(note: please be sure to read the REVISED versions of parts 3 and 4 before reading this)
Ulp!
Man, I was REALLY _f_u_c_k_ed NOW..........!
Yes, having allowed myself to get totally under the control of my rabid right wing neighbor, Dan, I realized that I was in all senses _f_u_c_k_ED!
My former colleague, Ray Steiner, had found himself at LEAST as _f_u_c_k_ED under Dans power. Even the piss of 200 men washes off, and Ray probably could have eventually coped with that indignity, but what drove him to leave town in shame was the losing partys campaign managers vengeful campaign on his ASS—spanking him bare assed like a bad little boy and then roughly cornholing him!
As Dan proceeded with MY political stripping down, however, he knew I HAD no shame when it came to butt_f_u_c_k_ing. So the ideological ass ramming had to come first, until he could impregnate me with a fledgling right wing sensibility, which he figured an overly sensitive wuss like myself would be compelled to nurture to full strength. And by THAT time, Dan quipped to himself, a second Busch administration would have seen to it that abortion would be made illegal!
Thats right, boys. It would be another two months before I REALLY got completely _f_u_c_k_ed by Dan the Man---two agonizing months of several sessions a week getting _c_o_c_k_teased with Dans leaky prickhead working itself around my ass pucker like the ball of a roll on deodorant bottle in an armpit. He even jacked me to keep me on edge and at attention (since I couldnt reach my own dick) but almost always stopped me short of cumming.
They call it classical conditioning. An intelligent creature is rewarded with something it craves every time it gives the desired response to a controlled situation. Conversely, if the creature gives an undesired response, the reward is withheld and sometimes even a punishment is administered.
"Okay, again, Stroker," said Dan. "Who are you voting for for Prezident?"
"Uh, ummmmmm!" I stalled, as my natural feeling of repellence towards the awful politicians name battled the lust burning in my loins from the insistent penile pressing against my tight hairy ring. "G-G-Giorge........" I stammered, "B-B-Buschhhh ohhhhhh!" Whenever I managed to spit out the name, Dans Dickhead began to breach my hot hole. But no sooner than I relaxed to let the _f_u_c_k_er inside then he withdrew.
"Say it again. LOUDER! And in a complete sentence!" he ordered, with the firmness and discipline of a Notsee general. I could have never kept my own dick that hard for that long without release. Dan had an amazing and complete control over his body that I couldnt help but admire even as I whined in _s_e_x_ual frustration from it.
"I, Alan Stroker, am voting for Giorge Busch for president!" I spat, almost tasting the bitterness of those nasty sounding words. But oh god, how wonderful it felt to have Dans dickhead pressing at my backdoor again, his hot tongue in my ear, his chin stubble on my neck and his warm fist around my throbbing _c_o_c_k_.
"But youre registered as a Demokrat," Dan whispered. "Whats the right thing to do to remedy that inconsistency?"
"Um, register......as....as .....an independent.." I attempted. Dan hissed, grabbed my balls and gave them a firm squeeze.
"OW!!!! Uh, I meant REPUBLIKAN, I meant REPUBLIKAN!" I hastily submitted to his correction.
This is how it always began at every session I had at Dans throughout September and October. The lessons were HARD as hell, but didnt seem to stick from day to day, so we had to go over and over them. The routine went like this: in early evening, Dan would step out to his driveway and dribble the basketball. I, already dressed for sport, would rush around the two street corners to join Dan for basket shooting. On good days. Wed work up a sweat quickly and Dan would agree for us to go inside for beers and buttwork.
On bad days some of the tall black neighborhood kids would come for a quick game and I had to endure the humiliation and ridicule of being the whitest, lamest hoopsman ever born until the boys tired and left Dan and I to proceed with the business of my political and emotional makeover. The spanking and the chains continued to be a part of the ritual, even though Dan knew he had me in his control by sheer lust for his _c_o_c_k_.
The turning point for permanently learning my first and hardest lesson –the Busch loyalty question--came one evening when Dan excitedly put on a video tape sent to him by the konservative think tank that regularly paid him to write his awful letters to the editor.
"This tape is exclusively for patriots, Stroker. Im only letting you watch it now because I know it will help with your reeducation." Dan cautioned as he put in the tape and returned to my favorite spot—standing erect behind my bared ass with his pants down.
I was amazed at what we saw. The smirking prezident standing in army fatigues with the blue sky of a desert landscape behind him and the curve of a rocky cave entrance above him. He strode forward as the camera receded to mark his path deeper into the cave. Those oil and corruption-tainted hands went to his belt as he walked, and the smirk got wider. I was astounded to see Giorge unbuckling and unzipping his military costume pants for the camera. The usual smug look in his eyes was deeper with determination than I had ever seen. This was no joke, whatever he was up to. Then suddenly he stopped in place while the camera continued to recede until you could fully see the object that lay in his path: a naked man bent over and shackled to a couch, just like me!
"What the _f_u_c_k_?" I cried. "Shut up and watch." Dan ordered.
I noticed two things next. First that Buschy was a boxer boy—-appearing in standard issue olive drabs, I might add-- which won him points with me. Apparently hed learned from his last play acting photo op on the air craft carrier that you need to go all the way if youre going to make soldier drag really work. The other thing was that the man bent over the couch looked AWFULLY familiar. He was clean shaven in face and head and rather thin, but had dark piercing eyes and a long narrow nose that riveted me and suddenly caused me to gasp in recognition.
"Odadi Been Wantin!" I gasped. Hes been captured! "You will not breathe a word of this to a soul," Dan said evenly, gripping my balls as he did when he really meant business. "The world will be informed when our leader decides the time is right. Now watch."
And watch I did. And that was the moment that Dans own Man, Giorge, acting against every notion Ive ever had of decency and statesmanship and international law—ulp!!!—became, Im mortified to confess, MY hero too. Sure, it was the wrong country, but at last the lying son of a bitch unsheathed before my very eyes a rather impressive weapon of ASS destruction that posed an unmistakably imminent threat (at least to the infamous wretched slob whose bare ass wriggled in its path) My own _c_o_c_k_ spasmed involuntarily as I let out a little yelp of shock and awe. I was in love, god _d_a_m_n_ it! I wanted to lick the camel _s_h_i_t_ off Giorges brand new combat boots!
Guys, do I need to explain the beauty of what Dan was showing me? If it it hadnt been enough to find myself getting everything my liberal ass deserved from my local self-appointed Republikan prince with the huge prick, I was now witnessing a parallel justice of a far greater magnitude being acted out in front of me. In a sorry assed, fish-in-a-barrel position identical to my own—shackled and bent over bare-assed—squirmed the most evil enemy our country has ever faced. Imagine how this unflattering association multiplied my humiliation!
Behind him, duplicating Dans way of supporting his yanked down fatigues and shorts between the tensed spread of his thighs even as he thrust his hips forward into his target stood the most untrustworthy, self-centered leader the free world had ever known—a man who could take the admitted-to murders of 3,000 people and reduce it to the level of personal insult and inconvenience, and see it as being all about him and thus giving him the license to do anything he wanted to anybody. Add to this the accumulated pressure of his having lived the past 30 years blue-balling it with a boring wife and under the yoke of a prudish, _s_e_x_-hating religious regimen, and you can imagine the fierceness and brutality with which Dans Man, howling with righteous rage, charged forward to lead a savage assault on our worst enemys rear flank.
At the same second, beaming with aroused adoration and moved to emulate the actions of his hero, Dan finally pushed his _c_o_c_k_head through my butt ring, echoing his heros war cry. Gasping, I surrendered to the ecstatic, explosive mingling of pain and pleasure that signaled my subsequent inability to distinguish my feelings about Dan from my feelings about Giorge.
Yep. You heard me.
From that day forward every time I saw Giorges image I got a hard on and had to go jack off. I even started making campaign contributions to the _f_u_c_k_er just so I could get more chances to watch him strut on TV and jack off to his image. Pretty pathetic, huh? Even hearing his name still causes my _c_o_c_k_ to swell and forces me to awkwardly hide my sudden, stiff, and perverse allegiance to the man from the curious and confused eyes of my friends.
Of course Giorge and Dan WERE different. Giorge HAD all the power HE needed and had no reason to hold anything back while he _f_u_c_k_ed that murdering bastards ass and blasted the angriest most massive load hed ever shot all the way up inside (an act which, according to Dans sources for the tape, will be repeated 24 7 at BOTH ends of the mass murdering bastard by as many of the 50,000 troops stationed there as there will be time for, until the day Giorges advisors decide the public needs to hear about his capture--Nov 1 is my guess). Dan however, is still building power and thus, has to be more careful of it. Since he noticed it only took one mighty thrust of his Republikan prick to make me shoot my copious cumload all over the back of his couch, Dan wisely withdrew his rock hard scepter and kept his own load in reserve. That took discipline and a strong will, I know, because my manhole grips _c_o_c_k_s like a boa constrictor with a silk-lined esophagus. But losing himself in the pleasure of my ass at this early stage would have compromised Dans power over me, and endangered the success of the mission hed picked out for me.
"One lesson down," he reminded me as I melted in a totally naked, orgasmic puddle across his couch back while he pulled up his pants and did himself up. "20 more to go"
The cuckoo clock on Dans livingroom wall struck 9 pm. It was a sound that could have come from an episode of the three Stooges on his TV, but in fact the screen was filled with the November 2nd evening local news coverage of the Prezidential election. A woman from Channel Nein was reporting the mysteriously low turnout at the polls of notable democratic activists, and interviewing people who futilely speculated over the possible reasons.
"Hear that, Stroker?" Dan whispered into my ear, pressing his warm, bare chest against my naked back.. "The polls are closed and your mission is accomplished. Time for your final reward, Patriot!"
"Oh god, yes!" I groaned as I clenched my ready manhole to finally receive the firm, steady penetration of Dan the Mans erect schlong. No more torturous yet delicious wet kisses from his _c_o_c_k_head all over my mancunt lips—this was gonna be the real thing. Pushing forcefully back into Dans crotch with my starving ass made this long anticipated deep _f_u_c_k_ing of my manpussy almost free of pain and infused it with a maximum of pleasure. The biggest fattest ripe strawberry of a dickhead Id ever tasted was now plowing its way up my itchy, lust-slickened manfurrow as it was driven forward by the piston-thick meatshaft Dan had been teasing me with on and off for two months.
When Dans bush was finally flattened against my ass, his _c_o_c_k_stick buried out of sight, and his low-hanging balls swinging against mine, and most importantly, the meaty tip of his glans finally pressed up against the guyclit of my prostate, a million bells rang in my head, and I knew that the seemingly endless wait and the unconscionable betrayals had all been worth it.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" I gasped as Dan the Mans totally possessive thrust reached its furthest extent. I reached my hands back to see if by grasping his naked ass cheeks and pulling them into me I could get him to go even deeper. Like a Bengal tiger allowing a child to stroke the fur on his forhead unscathed, Dans allowance to my indulging my hunger with his hard body merely magnified his dominance.
"MMMMMMmmmmmmmm," Dan purred, with echoed approval. Leaving the shackles off for Strokers home stretch really hadnt turned out to be much of a risk at all, he thought to himself. Al was chained more securely to his conquerer by his own lust than any metal hardware could have done. The entire length of the defeated liberals ass canal was squeezing his dick like a lubricated fist, and oh baby, did THAT feel good. As he slowly withdrew his dick for the next thrust of Strokers, long awaited grand ass_f_u_c_k_ing, he marveled at the powerful sensation of suction that Als ass exerted on his _c_o_c_k_ so that Dan wouldnt entirely pull out before plunging in for the next thrust of the _f_u_c_k_. Als pussy was like one of those woven straw Chinese finger traps he used to get at the school fairs when he was a kid. The harder you tried to pull your fingers out of the ends of the tube, the tighter it gripped you. He realized that the intense mutual pleasure they were enjoying risked the danger of making Al believe they were equal men, and that it was time to wipe the ecstatic smile of his face by rubbing it into a few of the wetspots of his recent misdeeds.
"Of course when I call you PATRIOT, I actually mean SHAMELESS ASS WHORE," laughed Dan as he pumped his hips forward into Al.
"OH, FUCCCCKKKKKK, YESSSSSSSSS." I cried as I took his hard _c_o_c_k_ full force. Who knew better than I the truth of Dans taunting words?
"Uh huh," hissed Dan as he started to ride me with shorter, quicker thrusts up my guytwat.. "Youre a little TRAITOR BUTT SLUT, Al. Youd have done anything, sold out anyone just to get my stiff _c_o_c_k_ up your ass!"
"Its TRUE! Oh, god, _f_u_c_k_ ME, DAN. _f_u_c_k_ MY BIG TIGHT BUTT!" I groaned, mad with desire and reveling in the amazing sensations his ruthless reactionary _c_o_c_k_ was stirring inside me.
"GOOD NEIGHBOR INITIATIVE! Hah!" Sneered Dan, referring to the highly ironic name of the secret local Repuplikan's devious plan, whic I had been instrumental in helping him execute yesterday. We'd gone together door to door to every one of my male liberal friends and presented each one of them with a mysterious package, the address of a carefully selected hard core local conservative, and a ridiculously flattering photo of the guy.
"You KNEW you were setting them for me and my buddies and betraying the demokratic party, and you did it anyway, you WHORE!" he grunted as he screwed me roughly, hands on my shoulders. "You knew that all they had to do was watch me grabbing your ass and crotch and tonguing your ear at their doorsteps while you explained the Initiative, and theyd want to join the konservative conversion team as well."
"Yes, I KNEW!" I cried, meeting his thrusts ecstatically even in my shame. In fact, the ill gotten gain of my _s_e_x_ual reward was making me feel oddly confessional. "I knew there were shackles just like mine in each of those.... UHH!....boxes! I knew those photos were.....ohhhh........ at LEAST ten years old, but that......ummmm!....... it wouldnt matter once they got.....OH, YEAH!!!.... to the guys porch and hed quickly.....AHHHH!.... grab them and their ....OH, DAN!...indecisive .knees would go weak....MMMM!!.....and before they knew it theyd be bent .....YEAH!....over the guys couch in chains....AH,_f_u_c_k_K!!.. with their pants down.....OHH!..so their usual openness to input would be spread extra wide.....MMMMM! .....all while. having to watch the miserable local results of the election that I.....OHHH!....I, Stroker Al , RUMP WHORE of DAN THE MAN.....AHHH!!!......made them miss......_f_u_c_k_,YEAH........because they were getting ......OW!..._f_u_c_k_ed up the ass by some other right wing bastard!"
"But YOU didnt miss the election, DID YOU, whore boy?" Dan grunted as he rammed me faster, and sweat poured down between his naked chest and my back.
Ulp! Why did the _f_u_c_k_er have to ruin it and remind me? Hed driven us down there at 8pm and Id dashed inside t so quickly with Dan at my heels checking that indeed that I had switched to the Republikan party weeks ago as promised, so that I would be on the rolls and ready. "_f_u_c_k_ ME. FASTER! OH, GOD, DAN, _f_u_c_k_KK MEEEEE!!!!" I cried, trying to block the memory.
"Ive BEEN _f_u_c_k_ing you for THREE MONTHS, ass slut!" Dan jeered. "Whod we vote for? REMIND ME!"
"Its private!" I groaned, idiotically as Dan the Man nailed my naked ass.
"You HAVE no privacy," he sneered. "Justice Scalia has written so many times, but even if he hadnt , I OWN you and your ass, so cough it up and admit who you voted for. Cmon. Who is the best man for the job?"
I writhed helplessly as Dan battered my prostate with the hot, spongy glans that he weilded at the end of that manly pole of muscle, and I gasped with unimaginable pleasure and humiliation. The confessional urge that had momentarily slipped away, now rose higher and higher in my gut even as I felt my approaching orgasm climb like a Republikan fundraising thermometer.
"We have a winner," announced a smug Faux Newz reporter who winked at me from Dans TV screen as if he could see me in my penetrating humiliation. Speaking live from state election headquarters in Flooruda, where hundreds of people cheered and danced behind him, he continued. "And that winner is ........."Giorge Busch!
"Uhhh! Uhhh!" I gasped as Dan rode my ass towards the finish line, hissing the order for me to say Repeat the victor's name.
".....Giorge....."
"AHHHHH!!!!""
"......Busch!!!!!!""
"OH GOD! OH GOD OH GOD........" My baritone cries heralded my molten eruption. "OH GOD! OH GOD OH GOD........" Rang out Dan's piercing tenor simultaneously. So equally harmonious did these VOCAL ejaculations suggest our ORGASMIC ones to be, Dan must have felt compelled to bail like the bomb-riding cowboy in Dr. Strangelove, because in the next second he was bearding his ecstasy in patriotism.
"Oh GODDDDDD BLESS AMERICAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!" Dan cried as he rammed me with his climactic thrust, arching his whole body backwards and stretched up on his toes, lifting my whole backside a few inches off the floor as his hose pumped gushes of victory spunk deep inside me. I shot a truly liberal amount of jizz myself at the same moment in an amazing spermy arc, which, thanks to Dans lifting thrust, cleared the back of the couch and jetted directly against the glowing TV screen with an audibly spunky splatter.
At that moment, I dont think a total loser like myself had ever felt more like a winner. Dan even gave me a victory kiss after he pulled out of my ass and smacked it with a low five. "Im gonna go take a shower." He said. "Why dont you go home and take a shower yourself....AFTER you lick every drop of that mess of potential life you squirted all over. Then, if youre in the mood you can come back and have another beer with me while we watch the rest of the returns."
So much for feeling like a winner, I thought to myself as I knelt down in front of the TV screen to begin lapping up my warm, spermy _c_o_c_k_spew. Dan laughed as he caught the sight, just before turning away to take his shower, of his conquered neighbor licking his own cum off of the beaming satellite face shot of our hero, Giorge. It looked like a was literally a Party lapdog. As he headed down the hallway in triumph to wash up, he smirked at the sound of my yelps and yeowches as my wet tongue smarted from electrostatic shock after shock during my progressive cleaning of Dans TV screen. "And dont miss the spots on the carpet!" he called out.
Just after Ten oclock on election night I returned, all cleaned up. to Dans door to present him with a box of cigars. "Congratulations," I muttered, sheepishly, staring down at my feet to avoid the brilliance of his triumphant grey eyes. "You were right. The best man won," I said, letting him think I was talking about the prezident. Of course he invited me in, to celebrate with him.
"El Producto! Nice choice, Stroker" He said as I stood next to him in his easy chair and humbly lit the fat cigar for him and watched him puff with pleasure on it.
"Where are my manners. Would you like a smoke, too?" he suddenly asked. Surprised, I was ready to decline politely when I heard the familiar sound of Dans zipper coming down and I saw him grinning at me with those incomparable eyes. I sighed and got down on my knees to help unwrap and puff on the big stogie Dan had actually been offering me, and which I could NEVER refuse.
Somewhere on the Yahoo groups Cigarpics, theres a photo of me giving Dan the Man a blow job as he relaxes in a lazyboy, smoking that cigar. This is according to a former friend of mine who says hes still pissed at me for helping destroy our country, yet is STILL getting butt_f_u_c_k_ed regularly by the rightwing _s_h_i_t_head Dan and I fixed him up with. I believe him, knowing it would have been just like Dan to email Cigarpics a frame out of his videotaping of my downfall.. It WOULD make a quintessential picture for that site, anyway, because Dan really did look fine that night sitting there in a fresh pair of fatigues, Showin' off his hard tits in a new white T shirt, sporting his good old University team baseball cap, and enjoying a good cigar while I sucked his _c_o_c_k_. He came in my mouth long before his cigar was finished, so I offered to leave "so (he) could enjoy the rest of it in solitude."
As I walked home in the mild November night air, I whistled a familiar tune I couldnt immediately identify, even as I savored the mushroomy aftertaste of Dans _c_o_c_k_ spew on my tastebuds. Yeah, it still tasted good, and a LOT better than the carpet fibers I was still picking off of my tongue.
It still FELT good, too, to be a man, even a weasely traitor of a man, at that. The worst thing I have to confess, beyond betraying my self, my party, and really, my country, by helping subject them to four more years of rotten, backward leadership, destined to destroy the courts and representational government as we know it, is that getting my ample ass _f_u_c_k_ed by that mean, virile, rutting bastard Dan was WORTH it.
Even aside from the _s_e_x_ual ecstasy, It was an invaluable lesson getting to know, oh god, the HARD WAY how the world REALLY works, and how cheating is justified by the ends, at least when the "right" people do the cheating. The sad reality is that I COULDNT have had Dan, the maniacal, idealogical _f_u_c_k_er Man, any other way. But as I said, while it felt good to be a man, AS a man, I have certain tendancies that no amount of brainwashing or personal evolution can alter. After men get what they want, they tend, metaphorically at least, to roll over and go to sleep. So there is a question of how deeply learned even the hardest, most deliciously humiliating lesson can be.
Before going inside, I lingered expectantly on my back yard deck, alternately gazing up at the brilliant stars in the clear, jet black sky and glancing back at the warm yellow orange glow through Dans back windows. When I heard the sudden small explosion, shattering the stillness like the first shot of a long war, I suddenly identified the tune Id been whistling as The Internationale, that rousing working class hymn from the early 20th century workers movements.
I heard Dans back screen door burst open with a crash, and then his angry stride through the autumn leaves that blanket his backyard.
"STROKER!!!!" he bellowed, in a booming, threatening tone that promised untold torments ahead for my rebellious ass. And then he hiked himself over the top of my fence to show me his angry, soot-blackened minstrel face, relieved only by the blinking whites of his enraged eyes. The stub of his exploding cigar peeled back cartoon-like from the corner of his twisted mouth like a many-petalled flower. Peace and love it did NOT signal.
"Sorry, Dan," I smiled sweetly. "I guess the revolution has begun!"
THE END (Dan the Man)
I hope everyone has found something to enjoy and be pissed about in my cautionary "tail." Clearly I believe the world would be a better place if there were more bipartisan _f_u_c_k_ing and sucking going on (or any at all!), but make no mistake: Come November, If we let the bastards _f_u_c_k_ us over AGAIN , then Im afraid we DESERVE to be their bitches for the rest of the twenty-first century. That how long its going to take to undo the damage that four more years of rule under BuschCO will wreak upon this country. It doesnt matter if I would suck his kommander in Cheef _c_o_c_k_ in a second if I had a chance. He is completely inappropriate for the job of prezident, and the ideology of the people who put him in power is the most dangerous, anti-democratic threat this nation has ever faced internally.
I welcome thoughtful responses to the story (but NOT to this endnote!) and especially encourage angry, _s_e_x_ually threatening lectures from all you real life Dan the Man wannabees, explaining to me how I have misrepresented his right wing politics, AS LONG AS you know how to make it _s_e_x_Y and dont bore me to death. If youre REALLY persuasive, gentlemen, I may even incorporate your superior arguments into the final revised version of this story so you can vicariously torment poor wishy washy Al through the character of Dan! Liberals who "get it", I welcome your comments too. If you DONT get it, however, please do me a favor and spend your time more productively by getting out the vote.
Stroker Al