THE HIGH TABLE

THE TRUCKER AND THE FRY SHOP

Etienne Moreau

It has now been nearly 24 hours since I have been driving. Since I dropped off this cargo in Spain, I think I haven’t stopped. It would be better if I don’t have a cop test otherwise I will get in trouble. I ate while driving, I am exploded of fatigue. But it’s my job. This truck is my house. Being on the road is my life. Of course, I don’t have a married life. Who would be crazy enough to spend his life with a guy who is never at home. But that doesn’t stop me from having fun. If the guys who give me loads to deliver knew what I could have done in this truck, whether it was in the cabin or elsewhere. I think there isn’t a place where I don’t need.

Even on the roof of the trailer... That’s also what I like in this life as a truck driver... This mix of adventure, violence and roughness that makes life attractive. I love being on a rest area... Generally, when I go out, all the other truckers stare at me... I am quite handsome even though I am older than most of my colleagues. But my muscles, my stature generally do have their effect, as well as the swollen bulge that my tight jeans make visible. Some try to play the alphas...

Generally, they end up in their place... that of good submissive who is reduced to moans of pleasure... Damn, just thinking about it and I feel my dick getting hard. I am not far from Rotterdam, my destination. In Belgium... the country dish they say! Our stupid neighbors, they also say. I’m hungry, I feel like pissing and I think I’d really empty my balls. I haven’t had sex since a Bulgarian trucker that I fucked before unloading my cargo in Spain. I park and damn... No luck... I am the only truck... No other trucker here... I will have to masturbate... I leave my cabin and I see the place....

The worst place in the world... the one that is stoned, no public toilets but a pitiable chip shop that is in front of me.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I've been working in a chip shop for years, I've seen all sorts of people come and go, but the problem is I hate foreigners. I had to take this shitty job, forced to watch idiots all day trying to speak to me in English or their horrible native tongue. The advantage is that my build and stern face mean people don't mess with me, and anyone who dares to will quickly regret it.

But my bad reputation precedes me; people are becoming increasingly rare, and even if I don't like them, I still need their money, and not just their money. I've already slept with some truckers who thought they could provoke me, but it's been almost a month since I've seen anyone. My balls are swollen and I need to get off; I'm sick of jerking off. I go outside mechanically and think I'll take advantage of the quiet to masturbate, but I see a truck arrive.

I think to myself, "Another one of those fat, ugly truckers who's going to eat like a pig," but instead, a muscular man gets out. He's not the youngest I've seen, but he's undoubtedly the most handsome, and yet I've worked here for over 20 years. He has an impressive build, his dirty side excites me, and in the distance, I think I see that he has a nice bulge in his pants.

Immediately, my underwear starts to tighten, showing a bulge under my apron. I take a big gulp of my beer, not wanting to show how much this guy is turning me on.

Etienne Moreau

The place is completely empty. I really feel like I arrived after a disaster. Some wooden tables are in front of the 'boui-boui' which serves restaurants. The bins have not been emptied for ages. If there were no light, I would tell myself that it is an abandoned place. It must be squatted by some homeless people. But quite quickly, a guy comes out.

I can’t help but stare at him and measure him. Nice piece, I tell myself. Around my age, heavier and well-muscled, much taller and manly. Exactly, the kind of guy I love to submit... My dick is starting to throb... Don’t rush Etienne... Eat first, pee and then see how you can make this guy moan. I approach you... You smell like a fry, you smell like fat and your yellow apron is covered in stains....

I can’t be sure that it’s only fat. I look at you as if I were judging you... “Do you work here or are you the local hobo? I will need to piss but honestly it’s so dirty here that I’m not sure to differentiate between the trash, the toilets and the restaurant room" And without waiting for your response I move towards the front door, already starting to take out my dick as if I were ready to pee anywhere.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I see you approaching. You're shorter but just as muscular as me, and that smell of sweat, grease, and those stains I can't identify excites me even more, but I have to calm down. I need to make this sale. I wait for you to approach me, and I can tell from your voice that you're French, and I love dominating French men. They moan so well under my cock.

I shake my head, trying to collect myself and not imagine you on the table outside getting fucked, putting my beer in front of my cock to try and hide the growing bulge. Your judgmental look and insulting words irritate me, and strangely, they also excite me. I open my mouth to reply, but I see you walking away, heading towards my chip shop, pulling out your dick.

I immediately think to myself, "Wow, what a monster." But I quickly regain my composure, and as you head towards the entrance, I stand facing you, trying not to show my excitement at your erect penis, and I say, "Hey, calm down, you lowlife. First of all, I'm the owner, not some bum." I put a hand on your shoulder to stop you from going any further, saying, "You want a toilet? There is one. Look." Then I grab your shoulders and turn you around, pointing at your truck. "You see that horrible, stinking pile of mud in the parking lot? You can go piss there. I reckon the driver must be a real piss tank; he won't mind a little more."

You can hear from my voice that I am both provocative and insulting, but my hands on your shoulders while I show you your truck make you feel that I am nervous and quite excited by you, feeling your magnificent muscles under my fingers, holding myself back from kissing it and making it moan, despite its immense beauty and its smell of a male in heat.

Etienne Moreau

I don’t even look at you when I pass in front of you. But when you open your big mouth, I stop dead. You just said that my truck was a garbage can. You can’t even imagine the care I take of it. This truck is not only my house, but also my life, my family. I start to clench my fists and it’s no longer you that I want to fuck but very clearly to smash your face until your mother doesn’t recognize you anymore. Your voice, however, attracts me.

It is husky and it resonates in my mind like the voice of a real male, sure of himself and a bit arrogant. Everything I like to destroy. Everything I like to humiliate. You put your hand on my shoulder while talking to me. I feel your firm skin; I feel your brute strength that without hurting me holds me. I don’t react but your warm breath on my bare shoulders makes my dick grow before our eyes.

Damn, it’s been a long time since a guy had such an effect on me. I feel my skin shiver when your powerful hands land on it. I don’t move. But I have to show you that I’m not the kind of guy you think you are. Without turning around, I bend my elbow and try to send it violently back hoping to make you bend in half and succeed in letting go of me.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I see you stop dead in your tracks when I insult your truck, and I can tell I’ve hit a sensitive spot. Even though your truck is the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen, I can’t tell you that. I don’t know why, but I need to provoke you, to insult you. Your strong scent and your voice—the voice of a guy who’s already seen the world, with that very Parisian accent that makes me rock hard—give me the urge to challenge you without daring to say it out loud.

I feel you shiver and I wonder if it’s from the cold or my insults. I don’t think about it too much because I’m completely focused on that magnificently muscled shoulder. I’m so fixated on it that I don’t see your elbow strike coming. I take the hit, but instead of letting go I clench my fingers on your shoulder while letting out a little growl of pain and say to you, 'What the fuck were you trying to do, garbage truck driver?'

And with my free hand I slam a violent forearm strike into your other shoulder to make it very clear that I’m not easy prey—even though deep down something tells me you must be a sublime predator.

Etienne Moreau

Without looking at you, I feel your cops marking the occasion. Without looking at you, I feel the air coming out a little from your chest and crashing onto my shoulder. But contrary to what I thought, you are not letting go of me. You start on the contrary to tighten my shoulder tightly and I feel that you are about to touch the nerve.

A huge pain irradiates my right side. At this moment, your forearm hits my free shoulder with force. I can’t do anything except being projected a little forward. You hold me under your grip. I try to turn around to face you. I remain frozen for a few seconds; my eyes fixed on you.

The cold bites my fingers, but that’s not what makes my hands shake. It’s this dull pulsation under my skin, this mixture of adrenaline and anger. Slowly, I try to clear my shoulder from your grip. Our eyes meet; the air seems to vibrate between us.

My voice comes out low, almost calm: «Do you want to play harder? Very well. But first learn to respect what you challenge.» I take a step towards you, not to knock, but to remind you without a word that I never back down. The silence that follows says more than any insult.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

My grip on your shoulder and my blow didn't hurt you as much as I thought. I've already subdued more than one with just that, but you're in a different league. To break you, and maybe even fuck you, I'll have to give it my all. When you face me, I see your eyes filled with anger and something else, perhaps desire?

Does he desire me the way I desire him? Every muscle is tense, and the sight is magnificent, even though your sleeveless t-shirt prevents me from seeing the rest. Your gaze is so intense I'm drowning in it, and your words, spoken in a firm, harsh voice, make my heart throb with the desire to slaughter you. The adrenaline already coursing through me from your elbow has flooded every cell of my being, making me breathe like a wild animal, my body trembling with nervousness and desire.

I see you take a step toward me; it's a provocation, both clear and silent, and I find it so beautiful. No profanity, no insults, no blows, just a single step forward with a determined air and a look that makes me dream. Despite wanting to destroy you, I can't help but respect this frank and combative side of you, so I take a step forward too, staring at you intently to show you that I, too, never back down, no matter how handsome, powerful, and exciting my opponent may be.

Etienne Moreau

For a few moments, we say nothing. We are face to face. The silence that reigns marks both the tension and the sexual desire that is visible between us. I am observing you. I look at each one of your muscles and this magnificent spectacle excites me to the highest degree. I see your nipples pointing behind your apron.

They are tough, and I am sure they are just waiting to be worked on. I see you breathing and each of your inspirations seems to show that you are a dominator. For a few moments, I am torn between the desire to fuck you immediately, that of making you moan by eating your pecs or that of smashing you in two. I don’t say anything because I’m hesitating. Then what you said about my truck comes back to mind.

My breath quickens as I approach you. I try to wrap my arms around your muscular chest to lift you trying to block your own arms. For a few seconds, you are against me and I already feel my dick running so much it excites me. But you insulted me and there is nothing worse in my eyes. I try to smash your lower back by coming to hit your column against the edges of the wooden tables that are in front of your shop.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I gaze at you for a long time, your neck is magnificent, so wide. My biceps would love to strangle that kind of bull neck, and my only desire is to rip off your sleeveless t-shirt to reveal that broad chest and gently caress your nipples, which I see hardening under the fabric. Then you grab me by the waist, and I hold my arms to stop you from crushing me, feeling your erection under those dirty denim shorts and letting you feel mine through my apron.

For those few seconds, I don't know whether to open my arms, so you'll let go or kiss you. Your warm breath on my neck makes me dream, but I don't have time to think before you violently slam my lower back against the edge of my table. I cry out in pain, sensing from your strength that you're not holding back. It hurts, but a huge, sadistic smile spreads across my face, and I jerk my head back before giving you a violent A headbutt right in the nose to force you to let go of me.

Etienne Moreau

I feel your body arching when your column hits the wooden table edge. I hear your cries of pain, and I tell myself that you were probably not as strong as I thought. I already imagine myself fucking you on this table as you deserve. But while I feel my dick flowing so much it gives me pleasure, your face deliberately hits my head. I scream and have to let go. For a few seconds, I can’t see anything anymore.

I’m just able to feel the excruciating pain. Fucking son of a bitch! You broke my nose. The blood is starting to show on my face, and I know that I am totally at your mercy. I try to back down but the shock was too severe, the pain is too great for me to be quick. God knows however how much I want to kill you right now.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

When I break your nose, I feel blood spurt onto my face, and I love it. I see you release me and grab your bleeding nose, your face contorted with pain, which only adds to your beauty. But I can't take it anymore, I want more, I need more. I grab your blood-stained sleeveless shirt with one hand and pull you forward, putting your stomach on the table, letting your legs dangle off.

I position myself behind you, pressing my hard cock against your ass, making you feel my desire despite your shorts and the apron separating us. Then I put one hand on your shoulders and with the other, I start punching your lower back.

Etienne Moreau

You are faster than me, probably less damaged. I don’t quite understand what’s happening, but I feel like you’re pinning me against the table. I feel your dick against my ass. I feel my hole palpitate and I am seized with shivers when I realize the thickness of your dick, despite the apron and our pants. I bite my cheeks to not let a moan escape, refusing to show you that I take pleasure in having myself opened up.

You jam my shoulders with one of your hands while the other is butchering my spine. I scream; I suffer like a dog. Your hand prevents me from moving my arms and legs while in the void. Maybe this is my chance. I try to make them take momentum hoping to send them strong enough and high enough on your thighs to hope to touch your balls.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I get so much pleasure from seeing you like this that I forget all caution. I feel like I can sense your desire to be dominated, or maybe I just want you. I can't decide. Everything about your body, your scent, and your voice excites me. I want to destroy you and fuck you at the same time, and your cries of pain, lost in the stillness of the night, excite me even more, knowing that no one can see us and that I can give in to my basest instincts.

Alas, I'm so aroused by you that I don't see the blow coming. You bend your right leg, which crushes my balls, lifting me an inch or two off the ground. I wasn't expecting that at all, and I fall onto your back, my mouth wide open, trying to catch my breath while my hands hold my balls.

Etienne Moreau

I hear the scream and suddenly I feel that I can breathe. I see you collapsing on the ground. The more I know you, the more I want to see you suffer. You are incredibly sexy when you suffer. I catch my breath and I don’t want to give you a second of respite.

I approach you, your body that is on the ground. I put one foot on your throat to prevent you from breathing and with the other foot, with my big leather shoes, I start to crush your balls hoping to make sure that you can never produce sperm again for your whole life. I feel you suffering. I think you will try to revolt; to resist but I want to show you that it serves no purpose.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

That blow hurt horribly, yet it aroused me. I remained on the ground as I watched you arrive like a speeding truck, placing your leather shoe against my throat, cutting off my breath, and the other shoe on my balls. I wanted to scream, but only a small moan escaped the little air I could still get with your weight on top of me.

You are strong and powerful, but you lack foresight. Seeing that you are completely on top of me, I raised my hand to grab your balls through your denim shorts and crush them while trying to turn my whole body towards you to make you fall onto your back, never letting go of your testicles, which I crushed without the slightest mercy.

Etienne Moreau

I see you suffering and I think it’s one of the things that makes me enjoy the most. I hear your little rasping roquet cries coming out of your mouth. You are mine. At that moment, you grab my balls and start to twist them. I feel like my balls are sticking up in my stomach and I’m two inches from puking so much I’m in pain. I try before collapsing to give a violent kick, almost as strong as the rage and pain that invade me, in your throat hoping that this blow allows me to move away from you.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I hear you scream in pain, and you collapse just as I intended, but I hadn't anticipated your resilience. The adrenaline and anger coursing through your body give you unparalleled strength, and I catch the heel of your shoe, which smashes my nose and sends me rolling to the base of the lamppost.

Blood spurts onto your shoe and the ground until I feel my back hit the edge of the lamppost's square concrete base. I clutch my nose, which is bleeding profusely. The pain is excruciating, and my vision blurs. I look toward you, but the lights seem to blind me, and I only see a shadow on the ground... or is it a trash can that fell during the fall? If so, where is it? I can barely see.

Etienne Moreau

The pain is tearing me apart like never before. I feel that you will end up snatching my manhood if I don’t take the initiative again. I am on the ground, and it takes me quite some time to straighten up again, completely overcome by the pain. I see you, your face bleeding, seeming lost.

I tell myself that maybe it’s the moment to seize my chance. Tears are still in the corner of my eyes. But I have to concentrate. I try to approach you in order to send you a knee strike in the abs hoping to make you collapse on the ground and finally be able to take care of you as I hear.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I'm trying to collect my thoughts, my back against the pole, feeling the edge against my spine, breathing as best I can when I feel like I'm hallucinating. I see a huge bull emerge from the shadows of the ground and start charging at me. I know pain can make you see strange things, and it's not the first time, but I don't have time to dwell on it; I have to act fast.

As you get closer, I see it's you, my handsome trucker, your body muscles taut with excitement and pain. You're handsome, but if you hit me, I know I won't survive. As soon as I realize who's in front of me, I roll onto my right side, hoping your knee will shatter on the concrete base of the lamppost. Maybe I was going a little too fast, but mostly I acted on instinct.

Etienne Moreau

I rush towards you without thinking, so happy to be able to show you what the true strength of a French person is. You need to understand how much I will crush you. But at the last moment, you escape. I see you leaving but I don’t have time to stop.

My knee bursts against the streetlight. A huge cry passes through the solitude of the bond as I collapse to the ground holding my knee. I don’t know if it’s broken and I’m in too much pain to look at the state it’s in. But it’s burning. I have the impression that I will not be able to get back up from my whole life because I am in pain.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I roll and watch you, not knowing if you'll be able to stop in time, and you can't. Your cry fills me with pleasure, and I see you lying on the ground, both our bodies sweating from the exertion. I can still barely see clearly, but it's coming back a little.

The pain makes your muscles tense even more, and I'm going crazy. I rush at you and place a hand on your throat, forcing you to lie down despite your knee pain, and with the other hand I tear off that damned piece of fabric that prevents me from seeing your perfect torso, growling like an animal in heat, wanting to show you the savagery of a Belgian.

Etienne Moreau

I am nothing more than a cry of pain and you take advantage of it. You force me to lie down, and you place your hand around my throat. For a few seconds, I panic telling myself that you want to strangle me. I can’t blame you. I would have done the same thing in your position as you.

But your other hand is tearing off my shirt, leaving my chest completely bare. I’m trying to take advantage of this to clench my fist trying to send a punch into your solar plexus. I hope that it will be enough for you to let me go.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

This man is so handsome, so violent, he arouses me so much. I look at and contemplate your body, thinking that I've had thousands of people stop here over the years, but none had a body as beautiful and perfect. You may be older than most of the truckers I know, but in terms of beauty and eroticism, they don't even come close to you.

I'm going almost mad with desire, unable to stop gazing at you, having been starved for sex with a real man for far too long. And when you punch me, I'm so absorbed by your body that I don't see the blow coming, the one that takes my breath away. I stay on my knees beside you, your fabric in my hand, pretending to catch my breath.

Your punch hurt because you managed to strike with precision despite the lack of power. More by reflex than by choice, I slam my fist into your abs, keeping it pressed down while you see that I'm still gasping for air.

Etienne Moreau

I managed to surprise you. I managed to hurt you. But you are a resistant fighter. Your fist sinks several times into my abs. I am lying down and all your blows are difficult to control. I feel like I will vomit every time you hit me. I have to do something.

Another of your blows hits me and I feel drool starting to come out of my mouth. If I let you do it, I will have a hard time getting by. I’m trying to contract my abs, but it won’t be enough. I try to raise the chest a little hoping to catch your neck and bring your body towards mine to trap you in the guillotine.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

The harder I hit you, the louder I groan, too pleased to see you suffer. I gaze at your perfect body, thinking that once I've subdued you, I'll love being pressed against you. But you don't seem to have time to wait, and you manage to grab my neck, trapping me in a guillotine, my nape under your arm, pressed against your stinking, sweaty armpit while your legs wrap around my muscular waist.

It hurts, but what I regret most is still wearing my apron, so I don't feel your body completely on top of mine. I stiffen my neck and try to force my knees to the ground, grabbing the back of your neck. You're muscular and heavy, very heavy, but you excite me so much that I hold my breath, my face turning even redder with the effort. You see me start to lift you off the ground while you're still holding your guillotine for me, then I run towards the door of my chip shop to smash your back against the glass, hoping to shatter it.

Etienne Moreau

For a few moments, I have the pleasure of seeing you suffer. For a few moments, I have the pleasure of seeing you running out of air. I am sure that I will soon submit you. But I feel my back coming off the floor. For a few seconds, I tell myself that I am hallucinating. That it is surely the effect of excitement that your skin produces against mine.

But no! You are indeed lifting me while countering my guillotine. I am starting to panic. My arms leave your neck, and I try to hit you, but nothing works. You gain speed and I feel an atrocious pain as a burst of glass resounds throughout the space. I find myself on the ground and sharp pains run through my back.

 Damn, you blew me up against the glass door and I feel the blood flowing from my back. Fury invades me. I know that I don’t have much strength anymore, but I grab a shard of glass and try to stick it into your muscular thigh with all the force I am still capable of to pierce your pants.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I see you collapse inside my chip shop, and I chuckle at the sight. Watching you suffer is so satisfying, and the blood slowly seeping from the cuts is a dreamlike vision. I get up and slowly approach you. You're weak enough for me to get down to business. As I come toward you, I undo my apron at the back and lift it to slip the strap over my head, but I never should have.

Overconfident of my victory, I don't see you grab a piece of glass, and your strength, combined with the speed at which I'm moving, causes the glass to pierce my thigh, passing just wide of the bone and showing you that you've driven almost the entire shard into my thigh.

I am in so much pain that I don't even dare to fall to my knees, I remain here facing you, my hand clenched on my apron which I was able to remove, screaming like a madman with my head up, feeling a horrible pain run through my whole body and flood my brain with information of suffering.

Etienne Moreau

I push the most deeply penetrable piece of glass. At one point, I feel a resistance and I know that I am not far from the bone. I look at you and I can admire the pain in your eyes. Your face twists and, amazed, you place your hands on your thigh.

My body is peeing blood, but I’m not finished yet. I try to sit up despite the shards of glass in my back, despite the pain that haunts me, despite my back that pisses blood. I see that you are no longer able to move truly too busy by shouting like a pig whose throat is being cut.

I try a European uppercut to make you back while my other hand has another shard between its fingers, hoping to be able to make you back to the hob.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I take your European uppercut, but the pain in my leg and the rage are so intense that I freeze and instinctively block your arm. I see that you are holding another shard in your hands, it would be far too dangerous if I had another one in my body so I keep your arm in my hand and with my other hand I push you on the chest while pivoting so that the lower part of your back explodes on the edge of the counter without letting go wanting to accentuate the pain on your back, hoping that it will make you drop the piece of glass.

Etienne Moreau

This guy is struggling like few people have struggled against me. I’m starting to wonder which of us is stronger in the end. And I think I don’t have the answer even less when you block my uppercut. I extend my arm to pass the shard of glass through your body. But your hand moves me away by pushing on my chest that your previous punches have already weakened.

I am propelled backwards and my back comes crashing against the metal bar making the glass shards enter deeper into my flesh. I utter an atrocious scream and place my arms along the bar to try to stay standing. You are wearing me out; you are weakening me. But you are too exceptional a fighter for me to give up. I must show you that I never stop fighting. I am breathless and I see a stool next to me. In a desperate gesture, I send it violently towards you hoping that it will finally destroy you.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I'm furious, I can't hold back any longer. This guy is ready to kill me, and I can't let him. He's so much stronger and more powerful than anyone I've ever fought. I hear you scream in pain, which fills me with joy and excitement. I tell myself it's time to weaken you for good, and I grab one of the shards of glass from the floor to lift it and stab you in the shoulder.

But I've barely had time to get up before I see you grab a stool and throw it at my head. I put my hands out, absorbing the impact with my forearms, screaming in pain. But your power is such that I stagger and fall on my back, feeling the shards of glass pierce my bare skin. I arch my back the wrong way, tensing all my muscles, my erection starting to pop my pimples because I love it so much.

Etienne Moreau

For a few moments, I think my last hour has come. It doesn’t last long, but that moment when you are facing me with this piece of glass, ready to push it into my chest... I thought I was finished. I don’t know by what miracle, despite my weakness, despite my bleeding body, the stool reaches its target. I see your body crumbling to the ground and the broken shards entering your back.

You arch your back and everything shows that your bulge is about to explode. I want to finish this fight. I rush over you to sit my muscular ass on your face, watching your chest. Once my ass tries to stop you from breathing, I start punching your well-drawn abs with my fists hoping to smash them to bits.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I find myself screaming, lying on my back, the shard of glass in my leg and back, drawing blood. I feel sick, like I won't be able to get up, and I see you rush towards me, slamming your ass through your dirty, stinking shorts onto my face, cutting off my breath. I feel almost your full weight on my face, which excites me even more, wondering how this man with such a perfect body can drive me so crazy.

I feel your fists assaulting my stomach, and I can't scream beneath your ass. I try to push you away, but I can't. I try to block your arms with my hands, but you push them away and continue your assault. I even try to grab your penis, but your shorts are too tight, and I can't do anything. I can't concentrate, I can't breathe, my head is spinning.

But I don't want to give up, I have to go all in, it's all or nothing, and if it's nothing, it'll be my abs that suffer. I'm fumbling around for a piece of glass to shove into your thigh, not even knowing if what I've grabbed will do any damage or if I'll just make a fool of myself.

Etienne Moreau

I feel your body weakening, I see your mind weakening. You try to resist but you don’t know how to choose between the pleasure I give you and the pain I create in your body. I see you struggling like a glass of earth that knows it is not far from being cut in two.

Your hand grabs a shard of glass, and I see your fist approaching my thigh. I block it and try to bring it back to you and tell you, even if I’m not sure you hear "You want to cut your balls yourself" and I take advantage of my position of strength to approach this shard of your bulge and attempt not to emasculate you but to tear what serves as your pants.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I feel you stop my fist and pull the shard of glass from my hand. Through your shorts, I vaguely hear you talking about cutting my balls off myself. I start to panic and flail my legs, but I feel pressure on my groin and I'm paralyzed by fear, thinking I should never have challenged this trucker and that this mistake is going to cost me my life.

You see my whole-body trembling with anger, excitement, and fear. I expect to scream in pain, but instead I just feel a rush of air as you rip my denim shorts, revealing dirty, smelly briefs, slightly torn, and a huge, hard cock underneath. I feel relieved and relax a little, also sensing that the lack of air from your ass might knock me out very quickly.

Etienne Moreau

Seeing you panic under my ass while I cut your pants in pieces is an incredibly joyful moment. But splendor comes after, once I’ve gotten rid of your pants and underwear with more or less questionable cleanliness. I press a little more firmly on your head with my muscular ass and with one hand I start to hold your stem firm, stiff and wet.

My thumb is starting to slide over your glans. I don’t need to really wet it because you get so wet like a big pig that you are. On the other hand, I feel your body reacting to my caresses and you now struggle in a different way as if you were struggling not to lose your load or as if you were trying not to recognize the pleasure you were taking.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

When you press down on my head with your muscular buttocks, I place my hands on your thighs, pressing hard to show you that I can't breathe and that your blows have hurt, even though it's obvious I'm as hard as a rock. I expect you to make me suffer, but instead you start sliding your thumb over my glans, and I love it.

This guy, so muscular, so perfect, this old hand with a body marked by years and battles, dominates me, and it feels so good, but I don't want to show it. I have to stay defiant and imaginative. I move my legs while you jerk me off, showing you how much I refuse to be satisfied, even though I'm enjoying myself.

You can even hear me moan through your dirty shorts. I reach my arms higher to caress your body and lower back while you play with my cock. Then suddenly, despite the pain my thigh might feel from the shard of glass in it, I try to lift my legs to grab you by the throat and pull your head forward, hoping your head will hit the ground to stun you and move you away from me.

Etienne Moreau

Your moans coming out of your mouth despite my muscular ass give me the incredible pleasure of thinking that I am your true alpha. You are no longer just my submissive as you should have always been. I continue my masturbation work expecting you to cum soon. But while I am totally focused on my desire to give you pleasure, I see your chest getting up. I tell myself that it’s a spasm that will announce your orgasm.

But instead, I feel your hands around my neck. You start to push me back. My back crashes to the ground causing between more often the shards of glass on my skin. Fortunately, your position does not allow you to have too much strength, my head has not been smashed; but I am rolling on my side, trying to straighten up before you.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I take advantage of you being lying down to pull myself up using the counter. I turn my back to you, using the mirror opposite me to see you get up. I see you so powerful and angry, and the blood flowing is magnificent to behold. I must subdue you at all costs. I want you; I desire you more than anything, more than any asshole I've ever seen.

Compared to you, they're nothing but trash. You are a god, and I deserve to subdue a god. When you stand up, I grab the card reader and turn around, trying to smash the corner of your head right in the temple, screaming like a madman.

Etienne Moreau

I get up with difficulty. The shock was violent even if you didn’t manage to smash my skull. You are even faster than me and as I approach you, I see you throwing yourself at me like a fury with something in your hand. I just have time to react.

Honestly, I don’t know where I get this survival instinct from, because that’s really what it is. I throw myself at you in return trying to get my shoulder into your dry and drawn abs and hoping to still have enough strength for your back to crash against the metal bar that allows you to serve the clients.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I'm consumed by nothing but rage and envy as I prepare to strike you, but you dodge by leaning forward and shoulder-bump me hard enough to slam my lower back against the metal bar, which makes me let out a long, drawn-out howl of pain, like an animal caught in a trap.

The pain is immense and I'm not even sure if I can still walk at this moment, but your shoulder on my bruised but still hard abs prevents me from falling and I smash the corner of the map-reading device between your shoulder blades, aiming for your spine too, knowing that the blow will not be strong enough to break it but hoping that it will be strong enough to make you back away.

Etienne Moreau

For a few moments, I feel the pleasure of being in contact with your skin. Of course, it’s violent! Of course, it wants to hurt. But it’s a way to create pain. Hearing your scream, I understand that I at least managed to produce that in you. My shoulders inside you keep you from falling but I know that the metal bar must be deformed by the impact. At this moment, I hear a crunch in my back.

 It is followed by an atrocious pain in my back. I immediately fall to my knees in front of you, understanding too late that you broke the bank terminal behind me. I look at you for a few moments. Is it a kind of pity that I want to ask you, is it an extreme desire that I want to be one with you, is it anger? Impossible to say.

What I know is that I am no longer myself. I am filled with a form of rage that leads me to explode your balls with my forehead by giving you several headbutts in your bulge. The smell that emanates from you every time I approach my nostrils of your dick further increases my desire and my rage.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

The sound of the device breaking and the ensuing scream make me release a little precum through my dirty underwear. Seeing all your muscles contract with exertion makes me dream; I can finally see your body from every angle, and your back is magnificent, so beautiful that I have only one desire: to throw you onto your stomach, rape you, and lick the sweat that drips from your filthy, muscular back, hardened by years of effort and struggle.

I see you pull back your head and deliver several headbutts to my groin, each blow exploding my cock and balls while my back takes another hit from the deformed metal bar. The blows are so impressive and powerful that you manage to dislodge the shard of glass stuck in my thigh, which flies off in a magnificent jet of blood as my upper body begins to writhe in pain and pleasure. I can't think straight anymore; each blow excites and hurts me, enrages me, and fills me with desire.

After an impressive number of headbutts you hear the metal bar behind me explode as I fall to my knees in front of you, I am so devastated that my only reflex is to put a hand on your shoulder to keep from falling, with the other hand I give you a blow to the stomach but this blow feels more like a caress to you as I lack strength, I raise my head towards you, sweating profusely and with bloodshot eyes but a blurred gaze, showing you that your last blows have put me in a daze.

Etienne Moreau

I hit your balls without being able to stop myself. I hit your balls as if my life depended on it. I know that I want to fuck you. I know that I want to show you that you will no longer be the same when I have fucked you. You place your hand on my shoulder as you start to collapse and try to hit me in the stomach. You have less strength but even like that, I feel the impact.

But I smile at you, I even laugh to impress you, as if I wanted to tell you, "Is that all you’re capable of, old man?" I try to wrap my hand around your neck. I whisper in your ear 'Resist! Resist, man! The pleasure will only be greater."

And by saying this, I let myself fall back, dragging your body, your headfirst. I hope it will crash onto the ground, and I can only hope that the shards of glass will disfigure this face. Overall, I just need your mouth and your ass.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I hear you laugh and I feel your hands around my throat, choking me. You squeeze hard, but I quickly tense my neck. My groin burns, but is it the pain or my desire for him that makes me feel this way? I don't know, but I love it. When you speak to me, I want to show you that I'm submissive, that I can't take it anymore, that you are my Master and that I belong to you, that I want to earn your trust.

And when you fall backward, you feel me catch you, my arms around your waist preventing you from falling. I look at you sadistically and twist my torso to the left, smashing your head against a still-intact piece of the metal bar. Then I get up, keeping you in my arms to kiss you forcefully, pressing my lips against yours, not daring to stick out my tongue for fear you'd bite it out, and I let you go, saying, "You're right, resist me, my desire for you will only be greater."

Etienne Moreau

I only manage to place my arms around your neck, but you manage to block my attack by clinging to me as if you couldn’t leave me, as if we were two inseparable magnets. In a few moments, you rotate your chest and my head comes crashing against the metal bar.

My head pisses blood and I have to use my hands for a few seconds to not hinder my vision. I turn around in fury, and I see you still weak but still fighting, always ready to attack. I lift the leg and try to hit with my foot the place of your leg where the shard of glass was embedded.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I stare at you but I'm no longer sure what I'm looking at, my brain short-circuited after the blow to the balls and I'm nothing but instinct, but a tired instinct, which has trouble concentrating and seeing, I want to move towards you, staggering a little to attack you but I see your leg rise and hit my wound which makes me scream like a madman, feeling that all the glass was not entirely out of my thigh, my leg falls back and the other leg bends while I grab the top of your shorts with one hand, my position making you think of a knight kneeling before his king with his leg dangling.

You feel me gripping your shorts tightly, clenching my fist as my body trembles. I place my other hand on your leg and want to try something, but the pain is too intense. I'm breathing hard, letting you know from my breath and moans that I'm exhausted. I lift my head with difficulty to look at you, and the pain combined with desire and the lights of the chip shop make it seem like you're wearing a king's crown. I chuckle, the situation so strange and wonderful, knowing that I no longer have the strength to fight and that this truck driver has defeated me.

Etienne Moreau

I see you falling to your knees and placing a hand on me as if you wanted me to avoid this fall, the thing I’m most looking for at the moment. But, I must say that feeling your skin against mine again, this time in a much softer way, makes me totally excited. My dick is starting to sit up, and I must admit that I even feel my puck palpitate, a sign of a very rare excitement in me.

For a few seconds, I tell myself that I am going to kiss you, but my fighting instinct takes over. I act as if I lean my head towards you, as if I succumbed to your charm. But at the last moment, I raise my knee. I’m trying to violently explode your head. I can’t see exactly what is happening, because the blood flows from my forehead to my eyes. But I must admit that I would hate to see your head move back violently followed by a trickle of blood coming out of your nose before you crash onto the ground.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I am out of breath and I have trouble thinking, our masculine scents have invaded the room and the heat of the night rushing in through the broken door accentuates this smell, I moan with pleasure letting myself be carried by the pain as if I were on a cushion of pleasure.

The edge of my fingers on your pubic hair is so soft to feel and you approach so gently, without you noticing I take a piece of glass in my hand, ready to try to strike in self-defense but I don't have time, your knee smashes my nose, which makes me throw my head back, leaving a long vertical trail of blood on your body and face as I fall backward, this blow has stunned me even more and the cushion of pleasure has pierced to reveal an even more acute pain, I scream in pain as I try to crawl on my back to back away, trying to escape you, despite the pain and the dizziness you see that I have a raging hard-on as I back away and my back reaches the foot of a bench screwed to the wall.

Etienne Moreau

Once my knee has hit your face, I run my hand over my eyes to try to wipe the blood that continues to flow from my forehead. I first see your bloody face, then your body backing onto your back, and finally the spattering of your blood on my body. I pass a hand over my abs to take some of your blood that I start to lick with relish.

This smell, this taste, all of it makes me even more cruel and I know that the only way I have to enjoy your body, is to destroy it completely first. I follow you, you lying down and me standing, as if I were a wild beast and you a defenseless prey. Seeing your gaze makes me even madder with the desire to possess you.

Your eyes, your gestures, even your breathing, everything indicates that you are starting to panic. When your back is blocked by the bench, you look totally frightened. I can only be jubilant about this situation. Seeing you, the valiant fighter, totally in panic, makes me want to mistreat you even more. I lift my foot hoping to violently crush your dick once again hoping that it is enough to lead you towards fainting.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I see you coming towards me, so proud, so arrogant, so regal. The blood flowing from your head makes you even more beautiful to behold, and mine, added to yours, completes this wondrous tableau. But you want me dead; I can see it in your eyes. You take pleasure in beating a fighter, and I like it.

But I know that if I don't react, I'm dead. I must try to bring you down or at least flee. But when I see you reveling in my blood, I tremble. It's so beautiful that I focus my gaze on this scene, making me think of a wild beast thirsting for my blood, my own blood.

This situation is sublime, but I mustn't let myself be taken advantage of. I must find a way to retaliate. When you crush my penis, I scream in pain, but I instinctively keep your foot pressed against my penis, I try to muster the little strength I have to deliver a violent heel kick right into your testicles while releasing your foot, hoping that it will be enough despite my blurred vision and lack of strength.

Etienne Moreau

You are trapped, stuck against this bench and I don’t see how you could escape the suffering I am going to inflict on you. My foot lands on your hard and thick bulge and I think I start by caressing it more than crushing it. I feel its humidity and I understand how excited you are by this fight, almost as much as me.

But my desire to destroy you takes over. I want to make you moan with pleasure; I want to make you scream my name of desire but first I must destroy you, defeat you. I start to press all the force of my thighs on your bulge. You don’t struggle, strangely and I tell myself that I have already entered your mind, that I have already invaded your thoughts.

While I am obsessed with this desire for domination, I don’t see your fist approaching my thighs. When the pain overwhelms me, it’s too late... You just blew my balls off. I fall on your knees screaming like a dying beast. So close to the goal and fail... I blame myself for being led like that more by my dick than by my brain knowing full well that I am now in a very difficult position.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I can barely move, and pain seeps into my entire body. I breathe heavily and smiling at the sight of you on your knees, I shake my head to collect myself and lean on the bench, placing my arms behind me to help me stand up and sit down. I could kick you, but I only have enough strength left to tell you to back away.

My gaze quickly falls on the table, then I place my left hand on it and with my right, I grab your head and pull it down, pinning your neck between my thighs. I cross my ankles before reaching for the saltshaker that was on the table and pouring it down your back, onto your wounds, as if I were generously salting French fries.

Etienne Moreau

For a few moments, I am only focused on my pain and on this burn that invades my lower abdomen. I think that I am almost finished and that it will only take you a move or two to finish me. I feel you grabbing my head and pressing it between your thighs; the moist, musky smell that invades my nostrils delights me, but I am terrified that you won’t have your back against the bar after making a powerbomb.

I am a little worried when I understand that nothing is happening. Then suddenly, my back starts to burn to such an extent that I can only scream again. I don’t understand what is happening but the pain that invades me is such that I will almost be about to submit.

I hesitate for a few moments then I decide to try everything for the whole. I clench my fist and try to hit your thigh, at the level where the shard of glass entered, hoping that it will be enough for you to let go of me.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I hear you scream, and those screams please me; it means I've finally defeated you. Your head is locked, and I'm making you suffer, even though I have to use all my strength to hold the saltshaker because the pain is so intense. I'm barely holding on with my other hand to the edge of the bench, but I want to destroy you. I wanted to believe it more than anything, but instead, you slam your fist into my thigh.

I don't even have the strength to stop you, and when your fist hits my wound, the pain is so intense that I instinctively spread my thighs wide, freeing you completely. My hands rub my scalp to ease the pain that settles there and is redirected throughout my body, dropping the saltshaker onto my chest, where the remaining salt spills. I can't take it anymore, all my muscles are hardening, every fiber is stretched to the extreme and my whole body is trembling as I spread my arms without even being able to scream, totally paralyzed by pain and fear, I want to moan a few words of supplication while tears run down my cheeks but I am unable to, I can only suffer hoping that my opponent collapses, too exhausted by the pain.

Etienne Moreau

When your legs stop crushing my head, I feel free. Tired, exhausted, destroyed but free. Honestly, I don’t know how I will be able to continue the fight against an opponent as tough as you. But you spill the saltshaker on your body lacerated with abrasions. Your cries are as powerful as mine just now and your face seems to suffer like a martyr.

I see your body trembling and all your muscles are even more magnificent when you are in the process of suffering. I want to make you suffer even more. I lean on the bar to try to get up and see a bottle of spicy sauce right in front of my hand. I think I found a way to finish you off; I think I found a way to finish you off.

I grab the tube with my whole hand and start pressing hoping that powerful jets can crash into your injured body. I look at you with a bad look while telling you 'You’re eating too much salt, the Belgian. We’ll have to spice it up.'

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

My body is frozen by so much suffering; I'm at the peak of pain, I can't take any more, or at least that's what I thought before you came with the sauce to douse me. I start screaming even louder, the chili and garlic burning me intensely. I've never felt such pain.

The truck driver says something to me, but all I can hear are my own screams. I start thrashing around like an earthworm on the bench, screaming uncontrollably until the pain disconnects me and I collapse, completely dazed.

Etienne Moreau

Suddenly you collapse on the ground, totally dizzy from the pain. For a few seconds, I am quite proud of myself. Being able to put you on the ground despite my resistance is a form of pride.

But I feel like a void when you are no longer there to bruise my body. I approach you and say, 'You’re going to wake up, the Belgian'. I get on my knees and start lifting your legs after tearing your tights. I place the spicy sauce tip between your two buttocks and make sure it’s stuck in your asshole. I start to press hard on the sauce so that the mixture of chili and garlic comes to invade your ass.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

Finally, the sweet release of unconsciousness. I could stay like that for hours, but you decided otherwise. I start to feel the tip of my anus stinging, which makes me moan despite being unconscious. Then you unleash the sauce all at once, and I wake up screaming, lunging forward like a frightened dog.

I kick you towards your chest before slamming against the wall and turning around, my anus dripping with hot sauce as I drool, fully awake but my anus bruised like never before. As I turn, I look at you, hoping that kick has finished you off, my gaze like that of a rabbit caught in the headlights of a truck.

Etienne Moreau

Damn, I woke up the sleeping beast. Your kick comes to take my breath away and I feel like you must have broken a rib. I don’t drop the bottle of hot sauce, and I try to send it into your eyes. I don’t know if I will manage to aim well enough to weaken you.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I know you can still attack me, and I have to stay focused on the fight, but my head is spinning too much and the pains throughout my body are returning. I stare at you, hoping to see something through this long tunnel of fog, then I see something coming towards me.

Mechanically, I reach out my hands, but I miss the almost empty bottle which hits my face, hurting my already broken nose especially and making me reflexively throw my head back, which knocks me out even more. I see the bottle fall to the ground and reflexively I kick it back at you, falling on my buttocks, as it is impossible for me to stand on one foot in my condition.

Etienne Moreau

I am so angry, so angry, that I don’t really look where I aim. The flask crashes against your nose, injuring it again, but not enough to put you completely KO. You send the flask back to my face and I just have time to dodge it while protecting myself with my arms.

When I see you again, you are sitting on your buttocks. In a somewhat arrogant manner, I flexed my dirty muscles covered with hematomas and blood. I grab you by the skull to get you up and stick my chest to your back, wedging your throat with one of my arms.

My other hand rests on your stiff dick. We are in front of the stove just in front of the oil bath and we both feel this mixture of sweat and fat escaping from our bodies and the place. I start to masturbate you by biting your ear hoping to excite you in the most complete way possible.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I'm truly at my wit's end, and I see you so arrogant for having beaten me, yet so beautiful at the same time. Your muscular, stinking body, covered in blood and sweat, is magnificent. I have no choice but to let you pull me up, feeling your powerful hands around my head.

I place my hands on yours as you lift me, pressing my back against your muscular, incredibly arousing chest. I love the sound of your biceps around my neck. I feel so dominated by you, so submissive. I smell the stale fried food from my old oil vats, and I'm afraid of a dirty blow, but instead, I start moaning with pleasure as you masturbate me.

And when you bite my ear, I go even crazier. You can hear me moaning with pleasure, as if deep down I desired this moment. This feeling of well-being is so surprising, but I can't fight it anymore, and I wouldn't want to. Fueled by excitement, I raise both arms as if I wanted to pull your arm away from my neck, but instead I caress you, letting you know that I love this position. Then, with a moan of mixed pain and pleasure, I manage to ask you softly, "What's your name, handsome trucker?"

Etienne Moreau

For a few moments, I was afraid that you would revolt. For a few moments, I thought you would refuse to let it happen. But you are more submissive than I thought. Unless I give you more pleasure than I hoped. I see your body starting to twist but it’s no longer pain.

I see your skin stuck to mine, your hand that joins my arm against your neck, my hand that works your dick, our two bodies that will soon become one. I hear your moans and I know that you hear the way my breathing becomes a continuous rale. I am still exhausted but the happiness of giving you pleasure makes me valiant.

My blood is starting to coagulate on my multiple wounds but it’s nothing compared to what we will soon experience. I know that I no longer need to hold you so that you stay with me. My arm is loosening from your neck, and my hand comes to caress your pecs before stopping on one of your nipples that I start working while continuing to polish your dick more and more intensively.

"My name is Etienne! You will never forget my name but especially what I am going to do for you will remain marked forever in your memory."

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

Your ragged breath and tired voice tell me that you want me as much as I want you. The place to fuck is strange, but this guy is an animal who wants me everywhere, and I love it. When your arm leaves my neck, I don't even have the reflex to fight back or resist; I don't even want to. I'm yours, and you feel it.

When your hand starts to work my nipple, I moan and throw my head back in pleasure as your hand intensely strokes me. I begin to caress your muscular chest with my back. It hurts, but the pleasure you give me prevents the pain from engulfing my entire body. I caress the forearm that's stroking me while, with my other hand, I lift it and grasp your head, letting your arm, which is still working my nipple, rest beneath my arm.

Then I timidly turn my head, and you hear a pleading moan, "Etienne, it's a powerful name for a powerful man, I'll never forget these moments." And then I dare to add, "Kiss yourself, please Etienne, kiss me," and I timidly offer my lips to you while you see from my eyes that I'm going crazy over everything you're doing to me, watching you with fascination and desire.

Etienne Moreau

Not only do you no longer struggle, but still, you seem to take pleasure. Almost as passionately as the one I am taking. You turn your face and ask me to kiss you. I can’t resist. My tongue penetrates your mouth, mingles with your tongue while my hand forcefully works your cock which becomes harder and harder.

The more my tongue is in you, the more I feel a rare pleasure. I take it out to ask if I can penetrate you in another way. My request is not that of a master, not that of a conqueror. It is humble and you can undoubtedly guess in my voice that a negative response will be an infinite disappointment.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

When you agree to kiss me, you feel precum trickle onto your fingers as I moan with pleasure in your mouth. I've been defeated, and strangely enough, I like it. This guy isn't just anyone; he's a destroyer, and I bet he destroys anuses as well as bodies.

When you ask me if you can penetrate me, I softly reply, "Fuck me, fuck me, I beg you, make me your sex object, I belong to you, my handsome Etienne, I am yours, fuck me." You see that I caress you with even more desire. I know my ass is burning from the sauce, but I desperately need a cock inside me, HIS cock inside me. I move my ass a little to show you that I am completely ready to receive you inside me, moaning with undisguised desire.

Etienne Moreau

While I thought I had to fight to conquer you, while I thought I had to use violence to penetrate you, nothing is going as I had planned. The kiss we exchange is totally changing the way I imagined the end of this story. You not only respond favorably to my request but in addition, you are putting yourself into it, which is driving me crazy.

I don’t wait much longer to get inside you. My dick is swollen like never before and I feel the resistance of your tight hole. I try to go slow, without wanting to hurt you, just so you feel how much I desire you. When I feel that you are used to my thickness, I start to go deeper until I feel this resistance which marks that one has reached the prostate.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I so badly want to tear it apart, destroy it, but I want it too much—too much sex, too much him. I feel you gently entering me, the sauce hurts and acts like a strange lubricant but this pain excites me more than anything, I tremble with pleasure and pain, I dreaded and eagerly awaited this moment and when you reach the bottom of my prostate, I have a bestial glint in my eye and I say to you "But fuck, fuck me, bitch, rape, are you lacking muscle in your dick or what?"

You hear in my provocations that I am simply excited and dominated, while feeling powerful and conquering, conquering to have a guy taking care of me.

Etienne Moreau

While I try to take care of you, while I am being attentive to you, I hear you insulting me and asking me to rape you. At the same moment, I realize the effect of hot sauce on my own dick. It bruises me more than ever and the pain that engulfs me is great.

And it’s your fault if I suffer. My compassion is dying to be replaced by a demented fury. I give violent blows in your ass as if I thought it could stop these burns that are eating my dick. I am in jackhammer mode as if it would ease my pain.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

That's it, the beast is unleashed, you're raping me and I love it. I feel like a poor piece of pavement that your enormous tool is tearing apart, and I love it. I hear you moan in pain, telling me that the sauce must have finally reached you, and I start to laugh softly through the grunts and moans of pleasure you're giving me.

I put my hands on the edge of the oil pans, but the oil is boiling and the splashes hurt. You see me moving my hands around a bit to make sure I have a grip, because I feel myself being thrown forward by the violence of your thrusts, and I feel your enormous anus destroyer destroying my prostate. My body starts to tremble, feeling that my ejaculation is close, and my whole body hardens again, trying to stop me from ejaculating into the fryers in front of us.

Etienne Moreau

Your whole body is in a trance and mine is no more glorious. I suffer and the shards of glass in my skin are painful but the pleasure I give you and the one you are giving me make me forget everything. It’s no longer the blood that flows over my body, it’s sweat. It is no longer cries of pain that escape from my mouth, they are moans of pleasure. I am at the end of my strength, I am exhausted, but I know that the path we are going to take will be incredible.

My pelvis strokes are trying to gain more intensity. They are slower, but more powerful I hope. I want you to understand that my destruction will leave traces in your flesh, in your ass, in your mind. I lean towards your ear to blow you sensually between two hoarse rales: 'Give your juice to Daddy, babe.'

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I can tell you're good, and your muscular body, stiffening with exertion, must be magnificent to behold. Then your movements become slower but more powerful. My eyes widen, and I moan, "Fuck... too big... too strong... stop... fuck..."

My ass is being destroyed. No one has ever fucked me so hard, with such intensity and desire. After such a violent struggle, I feel my mind cracking, letting shards of your sweat seep into my soul. Then my mind shatters. I feel like I'm nothing more than a puppet in your hands. When you lean close to my ear, I grab your head with both hands as you whisper in my ear in your animalistic, rutting voice.

You hear me moan and whimper like a little dog, then all my muscles tense like never before, revealing every fiber. My eyes become more prominent than ever, and then I start to groan in a hoarse, heavy voice like an exhausted bear as I ejaculate into the boiling oil of my fryers, my fingers tightening around your head, hurting you a little and, above all, making you feel just how immense my pleasure is. I start to ejaculate impressive streams of sperm as Etienne fucks me like a violent and merciless god.

Etienne Moreau

It’s no longer just your voice that moans, it’s all your being. It is no longer only your body that is seized with spasms, it is your entire being; I know that I am not far from achieving my goal, to mark you forever. I can’t even imagine what your ass must look like because I am opening it with force. You respond to my invitation by ejaculating as rarely I have seen it.

The cries you make me want to dry you so much you seem to be having fun. I feel the drops of boiling oil crashing on my skin and burning me, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Your hand comes towards my face with passionate violence reopening the wounds that were drying out. I slow down the pace a bit and tell you in a tone both mocking and threatening "Eat your fries of sperm, the Belgian or else I continue to destroy your ass!"

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

While I’m coming, I feel the splashes on my skin, but the grime and copious sweat from the pounding of your enormous cock help me bear the pain, which is nothing compared to what my ass is feeling. After I come, I feel my hole tighten, and you keep pounding away, long and powerful.

I watch my sperm float to the surface, frying, and the sight would almost make me laugh if my ass weren’t being so thoroughly wrecked. And the worst part is, I love it. It feels like my anus is on fire, but your muscular torso sliding against my broad, taut back drives me even crazier. I loosen my grip and, taking the spatula, I reply in a hoarse voice, “Destroy my ass while I eat my sperm fries.”

Etienne Moreau

Damn, you are the perfect guy. I don’t know if it’s the pleasure I give you that drives you to obey me in this way, but I didn’t expect it. I see your arm lowering and your hand grabbing the spatula. You pick up small pieces all fried. They almost look like mussels and fries but it’s much more interesting than that. I continue to tease you with the same threatening and teasing air as before.

“Eat, Eat the Belgian and the more you eat of it, the more you will feel the good that my dick will give you." And I still reach the pace to encourage you to take action. I feel that I won’t last long and that I am about to enjoy. But I first want to see you eat your own sperm before enjoying the happiness of filling you up.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I instinctively wait for the oil to cool down a bit, wanting to enjoy the pounding of this magnificent God a little longer. I look at you with tears in my eyes, so thoroughly has my mind been crushed by your cock. Between moans of pleasure and pain, I answer you, "Yes... yes... Master."

Then I feel you speed up the movement, making the sperm-covered fries move in my spatula. I comply, slowly taking a sperm-covered fry and, looking at you, I eat it in one gulp. Then I take the second and start sucking it, moaning with the strange pleasure of feeling my fried sperm. I take the two remaining fries and put half of them in my mouth before turning to you, offering you a taste of this magnificent product.

Etienne Moreau

I see you obeying me and full of happiness you call me Master. I feel that I won’t last long and the effrenous rhythm that I put your ass through excites me to the highest degree. Seeing you eat your own sperm drives me crazy and when I swallow the last two fries you hand me.... It’s too much for me.

My body begins to shiver, my raucous cries turn into a moan of pleasure, my breathing is shaken by spasms. I just have time to shout FUUUUCK that I feel that I am filling this divine ass with my sperm.

My ropes are numerous and I don’t even want to count them; I just want to enjoy the pleasure I am taking having completely lost control of myself. I just want to enjoy that you are giving me by making me lose control of myself.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I am so obedient, so submissive to my new Master, I want to please him and make him happy. I eat slowly, and when I see you swallow my own sperm, I'm happy. Then I feel your movements become incredibly violent, making me drop my spatula as I feel streams of sperm pouring into my ravaged hole. I see your eyes roll back in my head.

I want to savor this moment fully. I grab your face and kiss you deeply, showing you my complete and absolute submission as you impregnate me. I feel you lose all control during your orgasm; you are nothing but pleasure and desire, and I like it. It was a long and hard process.

I had to submit more than I should have to make you lower your guard, and that's exactly what I wanted. Besides, your perversion even provided me with the perfect spot. I can stop pretending now. It was exciting, but that bastard needs to know that no one beats me without paying the price.

I become gentle and tender while you still climax inside me, and I say to you in a submissive voice, "You gave me everything: violence, blood, pain, screams, pleasure, sex, you gave me everything... but there is one thing you did not give me... YOUR LIFE." and while keeping my hands on your head I suddenly back up to smash your lower back against the metal corner of my display stand before removing your cock from my hole and pushing you forward, positioning myself behind you as I plunge your head into the fryer, one of my hands grips the back of your head while the other grabs the back of your neck and I feel my fingers burn when they come into contact with the boiling oil, I know I'm going to lose them and I want to scream but my anger is beyond limits, I continue to hold your head under the boiling oil as I fuck you like an animal, savagely thrusting my still hard cock into your hole while you drown in the oil.

Etienne Moreau

I am no longer myself as I am filling the hole. I have this feeling of all power. You call me Master; you recognize your position as an inferior guy. You finally understood what your status was. I even think that I will stay some time in this place to enjoy this new submissive. You look at me with desire, and it makes me so proud.

For a few moments, I feel like the supreme alpha of place. Your hands of the loser come to caress the head of your winner. But suddenly, you back away violently and my back comes to hit the metal corner of a piece of furniture with force, driving deep into the shards of glass on my back.

I scream in pain and you take advantage of it to get my dick out of your ass. As I writhe in pain without understanding what is happening, you grab my head with both hands. I don’t have time to react. The pain is too great. But it is nothing when it comes to what I feel when my head enters the boiling oil bath. I scream like never before.

At the same moment, I feel your dick penetrating my hole with incredible violence. I open my mouth wide to take my breath and scream. The oil penetrates into my lungs. My body is in spasms for several minutes while I struggle to stay alive even if it’s impossible and you take the opportunity to kiss my ass.

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

I can't even feel the pain anymore, even though my fingers are frying like stale meatballs, my eyes are bloodshot, and all I can do is groan and scream while I hold your head in the boiling oil. The spasms of your body crush my cock so hard I feel like you're going to rip it off, but the pain is so good that I start to come again, filling the hole of the soon-to-be-corpse in front of me. My head lifts and my eyes roll back as I come, completely losing control, only able to focus on my cock and the hole I'm filling.

Etienne Moreau

I know that I won’t be long. But for a few more seconds, I am overwhelmed by contradictory sensations. The upper part of my body suffers from martyrdom, and I know that I am already dead or almost dead, that there is nothing more to do against it.

The lower part of my body is now experiencing a form of pleasure while your dick is beating me up; my dick is starting to harden and leaks like never before. I believe that I am about to enjoy again. But is it pleasure or a form of automatism? A guy dying with his head scalded in oil can he still have fun? My body is crossed by two or three spasms then nothing more... The emptiness... My body is inert and only my dick is still stiff, escaping from precum... I am dead...

Luke Freyr-Sullivan

Once I've finished coming inside you, I see you're no longer moving. I can't even feel the pain in my fingers anymore. I pull you out of the fryer and throw you to the ground, tearing off a few of my fingers in the process, which crack as they detach like overcooked fries. I see you naked, with an erection.

Your penis is still thick and hard despite your death, and I decide to take advantage of it. I don't even think; I sit on your penis, impaling myself and groaning with pleasure. I'm pleasuring myself while your lifeless body lies there. I caress your scalded face with my missing fingers, as if I'm admiring you again, even though your face is now unrecognizable.

I ride you for a long time, and the blood flowing from you is magnificent to see, covering your torso, your face, and the floor... but... it's not your blood, it's mine. My wounds have reopened, and I'm bleeding profusely. Seeing my open thigh spilling out impressive streams of blood, I don't even feel pain. I'm just experiencing the pleasure of your cock as I feel you automatically send another dose of sperm inside me. I smile, lifting my head to the sky as I feel myself being filled again, and everything grows darker and darker.

 I can barely see the lights, I can barely breathe, I can barely think. That's it, it's over for me too. I start laughing stupidly as my blood escapes from my body, almost like a wall waterfall of glowing red water, I lower my head to see your face through this long black tunnel from which I hear screams of agony before collapsing on your body, keeping your cock inside me, my last breath allowing me to say, "That was great."

THE END

Published: 2026-04-05, viewed 108 times.