Turned out by Black Belt Daddy

I was running late when I pulled into the parking lot and was surprised to see just one other car. I parked directly in front of the self defense studio, jumped from the car and strode to the glass door entrance. It was locked. I noticed a handwritten note taped just above the handle which read, "7pm class cancelled due to instructor emergency."

Inside I could see the digital wall clock with bright red numbers showing 7:23pm. I cursed loudly and then noticed a shadow moving towards the door.

It was a tall man with broad shoulders, shaved head and rugged features sporting a neatly trimmed dark beard and mustache. He said something but the glass door prevented me from hearing properly.

He noticed my puzzled look, so he cracked the door open and repeated himself, "Are you a student for the Krav Maga orientation class?" While the tone was polite, his voice was deep, masculine and commanding.

With the door now wide open, this 6 ft 2 inch man filled the entire frame and his gray long sleeve compression shirt advertised a muscular torso, flat stomach and strong arms. He had black jeans and matching running shoes, and his thighs were stretching his jeans to their limit.

"Yeah, I signed up for the class online about a month ago and paid a deposit. I drove 30 minutes to get here not knowing about the cancellation." I'm sure I looked and sounded pissed.

The big man smiled politely and extended his arm to shake my hand while introducing himself, "My friends call me Mack, and I'm sorry you didn't get a text or email about the cancellation. I'm the owner of the place and hate to see disgruntled students." He smiled with bright teeth and demonstrated a crushing grip while shaking my arm roughly, practically pulling me through the doorway. He released his grip and ushered me into the hallway as he continued his apology, "First, let me check your contact information in the system so you get properly notified of future schedule changes, which are rare."

He had closed and locked the front door and curtly directed me to follow him. I found myself following a man towering 5 inches above my diminutive stature. The entire studio was empty and dark and smelled like any other well-used athletic facility. We passed wide open spaces filled with thick mats, punching bags, mirrors and other equipment before he turned and started up a staircase. I found myself admiring his well developed back and shoulder muscles bulging as he climbed the stairs ahead of me. He turned, caught me staring, and said, "I didn't catch your name?"

"Oh, sorry, my name is Paul Whitten, and since you're closed for the night, I don't want to put you through any more trouble." I already regretted entering the building, and reached for my phone but realized I must've left it in the car.

"Nonsense Paul, it's no trouble, the computer is in my office and I need to make things right." I detected a hint of sarcasm when he added, "You already lost 30 precious minutes."

We had reached the landing on the second floor, still no lights but my eyes were starting to adjust to the dimness. I tried to be more assertive and said, "I was already running late and totally understand schedule changes happen. I just expected a text or email as a matter of courtesy, that's all. I'm sure as the owner you're concerned about social media and customer reviews.*

He stopped short and turned to face me. I almost bumped into him and now suspected my jab about social media angered him. He glared at me and raised his eyebrows as if to say "choose your next words carefully."

I began to stutter a clarification, "I, uh, I didn't mean to say that, Mack, it's been a long day and I guess I'm just tired."

To my relief, he nodded, smiled broadly and wrapped his right arm around my shoulder like I was his best buddy, and turned towards the office while chuckling, "I'm personally going to make sure you leave me a five-star rating, young man!"

He pulled me even closer to his chest as he walked forward. I was astounded by the solid muscle of this man's arm and torso, and he held me close while I awkwardly stumbled next to him, my left hand pinned against his muscular thigh. I started to feel emasculated by the way he was holding me.

He kept talking as if it was perfectly normal to walk down the hall holding another man pressed against his side. "I was stopping by the studio to do some paperwork because my evening date fell through, but only after my instructor cancelled tonight's class, otherwise I would've covered for him."

He turned another corner and, to my relief, released his hold as he stepped through a doorway into a dark office. Surely he would be turning on a light. I nervously said, "I can hardly see anything, is there an office light that we can turn on, or did you forget to pay the utility bill?" I felt my face flushing in the dark after this lame attempt at humor.

Mack didn't laugh, and I couldn't see his face until the computer monitor came to life and an eerie blue glow filled the small office. I could see a tidy desk in the middle and a large leather couch on the side.

While standing and leaning over the desk, Mack clicked a few keys and motioned for me to step over to the screen. I was uncomfortably close to him. He stood behind me, placed his left hand on my shoulder and pointed at the screen with his right hand and his head was just behind mine when he said, "There's your registration information, Paul, please confirm everything." I could actually smell this stud's musk because he was so close. It was manly and I strangely felt myself enticed and drawn to it. He was definitely in my personal space and I didn't dare take my eyes from the screen. I checked the information on the monitor.

His face was now so close to mine I could feel the whiskers of his beard and he quietly spoke while both of us were looking towards the screen, "You need to scroll down to check the email and phone." He roughly placed his right hand on top of mine and firmly guided the computer mouse to scroll down. I briefly looked down at his hand which dwarfed mine. He had strong sinewy fingers accented with dark hair. He kept his hand on top of mine for a bit too long, then released it after the scrolling came to a stop

With a firm grip still on my shoulder, Mack asked me in almost an inaudible whisper, "Do we have the correct email and phone, Paula?"

What the hell? Did he just call me Paula? No, I didn't hear him correctly. He must've said "Paul."

I ignored the comment and said, "Everything looks correct to me, Mack." I straightened up from the desk and awkwardly tried to step away, but he didn't budge and his hard body blocked me, keeping me boxed between his athletic torso and the desk.

I turned to look back and tried to sound firm, "I'm not sure this type of class is really for me." I shuffled around wanting to move towards the door but Mack just stood there, ignoring my movements and not allowing me to fully turn from the computer monitor. I turned my head again to ask him to step back. I could see he was still staring at the screen.

Ignoring my discomfort, he nonchalantly said, "But your enrollment questionnaire says your interest in the course stems from being mugged at knife point, so that must've been scary for someone without any self defense skills."

Okay, he was still engrossed in the enrollment data, and his small office just added to my uneasiness. I relaxed a bit and answered his question, "Yeah, it was scary but we were out late at night in the wrong part of town, so it was just bad judgement."

"You weren't alone?"

"No, I was with my fiancee, so it was humiliating as well as frightening, and she left me a month later." I had no idea why I was sharing such intimate details with this dominant stranger standing too close to me.

"Yeah, most women are naturally attracted to men who can protect and defend against aggressors, with or without weapons." He was speaking softly to me as if we needed to remain quiet in the darkened office, and his piercing blue eyes turned in my direction, studying me in the glow of the monitor.

He leaned his head closer to my ear, as if sharing a secret, and whispered, "Some men are just naturally submissive, and aggressors can... frequently... sense it. The key, Paul, is deciding when to walk away, when to fight back and when to submit. Sometimes it's safer to acknowledge the other man's superior strength or power."

Oh God this man's voice and aggressiveness was making me feel light headed. He was insulting me and yet I stood there, frozen in the moment. I took note he didn't call me "Paula". His hard body was actually pressing into my back. Alarm bells were going off in my head. My rapid pulse was approaching fight or flight mode. I realized my cock was starting to get hard. What the hell was happening?

Luckily Mack backed away from me and pivoted towards the door, so I followed thinking we were headed for the studio's exit. Instead he pushed through an adjacent door and found myself in a locker room,

Mack announced, "Now let's get you changed into gym gear."

"Uhh, what do you mean? I didn't bring any gear with me. And it's already past 7:30 so I think I'll be heading home."

I turned towards the door but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path, and placed both hands on my shoulders and in a very quiet, low voice, said, "I'm going to give you a private orientation lesson, Paul, which is usually four times the cost of a group lesson. I've got three black belts, including Krav, and there's still 30 minutes left for tonight's training block."

As he was talking to me, his steel-like arms and vice grip were pushing me farther into the locker room. He stopped next to wall of white uniforms. He reached to his side and grabbed a martial arts vest and matching pants.

Throwing them to me, he said, "These are clean and for private clients, let's change and hit the mats. No need for shoes or socks." He turned and grabbed what I assumed was his instructor gear.

"I don't know Mack, I'm sorta feeling uneasy, maybe I should just go home."

Flashing a disarming smile, he responded in a soft tone, "I like to think of myself as a role model instructor, Paul, and something tells me you'll be a role model student. Just 30 minutes with me and you'll discover another part of yourself that you couldn't imagine before tonight. In fact, the instructor who cancelled tonight's class started out as one of my private students. I helped him discover himself, too."

I found myself hypnotized by his low, sultry voice, and the sexual implications both offended and aroused me. As if reading my mind, Mack peeled off his compression shirt.

Holy shit! This muscular, rugged man who must've been 20 years older than me had a jacked torso that reminded me of super hero drawings. Mack's pronounced pecs featured dark hair and his washboard abs looked like cobble stones.

While facing me, he kicked off his shoes and started to unbuckle his pants. I turned away and started to change with my back to him. I didn't want him to see my underwear because I had a raging boner. I managed to don the vest and pants. Both seemed two sizes too large. Mack had finished changing and was holding the door open. His uniform top was sleeveless, accentuating his incredibly sculpted and powerful arms. I followed him downstairs in the dimly lit hallway and entered a door marked "Private Instruction Studio."

The room was windowless but had an entire wall with blue LED strips above, running the length of the wall. The opposite wall consisted of mirrors which reflected the dim lighting. There was a large punching bag on the left side, and thick mats lined the entire floor. A rack on the wall held numerous training devices and punching gloves, and towels were stacked on a small chest by the door.

Mack noticed me looking at the lighting and explained, "We found blue lighting best simulates nighttime... it promotes realism for training scenarios." He turned and shut the door with a heavy thud.

I gulped, realizing nobody would ever hear a call for help if this man wanted to hurt me.

Mack approached me expressionless and gently grabbed my right arm, guiding me to the center of the room. He let go of my arm and centered himself across from me.

"Let's begin with a baseline assessment by checking your responses to an aggressor, and don't worry, I'll make sure you don't get hurt. But, since I like to simulate real life events, we need to have a safe word if you get uncomfortable. Do you know what I mean by a safe word, Paul?"

I was relieved to hear these ground rules and nodded my head.

"Ok, Paul, so what safe word do you want to use?"

This seemed like such an easy question, but I had to think for a few beats before responding, "How about 'tsunami'?"

Mack smirked, "That'll work just fine," and continued explaining, "Okay, if you use the word tsunami, I'll pause the assessment, once. If we decide to continue and you say the safe word again, the simulation is terminated."

"Please understand, Paul, I'll be role playing, and my coaching and lessons learned are addressed afterwards. I've found this is the best method for a baseline assessment. I'll be testing your patience with both verbal and physical expressions but I'm confident you'll gain a better understanding about yourself, alright? Do you have any questions?"

I was nodding throughout, and kept reminding myself that the safe word was tsunami, and hesitantly answered, "No, I don't think so."

"Good, we begin NOW!" Mack's features immediately hardened, he took three steps backwards towards the punching bag. Then, with blinding speed, he whipped his right leg around and upwards, smashing the bag with a roundhouse kick. His movement and speed had so much force it was like an explosion, making the heavy bag rock backwards.

I was stunned by this display of strength. With his back to me, he continued to pound the bag with a series of expert punches, kicks and jabs. After two full minutes, Mack stopped and walked towards me. His arms were even bigger now, and he had a slight sheen of sweat on his arms and shaved head.

He squared off and yelled, "Whatta you looking at, asshole?" With his left arm, he pushed me backwards. I was caught off guard by his role playing, and astounded by his strength. He kept moving towards me, and I was moving backwards until I felt the wall behind me.

"Hand over your wallet, NOW, or you'll become my next punching bag!" Mack pressed his entire body against mine, glaring down at me. His vest was partially open and his hard muscular chest was at eye level.

His dominance was causing my cock to stir, and I was totally overwhelmed by this scenario, so I stammered, "Uhhh, what the fuck? My wallet is in the locker room."

Mack had assumed the role of street thug when he pulled me away from the wall and twisted me around roughly, holding my head in the crook of his left arm. He was squeezing my neck tightly, but I could still yell out if necessary.

"I'm not playin' games, Butch, I guess we'll do this the hard way, starting with a search of your so-called locker." As he finished this comment, Mack slapped my ass so hard it sounded like a gun, and I yelped out loud.

He had his head next to mine, and was whispering between gritted teeth now as he roughly opened my vest with his right arm, "Yeah, Butch, that's right, I'm in charge, whatta hiding in your locker?" He was patting me down with his right hand while holding me against his athletic body with his left arm around my neck. He was breathing heavily against my right ear and his beard was rubbing into my neck. His right arm ripped open my vest, exposing my hairless and flat chest, then started to slide his hand downward. The pants were so large they were only being held up by a drawstring cinched at the waist. He yanked on the drawstring, releasing the knot and the pants dropped to the floor.

I protested, "What the hell, Mack, get the fuck off of me!" I tried pulling away, then placed my legs against the wall and shoved backwards using every bit of strength I could muster. He didn't expect this move and lost balance momentarily, causing him to loosen his grip around my neck.

I twisted and elbowed him in the chest. I heard him grunt as I managed to lunge away from him. Is this part of the assessment? Was he gauging how much fight I could handle? I was now standing there in just my white boxer briefs.

I turned back and saw Mack standing there smirking at me. He slowly turned away and it sounded like he was talking to himself in a low whisper, and he was removing his vest. "Oh, this is getting interesting, I've got a scrappy toy that wants to play tough," he whispered to himself.

He threw his vest on the floor and turned back towards me. His muscular and hairy torso on full display, shining from a gleam of sweat. I nearly fell over when he reached for his black belt, untied it and yanked his pants down to his feet, then kicked them to the side.

Ohh fuck! He stood there, casually, with black briefs bursting with a prominent bulge, and god-like muscular legs. He started walking slowly towards me, smiling and still talking to himself, "This is going to be fun, I think this Butch boy needs a little discipline."

I wanted to run for the door, but it was directly behind him, and he had already demonstrated lightning fast abilities. I reminded myself I could use the safe word.

ln a low, gutteral whisper, Mack advised, "I'm gonna teach you a lesson about authority and respect, young man," He had closed the gap and I instinctively raised my arms to fend off an attack. He kept his arms at his sides and calmly kept walking towards me. His muscular chest connected with my outstretched arms and hands, and he just kept stepping forward. His mass was just too much for me as his larger, stronger frame caused my arms to crumple, and his sweaty meaty muscles pressed against my smaller body.

I couldn't detect anger, he was simply looking down and studying me. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around my upper body, lifted me from the floor with ease and walked backwards to the middle of the mats. I felt like a little boy being placed in time out for being naughty. I couldn't help notice the pronounced bulge against my stomach as he held me firmly, and was so overwhelmed by these surreal events I didn't utter a single word.

He placed me down and, still whispering, put one hand on my shoulder and one under my chin, looked into my eyes and asked, "Are you a cocksucker? You're sporting a boner, and you can't seem to take your eyes off my package, maybe you should get on your knees for a better view."

"I, uhh, I'm not gay, and I was not staring."

He pulled me into a bear hug, my arms at my sides while he roughly pressed me against his chest, then his right hand slapped my ass roughly, then again and again.

I heard movement and the room swirled around me until I heard a thud, then realized I had been body slammed onto my back. Dazed and winded, I blinked and before I could catch my breath, he was kneeling over my chest with one hand around my neck and the other cupping my cock and balls. In spite of my fear, my cock was rock hard. I had both of my hands on the forearm attached to the hand around my neck. His forearm flexed like steel cables. He wasn't choking me, just holding me in a locked position.

"Get off me you fucking pervert," I squealed. His hand grabbed one side of the fly on my underwear and with one forceful tug ripped my boxer briefs open. My 5 inch boner sprung upward.

"Well well, looks like Butch boy is enjoying this wrestling game, your little gun is pointing at me. You like the way Daddy is touching you? Don't lie to me boy, I'll knock you senseless."

Mack's hand around my throat relaxed, then struck me with a slap across the face, then again. I had never been dominated like this before. I heard a groaning voice, then realized it was mine. He stopped massaging my cock and balls, looked down at me, eyes burning into mine, shifted his position slightly, leaned his face down and whispered in a menacing tone, "Open your mouth, Paula!"

This man's voice and physical prowess had taken control of my entire body, and my cock was still harder than ever. I opened my mouth and he leaned down farther and spit into my mouth, then again, then stuck two fingers in my mouth with a stern command, "Start sucking faggot... yeah... that's it Paula... yeah suck like your life depends on it... mmmmm, yeah, you're starting to get the hang of this."

He leaned down closer to my left ear while I continued to suck and gag on his fingers. He whispered, "I knew you'd submit to me the moment you opened that smug mouth of yours."

His attitude, dominance and verbal taunts were humiliating but somehow sexually charged... for some twisted reason I was rock hard and submitting to this man's whims.

He stood and very casually removed his black briefs, keeping his eyes on mine, and revealing his ultimate sign of alpha male superiority... a nine inch, thick, cut fuck pole with a purple mushroom head, and shaved ballsack. He smirked and lightly pulled on his cock, then stepped over my head.

My eyes followed his cock and noticed he was kneeling down behind my head, then he leaned forward and placed his hands on top of my forearms, pushing them down, locking them to my sides. Now his mammoth dick was above my face.

"Open those pretty lips, Paula, and suck your big Mack. Don't make me ask again."

I opened my mouth and he immediately plunged down, causing me to gag and choke. He lifted up, allowed me a breath, then plunged down again.

His verbal taunts were continuous as he face fucked me. I wasn't aware of anything except this enormous cock plunging over and over into my mouth. "That's it boy, suck that big dick, you were born to suck my dick, you'll never want pussy again after eating my meat. You'll worship my cock whenever I want, isn't that right, Paula?"

"Mmmmm mmmmmm," I couldn't form words because of the rough pounding. He knew he was in total control.

"Yeah, Paula, I can see your clit begging for Mack's touch. You want Mack to seed your pretty mouth, huh, will that make you cream yourself?"

Oh God, he was picking up speed, and my jaw was aching from the stretching and non-stop pounding. His verbal assaults were degrading yet arousing.

"Arch your head back, boy, ohhhh, yeah, keep throating my man dick.... yeah, that's right, keep that throat around your Daddy's pole. Looks like your little squirt gun is starting to leak, are you hot for Daddy's dick in your smug mouth? Uh? Answer me, faggot, do you like being my cocksucker?"

"Umphhhhh, mmmmm," His pounding was relentless and his pace was increasing, my cock was so hard I thought he must've drugged me.

"Yeah, Butch boy, I'm getting fuckin close, you keep that faggot throat open, that's it, good boy, good boy. Daddy's meat is about to seed your virgin mouth, yeah, ohhhh, fuuuuck, yeah, fuuuuck, take it, TAKE IT BITCH!"

His final thrust downward was like an electric discharge throughout my body. His python dick was pumping and pumping into my throat, my forearms were being crushed by this crazed stud, and my own cock erupted with spurts of cum that seemed to match Mack's orgasmic rhythm. His heavy ballsack slapped against my nose and I desperately tried to catch my breath, feeling semen, phlegm and saliva dripping down my face and neck. The pummeling seemed to last for minutes.

Mack's cock movement slowed down, mercifully, and he relaxed his grip and pulled back on his knees, still above me and upside down. I could see he was sweating profusely, and smiling. He leaned down and spit into my open mouth, then said, "Good boy, I knew you'd submit to Daddy. That was fuckin hot. We need to get cleaned up now. Man you shot your jizz all over my chest, like a happy little squirt gun. I bet you'll be reloading in no time."

Dazed, I was still experiencing aftershocks and was hardly processing what Mack was saying. Something about a squirt gun. He was now helping me to my feet and was ushering me into a side door I hadn't noticed before. It was an entrance into a large shower area, gang latrine style, with four separate shower heads in each corner.

Soap, shampoo and conditioner dispensers were placed evenly between the shower heads. Mack walked to the far corner and turned on the shower. I pulled off my torn underwear and let them fall to the floor... I already decided I'd throw them out.

I moved towards another corner, but he barked at me, "No, you shower over here, your lesson isn't over, Butch."

I moved hesitantly towards his corner, noticing his python dick was still engorged, and now mine was getting hard again. Mack's dominant air and raw physicality had me locked into some type of trance.

He growled above the water noise, "Start washing me down, Paula. Make sure you get every nook and cranny, start with Daddy's cock, then clean your jizz off my chest."

He leaned his head backwards into the warm spray and shut his eyes, and started to hum to himself. Standing in front of him, I found myself worshipping this perfect male specimen, reached for some soap and rubbed it between my hands to create suds.

I had moved my hand down to take hold of the appendage that minutes before destroyed my throat. His cock's heft and girth made me feel like such a sissy boy. This man exuded sexual prowess and masculine power.

"I've gotta piss, boy, you keep holding my dick until it's empty, then make sure it's good and clean.'

Oh fuck, a yellow stream started flowing from Mack's dick, and the pressure kept increasing until it was blasting like a fire hose against my pale thighs, then my balls, cock and across my stomach. He moved his hand on top of mine, reminding me to keep hold. I should've been disgusted but somehow it felt intimate, sexy and--in a twisted sense--an honor to witness this hunk relieve himself.

After 20 seconds of forceful pissing, the flow abated, dribbled and came to a full stop. I kept rubbing his cock with one hand while dispensing soap into the other.

Mack instructed me to clean his balls, his chest, arms, neck and then turned to have me clean his ass. He spread his muscular cheeks to allow my hands to properly suds and wash his crack. He started to groan and directed me to massage his buttocks.

"Paula, get your tongue in there, bitch. NOW! I wanna feel that mouth of yours, now tongue my ass."

I had totally forgotten about the safe word at this point, still under the spell of this dominant alpha, so I lowered myself on one knee and moved closer to his crack. Mack didn't have the patience for this. He reached around and pulled on my neck, plunging my face between his cheeks.

With my eyes shut tight, I stuck out my tongue and felt it connect against his taint, I heard him groan and he pushed himself harder against my face. I was holding onto his armor-like thighs for balance. His musk and manly scent were erotically hypnotizing me... there was no other way to explain my body's reaction to this predatory man.

Every part of this man's body was hard and lean. My cock was fully erect again.

To my surprise, Mack turned back around, sporting a gigantic erection.

He put his strong arms on my shoulders and turned me toward the shower spray, then up against the wall. Due to his height, his cock was obscenely pressing against my stomach.

He pinned me against the wall and asked me to confirm my place, "Daddy owns you now, isn't that right, Paula?" He moved one strong hand to my scalp and roughly made me nod affirmatively up and down.

Mack: "Who owns you, Paula?"

Me: "Daddy"

His interrogation continued while holding my wet scalp and pressing against me.

Mack: "Who is your superior?"

Me: "Daddy"

Mack: "Who is stronger?"

Me: "Daddy"

Mack: "Who is more powerful?"

Me: "Daddy"

Mack: "Who has a bigger cock?

Me: "Daddy"

Mack: "Who are you going to obey when he demands you suck his cock?*

Me: "Daddy"

Mack: "Who is going to fuck your boy pussy?"

Me: "Daddy"

Mack turned me around, instructing me to grab the hand rail. I saw him pumping large mounds of conditioner into his hand. My cock was still at full attention but I was terrified about being impaled by Mack's fuck rod.

I felt the cold gel of conditioner being applied to my crack, and the heat of Mack's enormous cock was resting between my cheeks. He applied even more lube and started sliding his alpha cock up and down my ass, rubbing firmly against my taint and causing me to instinctively push backwards, enjoying the foreplay sensations. I looked down to see my cock was dripping precum.

I sensed pressure against my taint, then a rough push and grunt from Mack. I grunted loudly and Mack wrapped one hand around my mouth and leaned over my back while pressing further into me. My yelps were muffled by his large hand. I was seeing stars and thought for sure my asshole was being ripped open. I looked down, expecting to see blood. My erection had softened. He pushed again and I almost collapsed down, but he was effortlessly holding me. Even with plentiful lube, I strained against the pain and pressure.

"Ohh, you're so fuckin tight Paula, and I'm almost half way, you just need to relax your pussy and I promise you'll be begging me to fuck your brains out."

I could feel another increase in pressure and almost bit down on Mack's hand still muffling my yelps. "Ughhhh, mmmmm, ple fghh," I was trying to plead with Mack, to get him to pull out. But he had no intentions of stopping now.

"Almost there, baby, almost there. I want to feel you riding my entire cock... after you adjust you'll want to fuck like a horny toad, I bet you'll cream yourself just thinking about my cock."

Finally, Mack's balls and torso hit my backside and he slapped my ass several times to mark his achievement. He removed his hand from my mouth, I was hyperventilating and could hardly catch my breath.

He grabbed my scalp, roughly, pulled me backwards while his other arm slid beneath my chest. He was speaking softly into my right ear, "I'm all in, baby, yeah you've got all of Mack Daddy in your warm pussy. You just need a bit of a rest, that's all, then the real fun starts." He spanked my ass again.

Remarkably, the searing pain started to subside and I could feel my lungs start to relax, my breathing was rapid, but more manageable. I couldn't help uttering what I was thinking, "It's too fucking big, Daddy, I can't do this!"

"You'll start feelin' real good, real soon, and you'll always remember this moment, you'll never forget Mack taking your cherry... you'll forget about your fiancee, that's for sure, but you'll never forget my cock."

Mack shifted back slightly, pulled himself halfway out, then back in, repeating this over and over. Soon I was meeting his thrusts and his manhood was stimulating my prostate on each upward thrust. I was moaning loudly and could hear my echoes in the large shower room. I had no idea that Mack was just warming up.

"This hot pussy is so tight, I'm going to pound the cum outta you, boy. Are you ready for some fun?" He bitch slapped my ass three times, causing more yelps, and he picked up his rhythm, "I'm going to fuck your brains out Paula, yeah, you'll be limping for a week."

While his thrusting was firm, powerful and deep, I had somehow adjusted and was pushing back against this stud whose sexual energy permeated my senses. My moans reverberated with the splashing water sounds.

As if following a script, Mack slapped my ass several times and growled, "Time to face the music, Paula." He pulled out and immediately I found myself yearning for his cock. He turned me around, positioned my arms on his shoulders, and effortlessly lifted me into the air with his strong arms under my thighs and his hands under each of my buttocks. He pressed me against the shower wall with his predator eyes burning into mine and began verbally emasculating me.

"You like Daddy's dick, Paula?"

"Oh fuck, yes, I love your dick, Daddy."

"You want Daddy to keep fucking your boy pussy?"

"Yes, yes, Daddy, please keep fucking me."

"You want Daddy to fuck your brains out? What do you want, Paula? Beg your Daddy and tell me how much you want my cock."

"Oh, Daddy, your cock is amazing, please fuck me with your beautiful fuck rod, make me your bitch, I'm ready for your cock Daddy, please!"

Mack's eyes were drilling into mine as I was begging him, and our cocks were fully pressed together, his dwarfing mine. My legs were stretched to their limit as he effortlessly held me there. All I wanted at that moment was to be fucked by this alpha stud.

He lifted me slightly higher and pulled me closer to his chest, and said, "I promised you'd be begging for my cock, and I want to see your face when I mount you and pound the cum from that little squirt gun."

My eyes rolled back and I let out a gutteral moan when he lowered me onto his fuck pole. He was holding me like a sissy boy rag doll, lifting me up then letting me down."

"Look at me faggot," he spat into my face. "I want you to see how a real man fucks."

He lowered me just enough so that his legs got into position and he began to fuck me like a wild animal. His eyes just kept staring at me, and his neck and shoulder muscles became more pronounced. His stamina was super human, and I almost cried out when his pace and thrusting became even faster and more forceful.

Oh what the fuck! My ass was being jackhammered by a nine inch cock and my senses were overloaded. He was still staring at me, no doubt exalted by my facial expressions. He spat into my mouth again, and his muscular abdomen was sliding against my cock, bringing me closer and closer to a climax.

He must've been reading my facial expressions, "You're close aren't you, baby, ohh yeah, I can feel your boy pussy gripping Daddy's cock. I'm going to plow deep and seed your boy cunt, you'll be leaking cum for a week. Yeah, ohhhh, yeah, here it comes, bitch, get ready, look at me, look at me, you cunt, yes... fuuuuck, there, BITCH, take it, take it you faggot. YEAH, YES, squirt your gun while I seed your cunt!"

I felt Mack's fuck rod explode against my prostate causing my cock to erupt with a force I didn't think possible. Cum actually hit my chin and sprayed onto Mack's chest, he kept pounding and pounding me. I think I temporarily lost consciousness but somehow Mack was still holding me, grinding into my ass with orgasmic aftershocks.

His cock was still hard, still pumping and grinding and so deep inside my ass. My euphoria left me in a dream like state, and my blurred awareness started to regain some clarity. I opened my eyes and remembered I was showering in the arms of this hurculeon man. My erection was slowly fading. Just 45 minutes ago I was a content heterosexual man who could not imagine, much less perform, such unspeakable acts with another man.

Mack's amazing cock started to soften, and he lowered me to the floor, sliding out of me. My legs wobbled as I regained equilibrium and cum was dripping down my legs. He was standing in the shower spray, his muscular body looking even more ripped.

He pulled me against his chest, giving me a gentle hug, then praising me, "I'm proud of you, young man, two or three times I thought you'd yell 'tsunami' but now we know you're a submissive slut for man cock."

I was so defeated, confused and worn out, I didn't really know what to say, except, "Yes, Daddy."

We washed up, all over again, but Mack didn't demand that I clean his crack. His demeanor was softer now, so I assumed he had some kinky alter ego.

We got dressed and walked to the studio exit, Mack leading the way through the now impossibly dark corridors. At the exit, he slapped my ass playfully, opened the door, then leaned down for one final whisper, "I expect to see a five star review, Paula, otherwise no more private lessons, now go home and wank off thinking about how I'll destroy your cunt next week."