"I still might."
From Create Your Own Story
Mac doesn't smile exactly so much as he bares his teeth. "Well, can't say that isn't wise, but it's not what I'd like..." He narrows his eyes. "So how do I stop a boy from running away." He does smile now, though it's not particularly amusing to be on the receiving end of it. You feel your whole body shiver.
"Maybe I take you somewhere you can't get away, and tie you up?" He leans in close, and his voice drops even further, a gravelly tone you can barely hear over the noise of the bar. "Or maybe..." His heavy arm snakes around your side and gives you a little tug toward him, and he turns. You're soon pressed against the wall of the bar, and he's looming in front of you. His rough hand rubs at the small of your back, and then finds its way under your shirt.
You bite your lip. "Maybe?"
He leads you away from the wall, to the curtained area, and you realize his intention a moment before he pushes the curtain aside and pulls you through with him. You stumble, and the big man grabs you with both hands to keep you upright, pushing you against the wall to the side of the curtained entrance to the back room. Once in the dim red light of the back room, you shiver under the large man's grip.
Mac smiles again. "Maybe," he says, and puts his other arm around you, too. It's possessive and hot and maybe a little bit terrifying. Both hands slide between your jeans and your skin. His hands are rough, and he cups both your ass cheeks in your pants, still looking down at you from above with a smile mostly lost in the dim red light. He presses against you, and you feel his hard on against your stomach - he feels fucking huge! Your own dick must be obvious to him, pressed against his thigh.
One of his fingers slides between your ass cheeks, and rubs at your pucker. He presses in with a rough jab that makes you gasp.
"Still," he says, pushing his finger in deeper. "Not." He slides a second finger into your hole, making you squirm and press against him - the mix of pain and submission to the larger man is intoxicating. "Running," he says, and leans in close to your ear, twisting the two fingers inside your pucker until you grunt and squirm.
"Yeah," he says, finger-fucking your ass again. "You ain't gonna run from me. I'm gonna have this ass. You're a little whore boy, aren't you? I got a whore-boy ass in my hands, don't I?" You squirm, and he laughs in your ear, his own hard on growing ever harder against your stomach - you've never felt something like this before. "And when I get a whore-boy, they're mine for the night, you get it? I got a very big, very hard dick, and a boy's ass in my hands I'm going to fucking split wide open. You hear me, boy? You my little whore-boy?"
You say...
