Re-Write
Jason flopped on the couch with a sigh. He rubbed his face with one hand as he pawed for the remote with the other, mind fuzzy. It had been a long day. Not necessarily a bad day. Just long.
His problems all came from one person : Jessica Milton. She had not liked that he had gotten the promotion at the office instead of him, and made that very clear by the way refused to take into account any of his suggestions. Nevermind that he had been working on the Daison project and knew it inside out. Nooo, she had to go and get the unions involved, because cutting their pay was “immoral.”
He had spent the better part of the morning dealing with the workers and their need to be paid above minimum wage, and once he finally gotten rid of them, there was Daison themselves, rightfully outraged that the unions had been contacted at all. If it weren’t for that damned Affirmative Action bullshit, Jason would’ve fired Jessica on the spot.
It didn’t help that Jessica herself was such a bitch. She never cleaned up the conference room after they all used it, and she refused to go out with him. Jason maintained that if he could just get into her pants, he could make her see reason. And if that didn’t work, well, he’d have something to blackmail her with.
He sat in front of the screen for a while, fog in his mind clearing slightly with time. He was starting to feel restless. Normally, he’d go to the gym, pump some iron and clear his mind, but his regular place burned down a couple weeks ago. He was still looking for a new place—all the close ones were fag gyms. He needed a place where real men worked out.
Not that he minded gay people, or their gyms for that matter. He didn’t care what other people did in their spare time, or whatever. It’s just that when he worked out, he needed to be in a place with real men, where real men sweat and worked out. He didn’t want to work in a place where fags hit on each other, and did who-knows-what in the bathrooms.
Though, maybe he didn’t need a work out tonight.
Jason got up, and dressed for a night out. Nice jeans, and a tight fitting shirt. Girls liked to see a well-sculpted body, but he wasn’t wearing this for the ladies tonight. No, ladies would just remind him of Jessica, and how she was trying to fuck him over. He needed an ego boost, and if ladies weren’t gonna do it, he might as well get it from men.
Jason strolled to the local gay bar, nodding at the bouncer as he walked in. The muscle-bound bouncer nodded back.
Jason came sometimes, but he always drank alone. He would allow guys to walk up to him, sit with him a while, showering him with compliments and drinks, then turn them down. He didn’t do this often, maybe once every few months, so he never got a reputation as a gold-digger. He just came here for men to fawn over him, then leave.
This time seemed no different. He strutted over to the bar, confident in his steps, sat down, and waited. As usual, the fags started to come in, buying what he wanted, some of them fighting each other for Jason’s attention. He always walked away from the faggots whenever this happened; he didn’t want to make a scene.
As the night went on, men started to leave him alone. Jason figured it was about time to leave, when he was approached by another man.
He seemed like all the others; tall, imposing, and well-built. Jason was impressed; this was a man who cared for his body.
“Haven’t see you around here before,” said the man. It wasn’t a question.
“Don’t usually come to places like this,” replied Jason.
The man grunted, and hailed the bartender.
“Whiskey, and another one of whatever the boy is having,” he said.
“Boy?” said Jason.
“Ah, my bad,” said the man, “Some guys like that. Guess you don’t. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Jason bristled at being called a boy, but he let it slide. He was in a gay bar, after all.
They began talking, about work and life, and Jason began to feel more comfortable with the man. It was strange; he never felt that he had much in common with the fags who hit on him before. But this man...he really seemed to be like Jason. He was the editor in chief of a gay magazine, but started off as a copy boy. Jason had a similar story in his won company, though he wasn’t the head yet. They both believed that hard work was all it took to get what you want. They both believed that life doesn’t give handouts, and it was foolish to think other people would stop their own lives just to help you. It was a bit of a surprise to Jason that a fag would say something like that—but he supposed that not all fags were like the ones in his office, always complaining about how straight people had it so easy.
Jason and the man talked for a while, longer than Jason realised. He found it easy to talk to the man, they just shared so many opinions; on sports teams (Go Ravens!), politics (liberals are right, but they’re to whiny, and some conservative ideals aren’t that bad), movies (Deadpool was great, Brokeback Mountain’s overrated—that last one impressed Jason), and so on. Eventually, the man had to go to the bathroom, and Jason checked the time.
Holy Fuck! Jason thought, It’s past 3 am!
Jason scrambled as the man came back.
“Hey, good meeting you man,” said Jason, slapping him on the shoulder, “I’ve gotta go, work in the morning.”
The man nodded.
“Hold out your hand,” he said.
Jason paused. He had forgotten that this was a gay bar, and that the man was probably gay. He really didn’t act gay, so Jason forgot about it. He shrugged. What the hell. It wasn’t like he was gonna call, or even see him again.
Jason held out his hand, and let the man write on him. The pen was strange, old-fashioned and seemed to be made of gold.
“Nice pen,” said Jason.
The man grunted. He really didn’t act gay.
The man finished writing, and suddenly, Jason felt a little dizzy. He stumbled, grabbing onto the man, steadying himself.
“Whoa,” said the man, “You all right?”
“Yeah, yeah...just a little lightheaded for a bit,” said Jason.
“Why don’t you sit down for a bit?” suggested the man.
“I—” started Jason, then stopped. He really should be going, he had work in the morning. But...he couldn’t really think of any reason why he had to go now, at htis very moment.
“Okay,” said Jason, and sat on his stool again.
The man grinned, and ordered another beer, in a bottle, this time. Jason smiled back, then looked down at his hand. He blinked, and realised that the man hadn’t written a number. It was a word, in red.
OBEDIENT.
Jason frowned, and looked up at the man, who was looking at him like a predator his prey. A sense of dread crept into Jason’s legs.
“What is this?” demanded Jason. The man didn’t answer, waiting for the beers.
“Shut up, and sit there,” he ordered Jason.
Jason felt a flare of rage in him. He opened his mouth to speak. How dare this faggot-
Jason tried to make a noise, opening his mouth again. He frowned. He couldn’t- no. He could still speak. His body just...didn’t want to.
Panicking, he tried to move from his seat. With widening eyes, he found he couldn’t move. Well, he could still move his arms and his legs, he just couldn’t make his body leave the chair.
The man chuckled as his beer came.
“This is always the best part,” he said, grinning, “Get up, and follow me.”
Jason silently followed the man into the bathroom, struggling to control his own body as he did. He screamed inside his own mind, trapped by a body that had, for some reason, betrayed him. He followed the man into a stall.
“Kneel,” the man ordered, as he sat on the seat and pulled his pants down, revealing a semi. It was already bigger than any dick Jason had ever seen.
“Suck my cock,” the man said.
Jason refused. He wasn’t a fag. Yet, for some reason, his body did as ordered, opening his mouth and sucking on the circumsised head like a lollipop. The man laughed.
“Wow, you are such a straight boy,” the man said, taking out the pen again. He leaned forward, and on Jason’s arm, wrote in black:
COCKSUCKER.
Cocksucker...cocksucker...the word bounced around Jason’s head, echoing, filling the space...and Jason came back into focus. He licked around the cock head with his tongue, lubing it up, as he took the whole head in his mouth, sucking it. The man groaned. Jason started sucking furiously, taking the growing cock deeper and deeper with each suck. He was confused. He was a cocksucker, yes, he knew this, but...he wasn’t a fag. Why did he know how to suck cock so good?
“Confused?” said the man, “I can see it in your eyes.”
The man was grinning, down at Jason, his cock filling Jason’s mouth. Jason started to gag.
“Can’t have that, now can we?” said the man, forcing Jason down on his cock, and leaning over again, wrote in red on his neck:
NO GAG REFLEX.
Jason’s eyes stopped watering, and the sensation of meat sliding into his throat wasn’t burning anymore. He breathed through his nose, sucking the cock deep in the back of the throat. The man groaned.
“That’s the shit,” he said.
The man used Jason’s mouth for a while, pumping it until he was nice and hard, the grabbing Jason’s head and slamming down to the base harder and faster until he shot his load down his throat. By the end of it, Jason’s eyes were watering, his mouth stretched out and throat hot and sticky.
“Swallow it all,” said the man absentmindedly, panting. Jason complied.
“Sit on my, lap boy,” the man commanded, “and take off your shirt.”
Jason stood up, knees worn by the floor, and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his six pack and wide chest. The man licked his lips as Jason sat, the man’s still-hard cock pressed against his back.
“Go on,” said the man, “Ask me what you want to know, quietly.”
“How?” panted Jason, “How—”
“Did I make you do that?” the man chuckled, “Boy, you really are stupid.”
The man took out the pen. It had three colour option, Jason noticed, Red, Black, and Blue.
“Each colour controls a different part of you,” the man explained, “Red controls your body.”
He selected red, and wrote on Jason’s chest:
HORNY.
Jason moaned. He unzipped his pants, revealing a bulge under navy blue boxer briefs.
“Don’t touch yourself,” the man ordered.
His cock...he needed to play with his cock. Deep within it, he could feel his cum building, his cock stiffened slightly, but was still mostly soft.
“Black controls your mind,”
He selected black, and crossed out the COCKSUCKER on Jason’s arm. Suddenly, Jason’s mind came flooding back—he didn’t suck cock! He was straight, damnit, not some fag!
Jason’s breathing started to come rapidly. He realised that he was in deep shit now. This man had complete control over him, whether he liked it or not.
“Please,” Jason whispered, “Please, let me go...”
“Let you go? Why would I do that?” the man chuckled, “Don’t worry. Soon, you’ll want to be re-written”
Jason whimpered.
“Besides, I haven’t shown you what blue does yet,” growled the man, “It’s effect depends on where I write on you.”
With that, he selected blue, and on Jason’s forehead, wrote:
SLUT.
Slut...Jason...Slut...the word bounced around Jason’s head, erasing parts of him. He could feels bits of him starting to forget something, something he used to be. Something he always was, something everyone called him. He tried hard to remember. Jason. His name was Jason. He worked at a company. His name was...Jason. Yes, Jason, he had to remember, his name was...Jay? Something like that. It was something easy to remember. Everyone called his this. He was...Ja...slut. Slut. Was that his name? No, it couldn’t be. He tried herd to remember. His co-workers called him...Slut.
“Remember your name, Slut?” said the man. Ja...Slut shivered. He was so horny...his name was easy to remember. Everyone called him that. He was so horny. Slut? Sluts were horny.
“Tell me your name,” ordered the man.
“My name...M-My...name...” stammered the boy. He tried hard to remember.
“Say it!”
“My...My name...is...Slut,” he said, cock hardening slightly. That wasn’t right. His name was...but it felt so good...Slut moaned.
“My name...is...Slut,” he repeated, nipples stiffening. His name. That wasn’t...he was...
The man slipped his hand in Slut’s boxer briefs, grabbed Slut’s cock, and started to pump it, softly.
He wasn’t gay! Slut knew that much. He struggled, and the man just laughed.
“Such a strong slut,” whispered the man in Slut’s ear, making him moan again, “I’m gonna enjoy breaking you.”
The man took out the pen, and wrote on Slut’s chest:
GAY.
Slut’s cock hardened further under the man’s grip, as he let out an involuntary moan. The man pushed down Slut’s underwear to his knees as the word bounced around in Slut’s head. What colour was it in? Was his body gay or his mind? Slut couldn’t tell; all he felt was pleasure from the man’s hands.
The man moved his hand from Slut’s cock to his nipples, pinching them, pulling then softly. He kissed Slut’s neck, licking, moving up to his earlobe.
“N-n-not...” stammered Slut, “...not...h-here...”
“Oh?” the man growled in his ear, “But aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“N-not...” managed Slut, frowning, “N-n-not...a...s-sluh...slu—”
“My, my,” said the man, “You are stubborn. Should’ve expected that of a straight guy.”
And with the pen, he wrote in black on Slut’s thigh:
BOTTOM BITCH.
Sluts’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, words ringing in his ears, then refocused. He let out a slutty moan, pushing his ass back against the man’s thick, hard cock.
“Fuck,” slut groaned. His ass was feeling empty, “Got any lube?”
The man was way ahead of Slut. On each ass cheek, the man wrote a single word in blue:
SELF LUBRICATING.
Slut moaned, and the man went back to playing with Slut’s nipples. Slut felt his ass getting wet, lubing itself. He relaxed his ass muscles, pressing up against the man’s thick cock. His own cock was hard, harder than it had ever been when he was straight.
“Come on, Slut,” said the man, “Show me a good time.”
Slut smiled over his shoulder.
“Whatever you say.”
Slut pushed himself up with his legs, then guided the thick cock under him towards his hole. He teased the cock against himself, moaning. It felt good...just the feel of cock against his hole made his steel hard dick twitch. Suddenly he felt nervous. He had never had something this big inside him before. What if-
The man pulled Slut onto his cock slamming his dick in the tight hole all the way at once.
“AAAH!” Slut moaned, and the man immediately clamped his hand over Slut’s mouth. His yes were watering, the sudden pain and...
The man moved slowly inside Slut, small thrusts, rubbing against his prostate. Slut started to pant in rhythm to the thrusts, each one making his ass lube faster, his dick twitch more. The man started to move faster, thrusts getting bigger. He grabbed slut’s thigh and started to pull him up and down his cock, rubbing inside Slut more and more.
Slut began to clench his ass over the cock as it slid further in, then back, in, then back. His ass felt so good, and his dick was now twitching every time the man slid in more. Slut moaned, unable to stop himself, his eyes unfocusing as the man took his hand away from Slut’s mouth. The man slapped Slut’s ass.
“I’m! Gonna! Cum!” moaned Slut.
“No you don’t,” growled the man, and, in black, wrote on Slut’s back:
CAN’T CUM UNLESS TOLD TO.
Slut whimpered, his dick bursting with cum, on the edge, but unable to release. The man grabbed Slut by the hips, and started fucking Slut in earnest, pulling him up and down on his cock, at the same time thrusting his dick up and out of Slut’s tight hole, faster and faster. Every once in a while, he slapped his slut, hard enough to leave a handprint on that bubble butt. Slut moaned constantly through this, his voice only stopping when he bounced against the man’s flesh.
The man wrapped his arms behind Slut’s knees, and pulled Slut’s legs up for better access. Slut was moaning like a pig in heat, unable to cum. He whispered in Slut’s ears as he fucked his new slave harder.
“You like that? You like my cock up your ass, straight boy?”
“Yes! I! Love! Your! Cock!” Slut moaned.
“Call me sir, Slut.”
“Yes! Sir!”
“I’m the best cock you’ve ever had?”
“You’re! The! Best! Sir!”
“You were never like this when you were straight, where you?”
“No! Sir!”
“You never felt this good when you were straight, did you Slut?”
“No! Sir!”
“Are you grateful I made you a gay slut?”
“Yes! Sir! Thank! You! Sir!”
“What do you want?”
“To cum! Sir!”
“You want to cum?”
“Yes! Please! Sir!” Slut could barely make out words now, his dick red with blood, mind on the edge of ultimate pleasure.
“What’s your name?”
“Slut!”
“Say it!”
“My! Name! Is! Slut!”
“Louder.”
“My! Name! Is! Slut!”
“Louder!”
“MY! NAME! IS! SLUT!”
“Beg!”
“FUCK! ME! LIKE! THE! SLUT! I! AM! SIR!” Slut’s voice was ragged now, “CUM! IN! SIDE! ME! AND! LET! ME! CUM! SIR!”
The man couldn’t take it anymore. With one last thrust, and slap on the ass, the yelled:
“Cum! Slut!”
“UUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Slut came, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and spine stiffening. His legs locked, and sprayed cum all over his chest, chin, and face. He felt his ass fill as Sir’s dick exploded inside him, filling him with white, hot, sticky cum. They were both sweating.
The man chuckled, and slapped Slut’s ass. He pulled him back, and whispered in his ear:
“That was some show, Slut.”
Slut shivered, his soft dick once again started to harden. His name had that effect on him.
“Sit still for a bit.”
Slut’s body obeyed, his mind still overwhelmed by the intense orgasm. The man pulled out the pen.
Jason never returned to work. As such, Jessica had to take over with the Daison case. She later moved on to become CEO of the company.
Slut, of course, did not care about any of this. His life had only one purpose now.
The man looked over at the Slut, the man who used to be Jason Marsden. His skin was filled with words in all colours, crossed out and re-written. It always came to this. The human mind can only take so much writing and re-writing.
“Yeah, sorry about this,” said the man to his friend. Th friend shook his head.
“If you really were, you wouldn’t keep breaking them like this,” he said.
“And if you were really mad at me, you wouldn’t be taking them off my hands so easily,” countered the man. His friend smiled, and looked back at Slut.
Slut was bouncing. It was all he did now, all he thought about. He bounced, bounced, bounced on the dildo, gazing dumbly ahead, unaware of what was going on around him.
The friend whistled.
“He is a pretty one,” he said,
“Yeah, that’s why I had to pick him,” said the man. His friend shrugged.
“We all have our vices,” he said, unbuckling his belt. The man shook his head, and turned around.
“Take as long as you want,” he said, “I’ll be out late.”
He heard his friend start talking to the boy.
“What’s your name, cutie?”
“M...nam...slut...” Slut replied slowly.
The man left. He needed a new boy to play with.