Andrew shut the door to his dorm room with a soft, tired sigh. He glanced around for his roommate, but the other boy was nowhere to be found. Andrew gratefully dropped his bag by the door and shucked off his clothing, falling face down on his bed in only his boxer shorts. He groaned; after the first day of practice, his muscles hurt all over. The soft bed felt like heaven. He couldn’t even bring himself to care that his messy black hair, still wet from the showers, was soaking the pillow.
With some effort, he managed to turn himself over, and contemplated struggling enough to get under the blankets. He turned his head to the side, then frowned and blinked, sure his tired eyes were deceiving him. He leaned closer to the dresser that stood between his bed and his roommate’s and peered at the object that sat on top of it.
A large, black dildo sat almost innocently on top of the dresser, nearly a foot long and a good deal thicker than a real penis. Andrew stared at it in puzzlement, then grinned. Jim. It must belong to his roommate. Well. He’d had no idea that Jim was into that sort of thing. He must have left it out by mistake. There was no way now that Jim was going to get out of a good teasing. Andrew wasn’t going to let him forget this.
But tomorrow. Andrew yawned mightily and lifted his tired body just long enough to scoot the top sheet out from under himself and pull it up to his chin. Within moments, he was asleep.
When he awoke the next morning, he had the strangest feeling. At first, half-asleep, he brushed it off as sore muscles, unused to so much attention after a summer off. But then, as he began to come awake, he realized that there was something more to it. With a start, he jolted upright and threw off the bedcovers. He looked down and, sure enough, saw the very end of the black dildo protruding from his anus. Andrew groaned, more in horror than from any sensation.
He took a few deep breaths, then grasped the end of the toy and began to pull it out. The thing burned sensuously as it was drawn out of him. He could feel the large head pushing against his insides, and he groaned again without meaning to. This was so very wrong.
Finally, with a last pop as the head stretched his anus wide and plopped out, he removed the toy and sat panting, the object lying meekly in front of him on the bed.
‘How in hell did that get in me?’ Andrew thought. ‘Why didn’t I notice it?’
The more he thought about it, the less possible it seemed. Andrew glanced about the room, seeking some explanation. His eyes came to rest on his roommate’s bed. Of course. Jim must have snuck in the previous night and done it to him while he was sleeping. Andrew had been so tired from the practice that he hadn’t even woken up, which appalled him, but not as much as what Jim had done in the first place.
He glared angrily at the toy. This was too much. There was no way Jim was getting away with this. He picked up the damn thing and tossed it furiously under his bed. From the look of the room, Jim hadn’t stayed after his stupid prank. He’d probably gone back to his girlfriend’s, where he often spent the night. Well. When he found Jim again, Andrew was going to smash his face in. Although…
Andrew thought about confronting him at breakfast, and then imagined trying to explain why he had punched his roommate in front of a room full of people. Okay, perhaps he’d best not. Maybe he’d better wait until Jim got back to the room, then give him a piece of his mind. That might be better.
As it was Saturday, Andrew spent most of the day in his room, brooding. After a few hours the rage had worn off, and he’d begun to wonder what exactly Jim had been thinking, doing something like this. Even as a prank, it was a bit much. Had he done something nasty to Jim that he didn’t remember? Was this some form of retaliation?
He still hadn’t come up with anything when Jim finally stumbled into his room late that afternoon.
“Dude, fuck you, you asshole. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he opened with. Just because he wasn’t entirely angry anymore didn’t mean he had forgiven Jim.
Jim actually stopped mid-stride, his expression surprised. “Sorry, what?”
“You!” said Andrew, his fists clenching in his bed sheets. “What was the big idea, sneaking in here in the middle of the night and doing something like that to me? Was that your messed-up, twisted idea of a joke?”
Jim was giving him a look like he was crazy. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know what your problem is, but I spent last night passed-out on Sammy’s couch after the party. Ask anyone who was there.”
Andrew paused for a moment, gaping. “But… the door was locked! And it was locked again this morning when I got up. There’s no way…” Even if someone else had managed to break into the room while it was locked, they couldn’t have locked the door again behind them. It had to have been Jim!
Jim was frowning at him. “Dude, what happened?” he asked.
Andrew opened his mouth to explain, but then shut it again. How was he supposed to tell Jim that he’d woken up with a dildo shoved up his ass? He couldn’t just say someone had played a prank on him; Jim would be sure to ask what it was. Andrew shook his head.
“Nothing, never mind,” he said. “It must’ve been a dream or something.”
Now Jim was looking at him like he was crazy again. “Okay, whatever man,” he said. “Anyway, I’m spending the weekend at my girlfriend’s. I just came to change and get some stuff. Then I’m gone.”
Andrew nodded, preoccupied. If it hadn’t been Jim… had it? No, Jim wouldn’t offer an alibi without expecting Andrew to check it. And he knew how deeply Jim passed out when he’d been drinking. Maybe… ah. Someone must’ve stolen Jim’s keys while he was out, then snuck in and done this. That simultaneously made things a whole lot better and a whole lot worse. On the one hand, it meant that whoever did it couldn’t do it again, since Jim obviously had his keys back. On the other hand, it meant that Andrew had no way of knowing who had done this to him, since anyone could have nabbed Jim’s keys at the party.
“Well, I’ll see you man,” Jim said, tossing him a wave as he strode out of the room.
“Yeah, see ya,” Andrew said half-heartedly. What should he do now? Just let it go? It seemed like the only thing he could do. He shrugged to himself and went to get his jacket. He’d go get dinner, ask the guys to make sure Jim really had been at the party last night, and see if anyone had seen someone stealing Jim’s keys. Although, knowing Sammy’s parties, he doubted anyone had been paying that much attention.
He was right. No one had been watching Jim closely enough to see his keys get stolen, although several of his friends verified that he had been at the party all night, mostly passed out on the couch. When pressed for an explanation, Andrew made up a story about something being stolen from their room. He took his leave from the boys as quickly as possible and returned to his room.
Well, there was no way now that he was going to find out who did it. Maybe it was best to put it behind him and not worry. It was with this thought in mind that he went to sleep that evening.
Andrew had strange, sensuous dreams that night, dreams of hands on his body and whispers in his ear. But they were darkly twisted, with a strange feeling of wrongness every time things started to become too pleasurable.
When he awoke the next morning, it was back. Andrew whimpered as he jolted into wakefulness, painfully hard from his dreams and once again impaled on the artificial phallus. It took more courage this time to take it out of himself. He wrapped his hand around the base and took several deep, gulping breaths. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He gritted his teeth, inhaled bracingly, and pulled.
It burned inside him once again as he drew it out. He tried to remove it quickly, like a band-aid, but his body seemed only willing to relinquish it at a tortuous pace. Andrew was silent, breathing hard, as it came out, and only cried out as the head finally passed through his anus and the toy popped out. With trembling fingers he stroked his own penis twice and came with a gulping sob.
That night, Andrew took no chances. In addition to locking the door, he also barricaded it with a chair propped under the handle, and a wardrobe against that. He checked the room’s windows to make sure that they were locked tight, even though their room was on the third story. When he finally went to bed, it took him hours to fall asleep.
But all his precautions were for nothing. Once again, he awoke with the black dildo buried inside him. He couldn’t even look at his roommate as Jim returned that morning to get ready for classes. All day he was unable to concentrate on any of his work, and when he finally went to bed that night, he couldn’t sleep.
‘I’ll stay awake,’ he thought. ‘I’ll stay awake and then I’ll catch the bastard that’s responsible for this.’ So he closed his eyes and feigned sleep, waiting for the intruder to come in once again.
But there was no one. Perhaps it was because Jim was there, but though he remained awake the entire night, no one came into Andrew’s room. As dawn crept through the window, Andrew’s anus was still blessedly free of intrusion.
‘Well,’ Andrew thought that day as he awoke and groggily dressed himself, ‘if Jim’s what it takes to keep whoever-it-is away, then I’m not sleeping alone ever again.’ Exhausted from his vigilance, he stumbled through his day and fell asleep quickly that night, with Jim curled up in the next bed over.
He awoke the next morning to Jim shaking his arm. “Hey, wake up Sleeping Beauty. You slept through your alarm. You’re gonna be late for class if you don’t start getting up now.”
“Mmph,” said Andrew, still exhausted from his night of missed sleep. He stretched, then stiffened in horror under the blankets as he realized: it was back. He lay in panicked silence as Jim moved nonchalantly around the room, getting ready. Finally his roommate hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and turned to leave the room. As he did, he glanced back at Andrew.
“Hey, you getting up?” he asked, then frowned. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”
“Oh yeah, um,” said Andrew, “I’m not really feeling well. Can you tell the professor I’m not going to be in class?”
Jim shrugged. “Sure. Feel better.” And he was out the door.
The second he left, Andrew was tugging the phallus out of himself once more. He was horrified that this had happened again. He had no idea how it was being done, but he was going to have to find a way to stop it.
Andrew quickly got dressed, hurriedly throwing on whatever came to hand. Then he grabbed the dildo. He hesitated for a moment, then tucked it under his shirt so no one would see it. Peering down the corridor in either direction, he hurried out of the building and around to the back, where he dropped the object of his misery into a large green dumpster. It clanged as it hit the bottom.
Feeling vindictive, Andrew didn’t stop there. He went to his car and brought back an orange container of gasoline, with which he doused the offending toy. Then, with a feeling of angry satisfaction, he lit a match and threw it into the dumpster.
He wanted to watch the thing burn himself, but the acrid smell of the burning rubber drove him away. He returned the gasoline to his car and climbed the steps up to his room, feeling quite a bit better than he had in days. Though that still didn’t stop him from locking the door that night and barricading it once again. Jim gave him a strange look at that, but humored him.
When he drew the phallus out of himself the next morning, after Jim had left, there was no sign of any damage by fire. In fact, Andrew was willing to bet it was merely an identical but different toy. Because there was no way that the one he had burned could look so pristine. But this did not solve his problem. Not at all.
Over the next two weeks, Andrew tried everything he could think of. He locked the doors and windows, he barricaded them, he slept in friends’ rooms or didn’t sleep at all, he went to bed wearing pants, even looked into purchasing a chastity belt (but decided they were too expensive, and besides which it would be impossible to get a hold of one without someone finding out). The only mornings he did not wake up with the black dildo inside him were the ones where he didn’t sleep at all, and he was incapable of keeping that up for more than a few nights in a row.
It finally happened one Friday night when Jim was once again at his girlfriend’s dorm and Andrew was trying desperately to stay awake for the third consecutive night. He was drifting off, but only lightly. His sleep felt almost like a trance, like he was unconscious but somehow aware of everything around him at the same time. He watched like a helpless voyeur as his own body threw off the blankets, pulled off the jeans he had been wearing, and got off the bed. His entranced form reached under the bed for the black, padlocked box there and drew it out, opening it easily with the combination. From the inside his hands lifted the black toy. He felt his own lips curve into a smile as he placed it on the white sheets and re-locked the empty container, sliding it back under the bed.
When he returned to the bed, his hands grabbed up the toy and spit on the head, before lowering it to his entrance and pushing. Andrew groaned as the phallus parted him, slipping inside his now well-accustomed anus. He rocked it inside himself a few times, then gave it a last little push to make sure it was in good and tight. Finally he reached down and grabbed his jeans from the floor, shimmying back into them on the bed, the toy still lodged inside him. When he was dressed again he pulled up the covers once more and drifted into a deeper slumber.
When Andrew removed the toy the next morning, he placed it in front of him and stared at it, as though it would provide him explanations. So. Somehow, he had been doing this to himself in his sleep. What did that mean? Sleepwalking? What did you even call fucking yourself in your sleep? It was no goddamn nocturnal emissions, that was for sure. Well then, if he was responsible, there was only one option. Andrew nodded to himself, and went to get supplies.
He found Jim later that afternoon with his girlfriend. With a smile to the girl (cute, and very sweet; a good catch for Jim), he drew his friend aside and pressed a small metal object into his hands.
“What’s this?” Jim asked, looking at it. “A key?”
Andrew nodded. “I need you to come into the room tomorrow morning. I’m going to be handcuffed to the headboard. I need you to unlock me.”
“Unlock you?” Jim looked startled, then grinned. “Oh, I see. Doing something kinky with-“
“Look, please just don’t ask,” Andrew interrupted. “Just do this for me, okay?”
“Yeah, sure man. Whatever,” said Jim.
Andrew nodded and sighed in relief, then returned to the room.
That night he slipped the metal handcuffs around a rung in the headboard and carefully manacled his own wrists. If he was doing this to himself, then he’d just have to stop himself. He felt strangely safe as he drifted off.
He awoke in the middle of the night to a sound. He blinked sleepily in the light of the full moon, which flooded the room with diurnal brightness. Then suddenly he gasped as he realized that a shadowy figure was standing at the foot of his bed. The sound came again; it was a low, pervasive, gravelly chuckle that vibrated through Andrew’s bones.
“My my,” said the stranger. His deep, rough voice seemed to seep into every pore of Andrew’s body. “What have we here?”
“Who are you?” Andrew gasped out, his own voice sounding thin and high by comparison.
The stranger did not answer, but merely lifted one leg to kneel on the end of Andrew’s bed. As he did so, his face came into the moonlight, and Andrew’s eyes widened.
He was not human, couldn’t have been. He appeared as though he had merely solidified from darkness, his skin smooth and pitch black, eyes two burning yellow slits in his face. His form was human in shape, but strange spikes and horns protruded from his limbs at the joints, elbows and shoulders ending in long, drawn-out points. As he raised his other knee to the bed and began to creep forward on all fours, stalking towards Andrew like a big cat, Andrew saw that even his fingertips ended in points.
“Who are you?” Andrew asked again in a panicked voice.
Once again the obsidian stranger said nothing, merely crept forward until he was straddling Andrew, his thighs pinning down Andrew’s legs. Then finally the deep, resounding voice returned. “Do you mean to tell me you do not recognize your lover?” the demon asked with a chuckle. “Truly, I am distraught. For weeks now I have plundered your body, and you do not even recognize me.”
“Y-you?” Andrew choked. “No. No, this can’t be real. This has to be a dream.”
“By all means, believe that,” the demon said, “if it will make it easier for you.” He reached down and grabbed one of Andrew’s legs in each hand, moving them out from under himself and pushing them back so that the boy’s knees rested against his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” Andrew yelped. “Stop! Let go of me!”
“You speak too much,” said the demon, and placed his hand across Andrew’s mouth. When he removed it a few seconds later, some of the darkness seemed to remain behind, dripping from his touch, covering Andrew’s mouth. Andrew tried to yell, but all he could do was make inarticulate noises behind the gag.
With a dark smile that showed pointed teeth—also pitch black, like the rest of him, and nearly disappearing against the equal darkness of his mouth, the stranger resumed his task. He pressed Andrew’s legs back once more, and leaned into him.
Andrew felt a familiar pressure at his anus. By now he knew this size and shape very well, and it was almost without pain that the demon’s phallus slid inside him, filling him up to the brim. Andrew cried out behind the gag as the demon began to fuck him, sliding in and out with slow, sensuous, but very forceful movements. He whimpered each time the stranger struck home, the full length of the enormous cock buried inside him, then gasped sobbingly as the burning length was drawn out of him once more.
It seemed hours that the demon continued relentlessly to thrust into him. Eventually pleasure overcame the pain of his penetration, and Andrew grew hard. But even when he came, the demon did not stop. He just continued to pound, like a machine, into his anus, never stopping, never slowing, just sensuously fucking him over and over.
It went on so long that the pleasure had faded back into pain when finally the demon’s thrusts began to speed up. He leaned forward as he continued to grind his pelvis against Andrew’s ass. “You have bound yourself of your own will,” he murmured, his voice grinding into Andrew just as much as his cock. “In doing so, you have pledged yourself to me. You are now mine.” And the thrusts continued to speed up and continued until Andrew couldn’t keep track of them any more through the pain and the haze of the force. He screamed behind the gag as the demon’s rape reached a breakneck pace.
And then suddenly the demon stilled, and Andrew felt the dark being’s essence spill into him, filling him up. It seemed to go on and on and on, until suddenly Andrew realized that it really was literally filling him. He could feel something inside him, filling him up like a vessel, feel it crawling against the inside of his skin, flowing into his limbs, down the insides of his legs and up into his arms. He felt it in his chest, seeping up into his neck, into his head, felt it fill him there and spill out. The blackness of the gag over his mouth began suddenly to expand, to drip like a liquid down his face. From his eyes ran dark tears, black tears that left black trails on his skin and spread, consuming the pale flesh, running down his cheeks to his neck. Trickles joined each other and became rivers of darkness, spilling across his skin and covering it, covering him in pitch black.
As the last of his flesh was absorbed by the darkness, the world of Andrew’s consciousness narrowed only to the point of penetration, to the demon’s phallus inside him, and then ceased to exist altogether.
“Andrew?” Jim called as he entered the room the next morning. “You here?” It was strange that his roommate was out, especially when he had specifically asked Jim to come ‘unlock’ him. Jim grinned to himself. Well, maybe whatever kinky girl he had found himself had decided not to tie him up after all. Or—as he suddenly spotted the empty handcuffs wrapped around the headboard—maybe she had just unlocked him herself.
Jim grinned and stepped towards the bed, then frowned as something dark on the sheets caught his eye. He looked closer, then whistled under his breath. Kinky indeed. He grinned. In the center of the bed was a large, black dildo.