The Mentor by Boomjum (17 Pages) (Patreon)

The Mentor!

By BoomJum

© 2019-2020 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to ​Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

***DEVIN DICKIE NOTE***

All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real.  The acts in the following written work are only consensual  sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.

Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities. 

THE MENTOR

By Boojum

I was one of the first passengers to exit the bus, early autumn morning. It was chilly, and I hadn’t gotten much sleep on the overnight bus ride. But I was full of optimism as I looked around. Things were going to be different, now. I wouldn’t be a sissy victim any more. 

It wasn’t my fault that I took after my mother’s family. They were all on the short and skinny side, but even in comparison to them I was short and skinny. In addition I am very pale skinned, and I have almost no body hair.  Even my pubes were so sparse, and translucent as to be barely visible. So people could be excused for thinking that I am prepubescent, even at age 19. 

I was the smallest boy in my class, and I was bullied constantly, and called names. ‘Faggot’ and ‘sissy’ had been the most common. I’d been an object of ridicule even before that fateful day in third grade. One morning, at school assembly, in front of the entire school, one of the bullies in my class had yanked my trousers down. I’d been Sammy Underpants since that day, even after we graduated. 

Fresh outta high school, I’d applied by email to a job opening I’d seen online, and been accepted. The pay was low, but it was far from the small town where I’d grown up. I could start fresh, have an opportunity to be someone else. 

My first stop was at the B&B, where I’d booked a room. My heart sank when I saw the dingy, tiny little room, with the narrow, monastic bed. It sank even further when I saw the communal toilets and kitchen. But it was affordable, and I consoled myself with the thought that it was temporary. In a few weeks, I’m sure I’ll be able to move somewhere better. 

Next stop was my new job. I ran my hand over my face, considering if I needed a shave first. The bit of peach fuzz on my face barely warranted a shave, but it was my first day on the job, and I wanted to make a good impression. 

Finally, freshly shaved and showered, wearing my best Sunday blazer and tie, I presented myself at the office of Primo Imports & Exports, to start my new career. 

The morning started off with a whirl of forms and interviews. But a couple of hours later, I was ushered into a large, luxurious looking office, where a dark skinned man was sitting with his back to the door, talking and laughing on the phone. 

“This is Mr DuPlessis,” said the secretary, who had shown me in. “He’ll be your mentor.”

As she said this, the man put down the phone, swiveled to face me, and stood up. 

He was one of the tallest, and handsomest men I’d ever seen. His black hair had some grey at the temples, and his neat beard also had a few strands of grey. He was very broad shouldered and large, yet he moved with the speed and grace of an athlete, as he came around the desk, hand extended. He smiled, his teeth looking very white against the dark skin of his face. 

“Jules Du Plessis,” his voice was deep, and almost melodious. 

I looked into his dark brown eyes, and felt the heat of my blush rising up my neck and across my face. His masculinity was like a bright light, blinding me. I was forced to look away. 

“Er…“ suddenly my collar felt a few sizes too small. I could barely draw breath.

“S-Sammy- er Sam Vernon, at your service…” my voice trailed off, as I ran out of air, and took a huge gulp. 

“Pleased to meet you, son,” he said, taking my outstretched hand. 

He held my hand firmly but gently, as he pumped it up and down a couple of times. His touch seemed to send  electric shocks through my body, and I snatched my hand away the second he released it. I’d never felt this way towards a man before, and I didn’t understand why it was happening. 

Mr DuPlessis turned out to be a good mentor, tough but very patient. He was very friendly, and treated me in a paternal manner, putting me at my ease. 

At the end of the day, Mr DuPlessis came to my desk. 

“I’m leaving now,” he said, “Can I give you a ride? Where are you staying? ”

“Thanks,” I replied, and gave him the address of my B&B. 

“Really?” he said. “That’s where you’re staying?”

I nodded. 

“No you’re not. Not anymore. You’re staying with me.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t.”

“I insist,” he tells me. “It’s just for a few days, until you find something else. Why not? ”

Why not? I think to myself.  Because I totally have a crush on you, and I don’t want you to know. 

But I dare not say that out loud. 

“Won’t your wife object?” I ask, in a last ditch attempt. 

“I’m a widower,” he says quietly. “My wife died a couple of years ago. And we never had kids. So it’s just me in that big old house.”

So, that settled that. 

Mr DuPlessis drove quite aggressively, weaving in between the slower cars. We reached the B&B in no time, and he waited in the car while I got my things and checked out. 

An hour later, we pull into the driveway of a large house, at the end of a quiet street. The house is surrounded by a large, well kept garden. 

Mr DuPlessis shows me to a room on the second floor. It is huge, compared to the B&B, and much more luxurious. A queen sized bed dominated the room. To the one side is a toilet and bathroom. 

“Make yourself at home,” Mr DuPlessis tells me, and leaves. I unpack,  and then decide to take a shower. 

I’ve undressed down to my white boxer briefs when the door is flung open, and Mr DuPlessis strolls in, wearing a bathrobe, cinched around his waist. 

“The shower in my room is on the fritz,” he says. We’ll have to share for tonight. You don’t mind, do you.” 

It’s a statement, not a question. He removes the robe, and I stare at him, in envy and awe. 

I’ve never seen another man naked before. At school I always waited till everyone had left the change room before taking my shower. And at home, I never saw my dad naked. Now I stand there, mouth hanging open, as I admire his perfect body, feeling a wave of arousal course through me.

My first thought, as I see his large black cock, is “My God, that thing is h-u-g-e”. I can barely drag my eyes away from it. My eyes travel over his six pack abs, his muscular thighs. I see his  large biceps flexing as he moves his arms. I take note of his nipples, almost purple against the black of his deep, muscular chest. I can’t take my eyes off him, and yet looking at him makes me feel so aroused that it leaves me breathless. It’s like staring at the sun, and I have to look away. I pray that he doesn’t notice me gawking at him. 

“Come join me,” he says. “There’s plenty of room.”

It sounds more like a command than an invitation, and I find that despite my embarrassment I dare not refuse. I remove my underpants, and join Mr DuPlessis in the shower. I try my best to avert my eyes from his body, concentrating on something, anything else. Praying that he won’t notice that I’m getting a boner. 

“Damn, boy,” he laughs, looking me over, “I’d call you a 90 pound weakling, but I doubt if you even weigh 90 pounds.” 

I blush, and turn away, my semi erection shriveling with humiliation. But Mr DuPlessis catches my shoulder, turning me back to him. 

“Do you have some sort of hormonal problem?” he asks. “You look like a little boy.”

“No,” I mumble. 

Suddenly I feel as if I’m thirteen all over again, being hazed by the boys in my school. 

When Mr DuPlessis has finished, he exits the shower. With his back to me, it is easier for me to admire his broad, muscular back, and his round firm ass. He puts his robe back on, without drying off. 

“Come on down when you’re ready,” he says.”we’ll have dinner.”

I take my time drying off and dressing, while I think about what I just saw. I have to admit I am envious. I never thought of cocks before, and considered to be pretty standard. But after seeing his magnificent cock up close, I realize that my own cock is puny in comparison. 

When I come down, Mr DuPlessis is still wearing his robe. He offers me wine with dinner. I’ve never been a drinker, but I’d like him to think of me as more mature. So I have a few glasses of wine. 

After dinner, Mr DuPlessis smokes a cigar, and we drink some more wine. And maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s because Mr DuPlessis listens so solicitously. Or maybe the combination. I find myself opening up, and talking about being teased and bullied as a child. And about my relationship with my parents, who never seemed to care very much about anything I told them. 

When I finally fall silent, Me DuPlessis looks at me in silence. Finally he says

“Wow.”

Then, after a few seconds,

“Wow. You really are the ultimate sissy boy, aren’t you.”

“Er, what-?” I ask, kind of confused. 

“I got you. From the first moment you walked into my office. Even before you were gawking at me like a virgin in a whorehouse. Even before you were drooling over my cock. You’re a sissy slave. Your purpose in life is to worship big black cocks.”

“No! I’m not- I wasn’t-“ I start. 

Mr DuPlessis takes a puff of his cigar, puts it in an ashtray. Then he leans forward, and slaps me hard. I recoil, in a mixture of shock and pain. 

“You call me Sir. And you keep your mouth shut, unless I  ask you a question, or open my trousers. Understood?”

“I- I don’t-“ I begin. But Mr DuPlessis slaps me even harder. 

“Understood?!” he shouts. 

He sounds so menacing that I recoil. 

“Y-yeah,” I say. And then, hurriedly, “Yes Sir,” as he leans forward again. 

“Better,” he says. Now get naked.”

I want to scream at him, I want to get up and leave. But instead I mumble “Yes Sir,” as I stand and undress. Finally I am naked in front of him, shoulders hunched, covering my crotch with my hands. 

“Stand up straight,” he commands. “Hands behind your back.”

I comply, reluctantly, revealing my semi erect cock, which comes to full attention as I stand there. Mr DuPlessis snorts, as he looks me over. 

“What a sorry excuse for a dick. Are you sure you’re a boy?” he asks. 

I blush and hang my head in humiliation. 

“Yes Sir. Sorry Sir,” is all I say. 

Mr DuPlessis makes me turn around and bend over, while he inspects my ass, giving me a couple of slaps in the process. 

“From now on, you’ll wear only what I allow you to wear,” he tells me. “Now get down here.”

He sits on the couch, muscular legs spread wide, motioning me to come closer. I kneel in front of him. 

“Suck my cock,” he commands. 

Mr DuPlessis unties the belt of his robe, and throws it open.

“I’ve never-“ I start, but he hits me in the stomach, hard. I collapse on the floor writhing in agony, while he smokes his cigar, and waits. 

Finally I sit up. 

“Will you be a good little pussymouth this time? Or will you need more persuasion?” he asks. 

“No Sir. I will obey you, Sir. Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper. 

I look at his huge cock, bobbing in front of me. It is long and straight and thick, with a huge, mushroom shaped glans. It is darker than his regular skin tone.  His pubic hair is trimmed, and huge balls hang loosely between his legs.

Mr DuPlessis grabs my hair, and uses it to pull my face down onto his crotch. 

“We’ll start off simple, then. Lick my cock,” he commands.

I don’t want to do it, and I try to pull away. But Mr DuPlessis holds my head against his crotch, and I cannot escape. Feeling humiliated, I put my tongue out, and lick it. His crotch smells musky and masculine. I find that I like the smell. Against my will, I feel my cock getting hard. I run my tongue all over his cock, and balls. It isn’t so bad, I think to myself. 

Still holding my hair, he pulls my face up, and pushes his cock into my mouth. I struggle to open my mouth enough to accommodate his huge phallus. But he pushes hard, and I feel it sliding in. 

“Mind your teeth,” he warns. 

I suck his cock, taking it as deep as I can without choking. He keeps pushing it deeper, and every now and then I gag. I can feel his cock in my throat, blocking my windpipe. I try to time my breathing to his thrusts, but as he pushes his cock deeper and deeper, I begin to run out of oxygen. I struggle and push at him, until finally he releases me, and I pant in huge gulps of air.

But Mr DuPlessis doesn’t allow me more than a few seconds of rest. Still holding my hair, he pushes my head down onto his cock. It goes in further, and he grunts in satisfaction as his cock goes into my throat. I gag and choke, struggling to get free. But he keeps fucking my throat mercilessly. My vision is going black at the edges when he suddenly releases my head. I fall on my side, coughing and retching. 

Mr DuPlessis pulls me up, and throws me on the sofa, face down. As I try to get up, he drops his full weight on top of me, pinning me down. I can feel his huge cock pressed against my ass. His hand reaches down between our bodies, and I feel him guiding the head of his cock to my asshole. 

“Please,” I gasp, “I’ve never-“ but I get no further. 

His cock penetrates my ass, and for a second I think I will pass out from the pain. My pleading becomes a screech of pain. I struggle, trying to get away, but he has me pinned down, in a wrestling hold (I can almost hear Coach Reynolds saying “Good! Good! A half-Nelson. Go for it”). 

It's only for a minute or two, although it seems longer. Mr DuPlessis has mercy on me, and  withdraws his cock. He sits up, legs wide open.  I half turn, and look at him.  His erect cock twitches slightly. The tip and part of the shaft are wet from my ass juice. I am surprised how much he got in. 

“Sit on it!” he commands. 

“I can’t “ I am on the verge of tears. “It’s too big. Please.”

“There’s no such thing as cant,” Mr DuPlessis says. “There’s only won’t. And won’t is not acceptable. Now come here.”

He grabs my hair, and drags me towards him. I whimper in fear and pain.

“But first, suck it a bit. Put plenty of spit. It’ll be easier for you.”

He pulls my head down, and I suck his cock as I sob. I can taste my ass on his cock, but still sucking his cock is better than being raped by it. But it doesn’t last for long. Mr DuPlessis pulls me up, and despite my struggles, pulls me to sit on his lap, impaling me on his cock. It hurts, and I struggle and cry out. But surprisingly, it isn’t as bad as before. He holds me in position, until my whimpers die off. 

I look down, and see his thick, dark, hairy, masculine thighs between my boyish, pale, hairless  thighs, and I begin to feel aroused. I put my hand between my legs, and feel his huge scrotum pressed against my ass. I realize that I have taken his entire cock in my ass, and I feel a mixture of pride and horny desire. My own tiny erection is hard and raging against my belly. I flex my sphincter, and feel it distended and full of his cock.

“Ohhh yeah! You little whore!” Mr DuPlessis gasps. “You like that, don’t you, you sissy whore.”

I am almost surprised to find that I do. 

“Yes, Sir,” I say. “I love it.”

After fucking me this way for a while, Mr DuPlessis stands up, and makes me kneel on the couch, head down. He fucks me hard  in this position, and my body gets flung against the couch with each thrust. The he withdraws his cock, grabs my hair, and pulls my head towards his cock. My mouth opens automatically, as his cock gets near, and he fucks my throat until I’m choking and gasping. Then he pulls it out of my mouth. 

A thread of thick saliva from my throat still connects his cock to my lips. It thins and snaps, as he throws me face down on the sofa and mounts me. His cock slides into my ass, and he moans with pleasure, pushing my face into a cushion, to muffle my groans. 

Finally I hear his breathing quicken, and he thrusts his cock into my ass harder and faster. Then, with a roar, he climaxes.  I feel his cock pulsing inside my asshole, as he ejaculates. Then he collapses on top of me, breathing hard. As his cock detumesces, it slips out of my ass, and I feel my asshole twinge. I’m both relieved and disappointed that the fuck ended. 

After a couple of minutes, Mr DuPlessis sits up. I half turn, and look at him. He looms over me, his perfectly formed black body covered with a sheen of sweat. I feel small, and insignificant in comparison. His huge cock is still semi erect, jutting out, and still wet from my ass. I can’t believe that I have had that huge cock all the way inside me. My own little cock twitches with desire. 

“Let’s put you to bed, sissy,” Mr DuPlessis says. 

Too worn out physically and emotionally, I am unable to resist. I allow Mr DuPlessis to take me upstairs, where he locks a chain around my neck, and connects it to a bolt in the wall. The chain is long enough for me to move around, even go to the toilet. But I can’t reach the door. 

I spend the night, and the next  day chained in the room, trying every option to escape. But it is no use. I cannot get free of the chain. 

I have a lot of time to think about what happened. Every time I relive the feeling of being impaled on his cock, I find my own cock getting hard. I think of the way his erect cock looked, covered in semen as he pulled it out of my ass. And I have to admit that he is a splendid alpha male, with a cock worthy of such a man. 

In the evening, Mr DuPlessis comes into the room, and throws something on the bed. 

“Wear this tonight,” he says. “I’m having friends over for poker night.”

It is a skimpy little chambermaid’s uniform. Black with white ribbons, and lots of flounces and bows. Long, black fishnet leggings all the way up my thighs, and stiletto high heeled shoes. When I put it all on, I feel humiliated and slutty. But to my surprise, my cock is hard as a rock. 

Mr DuPlessis takes me down to the basement, where he has shelves filled with dildos, leather straps and other equipment that I cannot fathom. There is some… gym equipment? I can’t see how it is used. He leads me to a metal and leather contraption. I struggle and resist, but he punches me hard in the stomach. While I wheeze and squirm, he lays me over the contraption, legs spread, and ties them with leather straps to the metal. Then he ties my hands in a similar manner. It’s so high my feet don’t touch the floor. Or maybe it’s because I’m so small. 

Mr DuPlessis leaves me there, spreadeagled and tied over a piece of equipment, my feet dangling in the air. 

I remain in that position, in the basement, for over an hour,  listening while his friends arrive, and they all sit and play poker, with much raucous laughter and shouting. 

Finally seven men, all large and dark skinned like Mr DuPlessis, troop into the room, and stand around me, making crude and insulting remarks. They all seem a bit drunk. One of them lifts my skirt, and they all laugh when they see my bare ass and erect cock. 

One of the men stops in front of me, opening his trousers. 

“Look at this,” he says. “This is a man’s cock. Not a puny little white worm like you’ve got. You’re going to take care of it for me.”

He fondles his cock, stroking it and making sure I can see it. His cock is not as long as Mr DuPlessis’s cock, but it is much thicker. My heart quails at the thought of what it will do to my ass. 

He grabs my hair, and uses it to hold my head in place as his cock presses against my lips, but I refuse to open my mouth. Mr DuPlessis takes one of the leather straps, and hits me across my ass, several times, very hard. As I gasp and wince in pain, the man pushes his cock into my mouth. His crotch smells of a mixture of musky masculinity and sweat, as he fucks my mouth. The thought of his sweaty, dirty cock in my mouth disgusts me. But as I suck it I realize that I am enjoying the taste. I can’t take it very deep, as it is too thick, and it hurts as it butts against the opening of my throat. I choke and gag, and the men laugh. 

After a few minutes, he pulls his cock out of my mouth, covered in thick saliva from my throat. I am panting and gasping, eyes streaming with tears, as the man moves behind me. He shoves his cock into my ass hard, opening my poor asshole more than it has ever been opened. The pain is intense, and I gasp and cry out. I struggle to get away, arms and legs flailing wildly. But I am tied too well, and I can barely move. I hang there, crying, as his cock reams my ass. 

Another man stands in front of me, and tries to shove his cock into my throat. I resist, but he pinches my nose, forcing me to open my mouth. He holds me by the throat, as his cock goes in and out.

“Ohhhh man, what a cunt,” he moans, as he fucks my throat. “Sissy white boy got a mouth like a cunt.”

He speeds up, and ejaculates without warning, shooting his load straight into my throat. He withdraws his cock, leaving me coughing and gasping, but I have only scant seconds to recover before another cock is trying to slide between my lips. 

I lie there, dangling in the air, helpless to resist, as I am fucked in both holes by huge black cocks. Each man tries to outdo the other in the ferocity of his fucking. I’ve lost count of the number of times my holes were raped, I know that each man has used my holes more than once. 

Hours go by, until eventually they have all left. I am alone with Mr DuPlessis. He unties me, and I fall to the floor, too weak to stand. He half carries me up to the bedroom, where he chains me and leaves me. 

The next morning I feel stiff and sore. My entire body aches, I can feel liquid seeping out of my ass. I gently probe my asshole, which feels tender, and more open than it should. When I look at my fingers, they are covered with a slimy, sticky liquid. It is the cum of all the guys who fucked me. I lie in bed, thinking about what happened. 

As I relive the experience of being gang banged by a group of huge black men, I realize that thinking about it has made my cock hard. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I wanted it to happen. I know that Mr. DuPlessis hasn’t finished with me. When I think about getting fucked again, in both my holes, my cock gets even harder. I remember what Mr DuPlessis told me: it is my main function in life to serve black cocks. And I realize that he is right. 

I am a sissy slave boy, after all.