What I'm About

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Portland, Maine, United States
I'm a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a tortilla, deep fried to a golden crisp and smothered in sour cream and salsa. After the relatively short amount of years of living on this planet, only now do I feel like I have anything marginally interesting to say about anything. I hope to be able to write funny things for the most part, but don't be surprised if occasionally there appears some weird erotic fiction or a long-winded, philosophical monologue about the meaning of life. It just all depends on how I'm feeling on any given day. One this is for sure though, there will be cute pictures (and in all likelihood, videos) of bunnies and cats from time to time. So you've officially been warned...

Sunday, August 31, 2014

I Shot the Sheriff

     It was the fourth day of filming for Dean, and he was already exhausted. He had no idea how grueling it would be to have to shoot the same scenes over and over again, repeating the same lines and trying to do everything that the director asked of him. It was so different than the type of off-the-cuff dialogue he was used to spouting at a moment's notice, but as he walked back to his trailer during a break, he felt somewhat relieved to be able to just be himself, even if only for a short while. 
     Dean flung the door open and crumpled onto the carpeted floor, sprawling out and exhaling a big sigh. The air-conditioning was on full blast, and the cold air felt so good in comparison to the oppressive heat outside. He rolled over onto his back and began to unbutton the shirt of the police uniform he was wearing, then flipped it open, exposing his bare chest. "Ahh yeah, that's fucking good," he said aloud to no one in particular, his finger tracing a wet line down through the sweat that had collected between his pecs.
     "Sure is," said a voice that was clearly in the trailer with him. Dean knew who the voice belonged to without even having to look, but that knowledge did nothing to put him at ease. He opened his eyes in time to see Seth moving over him, a cold smile on his face as he crouched down to get closer. 
     "Wha- what the hell- how did you-" Dean started to ask, but before he could get the words out, Seth was on top of him, grabbing his hands and pulling them up over his head. He felt cold metal against his wrists and then the metallic ratcheting sound of handcuffs tightening, and then suddenly Seth sprung back up onto his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean asked, looking up to see that he was now handcuffed around the leg of the table, which was bolted to the floor. 
     Seth laughed, a dry chuckle tinged with bitterness that sent a chill up Dean's spine. "What am I doing? What am I doing??" he spat, his thin voice becoming raspier as his emotions ramped up. He kicked Dean in the ribs as he stood over him, glaring down at his captive prey. "I'm here to get what I've got coming to me. What I deserve," he answered, his eyes traveling from Dean's face to his naked chest. "And this time, you're not gonna stop me."
     "Oh yeah?" Dean replied, voice strained from the impact to his side. "Well I can't exactly kick your ass again if I'm handcuffed, you idiot. I mean, that's what you truly deserve, isn't it?" He grinned, obviously proud of his quick wit. 
     Seth's eyes glinted menacingly as his lips pulled into a tight smirk. He crouched down again and slapped Dean across the face, leaving a pink handprint blooming in its wake. "God, I'm so sick of your fucking mouth. It's about time somebody did this to you...and frankly, I'm tired of waiting for just the right time," he said, running his index finger down the other's chest and hooking it in the front of his uniform pants. He popped the button and unzipped him, his smile growing as Dean began to struggle against the restraints. "Go ahead...waste all your energy trying to escape. It'll just make it easier for me."
     "Make WHAT easier?!" Dean responded, blue eyes going wide and panic rising up into his throat as he pulled against the table leg, cuffs digging into his wrists. "What the hell are you planning on doing, you fucker? Let me go!" He kicked at his assailant, trying to lock him between his legs, but Seth easily dodged his attempts. 
     "Funny you should call me a fucker, because that's exactly why I'm here," the dark-haired man replied, climbing astride him and sitting on top of his thighs, pinning him down. Fingers gripped at the other man's pants and yanked on them, pulling them down along with his underwear. "This is what happens when you refuse to let me top and then leave me hanging while you go off to be a movie star," he explained, moving back as he continued to pull Dean's pants down and off his legs. Once he had them removed completely, he sat back down on top of the blonde's crotch, making sure to press his ass firmly against it. "Now I'm just gonna take what I want, since you can't do anything about it."
     Dean scoffed, still not taking him seriously. "If you wanted my dick that bad, you could've just told me, you fucking slut." He pushed his hips up to emphasize his point, his cock starting to harden from the friction. "I would've given it to you, no problem."
     Seth let go with another, harder slap, this time hitting Dean on the opposite cheek. "Shut up...just SHUT. UP." he ordered, voice raising in anger and frustration. His hands were shaking as he began to undo his own pants, and when he looked back up, he noticed that Dean was bleeding from the mouth. "Aww, did the poor baby bite his tongue? he asked sarcastically.
     Dean turned his head and hocked a glob of bloody spit, then smiled, his teeth streaked with red. "What, you think a little blood is gonna scare me? Come on, I thought you knew me better than that."
     Seth suddenly stopped his actions and answered, "Yeah...I thought I knew you pretty well. I thought our relationship was based on a mutual give-and-take thing...but apparently it's more of a you-always-give-and-I-always-take kind of arrangement. And to be honest, I'm not okay with that. So I'm here to get what's owed to me, and you can either lay there and like it, or lay there and hate it. But either way, you're gonna lay there and take it, understand?" he growled, pulling out his dick and moving forward on his knees. 
     "Open that mouth and keep it open. Lemme see that bloody tongue," he commanded, gripping Dean on either side of his mouth, squeezing until the other's lips parted, then jammed two fingers into the open orifice. Instantly, Dean bit down on them, his incisors puncturing the skin and causing Seth to yelp in pain. Instead of pulling back, he forced his fingers in further, hitting Dean's gag reflex and making him retch involuntarily. "You seem to forget just how much pain I can withstand, Ambrose. You think I can't handle a little love bite? Puh-lease."
     Seth finally pulled his hand away and lapped at the blood that was now trickling down the backs of his knuckles. "Fuck you," Dean growled, then cleared his throat and launched another gob of stringy spittle directly onto Seth's shirt. "You think you're really gonna be able to get away with this? Do you have any idea how many people are gonna come looking for me if I don't show back up on set soon? 
     Another dry laugh came from Seth as he stripped off his t-shirt and began balling it up into a wad. "Do you have any idea how hard I'm gonna be laughing when they bust in here and find you like this? Oh, that's right, you won't know because I'll be long gone by then. Guess you'll have to explain what happened yourself, won't you?" he said with an evil grin, then suddenly stuffed his t-shirt into Dean's open mouth, effectively silencing him. 
     Dean's eyes were wide with fear as the realization of his current situation washed over him. It was pretty clear to him what Seth intended to do, and now that he was gagged and bound, there was little Dean was going to be able to do to stop it. He yelled and screamed, but his efforts were stifled by the cotton that filled his mouth. He tried again to break free from the cuffs, but all it did was cause them to cut into the delicate skin of his wrists, angry red welts raising up as he struggled. 
     "You're so fucking pathetic," Seth commented as he observed, sliding his blood-covered hand slowly up and down the length of his hard cock. "You've been doing this shit to me on the regular for the last two years, and never once did you give a shit whether I wanted it or not. And now that I've come to turn the tables, you act like a scared little bitch at the thought of having to take my place. Well, forgive me if I'm not all that sympathetic, but you've had this coming for a while, and now you're gonna see exactly what you put me through. Every bit of it," he chided, working his way closer and smacking Dean's face all over with his dick, leaving bloody splat marks to stake his claim. He sat back and grinned at his handiwork, purposely avoiding the other's gaze. "I'm gonna enjoy this," he added, swiping up some of the blood from his hand onto his fingertip and using it to write the word "BITCH" in bright red letters on Dean's forehead.
     As the finger traced something unknown on his face, Dean fussed even more, tossing his head from side to side to try to escape it, but it was of no use. He stared daggers at the two-toned man, daring him to lock eyes, but he wouldn't give in. He began to wonder how long he had until someone would come looking for him, but he certainly didn't want to be discovered in this predicament. His only hope at that point was to try to appease Seth in the hopes that he might release him before disappearing. 
     Seth reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small bottle of lube, the smug grin still on his face. He hopped back, grabbed Dean behind the knees and hoisted his legs up, centering himself between them. "Well well well, what do we have here?" he questioned as he stared down at Dean's undeniable erection. "Looks like somebody likes this a little more than he's letting on." His eyes traveled up and finally met with the other's, noticing that the opposing gaze was a bit softer than before. "Oh, of course you're ok with it now that you don't have a choice. Typical," he griped, squirting the slippery liquid onto his fingers. 
     Many conflicting thoughts raced through Dean's mind as he waited for the inevitable. He wondered if it was going to hurt- if Seth was going to tear him up just like Dean had done to him so many times in the past, but when he felt fingers pressing insistently at his entrance, he noticed that Seth was being careful to spread the lube evenly, only allowing his fingers to probe at the sticky hole once it was completely slick. Somehow this small act of kindness put Dean slightly more at ease, and he decided then that if this was going to happen, he was going to try to experience things from the other's point of view as much as possible. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back and rest on the floor, his body going slack. He couldn't talk, but his body language communicated his compliance.
     "Good boy. What a good little bitch you are," Seth cooed as he sank his fingers firmly into Dean's backside, testing its grip. "Ooh, God, you're so tight. That's gonna feel fucking incredible squeezing around my dick," he groaned, watching Dean break into a sweat. "I think I'm gonna find out right now."
     Gripping his rod, Seth rubbed the head of his cock up and down the blonde's crack a few times and then pushed in hard, expecting Dean to resist being penetrated. Instead, he found himself plunging in up to the hilt, the intense heat overwhelming him. Dean cried out from behind the impromptu gag, his muffled moans humiliatingly quiet through the dampening material. He looked up and saw Seth, sweat dripping down his face as he struggled to contain himself. "Fuck, I should have done this a long time ago," he said as he pulled out halfway and slammed in again, harder this time. 
     Dean's head was spinning, the forcible entry terrifying and exciting him at the the same time. He remembered all the times he had told Seth to just relax and take it, and tried to take his own advice. He let out a deep breath, willing himself to loosen up, but his virgin ass was unaccustomed to such treatment. Seth's cock felt like it was twice as big as he knew it to be as it slid in and out, slowly at first, then increasing in speed. The heat seemed to spread rapidly throughout his body, leaving him panting and sweating profusely. His head fell back and hit the floor again, banging off the hard surface as he squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. 
     Seth saw it and smiled. "You little fucking slut...you like this, don't you?" He pushed Dean's knees up to his chest and held them there, giving him several more hard thrusts. Dean moaned loudly, but that was about all he could do with the gag in his mouth. "Alright, fine," Seth replied begrudgingly, yanking the shirt out and throwing it somewhere behind him. "Now, tell me. You know what I want to hear."
     Dean attempted to speak, his mouth bone-dry from the gag. "Y- yeah....God I fucking hate you," he rasped, licking his lips in an attempt to get some moisture going again. 
     "Wrong answer, bitch," Seth snarled, altering his position just enough to hit deeper. He leaned his weight against the back of Dean's thighs and began to fuck him relentlessly, ignoring the pleas and cries coming from his captive slut. Before long he was moaning along with Dean, eyes closed as waves of tingling pleasure rolled through him. "That's okay though," he huffed, "I kinda like you feisty. C'mon, tighten that ass up. I want you to wring the cum out of this dick with that fucking hole." He pulled his arm back and delivered a hard smack to the blonde's ass cheek, following it up with a gripping squeeze to the taut flesh.
     Predictably, Dean hollered and squirmed, his hot tunnel clenching the invading member as his moans turned from tortured to unbelievably turned on. He wondered if Seth was going to let him come or not and immediately began pleading for him to do something with his dripping hard-on. "Fine, I'll squeeze the fuck out of your cock, but you gotta help me out here," he groaned, looking down at himself. "Please?"
     Seth slowed his thrusting for a moment, running a hand through his sweaty hair and assessing the twitching unit in front of him. "Aww, what's the matter, bitch? You can't come from just getting fucked? What's wrong with you?" He answered coldly. "Man, you're a terrible bottom. You need lots of practice to ever hold a candle to me, you know that?" He landed another smack to Dean's ass, reigniting his struggle, then spread his legs further apart, still keeping them pressed back against his chest. "You don't fucking deserve to come, not by a longshot...but I really want to dump my load into you while you're screaming and crying and convulsing around me, so it's your lucky day."
     He reached down and slapped Dean's overexcited dick hard with an open palm, resuming his thrusting. "Come on, you better hurry up, I'm really fucking close," Seth grunted, slapping it again and again, the force making it bounce off Dean's stomach each time. In response, Dean whined and moaned, lifting his hips to try to gain more sustained contact, but Seth kept up with the quick, hard slaps, refusing to give him what he wanted. "Come ON, Ambrose, let it go....NOW!!" he shouted suddenly, driving himself in as far as he could go and holding it there, delivering a series of smacks to the other's reddening cock.
     Right on cue, Dean let out a piercing "FUUUCCKKKK" and exploded, his orgasm forcefully ripping through his body as his cock released a copious amount of sticky cream all over his stomach. Seth watched in awe as he continued to pump, feeling all the sensation welling up within him as Dean's contracting hole began to milk him deliciously."Yeaahhhh, that's it....fuck, I'm gonna unload so fucking hard...oh God-" he keened, his words trailing off as he went over the edge. He closed his eyes and shot off, draining himself of all the tension that had been building up since Dean had left and filling the writhing channel with his hot load. 
     Once they were both depleted, Seth dropped Dean's legs and leaned forward, resting his head on the reddish thatch of chest hair as he caught his breath. Dean was also busy trying to get his wind back, but a small smile flashed across his mouth when he noticed. He would have embraced the younger man, but he still had no use of his arms. "Uh, hey...you wouldn't want to, say....unlock these before you ninja vanish again, would you?" Dean tried to ask nicely, eyebrows raised in a subtle plea for mercy.
     Seth lifted his head up, a menacing grin stretching across his face. "Oh, come on, I'm not going to make it that easy for you. I mean, sure, I guess I don't want you to get kicked off the set of your own movie for being a pervert, but I also don't want to go too easy on you. After all, you don't go easy on me, do you?" He stood up and wiped himself off with his own bloody t-shirt, then zipped back up and laid the shirt out neatly over Dean's chest. He dug into his jeans pocket and fished out a set of small keys, jingling them over Dean's prone body as he chuckled unapologetically. "Here you go...have fun unlocking yourself, officer," he said, letting them drop onto Dean's chest on top of the soiled shirt. "Not so un-fuck-with-able now, are you?" He taunted, reading the slogan that now covered his ravaged fuck toy.
     Dean sighed wearily, eyes closing as he tried to think of a retort. When he opened them again, Seth was gone, the door of the trailer ever-so-slightly ajar. For a second he thought about yelling for help, but quickly realized that was a stupid idea. He looked down at the keys that were tantalizingly close, yet oh so far away, and frowned. "That's my Sethie," he mumbled adoringly as he began the arduous process of trying to somehow reach them. "I taught that little fucker really well."
     

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