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It Began With A Tat 2
Emile 2010
Usual caveats apply - Please obey the laws of your jurisdiction.
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It was time for Riley's debut. They'd been toying with his porn name all day - Rancid Riley, Raunchy Riley, but finally they'd just settled for Riley Ringbusted. It was, too. After days of brutal fucks and inhuman dong stretching, his once tight snatch had been chocked open like a Christmas turkey, ready to be stuffed.
But these guys knew that details counted. You had to set the scene. A Beach Scene, to be precise. So below the glare of hot studio lights, Riley was lounging on towel, on a 10 x 10 foot pile of sand, a poster of clouds behind him. And like your average muscle hunk slut, he sported mirrored aviator sunglasses to hide his drug addled pupils, a bright blue thong strapped over his leaking horsecock, and a big toothy shit eating grin. And he was slowly rubbing lotion over his naturally sunkissed skin, making the ink glisten. Of course they'd had to feed him a cocktail of treats to get the aching abused kid 'in the mood', but as the cameras rolled, he looked on top of the world. From the sidelines, the greasy dude, playing director, called the action. "Okay puckerboy, now work your hands down and begin mauling that meat" With a practiced hand, Riley pushed his meaty paw down over his pecs, down the valley of his abs and over the impressive bulge in his thong, spreading his legs as he did, giving the camera a balls eye view of the action. He thrust his head back, moaning - not cheap acting, but genuine uncontrolled lust, fueled by hundreds of dollars of blow. Pretty soon his grabby hand was almost wrenching the silk strap away from his tackle with his kneading hard groping, nearly lifting his body off the towel as his arse thrust back at his hand. He'd been well drilled - in every sense - and without a word from the director, his other hand joined in, both tugging at his package, only he hunched forward, shoulders arched, so it could continue its journey over his slick body, fingers pushing the thong away to expose his cavernous hole. The audience only got a glimpse though, as he involuntarily gasped, pursed his fingers and began roughly fingerfucking his own hole.
The camera zoomed in, focusing first on his chiseled face and masculine lips, before panning down past his filthy ink collar and down over his broad smooth chest, the fine dimples of hair roots still visible from where they'd been ripped from his skin, over his incised abs, lingering on the cheesy tat half covered by his restless forearms, and finally down to his bloated porker, now peeking out from the micro thong, far too big and juiced up to remain hidden for long. Juiced, despite the thick foreskin hood that now sleeved the fat crown, making his dork look like a thick stump, roughly sawn away. The nectar welled and dripped like sap from the stump, slowly coating his grabby hand and smearing his shiny thong with goop. The camera dropped lower, getting a close up of the corrugated hole that slipped into view with every backstroke, the distended arselips clinging to his clump of thick digits. They'd made Riley practice this for hours, especially after one of the porn stars had flooded his hole, until he learnt just how far to pull back to make the arselips hoover his growing fingernails, before plunging back full depth again.
He'd cried constantly the first few times, the pain in his chute was intense from the hours of furious pumping that those fuckers needed to offload, and there wasn't one guy that wasn't as long as Riley's forearm or as thick as his wrist. Benji, who was both long and thick, stood over him to train him, slapping his nuts if he didn't plunge his fingers in the moment another guys fuckslab withdrew. If he wasn't thorough enough to coat his fingers with their leaking goop, there'd be hell to pay. Not right away - even if he was doing it wrong, Benji let him cram his own hole for a few minutes, slapping his nuts hard to let him know he was fucking up. Then, when he was really exhausted, Benji would slap his arm away, and fuck the raw hole some more, just to make him really scream. But the real punishment was the fingernails. They kept them pretty short, so he couldn't do real damage to the others, just long enough that the tips would graze skin if they were dragged along, like when he had to play with his nipples, or fingerfuck his own hole. Just enough that he was constantly jabbed or nicked by his own furious thrusting. But finally he'd learnt, and no matter how sloppy, or sore, or painful, he pummelled his pudding like he was mixing batter, stretching his fuckhole wide. It made great cinema - young cute and buff on top, dirty slut trash below.
"Okay, cue the crew" the guy called. The buyers weren't after a wanking flick, no matter how hot. On cue, two huge men walked forward from behind the camera, revealing the rippling flesh of their backs, a pair of matching square cut black swimshorts with "RINGBUSTERS" in white lettering across their haunches, and two pairs of matching black boots. When they got to Riley, still lost in his own arousal, they each raised a foot, pressing their soles on Riley's inseam, and firmly pushing his thighs down and apart. On film, Riley's face registers real shock - between the drug haze and his own leakage, he hadn't seen the pair until they were right on him. And in seconds, they were. "Looks like we got a real cock slut" one sneered, as they both bent down either side of him, holding his thighs down with their hands. One grabbed at the thong, pulling it off him, revealing his naked junk to the lens. Riley hated this almost more than anything. His whole tackle completely exposed, front and centre, shaved inked root, pulsing sheathed drippy head, even his abnormally long stretched nads. But that wasn't the worst of it, by far. The first thug leant in, pinching the drooping dickskin. "Now, public nudity, how are we gonna punish this?" he said, rolling the flesh in his fingertips. All Riley could do was groan.
What came next they'd practiced all week. At first they'd tried a lawn scene, wielding croquet hoops and mallets, they'd stretched his nuts out and hammered a hoop in over them, pinning them to the ground, with an extra 'tap' for good luck, which landed squarely on his nutsack. He writhed about in agony, still pinned by the balls to the springy grass. Even when they'd tapped his wrists and ankles to the lawn first, and then gone for the goods, he still bucked too much for the cameras. And then there was how to fuck a guy that's been spread eagled and nailed to the lawn. Next they'd tried the gym, and then the pool, nothing quite combined the fuckfest with just the right amount of grinding humiliation. Sometimes, the best ideas are the simplest, which is where the beach came in. Of course, this was the first shoot, so Riley had no idea what was planned. Still stuffing his hole with his fingers, he watched, slackjawed, as one of the hunks leaned in and straddled his body, his corded muscle only inches from Riley's own. He put his hands wide on the sand, lowering himself into a squat so he could tonguefuck Riley's face, and give the cameras a good look at his muscular covered arse hovering over Riley's junk. The guy began grinding his porker against Riley's own, fiercely tonguefucking him at the same time. It had the right effect, Riley was getting so horny he was almost bursting to cum - he hadn't been allowed since he came, and now the other guys fingers encircled his cockroot to make a tight flesh cockring, to stop him from cumming now. It would've been hard anyway with his nutsac so low.
But that wasn't the humiliation, that was just the foreplay. The squatting dude rolled on to one arm, still tongue raping Riley, and took his free meaty hand off the sand, reached down and wrapped his hand around Riley's own. Riley jerked stiff at the action, tense but trapped. Slowly, the guy worked his hand down, fingers tracing Riley's own, until his fingers, too, were pushing their way slowly, relentlessly, into Riley's tightly stretched hole. Not just thick fingers, but thick, sandy digits, whose silicon ingrained flesh would rub Riley raw. Especially now he started fucking their hands in and out together. Was it an accident? Did the guy realise? Riley was bucking wildly now, desperate to unlock his jaw from the brute, and tell him he was fucking sand into his hole! But then another hand slid across his body, from the other guy. Palm reaching for his fat twitching exposed cock. Covered in grainy sand... The first guy pulled off his face, collapsing onto his side, fingers still stuck up Riley's hole. Riley was yelping now with each thrust. "Fuck yeah" the first guy roared "just you wait til we get to a'fucking. You wanna get away from this shit, well, you can stick your head in the sand all you want!". The palm wrapped itself around his bloated porker, slowly beginning its sandpaper toss. Riley's hands shot up, ripping past the arseprodder, to protect his sensitive skin. "Whoa there" the first called, and quickly he felt arms grab his biceps, levering his arms upwards with brutal precision. In a moment, his wrists were held wide by a third thug, and his massive dork hung over his face, dickleak dripping onto his lips. "okay fuckwad" Benji said from above him, lowering his horsedong over Riley's face, so he could begin gently facefucking him from above. "For that stunt, these dudes ain't just gonna piledrive your worthless hole, they can double fuck you at the same time. How's about it boys, you feel up for sharing a Hersheys kiss?
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