My Name Is Dave

Hi. I'm Dave and this is my story. Let me tell you a little about myself.

I am six foot even, 155 pounds with shortish blonde hair, and blue eyes. I am thin, but with strong legs and ass. I have light body hair, a fair complexion, but I can hold a tan. I think I've got a nice body; I'd fuck me if I had the chance. I am twenty-four years old, two years out of college and waiting to see about grad school and what to do with my life.

I consider myself sexual. Bisexual if you like, but I think of it in sexual vs. romantic rather than bi vs gay vs hetero. I have always had a sexual attraction for both genders, but a romantic attraction to neither. Sex was an act unto itself, not the further expression of love. That would have been all fine and dandy as a way to go through life, but did I mention that I am shy and horrible at making initial contact? I can be a black hole of conversation until I am comfortable around people. This makes it very hard to get into the hookup culture. Strong sex drive, good looks and body and zero social skills; that's me.

I would not say I was closeted, I just didn't talk about sex or sexuality. I figured that was my business. Besides, I really had not had much experience with either gender so most talk was purely theoretical at this point. I let people think what they wanted to think and most people seemed to default me into hetero. Whatever. I'm Dave and that is all they need to know.

I had been in Nashville for about a year. I had gone there from up North to live somewhere else for a while. I had lived in the same town for middle and high school and gone close by for college. I wanted to get out and have a chance to create my own identity as an adult or at least live somewhere no one knew me. I planned on staying until I found out what I wanted to do next or just got tired of being here and moved on. I would have bet on the second. I was mostly living off money my grandparents left me, but I'd supplement it by working part time as a barista in a local coffee shop. And I could live fairly cheaply, too.

I lived in a, well, quiet would not describe it, but less traveled area of the city. Technically, I was in between one of the small towns that radiate outward from Nashville (though all part of Nashville proper) and the city itself. It was a strange area, we had the mini-marts catering to the commuters coming in and out of the city, and mostly there was a lot of driving and not many sidewalks. It was a mix of open spaces, light industry, warehouses, and a few one street housing developments or apartment buildings scattered seemingly at random. A big four lane highway was the main drag and I lived on a dead end street off of that. I really could not call it a cul-de-sac because it just ended at the river. I was about a half mile down the road, down a hill and around a curve. I didn't get much noise from the highway, but I got it from other places.

It was a duplex built into the side of the hill. My landlady lived next door, but with separate driveways on opposite ends of the house, we rarely crossed paths. The duplex had a garage basement and I used that mostly for coming and going, the front door was mostly decorative. The basement had originally just been unfinished garage space, but one of the earlier tenants had built a windowless bedroom out of part of it. My last roommate had used it as a music practice room. Upstairs, I had two more bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and one and a half baths. It was a lot of space for one person, and I was getting it dirt cheap.

At first I could not understand how so much space could be so inexpensive, especially in a city that was becoming as expensive as Nashville. I soon figured it out. First, the place had a decent sized yard, but little of it was usable. The front and one side were all hill. Another side was the landlady, but out the backdoor there was a covered patio that led right into another steep hill. The view from the backdoor was a green wall. Then, there were the high tension lines that ran right over the house. I'm not sure what the long term health effects of that were, but I figure someday I'll find out. Finally, there were the airplanes. The house was right under one of the departing flightpaths from BNA, and the roar and rattle of jet engines soon became part of the background noise of my life. Not the greatest location, but cheap and cheap enough that I was in no hurry to replace the roommate who had left to join a touring bluegrass band.

I was pretty much alone in the city and, aside from a few beers with work acquaintances, had not made any real connections. I'd had a roommate, but he had left. My rent was cheap, so I didn't need an immediate replacement. I liked having my own space.

Besides, I had another project in mind and I did not want to have to arrange this around a roommate.

I wanted to get fucked in the ass. And not just fucked, but tied up and fucked hard. I'd had more than my share of rape fantasies and thought that, in the right safe environment, it might be time to act on them. If I was going to do this, I was going to do this big and right. It would be worth my time.

Why anal? Why do I like chocolate cake? It's just the way I'm wired, I guess. But I have always wanted to have someone do me in the ass. More than that, I want to have someone force me to do it. I liked the idea of being desired, of being forced, to be used as a sex object.

I was not in a "pursuing woman" phase. I tended to either be into women or men at any time, but never both. My desire for sex with women was in a different place in me than my desire for sex with men. Generally, I liked to fuck women and get fucked by men. At least in theory, in reality I'd fucked one girl and blown (and been blown by) one guy. Not exactly a stellar resumé for 24.

I had been having the urge to get fucked and since there was no roommate to worry about at the moment, I decided to make this a reality. I was extremely sexually wound up. It had been a year and a half since the last time I had any sexual contact with another person and my body was electric. I would spank it at least three times every day and was still ready to explode with pent up sexual energy. I needed another person in my sex life.

But I thought I had found a solution when I had stumbled on a site called "Predator or Prey".

Predator or Prey

What is Predator or Prey? Well, I found it while searching for ways to fulfill my "Dave Gets His Ass Fucked" project. I knew what I wanted and, as desperate as the need had become now that I was taking it seriously, I was not going to settle for less.

The site was where predators (the fuckers) met up with prey (the fucked). Members would fill out a profile and post it saying what you were looking for and what was okay and off limits. Members created scenarios in which predator fucks prey. Given the nature of the game, these tended to involve a lot of bondage, rape and submission. Predator and prey would message and work out the exact details of what they were going to do and put it into a formal binding agreement.

The agreements were the lifeblood of Predator or Prey. You could get rated for performance, but what really mattered was how well you followed all of your agreements. Too many times not completely fulfilling every part of the agreement would get you a bad reputation, less opportunities and could put you on probation. If you broke an agreement, did a no show or called it off midway through, you were suspended for six months for the first one and kicked out for the second.

It was just what I was looking for.

The mechanics were fairly simple. You either signed up as predator or prey. Becoming a predator was a little more complicated, but being a prey just involved making a profile and posting it with a few pictures. At first, you were probationary. You had to complete three agreements and get recommendations from your predators. Once you were established, you could start posting your own scenarios and had more power to be choosy.

As a first timer, I would post my profile and wait for responses from established predators, but could not initiate contact. It was designed so I would not have much power or control of the situation and that was fine by me. I could communicate with them, make sure we were on the same page, before choosing one. I could pick my predator from among those who had contacted me and the scenario the predator had selected, even negotiate the details. An agreement would then be formalized, e-signed by both parties and submitted to the site. Then the predator would meet the prey...

I wrote my profile. "White male, 23, 6', 150 lbs., Blonde hair, blue eyes. Anal Virgin." Basic. There were many options, I knew I could change them later. I checked yes for bondage, anal, rape, lube and a few other ones. I left off oral, I could save that for a second time, if there was a second time. I posted a few body pictures including four of my butt. I thought I looked pretty fuckable. Now to see what the men who might be doing that thought.

I took a deep breath and pushed submit. I was offering myself up for sexual use. I felt deliciously dirty.

I climbed into bed and spanked it three or four times imagining what could happen.

I woke up after a fitful night sleep and decided to check my messages. I was hoping for one or two, maybe nothing decent yet, but some spank fuel for a couple of days. I was naked, as was my habit after a few weeks of living alone, got the coffee going and fired up my laptop. By the time I took my first piss of the day, my morning wood was going.

I poured a cup of coffee and sat down in front of the laptop. I saw that I had 186 responses, wait, 187. My cock quickly came back to attention. There were a lot of men out there who wanted to fuck me. Almost two thirds were not from around the area, so I eliminated them (though I bookmarked a few for perusing later). Another big chunk was quickly eliminated because they involved stuff I just did not want to do, like fisting or pissing. Crossdressing or daddy play got the axe too. Not my thing.

There seemed to be an inordinate fascination with locker rooms, bath rooms and prison. The prison ones might be explored later, but I put them on the no pile for now. I wanted the place I lost my anal virginity to smell nice. I thought about one in a barn (hay, not manure), another outside.

I was kind of picky in what I was looking for in a man. Age: 30-40. I liked him being older and more experienced than me but not much older. Nice body, decent cock, likes to fuck hot blonde guys like me.

There was one, GreedySteve, who really seemed to get my dick harder than the rest. He was local, thirty-five years old. The pictures were good, he had a strong looking body with not much hair. Big, broad chest and muscular tattooed arms, deep tan. A hint of a spare tire starting to form around his waist, but still very fit. The cock pictures were mesmerizing. It's one thing to look at a cock in the abstract, but it is quite another to look at the cock with the knowledge that it could be in my ass. He said it was seven inches, to my untrained eye it looked at least an inch longer. It looked intimidating.

GreedySteve's scenario he was offering matched one of my recurring fantasies. He would "break in" to the house and find my luscious piece of ass sleeping. Ties me up, fucks the hell out of me, then leaves. Simple. I liked the tying up and anal rape part of it, that met my first requirement. I also liked that it was happening in my home, he was coming into my space to violate me.

I realized that letting him know where I lived might not be the best idea, but I lived on a month to month lease with no real ties to the town, I could be out of there and in another state in two weeks. The thought of blackmail crossed my mind, too. Assuming I just didn't choose to do whatever he was blackmailing me in to, I wasn't too worried either. No one in Nashville would care I took it in the ass and I don't think anyone in my family would be surprised.

He also had it set up so I did not know exactly when it would happen. It would happen on a night he determined sometime within a one week period. This would leave me thinking any night could be it until he decided to come. I did not like that part.

The basic rules were easy to set: anal, bondage, rape, lube, condom and a whole lot of things that were off limits. I was okay with just about everything except for the open date. I would like to try to plan my life and it's hard when sometime within a week a guy is supposed to show up and rape you. It was worse than waiting for the cable guy.

Some of the predators were open to negotiate the scenarios and terms. GreedySteve was not. I asked him how he got his name. He told me "because my name is Steve and I always try to get more than my share."

Any counter offer on my part was met by him returning his original scenario. I even offered to throw in oral if he would pin down a date and he sent back the original offer. When I finally asked him why, he said "If I am going to fuck you, that is how I am going to do it. I don't want to romance you or make love to you, I just want to fuck you. Take it or leave it."

I thought about it and carried on conversations with the other three finalists. But there was something missing from them, they just did not get my dick as hard. The intractable nature of GreedySteve was exciting. He knew what he wanted to do to me, and frankly, part of this was my submission to him before we even started.

I messaged him back saying "I'll take it." Within five minutes he sent me a standard agreement form. This was part of the Predator or Prey site; it was a form saying what we had agreed upon. If I signed it and backed out, I could be dropped from the site. The rational part of me said to start with someone more vanilla, to ease my way into it, but I wanted to start big.

I quickly skimmed over the first page of the form, it seemed like the same one we had been sending back and forth for the past week, only this time there was a definite date range filled in. Sometime between tomorrow and a week from today he would break into my home, tie me up, fuck me (lube and condom) and leave. I quickly checked the "accept" box and sent it back. I sent another message with my address and directions on how to get in (I left a key by the basement garage door). It could be as early as tomorrow that I would get a cock up my ass.

I decided not to spank it until I got fucked. I wanted to keep all that energy going and I even stayed naked the entire time I was home. I did some house chores to make my sparsely furnished house look good for my rapist, then sat down and reread the agreement form. My heart sank as I realized he had made a few changes on page two. He removed the "safe word" provision. Once we started, there was no stopping it. I could call it off now, but I would be blackballed from the site for six months. He knew that too. I was tempted, but too turned on at the same time. I saw that he inserted oral as an option. He also put in a Predator option for a second time with the same scenario. This was not what I thought I had signed up for, but no one would care, I agreed to this. Either I went through with this or I gave it up. Well, he was definitely getting more than his share.

I decided it was worth it to carry on. Frankly, I was getting a little more turned on by the predatory nature of my predator and what he was doing to get as much of me as possible.

Sex

My routine started the next day when I got home from work. As soon as I got out of the car in the garage, I stripped and stayed naked until I went to work the next day. Before bed every night I showered to make myself clean and ready, then went to bed hoping it would be the night.

I was sleeping fitfully, awake at every noise. On the third night I was awake, tossing and turning with the same wired intensity that had followed me since I started this. I heard a truck drive by going down the hill to the dead end. I was able to breathe after it went by, another false alarm. Maybe he wouldn't show? I would have to start all over again.

The truck returned from the dead end and parked by the end of my driveway. This could be him. I looked at my alarm clock, 1:20 am. Through the cracked window, I could hear footsteps heading up the driveway. The door to the garage was right beneath my window. I heard him move the flower pot and go to the exact spot where I told him the key would be. The door opened and he was in my house.

My heart raced as I heard him climb up the stairs. This was happening. I tried to pretend like I was asleep. I might have been able to run before, but it was too late now. He was moving quietly now. I did a little posing, rolling onto my side facing away from the door, the sheet carelessly leaving my ass exposed for him.

There was no safe word. Once this started, it would not stop until he was done... and it had just started.

I decided I was going to fight him, just to see how far he'd go.

The doorknob on the door to my room slowly turned. He was right there. The door opened. I readied myself to fight.

Before I knew what had happened, my hands were tied above my head. He had slid across the bed, planted a knee in my back then quickly tied my hands while I was stunned. The battle was over before it even started. This might be a game, but he could do anything he wanted to me.

He ran his calloused and rough hands up and down my bound body, the feel on my soft skin was electric. They were strong too, and quickly rolled me onto my stomach.

"Shh," he said and pushed my head down onto the pillow.

He began rubbing my ass.

"You've got a great body. I'm going to love fucking you."

He squirted something into my asshole and began working it in with a finger. I jumped when he slid his finger in, the first time anyone had done that and I knew this was only the beginning. One hand worked in the lube while the other caressed my butt. He pushed my legs apart and climbed between them. He leaned forward, rubbing the tip of his cock across my cheeks, leaving a wet trail of precum. He stopped and I heard the tearing of a condom wrapper.

The tip of his cock pressed against my (only for a few seconds more) virgin asshole. Even though this was what I wanted, I was still afraid. Afraid that he might do things to me beyond which we had agreed, afraid that it would hurt more than I could take, and even afraid that I might come to like it too much. He pushed, I could feel the pressure as he tried to penetrate me, but my virginity had one last fight left in it. But, fight or no fight, he was not going to be denied.

Suddenly, he was in. I let out a yelp as pain shot through my body. Even lubed, it still hurt like hell. Endorphins soon kicked in and seemed to almost keep pace with the pain. He forced his way deeper and deeper into me in one long push before finally bottoming out.

As I lay there naked, hands tied above my head with the cock of a man whose real name I did not know and whose face I had never seen impaling me, I realized that I had never felt more alive and aware of my own body. I had wanted to be taken like this, to be used like this. I knew my life was forever different after this moment.

"Damn, you are tight," he moaned in my ear.

All I could do was nod my head and try to be quiet. I gave another yip as he started to pull back. I was worried, the walls here were thick, but my window was open. He turned my head so my noise would be muffled by the pillow and pulled all the way out. He gave my ass a slap then rammed his way back inside me. I cried out into the pillow as he quickly bottomed out again.

What had I gotten myself into?

He started fucking me with long, deep strokes and I jerked as he found my pleasure spot for the first time. I had not been expecting that. The endorphins, the pain and the pleasure all mixed together in a physical stew with the knowledge that I was helpless and getting my ass fucked by a complete stranger who could make me do anything he wanted to. It was almost a sensory overload.