Forgotten Memories

Sighing, I rolled my eyes as my Kindle flashed to make me aware of the low battery. It was starting to deplete in battery quicker and quicker, I would need a new one soon. The older models lasted for years while these new ones could only last a few months before starting their slow death.

"Sup, nerd." Marc cheered behind me, making me aware he had finished his usual morning workout.

Marc and I had a usual routine, but this was the first time he had called me a 'nerd.' Before I could speak, he slapped my ass hard with an open palm that made me jump from where I leant over the dining table. The squeak that left my mouth was the only thing more embarrassing than the way my cock twitched at the comment and contact. My cheeks burnt a crimson, and I kept my head down, hoping he would go for a shower and I could ignore the desire between my legs.

Moving through the kitchen, he opened the fridge and cabinets, but I kept my head down. We had banter, throwing words to each other that we wouldn't accept from other people, but this was different. The reaction this time was also different. I gulped a dry mouth, letting my hair hide my face.

As the rattle of his protein shake bottle came closer, I was surrounded by the smell of his body. His masculine, earthly smell of sweat had grown quickly to be my favourite scent. His post-workout scent overpowered the dull undertones of last night's deodorant. No matter how many of my female friends told me men smell disgusting, I couldn't help but be more drawn to Marc after workouts.

A large, damp arm wrapped around my neck, pulling my head close to his sweat-soaked chest. He held me tightly, keeping me bent awkwardly as he took gulps of the thick powdered milk. A memory from a time I didn't think I could remember sparked into my brain, playing out a time as a boy being held like this by a bully.

Tommy laughed as he continued to mock me, holding me tightly to his body in a counterfeit one-armed hug. I knew what he was doing; mocking me and holding me in this way meant that I couldn't escape. I wouldn't want to escape, even with how awkward the position had become on my twisted spine.

My eighteen-year-old body betrayed my brain into enjoying the feeling of having such a strong, attractive peer holding me against him. Tommy would never touch me, a faggot, without having a group of peers to laugh at me and confirm his popularity.

"Come on, Jimmy," I cringed at the nickname but didn't correct him. "We're friends, right?" I nodded and chuckled nervously. I knew we weren't, but maybe I could trick him into being my friend, or more.

Later that night, my eighteen-year-old body was hard in seconds thinking about the treatment, but I had forgotten about the mocking and loud jeering as I got older and actually had sex. I always had an attraction to stronger, cockier boys, the ones who were destined to bully me.

At this moment, however, the smell, the feeling of being held against a stronger man while I couldn't get away, and the humiliation of having a handprint of pain on my ass pulled me back to that juvenile moment of my youth.

Attempting to calm myself down, I took deep breaths and pushed against his hard, overworked chest, but he didn't relent. "Are you hard?" As his words left his mouth with a chuckle, I twisted out of his arms with practised ease to gulp a dry mouth.

Nervousness raced through my body, my legs felt like jelly, and I wanted to run away as quickly as possible, feeling like a kid again. "What was it, huh?" I looked at my boyfriend with a confused face before he continued. "Did me calling you a nerd get you hard?" He asked with a cocky, arrogant smile.

"Are you looking at me pissing?" Tommy jabbed while standing at the urinal.

I wasn't; I was looking up at the ceiling, trying to avoid the group of boys I knew would try to bully me somehow. I would never look; they would never let me live peacefully again, but I wish I did. I wish I could look and feel it, but instead, I imagined the men in my magazines were Tommy.

"No, Tommy, why would I do that?" I asked defensively, knowing if I acted sly, then I would look more guilty.

"I dunno, probably to get hard. Do I make you hard, Jimmy?"

"Nothing, uh, just you," I stated in a flustered tone, chewing my lip in nervousness.

"You're lying." He smiled before taking another drag of his shake.

"It just... Uh... I don't know." I attempted to brush it off by walking away, but he followed with haste.

"No, no." He followed, losing his shake in his chase behind me as both hands wrapped around me to pull me close to his hard body. His scent kept me still so I could enjoy it for a moment longer. "Tell me what's got you so hot and bothered. I think as your boyfriend, I deserve to know how to get you so hard so quickly." His lips peppered soft kisses to my neck, pampering my skin with fusses of lust.

"I told you, you," I answered, tipping my head to give him better access to my skin, begging for more attention. His hands released me as did his lips, leaving me confused and frustrated, thinking I would get what I wanted while dodging a bullet.

"I don't believe you, and if you want me, then you're going to have to tell me." The realisation I had a thing for being bullied while dating cocky, arrogant men who didn't mind teasing me should not have been a surprise upon reflection.

Marc was everything I wasn't: loud, extroverted, and would rather solve an issue with his hands, or his fists if the situation demanded it. He was perfect for me, I loved him and everything he stood for. He was an arrogant prick who bullied me while calling it 'banter.' Our mornings started with his workout routine while I read my Kindle, bundled up in jumpers while he showed his body whenever possible. And I loved it. And he loved me over everything else. I knew his teasing words were jokes and he didn't mean them, especially after a prank where I faked a crying fit because of his words, and the loud and proud man was on his knees begging for my forgiveness.

When I didn't answer, his workout top came off to expose his body. His bravado was on display, and I had to force my eyes away from his solid, carved body to look at the much less interesting wall.

"You wanna know what I think?" He asked with a smirk.

In return, I gave him a sarcastic gasp. "That must be your first thought of the year! Well done!" I replied, the fear and need in my shaking and high-pitched voice.

"I think you like being a nerd with no way to fight me." My cheeks burnt again, and I tried to hide it with a fake ego.

"And why would being taken by a brute make me hard?" I asked, my tongue becoming dry just hearing the words come out of my mouth.

With a hard hand, I am pushed in a direction he wishes me to be in. It hurt my chest as his body was coated in a heavy layer of muscle while I found it difficult to put any weight on. Marc had always thrown me around, carrying me from room to room where he wanted me and bear-hugging me when I tried to leave bed early. This, however, was different. This was a painful push, not romantic, and just a show of strength.

"Because that's what I am, a fucking brute." His voice dropped an octave lower, and I felt my knees become weak. "What does that make you?" He asked in a pointed tone, forcing me to speak for myself as he walked closer to trap me between his body and the wall at my back.

"That makes me a..." I struggled to speak, panting in excitement as my brain left me as my cock began to take over my body.

"Say it." He demanded, pushing my hair away from my face and forcing me to look at him, but my eyes refused to look him in the eyes.

"I'm... a nerdy... faggot." I whispered in a hushed breath not knowing whether I wanted to cry or cum in my pants.

I didn't know why I said it; why did I want to say it? My cock ached as the words left my mouth. I couldn't explain why I would want to say it. I should have felt disgusted with myself, but I didn't. I wanted to give him more fuel to the fire, scared of his reaction and enticed by his response.

"I'm glad you're finally getting it." A hard push on my shoulder forced me onto my knees and face to face with a large cock trapped under his workout clothes. I sit, frozen in my space. "What's wrong, you're a faggot, you should enjoy a cock in your face. Suck it." With a hand on my head pulling me closer, I melted under him and swiped my tongue over the cotton.

Sucking on the fabric dragged a moan out of my body as the taste of his salty sweat filled my mouth, dancing on my taste buds. Feeling him bully me into tasting his sweat made me shiver, and my body wished for more. I knew he wouldn't hurt me, but the sudden shift in our dynamics due to the role play caused my body to react as if he might.

Pulling on the cloth, I gasped as his cock sprung freely into my face causing him to chuckle as it slapped my face. The heavy heat on my face made me feel burning eroticism, and I wanted more. With his cock resting on my face, I sucked his sweaty balls and groaned feeling the sweat being cleaned by my tongue.

"First time I've seen you smile outside of having your face in a book." He muttered under his breath.

Now sucked clean, I sucked the tip into my mouth, lapping at the tip wishing to feel precum on my tongue. My tongue followed the ridges of his cock, dipping to trace the edge of his cock head to tease and taste him. I loved worshipping cock like this, having a weighty cock in my mouth and a hand tensed in my hair is where I feel most euphoric and like a faggot.

"You take more than that, come on. Make it good, and I won't tell everyone how much of a faggot you are." He barked, and the order forced my body to answer his command.

I had to practice at the beginning of our relationship to take his full length in my throat, and even now, I had to take a moment to collect myself before I could. When I didn't take him deep enough, quick enough, my head was pushed forward and his cock was stuffed down my throat. I gagged, and he moaned in response, my throat tensed and clenched around him which only made his hips jump forward for more. My nose against his shaved pubes, his smell filling my nose as his cock filled my throat.

Pulling back, I sucked as he fucked into my throat, relaxing into his thrusts. With saliva pooling in my lap, I could finally look up at him with his own blush and hanging jaw, beautiful on such a disciplined man falling apart at the seams. Having my body used felt so perfect, knowing I was being used for another person's pleasure while having such disgusting words thrown at me, humiliating me for his pleasure.

His cock is pulled from me and my body drank the air available watching the string of spit connect me to the shining, red cock. "Come on, faggot, show me how you act." He pushed my head to the side, holding back, I know, but still enough to force me to move.

I pulled at my belt with a quick need, my nimble fingers opening my clothes to be a faggot for my brute to use me how he deserves. I barely pulled my trousers over my fleshy ass before a heavy hand pushed me onto the floor, and large thighs crowed mine to keep my legs still and my fight still.

"I'm going to fuck you, and you're not going to fight me on it, faggot. You know a nerd like you couldn't fight me even if you wanted to." The thought had not come into my mind to fight him. I panted thinking about fighting him, having my face pushed into the floor deamingly to keep me from fighting.

As his hands pulled at my cheeks, opening my hole to him, I pushed off the floor and tried to get away, but I couldn't get far, feeling a hand on my head pushing my head against the wooden floor. I couldn't move my legs or my head, stuck under him as he spat onto my hole. I silently thanked anyone who was listening for having fucked only a few hours previously so my hole was tight but achingly ready for cock.

"I said not to fight me, faggot." The tip of his blunt cock tapped my hole, and my hips couldn't move from their position as he kept me in place.

As he pushed in, his large cock stretched me over him and I whimpered through the pain. I felt like I was being split in two around his tree log-sized cock which seemed to feel bigger each time he fucked me. I could feel his hips against my ass, and his cock fully inside of me with a divine feeling filling my body.

He lets go of my head, wrapping a thick bicep around my neck and tensing to push on my windpipe. It felt euphoric to feel him start to thrust, short and stabbing thrusts deep inside my body as he chased a quick fuck rather than keeping it soft and dragging out the pleasure. This wasn't romantic, this was a quick fuck so he doesn't get caught fucking the hole of a faggot, and it was perfect.

I held his arm against my throat as his thrusts pushed me forward and kept me bouncing against his strikes. The tip of his cock pounds against the perfect spots inside me, forcing pleasure through his cock, and my choked moans forced out of me.

"Can't help yourself, can you, faggot? All that matters is having cock in your ass." He whispered in my ear, his tone dripping in pseudo-disgust and scared lust.

"I'm just a faggot, I can't help myself." I return through gritted teeth, my body forcing the words out of my body to spark more desire out of my gut.

The pounding of his cock makes me cock drunk, submissive, and pliable. I felt too weak to move under his heavyweight fucking into me more like a fleshlight than his boyfriend. His thrusts are punishing, he's fucking me like he doesn't like me, like he's using me. I whimpered, clinging onto him, but ultimately, I had no control in this situation.

"Fuckkk..." He growled into my ear, spanking my flesh and making me jump and shout. Another handprint mirrors his others, my skin red and prickling as the sensual pain races through me.

He reaches down, holding my tight, thin stomach as he forces his palm against me. I cried out as I understood what he was doing. He was feeling himself pounding into my body. Feeling his cock thrust in and out of my body from the outside. It feels seedy, dirty, and so exposed to his need to claim me, ruin me, destroy me.

The pace changes and I know he's close, his hand wrapped around my cock and I whimpered as my neglected cock is taken into his hot, tight heat. His fist matched his pounding, both sides of my pleasure being forced to reach climax for him. I dig my nails into his arm as moans and whimpers fall from my closed throat.

"You want me to cum inside you, faggot? Want me to fill you with my cum? Is that what you want?" His words pull ropes of white lust to fall from my cock, fucking into his palm with tight thrusts unable to fuck the tight fist as hard as I wish because of his heavy, pushing body.

As my hole clenched tightly around him, he cums into my hole, painting my body with his pleasure. My insides are painted with his need, my body containing his desire, and I can't stop it.

Panting in my ear, he attempted to catch his breath and refocus his efforts to be something other than a brute. It's a beautiful bliss, and I enjoy the moment until his bicep is tense against my throat, pulling me up to him tightly. Heavy kisses are pressed against my cheek and neck in quick succession, breaking a laugh out of my chest.

"You." He kissed my temple. "My love." Another kiss upon my face. "Are." More kisses. "Fucked." More kisses. "Up." More kisses and I laughed again.