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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Barista, Part 2

Cum?

He was at work. The remains of the tan-soy-mocha-latte-with-whip were dripping over the counter-top, pooling on the floor.

Turner nervously fumbled for his trousers and hiked them up. His cock was rigid. It was also dripping cum.

He stepped back from the bar. Something really fucking weird was going on.

The slam of the back door made the youth spin on his heel. It opened a second time and Turner was able to spot a third man running towards the door, his hands at the waist of his pants, trying to keep them up, the belt and zipper obviously undone

misterx story

Barista, Part 1

“OOOOOOOSHIT!” Turner ejaculated.

His eyes burst wide open awakened from a sudden nightmare. Confusion rather than comfort followed.

Cellphone in the hands of shop patrons greeted him. Some folk wore expressions of mirthless humor and others of disgust. All of them stared. At him.

He was bent forward over the bar, looking out towards the store’s doors, bottles of flavored shots scattered about him in a halo of glass and syrup. His apron and shirt were pulled up over his head. His pants and briefs crumpled down around his ankles.

“Whathefuck.”

Turner’s sphincter twitched with fear. It felt stretched. And sticky. The inside of his thighs were sticky. His hands felt sticky. Hell, even his face felt caked with…

misterx story

I’m not a voyeur. I’m not a private detective or a spy or NSA either. I don’t get paid to watch people. If anything, I hate acknowledging that other humans even exist most of the time.

But while I was laid up last summer that changed.

You can only watch TV for so long before it all starts to bleed together. Whodunit of the week, “we can’t let anyone know about our relationship,” shows with no point other than the “to be continued” message at the end.

Reading was out of the question too. My arm didn’t work so I could not hold a book. I’m a Luddite and can’t read on a tablet either. 

So it was inevitable that between the many pain-medication induced naps that I’d start people watching. Looking out the window of my top floor apartment I could see the park below, the walkers. Distantly I could see the mist-shrouded mounted. And, lastly, I could look into the windows of the apartment building directly across from me.

The majority of it was mundane. I’ll bore you with that later. The part you care about, and the point of this story, was the guy in room 612 and the thing he did and the things I made him do in front of that window.

Random Rear Window-ish story musings. 

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The Machine stood in the clearing long before the parish grew up around it with their own lore. The Machine towered ominous, its freshest occupant still squirming when native guides lead trappers past it in the unmapped wilds of the “New World.” The Machine was there when Norsemen landed beneath its shadow, hungry and thrumming with promise. And, for all anyone knew, the Machine had been there when New England kissed the shores of Morocco. 

I’m sure I’m going somewhere with this…

the machine misterx story

Let’s unMake Love - Day 1

I HAVE SEX WITH THE BEAST

IT’S A SECRET

When family is around I hide the Beast in the attic, behind the wardrobe with Mom’s wedding dress(es) in it. No one ever goes up there, but it would be easy to see their tracks in the dust. I’m not good at this.

(I think of the Beast as they. It makes sense in my head.)

That sick green light inside them still grosses me out. The glow makes shadows on the walls that don’t look right. The shapes they cast literally make me puke… Now I always turn on the house lights when they are in my room.

Their smell reminds me of a cattail pond. Not fishy, but kinda earthy with things growing in it.That sounds nastier than I meant. They’re not made of water.

The Beast feels different to the touch, like there’s six inches of lukewarm water between my finger and their skin. I can swish about, feel resistance, but still know we’re touching. But they’re not made of water!

When we’re doing it, the Beast does this thing where they get inside my head and won’t let me stop cumming. It is so friggin’ hot. Time stretches, my brain boils, and I can’t stop cumming. It puddles on the floor, floods the bathtub, strains every muscle in my body, I can’t catch my breath. I’m ruined for hours afterward. Like, no strength at all. I can barely think. My limbs twitch. Everything is so sensitive. 

This sounds really crazy. I should never let anyone read it. Is there a private setting or something for posts?

~Rodge

Future posts for this will get uncomfortably weird. I’ll tuck them under Read More tags and include content warning tags. These are sessions from a solo writing prompt game called The Beast.

the beast misterx story Beastionnaire Let's unMake Love
fellowsart
misterchristianx

I love this pic. Fellows poured some great emotion into the faces of the characters. I wish it had been mine ;) So I hijacked it by writing a story for it (with permission). 

It was zeitnot.

His lips quivered as he held the King between his teeth. Sweat dribbled down his face and into his eyes, causing them to water and run as well. Arms straining against rope bindings was the most he could manage to clear his vision.

Liam could see his time ticking away on the game clock. He’d wasted almost three minutes frantically attempting to chain his derailed train of thought together and himself out of this mess. He’d squandered his time early in the game, struggling to move pieces with his mouth and now there was no time left.

Professor Kasparov had a glint in his eyes. A hungry look that said he’d already won. That he intended to stick more than just the White King up Liam’s ass.

Zeitnot.

Earlier, when a Rook he’d advanced with his tongue faltered and then fell to the floor, Kasparov made no move to pick up the piece. Instead he waited, scowling, while Liam awkwardly lowered himself to the ground and retrieved it with his mouth like a dog.

Blushing, he attempted to place it back on the table only to receive a sharp blow from the man’s crop on his already raw butt. Another red welt against a dozen.

“Fuck.” Was all Liam could muster as the piece tumbled away and the boy recoiled in pain.

“Pieces are played while sitting. Pick it up. Sit down and return it to play. Time is ticking.” Came the curt response.

Zeitnot.

Kasparov took his Queen, taunted him with her fallen corpse and a wry grin. All that remained were two very impotent Pawns and an equally useless Whtie King. He could work with this. He could recover. He just had to concentrate. Something he had been unable to do all night.

The confounded vibrator buzzed away on his erect cock. It throbbed needily in discordant time with the ticking of the timer. He was so close to climax, but only close. The vibrator was not enough to finish him. All he could do was whimper through gritted teeth and try to ignore the biological urge.

He licked his lips and stared at the board of black and white through blonde, sweaty hair. All his body was a knot of tension, abs clenching in anticipation. Liam was no chess featherweight. Kasparov would not have taken such an interest in him if that was not the case. Or so Liam told himself a day earlier. It was far too late to be thinking about that now.

Zeitnot.

His brow furrowed with concentration. He stared at the chess board and tried to read a move or two ahead. What Kasparov would do if Liam played here or there. His nipples ached, distracting his planning. He sighed with resignation. No matter what choice he made he was going to get fucked.

Checkmate.

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Westminster Kennel Show - Pup Edition

A simple note had gotten him the day off from school. The semester was ending in a few days anyways so it was not like Macaulay was missing out on anything important. In the weeks coming up to the contest Macaulay had been filled with a certain pride and excitement. Tori had been the one to suggest entry into the contest, he must be really proud of how well Macaulay was performing.

And now here they were, behind the large curtains where all the owners and their pups were preening and preparing for the show.

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