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Breaking Ryan Down to Nothing by kyle321@hotmail.com



Breaking Ryan Down to Nothing


"I love hot raunchy fiction, which is exactly what this story is. The characters aren't real and any resemblance the characters have with real people are entirely random and coincidental. Having said that, please write to me and tell me your thoughts: kyle321@hotmail.com"


Breaking Ryan Down to Nothing

I first met Ryan at a bus stop. As it turns out, we rode the same bus to work everyday. We live in a quiet neighborhood near San Francisco's Golden Gate Park. I had noticed him before he noticed me; him being straight, that doesn't surprise me. It didn't take me long to realize that Ryan always dressed impeccably neat: pressed pants, pressed shirt; even those days when he dressed down--teenage fads like baggy jeans and over-sized t-shirts--Ryan looked presentable. He cared about his appearance. He was a handsome devil, too. Standing about 5'7, he was lean from regular work outs--he played school sports--with brown hair, brown eyes, and sharp facial features. Only 28, Ryan was already a creature of routine. He always brought a leather briefcase over his shoulder with him, showing up at 8:35 a.m. like clockwork to catch the city bus to school. Generally, he brought a newspaper, skipping ahead to the sports section. As he read it, I nonchalantly would study him, his features, his package, his stance. I loved it when he wore pleats. I would study his cock through his pants--a favorite pastime of mine. But I could never get a fix on its size.

"Can I read the sports section?"

"Sure."

Then I introduced myself.

"I'm Max," I said.

"I'm Ryan," he said.

We grew to be acquaintances, Ryan and I. We did laundry at the same laundry mat and on that occasional Sunday afternoon we would end up in there together, just chatting. Ryan was a good kid: doing laundry was his way of helping his live-in girlfriend. We rode the same bus. Occasionally, we even started running together. He was in excellent shape. He was handsome, friendly, cordial, nice. Ryan was mature, polite, and yet naive and green. And hopelessly heterosexual. He liked me, that's for sure, but only as a friend. He was one of those heterosexual guys who was so self-confident that it never bothered him to hang out with gay people. Never mind. A guy's heterosexuality should never be a deterrent.

Through our conversations, through our working out together, I realized that Ryan was entirely composed at all times. Not only were his pants always pressed, his LIFE was neatly pressed. He had a confidence about him that came from having goals for his life and capably striving for them; an excellent challenge. With every friendly gesture of Ryan's, with every conversation about sports, I became more captivated by him. And more determined to break him down.

I prepared for Ryan's special treatment with the precision he must have led his life with. I put everything in place around my apartment. Made my bed and set up the video camera facing my bed, with a stack of new tapes set neatly next to it, and one in and ready to go. I dressed as if I were going to work. And then I called him. It was Friday morning, 8:30 am. I called him and asked him to come over right away, that something important was going on. I knew that this week Ryan's girlfriend was out of town, and wouldn't be back until Tuesday. I needed to talk to him, I told him. Friday. A few of his coworkers would miss him, but then, since most of his family was back East, I would have until Monday to complete my task. Perfect. I knew if Ryan made the mistake of showing up that he would never ever be the same again.

My buzzer rang, and I immediately buzzed him in.

"Hey what's up?" he asked. I closed the door behind him, locked it and grinned. "What?"

I answered his question with a knee in the stomach, quite hard. He doubled over immediately and began coughing, gagging, gasping for air. I grabbed him by his still neatly parted hair and dragged him into my bedroom.

"Why?" he managed. I answered this question with two quick, hard punches to his abdomen. When he stopped coughing from those blows, he was strapped spread eagle in my bed, face up. Still fully clothed. I took a few quick instant polaroids for the "before" look. I turned the video recorder on, and began recording Ryan's ordeal...

"Your pants got a little wrinkled," I said. I was holding an iron, plugged in with an extension cord, set on the lowest setting. The lowest setting never helps clothes, too cool for that. But it could certainly cause a person pain. "I want to iron them for you" I said. "Please, let me go" he said. I loved the sound of him asking me for something. Pretty soon he would be begging. I would make sure of it. I got on the bed between his legs, and pressed the hot iron right on his crotch, where his beautiful cock bulge was, hopeless. Ryan's eyes grew large as he began to feel the heat through his pants. God, at that point I really wished I knew what kind of underwear he wore. But I had self-discipline. Patience, all in due time. As the heat passed from the iron through his pants and underwear to his cock and balls, he began to squirm. His hips jutted beautifully back and forth, his pelvis twisted beautifully in a vain attempt to get out from under the iron, which I held in place. I loved that moment. I loved watching his face contort in pain as the heat became too much. I loved the look of fear as he wondered how hot it would get, how long I would leave it there. I had been practicing. I knew how long I could leave it. I had to be careful. I wanted him to feel excruciating pain, but I didn't want to blister his cock and balls. Not yet anyway. Sweat gathered on his brow. His breathing grew heavy. And his voice cracked as he began to beg me to stop. He begged uncontrollably. My dick became fully erect with the sound of his begging, the sight of him squirming. He pulled against the satin ropes which held him in place, but to no avail.

I kept the iron in place until Ryan began to scream. "Yes," I said. "Scream." I wanted to hear him come undone. I wanted to hear this pressed, neat, together young kid abandon his "go-get-'em" personality for undisciplined panic, for undignified screaming. I wanted this successful, winning personality to come unraveled from the center out. And I was getting exactly that. Ryan let out a scream, "Please stop, please!" His voice became a little high pitched, betraying that fact that he was still a teenager. He continued, "Please oh god please! Take it off, it hurts. Take it off, take it off! Please, please! Take it off!" He increased his struggling, which just turned me on all the more. I waited until Ryan's screaming and pleading crescendoed into panic. Undignified panic born of pain and the fear of increased pain.

"Okay," I said, and I removed the iron from his crotch. His face remained cringed. Making him panic was a great break-through. It brought me closer to finally breaking him as a person. But I knew my task was not yet complete. Minor punishment like that could turn just cultivate self-righteous anger in him if I didn't follow through and break him entirely. Time to pick up speed. I walked over to the dresser and took out a pill which I had secured just for this occasion. I filled a glass with water and approached Ryan, still bound in the bed, still in a mild amount of pain from the punishment I gave his cock. I walked to Ryan and pried open his mouth. I popped the pill in and gave him a drink of water. "If you don't drink it I will cut your throat," I said. Ryan did as he was told.

In about 20 minutes I began feeling Ryan's cock through his pressed pants. It felt nice. Ryan again squirmed, this time in the discomfort of being sexually molested. To his surprise, his cock was getting hard. I grinned a knowing grin. Viagra makes raping guys--gay and straight-- so much more fun. It was an overdose by any standards, but then again, I wasn't exactly concerned with his long-term health...When his dick was fully hard, jutting up in his pants and off to the side a little bit, I looked him in the eyes, I grabbed his cock through his pants, and squeezed, really hard. He cringed again in pain. "Stop," he said. "Tell me first what you are."

"What?"

"Tell me that you are a filthy cum eating pussyboy"

"What? Let me go!"

I squeezed harder.

"AAh!" he yelled in pain.

"Tell me that you are a filthy cum eating pussyboy." "Okay, I'm a cum eating filthy pussyboy!" he yelled.

"Again," I commanded.

"I'm a cum eating filthy pussyboy."

"What else? Use your imagination."

He paused. I could tell he wasn't used to thinking so trashy. That's okay. He was trashy to the core. He just needed to have it brought out. I squeezed his cock again, very hard, twisting. "What else are you, whore!" I yelled.

"A whore!"

"And?"

"A pussyboy."

"And?"

"A cocksucker."

Good enough. I released his cock and violently ripped his shirt from his body. I immediately placed a nipple clamp on each of his beautiful nipples. I bitch slapped his face a few times. Then it was time.

I opened his fly. I reached in and slid my hands under his underpants and felt his hard cock--skin on skin--for the first time. I pulled his pants and underpants down to his knees and admired him. Bound, helpless, erect, exposed. Would you believe it? Even his pubes were neat!

"Ryan, I am going to break you," I said.

"Why?" he asked, fear and disbelief in his voice.

"Because you need it, and because I can," I replied. "If you do as I say, you will probably live to walk out of here, is that understood?"

"Yes."

I could see that he was ashamed at his predicament, and at how out of control he was.

"Are you going to obey me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I've decided to give you some choices, Ryan. You get to pick the order of what it is that will happen to you next. Listen carefully. Everything will happen, but you can choose the order. The choices are this: cock punishment, getting fucked in the ass, getting face fucked, or general humiliation. Which will it be?"

Ryan looked at me, wide-eyed and in disbelief. Sweat was gathered on his brow. He didn't answer, so I bitch slapped him four times, hard. "Which will it be?!" I demanded.

"Humiliation..." he answered his eyes already downcast.

Humiliation; I wasn't surprised. There's no way he could have known what I had in mind. "Very good," I said. I took a ruler and measured his still hard cock. 7.5 inches, not bad. But I didn't tell Ryan. "Now tell me the length of your cock, Ryan." He looked puzzled. "You've measured it before, I know, so tell me."

"I never..." SMACK right on his cock with my open palm. "Uhh" he groaned.

"How long?"

"Uh, 7 maybe 8 inches," he said.

"So you have measured it before, yes?"

"Yes, he admitted."

I pulled my pants down and sat on his face, quite without warning. "Lick my asshole." He paused. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Right on his cock. Not surprisingly, I felt his tongue licking my asshole.

"When was the last time you jacked off, Ryan, and DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!" I commanded.

"Yesterday..." he offered.

"Keep licking," I said. He continued to lick my ass. We continued this way for about an hour, with him licking my asshole while I asked him personal, intimate questions. I would sometimes repeat questions to ensure that he wasn't making things up, to screen out contradictions. If he lied, at least he was smart enough to be consistent. I doubt that he lied, though, because who could think straight under these circumstances?

When I was done sitting on his face, I took out a razor and shaving cream. I lathered up his armpits and legs, chest and cock and balls, butt and arms, and shaved every bit of hair off of his body, with the exception of his head. It took a good 45 minutes, and I was very careful. I cherished being able to study all the details of his body up close.

"What next? Cock torture? Face fucking? Or ass fucking?" I asked. Ryan paused again. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK on his cock. He would learn to answer me right away.

"Uh, torture, no wait, God, I don't know..." He trembled uncontrollably. Excellent.

"Answer me!" I yelled. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK on his still hard cock. I had already forced him to come undone. But the continued stress would finally, eventually break him, break him deep down inside.

"This isn't happening..." he said. I snatched a knife off of the stand next to the bed. I pressed it to his throat.

"I can torture and fuck your dead body, Ryan, is that what you want? Or are you going to answer me?"

"Face fuck me" he said in a whisper. I sprung into action, shoving my own seven-inch tool into his mouth. I thrust in and out, listening to him gag, watching the expression on his face contort as he struggled to handle my cock. He gagged and coughed. Even spat up a little. I face fucked his gorgeous face vigorously, slamming my cock down his throat again and again. Ryan had beautiful full lips. I was so excited by the whole ordeal, that, had he been my lover I would have worried that coming too soon would ruin his pleasure. But that wasn't my concern today. Just before I came, I gave some more instructions. "Ryan, I'm gonna cum on your tongue, and I want you to swallow it all, do you understand?" I asked. He grunted "Yes," as best he could with my cock still shoved in his mouth. I fucked his face some more, and when I finally came, I made sure every drop of it was on his tongue. I pulled my cock out. "Swallow, you cunt" I said. Ryan did as he was told with a wonderful look of disgust on his face.

I went to the kitchen and got a drink of water. Upon my return, I noticed the tape was about to run out in the video camera. Ryan was still struggling in the bed, pulling against the ropes. I changed the tape, and returned my attention to the handsome fucking whore bound in my bed. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was thoroughly humiliated, defeated. Even broken. But I wasn't done. Like a broken vase, each piece can still be broken into smaller pieces, until all that remains is fine, smooth, dust. And that is what would be left of Ryan's spirit.

"Two choices. I can torture your cock or fuck your ass," I said. "Which will it be?" Ryan learned to answer right away. "Fuck me," he whispered, barely audible, eyes averted.

"Okay," I said. But first... I couldn't resist anymore, I went down on his cock, licking, sucking, licking, feeling, stroking his still hard cock. My god, it drove me wild. He writhed in pleasure/humiliation. But he didn't have to worry, he wasn't going to come just yet. I lubed my cock and his ass with hand lotion and positioned my cock at his hole. I looked at his face. "Look me in the eyes, Ryan" I commanded. He did. "Good. Now don't look away. Keep looking me in the eyes." He did as he was told, though he was still visibly nervous, trembling. Without warning I thrust my cock all the way up his young, tight, virgin ass in one hard drive. Ryan let out an unintelligible howl as I knew my cock was causing him immense pain. He pulled involuntarily against the ropes. His ass was so fucking tight. This is how it should be. My cock getting pleasure by the same act causing him pain. And so it was. Ryan's face immediately cringed. I continued to study his face, waiting for his eyes to reconnect with mine. Eventually, when some of the pain subsided, he re-focussed his look into my eyes. His eyes were pleading with me to stop. But I didn't. Once he was looking me in the eyes again, I began my gradual pumping crescendo, pumping in and out of him. I relaxed, allowing my body to fall onto his. My cock was drilling him and I could feel his hard cock on my belly, his chest against mine. It was beautiful. 10...20...30 minutes later I had drawn close to orgasm some 3 times, but stopped myself. This was going to last. 40 minutes of fucking and I was ready to come. I banged him hard. I fucked him so hard the bed was creaking and cracking, his head was smashing against the headboard, and his legs were getting rope burn by the ropes which I had made taught by my fucking. I came deep inside of him.

I collapsed on top of him, catching my breath. He was bleeding a little down there. It was fantastic.

"Ryan?"

"Yes?"

"What do you say?"

"What?"

"What do you say, Ryan?"

Puzzled, Ryan finally offered "Thank you."

"Yes, you're welcome, and you'll get much more."

I pulled my cock out and began to assemble things for his torture session. Clothes pins. Ben gay. Candles. Rubber bands. A wooden spoon. And leather driving gloves. But at this point I couldn't resist. I decided to make him come for me first. I lubed his cock and began to suck. Ryan squirmed, jutting his hips and pelvis back into the bed in a useless attempt to pull his hard cock out of my mouth, away from my hungry mouth. I used my hand to stroke his cock at the base, while I licked, sucked and teased his beautifully and perfectly shaped cock. His breathing became heavy. I knew it wouldn't be long to make this fucking punk come. I was working against his nerves. But it isn't my personality to shy away from a challenge. 10...12...15 minutes later and he showed the first signs of orgasm. His cock was hard as steel. His breathing was heavy and quick at the same time. His leg muscles were tense. Then it happened. Ryan shot his thick and creamy load of come into my mouth, and I relished it, sucking every drop from him. I swished it around in my mouth for a moment or two, then swallowed. Ryan was mine. I was in him now and he was in me. Permanently. We had digested each other's seed. It was beautiful.

Ryan's cock began to get soft. Even Viagra has its limits. It went about 2/3 erect. That was fine. Torture time. I put on the leather driving gloves and jerked his already sensitive cock, gripping it hard. He squirmed in bed. At first it was just supersensitivity from overworking and a recent orgasm. But then, as I continued, the leather began to rub his cock raw. It was awesome. "Stop," he said, "please."

It turned me on to hear him beg. I continued for quite a while, pulling, twisting, yanking on his raw and punished cock. Eventually my hand grew tired. Time to switch strategies. I grabbed the ben-gay and smoothed it all over his newly shaved balls. I knew that the oil of wintergreen would eventually cause a chemical burn on even the toughest skin. But on Ryan's newly shaved scrotum? It went to work immediately. And Ryan performed perfectly. He squirmed and begged me to stop, to get if off of him. I loved hearing him beg, that stupid fucking whore. I took the rubber bands and put one tightly around the base of his scrotum, like a noose around his balls. I secured it tightly. After that I flicked his balls with my fingers for, I don't know, maybe 20 minutes. Then, quite without warning, I grabbed both balls and squeezed HARD. Ryan screamed. Tears welled up in his eyes. At that moment I knew I had my chance. I squeezed and twisted his balls until the tears in his eyes flowed freely down his cheeks. Yes. Another break through. Excellent. I put more ben-gay on his balls and turned my attention to his cock again. Still 2/3 erect, I forced him to swallow yet another Viagra. The reaction was quicker this time, and his cock was soon fully hard. I took another rubber band and wound it very tightly around the base of his shaft. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK on his cock. With each smack he squirmed. A small bruise formed at the base of his beautiful cock where the rubber band was. Another formed on his scrotum, also following the traces of the band. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK on his cock. Tears ran freely down his face.

I reached up and removed the tit clamps. I had almost forgotten they were there. The blood rushing back into his tortured nipples was quite a surprisingly painful sensation, I'm sure, since Ryan let out a moan. At that moment I couldn't take it any more. I kissed him hard, jamming my tongue down his throat. We kissed for some time, and then I returned my attention to torture. I lit the candle and in a minute I had enough wax for some real fun. I smothered his nipples and balls in wax, waited for the wax to solidify, then I ripped it off quickly, making Ryan cringe yet again, and making his balls and nipples red and raw. I clipped the clothes pins on all over his balls and as always, paid attention to him squirming and writhing in pain. Time to increase the pain. I picked up the wooden spoon. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. Each time I studied his face as I smacked him. The pain seemed to increase with each hit. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. It was fabulous. He continued to struggle and try to get away. But it was no use. He was captured. He was mine. "What are you Ryan?" I asked.

"A whore."

"Good."

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK...

I fucked Ryan three more times that night, cumming up his ass and in his mouth, and I forced him to come one more time. His cock was red and puffy and raw, so were his balls (I removed the rubber bands at about 4 am.) And when I woke up at about 9 Saturday morning, he was awake, pulling at the ropes. I put in a new the video cassette and pressed play/record. I re-tied the restraints, and picked up the phone. I called the local leather line. "Okay guys, here's the scoop. I've got an unwilling captive in my bed, tied and punished. I've used him all night, but he's yours now if you want him. You can fuck him in my bed..."

Saturday was hell for Ryan. His dick was sucked and prodded by maybe 9 different guys. He was fucked by about 14--with three of them fucking him several times. And Ryan was forced to suck the dicks of maybe 10 guys, swallowing a lot of cum.

He was a used and wasted little prick.

I got what I wanted. Ryan was totally broken, well before the ninth guy fucked him. Tears ran freely down his. He kept mumbling to himself over and over again. "Please... stop... please... please... stop..." He kept mumbling, that is, unless a cock was in his mouth.

I kept Ryan to myself on Sunday, the day I had decided to release him. Ryan didn't know, though. He didn't deserve to know. I gave Ryan another Viagra, and I continued to torture and punish his cock and balls for hours. I twisted, pulled, spanked, and waxed him. I did it again and again and again. I continued to make him scream, to make him beg... When he was coherent enough to even say anything, I loved to hear him Saying, "Please. Please. Stop." I fucked Ryan another 4 times. And I made him cum one more time. I was glad I hadn't done permanent damage to his ability to have an orgasm.

I took a black permanent marker and began the final act of Ryan's humiliation. I wrote degrading words all over his body. "I suck dick" on his face. "Come Sponge" on his chest. "Please fuck my ass" on his back. And so on, and so on. Ryan was bewildered and exhausted. I loaded him in my car late that night, and drove him to the seedy part of town. I loaded him, naked, into a 25 cent porn booth, naked, hands and ankles bound, and left him.


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