Fuck me like a real whore.

...

Wallace felt someone's presence. He didn't want to open his eyes. It seemed that he was at home, it seemed that Ally was entering the room, as if she would now sit next to him, kiss him on the cheek, brush sweaty strands of hair off her forehead, but unfortunately these are just dreams, since when have such simple and familiar things been for Bryton become a dream?
The only thing that is real now is a rough man's hand on the guy's shoulder. He is lightly shaken. This causes Wallace to open one eye as his vision focuses on the older man in front of him. Bryton winced. After that conversation at the table, he became even more afraid of Howard. Why is this psycho waking him up? Ask permission to cut off the other leg? Wallace wanted to be sarcastic, but in reality it was only a lowing.
— Mr Bryton, how are you? - More than anything, Bryton would prefer not to hear this voice and not to see this man.
I had to answer, even if I didn’t want to, but ignoring someone who has superiority over you is not a good idea.
“I…I can feel my arms and…leg,” Wallace sighed. “Actually, my other leg is starting to hurt.
Do you want me to give you drugs?
“No… Um… Please don’t.” Wallace let out an awkward laugh before looking away. “What do you want?”
- I think you need this, it may sound stupid, but I'll ask the question anyway. Are you a transgender? What made you do it? I thought you were the one who takes pride in your body.” This question really sounded stupid from the lips of an older man. Bryton nodded. Oh God, is this bastard interested in his dick?
— I felt discomfort, I hated my body, and yet, what do you need? Bryton repeated his question slowly word for word, which made Howard chuckle.
“To be honest, I would like to fuck you, today at the table you said that you would do everything I say,” a suspicious smirk bloomed on Howe's face. In fact, the man was already very suspicious.
The podcaster's eyes widened in surprise and his lips parted. It took him a few seconds to say something out loud.
- I did, I sucked you off, was that not enough? I will do anything for you, but in return you will let me go. A HUMAN,” Wallace shouted the last word as he dug his fingers into Howard's shirt.
Howe laughed. Wallace didn't understand why. What's so funny he says? Or was the old man just lying to him about freedom?
“I see you really are feeling better, Mr. Bryton,” he took the guy's hands in his and removed them from his clothes. “I told you to be a whore, you know what they do?” It after all not always comes to an end with one blowjob.
"I'll fuck you, I'll lick your ass if you swear to let me out of here as a man." Swear and I'll do it - in the eyes of Wallace read anger and despair. He believed from the very beginning that he would get out of here, but with every minute this faith disappeared and disappeared.
- I can't promise you
- No, you can! Bryton squeezed the man's fingers, digging his nails into his palms. - You just don’t want to ... Tell me, please, tell me why? What have I done to you? Why me?
“You'll find out about that later, Mr. Bryton. I promise you will be the best. Better than all the previous ones. I wanted to invite you to have sex. He might be the last. Are you the kind of person who likes to do these things, especially in a passive role?
passive role? What is he raving about? Or maybe Wallace hears it. Do you think he will be the best? Were there several of these under-walruses? And what happened to them?
- So you agree? Howe touched the boy's shoulder, bringing him back to reality.
“I…” Wallace hesitated. He again weighs the pros and cons. Sex with a maniac. Maybe let go? And if not? I don't care, at least Wallace will get a discharge, even if it's difficult in such an atmosphere. Doesn't the old man have any STDs? Is that why they don't give it to him? Although, when did the guy worry about all these sores?
Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to the head of the podcaster. The escape. What if he can stun Howard? I wonder if older people have a heart attack during orgasm? Wallace is really looking forward to coming up with something along the way. The chance to kill or stun the old man is small, but still there.
- I agree ... Okay, yes, let's, I don't care, just fuck me, - Bryton looked at the man, who reacted completely calmly. No smirks, nothing. Like it's not for him. And anyway, if you want to rape, then why ask? Rave. Complete nonsense.
Howard unbuckled the restraining strap and began to transfer the guy to his wheelchair, taking him by the elbows. Still playing helpless. Bitch.
Wallace gripped him tightly by the shoulders. He still could not even lean on his leg, he lost his balance. He would fall.
Barely sitting down and bending one leg under him, Bryton slowly took off his jacket, throwing it aside. Hands were shaking. Howard helped the guy take off his nightgown. Wallace shivered, either from cold or fear. He felt discomfort from the crouching position. There were no scars on Wallace's body, they were not under the chest, like ordinary transgender people, but there were moles. Lots of. Even when changing clothes, the guy Howard was attracted by one. The most noticeable and bright among the rest located slightly lower than the collarbone. Nearby is another one, on the shoulder the second, on the chest the third. It would be interesting to know how many moles Wallace has in total. Maybe later he will count them, but there will be a risk of not getting a complete set. Although, what's the difference?
Howe pulled a switchblade knife from his pocket, startling Wallace and cutting off his boxers. Bryton looked into his eyes. He looks insensitive. Empty. Killed. Perhaps it is.
Howard felt sorry for the guy. He was not like all those who came to him before. He didn't want to rape him. He wouldn't even touch him sexually without permission. All these persuasions, prayers and so on. It won't help. Wallace will have to become a walrus. Howe believes in him. Believes he can do it. This will be the Mr. Tusk he has dreamed of for a long time. Perhaps he will become attached to this walrus, as well as to his savior. Maybe this walrus will remain alive for a long time, or maybe it will die on the first day. Or will Howard die? They are together? No, the last option will not happen for sure. If he wanted to end his life along with Mr. Tusk, then he would have done it on that fateful day.
Wallace cringed on the other's lap, prompting the older man to take action. He unzipped his fly, pulling his cock out of his pants and carefully placing the guy on it. Brighton was dry, unprepared. He whimpered a little as Howe's cock went inside. It hurt a little, the drugs make themselves felt, but to a much lesser extent. Fingers begin to tremble, and the grip weakens. Howard had to grab Wallace by the waist to keep him from falling off.
Bryton wanted to quickly implement his plan, which was not even completed. He tried to sit all the way up, but it hurt and the guy hissed and Howard patted him on the back. Wallace felt disgusted by this.
After some time, Bryton's vagina began to secrete lubrication, it became embarrassing, very. The podcaster knew it was necessary to avoid injury. The problem is that not many people know about it, Wallace was afraid that the old man might think that Brighton liked it. Although this is exactly what is needed. You need to distract him.
Wallace began to move a little on his cock, grabbing the older man by the shoulders. He moaned, not because it was nice, he wanted to force the elder to take the lead.
"More ... more!" Bryton repeated, clinging to the male body. Howe took the guy by the hips, lifted and lowered on his cock, increasing the pace. Wallace tried to swing his backside so as not to arouse any suspicion. He glanced around the room. I was looking for something to stun a person, but everything is so far away. Impossible to grab. Suddenly, a small interior vase accidentally caught my eye. She was narrow. Empty. Looks like ceramic or porcelain. Dark to understand. But she was close. Almost at arm's length. You can reach, almost, you just need to move the chair a little, unfortunately this is too suspicious, Howard will definitely suspect something.
Wallace moaned, not with all his heart, of course, it was disgusting on the one hand, the oil on the fire added a pleasant feeling in the lower abdomen. Anyway, the body reacted. The voice echoed through the room. The cold made her nipples hard. Bryton pressed his body against the older man, who enjoyed the situation. He grinned, looked at the boy's reddened face, held his palms on his meaty ass. The podcaster put his left hand around the elder's head and leaned in for a kiss to distract him. He put his right hand first on his back, fumbled a little with it, and then reached for the vase. He had to get up off his cock a little and break the kiss to get closer. For the first time, Bryton regrets that he does not have a magnificent chest. I could distract a man with it. Is it possible to strangle a person with boobs? I had to sink to the member completely. Not convenient.
- Kiss me, Mr. Howard, please, - Wallace leaned over the man, he first looked at him and then kissed the guy on the lips, Brighton began to offer his neck. Howe became alert, too suspicious behavior on the part of the podcaster. He got so excited. His eyes seemed to glow. Nevertheless, he started kissing his neck and shoulders. Gently, with light touches of the lips. Wallace relaxed completely, pressed his chest against Howard's body, raised himself on his cock and cautiously extended his hand to the vase, moaning. His hands trembled treacherously, he stretched his fingers to the ceramic vessel, as if to his salvation. This was his salvation.