin rush, or the ache of unreleased cum, but I couldn't have asked for a better scene, Cody going crazy plowing Horse's hole. But while I got dozens of prime photos, the real object was not a cum shot at all. And then, after a few minutes of furious pumping, it happened, with a sickening scream, Cody ripped his cock out of the hole, clutching his rigid stalk. I slapped his hands away and pushed him onto the desk, Horace ignored. I peeled back the arse slime covered condom to reveal his throbbing dick. Sure enough, the skin had ripped, a near bloodless tear, like a paper cut, but mindlessly painful, as Cody's clenching fists on the table edge attested to. His breath was ragged, like a winded athlete, and he hissed as I fingered the dickflap. The edges were beginning to colour like a welt, so I picked up my cigarette, puffed a little until it glowed hot, and stabbed it out on the ends, making Cody buck with pain. Cauterized. The foreskin had slipped right back down the shaft, helped by the ball stretcher I think, and the skin was tight from the head to the base. The jock was blubbering mindlessly, scratching at the desk with pain, and I had to smack him around until he stopped. I left them there for a while, in the dank, grungy room, while I had another smoke outside. When I returned, Cody had unclenched his fists, but was still perched on the table, in pain. He was holding his shaft, obviously inspecting the rip, and he dropped it so fast when I entered that his eyes watered. Horace must've been exhausted from spending so long on his knees, and had crumpled to the floor, where he stared up at Cody, perhaps empathising with the stud's helpless pain. Then again, it could have been lust, or even malice, it was hard to read his warping mind.
If he thought that was it, though, he was sadly wrong. The fuck fest isn't over till the fat cock swings, or something like that, and with a firm hand on his shoulder, I guided him back to centre of the room. It was simple, I told them, one of them would have to cum in the other's arse. It was their choice, so long as they did it now, on camera. It was the ultimate mind fuck, getting two straight muscleheads argue over who would fuck the other. Cody was clearly the loser - if he fucked, his ripped dick could be damaged further, maybe ruined. If he was fucked, he'd have to take Horace's impossibly large dong up his manpussy, probably ripping it apart as well. For Horace the choice was easy. Endure another humiliating bruising fuck from the young bronco, who'd only just been savagely brutalising him a few minutes before, or get to unload gallons of churning cum for the first time in months. Cody pleaded to top Horace, maybe fearing two injuries more than one, or just delaying, and I put it to a wrestling match. The two were brutal - no holds barred naked struggling - and it was no contest. Horse was bigger and stronger, and the match finished with the first hard tug to Cody's balls. Before they could catch their breaths, Horace was on top of him, pushing his legs up like a two bit whore, and lining up his thick cigar against Cody's sphincter. With a yelp he was in, and his revenge fuck was no less harsh than he'd received, his cock clamped with every backstroke by Cody's glove-tight arsesleeve. When he came, it was awesome to behold, even through the lens - with a roar he plunged in balls deep, the artificially swollen sac crushed between his pelvis and Cody's arse. He unloaded so much cum it squirted out the sides, drenching both of them with hot ripe cream. As he withdrew, they were both a sight to behold. Cody, fucked, his arsepucker winking as it vainly tried to close, dickspew coursing down his thighs. Horace, collapsed on the floor, clutching his inflamed balls. Both of them covered in sweat, cum and arseslime. But best of all was Cody's prize cock - flaccid from the pain and humiliation of the arsefucking - the hood, for the first time ever, curling over the glans, trapping the precum and arseslime that had smeared over the head. His glared down horrified at his once handsome cock, the skin now wrinkling over the piss slit. "Now Cody, boys with drooping skin like that have real problems keeping clean. Especially you, since you're not allowed to touch your cock, not even to peel back the skin in the shower. Jamal will be checking to make sure. So I'd better take you back to campus, before you miss your afternoon session." He looked up, fearfully. "No, please, I'm covered in filth! The guys are already giving me wierd looks, what if they smell cum on me?" I smiled, coaxing the naked jock out the door. "Cum and arse slime cumdump. Who know what they'll do..."
As we left, I called back. "Oh, Horace, you can shower. You don't want to stink up your agent's car, riding stick shift all the way home. Sorry, private joke, something I suggested he try on you. Enjoy your trip." |
