Date: Thu, 26 Aug 2004 03:06:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: Alistair Bentley <xformguy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Headshop : Chapter 2 : Gloryhole

Story: Headshop
Chapter 2: Gloryhole

By Xformguy

I was a fucking basket case. I had sat on the edge of my bed for quite a
while just trying to figure out how smoking some weed could possibly have
caused me physical changes. It seemed impossible; shit! It was
impossible. Add to that fact that I was still coming down from the effects
of it, with my head still swimming, and it's no wonder I couldn't think
straight. The light from the windows, even through the heavy blinds, was
like knives stabbing my eyes. The noise of the shower was too much also,
causing my head to pound. And in the background, always, was the need for
sex. I had a case of blue balls like I hadn't experienced since High
School.

After my previous evening, I was a little reluctant to jack off. My dick
was still raw from last night's ineffective activity and my nuts were
already throbbing. The last thing I wanted was to make it worse.

I tried calling Nick a couple of times, but he wasn't answering. He had
gotten weed from the same place I had and I wondered if he was having
trouble, too. I still couldn't figure out why I couldn't shoot a load. In
the end, I had no choice but to get on with my so-called relaxing day.

I took a shower and shaved off the goatee, then I got dressed. Given that
my cock kept threatening to harden with nearly every stray sexual thought
that crossed my mind, I wore a jockstrap, pointed it down, and hoped that
would deter any spontaneous wood. I put on jeans, a t-shirt, and my heavy
black work boots. I picked them from the closet without really thinking and
got dressed. By the time I realized I was wearing them--and then wondered
why I wanted steel toe, shit-kickers on--I didn't feel like changing
them. I looked at myself in the mirror.

Something was different. I could see my new, huge nipples through my shirt,
which bothered me a lot, but damn if my chest didn't look thicker, my
shoulder's broader, and my waist tighter. I looked hot! I rubbed my hand
across my torso, but, when my cock started to fill up again, I stopped
abruptly. I could see my package pretty huge, too and getting half-hard in
my jock only made it more noticeable.

My sensitivity to light and noise hadn't abated however, and my head still
felt full of cotton from the weed. I was walking around the house
half-asleep, barely thinking coherent thoughts. I went into the living room
and there was the wooden box with the joints in them. Shit! I'd only smoked
one of them and seeing the box now, I wanted another one. My body almost
cried out for it on a cellular level.

I thought about it really hard as I moved to sit in front of the box. I
could smoke again. I imagined myself doing it. It would take the edge off
this "re-entry." Maybe just a couple of tokes, then I can save the rest of
the joint. But fuck! I was already horny and if this weed was gonna have
the same effect as last night...I didn't want to spent the day jacking off
fruitlessly. My dick would have fallen right off.

I went into the kitchen and made some eggs. They tasted like ash when I ate
them and made my stomach churn. I had some coffee, but that tasted like
acid. I settled on having a beer and THAT was like ambrosia. I sucked that
down almost in one long chug. I got another bottle and placed it against my
temple. Oh shit! That helped my headache tremendously.

So, I donned some dark sunglasses, got my jacket, and pocketed the
joints. I'm not sure why I brought the joints, I mean...I wasn't planning
the go anywhere and smoke them, but I needed them near me. I can't explain
why, but I did.

It took quite an effort to be coherent enough to drive, but I did. Looking
in the rear-view mirror, I noticed the goatee had grown back! Not just a
little stubble...had fully grown back! This was too fucking weird. I just
shook my head and drove to the shop. I needed answers.

When I got there, I moved directly through the upper level and down the
stairs. The proprietor was there, wearing the same shirt from last night; I
wonder if he'd left. He saw me approach and immediately when into the back,
curtained room, waving me in. The same bouncer was there on the same stool.

"What the fuck is this shit?" I demanded, slapping the wooden box onto the
counter.

"It's what you asked for. Didn't you enjoy the product?"

"No. I didn't," I explained, "It's having some side effects."

"Oh?" The proprietor opened the box and...my train of thought simply
derailed. I looked down at the joints themselves, something I hadn't done
at home. There they were, 9 of them, in their yellow paper. The smell of
them, the same musky smell, wafted up to me. It captured my attention and I
just stood there looking at them, mesmerized. The proprietor picked one up
and held it up to me. I could smell it strongly now. FUCK! I wanted one.

My cock started to get hard in my jock. Usually, the discomfort of getting
hard while pointing downward was enough deterrent to getting an erection,
but not this time. My cock continued to harden. I shift uncomfortably.

"You seem to like it," the proprietor said, "It did place you in contact
with your cock, didn't it?"

"Yeah," I said absently, still staring at the joint between his fingers,
still craving it like I hadn't craved anything before--was I addicted?? So
soon?? "But, it...I wasn't able to...it only made me..."

"You weren't able to top off," the proprietor finished. He seemed to
realize what was happening, in fact, he seemed to expect it. He moved the
joint back and forth across my field of vision, and my gaze tracked the
joint. Part of me realized the wrongness of this, but another part was
simply consumed by the sight and smell of the joint.

"No," I whispered, "I wasn't."

"Well, that can be frustrating, can't it?" the proprietor mocked.

I broke my vision from the joint just long enough to look him in the
eye. He was mocking me. He had the upper hand and he knew it. Fuck...what
had I gotten myself into? I felt like such a goddamn fool.

"Do you want to get off now?" the proprietor asked.

"Yes, Please!" I said, feeling like an idiot, "I'm aching here."

He handed me the joint. "Room 3," he said, indicating the gray metal
door. He buzzed something under the counter, and the door unlatched. I went
through the door.

Behind it was a long, close hallway, with a bunch of doors on either side,
each with a number painted on them. It was nearly dark and there was
thumping dance music playing. I'd heard about these placed, but never
gone. Jack-off booths, obviously. I wasn't sure if the second joint would
be better or worse than the first, if I'd be able to shoot or not, but I
didn't care. I had the joint up under my nose and was inhaling it and I was
pretty much under it's spell.

Room 3 was unlatched. I went inside and latched it. There was a wooden
bench and precious little else. I undid my pants, pushed them down to about
knee level and sat down. I tried not to think about that might be on the
walls or on the bench or whatever. My cock was taking over as it was. It
popped out the bottom of my jock pouch immediately and I reached down and
pulled it, stroked it.

I stopped to light the joint and to take a long, deep inhale. The same
musky smoke filled my lungs, my nostrils, my mouth. I held it there and
could and I could feel it entering my blood stream. A wave of sexual
pleasure rippled through me and my cock responded just like it had
before...it got instantly, totally erect. It turned red again and started
drooling pre-cum by the pint. This time, I caught the pre-cum in my hand
and drank it down, handful by handful.

I started to jack off, using the pre-cum as lube. My thoughts went to my
lady, but only briefly, they moved onto the porno from last night, the men,
their cocks. I couldn't help myself from imagining them and me and Nick and
the proprietor in all sorts of combinations. I imagined their bodies from
all angles, their biceps, chests, their cocks and balls, their glutes and
feet. Shit! This weed was making me a fag, I think, but my brain was too
asleep and baked now to really care. The rationale part of me had taken a
back seat to what my cock was demanding, and I just sat there and jacked
off to the images of men.

I heard a noise and looked over at the wall. There was a hole about the
size of a grapefruit in it, obviously, to another one of the
booths. Displayed in the hole was the mouth of a man, open wide, tongue
jutting out in my direction, wide and flat and pink. I sat there, cock in
hand and watched it for a second, my rational mind trying to object at the
concept of me sticking my cock in there, but my sex-addled brain imagining
it. Maybe I couldn't just jack off from this weed...maybe I needed
assistance. And here assistance was, licking its lips, practically begging
me to fuck its face.

I took another deep toke from the joint and held it, let the musky smoke
absorb into my skin, suffuse my body. I could feel it move from my chest
through my torso, down my legs and arms, into my head...like an invader or
something, physically moving through me. I trembled at it...by body started
to ache for release again, my cock bouncing with each heartbeat, my nuts
contracting painfully. I needed to cum. Not cumming was simply not an
option.

I stood up clumsily off the bench, careful to keep the joint on my lips,
and shoved down my jockstrap completely. I moved over to the hole and
shoved my pants and jock to my ankles. I gave my cock some long strokes,
while I considered this.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I couldn't believe I was going to let
another guy blow me off. Had I turned into a fag?? I took the joint off my
lips and held it between my fingers, looked at it. Was it possible that
weed did this to me? Or was it merely unlocking some hidden part of me. I
thought about my lady, and how this was way beyond unfaithful to her. This
was some personal heresy. I owed her better. I owed myself better. But here
was this mouth. My cock was painfully erect with no signs of nearing a
climax. This was almost a medical need.

I took a step toward the hole and the mouth. I laid the head of my cock
gently on the tongue and it immediately wrapped its lips around the head
and started flicking with its tongue. FUCK! I threw my head back and arched
my back. I heard my spine crack as I did it. My legs trembled and my
muscles seemed to contract painfully. Fuck! What was happening?!? I felt
pleasure unlike anything I'd ever experience radiate from my cock head. I
had to have more. Whatever rationale mind I had left, turned off in the
wake of the pleasure.

I threw myself against the wall and thrust my hips forward, sliding my cock
into the mouth completely, shoving myself through the hole so violently I
thought the plywood might collapse. The mouth sucked exquisitely,
passionately, like my cock was its god and it was worshipping. Up and down
the shaft, around the head, back to the base, quickly, slowly, varying
strokes. It wasn't long before I was literally fucking the wall, my hips
banging against it uncontrollably, my kegel muscles clenching and
unclenching on their own, my prostate was fucking hard like a walnut inside
me. I needed to shoot so bad.

While the mouth sucked, I finished the last toke of the joint. I was flying
now. Totally in the moment. The mouth worked me up...moving me to the point
of climax...until I was panting and gulping down air...until I thought I
would fuck my way through the wall with my violent thrusting. I was close
now...very close...when I felt the mouth pull off my cock completely.

"No!" I called, "Don't stop...no!"

I felt the air around my cock, chilling, empty. I pushed deeper into the
hole. I felt hands, fingertips gently touch my shaft, gently wrap around my
cock, gently pull it fully into the hole until my nuts popped through and
my pubes were grinding against the wood. I felt the palm on my nuts
massaging them...god it hurt...my nuts were so sensitive now...but the
pleasure on my shaft distracted me, mixing into a weird pleasure-pain
moment that made me even hornier, if that were possible. The hands pulled
on my cock and balls, pulling them as far from the hole as they could and
then...click!...something metal was locked around the base of my cock and
balls.

FUCK! I tried to pull back, fearing what that metal thing was...and...I
couldn't...shit!! I was stuck in the hole. I pulled and cursed, but my cock
was literally stuck on that side of the wall. I started to freak out a
little bit. I couldn't reach my pelvis, jammed against the wall as it
was...to try to probe around the mechanism. I was literally stuck there,
pulled against the wall.

"Let me go! Asshole!" I called through the wall, my anger, fueled by my
sexual frustration, flaring out of me. I pounded my fists against the wall
and tried to wriggle free, but no...no go...I was stuck.

I heard the latch in my own doorway open and someone came in. He was a big
man, several inches taller than me, buzz cut, mid-40's maybe, shirtless and
RIPPED. Every muscle on his body was in high relief and his
nipples...shit...they were huge like mine were now. He wore camo pants and
military boots and was smoking a joint...ohdammit!

"Let me go!" I ordered him. He sauntered over and stood directly behind me
where I couldn't see him. I kept turning my head, but only caught glimpses
of him. "What is this shit, asshole?"

BAM! He threw his muscular body against mine hard. Knocking my head into
the wood with one hand, pressing it there. "This shit," he said harshly,
"is what you've gotten your punk-faggot ass into, boy."

He ground his hips into my exposed ass. I could feel his hard cock through
the camo pants. Fuck...I'd never had this kind of physical contact with a
man...never even touched another man's erection...and here I was getting
humped. I flushed, ashamed for doing this to myself. He kept my head
against the wood with one hand, while he toked on the joint with
another. Dammit, he was strong. At the same time, I felt slick fingertips
probing around my cock shaft...gliding over it...teasing it to remain erect.

"Please...let me go," I asked him, "I didn't want this."

"But now you've got it, punk," he said, "and it's yours to deal with. Do
you know what's happening?"

"No. Please, I just wanted to get high," I said.

"Well, you're a punk faggot now," he said, "bound to authority figures and
strong-minded, strong-bodied men."

"No...I'm straight, man."

He mocked me and looked down at my hips jutting through the hole; I felt
the fingertips on my cock pick up speed, they concentrated on my cock-head,
sending tremors through my hips. "Straight or not," he said, "you'll never
reach orgasm again unless allowed to by strong man."

"What!?" I said, "That's not possible."

"I paid a lot of money to get you, faggot," he said, "and now you're mine."

"Get me??"

He took a deep toke on his joint and pulled my head by my hair over to his
mouth...he exhaled into my lungs. His smoke was like mine, only stronger, a
tinge of foulness. It moved into my lungs. He quickly clamped his hand over
my mouth and held my nose shut. I tried to struggle, but he got my arm
behind my back and I couldn't move. He pulled my head backward onto his
shoulder and held it there. I could feel his strong body and his
cock. Something clicked in my head. I felt it happen. I was addicted to HIM
now...specifically...the joint...rewrote something in my
brain...chemically...and I was addicted to him.

After an eternity, he released my mouth and I coughed up the smoke. I put
my head against the wood and just shuddered, trying to absorb what as
happening.

I felt his strong hands take off my jacket. I let him without struggle. I
felt his hands under my t-shirt, probing my body with his fingers and I
didn't object. Even when he swiftly ripped the shift off me...I just let him
without objection. He removed my pants and jock too. I lifted each foot
obediently. My head swam. My vision blurred. My cock kept jumping at the
ministrations of whomever was over there. His hand went from my neck down
my back to my ass, circling the glutes, then diving into my crack. He
touched my asshole and I think I started to cry from the shame of it. I let
him.

"So boy," he said, "Who's you're god?"

"You are," I whispered, not believing it was true.

I knew what was coming and I clenched up. He lined his middle finger up
with my asshole and I clenched. He slapped my ass hard. Understanding, I
relaxed and slowly, inexorably, he penetrated me. This was a new experience
I couldn't process. My brain shut down at the sensation, until he touched
my prostate. I about lept off the wall. I couldn't say it felt good or
bad...just intense.

"So boy...you want to cum?"

"God yes!!" I called.

He rapped on the wall and the mouth began sucking my cock again in
earnest. He wriggled his finger, massaging my prostate. I started to
groan...to clench my ass as I fucked the wall, as the mouth moved around my
cock.

He moved into me and whispered into my ear. "I'm going to change your
body," he said, "into something that pleases me more. You're going to obey
my every command. You're going to fuck the boys I want you to fuck and
you're going to worship me in the process.  You understand, punk?"

"Please don't. I have a life. Please."

"You're life is mine now," he said, "Or maybe I should just leave you here
against the wall for the next passerby?"

"Nonono," I said, "please don't!"

I was nearing the edge of orgasm again. The mouth was extremely
gifted. "You want to shoot, punk?"

"Yes!"

"You understand now how I command your cock and balls?" he asked, "You can
only shoot when I allow it."

"Yes, please...it hurts."

"Tell me I'm your god," he said.

I was so fucking close to shooting I could taste it. His finger in my ass
pressed down in circles on my prostate and I felt the juices moving to my
cock. "You're my god," I said, trying to humor him, but knowing it was the
truth.

"Then shoot for your god!" He jammed my prostate and, at his permission, I
unloaded. When I say I unloaded, I don't remember it. All I know is that my
entire body clenched up, my mind shut off from the overload of sheer
pleasure, and my cock started spurting what felt like every molecule of
liquid in my body into the mouth. I shuddered and quaked and screamed and
humped and, in the end, lay against the wall exhausted.

"You'll come back here next week, punk," he told me, "Be in this room at
noon, naked."

Before I could respond, he left. I felt the metal thing holding my cock in
place unclick. I fell to the floor and passed out.