Tommy sometimes wonders if he has somehow slipped into some strange parallel reality, a distorted fun-house mirror of his old life.
His days in the priest’s apartment—the rectory, as he is gleefully told that it is called—are full of familiar faces twisted into unfamiliar sneers. His new “customers” are all his father’s friends, people he knows, or knew once. But here he sees sides of them he never imagined as they plunder his body without shame or hesitation.
There is, of course, Father Lawrence, conveniently close by every Sunday. Based on some things he’s let slip, Tommy is pretty sure that regular access to his body is the price Father Lawrence is being paid for Tommy’s new residence. Regardless, he finds himself the method by which the Father unwinds after giving his sermons. To Father Lawrence, Tommy is a repentant supplicant begging for forgiveness: “for your sins, you must take fifty thrusts to the ass and then humbly drink my cum, amen.”
Father Lawrence fancies himself God with Tommy, doling out punishment and forgiveness as he sees fit. Tommy is a sinful whore who must show his dedication to the lord by prostrating himself and offering up his body for any and all uses. Father Lawrence’s approach is methodical and unrelenting, all of his focus on punishing Tommy for the behaviors that are being imposed upon him. With Father Lawrence, Tommy can expect to have his hair pulled, to be forced into positions of kneeling and humility, to be told exactly how dirty and debased he is as Father Lawrence comes on his face.
But he is not the only one from Tommy’s past that partakes. Mr. Veigel is the football coach from Tommy’s old school. For him, Tommy is every boy in the locker rooms that the coach has lustfully eyed as they changed or showered. “Show Coach V what you’ve got,” he murmurs lasciviously as he stands behind Tommy and sticks his hands down the front of Tommy’s pants.
Coach V is anything but gentle. Before Tommy even undresses, the coach is behind him and feeling him up, running large calloused hands all over his body, mercilessly tweaking his nipples and fondling his crotch. He rubs his bulge suggestively against Tommy’s ass through both their clothes, whispering things in Tommy’s ear that Tommy doesn’t want to think too deeply about.
“Ooo, you slut. Changing in front of me like that. You think that won’t get a man riled up, seeing your pert little body? You think you can just show off your sweet little ass like that with no consequences?”
Coach V grabs Tommy by the hair and forces him to knees on the floor, clothes disheveled and half off. He allows Tommy no control, immediately jamming his cock into the boy’s mouth and holding his head steady as he thrusts. “Yeah,” he mutters as he fucks Tommy’s face, “that’ll teach you to tempt me, boy. Enjoy the consequences. My dick’ll teach you a lesson.”
It’s all Tommy can do to breathe through the harsh choking motions and hang on as Coach V thrusts into his mouth as hard and fast as he can. He gags Tommy multiple times, chuckling every time he feels the boy’s throat spasm. When he finally comes, he pulls out and splatters his jizz right between Tommy’s eyes. Tommy bites his lip and waits to hear what the man wants from him next.
“Lookin’ a little dirty there,” the Coach says with a chuckle, smearing the cum into Tommy’s hair. “Maybe you should hit the showers.”
Tommy swallows but doesn’t protest. He knows better than to do so at this point. Instead he walks to the bathroom; he hears the coach quietly following him. Tommy slowly disrobes and gets into the shower, turning on the warm spray. He rinses the jizz off his face first, but figures that while he’s here he might as well take advantage of the reprieve. Feeling the coach’s eyes on him, he steadily lathers himself up with and begins to scrub at his body, wishing he could wash away the crawling sense of violation in his skin.
He’s unsurprised when, some ten minutes into the shower, he feels the coach come up behind him once more.
“Oh hey,” says the man’s gruff voice, “I think you dropped this.” Without warning he grabs Tommy’s neck and bends him forward, nearly in half. He puts a knee between the boy’s legs to spread them open and then Tommy feels a slippery pressure as the coach picks up a bar of soap and begins to rub it up and down along the crack of the boy’s ass. Every time he passes over the boy’s anus he pushes a little harder, teasingly, as though he’s about to shove the bar inside him. Tommy desperately hopes he doesn’t go through with it; he’s not sure how hard it would be to get it back out again.
But in the end it’s not the soap that goes up his ass. After a minute or two of teasing him, and lathering up his crack, the coach unzips his fly once more and shoves his once again rock-hard cock into Tommy’s hole. He keeps Tommy bent sharply forward, hands bracing against the side of the tub down by his knees, as he fiercely attacks Tommy’s rectum, slamming into it for all he’s worth, yanking back on Tommy’s hips to get himself as deep inside as possible. He laughs as he does it, a twisted, indulgent sound that makes Tommy wonder how many times he’s imagined this. How many boys is Tommy standing in for? How many youths have showered under the coach’s fantasizing gaze while the man imagined doing to them exactly what he’s doing to Tommy right now?
The coach comes hard up Tommy’s ass. That time. It’s not his only visit; sometimes he takes Tommy on the bed, folding him nearly in half and forcing the boy to hold his own ankles as he mercilessly slams Tommy’s hole. Sometimes he bends him over the bench seat at the little table in the kitchenette, a stand-in for the benches in the locker room. But the shower is a favorite of his, and he returns to it time and again, ambushing Tommy while he’s cleaning himself and having his way with the young body, coming in his hair, on his face, even sometimes jacking off into the boy’s armpits. And again and again into Tommy’s ass, his preferred orifice.
The coach isn’t the only man with fantasies. Mr. Green was Tommy’s ninth grade homeroom teacher briefly, before he ran away. He is young and tawny-haired and handsome, a contrast to the older, beefier body of the coach. He makes his own visits; another one of Tommy’s regulars. His desires are much softer, but in ways that Tommy somehow finds even more disturbing.
Unclothed, lying in bed together, Mr. Green takes Tommy’s face in his hands and kisses him deeply before grinding their hips together, pulling Tommy flush against him. His hard cock rubs teasingly against Tommy’s inner thigh.
“Mm,” Mr. Green murmurs into his ear. “That’s right. Doesn’t it feel good? I know you’ve always secretly wanted this, haven’t you? That’s why you keep throwing me all those glances in class. You hoped this would happen.”
Tommy certainly hadn’t been throwing him any glances, even before he ran away, but he’s pretty sure Mr. Green isn’t really talking to him anyway, not in the depths of his mind. He tries not to respond too positively, out of some kind of distant feeling of empathy with whatever poor schmuck is the actual target of the teacher’s attentions, not wanting to fuel the man’s delusions.
But it matters little. Mr. Green insists that they “make love,” as he calls it. He takes his time, spooning Tommy and allowing his hands to roam all over the boy’s body, exploring it at leisure. He spreads the lube inside Tommy himself, taking his time to work open the boy’s entrance with curious, enamored fingers and using his other hand to pump Tommy’s cock until he can’t help but get hard.
When he finally slips his cock up into Tommy he is leisurely and gentle about it, sliding easily into the well-prepared passage. The thrusts of his hips are indulgent, steady, and deep. He kisses the base of Tommy’s neck as he fucks him slow, whispering against his skin. “Yeeees, that’s it,” he murmurs. “Open up for me. That’s right. Take it all the way in baby. Take all of me up inside you.”
Mr. Green always insists that Tommy comes first before the teacher comes inside him. Sometimes this is a tall ask, but the man will work him insistently, fisting his cock steadily and efficiently as he continues to thrust into Tommy’s ass over and over, a monument to self-control as he waits for Tommy’s orgasm, however unwilling, before relenting and graciously gifting Tommy with his own, pouring his seed deep into the boy’s body.
These three men are the most regular customers, but they are certainly not the only ones. A parade of men pass through Tommy’s new lodgings, some that he recognizes and some that he does not. They use his body as they please, sometimes for hours on end, until Tommy’s hole learns to perform on cue: opening up eagerly to allow a thick cock to slide inside or clenching tight on a man’s member to increase his pleasure. It becomes a strange, hellish routine as his body begins to take what sensations it can get, acclimatizing more and more to being relentlessly, unendingly fucked.
His father’s appearances are rare. So it’s a surprise when one day he walks in with one of his old fishing buddies that Tommy vaguely recognizes and doesn’t immediately leave. He locks the door behind him and takes a seat on the armchair in the corner opposite the bed, his eyes on his son.
Tommy is confused and embarrassed as the fishing buddy—Bill, he’s pretty sure?—approaches him and begins to disrobe him. His father says nothing, just watches with a sort of vague, detached interest.
He watches as Bill removes Tommy’s clothing. He watches as Bill sticks fumbling fingers up Tommy’s pre-lubed hole. He watches as Bill forces his cock into his son’s mouth, ordering him to “get that nice and wetted up.” He watches as, a few minutes later, the man takes his dripping wet cock out of Tommy’s mouth, turns him around and bends him over the edge of the bed. He watches Bill’s cock disappear, slow and steady, up his son’s ass.
Tommy is crimson with embarrassment he didn’t think he could feel anymore as his father’s friend fucks him under his dad’s watchful gaze. His father is clearly hard, but doesn’t move to touch himself while his son is being fucked. He waits, continuing his observation as Bill thrusts and thrusts and thrusts up Tommy’s ass, finally coming into him in desperate spurts.
It’s not the last time it happens, either. Tommy’s father becomes a rare but regular visitor, never touching but always watching, enjoying the wide variety of ways in which the customers abuse his son. Some of the men make a show of it, displaying Tommy’s debauched hole for his father, making sure he can see exactly what’s being done to the boy. Some of the men seem to forget he’s there altogether, talking dirty to Tommy or having him talk dirty to them, lost in their own worlds of lust and pleasure. Each time, his father’s eyes bore into him, patient and scornful.
It’s not until the other man leaves and Tommy is lying exhausted on the bed that his father will finally approach him. Each time, as the door closes behind whatever guest has most recently violated his son, he rises from his chair and comes to stand beside him. He will undo the fly on his pants and take out a cock rock-hard from watching his son’s debasement, pumping it only two or three times before he comes on Tommy’s face. Then he will clean himself up quickly and leave. This, Tommy has learned, is how his father says goodbye.
Like everything else his customers do to him, Tommy eventually learns to take what affection he can get, and comes to treasure the hot splash of his father’s parting cum gushing onto his eager face.