Didn't expect to write this, but Henry Cavill can have that effect on you.
Warning: Homophobic violence
You had gotten what you wanted. You didn't know him, he didn't work in your office directly but the one next door. But you shared a bathroom. You saw him in there frequently. He was too hot. He didn't seem human. The first time you saw him you were obsessed. You had to excuse yourself from your desk to stick your finger up your pussy while you sat on the toilet thinking about him.
You learned his name: Tom. A friend greeted him when he saw him in the bathroom. That didn't help the obsession. You wanted to stand right next to him in the urinal and just... look down. You knew it had to be huge. Everything else on him was. When you found out his last name you spent all night gooning while you took in the morsels of his mostly private or nonexistent social media.
He was a wrestler in college. A good one. He never lost the physique. Doing an image search, you found a somewhat blurry picture of him shirtless on the beach with his friends about 8 years ago. That enough for two orgasms. His body was perfect.
He was married. Had children. He was a corporate lawyer. You found his name of a local rugby team's Facebook page. Apparently he played. You saw a picture of just his back in his rugby uniform and you screamed his name while you eeked out another orgasm from your pathetic cock. His big quads and shapely ass apparent in the skimpy uniform.
Even just standing there he was perfect. In the bathroom, listening to his friend talk about whatever men talked about. He was a god. He was your god.
You had to have him. And you knew he would never entertain the idea. Finally, you had gone crazy with lust. You basically knew his meeting schedule and the pattern of his bladder. At 9:25am he was usually hurrying to the urinals to relieve himself before his 9:30am. You went too. Sure enough, you saw him standing there. Gathering all your courage you went right up next to him at the urinal, something you had never dared to do. You usually just went into a stall, rubbing your hole as you heard his piss stream hitting the urinal.
When you went up beside him you froze momentarily. And then you did it. You looked down. FUCK! Like everything else on him, perfection. A masterly crafted cock. Thicker than average and it looked big even soft. What a fucking stud. You stared. You wanted him to notice. You were going all in. He did notice. He, at first, couldn't believe someone would be so brazen. But no, this fag was looking at his cock. He felt a rush of anger flood over him. But he kept it down. He grunted loudly, hoping to scare the little fag from staring at his manhood. I mean, it was definitely impressive. Anyone would say that. But he didn't want a fag staring at it.
To Tom's surprise, you didn't even blink. No, you were committed. And you were actually pretty entranced by the beauty of the massive slab of meat in front of you. Had dreamed of his cock and it was better than you imagined. Perfectly proportioned, all the right vascularity.... both scary and enticing. You were only thinking about what his sweaty cock must taste like after rugby practice when you heard him grunt loudly. No, sorry Tom, that wouldn't scare you. You were ready for anything.
When you didn't even flinch at Tom's obvious signal to stop staring at his hairy, manly cock, he felt the anger flood over him again. And this time, there was no stopping it. "What the FUCK are you doing?" Tom said loudly. Fuck he looked hot angry too. You were prepared for a reaction like this. In fact, you sort of hoped he would react like this. You knew he was a real man. And you wanted him to hate a fag who would perv on him like this. The next moment took every bit of courage you had. You knew after saying it there was no coming back.
"You have a really nice cock man. Why don't you let me suck it?" The face he made on hearing that. Fuck. It was pure hatred. Hatred for you. It made you tremble a bit. You could feel all his hate and anger. You know you had done it. You had gone too far. But there was no going back.
"You fucking faggot, I'm going to teach you a lesson you piece of shit," he said, with pure contempt. It made you feel weak, terrified, and like you wanted that huge cock you had just spied on to thrust into your hole as roughly as possible. You watched your obsession take off his jacket. And he quickly cracked his knuckes. And then, he came at you.
The first hit was to your gut. A big gut punch. And that doesn't even capture half of it. You didn't even know a punch could feel like that. You doubled over and fell to the ground, holding your stomach. "Fuck yeah!" he said. He was animal. You had ignited something inside of him. A feeling he sometimes feels a hint of but is always careful to stifle it. Not this time. Now with you, the fag who just creeped on him in the workplace bathroom. He was going to make you pay for that.
"Get up fag," he said, grabbing you by the hair. Through the pain, you made a yelp as he roughly grabbed your hair. Your weak body was nothing to him. He picked you up without straining. "Guess you didn't get it beaten into you in high school that you shouldn't even look at straight guys like that, huh? Let me help teach you the lesson." BOOM! His fist collided with your face. A spurt of blood shot out. He had probably just broken your nose. You screamed a bit at the pain as you flew back, crashing again on the ground. You received a swift kick to your midsection, and he said, "Shut the fuck up you little queer." Fuck, you imagined him saying things like this to you when you were dildoing your little hole, the light of your laptop displaying any picture you could find of him. And now it was real. It was all too real as pain exploded in your body.
"I'm not fucking done yet, faggot," he said. He lowered himself on top of you, straddling your pathetic weak chest. He came down hard, the air escaping your body as you wheezed. He looked down at your face. Your scared little face with blood still pouring out of your fucked up nose. Fuck. This felt good, he thought. He hadn't felt like this in a while. He could obviously hold his own in a fight, and he had gotten in more than a few of them in college. Had taught some fags a lesson before as well, but only a couple of times. Looking down at the scared, pathetic mess of homo garbage under him, he felt a fire within him that he usually had to keep down. He felt like a fucking warrior. An alpha. He wanted to fuck this faggot up. And enjoy himself in the process.
And so, he looked down at you, and you met his eyesight, and stared at him through the pain. Your god. Your angry, wrathful god. And he smiled an evil smile at you. He made a fist with his hand, and you winced involuntarily. He brought the big meaty fist to his face. You watched in awe of him, even noticing how his shirt sleeves were straining against his big biceps. But most of all, that big, manly balled up fist. He examined it himself, bringing it to his face, with the evil smile still on his face. And then he looked down at you. He slowly brought the fist to your face. Well, at least slower than a punch. His big, awesome first was right in your eyesight. And you could only stare at it. Until, at last, he said, "Kiss my fist faggot." You had to stifle a little moan. Even though the pain wracking your body, you were a true faggot. You needed that fist. You puckered your lips and gave his fist a gentle kiss, at the end, you brought his eyes back up to his. He was loving it. And you were taken by how much he was loving it.
Fuck... this is power, he thought. "I'm going to give you a souvenir," he said, as your lips left his fist. You weren't sure what he meant exactly but then you saw the big fist raising above him and you finally got the idea right as his fist exploded against your face, directly towards your right eye. The feeling was larger than life. More than you could ever imagine. So much power, so much hate behind it. You made some strange noise you had never heard yourself make directly after impact. "FUCK YEAH!" he said, almost involuntarily. Seeing that stupid fag get destroyed like this, so easily. Fuck he was powerful. He did what came natural next and spit in your stupid fag face as you recoiled in pain. And then he couldn't help himself. "Actually, going to give you two to remember this day by," he said and then his left fist connected with the left side of your face.
You were almost positive you were going to pass out. You could immediately feel your face begin to swell, but that was only a dull sensation behind the throbbing pain. Again you felt his spit hit your face. Fuck he hated you. He stood up then. You were happy because you weren't certain you couldn't even handle another punch. Then you felt his hands on your body roughly dragging you across the bathroom floor. You felt your pants rip, your faggy pink underwear exposed to him. Fuck!
And then he brought you the toilet. Fuck, he thought, haven't done this since highschool. He grabbed your hair again lifting it from the floor. Your head was a bit limp from all the abuse. He brought your head, roughly, just above the toilet water. “You ever get a swirly in high school you dumb homo?†he asked, his voice still thick with anger and adrenaline. “… no…†you said truthfully. “Well, time to make up for lost time.†And he plunged your head into the toilet. With one hand he could easily keep your head down in the water and then he kicked hard right on to your ass. Your instinct was of course to immediately lift your head out of the toilet. But you were no match for his strength. He was a different species from you. After a few kicks, still holding your head down, he delivered a couple of punches to your back and side.
By now you were, rather violently and urgently, trying to get your head out of water to at least get oxygen in your lungs, and still, you felt his big, unrelenting hand pushing you. Finally he brought your head up out of the water, you gasped for breath, and then he immediately plunged it back down again. You couldn’t see the crazy look in his eye as he did this, gritting his teeth in aggression as he forced your head down. And then he flushed the toilet. He still held you down, struggling for air until finally there was less and less water. He let go of your head completely in the middle of the flush and you urgently picked yourself out of the bowl and slid down the toilet in a panic gasping. You must have looked so stupid. Your face all busted up, wet with toilet water, gasping for air. Once you collected yourself a bit, from the bathroom floor, you looked up at him. And you saw God.
He looked hungry. He looked like... he looked like he wanted to fuck you. Fuck you or kill you. You certainly hoped it was the former, but would accept anything from your god. It wasn’t like he was a faggot, but he saw you as wounded prey. And now he wanted to completely dominate and control you. You stared up at him, and despite it all, you yourself had a look of hunger through the blood, swelling, and developing bruises on your face.
At the risk of further violence inflicted on your already damaged body, right there on the bathroom floor on your back, still wet with toilet water you had just been dunked in, you managed to spread your legs. Presenting your hole to him through your ripped pants. Sure, you still had your skimpy underwear on, but the pink color almost made them look like panties. Panties covering a pussy for a man like him to fuck.
You weren't sure exactly how he would react but from the look in his eye before, you felt it was worth the risk to see what happened. You imagined the feeling of roughly taking you on the bathroom floor. Your broken, bruised body getting invaded by his straight, angry, HUGE cock. The only thing you could think was "Conquer me! CONQUER ME!" And, a bit to your surprise, he was considering it. He was looking down at you, breathing hard, but a look of a mix of hunger and contemplation. You could tell he was holding himself back. He wanted to conquer. To rape. And you wanted him to unleash his sexual fury onto you and your hole. You knew you would be such a perfect little sex toy for him. If only he would do it. You got a desperate look on your face. You even dared to croak out, "Please..." And he almost did.
And then he heard someone coming.
"Leave here when no one's in here. Go home. Call in sick. Make up a story about how someone jumped you. I don't care, just handle it fag. Will make me happy to see you walking around with those shiners. Fuck you faggot," he said, his spit landing on you one final time. He then shut the stall on you. You heard the door open, and could see him putting back on his jacket from under the stall. He briefly greeted the man coming in, who went straight to the urinals. He washed his hands and left the bathroom like nothing happened.
You weren't about to tell anyone what he did. You didn't want to mess up his perfect life with the wife and kids. You just wanted to be an outlet for his anger. And mission accomplished. You would listen to what he said and do it. Because he was your god. And this would be excellent masturbating fodder for the weekend and beyond.
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An Office Fagbashing
Didn't expect to write this, but Henry Cavill can have that effect on you.
Warning: Homophobic violence
You had gotten what you wanted. You didn't know him, he didn't work in your office directly but the one next door. But you shared a bathroom. You saw him in there frequently. He was too hot. He didn't seem human. The first time you saw him you were obsessed. You had to excuse yourself from your desk to stick your finger up your pussy while you sat on the toilet thinking about him.
You learned his name: Tom. A friend greeted him when he saw him in the bathroom. That didn't help the obsession. You wanted to stand right next to him in the urinal and just... look down. You knew it had to be huge. Everything else on him was. When you found out his last name you spent all night gooning while you took in the morsels of his mostly private or nonexistent social media.
He was a wrestler in college. A good one. He never lost the physique. Doing an image search, you found a somewhat blurry picture of him shirtless on the beach with his friends about 8 years ago. That enough for two orgasms. His body was perfect.
He was married. Had children. He was a corporate lawyer. You found his name of a local rugby team's Facebook page. Apparently he played. You saw a picture of just his back in his rugby uniform and you screamed his name while you eeked out another orgasm from your pathetic cock. His big quads and shapely ass apparent in the skimpy uniform.
Even just standing there he was perfect. In the bathroom, listening to his friend talk about whatever men talked about. He was a god. He was your god.
You had to have him. And you knew he would never entertain the idea. Finally, you had gone crazy with lust. You basically knew his meeting schedule and the pattern of his bladder. At 9:25am he was usually hurrying to the urinals to relieve himself before his 9:30am. You went too. Sure enough, you saw him standing there. Gathering all your courage you went right up next to him at the urinal, something you had never dared to do. You usually just went into a stall, rubbing your hole as you heard his piss stream hitting the urinal.
When you went up beside him you froze momentarily. And then you did it. You looked down. FUCK! Like everything else on him, perfection. A masterly crafted cock. Thicker than average and it looked big even soft. What a fucking stud. You stared. You wanted him to notice. You were going all in. He did notice. He, at first, couldn't believe someone would be so brazen. But no, this fag was looking at his cock. He felt a rush of anger flood over him. But he kept it down. He grunted loudly, hoping to scare the little fag from staring at his manhood. I mean, it was definitely impressive. Anyone would say that. But he didn't want a fag staring at it.
To Tom's surprise, you didn't even blink. No, you were committed. And you were actually pretty entranced by the beauty of the massive slab of meat in front of you. Had dreamed of his cock and it was better than you imagined. Perfectly proportioned, all the right vascularity.... both scary and enticing. You were only thinking about what his sweaty cock must taste like after rugby practice when you heard him grunt loudly. No, sorry Tom, that wouldn't scare you. You were ready for anything.
When you didn't even flinch at Tom's obvious signal to stop staring at his hairy, manly cock, he felt the anger flood over him again. And this time, there was no stopping it. "What the FUCK are you doing?" Tom said loudly. Fuck he looked hot angry too. You were prepared for a reaction like this. In fact, you sort of hoped he would react like this. You knew he was a real man. And you wanted him to hate a fag who would perv on him like this. The next moment took every bit of courage you had. You knew after saying it there was no coming back.
"You have a really nice cock man. Why don't you let me suck it?" The face he made on hearing that. Fuck. It was pure hatred. Hatred for you. It made you tremble a bit. You could feel all his hate and anger. You know you had done it. You had gone too far. But there was no going back.
"You fucking faggot, I'm going to teach you a lesson you piece of shit," he said, with pure contempt. It made you feel weak, terrified, and like you wanted that huge cock you had just spied on to thrust into your hole as roughly as possible. You watched your obsession take off his jacket. And he quickly cracked his knuckes. And then, he came at you.
The first hit was to your gut. A big gut punch. And that doesn't even capture half of it. You didn't even know a punch could feel like that. You doubled over and fell to the ground, holding your stomach. "Fuck yeah!" he said. He was animal. You had ignited something inside of him. A feeling he sometimes feels a hint of but is always careful to stifle it. Not this time. Now with you, the fag who just creeped on him in the workplace bathroom. He was going to make you pay for that.
"Get up fag," he said, grabbing you by the hair. Through the pain, you made a yelp as he roughly grabbed your hair. Your weak body was nothing to him. He picked you up without straining. "Guess you didn't get it beaten into you in high school that you shouldn't even look at straight guys like that, huh? Let me help teach you the lesson." BOOM! His fist collided with your face. A spurt of blood shot out. He had probably just broken your nose. You screamed a bit at the pain as you flew back, crashing again on the ground. You received a swift kick to your midsection, and he said, "Shut the fuck up you little queer." Fuck, you imagined him saying things like this to you when you were dildoing your little hole, the light of your laptop displaying any picture you could find of him. And now it was real. It was all too real as pain exploded in your body.
"I'm not fucking done yet, faggot," he said. He lowered himself on top of you, straddling your pathetic weak chest. He came down hard, the air escaping your body as you wheezed. He looked down at your face. Your scared little face with blood still pouring out of your fucked up nose. Fuck. This felt good, he thought. He hadn't felt like this in a while. He could obviously hold his own in a fight, and he had gotten in more than a few of them in college. Had taught some fags a lesson before as well, but only a couple of times. Looking down at the scared, pathetic mess of homo garbage under him, he felt a fire within him that he usually had to keep down. He felt like a fucking warrior. An alpha. He wanted to fuck this faggot up. And enjoy himself in the process.
And so, he looked down at you, and you met his eyesight, and stared at him through the pain. Your god. Your angry, wrathful god. And he smiled an evil smile at you. He made a fist with his hand, and you winced involuntarily. He brought the big meaty fist to his face. You watched in awe of him, even noticing how his shirt sleeves were straining against his big biceps. But most of all, that big, manly balled up fist. He examined it himself, bringing it to his face, with the evil smile still on his face. And then he looked down at you. He slowly brought the fist to your face. Well, at least slower than a punch. His big, awesome first was right in your eyesight. And you could only stare at it. Until, at last, he said, "Kiss my fist faggot." You had to stifle a little moan. Even though the pain wracking your body, you were a true faggot. You needed that fist. You puckered your lips and gave his fist a gentle kiss, at the end, you brought his eyes back up to his. He was loving it. And you were taken by how much he was loving it.
Fuck... this is power, he thought. "I'm going to give you a souvenir," he said, as your lips left his fist. You weren't sure what he meant exactly but then you saw the big fist raising above him and you finally got the idea right as his fist exploded against your face, directly towards your right eye. The feeling was larger than life. More than you could ever imagine. So much power, so much hate behind it. You made some strange noise you had never heard yourself make directly after impact. "FUCK YEAH!" he said, almost involuntarily. Seeing that stupid fag get destroyed like this, so easily. Fuck he was powerful. He did what came natural next and spit in your stupid fag face as you recoiled in pain. And then he couldn't help himself. "Actually, going to give you two to remember this day by," he said and then his left fist connected with the left side of your face.
You were almost positive you were going to pass out. You could immediately feel your face begin to swell, but that was only a dull sensation behind the throbbing pain. Again you felt his spit hit your face. Fuck he hated you. He stood up then. You were happy because you weren't certain you couldn't even handle another punch. Then you felt his hands on your body roughly dragging you across the bathroom floor. You felt your pants rip, your faggy pink underwear exposed to him. Fuck!
And then he brought you the toilet. Fuck, he thought, haven't done this since highschool. He grabbed your hair again lifting it from the floor. Your head was a bit limp from all the abuse. He brought your head, roughly, just above the toilet water. “You ever get a swirly in high school you dumb homo?†he asked, his voice still thick with anger and adrenaline. “… no…†you said truthfully. “Well, time to make up for lost time.†And he plunged your head into the toilet. With one hand he could easily keep your head down in the water and then he kicked hard right on to your ass. Your instinct was of course to immediately lift your head out of the toilet. But you were no match for his strength. He was a different species from you. After a few kicks, still holding your head down, he delivered a couple of punches to your back and side.
By now you were, rather violently and urgently, trying to get your head out of water to at least get oxygen in your lungs, and still, you felt his big, unrelenting hand pushing you. Finally he brought your head up out of the water, you gasped for breath, and then he immediately plunged it back down again. You couldn’t see the crazy look in his eye as he did this, gritting his teeth in aggression as he forced your head down. And then he flushed the toilet. He still held you down, struggling for air until finally there was less and less water. He let go of your head completely in the middle of the flush and you urgently picked yourself out of the bowl and slid down the toilet in a panic gasping. You must have looked so stupid. Your face all busted up, wet with toilet water, gasping for air. Once you collected yourself a bit, from the bathroom floor, you looked up at him. And you saw God.
He looked hungry. He looked like... he looked like he wanted to fuck you. Fuck you or kill you. You certainly hoped it was the former, but would accept anything from your god. It wasn’t like he was a faggot, but he saw you as wounded prey. And now he wanted to completely dominate and control you. You stared up at him, and despite it all, you yourself had a look of hunger through the blood, swelling, and developing bruises on your face.
At the risk of further violence inflicted on your already damaged body, right there on the bathroom floor on your back, still wet with toilet water you had just been dunked in, you managed to spread your legs. Presenting your hole to him through your ripped pants. Sure, you still had your skimpy underwear on, but the pink color almost made them look like panties. Panties covering a pussy for a man like him to fuck.
You weren't sure exactly how he would react but from the look in his eye before, you felt it was worth the risk to see what happened. You imagined the feeling of roughly taking you on the bathroom floor. Your broken, bruised body getting invaded by his straight, angry, HUGE cock. The only thing you could think was "Conquer me! CONQUER ME!" And, a bit to your surprise, he was considering it. He was looking down at you, breathing hard, but a look of a mix of hunger and contemplation. You could tell he was holding himself back. He wanted to conquer. To rape. And you wanted him to unleash his sexual fury onto you and your hole. You knew you would be such a perfect little sex toy for him. If only he would do it. You got a desperate look on your face. You even dared to croak out, "Please..." And he almost did.
And then he heard someone coming.
"Leave here when no one's in here. Go home. Call in sick. Make up a story about how someone jumped you. I don't care, just handle it fag. Will make me happy to see you walking around with those shiners. Fuck you faggot," he said, his spit landing on you one final time. He then shut the stall on you. You heard the door open, and could see him putting back on his jacket from under the stall. He briefly greeted the man coming in, who went straight to the urinals. He washed his hands and left the bathroom like nothing happened.
You weren't about to tell anyone what he did. You didn't want to mess up his perfect life with the wife and kids. You just wanted to be an outlet for his anger. And mission accomplished. You would listen to what he said and do it. Because he was your god. And this would be excellent masturbating fodder for the weekend and beyond.