Mike's Excursion into the Extreme

by Jay Lieberman

"Are you sure about this?"

The man's curt interrogative cut through Mike's lust-induced euphoria. Sitting here naked, in front of these three middle-aged men, his small cock hard with anticipation, Mike was at a loss for words. Here he was, it seemed, after all the time cruising chat rooms and personals ads, which he had just about given up on producing anything but geeky try-hards who just wanted to masturbate over his frank replies, then ran a mile when he suggested a meeting. Then he'd seen the ad posted by the three stern-faced, hard-bodied men standing over him, where he sat on the cold stone basement floor. Their ad had been short, sharp and to the point-

"Wanted- a boy who is prepared to give all to his Masters. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Time wasters will be ignored. If you think you have what it takes, get in touch."

A day later, he had replied, then spent two weeks awaiting their reply. After the first week he had written them off as just another group of (or more likely an individual) the same pretenders he'd been almost driven to giving up by. Why was it so damned hard to find men, real men, who knew what they wanted from a willing sub and weren't afraid to go for it? Then- you've got mail, and he was astonished to find a detailed reply, almost three pages, including a photo of the bottom halves of three hairy, stocky well-endowed men, their erect cocks twice as long as his own small penis. Excited, he devoured their reply immediately, reading their terms, their needs, their conditions and what he would have to do to convince them he was genuine.

Mike's face had paled at some of the activities they suggested; he had always considered himself a pretty open-minded sub, he'd had his share of bondage, fisting, enemas and role-play. But these guys were the real McCoy. Totally extreme, the sort of people he had heretofore only dreamed about meeting. Fighting down a rising sense of apprehension, and fear at these three men thinking he was a lying pretender, he made the vow in his reply that he demanded, and included his phone number and a rather poor quality scan of his face, taken from an old ID photo.

Another two weeks passed, and Mike spent most of the time fretting and imagining what sort of reaction he would receive. Then another email, this one only two lines. It was an address, and a phone number. They wouldn't ring him; it was his duty to do the work. It also included a date and a time- the date was today's date, the time 3 hours from when Mike finished work. He couldn't concentrate on his work, so he took the afternoon off, and went home, showering and douching while he tried to screw up the courage to ring.

At around seven o'clock, he grabbed his touchdial phone and hurriedly jammed in the number, which was from across town. He made two mistakes, and on the third attempt finally got a ringing phone, which was promptly answered by a rather irritated elderly lady. He hung up in her ear, calmed himself down, and slowly dialed the number, pausing between each number. The phone rang... once... twice... three times... four ti-

"Hello?" The voice was thickly accented; German, perhaps, or maybe Dutch.

"Ah... is this... er I mean... do you... I'm the guy you emailed..." Mike cursed himself at his clumsy opening.

"Email? What's that?" The man barked, and Mike almost dropped the phone.

"Er... your email... it said to ring this number... I...."

"Ah, you want Franz. Hold on." The man bellowed out the name, and Mike could hear footsteps approaching on the other end of the line. The phone was dropped, then picked up again.

"Ja? Kann ich ihnen hilfen?" This accent was also Germanic, but softer, almost seductive in its quiet, even tone.

"Ah... your email... phone... I mean, I was trying to phone..."

"You are Mike, ja?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm Mike..."

"Are you canceling?" Franz's tone became cold, disappointed.

"N-No- I, well you put the phone number in the-"

"Well then I expect you at eight. Bring a change of clothes, you will be here for a while."

The phone was slammed back into the receiver, and Mike started. Trembling slightly, he once again cursed himself, and rose to get ready. Pausing to grab a clean shirt and pair of jeans, he threw them into an overnight bag, and headed out.

Arriving shortly after eight (traffic was bad, as always) he looked up at an impressive three storey house, in one of the city's exclusive suburbs. A neatly trimmed lawn framed the structure, a neo-Georgian affair which showed signs of the excellent skill of the artisans who crafted it. The large wooden door had a huge bronze knocker, which Mike chose to ignore, rapping instead on the door with his bare knuckles.

A beefy man in his late fifties answered it, admitting the nervous Mike, who felt as if his stomach was about to implode. Without saying a word, he looked him up and down, and escorted him down a short hall, to a set of stairs, where they both headed down. Downstairs was the basement where Mike now sat, and it was in that room that the other two men, around similar age as the man who had admitted him, awaited his arrival.

Mike gazed around himself, as he had when he arrived. The room contained several chairs, a metal table with straps at each corner, a rack, and rows of rather nasty looking implements. Leather restraints dangled from metal hooks set in the ceiling, while the floor was of bare concrete, cold on his naked behind. They had ordered him to strip upon arrival, and had stashed his clothes in a locker. Now the three of them, wearing white towels about their waists and nothing else, stood observing him calmly.

"Again I ask, are you sure about this?" The question was asked again, by the man Mike assumed was Franz. He was a stocky German, in his late forties, and had been in the dungeon when Mike was led downstairs by who he assumed to be the other man he had spoken to on the phone. The third man was the youngest, and leanest, although he was still quite stocky. He had not spoken a word since Mike arrived.

Mike looked directly up into Franz's cold grey eyes, and nodded once. He was certain; it might not seem it, but he had dreamed of such an encounter his whole life. He had engaged in activities to enhance his submissive role; his body was totally devoid of hair, even his groin, and both of his nipples were pierced. His slender, youthful frame didn't look capable of withstanding much punishment, however, and maybe this was why the man was hesitating.

"Gut." Franz nodded, and without another word dropped his towel. The other two followed suit, revealing penises that were impressive even flaccid. Beckoning Mike to his feet, they led him to the metal table.

Franz issued a series of instructions to his two companions, who he referred to as Hans and Helmut, who complied with grunts. Mike was placed face up on the table, which rose on an angle as he lay down, so he was lying at an angle of 45 degrees. His arms and wrists were bound, while his legs were spread widely, and placed in high stirrups, so he lay as if squatting low on the ground. His naked hairless anus was fully accessible, as the men desired.

Franz glanced down at Mike, toyed briefly with his penis, then strode to the nearest rack. Fetching an item down, he returned, and bid Hans to clasp Mike's testicles. A leather band was slipped round the balls, and fastened tightly by a metal stud. Mike winced, but said nothing, as his balls were constricted painfully near the base. Satisfied, Franz returned to the rack, and fetched a blindfold. Without asking, he wrapped the blindfold around Mike's head. This was followed by a ball gag, which was rammed unceremoniously into his mouth, and tied tightly. Mike struggled a little, and earned a stinging slap on his constricted balls. Moaning, he lay still, scared beyond belief, and yet also aroused beyond belief.

Mike heard a jar being opened, and then a creamy substance was smeared around his naked anus. Two thick fingers slipped in, coating the inside walls of the rectum with the greasy lube. Mike made a muffled noise at the unexpected intrusion, and was ignored. There were no safe words here, no turning back; they wouldn't harm him permanently, but by the terms of his contract he had ceded total authority to them for the session.

The fingers dug a bit deeper, then were withdrawn. Mike heard a satisfied grunt, then felt the fingers smear the substance on his chest. Someone grabbed his nipples and twisted them harshly; Mike arched from the table and made a muffled squeal. The twisting was intensified, and accompanied by several stinging slaps directly on his balls. Mike moaned through the gag, and the nipples were released. The men moved around, whispering to each other in their own language, and Mike awaited the first onslaught.

It came soon; Franz fetched a large rubber dildo from a shelf, roughly eight inches long, and the width of a beer bottle. Rubbing the end of the dildo against Mike's shaved hole, he uttered what almost sounded like a prayer, and began to roughly insert it, not pausing once. Mike thrashed and squealed as the latex intruder powered into his rectum, stretching the anal opening wide as it invaded. Pausing two-third of the way in, Franz yanked it back out, and thrust it in again. He proceeded with this rubber fucking, each time going a little deeper on re-entry, until finally the tip of the dildo came into contact with Mike's second sphincter, forcing it open painfully. Mike was not inexperienced in deep anal probing, and no real harm was done, but it was swift enough to cause even an experienced bottom a fair amount of pain.

Hans tore a strip of gaffer tape from a roll and slapped it over the dildo, keeping it rammed into Mike's stretched hole. Making a guttural noise, Hans moved to Mike's head, which was at waist height, and removed the gag. Mike was totally unaware of who was who, and didn't know whose cock he felt pressed into his face as he gasped for air. The cock was forced into his mouth, and began to swell to its full eight inches. Mike gagged and made a muffled sound, and it was withdrawn slightly, only to be shoved back in again, driving down his experienced throat. After two more thrusts, Hans' hairy balls slapped against Mike's chin as his cheesy dick invaded his throat.

Mike gagged as he vigorously sucked at the dick, the bitter taste of the cheese under Hans' foreskin an unexpected factor. But he was determined to perform, and began to relish this humiliating oral rape, taking the invader deeply, sucking at its impressive girth. Hans began to moan, and grabbed at Mike's nipples, twisting them as he thrust vigorously into his new slave's mouth. After a few more sharp thrusts he began to come, thick stringy ropes of semen spurting down Mike's throat. Mike swallowed the strong, salty cum thirstily, and continued to suck the softening cock.

To his surprise, the cock did not withdraw. Instead, he felt it twitch in his mouth, and then a gush of hot, bitter urine flooded his cum-soaked mouth. Gagging, Mike began to swallow the strong piss, to avoid choking. His face reddened and his breathing became irregular as he struggled to take all of this man's salty urine. Hans took a little pity and withdrew slightly, allowing Mike more time to swallow. But he was going to swallow every drop, as he vowed. Mike gulped and gulped until no more came, then gasped for air as the smelly cock was withdrawn. His head spun as he fell back, exhausted.

But the three men were far from done. Helmut, irritated at being left out thus far, clambered onto the table, placing his large, sweaty, hairy balls at the entrance to Mike's cum and piss soaked throat. Mike felt the pressure, and opened wide to admit them, sucking and nibbling the smelly testicles as his nose was driven into Helmut's unwashed anus, the strong smell of shit and sweat almost overpowering.

Helmut grunted as he masturbated while he sat on Mike's face, his strong man odors almost overpowering the young man. With a gasp he came quickly, aroused by Mike's expert oral work on his balls. Cum spurted in thick creamy gobs from his cock, splattering Mike's chest and groin. Muttering, Hans shifted his position so that his anus was now directly over Mike's mouth, and moaned anew as Mike's experienced tongue snaked out to lick at his hairy hole.

Mike smacked his lips as he licked hungrily at the hole, his tongue probing deep, coming back with a light brown smear as it encountered Helmut's shit. With a little panic, Mike realized suddenly what Helmut had in mind, but before he could think about it a small turd began to slide out, the slimy brown excrement sliding down Mike's tongue and into his mouth. Mike choked the shit down, trembling with nausea, but he managed to overcome the natural urge to puke his guts out, and managed to devour two more small turds, chewing on them and swallowing as the next came.

Satisfied, Helmut leapt off his toilet and grinned down at Mike's shitcovered mouth and nose. Rubbing his hair affectionately, he said something in German, then moved away. Franz had been happy observing up till now, and when Helmet dismounted he moved forward, standing next to Mike's head.

"Do you like our gifts, Michael?" He spoke in soft, seductive tones as he stroked his eleven inch shaft.

"Yes..." Mike was lost in a wave of pleasure mixed with nausea, and could barely think straight.

"I like how you devour our piss and our shit. You will be a good slave, Michael." Franz's voice trailed off, and he moved to the foot of the table.

With a sudden movement, he yanked the tape off the dildo and tore it free from Mike's now-gaping hole, admiring how clean it was, as Mike had recently douched. Placing it aside, he sat down on a stool between Mike's legs, and lightly slapped his balls while he worked a couple of fingers into the wide hole, the lube dripping out like someone's enormous load of cum, recently deposited.

Working the fingers in gently, he slowly added a third, then a fourth, and then finally the top joint of his thumb, twisting and thrusting as Mike gasped and groaned. Franz noticed he wasn't gagged, and nodded to Hans. Hans assumed Helmut's position, and forced his hairy asshole down on Mike's mouth, releasing a large, solid turd as Franz forced the widest part of his large hand into Mike's hole. Mike made muffled sounds around a mouthful of shit, and Franz drilled deeper, his probing fingers soon encountering the second ring of muscle.

Hans began to get hard again as Mike lapped at the shit tainting his hairy hole, and Franz penetrated the second sphincter with a greasy digit. Mike moaned and tried to say something. Franz barked something in German, and Helmut grabbed Mike's balls and squeezed them hard. Mike squealed like a pig, and then quieted. Helmut gave the balls a good twist, then a slap. Hans laughed, a cruel sound, and farted into Mike's face. Mike cried out again, and Franz added two more fingers to his internal invasion.

Franz's face was creased as he concentrated on achieving maximum depth without seriously hurting the young American. He knew by now Mike was no stranger to fisting, and was determined to go the distance with the slave. Mike made more weird sounds as Franz began to work on forcing his hand past this troublesome barrier to serious anal penetration. With a sudden thrust, he was through, past the widest part, and Mike's anus began to suck at his arm, pulling it in despite Mike's pleas for mercy.

Onwards Franz drove, past the hardest obstacle, deeper into the gaping hole that would most likely never be quite the same again. He managed to get his arm in up to just before his elbow, then made a final shove and achieved his goal. Mike was beside himself in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and didn't seem to notice as the piss of Hans and Helmut rained down on his constricted genitals. Cum spurted from his own small cock as the pleasure peaked, but Franz didn't notice or care.

With a sudden motion, he yanked his arm free, a wet sucking sound accompanying the pop it made as it came out, soaked in lube and traces of shit. Nodding, Franz repositioned the hand, and thrust back in, hard. The first punch fuck tore the breath from Mike, and he gagged and choked. Hans leapt off, not wishing to asphyxiate the young man, and Mike made ragged breathing noises as Franz, undeterred, began to roughly punch fuck his new slave, drawing almost all the way out, only to return to elbow depth with full force. Hans and Helmut were both hard again, and were jacking off into Mike's mouth, which was by now a shit pit, stained with feces and cum. Stringy gobs of semen leapt from their large tools into his gasping mouth; he licked at them and swallowed hungrily as Franz jackhammered into his gaping anus.

Mike was sure this was it, for him, but was still in for more. Hans waved a broken capsule under his nose, and suddenly he was euphoric, renewed with energy, and more relaxed than ever. He began to get hard again as Franz punch fucked him, and began to thrust back. Nodding, Franz paused, and a new pressure was added to Mike's anus. In shock, he realized the man fisting him was going to force his second hand in. Begging and sobbing, his pleas fell on deaf ears (in actuality, Mike would have hated himself later if they had taken him seriously) as Franz forced his second hand into the ravaged asshole, stretching it to insane proportions as he drove in with both hands.

Mike screamed now, as they hit the second sphincter, and his head lolled in delirium. Franz powered on, forcing first one hand through, and then part of the second. This was it for Mike, who came again while screaming for mercy. Helmut let fly with another stream of piss, and Hans belted Mike's balls with a birch rod. The second hand couldn't quite force the sphincter without serious repercussions, so Franz left it where it was, driving deeper with the other, then yanking both out, leaving Mike's permanently enlarged asshole gaping, its muscles totally extended. Mike was in tears now, as the fists continued their relentless assault.

Franz removed one hand then, and began to masturbate, pointing his huge cock at Mike's anus, which was too stretched for any fucking. With a grunt, he came, his come pouring into the wide hole, his other hand pushing the creamy goo deep into Mike's bowels.

"And thus I impregnate you, my young slave. Erotic, isn't it?" Franz grunted as he emptied his load into Mike's bowels, his other hand making sure every drop was forced as deep as possible.

Mike couldn't remember what came next; the second round of toilet servitude, the mounds of shit in his hair, in his mouth, or Hans shoving handfuls of his own shit up Mike's gaping, cum-filled hole. He had come several more times, during the next four hours, as the three men repeatedly worked him, every one of his holes filled with piss, cum and shit.

It was early morning when they untied him, and carried him to a soft bed, where he was washed and allowed to rest. When Mike awoke the next morning, the three men were awaiting him, hard dicks in hand, and bowels full of a mess that needed a warm mouth to harbor it.

*****