Free Smut- the reprint edition.

This story first appeared at Velvet Mafia in 2003. It’s not the most perfect thing but I remain proud of it. This was my first published gay male erotica. I got fan mail and felt like the fanciest homo on the planet.

Warnings, this is rough trade. Edge play type situation. If violence and sex freaks you out do not read this.

That is your only warning so don’t complain if you’re offended. I warned you.

That said, I give you “Knives and Dark Alleys” reprinted from Issue 7 of Velvet Mafia circa 2003.

The knife bites into his flesh just deep enough to command his entire attention. The blade stroking the stubble on his neck as a voice almost croons into his ear. Too calm, the tone so easy.

“Yeah boy. Ain’t thought you’d see me didja?”

Backwater redneck accent, thick as molasses. Thick as the fingers reaching for his quickly swelling cock. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, the muscles there too tight to let out the retort on the tip of his tongue. The man with the knife could kill him. This part of the city is always deserted at night. The alley black as pitch and redolent of piss and other unidentifiable smells. This could turn out bad, the worst.

“Mmhmm, that’s right you stay nice and still. Daddy’s goin ta make you feel real good son. You like that doncha?”

The nod he gives seems to be someone else. This isn’t him. He’d never willingly submit to something like this. But be that as it may, he finds himself moving his hard round ass against the man with the knife. The whisper from his lips not his voice.

“Yes sir.”

A grunt of approval as a hand closes roughly around his cock. Fingers digging into his balls deep enough to hurt. The knife describing a slow circle against his cheek.

“Listen here faggot. I’m gonna take me a step back. Don’t you go turnin around. Get em all down.”

The hand leaves his aching crotch, a wetspot spreads on his jeans as he nods. Slowly and carefully unbuttoning his Levi’s. Easing them down to the top of his boots. The murmur of pleasure from behind him emboldening him to put his hands hip up on the wall, feet spread as far as possible. Back arching to stick his round sparsely furred bare ass at his attacker.

The sound of a belt being undone, zipper being pulled down, condom wrapper. He shudders, wanting so badly to look back at the man with the knife. His head turns ever so slowly. A millimeter at a time only to be met with a hard smack against his bare ass and the body of the other man falling into him like a brick wall.

“Don’t you look at me boy. I tole you not to do that.”

The knife point provides a counterpoint to the harshly spoken words. The tip pressing against his cheek. His body starting to tremble uncontrollably as the fear creeps in. The dry squeak that he emits is less than nothing. As the knife presses his throat again tears slide down his cheeks.

“Please Sir I’m sorry. I’m sorry Sir. I—”

 

His words end in a long startled groan. Pain searing its way from his asshole all the way up his spine as a cock rudely shoves it’s way in. Muscles knotting in his back he clenches his teeth hard. Trying to be a good boy and give up his nearly virgin hole to the Alpha male in the situation.

Each thrust shoves him up onto his toes. The pain giving way gradually to pleasure. The knife stays at his throat as he’s fucked into submission. Tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes. Pathetic whimpers coming from his throat each time that thick cock slams into him.

“What’s wrong little Nancy boy can’t take a fuck? Daddy’s cock too big for the little faggot?”

Grunts, the thudding of flesh on flesh. Time and place gone. Who he thought he was gone. Fucked into oblivion by a knife wielding redneck.

His scattered thoughts are interrupted by the sudden absence of cock. The feeling of emptiness spreads through him quickly enough to elicit a tiny moan of displeasure. Feet swept out from under him he lands hard skinning his naked hip, the thin t shirt he wears ripping with an almost wet sound. He doesn’t lift his eyes but focuses on the boot in front of his face.

Come lands on his chest hot and wet as the tears on his cheeks. His chin quivers. He had wanted that load in his ass. So badly he almost protested, the words cut off by a boot connecting with his exposed belly. His mind as well as his ass had been penetrated and read.

“You don’t fuckin deserve it boy.’

Zipper being pulled up, belt buckling with a jingling sound as he lies there curled up. The sobs shaking his shoulders. His face burning in shame. Boot heels striking cement. Walking away from him. Next time he’d earn Daddy’s come up his ass. Next time he would bleed. Of that he was certain.

 

©2003 Shannon Barber


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