The Pact: Episode 6 - Life Is a Bitch!
Copyright© 2025 by Thinking Horndog
Chapter 24
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 24 - Our various characters are moving on from the tumultuous Homecoming game, the dance, and the partying at the Club. Things aren’t all coming up roses. Enemies have been made, and new alliances will be required to deal with them.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa Ma/Ma mt Mult Teenagers Coercion Consensual Mind Control NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Romantic Slavery Gay BiSexual Heterosexual Shemale TransGender Fiction School Extra Sensory Perception Slut Wife Wife Watching Incest Mother Father Daughter BDSM DomSub MaleDom Light Bond Rough Spanking Torture Interracial Black Male Black Female White Male White Female Hispanic Male Hispanic Female Anal Sex Enema First Masturbation Oral Sex BBW
“Man, I gotta FUCK somethin’!” Tipper Bronson erupted. “I’m goin’ fuckin’ NUTS! Don’t you got a sister or somethin’?” he asked Jackson Porter, Marcel’s older brother. Both boys were eighteen at the time.
“Nope, just brothers,” Jackson reported.
“What about that one?” He waved at a fourteen-year-old running around nearby in shorts and a tank top. “Cute in the face.”
“Marcel? Nope. Sorry. He’s a boy.”
“Looks kinda gay to me,” Tipper grunted. At that age, Marcel’s baby face could have been a girl’s.
“Marcel’s just gettin’ past puberty. He don’t know from fuck,” Jackson snorted.
Tipper grunted. “Yeah, probably not.”
To an outside observer, that might have been the end of it – if that observer didn’t keep an eye on Tipper while his eyes drifted back to Marcel again and again.
Jackson was long gone when Tipper got up a few minutes later and rumbled to nobody in particular, “Can’t tell the difference. I guess clothes make the man ... or the girl.” He shuffled off for home.
Tipper lived with his dad. He had a sister, but his mother had custody of her. Some of her old play-clothes were in the back of a closet at the trailer, though. Tipper went digging and fished out a dress, somewhat the worse for the wear, that his sister had worn a few years before. He held it up, visualizing it on Marcel. “Yeah, this will do the trick.”
Jackson would bring his three brothers to the playground almost daily, but he tended to head off to the gym after a while to play basketball, leaving them to their own devices. Generally, they made their own way home, individually. As a result, Tipper had no problem collecting Marcel the next day.
“Hey, kid! Got a minute?”
Marcel looked up from the mess he was making in the sandbox, trying to create bunkers for army men. The sand was dry and wasn’t cooperative when it came to creating an overhead. Marcel had been toying with the idea of peeing on it to get it wet so he could form it, but peeing in the playground was likely to cause somebody’s mother to freak out.
His big brother’s friend Tipper came and stood over him and asked, “Playing war?”
“Yeah.” Marcel looked up at the guy from his squat.
“Ever do the Greek and Roman thing? Swords and stuff? You know...” he pretended to wave a sword around.
“No.” Marcel thought about it. It seemed pretty interesting.
“We’ve got a place where we do that stuff. Want to see it?” Tipper asked.
“Yeah.”
“Grab your shit, then.” Tipper waved him up. Marcel grabbed his army men and stuck them in his pocket and followed Tipper off.
‘That was easy,’ Tipper mused. “It’s indoors. Ever see those old movies with an arena and stuff? We have a place where we play a bunch of games...” It was three blocks to the old abandoned mill; Tipper kept up a line of chatter that was enough to keep Marcel occupied until they got there. Tipper led Marcel around the side and helped the boy through the window that they’d rigged to open despite the plywood cover. Once inside, Marcel didn’t know it, but he was trapped.
There was a large open floor area inside, and off to one side near some dusty machinery, there was an old mattress and some other things. Tipper, who was improvising, picked up a couple of pieces of old lath. “We use these for swords” – he waved one around – “but you have to get into the spirit of the thing. What’s your name again?”
“Marcel.”
“Okay, that’s close to an old Roman or Greek thing. We’ll call you Marcella. Now, a lot of the guys in the old days didn’t wear much, so we strip down...” Tipper started climbing out of his clothes, working until he got down to his briefs and running shoes. “Let’s see you, now.”
“Okay.” Marcel didn’t think about it much; it was part of the game, right? He dumped out of his shorts and T-shirt.
“Hmmmm. Not much there,” Tipper muttered, assessing Marcel’s skinny frame. “I think I have a uniform around here somewhere. That will help.” Tipper fished out his sister’s dress. “Put this on.”
Marcel eyed it. “Isn’t this a dress?”
“Back in the old days, they didn’t wear pants. You know that, right?” Tipper offered by way of explanation.
“Oh. Yeah.” Tipper was right, as far as Marcel knew from the old movies. He slid into the dress, feeling a little funny about it, but Tipper was STILL in his underwear.
When Marcel had the dress on, Tipper handed him a piece of lath and said, “Okay, let’s go a few rounds.”
Tipper started out easy, but started ramping it up after a while. There was NO WAY Marcel was going to keep up!
“Come on, work! The guys will kick your ass at this rate!” Tipper pressed. He kept pushing Marcel until he was visibly tired, then stepped back.
“You’re gonna have a tough time,” Tipper told Marcel. “We play by the old rules!”
“What old rules?” Marcel puffed.
“Winner take all!” Tipper replied. “The winning side kills or enslaves the losers! They take all the stuff and rape all the women!” He watched Marcel try to figure out what that meant for a moment, then said, “Okay, practice is over. Let’s have a REAL match!” He stepped in and started swinging.
This, too was carefully calculated. The lath hurt – Tipper delivered blows with the flat sides that stung and drained Marcel’s will to fight. Finally, Marcel fell and lay on the floor, trying to fend off blows.
“Do you give up?” Tipper demanded.
“Yes! Yes!” Marcus howled.
“Then you’re enslaved. Kneel before me!” Tipper directed.
Marcel did as he told, not thinking about it. Tipper went over to where he had prepared a double loop of light rope and collected it, then circled around behind Marcel and tied off his wrists. Marcel was totally taken by surprise!
“What...?” Marcel yelped.
“You’re bound now, slave!” Tipper declared. “You look like a bitch in that dress and Marcella is a bitch name, so you must be a bitch! You fight like a bitch.” Tipper lowered his briefs, exposing his erection. “Let’s see if you suck like a bitch!”
“Hey!” Marcel yelped.
SMACK! “Shut the fuck up and SUCK!” Tipper demanded.
“No!”
SMACK!
“OW!”
SMACK!
“Okay! Okay!” Marcel opened his mouth ... and Tipper drove his dick inside!
“Ulp!” Marcel gurgled.
“SUCK!” Tipper demanded, but he held still so the boy could get used to Tipper’s cock in his young mouth. Fortunately, Tipper wasn’t gigantically hung, because after that moment – after Marcel settled down some and got control – Tipper started fucking his face!
It didn’t go on long – Tipper was too charged up – but it was an eternity to Marcel! And at the end, Tipper’s dick spewed goo into Marcel’s mouth! Marcel choked and gagged, and Tipper slapped him again, yelling, “Swallow it, bitch! Swallow my cum!” Then he pushed Marcel over on his side. Marcel’s head bounced off the floor and he lay there crying.
As a result, Marcel didn’t see Tipper go over to the stash of items the gang kept there and collect the lube. Marcel’s first intimation that there was more to come was when Tipper grabbed him by the hips and put him on his knees with his head down on the dirty mattress the gang had placed there!
“No! No!” Marcel squalled as rough, slimy fingers probed his bunghole. “What are you doing! You can’t do that! No!”
“Watch me!” Tipper retorted, and one and then two of his fingers forced their way past Marcel’s cringing sphincter. Marcel tried to stop it, but that only made it hurt more!
“Help! Help me!” Marcel yelled, but Tipper reached up and slapped him some more, yelling, “Shut up! No one can hear you but me and you’re pissing me off!”
Then the REAL ordeal began, as Tipper forced his cock into Marcel’s tiny anus! Marcel howled and wailed, and Tipper, unconcerned, let him. It didn’t matter – Tipper didn’t care! All that mattered was watching his cock slowly disappear into Marcel’s hot, tight ass!
It hurt like Hell! It hurt at Marcel’s opening as it fought to keep the intruder out, and after it got in a ways, it hurt him inside, too! But Tipper kept pushing. After a while, he seemed satisfied and started backing out, and Marcel sighed, relieved – but he didn’t take his dick all the way out and he pushed it back in! Then he did it a second time, and a third, and a fourth ... after that, Marcel lost count as they got faster and faster.
It got better. It never got good, but the pain backed way off. Marcel knelt there, suffering, enduring it, as Tipper invaded his ass with his cock again and again and again. It took forever until Tipper gasped and grunted and shoved his cock deep and poured splash after splash of his goo deep inside Marcel where there was no way to get it out; Marcel was defiled, ruined! Tipper dumped Marcel over on his side as he withdrew his spent cock and Marcel huddled there, crying.
Tipper got up and wiped his cock off with a rag, then returned to the crying boy. Knowing he needed to defuse the situation, he started working on damage control. Cuddling up behind Marcel, he started rubbing his chest, saying, “Hey, hey, what’s the problem? Guys do this all the time! So do girls! You just started a little early, maybe.”
“Huh? Guys don’t do this!” Marcel howled.
“Sure, they do!” Tipper launched into ‘The Big Lie,’ knowing he would be able to cover it later if he did it right. “If Jackson was here, he would tell you the same! We do this all the time down here! I can show you videos of guys doing it – it’s normal!”
“No, it can’t be!” Marcel croaked. “It HURTS! BAD!”
Tipper waved it off. “That’s because it was the first time. Hey, I thought you were a big boy! Can’t you hang? You’re acting like a pussy! You don’t want me to tell Jackson that you were a pussy about it, do you?”
“But it hurt!” Marcel exclaimed.
“Look, it ALWAYS hurts at the start, until you learn how to open up. You were fighting me the whole time, you know? THAT’s why it hurt! You need to relax and deal with it! It settled down some after a while, didn’t it?” Tipper queried.
“Well, yeah...”
“A lot of guys like it, but you have to let go and relax and enjoy it. Your brother likes it...”
“No way!”
“Well, part of your confusion here is because you KNOW how it is: everybody talks about how nasty it is in public and pretends they don’t do it. It’s like jerking off, you know? You don’t tell people you jerk off. Hell, if somebody knows you jerk off for sure, it’s probably because you’re fucking each other!” Tipper declared. “Fucking is super-secret, and NOBODY admits they’re doing it! Guys that do are generally lying about it, trying to get famous, you know?” Tipper explained, continuing to spin-doctor things for the adolescent. “Nobody wants to admit they’re somebody’s bitch in public, because there is a stigma attached – everybody will put you down, BAD – so everybody lies. YOU don’t want to say a word to ANYBODY about being my bitch, because the whole rest of the time you’re in school will be a living Hell! This is our secret – yours and mine – not even something you can admit to Jackson, because it would embarrass him, and if the secret got out, it would fuck HIM over, too!”
“I don’t wanna be your bitch!” Marcel whined.
“Well, it’s too late, because you ARE and YOU know and I know – and if you want it to STAY that way, you’re gonna CONTINUE to be my bitch! Understand?” Tipper shook Marcel, taking off the kid gloves.
Marcel began to cry hopelessly.
“Look, you’re looking at this wrong!” Tipper insisted. “Gimme a minute.”
He’d come prepared; he fished a laptop out of the stack of stuff he’d hidden in the mill for this and fired it up. Once it was going, he queued up a gay video and played it for Marcel, sitting him up and putting it on his lap and wrapping himself behind the boy so he could rub and caress him and calm him down. He untied the boy’s hands and took it easy on him, cuddling him while presenting the images of young twinks and daddies fucking and sucking. After a while, he reached around Marcel and began rubbing his still somewhat scrawny erection.
Marcel sat ogling the video, which was VERY hard to refute! They were doing it! Black guys, white guys ... There wasn’t anybody Marcel’s age, but there were some pretty small guys being ridden by some pretty BIG guys!
“See? They LOVE that shit!” Tipper murmured in his ear. He sat encouraging the pre-teen until he was confused. When the first video was over, Tipper started a second, saying, “You’re my bitch, and you’re gonna be SPECIAL!” The video featured transvestites servicing males – all hot-looking pseudo-females, most of whom were either black or Brazilian. “See? You’re gonna love it.”
Tipper stepped up the caresses and started kissing Marcel’s neck and shoulders. Marcel was dazed and confused – and aroused. He couldn’t shoot yet, but Tipper’s knowing hands on his cock drove him wild, and he had a couple of incredible, mind-blowing bursts of pleasure from the combination of the video and Tipper’s manipulations – dry cums. He had no idea where they came from, but they robbed him of his will to fight.
Tipper got hard and Marcel was cooperating, so he decided that there was no time like the present to get another nut! He took the laptop and set it to the side and gently pushed Marcel forward off his lap, rotating him onto his back so he could watch the video by turning his head.