Authors: Todd Young
He began with his fingers, trying first one, then two, and finally three fingers, before he moved onto the deodorant bottle. When Mitchell grunted and said that was comfortable, Tadd picked up the lube and dribbled it again into Mitchell’s crack. He began with the cologne bottle, something that was a little oval shaped, though Mitchell had said it should be okay. It hurt at first, and Mitchell winced, but in a few minutes it was sliding back and forth easily enough.
“That should be okay,” Mitchell said.
“Yeah?” There was a rise in Tadd’s voice, as though he was a little excited, and Mitchell smiled, his face turned away from Tadd on the mattress.
Tadd began with his fingers again, grouping them together and sliding them in and out before he shaped his hand in the way Mitchell had shown him.
“That right?” he said, holding his hand in front of Mitchell’s face.
“Yeah,” Mitchell said, and he closed his eyes, wondering what it would look like. He wanted the image on his phone. He wanted to see Tadd’s wrist in his ass, and even imagined Tadd’s arm. It was something he had seen on the net, and he wanted to know what it looked like, knowing that it was him.
Tadd began slowly, as gently as possible. Mitchell felt him sliding his hand inwards, unable to tell what was what, though he gritted his teeth as the pain intensified.
“I’ve got a knuckle in,” Tadd said.
Tadd sounded excited about it now, like it was something he wanted to do. Mitchell bit his lip, and winced again, but began to feel the pleasure through the pain.
“Two knuckles. Oh, hell, Mitchell. This is going to happen.”
Mitchell gritted his teeth as he felt an extreme pain. Tadd pulled back a little, and as he pushed forward again, Mitchell came unexpectedly, feeling at the same time as though he was out of control, as though his body was doing things that he had no control over.
Tadd pressed forward again, and through the roaring in his ears, Mitchell heard, “Oh, wow!” as Tadd muttered under his breath.
Something happened inside Mitchell, something that made him feel as if he would break. He shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth a little harder. He turned his face into the pillow and bit on it.
Tadd pulled back again and Mitchell felt as though he had lost all control. He almost cried out, but as he spat the pillow out of his mouth, Tadd pressed forward again, and Mitchell was momentarily paralyzed. Suddenly, something gave. And with it came the blossoming of an exquisite pleasure.
“Oh, wow!” Tadd said.
Mitchell could feel it now, Tadd’s whole hand sliding into his ass. He tried to catch his breath. “Are you filming it?” he said, panting.
“Hang on. It’s going in properly now.”
Mitchell had thought that was it, but now Tadd seemed to be pressing his whole arm forward. Mitchell tried not to cry out, but he couldn’t help it.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He was breathless.
“Fuck! My wrist’s in there. My fucking wrist is in your ass.”
Mitchell’s body spasmed involuntarily, jittering as though he had no control over it, and then he was coming again. The orgasm seemed to last forever, to go on and on.
Mitchell relaxed.
“I’m pushing it in a little more.”
“Are you filming it?”
“Yes.”
“Slide it in and out a bit.” Mitchell felt beyond care, though as Tadd did what he said, pulling out and pushing forward again, the pain overtook the pleasure. Mitchell winced and opened his mouth wide, feeling as though he might dislocate his jaw. Now it was too much.
“Do you want me to pull it out?”
Mitchell grunted, and felt suddenly sick. All he could think of was the image on his phone, of having it and being able to watch it.
Tadd began to pull back again, and Mitchell felt as though his insides were being peeled away. He felt suddenly panicked and twisted his shoulders.
“Hold still,” Tadd said.
Mitchell grunted. He felt Tadd push forward a little and twist his wrist, and again Mitchell came, the cum pumping out of his cock and into the mattress, where everything felt cool and slippery; he was lying in a puddle of it.
Tadd worked at Mitchell’s ass, pulling and pushing and twisting his wrist until his hand seemed to come out in a rush.
Mitchell caught his breath. “Is there blood?” he said.
“No. It doesn’t look like it.”
Mitchell closed his eyes.
54
“You want to see it?”
Mitchell shook his head. He was lying on his back, his knees pulled up. Tadd moved away from him, putting the phone on the night table. He left the room and didn’t come back for what seemed to be a long time. When he came in again, Mitchell felt as though he was living in a dream. The pain was so intense that he didn’t think it was possible. He put his hand down once, but there was no blood. It wasn’t pouring out of him the way he imagined.
Tadd had a razor and shaving foam, a bowl of water and an ice-pack. Mitchell closed his eyes. Not now, Tadd, he felt like saying. Please don’t do it now.
Tadd climbed onto the bed and moved Mitchell’s legs apart. He sprayed the shaving foam onto Mitchell’s groin and spread it out over the top of Mitchell’s cock, the only place where Mitchell had any pubes. Tadd shaved in four or five quick strokes. He rinsed the shaver in the water, and shaved it a second time.
“That’s smooth,” he said, running his fingers over it.
Didn’t Tadd know how much pain he was in? Didn’t Tadd care?
Tadd put the ice-pack onto Mitchell’s groin — a thing they had talked about — a thing Mitchell had suggested. He had said his balls would pull up into his groin, and he wouldn’t get a boner, most likely.
Somehow, the cold felt soothing, though what he really wanted was to ask Tadd to put it on his ass. It felt like it was on fire.
Before he knew it, the ice-pack began to hurt. It was too cold. Too cold compared to the heat in his ass, and Mitchell was going to ask Tadd to take it off when Tadd did.
“Oh, look at that!” Tadd said.
Mitchell opened his eyes and saw that Tadd had picked up his phone again. He was filming Mitchell’s groin at its worst. Mitchell closed his eyes.
Tadd shuffled backwards on the bed, and then Mitchell felt the warmth of Tadd’s mouth on his groin. Tadd was sucking, sucking on his cock, his whole mouth wrapped around Mitchell’s groin. Tadd began to explore with his tongue, though Mitchell felt that he didn’t care, that he didn’t care about anything. If only it was over now, if only the pain in his ass was over now.
Tadd sucked and slurped and groaned. Mitchell opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the bed. At least Tadd was getting what he wanted, he thought. Was Tadd pulling himself off as he sucked? It felt like it.
Suddenly, the sensation of Tadd’s tongue on his cock began to arouse Mitchell. He felt the first stirrings of an erection and tried to fight against it. He didn’t want one. He didn’t care. And Tadd wanted him to be soft.
Inevitably, though, it happened. Mitchell’s cock hardened, and Tadd began to suck on it, moving up and down the length of it, holding it between his lips and rotating his tongue.
Mitchell gripped the sheets with his hands. He was going to come. He heard Tadd groan, and at the same moment he came, his cum pumping into Tadd’s mouth. Tadd didn’t move. He sucked, sucking the cum out of Mitchell’s cock and swallowing. Mitchell couldn’t smile. He knew that it felt good, but he was in too much pain. The thought that Tadd had swallowed his cum flitted across his mind, but it was like he was disconnected, in another place.
Tadd was jerking on the bed, jerking and groaning. And then finally, he lifted his head. He pulled his legs up onto the bed, sitting on his heels between Mitchell’s knees.
“Oh, fuck!”
“What?”
“Your face.”
“It hurts pretty bad.”
Tadd closed his eyes and nodded.
55
“You lied,” Tadd said.
It was hours later, deep into the night. They were lying in Tadd’s bed, the lights off, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“How did I lie?”
“You said it wouldn’t hurt me — what you wanted to do — but it did hurt me. It hurt me because it hurt you.” Tadd reached forward and kissed him again, kissing him on the forehead. “I love you.”
“Yeah. I feel the same way. Now we just have to find someone who gives a fuck about you.”
Tadd started to laugh. “You do love me, don’t you?”
“I’ve said so.”
“I’m never doing that to you again.”
Mitchell sighed.
“You see. You’re happy about that.”
“Hell, Tadd. It still hurts. It’s going to hurt for days.”
“You hate yourself.”
“What?”
“That’s why you want to do it — things like that. It’s because you hate yourself.”
“I don’t hate myself.”
“You do. You just don’t know it.” He hesitated. “That stuff — stuff like that — it’s because you have no respect for yourself. You want to be used.”
Mitchell remained silent.
“You have no self-esteem.”
Again, Mitchell was silent.
“It’s about your cock, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“This whole thing — wanting to be hurt like that — it’s about your cock. You think you’re a freak.”
“I know I’m a freak.”
“Hell, Mitchell, when are you going to get that idea out of your head? I like it. I love you. Do you think I think you’re a freak?”
“No.”
“You see?”
“I suppose so.” Mitchell stopped. “But I do like the feeling.”
“What? You liked that?”
“No. I mean — kind of.”
“You like it now?”
“No. But I will later — when I think about it. When I look at the movie.”
“Hell, I’ll erase it.”
“Don’t do that.”
“You haven’t even looked at it.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Because you feel like shit. You’re in pain.”
Mitchell nodded, his head against Tadd’s chest. “Maybe ...” he said.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know I’m right.”
“I’ll want to look at it later.”
“You need to get rid of it, Mitchell. I’m never doing that again — and nothing like it.”
56
Mitchell woke early in the morning with his arms around Tadd, the two of them held in a loose embrace. Mitchell lay like that for minutes, drawing his head back so that he could see Tadd’s face and watch him sleeping, breathing steadily. He didn’t want to move, but Tadd must have sensed some change in the way Mitchell was holding him, because he woke gently, opening his eyes.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“What time is it?” Tadd said. Mitchell lifted his head and looked at the clock. “Five fifteen.”
“Hell.”
“Yeah.”
“We better get going.”
They parted and Tadd stretched, stretching his enormous chest. Mitchell liked the look of him naked. He watched Tadd get out of the bed with a morning boner, the size of it unbelievable.
“You want to hop in the shower?”
“With you?”
“Yeah,” Tadd said, as though Mitchell must have been crazy if he thought Tadd meant anything else.
Mitchell got out of the bed. He had a boner also, though there was nothing unusual about that. He looked down at his groin and said, “Shit!”
“What?”
“How the hell am I going to go to the meet today? Get in the showers? I haven’t got any pubes.”
“It looks good.”
“Tadd.”
“Well, it does look good.”
“You think the guys on the team are going to think that?”
“Hell, Mitchell. Who’s going to care what anyone thinks?”
“I care.”
“We’ll say you got shaved. I’ll make out like someone shaved you — like it was me and a couple of the guys.”
“I don’t see how that’s going to work.”
“I’ll do it somehow.”
They stepped into the shower together and Tadd closed the door.
“You know, I kind of like your boner,” Tadd said as he turned on the faucet. “I did like sucking it.”
“So you don’t care if it’s soft or not?”
“I like it better soft, but it doesn’t really matter. You want me to wash you?”
“If you want.”
Tadd pulled Mitchell under the shower head and hugged him until they were wet and warm. And then he had Mitchell stand against the glass while he soaped his back. When it came to his ass, Mitchell lifted one leg.
“You look like a dog.”
“It hurts.”
“Here,” Tadd said. “Turn around.”
He soaped Mitchell’s chest and abs, his arms and fingers, his thighs and his groin. Mitchell looked down again at his cock and balls, at how his groin had been shaved. He closed his eyes as Tadd tugged him under the shower. Then Tadd washed his hair and conditioned it.
He was finished, so Mitchell started on Tadd, discovering all over again how big Tadd was. By the time he got to Tadd’s cock, Tadd had lost his boner, and Mitchell soaped it, his cock heavy and floppy. He had to wish again that he had something like this, though that wasn’t possible. The only good thing was that he had found Tadd — someone who liked him the way he was.
Tadd rinsed himself under the shower, letting Mitchell swish the water over his chest and back. Mitchell shampooed and conditioned Tadd’s hair, and then they turned the shower off.
“I have to go to my place,” Mitchell said. “Start the day there. Eat breakfast. Get ready.”
“Are you nervous?”
“I don’t know how the hell I’m going to swim — with this pain in my ass.”
In the bedroom, Mitchell picked up his phone and sat on the bed. The first thing he found was the movie Tadd had taken of his groin.
“Shit. I look like a girl,” Mitchell said, frowning at the site of his cock and balls retracted, his pubes shaved.
“Show me.”
Mitchell handed Tadd the phone.
“You don’t look like a girl. You look like — you.”
Mitchell took the phone back and found the movie he wanted to see. The sight of it made him sick, Tadd’s wrist in his ass, sliding in and out. Hell, no wonder it hurt, Mitchell said to himself. He could barely stand sitting on the bed. Still, there was an attraction to it — something that he liked.
“You want to see this?”