Bred for This

Seven days ago, I started being able to record my time here. I don't know where it is that I am, but I know that I'm away from whatever it is I feel I remember. I don't know who I am or what I look like, I know what animals are and I know what social media is. I know I am male, about six feet and bigger than most women. All my needs are met, but I do not know who is providing. My life is filled with enjoyment, but rarely different types. When I look in the mirror, I see someone but then forget who it is.

This morning I woke up and saw six scratches on my window. For a moment, my brain flashes an image of the first one and I feel different. The air smells the same, but older. I feel the same but my skin irritates me. I feel only a little hunger. The window in my room has a view of a grassy field and sometimes I see airplanes fly in it. They are always going, and I got in trouble for watching them too much. I don't understand.

When I watch them at night, I wonder who is on them and where they are going. I wonder why I am watching and not going. When the staff caught me, I felt a presence of fear strike me. Somehow other people can tell what you are thinking.

I took some medicine and re-education classes five days ago. I think I feel better, but I am not sure. My clients say that I am more responsive so I have been available more. There's a digital clock embedded into the wall of my room. Only fifteen more minutes before I have my first client. He's an older gentleman. I get up and walk into the bathroom. Everything here is simple and clean. We are taught to clean them after every use. I grab an enema bulb from the cabinet and turn on the water. Since I only wear a jockstrap, I squat and inject myself with water after filling the bulb.

Positioning my ass over the toilet, I spread my cheeks apart and point my hole. The exercises we are required to do keep our body fat low and our skin tight. My glutes are somewhat big, so I use my hands. The water splashes in the toilet and is as clean as it was from the sink. I squeeze a few more drops and pat myself with toilet paper. The wet part of the paper isn't colored, so I'm fine.

After I flush and spray myself with a body deodorizers, the doorbell rings. My head starts to hurt for a moment, but then I find myself on my knees, my back lying against the side of my bed. The door opens and I start to feel a little high as my client walks in. I still do not know why I can see him, but I cannot see myself. He is a forty-five year old Latin American. He is very small, about five feet five inches. Compared to mine, his body is petite. I wear a size twelve in shoe and I am sure he wears seven or lower. I think he has a condition. Something about his body halting the aging process. He is healthy, but has the body of a boy. Due to his age, he looks no bigger than a short Asian woman.

There is a difference between him and an Asian woman though. He sits down in my chair and pulled his shorts down. I smell the stench of his privates fly out into the air. He flexes his cock and I can hear it hit the cushion of the chair. As I draw closer I can remember that I am supposed to watch it grow and wait for his command. He waves his growing thick cock in front of my eyes. His girth is smaller than mine at the base, but grows considerably. The head of his penis is bigger than most and appears too big. He is cut and the head of his penis is shaped like a mushroom, the entire thing is round and swollen.

We are taught a certain technique for these types of cocks. I quickly gobble the head into my mouth after he pulled the back of my head down on him. I roll my wet tongue around my mouth, sloshing the tip of his penis in my spit. The technique teaches us to try and suckle on it like candy that gets better with more saliva. My mouth soon fills with too much saliva and I take his whole penis, trying to gulp his mushroom head down my throat. The dry parts of his cock slide around in my mouth and I can feel his head flare in my gullet.

This goes on for a while longer and then he has me lick him from the underside of his balls up to his shaft. When he tells me to go faster, he starts to slide his cock across my face and orders me to, 'lap up his cock.' After thirty minutes my chest is cold and wet with my own spit and he is standing behind me sliding his cock in between my ass cheeks. He orders the computer to put a screen of him behind me in doggy style in front of us so we can watch. I changed into these pink male panties that come with a pretty bow-tie. My cock and balls are impossible for me to get to. The fabric is see-through and is designed to hold the pouch tight. The lace on my package engorge me, but I can only get so hard through tight fabric. I feel a little helpless.

His balls are much bigger than mine. I feel the pain of his mushroom head stretch my hole but then my head hurts and a wave of pleasure comes right after. The high I experience is intense now, and I feel my bottom fill up. I wiggle back on his dick and flare my ass outwards. His hairy, thick ball sack dangles over my hairless coin purse. He starts to thrust and all feels right in the world. Somehow I remember that this is my place as I feel my thighs and glutes spread apart with every thrust. I feel the lightning of his cock in me and the thunder of his balls pounding after.

As he gets closer, I feel my mind wade between sexual pleasure, the high that is being fed to me in my brain and how I must feel. I start to ignore my own desires, and my own pleasure. Bringing the rest of my top down, I get on all fours with my ass up and face down. My back is arched so that he doesn't have to move. A few times he pounded me hard and my face slid on the floor. He laughed as he slipped out of me and tapped the head of his penis on my wet hole. The squishy sound of him sliding back in me echoes as he begins to thrust full force. His breathing pics up and his pace changes. Each of his fingers clasps around my thighs and he pulls me back and thrusts hard and moans as loud as he can. I can't help but feel his cock move inside of me, twitching slightly. He pulls out and cum slides down from my hole on to my balls and sticks there. I'm not supposed to move. When a client finishes, which is usually by orgasm, we are to remain in whatever position we were in, or a visually pleasing one.

As he puts on his clothes and helps himself to the towelettes soaked in sanitizer, his cum continues to slide out as my hole tightens and releases from his hard fuck. He gets up and puts a hand on one dry ass cheek and rolls it around. He slaps it with a single hand, watching my flesh jiggle and leaves, telling me how good my ass was again. I say thank you.

Alone, my mind clicks over to something and I stand up, using my hands to prevent his cum from falling on the floor. I wipe most of it on myself. After a shower and a quick cleaning session, I am back in my jockstrap and lying down in my bed. Two times show on my clock, the current time and an hour for my next client.