BDSM Library - Story: You Can Never Go Home, Chapter: Part 2

You Can Never Go Home 2

by Emile

"ssh now,and come quickly"

Greg woke from his fitful sleep to hear some noises out in the waiting room. He was bushed, his day filled with a battery of tests. He heard laughter, but the surgical light that permanently shone on his naked body blinded him from seeing who was in the hall.

"we gonna have some fun tonight"

Greg squinted into the light, and one of the voices stepped forward. He was tall and strapping, maybe 19, wearing an A&F singlet that hugged his rippling body tightly, stretched over his nipples, dark brown skin contrasting against the dirty cream singlet. With horror Greg recognised the singlet as his own, a little grimier but definitely his. The latin dude scratched his flat stomach, grinning, letting his fingers push down the crusty jean shorts that hugged his narrow waist.

"fuck man" a second voice chimed "what's that thing in his arse?"

His body was so abused he'd put the aching feeling down to recovery, but now he reflexively scrunched his head down on his pecs, staring down through the valley to between his spread thighs. There, the stretched skin of his dick, pulled over the head and taped down to his abs, he could still make out the handles of the large speculum holding his arse open. The latin teen leant forward, grasping the handles and stretching the jaws open wider. Involunarily he let out a hoarse yelp. A second shadow stepped forward - Jacob - who'd obviously let the other two in. He was holding a vicious looking steel mouthguard, which he coaxed into Greg's mouth as he bucked from the widening speculum jaws. The mouthguard forced his mouth wide, pushing up at the gums, making him drool and choke as he tried to protest. It had all happened in a matter of seconds, and now he was fully awake, jaw and arse spread wide. He tried to struggle up but the restraining strap across his chest and biceps kept him from improving his position. Jacob had found a pair of pliers and pinched his tongue as he struggled, now pulling it out firmly. "Now I knows you wanna scream honkey but jus shush and we'll be gentle. This stuff'll numb you nice and good. If you be-have I might jus put some on your hole before we fuck - if not I' gonna numb your dick till you piss yo'self stupid, and then we'll see what the doc decides for you". Greg nodded dumbly, the anasthetic making his tongue loll thick and heavy out of his mouth.

Another, younger latino appeared from the shadows. He was a mirror of the other, only his chiselled jaw wore a brooding expression that was somehow more threatening and dangerous than his clone's jeering grin. He was, Greg realised with dread, holding a bag of vegetables, and was keenly rooting around for something to show the others. "Hey bro, mama doesn't need all this, I bought extra 'specially for our visit." He pulled out what looked to Greg like an impossibly thick cucumber, one of those nasty cheap ones with lumps and rough skin, the kind most grocers gave away. He'd obviously spent some time rooting through the reject fruit, because it was the biggest gnarled veggie Greg'd ever seen, with lumps the size of warts marring the thick curved stalk. His brother wasn't listening though, he'd let go of the speculum, his warm hand resting on Greg's thigh, grazing his plump balls. The foreskin stretching had gone some way to lifting his pendulous sac, but not enough for the doctor, who'd pumped his nads full of saline to make them giant taut globes. A steel ring and bar lifted and separated them further so they stuck out like river pebbles, hard and shiny, from his bald crotch. He was obviously fascinated by them, since his fingers kept wriggling around, digging into the flesh, but he hid his ministrations, which would've seemed a little gay to the others, by leaning forward and grasping the marker lying next to his body, so he could add his own obscene mark to Greg's chest.

The inking had begun a few nights ago, jocks from his class, Jacob's guests, anyone who snuck in after hours or waited until the nurses weren't around, so they could write whatever filth came into their mind across his depilated chest. In fact, since they'd use the industrial cream, his whole body was hair free, from his jaw down to his feet. His crotch was a reddish colour still, the doc had mentioned something about the cream getting in the exposed pores, but completely smooth, making his dick and balls jut out even more prominently.

The early ink marks, "COCKSLUT" and "CHEESELICKER" had faded to green-grey, the permanent marker soaking into the skin, but were still large and clearly visible against his naked flesh. The later messages had to find room around, arching over his square pecs, eventually spilling along his wide lats, following the corded muscles, until even the ridges of his armpit were scrawled with "John fucked me 2007" and the like. The doctors and nurses feined disgust, but secretly thought it was a hoot. No-one tried to find out the culprits, or wash the ink off (if it could be), since they had a strict no-bathing policy for their guinea pig stud. The obsene messages and the funky aroma of sweat and dickdrool just made Greg's father all the angrier when he visited - accusing Greg of deserving the taunts if he allowed them to be written in the first place.

The greasy latino's own drawing of a drooping dork along the base of Greg's pecmound, seemingly trussed back to his pouting, scratched nipple, wasn't enough to deter the younger from his mission with the cuke. With force, although not much skill, he began jabbing the blunt head against the stretched hole, eliciting muffled moans from Greg as he vainly tried to make his tongue work, and beg them to stop. Jacob came round back, letting the older latino shuffle forward so he could mash Greg's balls with one hand and lean in to colour the obscene drawing with the other.

"Wha you doin man, aint you never shoved shit up a honky arse before. You gotta twist it, like this, and push up, like this, until the thing gets past his nub. There, now you can pull that steel thing away, and we just work this thing up hard against the skin. Whoa yeah, see how the lil richie's pucker sucks at every bump - it's like we's scraping his innards with a brush. Hey look, he's sweating now, and we ain't more than a few inches in. Hey, did you measure this thing? Oh fuck, now we gotta rip this out and measure it. Use that tape over there. Aw hell, now there's arseslime all over this thing, it sure will stink when they wrap it around his balls tomorrow. Yeah, they like measure him every day. His dad reckons he's a freak already, so he really hates it when they call out the measurements every time. Anyway, so this lump here is 8 inches, and this fold is about 12. I say we can get about 14 inches in, to these two bumps here, before we lose our hand grip. So, let's try again. Now you shove, hard as you can. Hey shut the fuck up whiteboy. Ok, harder, and twist too, push that fucker in."

As the oversized vegetable was forced past his arsepucker, it bumped and ground his sensitive prostrate, making his dick lurch against the bindings. The nurses had already found out to their delight that his swollen tool stayed achingly hard once aroused, sometimes up to two hours unless he came, which of course he hadn't done since the first day. That day, they'd milked him for 45 minutes, in bed, legs spread and arms by his side, a nurse slowly jacked him off in full view of the clinic. Humiliated and exposed, he'd taken a while to build up an orgasm. Just before he climaxed, the nurse was called away, and he was left there, propped up, cock bobbing, for 10 minutes, before they started again. They did this three times, until his bloated tool jutted straight up from his shaved crotch, pulsing and purple with unreleased cum. It was a monster cum, slugs shooting in the air, but the nurse pinched the head, cutting off the pleasure mid-orgasm. Then ten minutes later, his dick still slick with drying cum, a different nurse came to take another sample. He protested, said something about already giving a sample, but the nurse just smiled and kept jacking his tingling cock. The second load was smaller and more watery, and his cock was feeling sore. Half an hour later, they came for sample number three. The nurse said she wasn't going to touch his filthy tool, the others had already complained, so he'd have to do it himself - and fast, no more prolonging his 'sick pleasure'. Achingly, he beat his cock again, the stern nurse telling him to do it faster and harder to 'get it over with'. He flogged his cock for 20 minutes, the skin chafing as he slammed down on his cock, legs spread wide, dozens of horrified patients watching. A few complained about this 'disgusting young man jerking off' but the nurses just absently nodded, saying nothing. Finally he came with a roar of anguish, the third load dribbling out, and he managed to scoop some into the petri dish. The nurse came to collect it, forcing two sleeping pills into his mouth, so he soon was knocked out, still covered in spatter and fully exposed. He thought he'd never want to cum again. But that was days ago, and now his dick was stiff, begging for release from the constant ministrations.

Meanwhile, the veggie was now 8 inches in, stretching his sphincter wide, and was stuck, No amount of pulling and jabbing would get it past his hole, which was suctioned around the cuke at a particularly wide point. Jacob began rooting around nearby for some lubricant, coming back with some bromide they'd been using on swabs for his many intrusive tests. The heavy brown bottle tottered ominously in his hand, cap unscrewed, and he made the two brothers stand back and get some gloves, as he liberally poured the brown liquid, spattering it over the cuke, Greg's arsering and inner thighs. He slipped a little, and a big splash of the viscous liquid splashed over his ballsac and cock, coating them both, dripping down onto his abs. The liquid was icy cold at first, but soon heated up, stinging against the sensitive flesh. The two latinos had returned, wearing rubber gloves at Jacob's command, to stop the bromide staining their hands. Greg scrunched down again, seeing what Jacob meant by staining. His whole inner thighs, cock and balls were a dark orange-brown, like sickly tanned flesh. He didn't have much time to contemplate his stained body, as the younger brother began twisting the cuke against his hole, the burning liquid allowing the cuke to slip in. Unfortunately, it also meant his chute began to burn as the strong antiseptic was driven up his bowels. The older latino had come back to his position standing next to his chest, and was leaning over him, face inches from Greg's own. To prop himself up, he planted one gloved hand on his dick and balls, mashing down on the engorged flesh, the other, ungloved, grasping Greg's shaggy hair, pulling his face back and up. The latino's sensuous lips were millimeters from Greg's mouth, so close Greg could smell tobacco on his breath. He looked poised to kiss, obviously aroused by the trussed up stud.

"Hey, whacha doin man?"

Without warning, the Mexican teen hocked up a phlegm ball, coughing it up and spitting into Greg's open mouth, slimy spit coating his tongue and leaking equally over his chest and down his throat. He leant back, leveraging off Greg's hair and stalk, fingers still dug in hard.

"No sweat man, just clearing my throat, you know when you just need to spit out the tar..."

"Alight man, nice work. Say, bout time whiteys stopped mouthing off anyway. anything else we can do with that trashhole?"

The latino leant back, ripping the tape off his dickskin as he dragged his hand back over his thigh. "Whoops. Hey, I can think of something" he suggested, squeezing his ragged jeans with his ungloved hand. His own brown snake had been pushing out the denim for a while, and now he had the perfect 'straight boy' excuse for taking it further. Without missing a beat, he pushed up onto the bed, pinning his knees down on Greg's strapped biceps. He wasted no time in popping the buttons on the fly, letting his dork flop out, slapping the tar coated tongue with a thud. Like his Mexican buds, he dick was heavy, veiny and uncut, skin drooping off the edge like a rag, scraping against his tongue. As he leaned forward, the musky smell of his wiry crotch hit Greg in the face, almost a distraction from the rough thrusts of his younger brother, working the cuke further up his arse. Almost. The cuke was about 10 inches in now, stretching him deeper and wider than anything before. He'd been a normal jock only days before, and now his arse was on fire, stretched wide, brown dick leaking onto his tongue, and there was nothing he could do. As sap dripped over his tongue, he felt the fat cock begin to harden, the head slowly poking out of the rolls of flesh, pushing dickcheese onto his tongue. "Hey man slow down" he heard Jacob say, coming around from behind. "I got the doc's camera here, gotta get some pictures of this. Smile, honky!"