This is a sex fantasy based on the Australian soap "Neighbours". Most of the characters in this story are copyright of the Grundy Network. All the events that follow are made up and nothing to do with the show or any actors from it. And Batman and Robin are copyright of DC comics.
Been a couple of years since Jesse Spencer left Neighbours but he's damn hard to get out of the system. This prequel/sequel takes place a couple of years later too. Don't know whether or not to follow it up so let me know if you like it.
(and to BJ - surprise!!)
Darcy's favourite way to let off some steam after a hard day at work was pull of his pants, whack a good boy porn tape into the video, then sit back and thrash himself off. He liked young guys best of all, teen boys who he could imagine himself dominating, the prettier the better. He liked them hairless and smooth and tightly muscular, and he liked them on the bottom. He always went for the high school fantasies or the teen bondage, and was always most turned on by a totally obedient boy. Or one who was taught to be obedient.
Recently, since moving to Erinsborough he'd found a new supplier of videos. Underground stuff. Very cheaply made but very arousing. They were so obviously unprofessional that the fucking felt more convincing and voyeuristic - they weren't porn stars in the movies but real people.
More real than he might have thought, in fact. Because he hadn't expected, when he ordered 'Lapdancer Gangbang' to recognise the star. But there he was; the dancing stripper whose butthole was pummelled on a small unconvincing set by three very convincing college boys. Karl and Susan's son, Bill. He couldn't help chuckling. The respectable doctor and respectable headmistress, and their bland suburban klatch... the son she talked of so proudly was being buggered for public enjoyment in queer porn. This made the video immediately hotter. He was even watching it in the guest room in Karl's house. Oh yeah, he'd noticed before that Billy Kennedy had grown into a hot little cocktease. This wasn't the first time he'd caused Darcy to cum. While Bill had lived here Darcy had often fantasised about paying the family a visit and starting an affair with him. Imagined creeping into bed with him and night and wrapping him up in his arms. Playing footsie with him under the table, winking at him across the room, right under his parents noses. And always imagined that face, that sexy cocky face covered in his very own cum.
In the video, Billy wiggled his buttocks slowly over the erect cock of a very pleased looking skinheaded college boy. Hands clasped behind his head as the rim of his hole kept on lightly brushing the tip of the big bulging cock head. The guy losing control as this continued, the swaying stripper boy Billy Kennedy teasing the thick cock until it began to thrust involuntarily, until the guy had no choice but to smack his hands around Billy's taut waist and pull him further down, until the cock head was protruding between his buttocks, and then started to slowly, slowly, go up and down until he was entering him. The other two college guys had stripped their shirts off and came to join in the action. They were stocky but not as sexy as Billy. It didn't matter. Fuck! No-one was as sexy as Billy! That was why it was GREAT to see them being able to treat him like this. They were kissing at his shoulders and arms as the other college boy found his way further up that hole. After the guy came they swapped, and Billy was screwed again on the floor while the boys held his cute boy legs apart as far as they would go.
Darcy enjoyed that one. Flushed the stuck-together tissues down the same toilet Billy must have used growing up. He was still grinning. It was so satisfying to know that Billy had got what was coming to him. He wondered how the little bitch lived now. Whoring himself maybe. Man, that would be worth splashing out on.
He could never tell Bill's parents, of course. But it was a good thing to know.
He greedily got hold of all the other videos starring 'Kiki Kennedy' he could find. 'Caveboy Cunt', filmed somewhere that looked like the outback but was probably only a few miles out of town. Bill's pert teasing buttocks wrapped in a little leather skirt, the rest of his body totally naked. Billy as a caveboy taken for a wife by a caveman with a huge club, and fucked in caves. Fucked in his own goddamn cave anyway. Bill's sexy legs spread over a middle-aged body builders thick shoulders. Billy's legs became so narrow around his ankles. It was cute and boyish and that alone made Darcy orgasm. That and Billy's groaning. He loved to hear a faggoty voice groaning, loved to imagine it groaning his name and begging for more. 'Boy Wonder'. Billy dressed as Robin in those outrageously homoerotic skimpy green speedos. Obviously from a costume shop like the Batman outfit on the hunk who fucked him, but the trunks had been altered, skimpy and tight around his genitals and arse so that their shape was totally obvious. 'Gym Slut'. Billy draped over a pummel horse. Beefy men taking turns.
Then one morning one of the video packages came to the door when he wasn't there, and it was accidentally opened by Karl. 'Naughty Schoolboy' it said. 'Starring Kiki Kennedy'. There was a picture on the makeshift cover of Bill posing in his old school uniform. The uniform was kept at Bill's place, Karl had taken it over there himself. Lance and Toady in particular had enjoyed making up for the fun they'd longed for but missed in their school days with bitchboy.
Karl didn't realise the mistake at first. He thought his mates were taking a risk in sending this to home, but was still looking forward to watching it. See what mischief his slut boy had been pushed into this time. It was only when the receipt dropped out that he saw Darcy's name and checked the front of the envelope again.
Well, well. So Darcy knew.
That night, over a drink, he quietly presented the videotape to Darcy in the pub. Darcy was horrified at being discovered but, chuckling, Karl calmed him down. Then they went for a walk and he told Susan's appetisingly well-built nephew the story.
It was meant to have been Bill Kennedy's goodbye party. That night, a couple of years ago. When he'd surrendered that fit, sexy young body of his to all the men who desired him - which meant just about all the men he knew. It was meant to have been a farewell. The men of Ramsay Street had believed, stupidly it seemed now, that one night of sheer pleasure with the hot teenage boy would be enough to sate their incredible lust for him, that they wouldn't need him any more after that.
When you haven't had Billy, when it seems impossible that you'll ever be able to have him, the idea of just fucking him once seems to be more than enough. He was, so people thought, a young straight guy with a girlfriend.
But Bill's 'friend' Lance had planned otherwise, and so had his 'father' Karl. They'd known better.
They were the ones who had first discovered Bill's love of submission, after that night a couple of years back when Lance had got drunk with him in the local pub. That night when Bill's defences had broke down and he'd finally revealed to Lance in a lowered, whispered faggoty voice that it was only by thinking about men that he'd been able to sustain a sexual relationship with Lance's sister. Told him that when they fucked he liked her to reach around and stick her finger into his butthole, and then as he thrusted back and forward he imagined that this penetration, this teasing and almost insignificant feeling of being invaded was just a prelude to something better, a hint of what the real thing would feel like. When he put his penis into Anne, tried desperately to appear hungry for her, he kept that penis hard by imagining the finger up his hole would soon be replaced by something bigger. Something fatter, something longer. Something that belonged to a man who desired him. Him, Billy Kennedy. He was so proud of his tight, sexy body. He so longed for men to desire it. Bill Kennedy dreamed, pictured, visualized, conjured up in his head the idea of what it would feel like for his arsehole to be filled with cock. And he became good at imagining it, over time. Enough to be able to have sex with Anne, anyway. Enough to get him hard and make him cum, if he imagined hard enough. He even held back from masturbating so that the cum would flow easier and thicker when he was with her. But finally after so many months, just imagining it wasn't enough any more. His asshole ached and itched in anticipation of the cock that he thought would never enter it. He saw men on the streets and wished that they would grab him by the arm and take him down some side alley to give him what he needed, wished that they would somehow know what he was and take advantage of it. Use him. Maybe not even say anything, just use him and throw him away. He passed building sites and wished that it was him the big men were whistling at, and not the women. He realised, he told Lance, that he needed it. Needed it enough to humiliate himself before Lance with this revelation, to beg him - literally fucking beg him - to give it to him just once. Not knowing that this was Lance's dream come true, that Lance would have given anything to break that boy cunt open. Not knowing that Lance and Toady and Joel had spent many a night sitting around in a huddle and talking about the things they'd like to do to the hot, hot Billy Kennedy. All the nights they'd sat swapping their fantasies about making Billy Kennedy their lust slave... Lance had wanted to fuck Billy right as he worked out... Toady dreamed of putting him in a dog collar and leash and making him crawl on all fours for his master... Joel, who had often seen Billy's pert little butt in tight speedos, had always wanted to have his way with him on the school premises... they'd raced those nights to see who could jizz up first, turning each other on with their ideas, their fantasising. Bill Kennedy's hot fucking body and his equally sexy, tauntingly sexy face were completely irresistible.
And now that piece of irresistible meat had offered itself to Lance. Bill Kennedy sitting there in the pub in his dungarees and shirt trying to look like a workman, with that horny-as-fuck face. Lance tried not to look as eager as he was. He didn't want Bill to know what a devastatingly hot little bastard he was. He wanted Bill to think he was indifferent and would fuck him as a favour, as a concession to Bill's weakness. He wanted Billy to be not only conquered, but grateful for it too.
Because that's what it was that night. A conquest. The stupid little finger fucks that Bill had settled for before, those were merely invasions of his body. But when Lance took him to his bed that night it was a conquest. He planted himself in Billy, sealed himself to him with cum. Yeah, the cum throbbing in the hanging, loaded package between Lance's thighs as he watched Bill Kennedy, there in his very own bedroom, drunkenly unbuttoning his shirt. The cum and blood throbbing in him as he approached to help him, as he placed his hands on Bill's torso and slid the shirt away from his back. As he pulled down Bill's trousers from behind and revealed that tight smooth bubble butt, that boy arse that was going to be his. His for the breaking. What red-blooded man could resist? Oh, so very very much cum flowed from him and into Bill when he made love to him that night. If you could call it making love. It was really more like making hate. He did hate Bill Kennedy, for arousing him so much, for being in his thoughts all the time, for being so fucking perfect. For being neat boy, sexy boy, good boy with his middle class family and toned arms and taut little chest. Hated him for giving all of that boy-man perfection to his sister Anne and not to Lance's own mammoth hunger.
Oh yeah, the cum, all that cum wriggling and kissing at Bill's insides. He liked to imagine all that seed thrashing around the insides of Bill's body looking for the eggs. Not finding them but spreading itself gradually all the way through the inside of Bill, so that a layer of Lance's seed clutched at his entire sexy body from the inside.
He thought about that afterwards, of course. That night he was far too crazed with his lust to know anything other than that he reeeeally fucking loved making out with this lithe back, scraping his teeth down it, and that he reeeeeaally fucking loved the solidity of this biceps he was squeezing in his hands, against his palms. He loved cumming and staying hard anyway, and watching tears trickle from Bill's eyes down his hot face and onto the pillow, he loved the intense fleshy heat that enveloped his dick, and the long groans of satisfaction from that throat, that Billy Kennedy throat inside that long neck. He loved the tangy smell of Billy Kennedy's sweat that came to his nostrils in waves as the pair of them bounced up and down in giant thuds on the bed, the impaler and the impaled, the cock and the cunt.
And he loved afterwards, continuing to pretend that he'd had no real interest in screwing Bill. That he could have fucked anyone just as magnificently, just as furiously, and Bill just happened to be the lucky one. Loved taking him by the arm, by the fantastic toned bicep, and walking him to the front door and grunting to him, "There. You wanted to know what a real man fucks like. THAT's what a real man fucks like. And you'll never fuck my sister that way, Billy, because you. Are. Cunt" and then pushing him out onto the street without any clothes on at four in the morning. He chuckled to himself as he returned to bed for an utterly contented sleep, wondering how and if Bill would get back into his own house without a key. The faggot wouldn't dare knock on the door, for fear of waking Toady and Lance.
Ha! Like those two wouldn't hear about this. Lance told them over breakfast the next morning, and they congratulated the lucky son of a bitch, getting really excited about the possibilities this opened up.
Next to know was Bill's father, Karl, that afternoon. He wasn't Bill's real father, of course. Karl's wife Susan had once had an affair with an incredibly sexy surfer guy, Jesse, and Billy was the result. Karl hadn't really forgiven her for the affair, or so he told her, but he'd taken her back anyway, because why disrupt his little marriage of convenience? In fact the surfer, a 'friend of the family', was an insatiably rampant bi beast who had slept with Karl once or twice too. And at the back of his mind Karl had always hoped the kid would grow to look like his pretty, long-gone father. He'd been rewarded for waiting. Billy had grown up to look exactly like Jesse. Absolute boy pussy. And when Toady had lived with the Kennedy's, Karl had observed easily enough the hungry looks that Bill's porky mate gave the little hunk when he wasn't looking. He'd told Toady the story, and they'd became friends through their shared desire for the foxy fucker.
So Karl was told all about it later that morning, in his surgery. Lance giving him all the details. It was such deeply good and satisfying news that Karl had to unzip his flies and jerk himself off while Lance spoke. So he takes after his father, he thought. I can't wait to see if he feels like his father too. "He wants cock" Lance said. " He needs cock, he's totally desperate for it. He told me, when I was fucking him, I think he said it kind of by accident, 'cause he was so turned on he didn't know what he was saying..." Lance looked proud as he said this, "He told me that all he really wants is to be used by men." That was when Karl's cum volcanoed from his dick head and down the sides of his hand.
Used by men. That was what he wanted. That was what men wanted. That was what he would get.
It was Lance who'd first suggested the Goodbye Party to him, when Bill had got that job out of town, and looked set to move out of Erinsborough. He'd confided to him that Joel and Toady were pretty keen on him too, and wouldn't mind having a crack at him before he left. At that, Bill let slip, "Oh, I can't believe they never said anything!" And Lance grinned Already Bill was freely admitting that what he wanted more than anything was to be possessed by men. More and more easily letting Lance see him as he really was. There was no going back for him now. Billy Kennedy admitting more and more easily the totally submissive faggot he really was. Lance seeing that hot body and knowing that from now on, it would be the property and the toy of horny men. Even if Billy didn't know it yet. The goodbye party would be more of a surprise party really. Surprise. You're ours.
Lance simply promised Bill a good sending-off from a couple of his old friends. Like the three of them giving him a good shafting was no different to having a few drinks.
The presence of all the other guys from Ramsay Street at the party was part of the surprise. He didn't find out about them until the night itself. And when he did, when he walked through the door into Lance and Toady's home, he was surprised and shocked and overwhelmingly excited. Lou? Drew? His dad? Young Paul and Tad? So many men who craved him... he'd lost all his inhibitions almost immediately, and surrendered himself to their lust. Overwhelmed by their numbers. This dark need of his, this craving, it must have been right after all, because all the men he knew wanted him to be that way. No need to act like their friend or some polite young man from down the road any more. Now he acted like their slave. He became willing, pliant arsehole and loved it. And they fucked him in every hole they could all night long. Took him bak to his old school and fucked him all around the building.
The bigger surprise, which Lance and Karl had planned ahead, was cancelling his journey out of Erinsborough and arranging for a small flat for him, not very far away from Ramsey Street itself. They knew that when they suggested it to him, just at the right moment, in the thick of the orgy with his asshole pummelled by a huge group of men and the taste of cum in his mouth... they knew that he'd agree. Because that was what he was. It was his fantasy come true, as much as theirs. He couldn't not agree.
And, when the night came, exhausted by his deep and insatiable enslavement to cock, he assented so easily.
So easily. the stupid, fantastic little fucker.
As that night ended and the sun started to rise, the men of Ramsey Street carried their trophy out onto the school's football pitch, and fucked him one more time in the mud. So many piling onto him that he sank half into the mud in the frenzy. To crown the night and his gorgeous degradation, the men then stood up and treated him to a final golden shower. He bathed and writhed in their hot flowing piss, his arms plopping out of the mud so he could run his hands over his muscular body. He spread the piss everywhere it would go like he was taking a real shower. He spread the piss over his tight pecs even as the fresh flow of it splashed against his fingers. He smeared it around his neck and rubbed it under his armpits. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in pleasure as it flowed over his face.
Conquered. Completely.
They had him walk back to the car and climb back into the trunk. It would stink of piss the next day, but it'd be easy enough to get it cleaned. He had to be up pretty early so he could 'leave town' - What a joke. The taxi would only take him a few blocks away, to his new place -so he was allowed to shower at Toady and Lance's house. He was unwilling to do it, he loved having the smell of his masters' domination all over him. There'll be plenty of time for that in the future, they told him. All the time in the world.
And when Bill Kennedy left Ramsey Street, he left behind the assertive and independent young man he'd tried to be, the healthy, sexy straight boy with a girlfriend. His deepest dirtiest wish had come true and his humiliation was complete. He was tamed and broken. He was now a sex toy that existed only for the pleasure of men.
A few months later, Lance let Anne in on the deception. Bill had never satisfied her as a lover and she'd found a new man who lived out of town and who she knew her parents would never approve of. He was, among other things, a pornographer. So she pretended to move out of town to go live with Bill, and he went along with it in the lying, rehearsed phone calls he made to his family. When he made those calls he used a Bill Kennedy persona that he now knew wasn't him any more. It got harder and harder for him to pretend, but he could put that down to simply growing away from his family.
The men of Ramsay Street paid for the flat and his food partly with their own money, partly by whoring him out to friends, relatives and fucking casual acquaintances. Karl sometimes quietly recommended him to patients as a kind of stress relief toy. Like a massage except they were the ones who got to handle the muscles and the flesh. The money from Anne's boyfriend Jake helped a lot too. He would often make use of Billy. Sending guys down to his tiny flat to pick him up and use him in quickie porn flicks. Bill on the bottom always, where he belonged.
So the party had never ended. It had continued through its own hangover and taken over Bill Kennedy's existence. He never left that delirious state of waiting for the next cock, the next man. Never knowing who he was going to give himself to that day, that night. Individuals, groups, college boys out for a good time, local gays who had seen his porn videos and wanted in on the action.
The men who owned him kept a chest of sex toys and a wardrobe of clothes in his flat. They each had copies of the keys. He didn't. They wanted, whenever they went into that flat to find him only in his shorts, or a thong, or swimming trunks or hotpants, so they always left him there in his underwear with his clothes locked away. They didn't want him able to play with his dildos while they weren't around either. It was a waste for him to be filled with fake cock when there was no-one there to see it.
His body had become even tighter, more muscular. He ate less, but it was more nutrition, less fun food. With nothing to do a lot of the time he did loads of working out. Had to keep the guys hot for him. He worried about them tiring of him and finding someone else. And he'd have no idea by now how to return to a normal life.
Darcy wanted to nail Kiki Kennedy and he wanted everyone to see it. So he asked a favour of Karl. And soon enough he had a new favourite porn flick to enjoy. A strangely familiar man in his early thirties with big muscles and killer abs, giving 'hitchhiker' Kiki Kennedy a ride and then facefucking him on the roof of the car.
When he and a couple of Jake's associates first arrived at Billy's flat - the guys called it 'the pit' - he was taken aback by the odour of stale sweat and cum inside the place. The stink of men and their juices as in the very air Billy breathed, day in, day out. Billy, climbing out of his bed, looked pleased to see him. Billy who'd given away everything for this existence, a young man in his early twenties who wanted only to be used and now greeted him with a look of dizzy hunger and submission. He walked over to this new man and knelt down in front of him. The men had taught him always to great strangers with a gesture of obedience. Billy kneeling before him, the curve of his bowed neck as it grew from his delicious back so deeply sexy. As sexy as his complete unqualified need to give men pleasure with his body and be degraded by them. There was even a dried streak of cum on his jutting chin. Fucking perfect. To have this slut here in the flesh was better than anything. They dressed him and too him a little way out of town, shooting the movie somewhere deserted by the coast. The plot had Darcy taking the foxy young hitchhiker Kiki Kennedy into his car, getting regular blow jobs as payment for giving him a ride. Darcy's strong arms lifting Kiki onto the roof of the car and then straddling him there, straddling his face, straddling his face and stroking his throbbing cock from side to side against that face. Darcy's strong back arching as he let his arms fall by his sides and let his cock tug his abdomen upwards, let his cock spill and spill and spill all over that fucking face, just like he'd wanted, just like he'd fucking wanted... The camera was too far away to get a good closeup of it, and so Darcy scrambled down from the roof of the car, bringing the pussyboy with him. And he grabbed hold of the back of Kiki's neck and pushed his face towards the camera, "Get a fucking load of this!" he yelled excitedly, the camera and the screen filling up with that hot, pretty unbelievably sexy bitchboy face, soaked all over with thick cock cream. "Fuck, yeah! Get a load of this!"
That was so hot they left it in. That was where Darcy's new favourite porn movie ended, on that slutboy face covered in his own copious seed. On himself, holding up his prize.