How To Rape A Straight Guy

by Sullivan, Kyle Michel

  Her hair was the same color as this punk, but I didn’t notice it till that night. Her skin was as smooth as his. Nice tight perky little butt an’ round tits that were real as real could get. Not big, just right. Shit, I loved suckin’ on her tits for an hour before I fucked her. Made her crazy, all set to go before I began pumpin’, an’ then she’d wrap her pussy around me so tight, it made me gasp an’ groan an’ pump even harder an’ flat out roar when I fired. Shit.

  Well...that thought got me goin’. Got me th’ meanest fuckin’ wood I’d had since I arrived. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, an’ it was the first time since I’d been in that I couldn’t. Shit, my balls were so blue I didn’t want to move. But I couldn’t lie still, either. Just the feel of my boxers against my skin brought me close to lettin’ loose. But no way was I gonna let that happen while this kid was still awake; it might spook him an’ make breakin’ him in too tough.

  So I lay there, as still as I could, waitin’ while he did his bedtime thing -- piss an’ brush his teeth an’ comb his hair. He wore this ratty tee shirt an’ high school gym shorts to bed, like always. He never said nothin’ -- shit, I think we said a total of ten words to each other up to that point -- just plopped on his bunk an’ went to sleep about two seconds after lights out, like he always did. I already had a sock stashed under my pillow, an’ it took me about two seconds of pullin’ in it to get myself off, all without a sound.

  But it didn’t work. Not a bit.

  Man, this picture of Connie was so hot in my mind that night. I mean, I could just see her. Feel her legs wrappin’ ‘round me. Feel her hands on my ass pullin’ me harder against her. Smell her perfume as I sucked on her tits while I pounded away. Hear her sayin’ “Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah,” as she used muscles I’d never known chicks had ‘fore I met her. I wanted -- no, needed to pump my dick into somebody just like I had her, so fuckin’ bad, right then. An’ I knew jumpin’ the gun an’ grabbin’ a half-assed virgin’s blow-job wasn’t gonna hack it this time. But like I said, I only fucked a guy once, before, y’know, an’ it wasn’t all that great. So that’s why I’d been okay with blow jobs the two years since that, ‘cause they didn’t mean anything. Same for my right hand. So really that’s all I’d needed. Till I saw that kid’s ass. I couldn’t kill the image in my brain. An’ I wound up with another ragin’ boner.

  Christ, I’d of killed to have a go with Connie, right then. My hands itched to touch her skin. An’ her kisses, just like sex without sex involved -- if that makes any sense. Our bodies crushin’ like we were tryin’ to melt inside each other. Oh, God. I started rubbin’ my hands together, soft all over each other like she’d do to get me started, sometimes. Tickle the hair on my wrists. Then the tender spot under the palm of my hand. Then trail her fingernails up along the inside of my fingers. Fuckin’ shit, I needed way more’n a memory, right then.

  I finally gave in. What the fuck, I knew what to do an’ if I closed my eyes real tight, maybe it’d be just like with her. So I pulled off my boxers, slipped from my bunk an’ stood there with a ragin’ boner, lookin’ at him sleepin’ there. He looked even more like a kid, lyin’ on his side, mouth open just a little. An’ it was a pretty mouth. Curved like a girl’s, but not in a sissy way. More innocent an’ gentle. Then I thought about my little brother. Few years younger than him. Only family I had left.

  I hadn’t seen him in three years. He’d just about be done with high school. Probably did good; he was a sharp kid. But then...I’d seen other sharp kids crash an’ burn an’ wind up in here. All it takes is one lousy moment when your luck’s lookin’ the other way for you to wind up crushed. Like this dumb kid lyin’ here. Just one dumb mistake. Not like me. My life’s a series of ‘em, even up to then. With him, all it took was one...an’ then the fucked up “justice system” sent him here. It wasn’t right.

  Man, I wouldn’t want somebody to do to my brother what I was about to do to this guy. An’ that kept me from movin’. I dunno how long I stood there, but I was startin’ to lose the edge. Startin’ to pull back to where another hand-job’d hold me. Take a little longer on this one. A little slower. More mind to it. Fact is, I was about to get back up on my bunk to get started on one when he rolled onto his back an’ one of his legs got uncovered. An’ it was white. An’ smooth. An’ almost hairless. An’ so much like one of Connie’s legs, I dropped on top of him without a thought.

  My hand was crushed his mouth before he knew what was happenin’, an’ I had this plastic fork handle I’d ground down to where you could cut paper with it jammed against his neck. He started to fight me, so I dug it into him. Cut his skin, a little. He stayed still, then.

  “Be glad it’s just me,” I said, real soft an’ mean. “I could let a dozen of ‘em in here to have you. Even make some stash off it.” Then I took my hand off his mouth an’ pulled his shorts down from his hips -- no, tore ‘em. I heard ‘em rip an’ felt his dick flop against my hand. I jerked it away.

  “Don’t, man,” he was whisperin’ over an’ over, “please. This isn’t my way. I’ve never done that -- .”

  “Shut up! You say one more fuckin’ word, this goes in your brain. You got me?”

  He nodded his head an’ the little pussy started to weep like a girl. Shit, I didn’t cry when I got it front an’ back from three Mexicans my first time in, an’ I was lots younger than this little faggot. An’ that pissed me off.

  He started to roll onto his belly, but I stopped him. I hadn’t liked it like that, before, so maybe if I fucked him more like I fucked a girl, it’d be better.

  I used my knees to shove his legs apart, then felt around for his hole. He was shakin’, he was so scared. An’ somethin’ stirred behind my heart. I loved it. Loved the strength it gave me. The power. The control. I used my free hand to put his legs up on my shoulders -- makin’ damn sure the fork was still stuck to his neck -- then I put my dick right up to him. He began to struggle, again, but I cut him. Not deep, just enough to let him know I meant it. Then I said, “Don’t say a fuckin’ word while I’m doin’ it, bitch. You yell or scream or let anybody know I’m fuckin’ you, you’re fuckin’ dead.”

  It was hard pushin’ into him, like his ass was frozen shut. I used some spit to wet things up an’ still had to work my way in, but once I got the head in, the rest followed easy. He gasped, then grunted an’ groaned an’ tried to wiggle away the whole time, but I had him too tight. Man, he had to work at not cryin’ out. In fact, he wasn’t doin’ too good at it, so I yanked his shirt up an’ rammed it into his mouth an’ he bit on that to keep quiet. An’ then I got busy pumpin’, ‘cause I wanted it done quick.

  Now I ain’t gonna lie to you -- workin’ myself into him like that an’ then fuckin’ him -- it felt good. A hundred times better’n that first guy. I finally understood why the guys would tell you that your right hand only goes so far. There’s somethin’ about bein’ inside somebody else to get off that adds ten times more pleasure to it when it’s what you want to do. An’ my mind got wrapped up in that, I think. Took me back to the last time I fucked Connie, just before I was busted. An’ for a minute, it’s like she was there...if that makes any sense. Like...I looked down at him, an’ for a second I thought it was her. Guess it was ‘cause of the darkness an’ shadows an’ the little slits of light comin’ in from the walkway lights, but I could of sworn it was her. Was her body under me. You see, I...well, his pecs were round an’ flat an’ solid. I’d even shown him some exercises in the gym that could fill ‘em out a bit, build him up some; part of the “trust me” bullshit. But there in the dark they looked a little bit like Connie’s tits, swear t’ God. I mean, like -- like when she’s lyin’ back an’ they sort of flow to the sides. Just not as soft an’ -- an’ shit, I dunno how t’ describe it; I just saw her when I saw them. An’ all of a sudden, I caught myself suckin’ on his tits just like I would’ve done with her.

  You see, this is exactly how I fuck my wife -- her legs in the air, me inside her, my tongue on her tits a
n’ me pumpin’ away. Slow at first, then faster an’ harder as we got closer to the jolt. She said I could make her cum more than any guy she knew, an’ I know she wasn’t bullshittin’ me ‘cause she’s a talker when she’s gettin’ fucked. Maybe that’s why I liked the oral thing with my punks up till then; I don’t want the little fuckers yappin’ or moanin’ or cryin’ or anything like that. Maybe that’s really why I jammed this pussy’s shirt in his mouth -- so he’d just keep from sayin’ anything.

  Didn’t do a hell of a lot of good. He whimpered the whole time I was doin’ him. Not that it made any difference, ‘cause I was so lost in it. I mean, you’ll never know how good it felt. How much it was like bein’ with Connie, again.

  Then I shifted from one tit to the other an’ he lost it, for a second. He tried to twist away, but I cut him a little more an’ he stopped. An’ I kept suckin’ on him just to show him who’s boss.

  Then I felt somethin’ bump up against my gut that freaked me out. He was gettin’ a fuckin’ woodie! I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it. He couldn’t either.

  I stopped an’ pulled back, a little, an’ glared at him. “What th’ fuck? You a fag?”

  “No,” he whispered. “I’ve never. Never.”

  “Bullshit, bitch,” I whispered back. “You like it. I can feel how you like it.”

  “No, man, it hurts,” he grunted. “Please, just get it over with.”

  So I laughed an’ began strokin’ into him slower an’ deeper, makin’ him really feel it. Try an’ tell me what to fuckin’ do, the little bitch. He almost sobbin’ as he kept beggin’ me to end it. An’ I just kept on an’ on. An’ his dick kept callin’ attention to itself. I slapped it aside a couple of times but it kept poppin’ back, bigger than the time before. So I did somethin’ I’d never done before -- I grabbed it. Grabbed his fuckin’ dick. Yanked it out of the way an’ kept pumpin’ into him. An’ the way he moved around as I fucked him made it seem like his dick was fuckin’ my hand. But I didn’t let go.

  To this day, I dunno why I kept hold. I’d never thought about hangin’ onto a man’s dick, before, but the way I could feel it bouncin’ around against my belly...feel his balls rubbin’ my pubes...feel his tits get as pointy as Connie’s, almost...it made me notice it more an’ more. So I just put my free hand around it an’ held onto it like I owned it. Like he was completely mine an’ that proved it.

  He tried to stop me, but I smacked his face. Then I grabbed even harder on him. Crushed my hand around him, like I was gonna tear it off. He sobbed even harder an’ begged me not to. Begged me to leave him alone. An’ then he started to struggle an’ I got even more into it.

  I fuckin’ owned him, right then. I was the boss, an’ nothin’ he did was gonna stop me or slow me down. The more he fought, the more I felt in control. An’ then he jolted. He almost pulled himself off me, but I had too good of a hold on him...an’ then he bucked me, again. Rammed himself harder onto my dick. An’ he shot all over my hand. All over himself. An’ I felt his ass tighten around me in a way that made me want to stay inside for-fuckin’-ever, it felt so...fuckin’...good...an’ then I let loose inside of him. Over an’ over an’ over. It made me weak, almost black out. I felt it on every square inch of my body, from my balls to my heart to straight down my legs, just like I had with Connie the first time. An’ I didn’t want to move...even as I kept slippin’ in an’ out an’ in an’ out to extend the screamin’ goin’ on behind my eyes.

  Holy fuckin’ shit.

  This is gonna sound weird, I know, but that first time -- the first time I got off in a guy like that -- it was like the first time I did coke. Swear to God, this sense of peace flooded over me an’ shoved aside everything -- everything that I had in my head. I went blank. Lost all control an’ loved lettin’ it go. Felt every part of my body join in the joy of what I’d just done. I didn’t get that even the first time I fucked Connie. Hell, the first time I fucked a girl, period. It was like my whole body started to float inside my skin. Like my brain wasn’t attached to my mind, just to my flesh. This guy I met outside once told me the French call it the little death, an’ now I knew what he meant. An’ I already knew I’d have killed to get it, again.

  I don’t remember stoppin’ or pullin’ out of him; I just remember floatin’ back to earth to find him lookin’ at me in shock. I made damn sure all he saw was me smilin’ back at him. But to be honest, now that I was comin’ down off that high, I was really shook up. I’d enjoyed it too fuckin’ much. First time I really fuck a guy an’ it makes me feel better than when I’m with my wife? It fucked with my mind, I’m tellin’ you; but I didn’t want him to see that. So I pulled back an’ used his shorts to wipe myself off.

  “You were good,” I said, keepin’ my voice even an’ calm. “You keep quiet about it an’ I’ll be the only one who gets you while you’re in. You let anybody know I did it? You’ll get ten guys a night up your ass, an’ one of ‘em’s sure to have AIDS. So play it smart.”

  Then I crawled back onto my bunk an’ faked like I was asleep. I knew he wouldn’t pull nothin’ on me, but I played it safe, just in case...listenin’ for him to make any kind of a move. But all he did was stay in his bunk, breathin’ hard, probably thinkin’ ‘bout that I’d said. What he’d done. There wasn’t another whimper out of him. The next mornin’, he acted like it’d never happened.

  So did I. It was better’n thinkin’ ‘bout what I’d felt with him. Better’n facin’ up to how great it’d been. An’ what that’d mean to me.

  I had him in my cell for the whole eight months he was in -- he got an early out -- an’ I fucked him every other night. I made him shoot every time I wanted to, too. Not every time; just every time I wanted to. To show him who’s boss. It was too fuckin’ cool. Gave me this feelin’ of total control, decidin’ which night I’d get him off an’ which I wouldn’t; the nights I decided not to, I’d put him face down on his bunk to fuck him. Messed with his mind, too, not knowin’ which night he’d wind up on his back or on his belly. ‘Course, none of those fucks were as good as that first one, for me, but a couple got close.

  Funny thing is, it got me to wonderin’ if it was just him who got off on bein’ fucked, so once he was gone, I tried it out on any other guy who crossed my cell or I took a likin’ to. Didn’t matter if he was spendin’ his first night in or was a third-striker, if I wanted him, I took him the way I took that kid -- legs in the air. An’ lemme tell you, most of th’ little fuckers did the exact same thing while I was fuckin’ ‘em. All but a few, an’ all but one or two of them still got wood; but for some reason, the non-woodie guys got me to fire faster than the others so I guess I didn’t have the time to make my stuff work on them.

  Anyway, that’s how I knew the skinny-assed faggot’s line wasn’t exactly bullshit. I knew exactly how to rape a straight guy. An’ I was findin’ I kind of missed it. An’ that thought really spooked me. I mean, I’m straight, y’know. Only time I ever fucked guys was in Mid-State, so that don’t count. Not really. It’s prison an’ you do what you gotta to fill the need. But to miss it? To wish you were still doin’ it? That...that was freaky. Stopped me cold. Made me wonder if I oughta just drop the brew an’ walk. To get away before I started thinkin’ too much an’ got myself back in prison. But the brew was a cold one an’ the faggots weren’t ready to reel in, yet. An’ I wasn’t really set to face Connie. So I blew it off, smirked at Wayne an’ sneered, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.”

  Wayne looked at me like I was scum an’ nodded his thick faggot head an’ sneered, “An’ just who’re you -- ‘Masters an’ Johnson’?”

  I thought about punchin’ his faggot teeth down his faggot throat, for a second, but I knew that’d kill the beer run an’ probably land me back in jail since I was still on probation. So I just got real close to him an’ whispered, “I don’t know fuck about this ‘Bastards an’ Johnston’ shit, but I do know what happens to a guy when I fuck him -- he gets hard an’ he cums. Every time.” Yea
h, I know, I know -- it was bullshit. But hey -- it never hurts to build up what you can do, not when you’re advertisin’.

  I must of said it meaner than I meant to ‘cause Wayne got too quiet. Like I’d just told him I was gonna cut off his balls, or somethin’. He wasn’t so gung ho on gettin’ hold of my dick, anymore -- but Lenny-boy, his eyes were on fire. He leaned over an’ said, “How do you know? Have you done time?”

  I took this long dramatic pause then nodded an’ said, “Twice. Once in a county jail. Once at Mid-State.”

  “Were you raped in prison?” he asked.

  “Do I fuckin’ look like some faggot could fuck me if I didn’t want him to?” I sneered, then I winked at him. He was hooked. He’d pay me three hundred easy to hold him down an’ tear off his undies an’ ram my dick up his ass. Little pussy.

  Wayne had to sneak over to the other side of the bar to get his voice back. “Okay, so you had a few experiences in prison. It’s different, in there. Men don’t have any other outlet.”

  I laughed. “You been watchin’ that piece of shit “Days of our prison lives” on fuckin’ HBO, ain’t ya? Connie used to watch it to try an’ figure out what I was goin’ through. It’s so fuckin’ pathetic. Like some cornball out-of-touch ‘artiste’ knows the first fuckin’ thing ‘bout how life really is inside.”

  “Connie?” Lenny asked.

  Oops! Shouldn’t of dragged her into it. So I smiled an’ said, “My ex. Dumped me when she found out I’d...oh, done it with somebody besides her. An’ my right hand.”