CW: physical violence, bullying, SPH, spit, coerced sex, forced drinking & weed use. This one gets a little rough in the middle. Let me know if there should be a part II. Enjoy.
I can't reply to anonymous messages, so if you want a question answered you need to use an email when you send a message or leave a comment here. I get a LOT of questions from anonymous senders that I'd love to be able to respond to. Thanks!
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There was no love lost between me and Roger Duffman. In college we had loathed each other, running in the same circles but rubbing each other the wrong way. We belonged to rival frats, and while I was a co-captain of our soccer team, he had been a star of the rugby union and played club hockey. Unfortunately he remained a fixture on the periphery of my post-collegiate group of friends, several of whom played in a recreational rugby league with him. More recently, about a year ago, he had begun dating my ex-girlfriend Kara. This was immediately after we broke up, and it was pretty obvious he had been hitting it when I was still with her, too. They were through now, though, from what I heard.
Frankly I couldn't grasp what Kara ever saw in him. Maybe after going out with a good looking guy like me, the slut needed a caveman to make her feel pretty. "Duff" was very much a neanderthal - big furrowed brow and perpetual scowl on his face, a barrel chest, a big beer belly but muscled arms and a thick coating of body hair that made little distinction between chest, shoulders, and back. Even in college his hairline had been aggressively receding and now he was bald, with just a closely buzzed pate of dark hair. Kara must have been reeling from me and needed to fuck some big ugly guy to nurse her ego.
At 26 I was still in a love-'em-and-leave-'em mindset that being a good-looking guy permitted me. I know it sounds arrogant but I'm hot, a handsome face and great body. I was hot enough that I can get pretty much any girl I want. But the idea that she might have been cheating on me with that baboon still made me feel sick.
So I was not excited when I saw him swagger into my gym, winking at me in the mirror as he pressed an amount of weight over his head an order of magnitude heavier than I could ever lift. I was even less pleased when he followed me into the gym's gang showers. Sidled right up next to me even though there were plenty of available shower heads.
"Hey Dougie, long time no see. How's it hanging?" He turned his big naked body toward me as he looked me in the eye. I looked down and saw that his wide, hairy feet were planted about two feet away from me. Duff was flagrantly violating multiple provisions of Guy Code.
"Sup." I said dismissively, turning from him. He leaned over, looking down at my groin, and whistled.
"Not hanging much at all, by the looks of it. Just sort of... poking out." He said, his eyes locked on my junk as he gestured with his pinky finger illustratively. His brazen innuendo was shocking, and I felt a warm rush of humiliation wash over me. Another Guy Code violation, talking about another guy's junk. Yet it was true. After exercise, my dick always shrinks up, retracts. I just had a little peanut at the moment, a little pecker. Compared to the big thing he had hanging, which I had caught glances of out of the corner of my eye, I was outmanned. I felt my face and chest bloom red in embarrassment.
"Fuck off, faggot." I spit out, not able to look at him. He chuckled at me.
"Bro get my back for me." He asked, presenting his broad, hairy back and equally furry ass to me, laughing with his back to me. I ignored him but stole a glance at his body. He had a tattoo that wrapped around his right love handle and stretched along the side to his stomach, one of those big blocks of writing, then some tribal crap on his left shoulder and bicep, as well as third of a snake that coiled around his thigh.
"Oh, come on, just because I fucked your girl doesn't mean we can't be friends." He turned to me again, a fiendish smile on his face.
"Well I was done with the slut. I feel sorry for her, going from me to an ugly fuck like you. How'd my dick taste?" I shot off, summoning all the false bravado I could muster. He chortled, and took a step towards me.
"Dougie, look between my legs then look between yours. Kara made a BIG step up." He shook his hog at me, a cocky shit-eating grin on his face.
I gasped a bit, both at the size of the endowment and his boldness in showing it off to me. Duff was well hung, no doubt about it- I don't think I'd ever seen one that big. Completely flaccid it hung mid-thigh, and it slapped noisily against his wet skin as he played with it shamelessly.
I felt paralyzed. On the team, guys had talked about sex and dicks in the showers and locker room. There had even been some teasing of the littler ones like mine, but never so openly had a man bragged about his cock size while belittling mine. And Duff wasn't my teammate, far from it. He was my enemy.
"You know what else, little man? Kara told me how much you liked taking her strap on right up your ass." He gestured lewdly with two big fingers, pointing them upwards while twisting his wrist.
My stomach dropped and my face went red with . I can't believe she had told an asshole like Roger Duffman details about our experiments in the bedroom.
"Oh yeah. She said you'd moan like a bitch and your little dick would leak just like a pussy." He laughed. I just grumbled to myself.
"I don't judge man. Nothing wrong with being a homo." He spoke with mock sincerity. Then he slapped my shoulder to get my attention, making me look at him.
"You try the real thing yet, Dougie?" He was wagging his hardening cock at me. I looked at the over-sized cudgel of red flesh slapping around his belly and thighs, for far too long I gaped at it before finally finding my words.
"Go fuck yourself." I spat out.
"Fuck myself? No, see I think you'd rather I bend you over and fuck you right up that little ass of yours. Kara said you told her you always wanted to try it." He winked and shook his hard-on at me again. It was huge! Again I felt the gnawing urge to stare at it openly, to admire it.
I forced myself to turn away, focusing on finishing my shower as quickly as possible.
"Come on Dougie, I know you're curious. You'd have to be curious to take a big fucking dildo up your asshole. I know you want to try the real thing. And look at it, Dougie. Look how big I am. This is as real as it gets." I stole one last peak at hig big hard hog that he openly pumped and wanked it in his thick hairy hand. Duffman's cruel laughter filled the shower room, rich with triumph that I couldn't help but steal another glimpse at his manhood.
"You're one sick faggot." I grumbled, then slammed my fist against the faucet to turn off the shower, turning my back from him and exiting in a hurry.
-
I tried to put the encounter out of my head, but later that afternoon I got a text from an unknown number. It was a photo message.
The photo was taken in a bathroom mirror speckled with flecks of toothpaste and grime. It showed a rhino wide torso, soft belly coated in dark hair, leading down to a big hairy unkempt bush, and a truly huge hard, red cock. I recognized the tattooed paragraph of text on his right flank, half of some famous quote. At the bottom of the photo two stocky thighs spread, and a pair of big balls, held tightly in a furry crimson sack that was pulled up against the bottom of the massive boner. A green and black tattoo of a snake coiled around the bottom of the sender's right thigh. But the cock was of course the focal point of the photo, standing up rigidly at an angle, grazing well past the man's belly button.
The cock. It looked beer can thick, the tightly stretched scarlet skin wreathed in swirling purple and blue veins. It was crowned by a big head. Bellend. That's what Brits called the glans. It looked like a bell, big, wide, and heavy.
I blushed. My face was warm and my vision blurred. It felt so strange to receive a dick pic. I felt violated. Sickened almost. It felt like an insult to my own manhood, to have this appearing on my phone without any warning. Is this how chicks feel when guys send them unsolicited dick pics? I could see that the sender was typing a message.
"You seemed to like what you saw in the showers. Figured I'd give you something to drool over."
I began to compose a response in my head, restarting several times, when I got a second message.
"Jerk off material while you ride your dildos lol" Followed by three eggplant emojis.
"I know you like it buttboy." Another text teased.
Another photo inserted itself into the message thread. This one was taken at an angle, held up by his chubby finger. It showed off how thick and long his rod was. It looked even more impressive in this shot, like he was holding up a thick dagger from his groin, or a police baton.
"For comparison." The third photo was from top down, so I could see Duff's hairy feet. He needed to clip his toe nails. In his hand he held a bottle, pressed just below his fuzzy belly. But his rampant hard was much longer than the Heineken, and almost as thick as the bottle's wide body . My heart was pounding in my chest. Duff was massive. Another message was being drafted.
"It's big right?" His text insisted.
I decided not to respond to him, not engage. Why would he send these to me?
"Certainly bigger than this little thing." Another text followed by a laughing emoji.
My stomach dropped. It was a photo of me from at least a year ago. I was sitting on Kara's bed, my head thrown back drinking a beer, my eyes slightly red from a long night of partying but fully recognizable. I was completely naked. From between my legs my hard penis emerged, topped by a trimmed, light-colored bush. It was a bad angle and I was in a bad position for a dick pic, with my legs closer to the frame and my hips sunk back. My hand holding the bottle which clearly dwarfed my boner.
