Dom sub story of horny gay friends turning lovers: 1

Dom sub story: In the dusty, crowded alleyways of a small, unassuming town in India, there lived a boy named Rohit. Rohit was eighteen, a time when life’s complexities began to tint the pages of his once-innocent world.

He was a creature of habit, navigating the same route to school each day with his eyes cast down, avoiding the glares and taunts that had become a grim backdrop to his adolescence.

His shoulders were perpetually hunched, as if carrying an invisible burden that grew heavier with each step. Rohit’s once vibrant spirit had been chipped away, bit by bit, by the relentless barrage of cruelty that echoed through the schoolyard.

His days were a monotonous blur of classes and solitude, punctuated only by the occasional reprieve of a stolen glance at his secret crush, Jaideep. Jaideep was everything Rohit was not—confident, charismatic, and seemingly loved by everyone.

His laughter was like a melody that Rohit’s heart ached to join, and his smile, a beacon in the otherwise bleak landscape of his existence. But the chasm between them was vast, and Rohit knew better than to let his feelings show.

For in this town, where whispers could shackle you more effectively than chains, being different was a liability, and love, especially that of the unspoken kind, was a luxury that Rohit could not afford.

One fateful afternoon, as the sun blazed mercilessly overhead, Rohit found himself trapped in the schoolyard, surrounded by the very demons that had made his life a living hell.

The ringleader of the pack, a burly boy named Ajay, had caught wind of Rohit’s secret and decided it was time to up the ante. His eyes gleamed with malicious intent as he called Rohit a name that stung more than any physical blow could ever have.

The word “gay” hung in the air, thick with spite, and Rohit’s heart plummeted. In that moment, the walls of his carefully constructed cocoon crumbled around him.

And there was Jaideep, standing at the edge of the crowd, his eyes wide with shock—but was it horror, pity, or something else?

Rohit’s vision blurred with unshed tears as he stumbled away, desperately trying to outrun the echo of his classmates’ laughter. But it was not the laughter that cut him the deepest—it was the sight of Jaideep, his crush, joining in the cruel chorus.

The betrayal felt like a dagger twisted in his gut. Rage bubbled within him, a volatile cocktail of pain and humiliation that clouded his judgment. He knew then that he couldn’t bear this life any longer, that he needed to take back the power that had been stolen from him.

And so, in the quiet recesses of his mind, a plan began to form—a twisted path to vengeance that would irrevocably alter the course of his and Jaideep’s lives forever.

Days turned into weeks, and Rohit’s obsession grew. He studied Jaideep from afar, memorizing his routines, his habits, his vulnerabilities. The more he learned, the more he was consumed by the need to make him feel the same agony he felt every single day.

The plan grew more detailed with each passing hour, a dark tapestry of anger and desire weaving itself into a tangible reality. It was as if he were under a spell, and the only way to break it was to see it through to the bitter end.

One evening, as the shadows grew long and the air grew thick with the promise of the monsoon, Rohit waited for his moment. He knew Jaideep often took a shortcut home from school, a narrow alley that was deserted at this time of day.

His heart pounded in his chest as he saw him approach, a solitary figure in the fading light. The anticipation was almost unbearable—his mind raced with thoughts of what was about to unfold.

This was his chance to show Jaideep what it felt like to be powerless.

He stepped out from his hiding place, blocking Jaideep’s path. The shock on the other boy’s face was palpable, his eyes wide with fear.

Rohit felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of his crush cowering before him. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?” Rohit spat, his voice shaking with rage. “Let’s see how you like it when the tables are turned.”

Jaideep stumbled back, trying to find the words to apologize, to explain, but Rohit was beyond reason. His hands closed around Jaideep’s wrists, his grip ironclad. He dragged him into a dimly lit corner, his mind a whirlwind of anger and despair.

He had never felt this powerful before, this in control. As he pushed Jaideep against the rough brick wall, the fear in his eyes was like a balm to Rohit’s bruised ego.

He leaned in, breathing in the scent of his hair, feeling the tremble of his body beneath his touch.

Jaideep’s voice was barely a whisper. “Rohit, please, I didn’t mean it, I—” but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Rohit’s mind was a tumult of pain and fury, and he was beyond the point of no return.

His actions were driven by a primal need to avenge the countless times he had been humiliated, the countless times he had been made to feel less than human. And as he brought his mouth to Jaideep’s, the line between love and hate blurred completely.

The alleyway was a silent witness to the unfolding horror, the only sounds the muffled cries and the harsh intake of breath. Rohit’s heart thundered in his ears as he tore away at the fabric of their innocence.

He had wanted to make Jaideep feel the same pain he felt, but now, as he looked into the eyes of the boy he had once adored, all he saw was the reflection of his own monstrousness.

The sweetness of his victory turned sour in his mouth as the reality of his actions set in.

With brutal force, Rohit pushed Jaideep to his knees, his hands trembling with a mix of anger and excitement. He unbuckled his own belt, the clank of the metal against the concrete a jarring sound in the quiet.

He knew what he was about to do was wrong, but the darkness that had taken hold of him was too strong to resist. His mind was a fog of anger and lust, a toxic cocktail that clouded his judgment.

He needed to feel in control, to feel like he had the power that had been stolen from him.

He yanked down his own pants, revealing his erection—a symbol of his dominance. With a grim smile, he watched as Jaideep’s eyes filled with tears. He didn’t care anymore—the line between love and hate had been erased.

He thrust himself into Jaideep’s mouth, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction as his teeth grazed his skin. He could feel the other boy’s resistance, his gag reflex fighting against the intrusion, but Rohit was relentless.

The taste of fear was intoxicating, and he pushed deeper, claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

Jaideep’s eyes watered, his face contorted with pain and humiliation as Rohit’s roughness grew. He knew he had to do this, to show him what it felt like to be used, to be nothing but a toy for someone else’s amusement.

He grabbed a fistful of Jaideep’s hair and pulled him closer, his own moans of pleasure mingling with the other boy’s sobs.

The alley was a prison of his own making, and Jaideep was his captive audience. The rage that had fueled him was now a wildfire, consuming any last shred of compassion he had.

With a final, violent push, Rohit pulled away, leaving Jaideep gasping for air. He spun him around and shoved him face-first into the wall, the cold bricks a stark contrast to the heat of his own body.

He was going to make him feel it all—the pain, the degradation, the absolute powerlessness. He positioned himself behind him, his breath hot and ragged, and with a single, vicious thrust, he claimed what he had longed for.

The tearing of flesh, the scream that was forced out of Jaideep’s mouth, echoed through the alley like a macabre symphony. The sweetness of his victory was now a bitter taste, a realization of what he had become.

Dom sub story of horny desi gay boys

Jaideep’s body trembled as Rohit’s hands roamed his back, his rough palms moving down to grip the soft mounds of his ass. The sensation was alien, yet terrifyingly intimate.

He could feel the coarse hairs of Rohit’s chest against his bare back, the heavy breaths that seemed to speak of both passion and anger. Rohit’s fingers dug into his skin, the pain a stark reminder of the violation he was enduring.

And yet, amidst the horror, there was something else—a warped sense of desire, a betrayal of his own body that only served to intensify his suffering.

To be continued…