2 comments/ 15201 views/ 18 favorites Fucked Up Ch. 01 By: ruggerjocklad Part of me - the sensible, rational, moral part - wanted desperately to resist. To stop. Not to do something so wrong and so stupid. But my sensible, rational, moral part wasn't in charge tonight. My dick had taken over, and it was determined to have its way. I'd always viewed my bisexuality as a curse, rather than a blessing: the fact that I could have, and enjoy, sexual relationships with women, yet they were never enough. Fact was, I wanted to have a marriage, and father children, and enjoy an outwardly respectable life, but inside I always craved men, and I always wanted to fuck muscled, tight male arse more than anything. In my experience, men fucking each other is the hardest, hottest, most exciting and intense way to have sex. Neither my wife, nor any of the girlfriends who came before her, could slake my lust in quite the way that screwing another man could. So, I was always on the lookout, either for guys to perv at and use in wank fantasies, or for something more risky - everything from sneaking glances at nice muscled arms and legs on blokes when they were out and about in short clothing in the Summer, to spotting chiselled physiques at the gym, to watching guys strip in the locker room and check out their naked bodies in the showers. Most of all, I liked to check out guys at the gym, because I knew that some really were looking for cock as well, and a couple of men had proven amenable to being cruised, resulting in opportunities for tension-relieving casual encounters. I'd also slept with a number of guys when away on business trips, when the opportunity to visit gyms, saunas and nightlife venues afforded good chances to bring a man back to my room for the night. I always felt terrible for cheating afterwards, but it didn't stop me: when you've got that itch, and it's so bad that it needs scratching, you just have to do it. There were some seriously studly males down my gym, and sometimes it was pretty hard to stop myself from getting boned up looking at them, or thinking about them! I wasn't always successful, and sometimes wood had to be hidden in an emergency with a skillfully held towel, or by facing the wall in the shower until the engorgement subsided: the shower stalls had no doors, presumably a means to discourage wanking as the changing rooms were swapped around every few months when male maintenance workers needed access to the ladies, so I had been in there and seen that they had doors. But there were big partitions between each of the showers that meant no-one could see in from the side, a lifesaver when I was helpless to stop my dick from growing fully erect. All the same, I'm pretty sure that I'd been caught a couple of times with wood at varying angles to the floor. I'd occasionally seen it on other men myself. It happens to guys. But it happening to me was still intensely embarrassing. And I didn't want to end up getting a bad reputation as some kind of queer flasher. Of course, keeping my cock calm had become especially difficult since Todd, the new fitness instructor, had started work at the gym. His shifts seemed all too frequently to end around the same time of the evening as my regular workouts, and we soon found ourselves down in the locker room, stripping off and hitting the showers together. We quickly became, if not friends, then at least friendly acquaintances, starting off just acknowledging each other with a nod but soon beginning to strike up conversations, after we put on the same replica rugby shirts as each other when getting dressed again after shower time. Turned out we were both keen supporters of the local Premiership side, and soon we were talking around the same time most weekday nights about sports, music and other stuff. And there was something else. I saw, pretty early on, out of the corner of my eye, that he was checking me out. Difficult to say what, if any, particular parts he was attracted to all of the time, but I'm certain that at least some of the attention went on my arse and crotch - especially when naked, or clad just in one of my favourite red or grey Bike jocks, which I worse as underwear beneath my jeans as well as for working out in. Have a thing for jockstraps. Simply love the look and the feel - and especially useful if, like me, you've a generous endowment. And nor was it just the attempts at catching a sly eyeful of me in the locker room that convinced me that he wanted something more than a nice chat about line outs or the performance of the new scrum half last Saturday. He was also a jock wearer - not a common thing - and I reckon he worked out (correctly) that I loved to check out a fit lad in a jockstrap. All too often he'd strip down just to his own tight, plain white support, before suddenly finding the necessity to bend right over and rummage around for something in a bag placed oh-so-conveniently on the floor, giving me a magnificent view of his muscled arse, the hot, hairy young crack framed by two slender tapes drawn exquisitely taught across the buttocks. The whole scene screamed "Fuck me," impossible in such a public place of course yet also the subject of so many wank fantasies when I got home - that, or some of the hardest orgasms I'd ever had with my wife, taking her pussy yet screwing my eyes shut at the end, and doing my best to imagine that I was about to shoot inside Todd's hard, young, sportsman's arse. It was very good, but as any man who's fucked another man hard knows, pussy is never quite as good as arse. Tood and I quickly found more ways to signal our interest in one another. I would stand around after taking off my jock, drinking water for a couple of minutes and giving him a good chance to check out my body - athletic, hairy, and still in very good nick for a guy just the high side of 35 - and especially the start attraction, my thick six inches of manhood, hanging loosely between my thighs. Or, at least, that was the case so long as I didn't get too excited, whereupon an emergency towel had to be manoeuvred into position! We would go off to shower together, and whichever man was first in line soon learned to pick a stall with an empty one immediately opposite, if at all possible. With there being no doors, this left us free to admire each other whilst pretending just to be interested in a bit of friendly banter. And so it was, the night when it happened. It had been quieter than usual in the gym that Wednesday evening - perhaps something to do with the shit weather outside, and the big Champions League match on telly at half-seven, but when we went to take a shower the room was empty. I went and got into one of the stalls at the end; Todd said that he'd left something behind in his locker, and disappeared for a moment to get it. I turned on the hot water and started to wash off the sweat from a hard weight training session, hot water coarsing all over my well-built, 6ft 4 frame, soaking my body and especially the thick hair of my chest, midriff and groin completely. Todd had been giving me a good view of his jockstrapped arse again in the locker room, and my cock had grown half-hard, jutting out obscenely towards the wall. I thought I'd be stood there hiding it for a couple of minutes before I had the chance to turn around and cop another eyeful of Todd. I heard his footsteps behind me as he returned, but then... a strong hand grasped a hold of my left arse cheek and, before I even had the chance to be startled, another almost immediately wrapped itself around the shaft of my cock. I looked down, and saw a strong male hand enveloping my own manhood. I tried to turn around, but he wouldn't let go. It was Todd, of course, and he began to speak to me in hushed, yet urgent, tones. "Don't tell me that this isn't what we've both wanted for weeks Ryan. We've been checking each other out, and liking the view. I want this cock in my arse and you want to put it there. Right here, in the showers. Now. Come on mate, let's make this happen." He loosened his grip on me, and I turned around to face him and looked into his eyes. They burned with that familiar intensity, the feeling I always experienced when I pulled a man and knew I was going to get laid that night, the steel blue gaze of this tall, lean young lad fixing me in place. "But mate, we can't, we're bound to get caught!" "Not likely. I'm not expecting anyone to hit the showers for at least another half hour. I kept an eye on who was working out before we came down here, that's why I went for you tonight. Only three other guys, and they'd all only recently come upstairs when we went back down. We've got the place to ourselves - just so long as we don't get too carried away..." A wicked grin spread across Todd's face, up close to mine and very nearly level with me - I was guessing he was 6'1" or 6'2". I ran my hand down his back until it met the waistband of his jock, which he'd obviously put back on for the occasion. I grabbed it in both hands and then pulled him hard towards me, and we shared a lengthy kiss, my rough stubble stimulating his soft lips and the clean shaven skin around them, our tongues invading one another's mouths just as my cock would soon be invading that gorgeous tight arse. I let Todd go, then grasped his arms and applied pressure. He got the message, turned around and braced himself against the side partition of the shower stall. I crouched down behind him, and began to worship that arse. It was a thing of beauty. Todd wasn't quite as hairy as me - although I was pleased to have noted that he had a masculine trail of fur running down from his chest to his tackle - so his arse cheeks were smooth, but prising the buttocks apart revealed that gorgeous, hairy crack, and the ultimate target of his tight, puckered anus, naked and defenceless just behind the back of the white jock pouch, now soaking wet but still giving secure support to his balls. Using my left hand to help keep open access to his hole, I started to lick and eat that jock arse enthusiastically, whilst allowing my right hand to move around to feel his genitals through the cloth of his jock. HIs dick, like mine, was now fully erect, straining the jock but not breaking free: I was guessing he was average sixed, maybe 5.5 or 6 inches hard, but with a pleasing broadness to the bell-end, a super-sensitive protrusion which caused him to stifle a loud moan as I squeezed it gently between thumb and forefinger. Todd was soon letting out a continual stream of low volume but filthy sounding moans, interspersed with desperate pleas to start fucking his arse. And he kept telling me to open his washbag, which was a couple of feet away, clear of the water jetting from the shower. I could guess why. I let go of him, and went to explore the contents. Lube, and a packet of large, extra strong condoms. I don't know how long for, but Todd had clearly been planning to make this happen! Eagerly, I tore open the foil and rolled the condom down almost my full ten inches of length, and then lubed the achingly hard organ thoroughly. I'd not had sex since Monday night and I doubted if this was going to last very long, although perhaps, under the circumstances, this was just as well! Less chance of being caught, although this would surely go down worse for Todd: what if his boss knew that he was having sex in the showers? Grounds for instant dismissal. Somehow I still couldn't quite believe that he, more so than me, was risking such a thing. But it wasn't going to stop me from having him, or him from getting me to sheath my hardon within his back passage. I moved in behind him, grabbed his hips, moved my cock into position right under his arsehole, and began to push. "Oh fuck yeah! Ryan, mate..." Todd let out a muffled cry as the head of my dick spread open his anus and popped straight in. After that, a little more gentle pressure from my hips and the entire length slid straight up inside him in a couple of seconds. The end of my dick was buried right up inside his warm guts, and his arse wall and ring gripped the shaft tightly. So much fucking better than pussy, every single damned time! But with this guy, who I'd been fantasising about doing for the last three months, the feeling was especially good, and intense. My hips went into a thrusting rhythm, starting to give his arse the thorough fucking it deserved without any further ado. I could just tell that Todd was a bottom lad, although his back passage was nice and tight he clearly knew who to take a dick without blubbing - instead, there were only groans of pleasure and coarse entreaties to take him harder to be heard. I now used my hands on his hips to ease down the sodden jockstrap, far enough so I could release Todd's own cock and get my hand around it. I knew my dick was damned hard, but he was a dozen years younger than me and, as is the way with young men, his was like a fucking steel bar! I took it in hand and simply began to pump firm and fast, with just the shower water to grease the strokes. I knew I'd be unloading into his arse very soon, and I wanted him to shoot as well. I firmly pulled and pushed his partly retracted foreskin back and forth over the head, moving him even closer to ecstasy, as I felt the climax of the screwing build in my own crotch. Preparing to shoot wave after wave of sticky semen out of my neatly cut knob end, testing the condom to its limits. "Oh fuck Todd, I'm gonna cum. Gonna shoot so fucking hard in YOUR. FUCKING. ARSE." And with those final three words came three strong ropes of cum, shot so damned hard that my legs shook. My cock continued to spasm another ten or twelve times, emptying my ample balls which were now drawn up tight to my groin. And, as I drained the last of the semen from my cock, Todd let out his own exclamation, "Ryan, I'm cumming! Holy shit, my cock!" and began to spurt hard against the partition in front of him. I could feel his own stalwart legs trembling, and his cock twitching in my hand. The first of the bolts shot out hard, but the last dribbled down his cock and over my fingers, coating my fist briefly before the hot cum was washed away by the steady stream of shower water. We stood there for about a minute, first panting gently and then breaking out into broad grins and laughing a little. Todd still leaning against the wall, but with forehead now pressed against his forearms. Me with hands back on his now bare hips, cock still pretty firm and lodged right up inside his arse. "Todd, mate, that was fucking brilliant!" "Never had one that big before. So full, so bloody good..." Finally, I eased my dick out of Todd's arse, and he let out a last little moan as the head popped out and the half-hard penis swung free, leaving him empty. He turned around and leant against the partition, watching as I removed the condom, tied it off and dropped it in his washbag. "Filthy bastard!" "Well, what do you expect me to do - I've nowhere to put a used rubber, and there'd be awkward questions if..." I was cut off mid-sentence by the sound of the locker room door swinging open. It could've been another gym member arriving to work out, but there was a sound of hard breathing and I think we both reckoned it was one of the guys from upstairs back down after training, and likely in need of a shower. I reckon we also both imagined the same picture of his walking in and finding us in a compromising position, because we both stifled a laugh as Todd hurriedly pulled off his wet jockstrap, stuffed it out if sight in his washbag, and walked over to the opposite stall. We both had a good scrub down, and I also made sure that all of the incriminating evidence left by Todd's cumming was washed away and safely down the drain. Towelling down and dressing then followed, hardening cocks stuffed hurriedly back into clean jocks, and shorts then pulled up before anything untoward could be spotted by any of the rest of the clientele. Our locker room conversation was as innocent as usual, but our own racing minds and the frequently exchanged glances told each of us that the other was only thinking about one thing, and probably would only be thinking about that one thing - until the next time that it happened. We exchanged mobile numbers before heading our separate ways home - him to his single lad's flat, me to the wife and kids. There would be a next time. We were both so fucking up for it, my dick was already aching again by the time we walked out the door. I'd had no shortage of casual encounters to slake my lust before, but this time around it was different. Todd and I were gelling as friends, and now we'd taken the first step to becoming lovers. Almost unbelievably, I was embarking on an affair with another man - and yet, the old cliché was correct: it felt so wrong, yet it felt so right. And perhaps I really could have it all, a settled family life and a gay relationship? My brain was, of course, flooded with testosterone and I wasn't thinking clearly. No, not really thinking at all. Eventually, things would get too complex. Eventually, I would have to choose between holding my family together, or starting life over again as, effectively, a gay man. I could never have imagined how fast things would spin out of control, or how I was about to have my own destiny snatched from my hands by the machinations of others, of whom I was innocently oblivious. My journey into a whole world of man sex - and of trouble - was only just beginning. And the next stage began the very next morning, when a courier turned up on my doorstep with THAT brown envelope... Fucked Up Ch. 02 I was just finishing up in the shower when Sara came into the bathroom. "Ryan - there's a man downstairs with a recorded delivery. He says it's from your boss, and he's got strict instructions only to give it to you." "Oh fuck it! Sorry, love... what the Hell can that be? I don't usually get business shit delivered to the house," I said as I turned off the shower and got out, "Let me just get the worst of this water off, and tell him I'll be down in a minute." I towelled down hurriedly, wrapped it round my waist and went down to sign for the delivery. The envelope was marked 'Strictly Private & Confidential' and 'Urgent - Open Immediately.' I shut the front door and started back off up the stairs, tearing open the top of the envelope, whilst Sara remained downstairs getting breakfast for our two boys. I was very curious to see what had justified the expense of mailing an envelope to me by courier first thing in the morning, but I was also still pretty wet, and running a bit late. I went into the bedroom, threw the half-opened packet on the bed, and started towelling down. I'd come home from the gym last night with my head full of what I'd just done with Todd, and as soon as the kids were safely asleep I'd got my dick out of my jock and into my wife. The sex had been good, and the fact was that Sara was both very desirable and loved by me - but I couldn't help but think of Todd every time I closed my eyes. Wishing that my dick could feel the tightness and power of his arse again. Even pretending that I was fucking his arse. Having to be careful to call out her name, not his, at the moment I filled the condom. Briefly lost in my thoughts about the sex as I towelled down, I was shaken out of my daydream when the towel caught on my dick and pulled on it a little. I was fully erect, the whole ten inch fuckpole standing firm, proud and near vertical from my groin, with large hairy bollocks - emptied of seed once in Todd's arse, then twice more in Sara's pussy last night - hanging beneath. I felt like my balls could do with emptying again this morning, but I couldn't allow my surging testosterone to take over: I was running a little late for the drive to work, and whatever was in that envelope obviously needed urgent attention. With an effort, I tried to concentrate on something other than my erection, and that excellent fuck with Todd, and finished drying myself. I then realised that I'd forgotten to shave, and hurried back to the bathroom to deal with my heavy stubble. Walking back into the bedroom, I found Sara there tidying up. She was picking clothes - her dress and bra, then my shorts and jockstrap - up off the carpet. We had been eager to get down to business the previous evening. I saw down here cleavage as she bent over, and felt my cock, which I'd managed to get to calm down by that point, twitch. Fuck, I was randy again this morning! Hurriedly I went for my underwear drawer. "What was in the packet?" "Dunno. In a bit of a hurry this morning, needed a shave. I'll take it down with me, have a proper look when I reach the office." I picked out a grey Bike jock, slipped into it, and stuffed my burgeoning cock into the mesh pouch. I'd worn nothing but jockstraps as underwear since my late teens. When Sara and I had recently become an item and she saw me in one for the first time she had giggled, but when I explained that I found jocks most comfortable for what I kept in them, and then took it off, she stopped. Of course, I'd never disclosed to her that I also wore jocks because I'd liked the look ever since seeing them on lads in gay porn, that wearing them made me feel more masculine, and to enhance and advertise my endowment in the locker room. "OK love," we kissed, and then she went off to put the laundry in the wash, "you'd best get a move on - will you have time for anything before you head out?" "Nah thanks, I'll just nip in to say bye to the kids, then I'll be straight off out." I rushed to get into my work gear for the day, and threw together stuff for the gym afterwards. I was going to rush straight down the stairs, but thought I had best see what was in that envelope before setting off, in case it was anything I was expecting to be up to speed on by the time I got to the office. I picked it up and finished tearing the end open. Inside was a second, white envelope. I pulled it out, and read what was written on the outside: 'Wait until you are alone, then open this envelope and put the stick into your computer. View only in private.' Curiouser and curiouser! What the fuck could it be? I put the white envelope back unopened, grabbed my gym bag and work laptop, and scuttled downstairs to the car - diverting to the kitchen just to kiss Sara again and wave goodbye to the boys. I drove to work as fast as I dared - I'd picked up three points and an £80 fine for speeding the previous year, and was in no hurry to meet the magistrates again - and pulled up in the car park with five minutes to spare. Just time to see what was in that envelope. I pulled out the mysterious white envelope and opened it. Inside, as expected, a USB memory stick. And also, a note: 'When you've watched this, ring the number below.' 'Do not go bitching at Todd. He was doing as ordered. You will understand this yourself, soon enough.' 'The Boss.' And then, a mobile phone number. Holy shit! What was on that fucking thing? Hurriedly, I switched on the laptop and willed it to finish booting quickly. I pushed the stick into one of the ports, and opened it. A single file was on it, entitled 'RyanTodd01.' Oh Christ, it couldn't be... I looked around, couldn't see anyone around, then I clicked on the file. The video may have been filmed using concealed equipment, but it was of good quality. A porn flick of my whole encounter with Todd down the gym last night. It started with our stripping in the locker room and eyeing each other up, and I felt a terrible sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, as I suspected that there was more. I fast forwarded a few minutes and, sure enough, the fuck itself in the showers was there in full. I was totally revealed by the footage as a willing and enthusiastic participant in hardcore, public gay sex. Fucking hell, how could I not have seen the cameras, or smelled the set-up?!?! I thought about all the porn I'd watched in private moments online, but the locker room fucks were all staged - the genuine hidden cam stuff only showed guys going about their business washing. This one was actually for real! It was like Todd and I had been turned into fucking gay porn actors. I was confused, terrified - and my dick was throbbing, as I felt the bell-end had escaped its confinement beneath the jock waistband and was now rubbing against the fabric of my suit trousers, and starting to wet them with slick precum. I'd genuinely never felt such a combination of terror and steel hard fucking arousal. My head was spinning. I checked around that nobody was there who could've seen anything, slammed the laptop shut and yanked out the USB stick. The clock ont he dashboard revealed that I was already ten minutes late for work, and I was seriously tenting my trousers. Fuck! One of the big problems with being hung, so much harder to hide when you're boned up, even with the help of the jock to try to keep it all in place. I would just have to button the suit jacket, and then use my laptop shoulder bag to help provide a bit more cover whilst I waited for everything to calm down. Must get into work, mustn't be any later - and yet, what was I going to do about this. The note. It could only be the work of a blackmailer. And something to do with Todd. Did the blackmailer have something on him? Any road, I reckoned the shit would need a good talking to next time we met. And I would probably be doing the talking with my fists. I stuffed the memory stick and the note into my pocket, and hurried into work and up to the office. It was immediately obvious I wasn't going to get anything useful done. I was doing a good job of appearing calm on the surface, but underneath I was absolutely bricking it. Oh God, what if Sara saw that video? It would all be over. I dreaded being forced to talk to the filthy blackmailer who must be responsible for this, but there was no point in putting it off. Perhaps he could be bought off for an acceptable price? I think I could take out a loan and cover the payments without Sara being any the wiser, and there were one or two valuables of mine which I could sell and she - hopefully - wouldn't miss. I reckoned I could raise fifteen, maybe twenty, thousand pounds. I prayed it would be enough. I went downstairs and locked myself in the disabled toilet, where I reckoned I could talk without being overheard. I pulled out my phone and rang the number on the note. One ring, two, three... an age... "Good morning Ryan," a man answered, "I'm so glad you got my little delivery. I take it that the little lady didn't see it? It would be such a terrible shock if she were to discover that her nice husband had a craving for - shall we say, a certain kind of gentleman." I swallowed hard, momentarily struggling for a response, "What... what do you want? Name your price." Laughter from the other end of the phone, "I think that's something we need to discuss in person. I'll e-mail you my address, check your inbox and acknowledge receipt. I shall expect to see you after work. No show, and I send copies of that video to your wife, and your work colleagues, and I post it online for all the world to see. Understood?" Oh fuck. Oh fucking hell. "Yes, understood." "Good man. Oh, and don't bother looking for answers from Todd, because you won't find him." He hung up on me. I leant back against the wall and put my head in my hands. What had I done? This was a disaster, a total disaster. After a couple of minutes I pulled myself together, and headed back upstairs to try to do some work. I'd rarely been so nervous. I did my best to concentrate on what I was doing, but the hours until my meeting with the blackmailer, and with my fate, crept by as if time itself had nearly stopped. I did my best to be ready to face this situation down and not to panic, but that was going to be very hard. Almost as fucking hard as my dick, as my mind drifted once again to those images of me taking Todd up the arse, and the delicious memory of how good that had felt. I spent most of that day sat down at my desk, doing my best to keep the tent pole in my trousers well concealed. ************ 5:15pm - at last, time to head out. Sara would be expecting me to make the usual trip to the gym after work, so it would be no trouble going to the address I had been given instead, which was off in a different direction but not much further away. I was soon pulling up outside a large detached house in a leafy part of town. My heart pounded fast, as if I'd just been on a hard run. What would I find inside? I turned into the gravel driveway, and pulled up near the front door. One. Deep. Breath. Got out of the motor, went up to the door. Large, dark green, with heavy brass fittings. Had what looked like an intercom on the left-hand side. Pressed the buzzer. "Good afternoon, Ryan," It was the same man from the phone call, the fucking blackmailer, "come on in, take your shoes off and then come straight up the stairs, first door on the right. If you get mud on my carpets it'll be you who cleans them. And don't dawdle - I can see what you're doing. If you keep me waiting you'll suffer for it." The unbelievable fucking cheek of the guy. Take your shoes off, be nice to my carpets, hurry along now and come and kiss my arse. My blood began to boil, and with it my nerves vanished. I stamped straight up those stairs, still in my shoes - which were clean, although I'd have been sincerely glad if they had been covered in horse shit - and practically crashed through that upstairs door. Before I knew what had hit me, I was grabbed by both arms and thrown bodily to the floor. The thick cream carpet helped to cushion my fall a little, but I was still winded. I rolled onto my back, smarting a little in pain, just in time to see two huge blokes in black jackets - wide, stocky, bearded brutes - stoop, pick me back up by the arms and haul me to my feet. They forcefully turned me round through 180 degrees to face my nemesis. "Dear me, why do they so often insist on making an exhibition of themselves," he addressed his goons, rather than me, "and all to no useful effect. A total waste of time and of energy. Quite stupid, but I suppose I ought to expect no better, so I won't be disappointed." The man was, I would say at a guess, about fifty. Sat in the opposite corner of the room, behind a large desk. Dressed in a rather expensive looking grey suit, with plain white shirt and red tie. Full head of hair, albeit largely turned silver, slicked back. Pale blue eyes. An expression as well as a voice that conveyed a blend of weariness and disdain, rather than anger. "I just... want to know what you want from me," I said, wincing mid-sentence as I felt some pain in my elbow. The blackmailer rolled his eyes, "Then why didn't you just ask you fool, rather than charging around the place like a bull in a china shop? Not to mention the fact that you clearly ignored my instruction to remove your shoes. It's just as well you've not left muddy boot prints all over the place, or I'd have been very displeased. Now, let me guess, you think I want money from you? They always think it's all about money. Look around you man: I own this, and it's the smallest of my residences. I can afford to employ helpful assistants, such as those with whom you have just become acquainted. I have a portfolio of businesses, including the chain of gyms in which you keep that nice athletic body of yours in good shape. I don't need whatever pathetic sum of money you have to offer." "Then... what?" He leant back in his chair and, assuming a judicial demeanour, put his fingers together in front of him. "Ryan, I am a collector. And my great passion is collecting attractive, athletic men. And you're just my type. I keep a substantial collection of men, all of whom give of their time and effort to please me and certain of my social circle, and in return receive valuable assistance." I was genuinely confused, uncertain of what to make of what he'd just said. Who collects men, for fuck's sake. What was he expecting of me? Oh... wait... "What the fuck? Are you expecting me to sleep with you or something in exchange for your not sending that video to my wife?" "Finally, the lightbulb flickers into life! Yes, essentially: I like sex with fit men, and I know where to find the kind of men who will come running and give me what I want when I snap my fingers. Men like you, and Todd." "Hell no! And where is that little shite? I'll fucking kill you first, and then I'll kill him." Firm hands were applied to my shoulders, slamming me to my knees. "Now, Ryan, show some common sense as well as respect. You really don't want to make my associates cross, now do you? Now, let me explain your situation to you plainly, because I know that - inspite of your actions just now - you aren't stupid." "Todd is one of the men I have previously collected. If you like, he is one of the stallions in my stable, just as you are now to be. I used the hidden cameras in the gym to review which other men might be suitable to join him, and I quickly identified you. The constant surreptitious glances at other men, especially in the locker room and showers. The particular interest in guys' dicks and arses. I can spot your type at a thousand yards. So, I set a honey trap with Todd as the bait, and you walked right in. I knew he was your type to begin with, but it certainly helped as well that he genuinely fancies you. Your prick slid into his arsehole like a hand into a leather glove." "So, what does a married man who has sex with other men call himself nowadays? Bisexual? Bi-curious? Does it matter? No. At the end of the day, you fuck with other men, which, deep down inside, makes you gay. You're just too weak to admit it, and too weak to do what needs to be done." "You can't stay faithful to your wife, because you crave men too much, and you're too weak to resist a tight arse, even for the sake of your marriage and family. You're too weak to stop yourself from fucking another man's arse in public, even when you fear the consequences of discovery. And you're too weak now to tell me to publish that video and be damned, to let everybody know that you have a big cock and you're going to use it exactly how you like, and to Hell with the consequences." "In short, you, Ryan, are a beta male. A subordinate. A chronic underachiever who can no more turn his First from Oxford into anything better than a truly mediocre career than he can summon either the bollocks to live life as a gay man, or the discipline to control his urges and at least fight for what he's already got. Your body is first rate, but your mind is confused and directionless. You need someone to take charge of you, to help you to improve your life and to make some good choices." "That is what I offer, and that is what you will accept. You will now demonstrate that you know your place by showing some overdue humility, and sucking my cock." I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. Basically, this guy I'd only just met wanted to turn me into some sort of fucking sex slave. or what?!?! Instinctively I tried to rise from my knees, but the two goons shoved me back down. I didn't make further attempts to escape. My mind was still trying to process everything that had just been said to me. Was I really the weakling that this man had just said that I was? Undoubtedly I had failed Sara. Undoubtedly I shouldn't have been lured into sex by Todd. But now, it was too late to undo what had already been done. My blackmailer walked out from behind his desk, and stood in front of me. Sliding open his zip, he produced a firm length of uncut cock, thick and veined, although not especially long - about six inches, I thought at the time. It had been a long time since I had last sucked a guy off, back in college when I'd been jacking off to straight porn with my roommate and things had got slightly out of hand (and into mouth.) He hadn't been so big either, and seemed to enjoy what I gave him. No more time to think: the cock was right in my face. I parted my lips. He slid the first couple of inches between them. Then I began to suck. "There now, Ryan. It's not so difficult to be obedient, now is it? That's it, plenty of moisture and pressure, like the good and willing cocksucker that you want to be. Mmmm, you surprise me - you have definitely done this before! But be very careful with those pretty teeth, you wouldn't want to wound my penis with them, and thus persuade my associates of the necessity to pull some of them out with pliers, now would you? I wonder, how many times just lately have you dreamt of feeling Todd's lips around your prick? I imagine that you would like that. And to fuck him again. But remember, Todd is part of my stable, so you only get to ride if I permit it. Make a good job of servicing me, and I'll think about that." The dick was neither too wide nor too long to prevent me from taking all of the length. I felt a deep inner shame as I found myself giving into the desire to suck it, motivated by my memories of the time when my roommate came in my mouth, and the hard buttfucking I had given Todd last night, and the barrage of filthy language with which my still mysterious blackmailer continued to assault me. Now, he took a firm grip on my short, black hair, held my head just where he wanted it, and began to actively fuck me in the mouth. His balls crashed repeatedly into my chin as his two hired heavies looked on, grim-faced witnesses to my humiliation. Then, down between my legs, I felt the end of my cock break free of the jock waistband once again, and start to rub against the material of my trousers. Fucked Up Ch. 02 My mind was full of nothing but the thought of his cock, my cock, and Todd's jock-clad arse. I didn't realise until later that I had stopped even thinking about Sara, even though we had also made love only the night before. My rough treatment was, if anything, making my cravings for man sex even stronger. I not only steeled myself to swallow my assailant's load, I wanted it. At that moment, he let go of my head and yanked his cock out of my mouth. I was left looking up at him from a position of total subordination, upon my knees, with a couple of streaks of drool mixed with precum dripping from the corners of my mouth and down the lapels of my suit jacket. He put his dick away and zipped his flies back up. "Not yet, Ryan. Not yet. Gentlemen, please show Ryan to the master bedroom. Ryan, you will strip naked and leave your cheap, soiled rags in a neat pile outside of the bedroom door before entering. Some fresh clothing has been laid out for you on the bed. You will shower, then put the clean clothes on and wait for me to join you. I have some business to conclude first, but will arrive in exactly twenty minutes. Be ready, or you will suffer the consequences. Gentlemen, this time ensure that he follows his instructions with regard to clothing, there is to be no repeat of the disobedient episode with the shoes." The goons frogmarched me to the relevant door, and I took off all of my clothes. There was little point in resistance: these guys were far too powerful for me, and besides I had begun to take onboard what the blackmailer had said about knowing my place. I had shat on my marriage, I did have a rubbish, second rate career, and I had so, so enjoyed being made to get down on my knees and slurp on that fat cock. There were smirks from both guards when I pulled down my trousers and the extent of my arousal became genuinely obvious, although they disappeared when I slipped off my grey Bike jock and stood there naked, with my full ten inch erection on show for them to see. Perhaps, in at least one facet of my degraded manhood, I could still impress? I opened the door and walked into the bedroom, and it was closed shut behind me. Soon, any remaining notions I had of returning to my former life, as if none of this fucking mess had happened, were to be stripped brutally away. Fucked Up Ch. 03 The first thing that occurred to me, as the door of the huge master bedroom was locked shut behind me, was how totally fucked I was. Followed shortly thereafter by the realisation that I was almost certainly going to have my arse fucked - for the first time in my entire 37 years on Earth - by some perverse, voyeuristic sadist, in about twenty minutes' time. Then I looked down, and wondered why this thought seemed to be making my cock not just stand fully to attention - the combination of steel hardness and my gentle curve causing the head to point almost straight up towards the ceiling as I stood there naked - but positively to throb with excitement. And finally, I turned my attention to what was on the bed. I walked towards the end of the bed, laid over which was a single, sparkly white traditional jockstrap, but two pairs of red and white striped socks. What the Hell was I supposed to do with the spares, wear them as gloves or something? I hardly knew my blackmailer, but right at that moment I could've suspected him of all manner of weird fetishes. Perhaps I was expected to put them all on, get down on all fours and make like some kind of animal? And there was another thing - the shower was already running. A door was slightly ajar in one corner of the bedroom, and the unmistakable sound of jets of water spattering on hard surfaces was audible from within. As if there was somebody already in there... I pushed at the door, and it swung open to reveal, at the far end, a large glass enclosure with a sliding door. It was well steamed-up, but it was quite obvious from the outline inside that there was a very tall man, standing naked behind the glass. Before I had any time to collect my thoughts, the door was pulled back from the inside, the towering male figure revealing himself to me. "You must be Ryan, the boss told me all about you. You're the one who likes to fuck in the gym showers. I can dig that, have had some pretty good shags in the showers myself." I stood there open-mouthed, and might've been salivating were I not in quite such shock from the surprise. The guy in the shower was very well muscled - I was quite well built, but he stripped like a heavyweight boxer - and also tall. More than me I'd guess, maybe 6'6" or 6'7" - a veritable goliath! Plenty of nice, thick male body hair, all dark brown, wet and soapy. A clean-shaven face though, matching the clean-shaven head. Heavily inked across his chest and upper arms. And, between broad, beefy thighs... metal! What the fuck happened to his cock?! "Well come on man, stop ogling my fucking cock and get your arse over here. We'll get you cleaned up and I'll answer some of the questions you've got." He held out one massive arm in my direction and beckoned me in. The expression on his face was deadly serious, but there was something in his dark, mahogany eyes that betrayed the fact that he wanted to get his hands on my body. I walked over, and stepped into the enclosure. The big bloke closed the door behind me, before his hand wrapped itself around my rod. I flinched a little, but he didn't release his grip. "That's a nice piece you've got there Ryan - almost as impressive as mine, when I'm allowed to show it off to best effect." I'd worked out what had happened to the man by now: a chastity device. A shiny steel ring locked securely around the base of the scrotum, with a curved tube of steel slipped over his lengthy penile shaft and attached to it. The guy's cock could not be removed from the tube without unlocking the device, and he was thus rendered impotent for so long as he wore it. Shit! I'm not sure how well I would cope with such frustration. I hoped that the poor bloke hadn't been locked up like that for long. "The thing on my dick's a chastity device, a punishment from the boss. I fucked a guy without permission, and it was one of his men at that. So, now I'm locked in this thing. No hardons for an entire month, just plenty of hard arse shaggings. Mind you, the other lad was a serial offender. Talk about your bum ruling your head, he should've known better than to cross the boss once too often. He went off to market, poor dozy fucker. Now come here, let's get you cleaned up." The man pulled very gently on my cock, drawing me under the shower head with him. He raised his other hand, and ran it slowly down my chest. I put my arms around his waist, drawing our bodies even close together, such that my balls and the base of my hardon felt the cool, slippery wetness of the steel that encased and completely neutralised his manhood. The fact that this huge emblem of masculinity lusted after me, and yet he had been deprived of the very ability to fuck which I still possessed, was powerfully erotic. Somewhere deep down inside, a small voice was calling me out for the total slut that my behaviour had so often revealed me to be, but I wasn't listening. I'd never fucked a guy as big as this before. At that moment, I could think of nothing but sinking my cock balls deep into his hard arse! But he wasn't playing that particular game. "Don't fucking think for one moment that just cos I like the look of your cock I'm going to let you do me up the arse right here, mate. Don't forget what I just told you: the boss's men are expected not to screw around with anybody else, except by permission. I've been put in your way to tell you that, get you well worked up for your duties in the sack, and to get cleaned up as well so that the boss can have both of us on that bed together. That's all." I let go of the muscle guy's waist and pulled back just slightly, separating our bodies. It was a disappointment to say the least, but at least coming down off the crescendo of list enabled me to start thinking about something other than the imperative to have sex with him, just for a moment. "Why are you here mate - why let this fucker lock your dick up in some sick torture device. And who the Hell is he, anyway?" "I'm in the same boat as you mate. I started out being blackmailed, and then I learned to know my place. Mr Arrington makes you understand that some men are meant to be subordinate. Although I guess it's easier to take for some guys than others. I was used to taking orders, being part of a team with a management above me. Shit, the boss wasn't even the first time a guy took control with me - when I was 19, well... But, that don't matter. Fact is, my dick, arse and everything else belong to the boss now, when he wants to use them. You'll get used to that too." It seemed as though this massive bloke had already been broken to the will of our tormentor. I found it hard to understand how someone like that could, apparently, turn out to be such a pussy - until I realised that I was halfway down the same path myself. Let's face it, I had got down on my knees and sucked this man Arrington's cock like a whore not ten minutes ago, when I could just as easily have bitten the thing off. I was already beginning to learn my own place, too, it would seem. The thought was frightening, disgusting - and arousing. The thought of being a champion cocksucker summoned repressed feelings, a kind of twisted pride from deep within my being. So much shame yet so much pleasure at the same time. So fucking confusing. I struggled to make any sense of my situation. Muscles and I soaped up and rinsed off for a couple of minutes. Eventually, I processed what we'd said so far and ventured a couple of questions, "Arrington... I've heard that name somewhere... obviously wealthy, and appears to own the gym as well. Can't quite place it though." "Duncan Arrington, a businessman with fingers in all sort of pies. Gyms, construction, motor dealerships, you name it. And organised crime - sex trafficking if nothing else. Quite often in the papers, looking respectable, smart, well-spoken - but he's a very nasty piece of work. Enjoys bending men like us to his will, using us for his fucking twisted pleasure. Worst thing is, you soon learn to enjoy it. Unless you're like Richard, and can't quite cope with the discipline. Can't resist opening your mouth, or putting your arse about a bit. Then the only way is down. Oh, and he doesn't like his men calling him by name - always address him as boss or sir if you want an easier life." "Damn, now you've told me the story I can remember the fucker quite clearly from the papers. Mate, we're not just under the thumb of a sick fuck, but a sick and very powerful fuck too. And this Richard, I take it that's the bloke who led to you ending up locked in that thing - what...?" "Don't ask any more - trust me, you don't want to know what happened, just that he's most likely gone for good now. And I've said too much already. Come on, let's get out of here and get towelled down, we'll be expected to be ready." Muscles turned off the water, slid back the door and led the way out. His arse was stunning, about a 19 out of 10 and begging to be fucked. I was guessing that both of us were going to get ploughed by Arrington before the evening was up. He grabbed a couple of towels, turned round and passed me one. As I got my first good look at his face close up and in full light, it suddenly dawned on me who the man was. Oh fuck, it couldn't be! But it was. "Holy shit, man, you're Sam Alberly!" "Yeah, that's me pal!" He allowed himself a wry smile and a little laugh, "A fan, are we? Amazing how many people, even now, still can't quite credit it when they find out a professional rugby player is gay. Of course, it's not a career killer, but if they knew EVERYTHING, well... that's why I don't mess the fuck about with the boss, man. He's a keeper of secrets - the criminal, the dirty, the humiliating. And I'd be ruined if..." Sam paused, then changed the subject. "But come on, the boss'll be back any minute, let's hurry up and get dried off." Un-fucking-believable. Sam Alberly - a seventeen stone centre, big even for his position. An aggressive player with a less than perfect disciplinary record. A snarling, scrapping thug on the pitch. And a submissive beta male who takes it up the arse from a man twice his age off it. How many more guys like him were out there? I'd never look at the game in quite the same way again. We did as Sam suggested, and I took the opportunity to ask a few more questions. Turned out that the injury that had kept him off the field for the last four weeks was staged, with the help of one or two individuals down the rugby club who were either friends of Arrington or under his power. Hence the fact that he could avoid playing or locker room situations where his... appendage would not be revealed to those not already in the know. His cock would finally be unlocked again at the end of the week, and he would be able to relieve his frustration at last with his partner. I tried to ask again about the mysterious Richard, but Sam would say nothing more than that he was a man who had seduced many other guys into sex and that the boss had got rid of him. Was Richard dead? I wasn't sure. Sam had said something about sending him to market, which I thought must be code for something else, but I wasn't at all sure what. I also ventured to ask Sam about Todd. He had met Todd a couple of times at private parties organised by Arrington, and they'd once had a threesome together, but he knew nothing about Todd's life outside of his dealings with the boss and had not seen him at all recently. That little mystery, at least, continued to deepen. We finished towelling off, and went to the bedroom to get our gear on. The single jock was for me - the boss likes to fuck fit men wearing jocks, I was told - and, since my cock had lost a little of its rigidity since we got out of the shower, I managed to stuff it into the pouch. Sam, on the other hand, did not deserve one because he wasn't fully a man so long as he was impaired. The boss, he explained, also liked to be able to see the chastity device during sex, this expression of his total power over such a strong male's sexuality, and for Sam himself to be able to look down and see his humiliation, as well as feel its uncomfortable hardness and weight. We pulled our socks on, and Sam got on the bed. "Get on with me mate, and start making out. The boss fetishises all kinds of sporty lads, but rugby players are his favourite. He really gets off on exerting his power over guys like me, and fucking them. So, I'm part of this for an obvious reason. And you, Ryan, whilst you're not quite powerful enough for the modern game, still have enough beef to pass muster for the boss's fantasies. He'll love coming in here to find us getting into a bit of rough and tumble, and then he'll enjoy drilling our holes even more." I made myself at home on the huge bed with Sam, and we began feeling each other up and kissing passionately. I moved close up into his arms, and soon we found ourselves wrapped around one another, a tangle of arms and legs with hands moving everywhere. He began to work my dick and, as it quickly rose back to full extension, the head pushed aside the waistband of the cock, the elastic now pressing it tightly and uncomfortably against my midriff. My own hand explored the novel and fascinating object between Sam's legs, a restraint that deprived him of so much pleasure. As my hand moved down to cup his large hairy bollocks, I felt his entire genitalia twitch, and he let out a brief groan: his desire to achieve erection was immense, yet his frustration would remain total until the cruel metal devices were removed by the boss. I allowed my hand to wander up and over his prick, feeling the coldness of his restraint. My own frustrations were of a different kind: I could get it up and I wanted to get it in Sam's arse, but I knew that I would be denied the pleasure. Rather, it would be me receiving cock tonight. We continued feeling each other up for another couple of minutes. I was getting more and more excited, although - if I closed my eyes - I briefly imagined that it was Todd, not Sam, that I was playing with. Sam was so huge that he was almost overpowering in a situation like this. I was made to feel small in his embrace. Sam was extremely hot, and if I had the chance I would've loved to fuck him, but Todd and I were a better fit for one another physically, and personality wise we really got along. Despite the fact that our sex had led to this situation, I could see how Todd could be forgiven for co-operating in one of Arrington's filthy plots. The man obviously had a hold over him. I found myself wondering what had happened to Todd. Worrying about his safety. Wondering if I would ever see him again. But then, I opened my eyes and saw the massive stranger who had been sent to work me over tonight, and remembered that there were things I had to do, and to endure, right now. Todd would have to wait. I heard the bedroom door unlock, and open. The twenty minutes was obviously up. In walked Arrington and his guards. The boss looked pleased. The guards just smirked at the sight of two big hairy guys acting, they must've thought, like total faggots. "Now, isn't this nice - none of all that unnecessary swearing and violence, just two big, beefy bitches getting ready to serve. It's good to see that you are learning your place so quickly Ryan. If you had only done the same Samuel, then I would not have had to deprive you of the use of your cock. Still, learn your lesson this time around, and we can avoid harsher - and more permanent - punishments going forward. We don't want to have to send you to visit Daddy Andrew, now do we Samuel?" "No boss." "Very good. Gentlemen," Arrington said, gesturing to his two goons, "I think I can take these two from here." The guards laughed, and went to take up their previous stations, closing and locking the door behind them. Arrington began, slowly, to strip. "You know where everything belongs Samuel - why don't you put away these clothes nicely?" "Yes sir," Sam replied. Even though our conversation had at times been awkward, it wasn't as serious as the way in which Sam spoke to the boss. He adopted a submissive posture, amazing for a man who must've been 25 years younger, at least five stone heavier, and six or seven inches taller, than Arrington. He could, quite possibly, have destroyed this scumbag with a single punch. Come to think of it, I could've done something similar myself. Working together, I reckon we'd have had a decent shot of taking out the guards as well. But neither of us tried. We were both, at that moment, under his spell. Sam put away Arrington's shoes, returned, and took away his shirt, tie and cufflinks. The shirt was taken into the bathroom, where there must've been somewhere to put away laundry. "I'm pleased that you put on the gear that I had Samuel lay out for you, Ryan. You look like a real team player now. I imagine that fine arse of yours looks good enough to eat in that tight white jockstrap - almost too tight, actually, judging by what has happened to your penis! Perhaps I should make you wear a restraint as well, after you mounted Todd without permission - but you didn't know he was part of my stable then, so I suppose I can let you off this once. Now, get up on all fours, and show me that tight backside." I did as was commanded. I felt ashamed presenting my arse for inspection, yet at the same time so turned on. The fear of what the boss planned to do to me - to force his penis inside of my body, sodomizing and degrading me before a witness - was exceeded only by the excitement at the thought of carrying through what I had started in his study to a logical conclusion. I had always lusted after men more than women, and now I was under the control of a more powerful male I felt an increasing urge to surrender, both to him directly and, through his agency, to the gay side of my personality. I wanted to explore my homosexuality more completely, and the imperative to do so was so great that even abasing myself before another man and giving in to him completely seemed, suddenly, a price worth paying. "Mmmmm, very nice. You can tell two things from that view. Firstly, that the owner of that arse works out. Secondly, that he is a cock hungry faggot. You are a faggot, aren't you Ryan?" I turned my head to look behind me. Arrington had slipped off his underwear and was naked - except for long, black rugger socks. I'm guessing he was taking the part of either the coach or the referee in this sick fantasy. His thick six incher was stiff and definitely ready to give me what I both dreaded and needed in equal measure. "Yes sir." I still couldn't quite believe that simple answer came out of my mouth. I was getting really into this. "You are a cock hungry faggot who exists to serve the needs of stronger men. Tell it how it is, Ryan. Say it all." "I am a cock hungry faggot who exists to serve you, sir." Such humiliating words! And enough to make my dick throb. "Very good Ryan! I think that you'll fit right in on the team. Isn't that right Samuel?" "Yes sir." "Now, fetch me my lubrication and then go and get Ryan ready. A fit jockstrapped backside like that is simply crying out for a bloody good fucking." So, this was it, no going back from what was to happen. I already felt the desire for men more strongly than ever before. Even though I was apprehensive, even though I feared that it might be painful, I knew that taking it up the arse - under duress, perhaps, but nonetheless without a fight - would, most likely, completely fucking queer me. I would never be the same man again. Arrington began massaging his prick with the lube, and it suddenly dawned on me that he was going to have me bareback! I felt a tightening in the pit of my stomach, and began to breathe a little harder. I'd never gone bare with any man, even though - as a top - it was less risky for me. But now, I was going to take another man's sperm in my guts. This I was more worried about than any potential pain from getting fucked, but I also reckoned I was too far into this whole thing to get out now. I drew in another sharp breath and tried to calm down. The guy was wealthy, and clearly intelligent, and I had to hope that he took at least some care in terms of keeping himself safe. If he wanted to fuck his load into me, I would just have to take it. Fucked Up Ch. 03 And then, Sam got on the bed behind me and grabbed my arse. I knew what was coming next, and sure enough I soon felt the warm, wet sensation of his tongue, working all around my arsehole, rimming me as well as I had done Todd in that shower only a day before. The dampness, the probing, the slight tickling sensation, and the thought that this was all preparing me to take a man's dick up there for the first time, all deeply arousing! After maybe a minute or ninety seconds, Sam backed off and the boss got up on the bed, squatting down behind me and placing his hands squarely on my shoulders. His lubed, bare rod was lined up with its target - and then, the pressure, opening my arse, and the swift sheathing of the whole length in my guts. I had been mounted, penetrated, and forced open by his full cock length! "That fit arse of yours is just as tight as I had hoped for Ryan. Mmmmm, very good, very good. You took that length well - my, you've done this before, haven't you? Such a horny little cockslut, definitely made to be mounted by a proper man. I'm going to enjoy giving you a good hard pounding." It was my very first time as a bottom, of course, but he wasn't to know. Perhaps this was no wonder: the feeling of his lubed-up dick deep inside my guts was kind of cold and sharp, but I could take it. The stretching of my ring, the sensation of a full arse, actually felt rather good! I'd been bricking it wondering how painful this might be but, as he started to pump it in and out of me in fast, hard, butt-banging strokes, I could understand how bottom lads could get so into this kind of treatment. Todd had loved this when I did it to him, now I was learning to appreciate the pleasures of being well filled. Sam now got on the bed in front of me, and presented me with his hairy arse. His big hands reached behind him and spread the buttocks; instinctively, I dived in with my tongue and began to get him wet. The feeling of having my arse pounded was sensational, and quite overwhelming, but somehow - despite both that, and the wooden hardness my rough treatment was engendering in my dick, I managed to keep on pleasuring Sam. At least I was pretty sure he was having a good time, because he was backing his rear end eagerly into my face and, his own head down on the bed now and resting against his folded forearms, he started to make low, bass groans. Like the sound of a mighty bull mounting and breeding with his latest mate, except in Sam's case he was now a subordinate, to be given or denied pleasure entirely by command of a more dominant male. The presentation of his anus for stimulation, and the form of emasculation to which he had been subjected by a cruel metal device, were both ordained solely at the will of the boss. I, too, now found myself gasping and moaning, as Arrington sped up his hard, relentless strokes. My hole was being properly reamed out by his thick, firm tool, smashing his groin into my jockstrapped rear over and over, with growing ferocity and speed. The friction stimulated by arse wall, and my dick was desperately hard and oozing precum from my swollen bell-end - jutting obscenely out from under the restraint of the jock waistband, drooling from the piss-slit in a sticky string and dripping onto the sheets. This man was making me his bitch, but I couldn't help but love it! So fucking filthy, being mounted by another man and fucked hard and bare, and I was not only taking it, I was wanting even more. I began to rock my hips backwards, eagerly bidding to meet his hot inward thrusts. "Got a hungry hole, bitch? Yeah, take that dick, take it up that faggot arse." Arrington managed to get his words out between hard breaths, and was ramming his cock up me with increasing force, verging almost on desperation. I was sure that he was working his way up towards orgasm, completing the plundering of my arse cherry with the ultimate act of domination: pumping his very seed into my hole, the final phase of this act of total subjection through sodomy. "Yes sir, breed my fucking hole! Give it to me, right up the arse!" I couldn't believe how much I was getting into this, how desperate I was to feel him complete this sex act and make me his. There was no doubt I was getting my arse queered by this experience. This guy totally fucking owned my arse. Any feelings of shame were now totally washed away on a tidal wave of testosterone driven lust. I buried my face in Sam's crack and gave a muffled bellow from deep within my chest, the expression of the crescendo of sexual pleasure radiating out from my hot, well-pumped backside. Arrington grunted loudly, rammed his cock in right to the hilt, and then I felt it spasm in my guts. He held it in for what felt like an hour, but was probably more like 15 seconds, letting waves of hot cum blast out of his cock and spatter my guts. It was the most intense sexual experience of my life, up until that time. The feeling that I had taken this man's length, and all the hard pounding he could do with it, and now he had achieved an intense orgasm because of his desire for my body. The feeling was certainly one of great pleasure, of satisfaction, perhaps even of pride. Slowly, the boss withdrew his cock fully, and then dismounted. He gave my freshly seeded arse two good, hard slaps. "Good bitch. Very good. I made a good choice picking you. Such a tight and hungry little man slut arse. You're going to be getting a lot of your workouts from me, from now on. In fact, you've done so well I think you deserve a little reward." Arrington reached around and roughly yanked down my jockstrap, so that it formed a twisted rope of knotted cloth pulled halfway down my sweaty thighs. He walked around to the bedside table, got out a condom and the tube of lube, and chucked them on the bed in front of me. "I want you to fuck Samuel, but you must put the rubber on first. Only I have breeding rights over my men. Once you're ready, you may take him as hard as you like." I raised myself up on my knees, and looked down at this unexpected prize. I had assumed that the boss would want to have Sam as well, but clearly he had only just shot a load in me and was feeling the need to see this big rugger take cock right now. And I was still desperately hard, and my cock twitched at the thought of taking this guy. I'd had plenty of muscled lads before, but never one as huge and powerful as this, and he was just presenting himself, on all fours, waiting to be had. He looked round at me, and I could see the nervousness, the alarm, in his eyes. The boss laughed, and said Sam had never had to cope with ten inches before, and I should've felt some pity - but my desire to try out that hot, spit-slickened beefy arse, combined with the boss's orders, won over everything. I put on the rubber, slicked my cock with lube, and grabbed the tree-trunk thighs of Sam Alberly - aggressive pro rugby star, talked of even as an England prospect - and dragged them towards me, causing him to fall down flat on his belly, trapping that bound, impotent cock between his stomach and the bed. I placed my cock between his spread legs, and went straight for the target. I breached his ring, and opened his arse up with the head of my penis. At first there was merely a low moan from Sam, but as I slowly began to push my length into him, he began to bellow more loudly, "Oh shit... oh, holy FUCK, Ryan! Fucking hell, that's a big piece. Oh shit, shit..." He buried his face in the bed. Lying on top of his sweaty back, I could feel his chest heaving with hot, ragged breaths. I worked the final couple of inches into him, and lay there for a moment, feeling the muscle arse gripping my entire length like a vice. Those magnificent, tattooed shoulders and upper arms were right beneath me, his whole body prone under my weight. His legs were spread wide, almost as if commanded to open by the very presence of my manhood. His torso was skewered lengthways on my slick ten inch fuckpole. I felt something hot trickle out of my arse and down my sac - it could've been sweat, more likely it was the boss's cum. This was really epic, hot, sweaty man sex, and it was just getting better and better! I began to slide that dick in and out of Sam's rear, in slow, steady strokes. There was no point in pumping him hard like the boss had done me - not yet. I was too close to cumming for that. I wanted to take it gently, to make this experience last. I kept most of my body still - my legs were still lashed together by the jock anyway - and stuck to rocking my hips back and forth, back and forth, back and forth relentlessly. Sawing that cock in and out of that sensational rugby player arse. Sam just moaned and moaned. It was almost a continuous, low droning noise. How much might've been pain, how much pleasure, and how much the defeat of a massive, powerful sportsman having his masculinity challenged by a combination of unyielding metal and a long, hard boning, I couldn't tell. I only knew that I had to finish what I started, and that both Sam and I were now totally under the power of Arrington. I turned my head to one side, and saw that the boss was hard and stroking his pipe again, but he made no effort to have me for a second time. I knew that he was planning on breeding Sam after I was finished. I sped up my strokes, and it didn't take long to feel my ball sac tighten and rise up close to my body. I felt my orgasm welling up from deep between my legs, and after a few moments my legs shuddered and I filled the condom. I lay there for another minute or so, rocking my cock gently back and forth as I milked the last of the semen out of my nuts. Sam just lay there, as spent as I was, save for a few broken words, "Oh fucking Hell, man... never that deep... my fucking arse... God..." I finally slid my softening cock out of his body, with a final wet suction noise as the lube soaked head fell out. I reached behind me, and with an effort I got myself out of that mangled jock, throwing it on the floor. I got off the bed after it. "I'm done with you for tonight Ryan," said Arrington, as he got on the bed and prepared to have Sam for himself, "you may clean up in the shower before leaving. Put that dirty jock and your socks in the laundry as well before you go. When you're done showering, your clothes are waiting outside where you left them. My associates also have a gift for you." "Thank you, sir." I did as was ordered. After showering - making sure to clean the cum out of my arse as best I could - and drying off, I left via the bedroom. Sam was on his back with his legs in the air, and the boss was screwing him face to face. That mighty specimen of manhood reduced to a whore, legs spread, his red, sweating face twisted in an expression halfway between agony and ecstasy. What secret was so terrible that it had reduced him to this? And then, I realised, I had been brought as low myself. I left the bedroom, and dressed under the gaze of the guards. When I had finished, one of them handed me an envelope. "Your payment," was all he said. I looked inside. £100 in used twenties, not so bad for - what had it been, an hour's work - as a rent boy. The guards just smirked filthily. My humiliation was total. I went down the stairs, out of the front door, got in my car, and drove away into the night.