Short Gay Horror Stories: Boy Toy

I’ve gotten quite a few great reviews for my last short gay horror story. Let’s see how much you guys enjoy this next one.

It came rather quickly.

Allen ordered the thing on Friday and received it Tuesday at his doorstep, waiting for him after work. As he picked up the nondescript box, he looked around at the neighbors’ houses to see anyone staring at him. A nervousness came over Allen, as this was the first sex toy he ever bought.

Taking the tan-colored, cardboard box inside, he got settled before taking it to the dining room to open on the table. He wondered if he should take it into his bedroom, but he lived alone and hardly ate in the dining room. ‘Not like I’m going to fuck the thing right here and now,’ Allen thought.

In the kitchen, he grabbed a pair of red-handled scissors – ones he used for opening packaging such as this – and he ran the blade along the clear tape until he was able to open the flaps on top. He was greeted by bubble wrap and he could see the outline of the device. He removed the wrap to see the large, flesh-colored girth waiting for him at the bottom of the box.

“Huh,” he said aloud, surprised by how incredibly unattractive the sleeve looked outside its plastic casing. He picked it up only to drop it, surprised by how lifelike it felt. “Jesus.” He finally noticed the opening, the way it was carved out to look like a miniature butt. Two perfectly round cheeks with a tight, round entryway in the middle. Allen placed a finger against the hole and slowly pushed until he was inside. He pulled out quickly, scared he might have injured the thing. “Fuck me.”

‘This thing isn’t real,’ he reminded himself. ‘But it seems so lifelike I thought it was real. I thought I had really forced my finger up someone’s anus, no lube and no consideration.’

A primal thought entered his head. Suddenly, he felt his penis become erect and his black slacks tighten. He was going to fuck this thing, right here and now.

He undid his pants and dropped them around his ankles, but only after he retrieved the lube from his bedside nightstand and poured a decent amount on his rigid manhood. He smeared a bit on the faux-bottom and inserted a finger to allow a decent amount to coat the insides. A smirk spread across his face as he fantasized about coating the insides of his new toy with his spunk.

Forty-five seconds, that’s how long he lasted. It was so tight, it hugged all six and a half of his inches. He shook as he reached climax and he growled when he emptied every single drop inside.

Five minutes later, he went again and lasted three minutes. His second load was somehow bigger than the first.

With a whistle, Allen took a deep breath and decided it was time to eat something. He took his new toy to the kitchen, pulled out the cum-soaked flesh sleeve, and cleaned it in the sink with hot water but no soap, as the anti-bacterial stuff could eat away at the material. As he cooked a small meal for himself, he let the thing air-dry on a soft, white towel meant for dishes.

He went into the living room and ate while he watched some teen show about vampires and werewolves. After the show ended, his mind wandered back to the toy and his dick throbbed back to life, so he put away his dishes and brought the toy back to the couch where he sat in his underwear. Allen let his cock slip out through the fly and brought the toy down on himself until he was balls deep.

This continued on for days. He would allow himself to get distracted at every free moment to have that sweet release of blowing a huge load into the fleshlight.

A few weeks after owning the thing, he received a visitor at his door: his boss Mr. Reinhart. “Allen,” he said with concern in his voice. Allen noticed how disgusted he looked. “You look God awful. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Reinhart,” he said noticing how tired he suddenly felt. It took everything in his body to reply. “Why do you ask?”

“You look like you’ve lost forty pounds since I last saw you, which was fifteen days ago. Are you ill, Allen? Is that why you haven’t been to work for the past three weeks?” Mr. Reinhart stared at Allen’s naked body and how thin and sickly he appeared. He noticed Allen’s blood-drenched hardon and the red-stained flesh-sleeve in his hand.

“Not at all, Mr. Reinhart. If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend,” Allen said as he closed the door.

Six days later, the paramedics found Allen on the couch a skeleton of a man, even tinier than when Mr. Reinhart visited. He still had the fleshlight on what was left of his penis and a huge grin on his face.


Talk to me. I'm lonely.

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