The Volonte Stories

Gay Male Erotica by Marilyn Jaye Lewis. 

Sexual content. Readers strongly cautioned. Thanks.

  • Code
  • Alter/Soldier
  • Score

These stories have been previously published, 2020-2021, by


© Marilyn Jaye Lewis 2021

It was not just beeping, it was radiating. A signal, in red circular waves. Somewhere nearby, a man was in need of a blowjob and Alfie was determined to find him.

He used his cellphone like a compass – holding it in the palm of his hand and pointing it in slightly varying directions, finding the strongest signal and then following it until the signal weakened or was lost altogether. And then, scanning the various directions once more, his phone picked up the signal again.

Sprinter’s Alley, Alfie thought. That’s where it seems to be coming from.

That made sense. Sprinter’s Alley would be pitch dark at this hour and, as the name implied, it was easy for anyone to take off in either direction and sprint quickly out of the alley if the situation called for it. The Public Sex Administration was located not too far from Sprinter’s Alley. There was a certain thrill in knowing that, at any moment, you could get caught. Because of the decades-long perpetual public health warnings, public sex was absolutely forbidden – punishable by maximum security isolation, where a prisoner’s every move was monitored so that he couldn’t so much as jerk-off for the duration of his sentence.

But now the signal had gone dead.

Alfie stood at the south end of Sprinter’s Alley and peered into the darkness, scanning the area with his phone for a sign of life. Maybe he’d been wrong and the signal had been coming from somewhere else.

He turned to head in another direction when there it was, plain as day. Not only was the signal suddenly quite strong on his own cellphone, he could also see the red circular waves radiating from a cellphone midway down the alley.

Alfie looked around furtively and then headed down Sprinter’s Alley.  As a precaution, he turned off his phone, in case this was some sort of perverse sting set-up. He didn’t want his phone radiating.

He tried to act casual. Tried to pretend it made perfect sense for him to be walking alone, down a pitch-dark alley at this hour of the night.

“Hey,” a voice said quietly from the darkness of a doorway. “Did you get my message?”

Alfie recognized the code. All convicted public sex offenders used it when referring to the phone signal: Did you get my message?

It gave Alfie courage. He quietly gave the coded reply. “I saw that you called but I couldn’t hear what you said.”

“Good,” the voice replied almost inaudibly. What was easier for Alfie to hear was the sound of the man’s zipper going down. Before going down to his knees, Alfie looked cautiously in all directions, even though it was too dark to see anything. He could barely see the man now directly in front of him. But he decided that the alley was clear. He went down to his knees.

The stranger’s cock was out of his trousers and already thick, completely stiff. Before Alfie even had the man’s cock in his mouth, he could smell the Basin District all over it. Alfie knew what the cocks smelled like from every district except for the Upper Canal District – where Alfie was from. He couldn’t tell what any of the cocks smelled like there because he was too familiar with it.

But men from the Basin District had cocks that smelled like earth and grass and fertile dirt. Alfie took the hard cock into his mouth, sucking it up and down slowly, but with passion; remembering those smells of earth and grass and dirt from when his nose had been pressed into the actual terrain of the Basin District. He’d been face down in it – the damp earth – in the pitch-dark of a moonless night, his jeans down just enough to expose his naked ass to a Basin District man, a different public sex offender, whose spit-covered fingers had gone up Alfie’s asshole, had probed around up there, opening him, stretching him, until a spit-covered cock replaced the probing fingers and seriously opened Alfie’s ass. Each deliberate thrust of the man’s huge cock had pushed Alfie’s face harder against the damp earth, until the living smell of the earth up his nose became indelibly entwined with the feeling of his asshole stretching around the girth of that hammering cock. It had made Alfie want to cry out – the intensity of that cock’s power; the overwhelming size of it – but cries in the night were a dead giveaway of public sex, so he hadn’t dared make a sound. He’d taken the full force of that cock with just an occasional whimper.

Those were the thoughts that filled Alfie’s head as he sucked the new cock in and out of his mouth. The smells of the Basin District. The power of the men’s cocks who came from there.

Alfie’s own cock was painfully hard inside his tight jeans. But he didn’t want to risk lowering his jeans there in Sprinter’s Alley and jerking off while he sucked the man’s erection. It would be too much to keep track of if they each had to zip up and take off in a hurry. Alfie focused, instead, on just sucking the cock, hoping there was a way to transfer it psychically. The warmth of his wet mouth, opening wide and sliding the cock in and out, could be a promise of his warm asshole, stretching open instead, the cock pushing in, pulling out. In some private open field. Miles from the Public Sex Administration. Where, in Alfie’s fertile imagination, all the men were naked. Free. Available, with hard cocks and greased assholes in an unending darkness. And at times like this, when Alfie was on his knees, the warm thick dick of some unknown man filling his mouth, Alfie thought of all those imaginary cocks in that imaginary field of night, and he imagined that his asshole was the only one they wanted. One after another after another, the mysterious hard cocks would pummel into him, open him deep and unload their cum. Until he couldn’t imagine being more filled with it – all that sweat and salt and cum of lust.

Lost in his delirium, Alfie moaned all over the cock that was in his mouth.

“Oh yes,” the man gasped quietly. “Oh god.” And the stranger gripped Alfie’s head firmly and pumped his cock in deep, aiming now for that spongy soft spot at the back of Alfie’s throat. Yeah, oh god, god.

Alfie knew the guy was getting ready to come. Sadly, it was happening too fast. Still, Alfie opened his throat and took that cock all the way down, until his nose was pressed flat against the man’s coarse mass of pubic hair, until all Alfie could think of was the Basin District. The joy of it. The filthy pleasure of having gotten his ass so thoroughly fucked there. The cum seeping out of his burning hole that night as he’d walked the long way home.

Oh god, the man grunted repeatedly, as he held firmly to Alfie’s head, jerking sharply against Alfie’s face, his cock wedged clear down Alfie’s open throat. The man was unloading his balls in spurts and streams and Alfie took every bit of it. Every drop. Until the man abruptly pulled out of Alfie’s mouth, zipped up and, without uttering another sound, was off down Sprinter’s Alley, into the anonymous night.

Alfie slowly stood up, his eyes watery, his nose runny from the force of the man’s eruption down his throat. He wiped his face with his sleeve and then turned on his phone and looked at it. He scanned the whole area for even a faint signal.


He left Sprinter’s Alley and walked back out onto the street. Soon, his phone did pick up another signal. This one gave out staccato blue waves. A man wanted to suck a cock, not have his own cock sucked. It would maybe do in a pinch, but Alfie kept scanning the distance, hoping to find an orange signal that was looking for an asshole to fuck. Or a green signal – a man who was looking to be on the receiving end and get a cock stuck up his own ass.

Or, best yet, a signal that was almost never sent out – Code Purple. Which meant there was a small group of hardened public sex offenders gathered in the abandoned sewer tunnel in the old Meat District, a rank end of town where only the truly depraved or truly deprived ventured, because that’s where the gangbangs happened. Down in the abandoned sewer tunnel.

Alfie had gone down there only once. At the time, he’d felt lucky to survive it. Afterwards, though, he dreamed only of repeating it – of finding that rare Code Purple signal radiating on his phone once more and then finding his nerve to follow it down.

Alfie walked for awhile and scanned the signals in the night. He didn’t really feel like having his cock sucked. He wanted much more than that. He wanted Code Purple – even though it unnerved him at the same time. To be at the mercy of the hardened, desperate men who had nothing left to lose, who took whatever holes they wanted with unbridled force, with relentless abandon; shoving their cocks in and forcing their captive prey to cry out. Sometimes Alfie felt as if he had nothing left to lose, either. Who wanted to remain in a world where every act of public intimacy, or even comradery, was an act of defiance? One punishable by imprisonment if caught. When Alfie recalled his own prison term – three months in maximum security isolation, his every move monitored, not even allowed to touch himself – it seemed far better to go down in a rambunctious blaze of innumerable cocks and warm assholes, wet mouths and even greased-up fists…

Alfie glanced down at the sudden signal radiating on his phone. Finally. An orange signal. Depending on where the signal was actually emanating from, it could be that the night was not yet over.

Walking east, he followed the signal as it got stronger. He was heading into the Market District when the signal grew very strong.

It was promising. The Market District was filled with stalls and storefronts boarded at night – plenty of nooks and crannies that provided potential privacy, especially in the dark.

Once more, Alfie scanned the darkness for an orange signal radiating from some nearby phone. And there it was. Coming from a dark doorway behind a shuttered stall.

Alfie walked casually in that direction. Until a quiet voice said, “Hey. Did you get my message?”

And Alfie said, “I saw that you called but I couldn’t hear what you said.”

“Good,” the voice said. “There’s a stairwell here.”

Alfie’s cock lurched to life again inside his tight jeans. A stairwell. It would be dark and dank but it meant privacy. At least a modicum of it.

Alfie walked in the direction of the voice, going behind the shuttered stall, meeting the shadow of the man in the darkened doorway. “Down here,” the man whispered. And Alfie followed him, the stranger carefully helping Alfie down a dark set of old sagging wooden stairs.

They did not dare to venture all the way down, where there would be no exit out; they only went down halfway. And the man’s voice was full of excitement when he told Alfie, hoarsely, “Turn around.”

Alfie turned around, facing the darkness of the old stairs, and he felt the man’s hands come around to the front of him and unbutton his jeans for him, unzip his zipper and then, to Alfie’s fear and delight, the man pulled Alfie’s jeans down – all the way down, passed his knees to his ankles. Alfie felt as good as naked. It was a feeling he rarely ever felt.

The man’s rough fist gave Alfie’s erect cock a couple of swift tugs and it was all Alfie could do to keep from groaning out loud. Then Alfie heard the man’s zipper go down and could feel that the man’s cock was now out of his trousers, too. Clearly, the stranger was not going to join Alfie in his half-naked and vulnerable condition – only the man’s cock was out – but Alfie didn’t care. All he cared about now was the engagement, the feeling of the hard cock pressing against the tight flesh of his exposed backside. Warm skin against warm skin.

“Try to bend over,” the voice urged him quietly. “These stairs are rotting, but do the best you can.”

And Alfie did just that: he bent over, feeling in the darkness for a step below him to grab hold of. Alfie knew it was going to have to be quick, but he was going to try to sear every moment of the coming penetration – the cock-contact, the impalement – into his brain so that he could return to that slab of a bed in the silence of his cubicle and re-live what was about to happen over and over in his head, with his dick in his fist. Orange signals were not sent out often – they were dangerous.

Alfie felt the man’s large hands separate his ass cheeks; felt the man’s warm erection slide teasingly up and down the crack of his spread ass. Alfie’s asshole was exposed now in the dark, his own aching cock hanging down, swinging free. Then he felt the warm cockhead, slick with spit, press into his asshole and push it open. Alfie gripped the sagging wooden step and grunted – he couldn’t help himself; the cockhead had pushed into him swift and deep. With sudden force, the cock had Alfie opened up all the way and, without hesitation, the man launched into the savage rhythm of fucking Alfie’s ass, until both men were hard-pressed to keep the lusty sounds of their nefarious pleasure from escaping them.

Oh god, Alfie groaned deeply under his breath every time that cock hammered into his hole. And he clutched that step, taking the full force of the man’s power without falling over. Yes, Alfie thought; oh yes, he shouted freely in the privacy of his own mind. Fuck me, he thought; just fuck me; keep fucking me. Oh god. And his mind slipped back to the abandoned sewer tunnel in the old Meat District. And as the cock hammering into his ass now, filled his balls with a pressure he could hardly stand, his cock feeling ready to explode, Alfie let the fire of Code Purple engulf his memory. There had been a cock hammering into his ass then, too. But there’d been a cock filling his mouth – opening his throat. And another man’s mouth took Alfie’s own stiff cock all the way down at the same time… Men combining and re-combining, and then re-combining again, until every man in that sewer had emptied his cum into every kind of warm, pulsing, opening hole.

That had been a night filled with sounds – the freedom of human sounds and fearless contact. Yes, Alfie thought; fuck me. Fuck me. He could feel that the man was on the verge of coming and his mind urged the stranger on. Alfie’s asshole was thoroughly open now and riding the incoming cock, pushing hard against it as it pushed its way up him. Oh fuck! Alfie thought. And the stranger came, gripping Alfie’s hips tight, emptying his load deep inside Alfie’s opened ass – jerking it out in steady spurts, making complete contact.

When he was done, the man pulled out of Alfie and quickly zipped his dick back inside his trousers. Then he helped Alfie pull up his jeans. Alfie still had a hard-on, though, that he managed to stuff behind his zipper. Then they cautiously went up the old rotting stairs in silence and parted immediately, phones in hand, once they were out of the dark doorway, heading to the street.


© Marilyn Jaye Lewis 2021

As usual, in the lab the lights emanate from everywhere yet nowhere. However, this time he’s strapped face-down to the cold metal table, his legs spread; it doesn’t matter what he can or cannot see. He’s naked. His heart is pounding. The pain is coming. There is no stopping the pain from coming.

“You’ll forget all of this,” he’s being told again. “So what is the sense in killing the pain?”

To get through this moment would be a good reason.

He thinks, but he doesn’t speak. They’ve temporarily paralyzed his tongue, his jaw, his throat. In fact, screaming will be impossible, too.

The bottom half of the table drops down suddenly. A loud bang. Then the edge of the table raises up, lifting his backside up with it, spreading him apart.

The pointed tip of a large metal syringe is unceremoniously stuck into his anus. He grunts.

The slimy-goo squirts up his rectum, until he feels uncomfortably filled with it. With slime. With goo. The syringe is quickly pulled out and he can hear the suction of it – the demeaning sucking sound of the tip of the syringe, exiting his anus as a trail of slimy-goo escapes, oozing down to his balls.

He struggles against his restraints, even though he knows it is pointless.

The cock that is going to enter him is not human. And it will be fiery hot. And it will be enormous.

There is more than likely a long line of these inhuman cocks behind the first one, because his asshole is once again their evening’s recreation. But strapped face-down in this way, he cannot see them or how many of them there are this time; he cannot see anything except the white tiled floor directly below the table.

The slimy-goo is meant to render his sphincter incapable of closing. In some strange way, this is supposed to be a benevolent gesture to him – a partial easing of his ‘discomfort’ so that his sphincter will not have to be forced open again and again and again. But really all the goo does is make the recreation more pleasing to them – to the alien cocks that will plough deep up his ass, set him afire and split him open.

He knows he has endured this pain and humiliation before, even though they attempt to wipe his memory clean afterwards. Fragments always remain. His mind remembers that what is about to happen is only vaguely ‘unpleasant’, but his body, his cells, seem to have a memory that can never be wiped clean; so, on reflex, he struggles at the restraints and anxiety fills him.

A pair of leathery hands push his ass cheeks wider apart. He feels the tip of what seems to be a red-hot poker entering his asshole, but the tip quickly expands to the full width of a monstrous, burning cock. It pummels easily into the slop of slimy-goo they’ve lubed him with, forcing his asshole to open around the unbearable intrusion. And then the cock bulges and thickens, opening him wider – and then wider still, until the whole length of his rectum is full to bursting with the enormous fiery log, pummeling up him, breaking him in.

He can do nothing but let it breech him clear up through his bowels.

The pain is excruciating. His tongue spasms; his mouth, his throat, contort but cannot scream. It is too much pain this time. His eyes roll up into his head and, with a sudden release of all strength, his soul escapes. His consciousness barrels toward the ceiling and, before passing through it and leaving his alter personality – his clone – behind for good, he takes in the travesty below him.

The beast knows he has fled his body. It’s as if the beast can actually see his consciousness, hovering up there at the top of the room, because the beast looks right up at him with a lascivious grin, its split tongue slithering in and out of its mouth, as it pounds away at the pitiful asshole, the enormous fiery log of its cock shoving mercilessly in and out of the alter, who is still strapped down to the table but limp now, lifeless.

Then the lab and the scene of gory sodomy disappear completely from view. His consciousness is suddenly snapped with great speed up through the ceiling and back into the primary personality.

*     *     *

Calvin wakes immediately and is in his primary consciousness, alone in his sleeping tube. He has no clear memory of just how long his alter had been gone from him, but he feels the noticeable psychic expansion of having it back.

An amber glow fills the room – it is still nighttime. He has been asleep in his uniform and now has an erection in his form-fitting trousers that is fierce. It needs to be released.

With a whoosh the clear glass tube opens. Calvin gets out of the sleeping unit and leaves his quarters. In the brightly lit hall of the ship, he heads for the cubicle room. An eye scanner releases the door and Calvin goes in. A number of the cubicles are occupied by other horny, sleepless soldiers, but he finds a vacant cubicle at the far end of the row.

Once inside the cubicle, the opaque shield firmly closes and Calvin quickly tugs his snug uniform trousers down his thighs. His erection springs free and he guides his aching cock into the warm suction tube in the wall, working his balls in there with it. The force of the suction immediately pulls his dick all the way in and then forms a vacuum-tight seal around the coarse brown hairs that blanket his pelvis.

Calvin holds tight to the handles on the wall above the tube as the sucking sensation begins. It feels so good. The length of the warm tube is a pulsing, rolling, squeezing, tugging tunnel of tight, slippery rubber, with an indented shelf near the inner entrance of the tube that cradles his balls and gently massages them, tugs them, too; milks them like small tender udders.

Calvin’s grunts and groans soon join the chorus of the other moaning soldiers sealed into other cubicles in the pristine row of quantum glory-holes. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the lurid pictures rising in his brain, easily forgetting all about the other men in the room.

He imagines his cock is pleasuring the slippery tunnel up some other soldier’s ass, instead of just a suction tube. But as he does this, the pictures in his head become surreal.

A lab of some kind, in some alien ship. That weird lighting they’re said to have that seems to come from everywhere and yet nowhere. There’s a white tiled floor.

He’s seen this lab before – maybe even been on this ship – but he can’t remember when it would have been. Throughout his space detail, he’s been assigned to the same Allied Forces ship – the one he’s on right now.

The suction tube feels too good to waste time trying to make sense of his scrambled thoughts, though. He just wants to relax into the pulsing pleasure tube and let it tug his thickening cock deep into whatever filthy pictures unfold in his head.

Calvin sees a metal table in the lab now. A naked human male is strapped to it, spread-eagle and face-down. The bottom half of the table has been lowered, but a rim juts up just enough to raise the guy’s ass invitingly, spreading the guy’s legs apart in the process. It is too tempting. The lab is otherwise empty. At least it seems empty.

The man strapped to the table is curiously silent, but very much alive. Calvin approaches the backend of the table and examines the proffered naked ass.

The hole is pouting open, as if it’s become accustomed to being well fucked, and that enticing rectal opening is dripping with an alien goo. Calvin has never seen a substance like it and is not entirely sure he should stick is dick into it, but the way the hole sort of winks at him, even quivers a bit – it is too much to resist. Calvin slides his erection into the asshole. It’s a nice fit. The slick hole stretches easily and readily accommodates Calvin’s thick tool, sucking his cock all the way in, squeezing it like a snug slippery glove and tugging his cock-skin up and down, up and down as Calvin starts to fuck it.

In the cubicle, Calvin holds tight to the handles on the wall because the suction of the quantum tube has increased in intensity, sensitive as it is to the heightened energy emanating from Calvin’s cock. He keeps his eyes closed, though, and just holds on; not wanting to lose the sensation for even a moment.

His thoughts swoop back into the lab; the strange goo up the guy’s ass now feels alive with its own lapping, tugging, massaging motion. Calvin quickly realizes the goo is full of conscious alien particles; photons and electrons that seem alive with their own distinct lust. The goo is perhaps even more alive than the human heat inside the guy’s ass. There is a distinct motion to the goo, and it has an increasing heat of its own.

Before long, though, the heat lapping at his cock has intensified – it’s starting to feel almost too hot. And the man he’s fucking, strapped down as he is, grunts in a rousing and captive way, which only makes Calvin feel hotter.

He is feeling the full force of his own lust now – it’s either that, or the fiery alien goo is stoking his dick to new heights. Maybe so. The goo is so unusual. Either way, in a fit of arousal, Calvin scoots up onto the table and really hammers at the helpless man’s hole, supporting himself with his arms at either side of the man’s head. The man’s backside is unfamiliar to Calvin, but there’s a scent to the man now that he’s up close to him, and something about the man’s head; it seems eerily familiar – as if maybe he’s fucked this guy before. But before Calvin can give it too much thought, the guy manages to angle his ass up and lets Calvin get in there really deep. The guy’s liking it! The invitation is sublime. It makes Calvin straddle the man, planting his knees at either side of the guy’s hips so that he can really get some momentum; really go at that hole good.

And just when he thinks that maybe he’s going to come, Calvin becomes acutely aware of a tongue on his balls. A tongue.

It feels split – reptilian. It darts all over his balls but then quickly slithers its way up to his asshole and goes right in. It’s a pretty strong tongue; he’s never felt a tongue like it. It easily pokes its way up his rectum; licking, wiggling, swirling up inside there.

Calvin feels delirious. He sinks his teeth into the neck of this vaguely familiar guy battened down tight to the metal table. He continues pumping hard into the guy’s asshole but now the slithering tongue is working deeper up his own ass; then working itself in and out, like some slippery, slithering dick – and he realizes the man underneath him, as Calvin’s teeth sink deeper into the guy’s neck, is groaning fiercely; as if more from pain now than pleasure.

But Calvin’s own pleasure is too intense, it electrifies him. He can’t help but bite the man’s neck harder, fuck his ass deeper, as the slithering tongue up his own ass seems to thicken, licking and swirling, really exploring the depths of his hole. He’s never known anything to feel this good.

And now it’s as if the alien goo up the guy’s ass is really coming alive; it’s got a grip on Calvin’s cock, tugging it, pulling it, completely encircling his throbbing cockhead and sucking it deeper in – while Calvin pounds away in a frenzy, feeling as if he could breech the man’s very bowels before he will feel satisfied.

Then, just as Calvin feels he’s going to come for sure, as if his balls will literally explode now, the reptilian-like tongue abruptly pulls out of Calvin’s ass and a monstrous cock, a cock on fire, plunges up his asshole, ploughing in to the hilt. Calvin’s jaw finally loosens its grip on the guy’s neck, as he lets out a bellowing oh god!

He’s never had a cock up his ass that was so hot and so huge. It begins fucking him mercilessly, just as the goo up the guy’s ass forms a tighter grip around the head of Calvin’s cock, feeling now like a slick sucking mouth – as if a part of the guy’s insides has formed into an actual mouth and is sucking vigorously on his cock. His balls finally erupt.

Calvin’s eyes spring open as he ejaculates into the quantum suction tube, but his asshole feels pummeled and raw, like he’s just gotten fucked. For real.

He pulls his spent dick out of the tube and glances down at the floor. There by his feet is a pool of cum. Not his. He came into the suction tube.

What the hell? How did that get there? He’s still alone in the cubicle.

Spooked, Calvin quickly tugs up the trousers of his uniform and realizes that cum has managed to drip in there, too. Inside his trousers. And it’s burning hot…

The opaque shield to Calvin’s cubicle slides open and he hurries out. The row of cubicles looks the same. But wait. Maybe just a little bit different. And the room is empty. The other soldiers are gone.

The door that leads out to the hall of the ship slides open now and there they all are, waiting for him – their monster cocks hanging free; their long reptilian tongues darting in and out of their gruesome mouths. And it’s the white tiled floor again. They close in on Calvin, shredding his uniform, until he’s naked and feeling torn asunder by too many leathery hands clutching at him, groping and probing him. He just catches sight of the metal table as they drag him, unable to scream, into that strangely lit room.


© Marilyn Jaye Lewis 2020

It seemed like they were trying to save him, but Radical Zombie Saviors are tricky that way; one moment they’re saving you from an all-out attack, the next minute your asshole’s impaled. I wasn’t sure Finn wanted to be saved, still, I stayed in the safety of the alcove – in the shadows – and I watched. I waited to see if saving him for real was going to be necessary.

I hated to admit it to myself but I was already hard. I knew that would piss him off, but I couldn’t help it. He always looked so fucking hot when he was in over his head.

Almost immediately the Radical Zombie Saviors showed their true intentions; they had Finn trapped, his trousers down to his ankles. Then his cotton whities – whoosh – right down they went, too. I’d sort of seen it coming, but even I wasn’t expecting it to happen this fast. And now he wouldn’t be running anywhere, with all that stuff bunched around his feet. I was as good as winning this one.

“Colton!” he shouted out into the eerie blue dark, his panicking voice echoing up in the domed ceiling – “if you don’t come help me, I’m going to fucking kill you, motherfucker!”

It was an empty threat, of course, because now they were bending him stark naked over the altar – which suddenly seemed conveniently low. His hole was at perfect dick range. It would just be a moment. Just one moment. That was all that would be required for one of the Zombie Saviors to pull out a hard dick and press the fat tip of it against Finn’s suspiciously open asshole (that guy’s always so fucking eager, I thought to myself; he is such a dick-slut); the head of the Zombie Savior’s cock didn’t actually have to go all the way in…

Bingo. There it was. A Zombie Savior-cock, touching Finn’s hole.

I pulled off the headset. “You lose,” I said. “Suck my dick.”

Finn pulled off his goggles and I could see he was going to try to argue his way out of losing. But he knew he lost. “Come on,” I said, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head down toward my crotch.

“Stop it,” he said, batting my hand away. “I can do it by myself. I know the way.”

“I know you know the way – loser.”

“Shut up,” he said, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at me – his vanquisher. He was a good loser after all. “But what bothers me,” he said, as he positioned himself between my hairy thighs, spread them wide and got comfortable, “is why you always get so fucking hard when you know I’m losing.”

“It’s because I’m so happy for you.”

“Happy?” he scoffed indignantly, then he spit quickly into the palm of his hand and took hold of my shaft, his wet tongue landing on my balls at the same moment and getting them sloppy wet in no time.

“Yes, happy. I know how much you love to be the helpless bullseye in a gangbang.”

Finn snorted out a laugh. Not at all self-consciously. “Fuck you,” he said, and then most of my sac got sucked gently up into his hot mouth, his tongue rolling my balls around in there. It felt good to win. His slippery grip on my shaft slid the skin up and down with just the right pressure. He actually was no kind of loser at all.

I put the headset back on and pressed CONTINUE. “I’m going to let them go hard on your ass, if that’s okay.”

Finn hummed his reply around the balls that were stuffed in his mouth and I took it as an agreeable ‘yes.’

The game resumed all around me, in creepy 3D slime-oozing ultra-violet. I was still in the shadow of the alcove, watching, but I was able to zoom in for an up-close and personal view. One of the Zombie Saviors had come around to the front of the altar, grabbed both of Finn’s wrists and was pressing Finn firmly down against the sacred table. The one who’d had his dick out before was now down on his knees between Finn’s naked legs and promptly began rimming him. The Finn who had my balls in his mouth groaned at just the right time: The Zombie’s tongue was getting deep into the 3D Finn’s asshole.

Oh shit. I groaned now, too. The suction of Finn’s mouth pulled on my balls, until the spit collecting in his mouth oozed out and drooled down into my own asshole. I felt the sudden unexpected pressure of Finn’s finger slide in.

Don’t,” I said. He was an expert at finding that P-spot. “Don’t make me cum! I won. I get a real blowjob. A real one – stop.”

“Okay,” he conceded – although with some reluctance. But within moments, good loser that he was, he had his finger out of my ass and my aching cock sliding into his mouth.

“Oh yeah,” I said. I instantly felt delirious. I was so hard and had been for a while already. Then I watched the Zombie Savior’s cock grow to enormous proportions before my eyes. It was thick and fat and huge, slimy and putrid green – unlike anything Finn’s asshole could handle in real life, although I knew – dick-slut that he was – he would probably give it his best shot.

I rubbed lightly on my nipples while I worked my cock deep into Finn’s mouth, feeling the head move easily past his vocal cords and press firmly against that soft spot at the back of his throat. “Oh yeah,” I said softly, suddenly thrusting my cock deeper down Finn’s throat – going an extra half-inch, then a little more. Finn cried out around my cock, gagging a little, but keeping me in there, which suited the drama in my headset perfectly: The Zombie Saviors had Finn spit-roasted. One huge slimy-green cock was shoved way down the 3D Finn’s throat, just as the Zombie Savior between his legs stretched Finn’s asshole impossibly wide and slooshed his huge cock right on up, penetrating deep into Finn’s 3D bowels.

It was perfect. It looked so real. “Christ,” I said, getting a serious winner’s blowjob now. Finn was taking me deep down his throat and it spasmed around my cock. “You look so good at the mercy of huge fucking cocks,” I sputtered. And Finn grunted some sort of reply that vibrated around my cock head and I knew that if he kept that up, I was going to cum. “Don’t make me shoot yet!” I begged him, even though he’d already paid the full price of losing. “That one huge Zombie Savior-dude has you down on all fours, and he’s ramming you straight through, Finn. Oh god. It looks incredible. And you’re rimming the other one like you’re totally loving it. Your tongue is going way up in there – oh shit! The other one’s cock just plowed right up through your fucking mouth, dude! Up your ass and right out your mouth. You are totally impaled.”

I was twisting my nipples now, and pushing deep into Finn’s throat. The spit was drooling out everywhere, his throat gagging all over the length of me.

Then, for a moment, my dick was out of his mouth while he caught his breath. And when he sucked my dick back into his mouth, that finger of his was up my hole again. It slid right on up and found my P-spot like it always did. “Fuck,” I said, as I watched the monster Zombie Savior cock pull out of Finn and then shove all the way back in, going impossibly through him and out his mouth. The Zombie fucked the 3D Finn in rhythm to Finn’s actual finger up inside me, pressing on that spot, rubbing it, pushing it, making fucking love to it – it felt so good. “Fuck!” I blurted, as my cum shot its hot trail up out of my balls and into Finn’s mouth, down his open throat – just as the Zombie Savior’s cock let loose with a geyser of his own milky cum that was spurting forcefully out of the 3D Finn’s mouth.

Oh shit,” I cried, helplessly. It felt like I was coming in bucketloads – I was pumping and pumping the stuff right down Finn’s throat – when Finn slid a second finger up my ass and started fucking me while I came. “God, oh god. It feels so fucking good to win, Finn, you fucker!”

And just as I thought my balls were emptied, a Zombie Savior was suddenly right behind me, his huge 3D cock pushing right up my ass – stretching me open, forcing me open all the way up. “Christ!” I said, gasping. “Christ!” It felt real. Totally real.

I pulled off the headset only to find that at some point Fin had put his goggles back on. The two fingers he still had up my ass, fucking me hard, felt impossibly huge – nothing like two fingers should feel. “Christ!” I cried out again. “Finn – you fucker. Oh Christ.” It felt like a fucking horse-cock up there. “Goddammit, I’m cumming again. I’m fucking cumming again. Dude – oh, fuck.” It was a dry cum, but my whole body was shaking like crazy.

“Finn. You cheated!” I cried out, trying to catch my breath; trying to get my hole to quit quivering around what felt like a 3D log up my ass.

“No, dude,” Finn said triumphantly. “I won.” He took off his goggles and smiled at me. “Consider yourself fucked, Colton. I scored.”

He pulled his fingers out of my ass and said, “Put the headset back on. Go on. And turn over. You know the drill, loser.”

Panting, covered in sweat now, I turned over and put the headset back on, while Finn put back on his own goggles.

I was still in the alcove, but now I was stripped naked and staked out face-down against the cold stone floor. It was covered in ultra-violet sewer slime, and as I felt Finn’s hard cock push up into my asshole, it became the Radical Zombie Savior’s cock: The massive cock. The slimy oozing monster cock was stuffed up into me and I felt it climbing in deeper, up and up, stretching me open, until I felt the monstrous thing push clear up out of my mouth.

The world of author Marilyn Jaye Lewis

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