AI writes a story

Tecpatl

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I’ve been experimenting with using Artificial Intelligence to write stories for me. This is one. Hope you enjoy.
And since I am usually locked out of this site, you can reach me at Tecpatl2@protonmail.com
Let me know if you enjoy.

No other customers were in the shop when the handsome stranger walked in. He wore a tight t shirt that showed off his muscled chest. He had a slight scruff of a beard and looked mid thirties. Just Rob’s type. Their eyes met and they both felt a jolt of lust. As Rob made the man’s order - Cameron was the name he gave - he could feel the stranger’s eyes checking out his ass, his body. He wondered if Cameron liked to beat his partners during sex. He hoped so. He asked for a break after Cameron left with his latte, and was in the alley behind the shop smoking a cigarette and searching Grindr for Cameron when he heard footsteps coming near. He looked up to see Cameron standing next to him.

Cameron said to him "you wanna come home with me now?" Rob said yes and told him to drive down one more block while Rob finished his smoke then give him his address and he would go pick up his car at the coffee shop and meet him there. Rob followed Cameron out to the lakefront suburb where Cameron lived alone and found the house Cameron indicated.

Cameron greeted him at the door and took him downstairs to a small room set up with handcuffs hanging from the wall, a bed, dresser. On top of the dresser were some sex toys, dildos, lube, ropes, whip, gloves, condoms and knife. It was clear what this place was. And who used it and who played the dominant and who the submissive role. The walls were also lined with newspaper clippings: news stories about men murdered by strangers. Men raped by them and then killed, throats slit or heads bludgeoned.

"That's what I intend to do with you," said Cameron, indicating the headline stories of death on the wall. "I intend to beat and fuck and kill you."

Rob laughed. He did not take Cameron seriously, thinking it was all part of the rough game Cameron was playing with him. As scared as Rob may have been, he didn't think Cameron would really kill him. That wasn't the plan, although Cameron did not let him know that the plan was different than Rob thought it was. They both knew exactly where their sexual roles were, Rob as the bottom, the one getting fucked, the one tied up, Cameron the top, the one fucking.

And they also knew what was involved with Rob giving up his body, surrendering his power to Cameron: Rob had to trust Cameron completely, that even though Cameron intended to hurt him he would not hurt Rob worse than Rob could bear and that Cameron would stop hurting Rob when Rob wanted Cameron to stop hurting him, even if that meant that Cameron hadn't quite fucked Rob long enough or hard enough or beaten him hard enough.

Rob liked rough games with strangers and he trusted them to treat him better than they might treat him otherwise, like another human being instead of punching him in the face. When the strangers hit him and fucked him and bound his wrists they were not really hurting him because he knew they would stop before he stopped liking it. It was all just pretend after all and that was how rough games worked, and it gave Rob, an aggressive guy, an outlet for some of his hostility that way.

Cameron got out a bottle of whisky from the shelf under the bed. He poured himself two fingers in a shot glass. He poured some for Rob as well. Best to get the boy relaxed for what was to come. Cameron had decided on the drive home that Rob was the boy, his first kill. He sensed somehow that somehow Rob would enjoy it. And Cameron had been waiting for the right time to indulge his darkest fantasies.

The whiskey tasted harsh in Rob's mouth, he had never drank much harder alcohol since he was only twenty-one but he sipped it because Cameron had told him to. It seemed best to follow Cameron's orders, Rob was sure Cameron knew more about playing rough than Rob did. A shiver went up his spine. What exactly was it Cameron intended to do with him? Rope and dildos and condoms are not necessarily safe or reassuring things either. But Rob knew how to take care of himself. In dangerous situations Rob has no fear of telling men to "fuck off" if he feels they will cause him real trouble.

Cameron brought the supplies over: ropes, blindfold, cock ring, lubricant, and condoms. Rob began to undress. Cameron took the items from his hand one at a time, and set them down beside them, arranging them neatly and efficiently on the night table. He ordered Rob to hold his wrists together. Rob found that he liked being commanded by this stranger; it was exciting being taken over so forcefully by someone else. His mind raced through his options for resistance. None really fit at the moment, although he might feel differently soon. If push came to shove he would say his safeword - blueberry pie - and leave if he needed to.

It wouldn't come to that though. Rob knew these games could get intense but they were usually just that - games. He trusted Cameron to be careful with him and to respect Rob's limits, whatever they might be tonight. It would still be great to see what a guy who really meant it wanted to do with him. To test his own limits to hurt as well as to endure hurt, both kinds of pain - being bound to receive blows and being free to swing back.

Rob lay naked now with his hands held out towards Cameron in the space between the headboard and the mattress. Cameron fastened the cuffs around his wrists and tied the rope to the eye hooks embedded in the bed frame, forcing Rob to lift his hands above his head and spread apart his thighs. Rob tried to squirm away, testing the bonds. He pulled on the handcuffs which dug into the tender undersides of his wrists and burned there like bands of fire. The knots in the ropes stayed secure. He was bound. He felt something rise within him, an elation or terror that he could not name.

He knew now that he had to take a risk of giving in completely to Cameron, letting himself go in response to whatever Cameron did. There was no other way of making this work other than putting his body into Cameron's control, even with the possibility of Cameron killing him. Rob knew there is always a chance he could end up dead at the hands of any stranger.

Cameron said "Do you believe I can make your ass and mouth mine?" "Yes," whispered Rob, because he was already Cameron's, lying flat on his back, limbs open and ready for use.

He lay on his back looking up at the man standing above him. Their eyes locked onto each other's: black meeting blue and seeing each other for a moment. They both saw the same thing in the other: fear mixed with lust and curiosity and defiance, with a little hint of danger. Their breaths mingled.

"If I put my cock inside your asshole and fuck you so hard it hurts would you be able to take it without saying a word until I allowed you to talk again? How much pain would you be able to bear without talking?"

Rob's whole body throbbed. That was just what he wanted, to suffer. But he knew that if it hurt too badly he might scream and ask Cameron to stop or say his safeword or simply get up and walk away from this madman. What would happen if he gave in to the sensation entirely, if he stopped trying to defend himself and let the waves of pain and pleasure crash over him until he drowned under them, and kept his silence throughout? What would it take to endure such a test? What would he experience if he passed it?

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It seemed the only option. Cameron smiled. The rules had been set. As Rob watched, Cameron picked up the condoms. He reached out to grab Rob's cock with his other hand. Forcing the cock ring into place, Cameron slid his palm down Rob's shaft. When Cameron touched his balls Rob shuddered. His body began to move against the ropes despite his intention to stay still, responding automatically to Cameron's touch.

"I think I like to hurt you," whispered Cameron into Rob's ear, sending chills down Rob's spine. Cameron pressed a knee between Rob's legs, forcing them apart, his fingers probing Rob's hole. Cameron's grip was unyielding as he slipped a finger into Rob, pushing deeper until it brushed Rob's prostate. The contact sent electric sensations up and down Rob's cock.

Cameron pulled back a moment and then thrust again into Rob's ass, filling him. Rob squirmed to evade the invasion. Cameron continued the torment with another finger, stretching him, making him gasp, driving him closer to his peak. Cameron twisted and scissored his fingers, pulling apart Rob's opening.

The stimulation was almost too much to bear and Rob cried out. This only made Cameron press harder on Rob's sweet spot, until Rob's dick ached and tears sprang to his eyes from the intensity of the sensation. Rob's balls were heavy, swollen with semen. Each thrust filled Rob's belly with hot desire. With every second that went by, he knew his climax would be more powerful than before.

A third finger joined the first two in spreading open Rob's tight little pucker, but there was still an emptiness deep within him begging to be filled. He rocked his hips, urging Cameron to put his entire hand inside. Instead Cameron withdrew altogether, leaving Rob desperate, panting for relief.

When Cameron finally moved towards Rob's entrance, Rob felt his whole body tremble, and he wondered what was next, unable to look. The blunt end of the dildo nudged his hole, cool silicone slipping inside easily enough due to the earlier prep, the plug sliding forward until the flared base was seated just outside his opening, his stretched asshole clenched tightly around it. But the toy only seemed to intensify his ache for Cameron's cock. Rob whimpered softly and tried to shift his body, to pull away from or push himself against the device, but his limbs were bound fast and his movements accomplished nothing except causing friction to his oversensitized nerves. He moaned.

"Shh," whispered Cameron, leaning over him again. "No whining, slut." The roughness of his voice thrilled Rob as he imagined Cameron calling him 'slut' as he fucked Rob from behind, one hand holding Rob's wrists together at the small of his back and the other gripping Rob's long hair tightly, pulling him back to meet each savage thrust into his ass. How much pain could Rob take, anyway?

Rob lay still for what seemed like hours but probably lasted only minutes, every part of him aching to be touched, every muscle tensed, anticipating further abuse. He closed his eyes, trying to will the burning tension out of his system, concentrating instead on the steady in-and-out of his breathing, the rapid pounding of his heart, and the sounds of the room: Cameron pacing around, moving items around on the dresser. When he opened his eyes again the lights had been dimmed slightly and he could barely make out Cameron crouched next to him on the bed, something shiny held in one hand, a length of rope coiled loosely over the other forearm. Cameron shifted the knife to his other hand as his fingers traced the shape of Rob's jaw.

"I bet you don't know how good I'll make you feel right before you die," he said quietly as he brought the blade closer to Rob's face. Rob stared straight ahead as he felt the cool metal trace his cheekbone, drawing the tip delicately along his features without ever cutting deep enough to draw blood. "Don't you worry," continued Cameron, running his finger down Rob's neck and circling his Adam's apple as though to slice it open. "You won't know anything is wrong until I've filled your asshole with my seed," he leaned forward to whisper in Rob's ear, and then added, "And even then, you won't care. You'll be so fucking high on the adrenaline, the excitement of it all that by the time you realize something has changed you'll already be gone and nothing matters anymore."

It didn't make sense - why would someone want to fuck and kill him? What was he worth anyway, just a barista slinging lattes and mochas at the counter, living paycheck to paycheck while working toward a degree that might not actually help him get the kind of job that could support him in any meaningful way. Why bother wasting precious moments of existence on one more quick hookup with some random guy, risking arrest or worse. It couldn't be worth dying for; there must have been easier marks out there, surely it wasn't him.

The words echoed through his head, taunting him with their absurdity: I bet you don't know how good I'll make you feel right before you die, and yet Rob knew somehow, on a bone-deep level beyond any conscious thought, that Cameron had spoken true. This time would be different because Rob was giving himself entirely, surrendering all control, leaving everything in the hands of a stranger with a knife and a hard cock, and when the knife finally found its way to his beating heart he would welcome it because he'd already reached that place where sensation overtook rational thought, and only sensation mattered - every touch magnified to impossible heights, sending sparks shooting up and down his spine, across his nerve endings, all the way through his body from the ends of each individual hair follicle to the soles of his feet and fingers. All he could do now was hold on and ride out the intensity.

So when Cameron asked "How well can you take a fist, slut?" all he could do was gasp out "Not as well as I need to, sir," before he felt Cameron's fingers sliding inside once more, probing his hole until three digits were stretching him wider than ever before and his cries were loud enough to drown out the music still pounding over the speakers. And when Cameron growled at him to shut up and started using his free hand to pinch and tease at Rob's nipples and stroke his thighs roughly, his nails leaving angry red lines on Rob's pale skin, all he could do was try to remain coherent despite the conflicting signals bombarding him - pain mixed with pleasure in a sensual cocktail more intoxicating than any liquor he'd ever tasted.

He was already close again, even harder after his recent edging. His ass clenched around Cameron's wrist, trying desperately to pull those deft digits even deeper as they continued teasing along his inner walls, occasionally grazing his sweet spot but not nearly often or intensely enough for him to get any relief from it. Rob bit into his forearm, struggling against both bonds and rising passion.

Cameron pulled his fingers away for the last time, taking extra care to curl them slightly as he withdrew so the edges caught just right at the rim of Rob's stretched asshole, drawing new cries from Rob as Rob struggled to stay silent - Cameron had said no talking remember? But it was hard to keep quiet when everything seemed too intense, like there'd been some change in atmosphere during the brief span between climaxes. He couldn't put a finger on what exactly was different about this moment versus their first round earlier, only that his senses all seemed heightened beyond anything normal (which maybe explained the nearness of another imminent eruption) and he could swear it almost felt like he was floating. Maybe he wasn't getting enough oxygen since every muscle in his body wanted to tense up in anticipation of the final stretch before ecstasy... but if anything the sensation made him want to melt further into Cameron's hold on him instead of tensing up as his primal instincts might have demanded; after all, hadn't they already come this far together tonight? Why stop now, when they'd just begun to understand one another as partners? Partners, huh? Who knew things would work out that way?

Rob watched as Cameron's hand returned bearing another condom packet plus a fourth finger ready to enter alongside the others in order to make room for something bigger. There really wasn't much else going on at this point - other than a few stray drops of sticky wetness oozing sluggishly over Rob's thighs onto the covers below them (and who cared what damage that did given that they weren't likely ever going to return here again). But somehow Rob still found himself anticipating this new intrusion with more eagerness than nervousness regardless of how overwhelming past experience told him it should be feeling right about now: if I take Cameron's entire fist inside then surely it won't matter what comes afterwards! And suddenly it seems perfectly natural, even logical, to reach down along his spine and spread apart his own cheeks - using legs still splayed wide open as well as feet planted firmly in place at either side - in order better to accommodate Cameron's entry despite not having permission yet to move again just because everything else has changed so dramatically already... isn't it only fair?

Rob felt Cameron slide into him. He looked at his lover as best he could while tied down: black hair falling over Cameron's forehead, broad shoulders rippling with lean muscle under brown skin streaked pale by sweat and glistening in dim lighting of bedroom candles lit by Cam earlier during prep time but now forgotten amid rush to consummate desires long pent-up after too many lonely nights spent alone imagining rather than experiencing real touch without realizing just what lay within grasp if only he could find someone willing give him the opportunity to express himself through sex. All of sudden he saw clearly exactly where things would go from there, and everything became clear.

So Rob smiled contentedly as his partner began easing deeper, sliding into him slowly, filling up his empty spaces until there wasn't room left anywhere anymore then pulling almost completely out before thrusting in again even slower - this time forcing way past the tight rim which had barely adapted previously much less been forced any further back beyond knuckles of a hand previously inserted into a hole already stretched farther than ought to be reasonably feasible - so naturally Rob tensed around a cock impossibly large compared to the other objects encountered earlier inside his ass thus far during night: dildo, vibrator, etc. Or was it larger. Or was it the feel of straining, hard flesh inside him that made him tingle with pleasure in every nerve of his body. It was then that Rob decided Cameron could have him, slice him open, rip out his living heart if he wanted. And in a strange moment Rob hoped that after he was dead Cameron would eat his flesh. He wanted to become one with his lover and killer. Something he had only imagined in his fantasies but now wanted in his reality. He was actually hoping that Cameron planned to kill him. He was ready.

Cameron pulled all the fingers of his right hand free from Rob's anus then reached for lube and poured a large amount onto his right hand, coating it. Cameron put the fingers of his right hand together as though trying to pick up water with cupped hands. Cameron pushed his index finger slowly and carefully between Rob's spread buttocks and pressed into Rob's hole until it penetrated. Rob was relaxed from the earlier teasing and from the alcohol he had drunk; he opened easily under Cameron's insistent proddings. Slowly Cameron twisted and slid his finger inside the ring of muscles at the opening of Rob's hole as deep as it would go and rotated it like a screw, loosening and spreading open the sphincters that guard the inner canal. Cameron took another big helping of lube and rubbed more onto his hand. Cameron added his middle finger alongside his first finger in the same hole and once again he worked his fingers, twisting and stretching. Then Cameron started alternately pushing and pulling his two fingers out of the now gaping hole as Rob squirmed and bucked on the bed beneath him. Now when he pushed his fingers back into Rob's warm channel, he could feel himself entering deeper than ever before. After a short time Cameron repeated this whole process again with three lubed-up fingers, adding one additional digit each time, gently and slowly pressing deeper and deeper inside as Rob's ass continued giving way under pressure being applied from without until at last Cameron achieved his goal: the entirety of his clenched hand had disappeared within Rob's rectum. Cameron paused briefly for a second as he took mental stock: "Is everything okay?"

Rob nodded yes, eyes wide open, staring in amazement and wonderment down through his spread legs where their bodies met. What had just transpired felt like nothing else he had ever experienced before or since. All rational thought went out of the window once Cameron entered him, but not because his mind lost track of what was happening. Rather, all previous sensations paled in comparison to sheer ecstasy created by the feeling of fullness inside his gut whenever the other man pumped his fist deeper between Rob’s asscheeks.

He moaned softly...

Cameron pulled out his hand from inside of Rob's anus which remained open and loose after having been penetrated. The ring of muscles there hung limp now, too slack to offer any real resistance to anything that might pass between its borders - including one finger, two fingers, even an entire fist if needed. He watched fascinated at the sight presented before his eyes as a trail of clear fluid leaked from a tiny slit located somewhere inside the boy’s asshole; though whether originating within his guts themselves or not did not matter, since Cameron had decided that there would be a torrent of blood soon, when the boy beneath him came and died under Cameron’s knife at the same time! With the boy dead it wouldn’t matter anyway whether a bit extra spilled out during initial penetration, now would it?

Cameron smiled wickedly thinking how lucky he was to have found someone so perfect for his purposes. He took another look around at all things arranged about the room - every item picked with utmost care in advance. He walked calmly back towards the table near bed containing various assortment instruments neatly set upon the countertop surface where items stood waiting. He picked up the knife. The killing instrument. Yes this was the time. This was the boy. He had been waiting for just the right victim and he could see it in this barista's eyes that he wanted what was coming. And that he would come with the insertion of the knife. And die while climaxing from the sensation it caused along with the thrust of the blade deep into his heart. So he knew it was time. It would not go wrong. How could it? After months of preparation. He held his breath as his hand trembled slightly. Then he breathed again deeply and steadied himself. There was no reason to be nervous now. Things were going exactly as intended so far and should remain so until the conclusion was reached. He turned slowly and began stepping carefully towards the bed again, carrying the deadly metal blade tightly gripped firmly within strong fingers, poised ready to strike downward hard and quick once the boy started to come. It did not take long for him to reach the side of the bed, positioned beside the figure bound motionless stretched upon white cotton sheets laid over the bed. A perfect body lay naked before him awaiting its fate. He imagined a single line drawn across the torso extending between nipples then curved down toward the groin. It called to him to cut, to pull open. He held the knife with tip pointing toward the center of the chest directly above the heart pumping lifeblood through veins coursing beneath soft skin covering the lithe frame spread open and helpless. Cameron brought the knife slowly closer stopping briefly, hovering above smooth pale flesh trembling ever so slightly just beneath the cool air brushing over exposed nipples, taut muscles flexed under pressure generated from being strapped tight onto the mattress underneath by the restraints tying wrists firmly over his head. And now the knife started downwards.

The feeling of having Cameron inside of him pushed Rob even further. The way Cameron touched every inch of skin that he could reach was electrifying. The feel of those rough hands roaming across Rob's body drove all rationality from his mind and replaced it with nothing more than raw carnal desires seeking immediate satisfaction at any price whatsoever without heed for consequence because consequences didn't matter when it came to this moment in particular: everything else paled compared to desire overwhelming thoughts entirely leaving only the urge for release. Even though Cameron told him not talk Rob grunted as Cameron’s cock entered him again. Rob strained harder trying desperately to achieve relief but the ropes cut deeper sinking further binding tighter until there was no hope of gaining the leverage needed to position his hips correctly to take full advantage of the penetration. To get Cameron’s cock to rub against that sweet spot within him and bring release. At this point Rob wasn't thinking coherently. Nothing seemed to matter except getting off. So Rob focused on achieving orgasmic bliss, not thinking about what would happen with his cum, what Cameron said he intended to do. But maybe it was a fantasy, a role play. Or maybe he would really die. It didn’t matter suddenly, only let him cum. The tension built to a crescendo as Rob felt himself approaching the edge of oblivion once again after having nearly fallen off so many times already. He wondered if this was the time or if Cameron would pull out just before … Then it happened...

Rob screamed as pleasure surged through every fiber throughout his body. Cameron slammed the knife deep into Rob’s belly, just at the bottom of his rib cage. He had read about how the Aztecs cut out the living hearts from their victims and he wanted Rob’s beating heart in his hand. When the blade cut into flesh, muscle fibers split apart and tore free while nerve endings shrieked pain signals shooting through synapses straight to the brain processing feedback instantly registering agony causing consciousness itself to start fading away. Cameron pulled hard slicing deeply down along sternum cutting Rob open side to side. Blood sprayed, cum sprayed. Rob thrashed against his bonds but Cameron was sitting on his thighs. His arms were stretched tight. There was nothing to stop Cameron’s hand reaching deep into the bloody wound, searching, grasping for the beating organ in Rob’s chest. It did not take long to find it. Cameron could feel heartbeats rapidly pounding inside the ribs. He squeezed tightly around the thick muscle which convulsed beneath his touch reflexively resisting being held. But he grasped it hard and pulled. With heart freed from between the lungs, Cameron lifted out the wet dripping beating organ triumphantly. He slashed the arteries that held is still connected to the boy beneath him. He heard what sounded like a contented sigh and saw Rob’s eyes focused on his own heart as the beating stilled and the eyes went blank at last. Cameron tossed the now dead heart onto a nearby table ready to cut up then cook over fire later tonight.

As he sat a moment looking upon his conquest, his lover, he felt very calm. He felt powerful. This was what it all had been building toward since he looked in the eyes of the boy making his coffee that afternoon, when chance brought them together. He knew even then that this was the one, the man whom fate had set out for him. He could feel his cock growing hard as he stared at the open corpse stretched naked in front of him.

He climbed back down onto the bed after untying the rope that had kept Rob pinned and bound, lying spread-eagled face up on white sheets smeared red now. He leaned down again across his boyfriend's dead body taking advantage of the opportunity offered up to him. The boy couldn't fight anymore. Nothing stopped him from doing whatever he desired - which included licking every inch of skin available for tasting, starting with his tongue trailing over soft lips parted slightly where they stood half open exposing perfect teeth behind. Then he began to descend lower... Down between parted legs still spread wide apart from earlier when they had first started out getting intimate earlier the in evening prior to ending here atop blood soaked blankets. That made him even hotter somehow, thinking how his semen and saliva mingled with another man's life juices. So he lowered himself once more onto cold flesh that was still warm in spots thanks to recent activity. His tongue traveled further along tracing outlines through the drying blood. Finally reaching destination below navel just above the cock where the tattoo was permanently etched onto pale skin. It read "lucky me" and he knew that this statement applied perfectly: this particular guy seemed lucky enough to get killed during sex instead of being murdered outright. It didn't matter though since Rob would be equally dead regardless, so he could hardly complain either way. Still, it was pretty convenient having someone offer their heart freely; willingly giving consent via actions if not words spoken verbally beforehand. So Cameron continued savoring the flavor left lingering within moist creases around scrotum around the testicles hanging beneath the now flaccid cock.

At last Cameronstood and grasped the knife again, ready to cut Rob’s pecs off like steaks. He wondered if the boy would be glad he was becoming Cameron’s meal. Then he thought how cool it was to eat someone who came all over yourself before dying because of your blade shoved deep inside his chest cavity stabbing repeatedly until finally cutting loose his beating heart from within its cage. he had finally sated his fantasy, but even as he sat at his table, chewing the rare pec steak he had cut from Rob’s corpse, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time. The taste was divine, but more than that he wanted to find another boy to love. He imagined what it would be like to go about normal day to day routine as an upstanding member of society and then secretly hunt and kill a young gay man or twink every couple years or so, keeping only the parts that Cameron loved most: their cocks, assholes and asscheeks with cute tattoos on them saying stuff like, "lucky me." He would never forget this one, though. His name was Robert Johnston Jr., he called himself Rob, and Cameron swore when he masturbated that night under the covers with his face buried deeply against the pillow Rob died on that it would be his first of many.
 
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