Lamar had been wandering around the swamp for hours before making it to the Swamp Shack, a secluded abandoned building in the heart of the swamp. Now, the moon hung low, a sickle of pale light cutting through the black. Nine o’clock. He had three hours before his brother would start calling, before the lies would have to spill from his lips like they always did. 

The shack’s floorboards groaned under his weight as he stepped inside, the door sagging on its hinges behind him. No electricity. No candles. Just the silver-blue glow seeping through the cracks in the walls, painting everything in strokes of ghostly light.

He made his way to the back of the building, to his secret hiding spot—a small, hidden alcove where he kept his most private possessions.

Pulling aside the rotting wood that concealed his stash, he reached in and pulled out his dildo—the one he’d found months ago in the trash of an apartment building while scavenging. It was grimy and worn, but it was his, and it served its purpose.

With a sigh, he stripped off his clothes, the cool air raising goosebumps on his bare skin. He looked down at his crotch—the thick bush of pubic hair so dense that his tiny, soft penis was barely visible beneath it. He hated how small it was, how it seemed to hide away from the world, but it was what he had.

He laid down on the damp floorboards, the wood was cold against his back. He began to touch his tight hole, his fingers tracing over his body, exploring the familiar terrain. He slipped a finger inside his ass, then another, moaning softly as he moved them in and out. Precum leaked from his dick, dripping onto the floor like a slow, steady drip from a leaky faucet.

His fingers found the dildo first. The first touch was hesitant, his fingertips circling the rim of his ass like he was testing a bruise. Then deeper. His breath hitched. The dildo was better than his own hand. He worked it in slowly, his free hand slicking spit down his crack, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. The stretch burned, then melted. His dick twitched—useless, traitorous—but he ignored it. This was how he liked it. 

His hips lifted off the floor, his thighs trembling. The dildo slid in deeper, his own fingers working in tandem, stretching, teasing. A whimper crawled up his throat. He bit it back. Then his body locked mid-thrust, his fingers frozen inside his ass. The dildo slipped from his grip, thudding dully against the wood.

Breathe. Just the wind. Just the—

Another creak.

His head snapped toward the doorway. Nothing. Just the black mouth of the hall, the moonlight carving a silver blade across the threshold. Then—there. A shape. A man. Broad shoulders, a silhouette cut from the dark itself. Lamar’s pulse hammered in his ears.

The stranger didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched.

Lamar’s stomach lurched. He yanked his fingers free, scrabbling for his shorts. “Who the fuck—?”

The stranger stepped back. The floor groaned again.

Lamar lunged upright, his nakedness forgotten. “Get the hell out!” His voice cracked. He sounded like a child. Humiliation burned hotter than fear.

The stranger bolted.

Rage flared white-hot. Lamar snatched his shorts, his movements clumsy, frantic. He didn’t bother with the shoes. The door was already swinging shut as he barreled through it, his bare feet slapping against the damp earth. The night swallowed the stranger whole for a heartbeat—then – there. A flash of pale skin as the man stumbled, his boots kicking up mud.

Lamar tackled him.

They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs. The stranger grunted, twisting beneath him. Lamar’s knees pinned his arms, his fists cocking back—

“Stop! Stop!“

The voice was rough, panicked. Not the growl of a predator. Not yet.

Lamar didn’t loosen his grip. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man’s chest heaved. “Chase. Just—just lookin’ for shelter, man.”

“Here?” Lamar’s fingers dug into the stranger’s wrists. “This ain’t a pit stop, motherfucker. You had to look for this place.”

Chase’s teeth flashed in the dark—a grin or a snarl. “Guess I’m lucky, then.”

Lamar’s grip tightened. “You peepin’ on me?”

Chase snapped back, “Didn’t know I’d get a show.”

Something in Chase’s voice made Lamar’s skin crawl. The way he said show, like it was a joke they both were in on. Lamar shoved him back into the mud. “Get up.”

Chase rolled to his feet, wiping dirt from his face. He was taller than Lamar expected. Leaner, but wiry-strength in the way he moved. His clothes were filthy, his dark hair matted with sweat. 

Chase’s gaze flicked down. Lamar followed it—shit—he noticed he was naked, his shorts were a few feet away. He reached to grab them, his dick soft and exposed, nestled in the tangle of his pubic hair. He yanked the fabric up, his face burning. “Turn around.”

Chase didn’t. His eyes gleamed. “Or what?”

Lamar’s fingers curled into fists. “Or I’ll knock your teeth out.”

Chase barked a laugh. “With what? Them little baby hands?” His gaze dropped again. “Damn. That all you workin’ with? I thought black guys were packin’”

Lamar’s stomach dropped. He cupped soft dick instinctively, as if he could hide the evidence. “Fuck you.”

Chase’s grin widened. “Nah, fuck you. That what you was doin’ in there? Fuckin’ yourself like a—”

“A what?.“

“—like a faggot?”

Chase sidestepped. Lamar’s fist connected with empty air, his momentum sending him stumbling. Chase caught him by the shoulder, spinning him around. “Easy, prince. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

Chase’s smile vanished. “Where I’m from, we beat the shit outta boys like you.”

Lamar’s pulse roared in his ears. “Where I’m from, we don’t ask why before we start swingin’.”

Silence.

Lamar watched him, his heart hammering. He should walk away. Or go back inside, lock the door, pretend this never happened.

But Chase wasn’t moving.

The air between them was thick, charged. Lamar’s skin prickled. He could feel Chase’s eyes on him, even in the dark.

Then Chase exhaled, rough and uneven. “Ain’t had no action in a long time.”

Lamar’s breath hitched as Chase stepped toward him.

Chase’s voice dropped. “Ain’t sayin’ I’m into it. But a man got needs.”

Lamar’s mouth went dry. “That the most pathetic line you got?”

Chase’s hand shot out, gripping Lamar’s wrist. “You wanna call it that? Or you wanna do somethin’ about it?”

Lamar should’ve pulled away. Should’ve told him to go to hell.

Instead, instincts kicked him and he reached forward.

Chase’s dick was already half-hard when Lamar’s hand closed around it.

Five inches. Maybe. Lamar’s thumb traced the vein along the underside, his mind racing. This is a mistake. This is—

Chase hissed, his hips jerking forward. “The fuck you waitin’ for?”

Lamar’s pulse spiked. He stroked once. Twice. Chase’s cock thickened under his touch, the heat of it searing his palm. His own body betrayed him—his dick stirring, swelling, pushing against the fabric of his shorts.

Chase’s breath hitched. “Shit. You like this.”

Lamar didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His free hand fumbled with his waistband, shoving the shorts down. The cool air hit his skin. His dick, still soft, nestled in the dark curl of his pubes.

Chase’s laugh was a dark, surprised thing. “Damn. That all you got?”

Lamar’s face burned. He cupped soft dick, as if he could shield his shame. “Fuck you.”

Chase laughs, “Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of. Not everybody blessed like me.” He palmed this cock, stroking slow, deliberate. “Seven inches. You feel that?”

Lamar’s analytical mind supplied the correction before he could stop it. More like five. But the words died on his tongue as Chase stepped closer, his thumb brushing Lamar’s lower lip.

“Suck it.”

Lamar’s pride screamed at him to refuse. His body had other ideas.

He sank to his knees.

The first taste was salt and musk. Chase’s fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him deeper. Lamar hollowed his cheeks, his tongue swirling around the head. Chase groaned, his hips rolling forward.

“Fuck. Yeah, just like—”

SMACK.

The sound cracked through the night. Pain bloomed across Lamar’s ass, sharp and bright. He jerked, his mouth popping off Chase’s cock with a wet sound.

Chase’s voice was a growl. “You like that?”

Lamar’s dick twitched. Traitor. He glared up, his mouth slick with spit. “Do it again.”

Chase’s eyes darkened. His hand drew back—

SMACK.

The sting of Chase’s palm bloomed across his ass, the pain flaring bright before melting into a throb that radiated straight to his dick. His hole clenched around nothing, aching to be filled. A moan tore from his throat, muffled around Chase’s cock. His own dick throbbed, swelling, growing—

Chase’s breath hitched. He yanked Lamar’s head back, his gaze dropping. “Holy shit.“

Lamar followed his stare.

His dick jutted between his legs, thick and heavy, the head nearly brushing his navel. Nine and a half inches. Veined. Angry. Precum beaded at the tip, glistening in the moonlight.

Chase’s grip tightened. “That was inside you?”

Lamar’s lips curled. “Problem?”

Chase’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way.”

Lamar rocked back on his heels, his dick bobbing obscenely. He wrapped his fingers around the base, stroking slow, watching Chase’s face. “You scared?”

Chase’s jaw clenched. “Ain’t scared of shit.”

“Then prove it.”

Chase’s gaze flicked between Lamar’s dick and his face. “I ain’t no fag.”

Lamar arched a brow. “You got a mouth, don’t you?”

Chase’s nostrils flared. But his hand was already moving, his fingers replacing Lamar’s. Lamar gasped as Chase’s calloused palm closed around his shaft, testing the weight. “Damn.” Chase’s voice was rough. “This thing’s like a python.”

Lamar’s breath hitched. “Don’t touch it.”

Chase froze. “The hell?”

Lamar’s voice was a rasp. “I don’t like it.”

Chase’s brows knit. “Then why you—?”

“Fuck me.“

The words hung between them, raw and electric.

Chase’s grip faltered. “Man, I ain’t—”

Lamar leaned back, spreading his thighs. His dick lay heavy against his stomach, the head already weeping. He spat into his palm, slicking his dick, then guided the tip to his hole. The stretch burned, delicious. He pushed in—just the head—hissing as his body resisted.

Chase’s breath came fast. “The fuck you doin’?”

Lamar’s voice was a growl. “Showin’ you how.”

Chase’s eyes were wide, fixed on the place where Lamar’s dick disappeared inside his own ass. “That—that possible?”

Lamar moaned, his hips rolling. “You wanna find out?”

Chase’s control snapped.

One second Lamar was on his knees, the next he was face-down in the mud, Chase’s weight pinning him. The first thrust was brutal, unlubricated, burning. Lamar cried out, his fingers clawing at the earth.

“Shit—you tight—”

Lamar’s dick throbbed, leaking onto the dirt. “Harder.“

Chase didn’t need to be told twice.

Chase’s hips pistoned in short, vicious arcs, his balls slapping against Lamar’s skin with wet, obscene sounds. Each thrust drove the air from Lamar’s lungs, his knees skidding in the mud as Chase’s fingers bruised his hips, pulling him back onto that merciless cock.

Every snap of his hips drove Lamar deeper into the mud, his dick swinging wildly, slapping against his stomach. Precum dripped from the tip, splattering the ground like rain. His moans were raw, animalistic, swallowed by the swamp’s hungry dark.

Chase’s breath was a ragged pant in his ear. “Fuck—you take it so good—”

Chase’s cock dragged over that swollen spot inside him, and Lamar’s vision blurred. His dick jerked, precum dripping onto his thigh as his body tried to decide between clenching around the intrusion or pushing back for more.

Chase’s hand closed around his throat, yanking his head back. “Who you belong to?”

Lamar’s lips parted. “Daddy.“

Chase groaned, his thrusts turning erratic. “Shit—shit—” Chase’s cock jerked deep inside him, the first hot spurt of cum hitting Lamar’s walls like a brand. His hole clenched around the pulse, milking every thick rope as Chase groaned above him, his hips stuttering against Lamar’s ass.

Lamar’s orgasm ripped through him like a blade, his cock kicking against his stomach as thick ropes of cum splattered the dirt, the first shot landing near his kneecap, the next dripping from his fingers like melted wax.

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, Chase’s chest heaving against Lamar’s back. For a second, it was almost tender. Almost.

Then Chase rolled off, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Fuck.“

Lamar turned his head, his body still humming. “Stay.”

Chase was already sitting up, tugging his pants on. “Nah. This—this ain’t me.”

Lamar’s stomach dropped. He reached out, his fingers closing around Chase’s wrist. “Please.”

Chase’s expression twisted. “Man, don’t—”

Lamar lunged, his mouth crashing onto Chase’s cock. He tasted salt and ass juice and desperation. His hand found Chase’s cock, already hardening again. “Please.“

Chase groaned, but his hands were in Lamar’s hair, his hips rocking up. “Last time.“

Lamar didn’t believe him.

He took Chase deep, his throat working, his tears mixing with the spit dripping down his chin. Chase’s cock swelled, pulsed—

“Fuck—Lamar—”

Cum filled his mouth faster than he could swallow, dripping from his lips as he hollowed his cheeks, his throat working. Chase’s taste was musk and something metallic, his hips jerking as Lamar’s tongue swirled around the sensitive head, drawing out every last drop.

Chase’s hands gentled. For a second, Lamar let himself pretend it meant something.

Then Chase shoved him back.

Lamar hit the ground hard, his ass stinging from the impact. Chase was already on his feet, his expression shuttered. “I’m out.“

Lamar scrambled up, his fingers digging into Chase’s arm. “No—please—”

Chase wrenched free. “This ain’t happening again.”

Lamar’s voice broke. “Why?“

Chase’s jaw worked. “‘Cause I ain’t like you.“

The words were a knife twist. Lamar’s pride flared. “You liked it.”

Chase’s face darkened. “Don’t mean shit.”

Lamar’s fingers curled into fists. “You’re a coward.”

Chase’s laugh was bitter. “And you’re delusional.” He turned away.

Lamar lunged, his fingers closing around Chase’s belt loop. “Don’t you dare walk away from me—”

Chase spun and pushed Lamar to the ground.

He stumbled before his ass hitting the dirt. Chase was already striding into the dark, his silhouette swallowed by the swamp.

Lamar’s voice was a raw, broken thing. “Chase!“

No answer.

Chase was gone.

---

Logline

Lamar seeks solitude at an abandoned shack to secretly indulge his hidden sexual life, but his private moment is violently interrupted by a stranger who forces him into a degrading encounter that leaves him physically and emotionally broken.

Blurb

Lamar, carrying a heavy secret, sneaks away from his brothers to the secluded Swamp Shack to engage in his private, forbidden sexual ritual with a dildo. His moment of self-discovery is violently interrupted by Chase, a mysterious, hostile stranger who surprises Lamar mid-act. Humiliation and fear turn to a desperate, charged encounter where Chase insults Lamar’s body but demands oral sex. The exchange quickly escalates into a brutal, non-consensual sexual encounter in the mud, with Lamar seeking more pain and degradation, proving his own power over the larger man. Chase rejects the connection afterward, calling Lamar delusional, leaving him distraught and abandoned to the dark swamp night.

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