O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

The Set Up

by stimle and Glaucon55

I don't know how I could have been so completely naive, walking right into it like I did. Looking back, I should've seen it coming. The whole thing was a set up. I didn't even realize it was happening, and by the time I got a clue it was too late. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I guess I should start off by telling you about myself. My name is Brian Ryder and I live in San Diego. I'm married, 30 years old, 6'3 tall and 210 pounds. I played football in college at Tulsa and after I graduated I moved west, met my wife and settled down. I have brown hair and eyes and I'm in pretty good shape, still jogging and lifting weights to keep fit. I consider myself good looking, at least that was what the girls I banged in college always said. I did some print modeling in high school and college for a local department store chain. Some sportswear, but mainly underwear. I think they liked checking out the bulge in my briefs. I used to get so horned up that even with wearing two pairs of underwear in the shots my dick still wouldn't behave and I'd have to go "relieve" myself halfway through the shoot. But that was ages ago; about ten years. Not that I've changed much. I mean, like I said, I'm still in great shape and I still get lots of looks and offers from girls at the office and when I go out with the boys to bars.

I'm a Border Patrol Agent here in San Diego. Eight years now. I've had a new partner since last Fall. His name's Tim. Although he's a twenty-year veteran, he's only forty. We hit it off pretty good from the start. We're both into sports - any kind of sports - and we compete all the time. Tim's in great shape for his age, slightly graying, but built like a football tailback, 5'9", stocky and thick, but still sporting his six-pack. He's a hairy beast, too, from the dark shadow on his face to the sprouts of hair on his toes, and everywhere in between. I've often kidded him in the showers at work that he needs to get a shave, a body shave---no girl wants to sleep with a guy whose covered in bristles---but he just laughs, and gets more pussy than a bachelor his age ought to.

The stakes between Tim and me began to escalate a few months ago. Our occasional physical competitions morphed into bets on any other form of competition. Then we decided that money wasn't enough anymore as stakes, so we turned to other things. He had to clean my house when Syracuse won the NCAA Championships and I had to landscape his yard when Houston won the NBA Championships.

And then baseball season started. Baseball is my game, the Cubs are my team, and with the year they were having I started getting cocky. When they made it to the playoffs I ended up betting the farm. I bet Tim they'd go to the World Series and would win. I was so confident my Cubbies were going take it all that I told Tim there were no holds barred on the stakes.

Tim decided the winner would get to humiliate the loser. I was all for that! Tim was cool and all, but sometimes he got on my nerves with his know-it-all, ballsy attitude. He could get pretty cocky and I thought it would be nice to take him down a peg or two. I figured that since it stays pretty warm here in San Diego, I'd arrange a beach barbeque and volleyball game and Tim would have to come wearing a thong swimsuit displaying his oversized schlong for every person on the beach to see. I couldn't wait!

But then came Game 6 of the NL Championship Series and Steve Bartman. The fan who reached out when Moises Alou was going for the foul ball... you know the story... the gaffe seen around the world...the curse of Waverly Avenue.

Well, that did it for me. The Cubs spiraled out of control and ended up losing it all. I was crushed. Not that I had lost the bet, but that my Cubs were once again not going to the big dance. To make matters worse, Tim lorded it over me for days, rubbing it in whenever he could. He also told me he couldn't wait for my humiliation. I figured it would be awful for a day, but I'd live through it. After all, what's the worst a lug like him could up with?

So, last Friday afternoon, about mid-way through out patrol, Tim tells me it's time for him to collect on the bet. He said he couldn't wait. My wife had been in Fresno for the past week visiting her sister who'd just had a baby and she was supposed to get home late tonight. I figured tonight was as good a time as any.

Although I didn't know what he had in mind, I wasn't too concerned. It couldn't be worse than what I had had planned for him. Boy, was I wrong! As we were leaving work he told me his plan was to take me to a gay bar for the night. He said he had some gay friends and since I was always making snide comments about fags, a night in a gay bar might be just what I needed. I was blown away. First of all, I couldn't imagine a pussy hound like Tim having any gay friends. Christ, he was a cop after all! I know there are gay cops, but they tend to stick together so you don't have to worry about them staring at you in the shower, or trying to get into your pants. The thought of Tim even knowing faggots had blown me away... pardon the pun.

He says I'm homophobic but I don't think I am. I don't like it when faggots check me out and shit, but then who does? Now I was going to have to go into a bar with a crowd of cocksuckers. Jeez, how did I lose the fucking bet... the curse of Waverly Avenue had bigger consequences than most Cub fans could possibly imagine. My asshole tightened at the thought of being anyway near a queer.

The biggest thing I didn't like about how Tim played out the wager was that I was still in uniform. But there wasn't anything I could do since Tim and I carpool to work and it was his week to drive. I rarely bring a change of clothes to work unless I'm going to work out, usually wearing my uniform to and from work, and this Friday was no different. Of course, Tim had brought a change of clothes. Fucker.

Oh well, so I walk into a gay bar in my uniform. Big fuckin' whoop. More for the queers to lust over, and after all if I'm in uniform, maybe they'd back off.

We ended up at some hole in the wall place in Chula Vista. I don't even remember the name, just that it was a gay bar. We arrived at the bar and parked the car. Tim had already changed into his civvies, so it was just me in my uniform. As we entered the bar I got a bunch of whistles right off the bat. I blushed. A guy was coming over to us. Shit! It was Jessie, Tim's former partner and now our supervisor. He stuck out his hand, smiling. "Brian! Glad you could make it."

"Like I had a choice," I said good-naturedly, reluctantly shaking his hand.

We sat down at a table that was right in front of a stage. A totally effeminate looking guy came over to take our drink order. He was wearing a tank top and black short-shorts. His smooth ass cheeks were hanging out. It was disgusting, the way he walked, how he talked, and how he looked at me. His name was Manny. What kind of faggot name is that? Tim ordered a rum and coke, I ordered a Corona, and Jessie ordered a Cosmopolitan. "A Cosmopolitan?" I asked. "You'd better watch out, Jessie. Some of the boys in here might think you bat for their team"

Jessie laughed and we talked about how I lost the bet and stuff until our server came with our drinks. "So, this is it," I said to Tim, pushing the lime into my Corona and taking a swig. "You're gonna make me sit here with a bunch of fags and waste a perfectly good Friday night. How lame." I took another drink.

Tim looked at Jessie and then at me. They were both smiling. "Oh, there's more, Brian," he said.

I finished my beer. "What?"

Tim could barely contain his smile. "See that stage?" he asked, pointing to an area behind me.

"Yeah."

"Well, you gotta dance for us. A striptease."

I swallowed hard. "What? You're kidding?"

"Nope," Tim replied. "You said no holds barred, remember?"

I nodded, slowly realizing that Tim was serious.

"You were soooo sure your Cubs were going all the way. And you were so cocky about it. No backing out now."

I shook my head. "I know, I know," I said, "but this is different. I mean, dancing in front of a bunch of faggots and stripping... that's not cool." I did NOT want to go through with this, and although I wasn't one to welch on a bet, I hoped I could talk him out of it. When it was clear he wasn't going to let me out of this jackpot, I said what any red-blooded straight male would, "You're a fuckin' asshole."

"I know," he replied, grinning, "but you lost the best and you still have to strip." I looked him straight in the eyes. I laughed. I couldn't help it. He had the perfect humiliation all lined up for me. I signaled for our server to come on over.

"Give me another beer," I said as he walked up. "And get these two asswipes whatever they want." Tim and Jessie ordered a shot of whisky each.

"Oh, and nice idea making me wear my uniform, Tim," I said as the server walked away.

"I thought it would add the right touch. At least I'm not gonna make you wear a g-string."

I shot him a dirty look but couldn't help suppressing a giggle. This was bordering on ridiculous now. "You set this up perfectly, didn't you? These fags are gonna have a field day checking me out."

"Don't flatter yourself, Prince Charming," Tim laughed as our drinks arrived. I downed half my beer before the server even left the table.

"Easy there, cowboy," Tim said. "Pace yourself. And relax. No one from work is here. There's nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, don't sweat it," Jessie chimed in. "When you're up there just move to the music and forget about us. It'll be over before you know it."

"Yeah, and how the hell would you know?" I laughed with a tight-lipped smile, dreading what I was about to do. I hoped the beer would make me braver... loosen my inhibitions. "You guys are so confident of how I'm gonna feel, you act like you work here or something."

Tim took his and Jessie's shots and slid them over to me. "Maybe some liquid courage will do the trick," he said. He must have been reading my mind. "Fuck yeah," I said, downing the shots. So I was feeling my head go light and fuzzy and praying it would make me forget what I was about to do.

The bartender came over to our table and filled me in on what I needed to do. It didn't sound too bad, just embarrassing. I finished the rest of my beer. Now, I can handle my beer, don't get me wrong, but I don't drink hard alcohol too often. Plus I hadn't eaten since lunch so the booze hit me a little quicker and bigger than it normally would. I was more nervous that I was letting on, what with having to do a strip tease for a room full of drooling sissy boys, so I was counting on my buzz.

By the time the bartender announced my turn I was flying pretty good. Tim and Jessie had each bought me another shot and I was on my way to being drunk. I looked at Jessie and Tim as I stood up; they both had big grins plastered on their faces. "Go on out there and shake your moneymaker, Brian!" Jessie said.

And I did. I felt a little awkward at first, but gradually got the hang of it, even swinging my shirt around before I tossed it to Tim. I teased them with my t-shirt, too, but my boots were something else. I had to hop around on one leg, bent over, to get them off, but the fags didn't seem to mind. At least that's what I could make out, judging from their whoops and cheers. No doubt checking out my ass.

It was time for the pants. The crowd was chanting and urging me on and, with my inhibitions sufficiently lowered, thanks to all the alcohol, I decided to go for it. I stripped off my belt and waved it like a whip. I undid the top button of my pants and as the waistband of my white briefs came into view, the chants from the crowd got louder and louder. In one quick flip of my wrist I unbuttoned the fly of my uniform pants. They fell quickly to my ankles, quicker than I thought, and I ended up tripping and falling flat on my ass. The crowd burst into a round of laughter and cheers as I sat there, half drunk, trying to pull my pants down my long legs. I finally managed to work them off, along with my socks, and threw them to Tim, who piled them on the table with the rest of my clothes. Now I was down to my briefs... and they were staying on! I got to my hands and knees. The crowd was whooping and cheering.

I heard the hum and rasp of a microphone. I looked up to see Tim holding the bartender's microphone. He gave a loud wolf whistle. "Check out Brian Ryder in his tightie whities!"

The crowd laughed and clapped its approval and there were more whistles. Now I was embarrassed. Shit. I wish I wore boxers. But I grew up wearing regular briefs. What did Tim just call them? Tightie whities? Yeah, whatever. Fruit of the Loom, Hanes, BVDs. My dad wore them, my older brothers wore them... I'd never worn anything else... They weren't tight tight, but they weren't loose either. I mean... well, let's just say that anybody taking a look could see that I've got decent sized balls and a nice 8-inch concealed weapon.

I got to my feet and staggered back and forth, tripping over my own feet. The crowd loved it, though. Like I said, all that alcohol had gone right to my head and I was feeling looser now, so I decided to give the fags a little show. I started to thrust my hips like a Chippendales dancer and even flashed them my bare ass a couple of times. They were on their feet and stayed there until the music ended. Then the music ended and I was done. I shrugged my shoulders and threw my hands out in a thank you gesture to the crowd, who was still on their feet cheering for me. I stumbled down the stairs where Tim was standing waiting for me.

"I can't fucking believe you did it, man!" he said, handing me a beer as we walked over to the bar where Jessie was sitting.

"You sure you've never done this before?" Jessie asked, patting me on the back. "You looked like a pro."

I drank the beer in three big gulps. "Ah," I said, putting the empty glass down. "That hit the spot."

"Let me get you another," Tim said.

I was sweaty from the hot lights and had to piss something fierce. "Yeah, that'd be great. But I gotta piss," I said. Without even dressing I padded off to the bathroom, stumbling all the way.

I leaned against the wall and pissed into the urinal. I noticed two guys checking me out in the corner. "Fuckin' faggots," I mumbled, glaring at them in the mirror as I washed my hands.

Just as I was leaving the bathroom a wave of dizziness crashed over me and I nearly fell. I was definitely drunk. I made my way back to where Tim and Jessie were, holding onto the wall to keep my balance.

"You okay man?" Tim asked, handing me another beer.

"Yeah," I nodded. My face scrunched up as I drank the beer. It tasted all nasty and had some kind of funky aftertaste. "What is this shit? Microbrew?" I was strictly a Corona guy.

"Why don't you get dressed now," Jessie suggested as he and Tim steered me through the crowd to a makeshift dressing room on the other side of the bar. I was stumbling worse now so Tim put his hand on the small of my back to steady me. It didn't even dawn on me that I was walking around in nothing but my underwear.

We continued to walk and now my head was beginning to feel light and I got tingly all over. I noticed that his hand had roamed down to my lower back and was resting just above my ass. "I bet they'll let you go on again if you want," he said.

"Yeah man," I said, the words taking longer to come out. "Like that's gonna happen." I finished the beer.

"Face it, you loved the attention," Tim said.

My face felt a little flushed and my knees buckled slightly. "Wow! That last beer really hit me," I said. "I'm glad I'm riding with you tonight, Tim."

"Yeah, you're hammered," he said, his hand still resting on my lower back. "Maybe you should slow down."

"Nah, it's just a few beers," I said. "I'm good."

"When does Laurie get back?" he asked.

"Some time late tonight."

"Miss her?" Tim asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, she's only been gone a week but this is the longest we've gone without sex since we got married. I'm so fuckin' horny!" I was unconsciously grabbing and tugging on my nuts. Don't ask me why. My dick was starting to get all hard and shit and I was burning up. Both Tim and Jessie were smiling broadly now. I picked up my pants and started to put them on but I was so clumsy that Tim and Jessie had to keep me steady as I pulled them up. It felt like I was wearing gloves and couldn't button up the fly so Tim helped me there, too.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, hoping the dizziness would pass, but it didn't. I was starting to feel lightheaded and warm. Woozy. When I opened my eyes I saw that my pants were back down at my ankles and Tim was helping me step out of them.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled.

"Shhh... it's okay," he whispered, leaning in close. He was touching my lip with his index finger and his other hand was now resting right on my ass and Jessie was softly rubbing my belly. My head was swimming and I must've been imagining things because I could've sworn that Jessie had cupped my package a few times. My head was buzzing and my mouth was dry. It felt like there was cotton in my head. Then I sort of stumbled, and Jessie used one of his hands to catch me, cupping me right under my mounded pec, and his thumb must have accidentally brushed over my tit. My dick seemed to swell a bit, and I involuntarily hunched to escape the sensation of that rough thumb pad on my nipple.

"Shit, man... I feel so dizzy," I said embarrassed at my own reaction to his finger, and trying to excuse my response.

"Let's see if the bartender has any smelling salts," Jessie said, walking to the bar.

Tim and I followed him. I was having real trouble walking straight now and Tim had to help me along. I was leaning heavily against him as we made our way through the crowd. I must've been quite a sight; all 6'3 of me, wearing nothing but tightie whities, stumbling through the bar, leaning against Tim who was all of 5'9.

The bartender handed Jessie a small bottle. He opened it and walked toward me. "Take a good sniff of this," he said, putting the bottle to my nostril.

I caught a slight whiff. It wasn't smelling salts. I pulled away. "What the hell is that stuff?" I said.

Before I could react Tim wrapped his arms around my upper body, pinning my arms to my sides.

"What the fuck...?" I started to say, but Jessie clamped his hand over my mouth, pinning my right nostril shut with his thumb. He put the bottle to my open nostril.

"Just breathe it in, Brian," he said, his face right next to mine. "You'll feel better. Come on..."

I didn't know what to think. I could smell some kind of chemically-ish odor from the bottle but I was holding my breath. I tried to struggle but my body was already weak, plus Tim had a pretty good hold on me.

Jessie kept the bottle to my nose. "Come on, Brian. You can't hold your breath forever," he said in a sing-song voice.

He was right. I was running out of air, but I did my best. Then Tim stuck thrust his thick index finger into my navel, and his nail scratched across the sensitive knot of my inny. I instinctively laughed and I lost all my concentration. Against my will I inhaled sharply, snorting in the air and the strange smelling stuff he was holding under my nostril.

"Unnnggghhh..." Whatever it was in that little brown bottle rushed to my brain and sent me spinning. I got warm all of a sudden and I slumped against Tim. Jessie's thumb began to stroke back and forth over my hard tit flesh, now jutting out sharply from my pec, almost seeming to stretch to the finger that was rubbing it. My knees weakened and I slumped even more. Tim's palm slid down the front of my briefs and grasped me by the crotch, making my dick go hard and causing me to feel like I'd never felt... it was so fucking strange, a guy grabbing my jewels and my dick going rock hard.

Jessie put the bottle to my other nostril and told me to inhale again. I did, like Pavlov's dog. Another rush. He put the bottle back to my other nostril. "Unnnnooooohhhhh..." I moaned again, my head spinning and lolling, his thumb now joined by his index finger, squeezing and tugging at my tittie. Tim's hand had closed around my shaft, and his thumb was grazing back and forth over the tip of my prick... SHIT... I was leaking, and his thumb was scrubbing the material of my briefs back and forth over the piss lips of my aching cock. WHAT THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING? I was losing all control and two guys I thought I knew were doing strange things to my body. I felt helpless to stop!

My head lolled back and through my half-open eyes I saw Tim and Jessie wink at each other! What the fuck? Then it began to dawn on me. The bet, the gay bar, the funny tasting beer... had I been drugged? I looked at Tim and Jessie again. They were smiling. Jessie put the bottle back to my nose and for some reason I inhaled without even being told to. My tit was being mauled by Jessie's fingers, and now Tim was swirling his fingertips around the throbbing tip of my sausage. I heard something strange... like someone was groaning... "AAAAAAggghhhhhh... oooooohhhhhhh... nnnnoooooo... aaaaaaaaahhhhhh."

Then I realized who it was. It was me... I was grinding my hips into Tim's expert fingertips, and every time Jessie tweaked my nipple my cock burped another shot of clear pre-fuck to help Tim baste my dick head with my tight, white cotton briefs. The area around my knob was soaking, and the sweet scrubbing of the material was making me even more light-headed and weak.

Suddenly my legs felt like jello and I fell backward. Somebody caught me from behind, putting their arms under my pits to keep me from falling. Jessie kept switching the bottle from nostril to nostril until I was higher than fuckin' Blitzen. I was completely disoriented. I don't even know how many sniffs I had from that fuckin' bottle. And suddenly it seemed there were other hands on both of my tits... and a hand sliding into the back of my briefs, a finger worming down to tickle the area between my hairy, sweaty cheeks... getting close to my hole... NOOOOOO! I wanted to kick and punch my way out, but those magic fingers on my cock head, and the constant pinching of my tits made me feel like some bitch... helpless...and ready to surrender!

"You like this, Brian?" Tim asked, grabbing at my dick while Jessie kept the poppers going from nostril to nostril. "How about these poppers?"

"NNNNoooooo... stop... yuuuuu gotttaaaa... sttttooppp." At that moment, though, a wet set of fingers started rolling my right tit, and the ticklish sensation made me grunt like a high school whore... "Eeeeeiiiiii... aaaaaaahhhhhhhh..."

"Now I asked if you liked this... now what do you say...?"

As my tits were plucked and tweaked, and my rogue cock head wickedly jerked, I surrendered without a fight, slurring and purring.

"Yesssss... oohhhh fuuuccckkkk yeesssss... oooowwww," I slurred while shaking my head as if I wanted to indicate 'No', but my thrusting hips, my taut tits, and my constant groans said otherwise. Why did I say 'yes'? I couldn't get a bead on my thoughts. I was dazed and it felt like I was floating. My head was lolling back and forth. Tim had a big smile on his face.

I was given another hit of poppers and Tim put a beer to my mouth. It had the same bitter taste as the last one and I was sure it was drugged. He tilted it up, draining it in my mouth, beer running over my lips and down my face. Then he pushed the empty bottle into my mouth and slowly moved it in and out. What was he doing? Yet at the same time, my lips tightened around the bottle, and like my wife's fingers in my mouth when we fucked like dogs, I was sucking on that bottle like it was some big titty.

I was pushed down to my knees. My face at Tim's crotch. I looked up to see him smiling. He was unzipping his pants. He held the back of my head in his big hand and slowly moved me forward until my nose was against the white cotton of his jock strap that was bulging from the spread of his fly. My nose rubbed against a hard, thick protrusion, and my nostrils were assaulted by a strange scent, one that I had smelled only when I sniffed my own jock strap after a sweaty exercise.

The starchy, sweaty, ballsy smell was crotch sweat... my nose was in Tim's crotch! Jesus, I was sniffing my partner's nuts and dick. I tried to lurch back, but his strong hand held me in place and another hit from Jessie and the brown bottle caused me to loll forward. My nose was rubbing back and forth on the damp jock and now my mouth was being pushed against the white cotton.

"That's it Brian... get a good sniff of your partner's balls... those big balls that you've seen in the shower, the big balls that pump lots of scum into tight wet pussy... that's it Brian... sniff 'em good... get to know 'em... be nice to 'em... yeah... that's it buddy..."

I tried again to pull away, but the combination of his strength and my drugged condition had me in a vice grip. Jessie and other hands took over for Tim and he used one hand to grasp the waistband of his jock and pull it and down beneath his pendulous, hanging balls, and used the other to grip his thick, 7 inch prick with the slight curve towards his body. The knob was exceptionally thick and wide, with deep piss lips and a wide flange. The helmet was sopping in his pre-fuck, and as he grasped the pole and aimed it towards my face, the bulbous knob made contact with my lips, coating them with the clear, sticky sap churning up from his heated nuts. He rubbed it all over my face, back and forth, coating my lips, cheeks, and nose, making me mewl from the goo that was painting me. Each time I tried to pull back, hands pushed me forward and held me in place, and that damned brown bottle was thrust under my nostrils, making me weaker and weaker to resist.

After a particularly long inhalation of the chemical from the bottle, someone grasped both of my nostrils and held them shut. With my face rubbing back and forth on Tim's huge prick knob, I felt like I was about to pass out... involuntarily, my mouth opened to swallow air, and as it did, the fingers released my nostrils and Tim's fat apple slipped right into my mouth. Now I feared I would choke, but he did not thrust the big hard head beyond my wide open mouth and tongue, and I was able to inhale some air, more out of panic than anything else.

Jesus Christ, how did I, a thirty-year old law enforcement officer, straight and married, wind up with my partner's sticky, fat fuck tip, lodged in my mouth? Someone pinched my left tit and then scraped their fingernail across the rubbery tip, and out of sheer helpless pleasure, my tongue thrust forward to lick my lips, but instead I was suddenly laving the big dick knob stuck in my mouth, slurping all around the firm ridge and underneath where the sap dripped. Oh fuck, it was leaking like a sieve and the pre-fuck was coating my tongue, making me feel even more like a bitch.

"Yeah, that's it Brian," Tim purred, his voice sounding hypnotic. Controlling. "Suck on my knob like it's a baby's bottle, like it was Laurie's tit. Yeah, that's it baby... flick that long tongue of yours. Oooohhhhhh yeeeaaaahhh... feels, good buddy, take care of your partner, suck his big dick..."

Tim began a gentle rocking of his hips while he continued to whisper shit. Those powerful glutes of his gave just enough thrust to force the fat prick knob deeper in mouth, making it into a new cunt, getting it stretched and accustomed to male prick. Between my legs, my own cock now throbbed helplessly and someone's rough fingers were inside my briefs, gently grazing my piss lips, helmet and flange, keeping me tingling with the awful tickle, but unable to get any satisfaction or relief. Now another finger was definitely toying with my anal pucker, scratching through the hairy portal, searching for my virgin slit. Only my doctor and my wife's fuck finger had ever even touched my anus, and now this thick male digit was prodding, scratching and flicking it. AAAAAHHHHHHHH... NNNNNoooo... it seemed like it was a snake, searching for a resting place, seeking somewhere to hide, but unwilling to rest until that search was completed. And my tits, my aching tits...! My wife had occasionally run her hands up my chest, and yes it made me feel like jumping out of my skin, but it had always been so quick.

It all made me think back to when I was a kid, and a cousin had used my nips to teach me about masturbation. We'd visit their family during the summer and when I was thirteen and he was twelve, I woke up one hot summer night to feel his finger plying my teenage nipples. The sensation was so strange and sensitive that my cock erected immediately and by the time we fell asleep he had masturbated me to two ejaculations. For the rest of the summer it would begin with his fingers on my tits and me surrendering to his rough fingers and sucking mouth. But we were kids and I was so much bigger than him that if he wanted to relieve my scum filled teen nuts, no harm, no foul. I figured he was cocksucker and the next summer I told my mom I did not want to go with the family to visit my Uncle. That was the last I had seen of him and the last time a man had touched either my cock or my tits. For that matter, it was the last time anyone had played with my tits, since I figured it was a queer thing.

Now these shadowy figures, including Jessie and Tim, were working my prick, my tits, and touching my sweaty ass pucker. My head was swimming, my body tingled, and my balls were roiling with scum. I needed to shoot my cum, but no one was ready to give me relief. Instead, my partner's fat fuck tip was lodged in my mouth, bulging my cheeks, leaking up a storm, and I was playing his cocksucker... OH FUCK... I needed to be rescued, but there was no one in sight to help me!

Tim withdrew his bulbous knob from my mouth, wet and sticky from my spit and his pre-sap, and then pulled me back up to my feet. I lost my balance. As my head was spinning out of control, and as I fell backwards toward Tim, Jessie deftly grabbed my legs, lifting me off the ground. Tim pulled up his jock and his slacks and then they carried me out of the room and back toward the crowded bar while Tim resumed frigging my rigid dick through my briefs. I was unable to make a sound because just as I was lifted off of the ground and opened my mouth to blurt out a slurred protest, something was shoved into my mouth. Whatever it was, it was smooth and round, and covered with small holes which allowed air to whistle through. But at the same time it filled my open mouth, and then was buckled behind my head. I was 'whistling Dixie' through the gag, but no one could hear my protests. Men in the bar laughed and pointed at my helpless form as I was unceremoniously carted through the room dressed in nothing but my briefs and a ball gag while my tits and dick continued to be massaged.

Tim leaned down, and whispered into my ear as I was carried through the crowd. "Feel good, buddy?" I yelled at him as best I could, but all that came out of the air holes of the ball gag, was a whoosh.

Tim and Jessie both laughed out loud, and the hand continued to jerk my insistent boner, rasping the cotton material of my briefs, now soaked with my copious pre-fuck, over the fat knob of my aching dick.

"Look who's back, boys!" Jessie yelled out to all in the bar, and they hooted and howled as I was carried into the room. Someone had set up a long wooden platform, raised like a table off of the floor and covered with what appeared to be a plastic mattress. I was plopped down on it, my butt snapping against the plastic surface.

"Let's see what Brian's hiding under his briefs," Tim said as he slowly peeled the front of my briefs down and let them snap under my roiling nuts. My cock deflated slightly as I was manhandled onto the table, but was semi-hard from all the previous fondling and it slowly rose up when exposed to the gaze of Brian and Jessie and others milling around to watch my humiliation. There were whistles from the crowd around me as my big knobbed boner curled up and out, the knob still sticky from my previous drooling.

"My partner here is a big homophobe," Tim said, "but if I'm not mistaken, he's got a boner that needs lots of attention!" He stroked thumb across the wide helmet of my now fully engorged prick and used the juices I was burping to baste the tender knob. He used his other hand to cup my sweaty hanging nut sack. My dick twitched wildly from the ticklish sensation of his rough pad and yet it ached for more, my hips involuntarily rising off the table in search of a more lingering touch.

"Well, well, well," Jessie said. "Looks like Agent Ryder's gettin' off on this!" He reached down and grabbed my dick, sliding his hand along the snaking curve up to the flaring head, letting his palm glide over it, screwing his fist around the tip and capturing the sticky pre-sap that continued to drool from the wide piss lips. I hunched up at his fist, hoping, even as I was revolted from this queering, that he would continue to masturbate me. But as soon as my ass rose to plunge deeper into his rough palm, he let go and allowed Tim to snap my briefs back up.

Now I felt his hand slide under the leg band beneath my ass, his long, thick index finger probing between my butt cheeks and into my ass crack. Shivers began to course up and down my spine, and now my ass plunged down as if seeking something to itch deep inside my crack.

"Let's see if we can get him to beg for it guys, okay?" he asked, as they both grasped my hairy legs and shoved them up to my chest. From the hoots and howls in the crowd I knew I was about to lose the last shred of my male dignity. Two other guys grasped my thick ankles, one scratching his fingernail across the sole of my big foot distracting me and causing me to wriggle to free my legs. While I was pre-occupied, Tim's unerring finger slipped under the elastic of the leg band and right up to my anus, and his nail scratched back and forth against the hairy little knot. He lectured the guffawing crowd.

"First I'll wiggle it on that nice tight asspucker of his." As he did I moaned, my dick tenting my briefs and jerking back and forth, creating a wide wet stain from the fuck slop I was juicing.

"NNNNNnnnnnooooooooooo... aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh... aaaaaaagghhhhhhhhh... ooooh, shit... fuck... AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH...!" I squealed into the gag as he rubbed his calloused digit against my previously untouched man pussy, teasing and tickling it.

He continued to frig my ass entrance, and then from all the sweating, his finger seemed to just slide into the betraying hole.

"Look! There it goes. In just a bit!"

"Unnggghhh----FUCK!!!!" His finger was barely in my ass but I still cried out. It hurt slightly, but at the same time there was something else I could not describe. It reminded me of something I had completely forgotten. When I was in high school I had to have a physical for the football team. They sent me to some country doctor who seemed to me to be a witch doctor. He found every way to poke and prod my body before he was through and I ended up ejaculating from his finger up my butt. I was fucking hot and embarrassed, but he told me to calm down or he wouldn't approve my physical for the team. I wanted to punch him, but I was sixteen and needed the fucking physical to play.

That prick of a doctor worked my fucking hole like it was a whore's cunt and he told me had to get a sperm sample before he was done. I just remember his fist sliding up and down my prick as his finger rooted up my ass, making me grunt and shoot scum like a teenage punk. I'd forgotten that asswipe doctor and that horrible experience until now. Tim's finger was bringing it all back, bringing back the way my ass actually fucked that doctor's finger and how strange it felt, making me grip his finger with my ass muscles and compelling me to drive my butt down so it could force his wriggling, rough digit to scrape something way up inside me.

"AAAAAAGGGGHHHH... oh no, oh stop... oooooooohhhhh ffffuuuuccckkkkkk... aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh shit...!" My own yells brought me back to the present.

"See boys, even helpless he's a natural," Tim said. But I think he needs something up there. What you think... huh buddy? That's what my big-dicked partner needs, something up his boy pussy to help scratch that itch..."

I struggled and bucked. "Now don't pull back yet, or it will slip out," Tim said as he slapped my ass.

"Let's see if it goes in further." He slid it in up to the second knuckle. "Oooohhhh... Yeah! Just like that, boys. You like that Agent Ryder?"

That was it. My cock was so hard it forced my briefs away from my stomach and my cock thrust up and curbed out of the elastic waist poking up and into my navel. The well filled with my clear slime and the knob was obscenely expanded. One of the guys forced a microphone to my face, and as I squealed and moaned and begged the entire room got to hear my pleas. At the same time I arched my back in a mixture of sweet pain and some kind of deeply perverse pleasure. Sensing my capitulation, one guy unbuckled the ball gag and pulled it from my mouth and another guy with a microphone put it up to my mouth to catch my whorish groans. "I... I... uhhhh... ohhhhh... shhhiiiittttt... Please... ohhhhh yeeaah, oh Jesus... fuck... Oooooohhhhh... aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

But before I could beg him to take his finger out, he slid it in even deeper.

"What was that, Brian? Please what? You want me to fuck your ass?" The crowd chanted for him to do it. "You're a hungry little slut, aren't you? All in good time," he said, as he jammed his finger all the way in. "I'll fuck you, but first I wanna make sure you're all lubed up."

Then he pulled my briefs all the way off and put them on my head like chef's hat. With my legs still propped up on he got down on his knees and lifted my nut sack. I didn't know what the fuck he was doing until I felt something wet on my ass. What the fuck?! He was licking my asshole! He kept pushing his tongue in, flicking it all around. I'd never felt anything like that before. The bottle of poppers reappeared and was shoved up against my nostril.

"Nnnnooo..." I moaned, thrashing about. I turned my head and saw that most of the guys had their pants and underwear down, stroking their dicks. There was one long thin, curved prick with a fat dick head right next to my face, throbbing and leaking. I looked up to see Jessie smiling down at me.

"How you doing, Brian?" he asked, patting me on the head and rubbing his fuck plum over my weakly thrashing head, coating my cheeks and lips with his slime. But I couldn't protest or anything because of that wet, thick tongue, sliding back and forth over my shit hole, wriggling against my anus, causing me to gasp for breath and moan constantly. And those fingers had returned to my tits and someone was still scratching at the soles of my feet, making my toes curl. I was falling, falling down a deep, dark hole and my body was surrendering completely to these fucking faggots!

Tim was eating out my ass and causing my hips to buck into his face, sucking and slurping, and my eyes rolled back in my head. "He loves it, guys!" Jessie yelled out. "He's fucking getting off on it! Looks like our straight agent is digging some queer action!"

Just as I opened my mouth to say 'no' once and for all, Jessie's cock erupted in a huge cum. The wide piss lips opened and volleys of sticky scum bolted from the hugely expanded knob, splattering all over my face. The first load landed directly in my mouth and the next load hit me right between the eyes. Before I could react he shoved his still spurting dick right into my mouth and pulled my head close. I gagged on his big dick and tried to spit out the salty cum, but I couldn't. I ended up swallowing it all down, and fuck if my tongue wasn't unconsciously laving his fuck tip as it spurted and spurted into my mouth!

Suddenly the group of guys flipped me over. "I think its time for Agent Ryder to take a ride," Tim said sarcastically. His finger had joined his mouth and was tickling my ass pucker as he chewed and sucked me silly. I was on my knees now and my head was resting on the sticky plastic mat on the table. My hands were pulled down towards my ankles, and I felt something spreading my legs slightly. My ankles were being tied or buckled to a smooth bar and my wrists were now attached to the same fucking pole. My ass was stuck straight up with my legs spread, my dick hung down slight, curving up and fully erect. My big nuts were hanging down between my thighs and my hairy hole was spread for everyone to see. My size twelve feet were dangling over the edge of the table, the soles fully exposed. I was now their bitch captive and all I could think of was that my balls were aching from the need to cum. A hand grasped my boner and, gripping just the fat knob, began to thumb it back and forth making me desperate to thrust my hips toward the sweet ache. Someone else reached under me to scrape his fingernail against one of my tits and other fingers scrabbled back and forth over my wriggling feet. I howled helplessly as these sensations drove me wild, panting and squealing from each different touch that make by cock leak copiously.

"EEEEEeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiieeeeee... aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiii... nnnnoo, stop... stop... ssssttttoooopppp... aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...!" My wailing was music to everyone's ears, with my long toes curling, my dick burping, and my ass grinding. I was a faggot's fantasy. A big-dicked boner boy, out of control and helpless.

What happened next was my worst nightmare. I heard cheers coming from behind me and in my half-drugged, sex-high state, I turned my head to see Jessie wheeling in a cart. It was a steel cart, like the one's you see in a dining hall, and on it was a weird contraption of some sort. I couldn't make it out clearly, with my head turned sideways and down on the plastic mat-trussed and ass-up, but it kind of looked like a kid's toy. I mean, the chassis of whatever it was looked solid, like some type of machinery, but there was a projectile coming from one end of it. Maybe it was toy cannon, but that didn't make sense. But fuck, nothing was making sense to my drugged and hazy brain. Why were they bringing in a toy cannon?

The cart was pushed out of my vision and behind me. Then the awful truth came clear. Something was touching my ass-pucker... it was a blunt object of some sort, and it felt cool against my anus. It wasn't too thick, but like Brian's finger, it parted its way through my hairy trough, and nudged the sensitive opening. At that moment both my nipples were scratched by rough fingernails and my attention bolted to those rubbery electrodes permanently affixed to my pecs that seemed to manage my drooling dick. At that same moment, something slender was inserted into my ass, just beyond the sphincter, and it felt like a cool, soothing liquid was being squirted into my asshole. Whatever it was, the thin nozzle that introduced it was removed, and the thicker, blunt headed object was back at my shit chute.

Once again, those awful fingernails were at my tits, and now the fingers were pinching them gently as well, and someone's thumb grazed back and forth over my roiling dick knob, making my toes curl. When some fingers began to scrabble and scratch my big feet and the smelly chemical was stuck under my nostrils, I hardly felt the blunt object slide past my previously resisting anal entrance. I yelled for them to stop, but the object stopped just after it was inside me... and the fingers continued to drive me to distraction, so much so that I was almost unconscious of the slender object probing slowly and insistently up my hole until it nudged that funny place inside that made my cock flex and caused me to grit my teeth from the intense sensation. Almost the same moment I whined from the feeling, I heard a small motor seem to come to life and the thing inside me started to throb.

"AAAAAAhHHHHHHH, what the fuck... get it out... aaaaaaaahhhhhh... nnnnnnnnooooooooo... STOP!... STOP IT NOW... aaaaaaaggggghhhhhh!!!!"

That wicked thing inside me buzzed like it had life and it bumped and grinded against that spot deep inside me that I understood now was the prostate that the doctor had searched and found when I had my high school physical, and that Tim had been fingering earlier. "OH JESUS... Tim... get it out... help me... oh fuck... what's happening... HELP... HELP... AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Little did I know that Tim was behind me turning the dials on the machine on the cart, and it was Jesse who was thumbing my aching prick meat... rubbing what someone said was my clit.

More of the stuff under my nose was inhaled as I gasped from the sensation that made me involuntarily squeeze my rectal muscles around the wriggling probe deep inside me, and soon I was grinding my hips unconsciously, as I had against Tim's finger, trying to dislodge the buzzing thing, and at the same time compelled to make it rub against my whorish spot that made my prick drool like a faucet. When the probe suddenly began to move back and forth, losing its touch with my prostate, and then banging into it as it slide back in, I lost control once and for all.

"AAAAAAAWWWWWWWW FFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCK... MOTHER FUCKER... AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH... OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!" I remember briefly girls I had screwed who squealed every time my pecker slid back and forth against their clits... making them beg me... and I loved it. Now I was begging, it was my voice that was wailing into the microphone, fucking my hips at a furious pace against the unrelenting motion of the buzzing, sliding probe that was screwing my asshole to heaven. Whatever Tim was doing with that cruel machine, he would fuck my hole and bump my prostate just so... pushing me to the edge and then, just when I couldn't take it any more and I needed to squirt cum, he pulled back. And then over and over again.

The crowd began to chant again. "Fuck him! Fuck him! Fuck him! Fuck him!" And Tim obliged them, twisting the dials on the console of the fucking machine, making it speed up and slow down, vibrate more then less, its cock rhythmically screwing me and pushing back and forth, in and almost out of my abused rectum. While the small brown bottle was back and forth under my nose and the rest of my now willing body was tickled, scratched, jerked, and rubbed, I whined and squealed for the men who laughed and commented about my helpless surrender.

"Yeah... look at the big trooper, fat-dicked and fucked...!"

"He loves it...!"

"Fuck him deep... Oh yeah... look at him... Jesus... he's a natural...!"

"Pinch his tits... look at his toes curl, yeah... scratch there... someone stick a finger into his navel and fuck him there too!"

Between laughing and the lewd, nasty talk, the deep voices seemed to revel in my subjection and willingness to perform for them.

"Breath deep," someone said. I sniffed in the bottle and my mind continued to fly.

My body rocked in time with the erratic pace of my fucking. My mind was still whirring from the drugs and the poppers. I was moaning and grunting like a whore. The crowd whooped and clapped. Under my body, something was placed under the head of my dick and I felt it as my hips moved back and forth, fucking my overwrought prick in every direction searching for a fist that would soothe the ache. Whoever was holding the paper cup could hardly keep up with my dick's spastic movements.

While the machine continued it work, hands were suddenly all over my body lifting me and twisting me at the same time. I yelped as the probe bashed briefly into my prostate as my body was turned... but now I was on my back, face up... my legs up in the air and splayed, and still tightly bound to the bar that held them apart. My wrists were stiffed cuffed near my ankles. A pillow was put under my lower back to support it and the damn machine kept its pace, working and screwing me like a mechanical bull.

My long, fat shaft now curved stiffly up above my navel, pointing almost to the cleavage between my hairy pecs. My tits were fully exposed to the rasping fingers of the men around the table, each taking a turn to pluck, pinch, twist, or scratch my stiff, rubbery nipples, protruding and begging for attention from the hairy curve of my muscled pectorals. My big feet were thrust up into the air and the pale, soft soles were fully exposed to the scrabbling fingernails that raked back and forth and underneath my long toes. Now my big bag of hanging nuts were easily accessible and someone was scratching their fingernail back and forth along the heavy nut itself, making it ache and forcing my cock to flex. The cup was placed back under the bulging head of my prick helmet and a fingernail gently scratched under the piss lips and protruding flange. I was writhing like an eel on the table, my hips continuing to spasm as they fought the wondrous sensation deep within my bowels. I was gasping and whining, squealing and moaning... and when a couple of guys leaned down and stuck their slimy tongues deep into my ears... I was over the edge!

The pressure in my ass was overwhelming, and coupled with the pressure in my balls and the tingling in my throbbing cock, I couldn't take it. My long, wide piss lips parted as I wailed at the top of my lungs.

"AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE... OOOOOHHHH, AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG... MMMMMMMMMMMNNNNNNN!!!" My scum rocketed from the head of my prick in long, thick shots, filling the small paper cup to one-half. Volley after volley bolted from my aching dick, but no one helped me by milking my dong. Instead, the grossly expanded prick knob just squirted my sap out in long strings and then cascaded over the still itchy dick head, drooling down. The guy holding the cup scraped the edge of it all around my ticklish knob, too sensitive to be touched, and made me bounce on the table to avoid his care in getting every drop of my spunk.

After my ejaculation, I sort of collapsed on the table trying to catch my breath and recover from the stimulation that had frazzled my senses and my nerves. I begged for the fingers and the vibrating prod up my asshole to stop. Instead, I was treated to yet another dose of fag torture. The little brown bottle was thrust under my nose and the moving object in my ass now picked up speed and shuddered more forcefully. The damn thing was being turned to a higher setting. The fingers on my tits and feet never left; the ones on my tits were now joined with sucking lips and the same with my toes. A calloused rough fist, lubricated with some type of cream or gel, began to slide up and down my shaft, pumping life into my still tumescent prick.

"OH FUCKING JESUS... NO... STOP... NO MORE... OH FUCK... SHIT... LEMME GO... NOT MY DICK, IT'S TOOOOO SENSITIVE STOP... AAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!

The fuckers laughed and put the microphone up to my mouth so everyone could catch every word. Later, I learned that they were doing more than projecting my voice throughout the room, they were also recording it. I would live to regret every word that I burbled in my drunken and drugged condition.

The salacious tongues and lips, the tweaking fingers roaming over my torso and body, that unyielding fist pistoning up and down my bloated shaft, chafing the fat knob and palming it, and the relentless humming of the vibrator lodged deep in my clinging rectum, turned me into a babbling fool. Every time I tried to get myself under some semblance of control, the brown bottle showed up under my nose, snorted into my lungs each time I gasped from another touch. Within what seemed like minutes, I was rising steadily up the hill to another ejaculation.

When Laurie and I screwed, we never went for round two. I'd fuck her silly, make her cum a couple of times, and then I'd blow my wad. My prick head was too sensitive to take any more action. I'd roll over and go to sleep, satisfied with my cum. But these bastards were determined to torture another load out of my nuts. I could feel the pressure... that damned vibrator was banging the shit out of that spot in me, making my ass muscles clench from the awful sensation and making me helpless to react to the fist whirling over and around my fevered prick tip. My toes stretched out to escape the scrabbling fingers, and the tips of my tits were stone hard as suddenly my cum had arrived. I squeezed my ass muscles hard on that fucking dildo being twisted back and forth in my man cunt, and thrust up in my bonds into the fist that was roiling my fuck stick... and then like a volcano I blasted another round of scum from by sweaty nards.

"AAAAAaaaawww, ooooooooohhhhhhhhhh... aaaaaAAAAAGggggghhhhhHHHHHH!!!!" Like bullets, the thick, white strands ropes from my piss lips and were quickly deposited into the little paper cup that already held my first load. The fist gripped my writhing snake and aimed it into the little opening, making sure every drip and drool was captured, scraping the edges of the cup around my knob to get any of the dregs... driving me wild. All the while the fingers and lips continued to assault me.

Once again I collapsed back onto the table, wriggling as best I could to escape the post cum sensitivity of my tits, my toes, and my dick head. But I did not know what kind of hell I was in. I was in inmate in a prison and these fuckers were going to make my big boned-up body pay and pay. Before they finished, I had cum two more times... screaming at the top of my lungs each time. The last only produced a thin drool of almost clear slime, but that did not prevent my prick from going through the bloating and responding to the latest fist that was torturing it.

When they finished my fourth cum, my body was pushed to the edge of the padded table and my head was pushed over the edge. The blood rushed to my head from the awkward position and I felt woozy. My mouth opened reflexively to gasp in some air, and just as I took my breath and before I could close my mouth, someone pinched my nostrils shut. I opened my mouth in a panic and the nasty cup filled with my fuck slop was poured down my throat. I tried to wrestle my head free, twisting frantically one way then the other, but the fingers holding my nostrils would not let go and the cup followed my every move, until someone took a spoon and scraped the last drips into my mouth and wiped it on my lips. I thought I would vomit, but if I did I knew I choke to death, so I swallowed... oh god... I swallowed my own shit... my jism. Aw fuck, I was nothing but their bitch whore... milked and tied, tit pinched, and ass fucked... oh Jesus... I couldn't believe what was happening.

They finally pulled me back onto the table and released my bonds. Jessie slipped my briefs up over my aching cock and led me back to the dressing room in silence. I was too out of it to say much of anything and just stood there dumbly. My cock was still hard and obscenely tented my briefs. My fucking cock was still leaking like a slut's cunt. Someone handed him a shot glass when we reached the bathroom and he put it to my mouth. I didn't resist when he poured it in. I knew it was most likely drugged, just like the others. A few of the other guys were milling about laughing at me, calling me names. There I was, a good 4 inches taller than the tallest guy, easily 20 pounds heavier, drunk and fucked up, still moaning like a bitch in heat.

They stood me up at the urinal and someone fished my cock out of my briefs and held it, stroking it, until I pissed. It took forever cause my dick wouldn't go soft. I just had to squeeze it out... slowly but surely. Then they turned me around and headed me back towards the bar.

Manny, the faggot waiter walked up to me. I opened my eyes, which were reflexively opening and closing in my stupor, when I heard his voice. He smiled as he saw me, covered in sweat and cum, standing in the grip of the other men. I dropped my head, humiliated, and weakly begged him to help me, still in a daze and weary. I could see his hand squeezing the huge hard on in his black shorts. He came closer to me.

"Nice job back there punk," he lisped. "How about a little action while you're still in the mood?" He laughed and pointed down to my prick that, despite four ejaculations, was still obscenely tenting my briefs.

I groaned. "What? No..." I was spinning again. I felt goofy and giddy and light-headed.

"Aw, come on," he cooed, sinking to his knees and lowering my briefs. My cock popped out and he took it into his mouth. I felt the guys on either side of me gently pushing me down and before I knew it I was on my hands and knees, with Manny was lying under me sucking away. Jessie was standing in front of me, stark naked. His cock was jutting straight out and I swear it was at least eight inches and was all throbbing and bobbing up and down, the head sticky with juice.

"Open wide, fuck face," he said, forcing my mouth open.

Another bottle of poppers was placed under each of my nostrils and the now familiar high overtook me and I moaned. Jessie rubbed his sticky, soft knob back and forth over my lips, coating them with his goo and as I opened my mouth groggily to protest, he slid the monster in. Shit, the knob was so wide I thought my jaw would crack, and almost instinctively my tongue began to baste the fucking thing, sliding over the bloated glans, getting Jessie to oooooooo and aaaawwwwww as he slid further down to opening of my throat. I was impaled on his fuck stick and the guys holding me pushed my head back and forth until Jessie made a guttural groan.

He swore at me as he shot wads of jism down my throat. "Yeaaaahhhhh you big dicked fucker! Drink my slop... eat it you cunt... oh eat me so good... YEAH!

After Jessie slipped his big meat out of my mouth, long strands of his scum clinging to my lips and chin, he wiped the knob over my face and eyes to drying it off.

I barely remember the rest of the night, other than the parade of cocks that invaded my mouth and ass.

The next thing I remember was waking up in a bathtub filled with warm water. I was being soaped up by Tim and Jessie and they were rubbing, pinching, tickling and jerking my helpless, exhausted body. But thankfully, they did not try to bring me to another cum, just make me bone hard again as my whorish cock betrayed me as soon as the soft, slippery lather was worked into every pore and follicle.

Then when they were done and had redressed me in my uniform and I was beginning to get my senses back, they had one last surprise. Through bleary eyes I saw Jessie pour something onto a white cloth. Shhiiittt... I moaned. Not more of those fucking poppers. He put the cloth to my face but it wasn't poppers. I jerked back at the smell. It was chloroform!

"Mmmpphhh...!!" I muffed into the rag as he pressed it tightly over my nose and mouth.

"Ssshhh..." Jessie said, stroking my hair. "Just breathe deep, Brian. That's it. Come on... time to go beddy-bye."

He kept the rag to my face until I was barely aware of what was going on. When he lowered it Jessie stepped in and put a bottle of beer to my mouth, forcing me to drink. The whole time Tim had his hand down my pants, kneading and roiling my balls. Most of the beer ran down my chin and onto my uniform.

They took the bottle away and put the chloroformed cloth back to my nose and mouth. My exhausted body could offer no resistance and within a matter of seconds or so I felt myself succumbing to the chloroform and drifting off. There was a rushing noise in my ears, like the ocean surf. And as it got louder and louder the less and less I was aware of my surroundings. Then nothing.

I woke up that next morning to a pounding headache. Whoah! What a fucking wild dream. Or was it? I was on my living room couch under a blanket in nothing but my underwear. But my dick was hard, my ass was sore, and my mouth had a weird taste in it. The events of the night before rushed back to me all at once and I sat bolt upright.

Laurie was sitting in a chair across from me, sipping coffee, an angry look on her face. She asked if I remembered coming home last night and I shook my head no. She said there was a knock on the door at 3:00 a.m. and she came down to find Tim and Jessie holding me up between them, totally shitfaced and passed out. She had them put me to bed on the couch because I reeked of booze. As pissed as she was that I was so drunk, especially on a work night, she told me she was grateful that I had a partner like Tim to make sure I got home okay. If she only knew what had happened.

I wanted to puke as I shaved. I washed out my mouth, thinking about all those cocks that had been sawing in and out of my thick lips the other night. I was fucking steamed. After some coffee and breakfast I began to regain my composure. I'd go down to the station and call Tim out... we'd get this over quick. I was not going to partner with someone who'd get me fucked up and do God knows what to me. He was a fucking faggot and I sure wasn't gonna drive around with him like nothing had happened. We were through... at least that's what I thought.

The pounding in my head kept going as I drove to the station. I should've called in sick because I felt like I was still drunk and drugged.

I walked into the station, holding a hand up to my aching forehead and feeling a churning in anticipation in my stomach. I looked around but didn't see Tim, so I walked into the locker room and began to put on my uniform. I was down to just my briefs when I noticed a large manilla envelope on the floor of my locker. I bent down to pick it up, sat down and opened it. Inside was a DVD and a sheath of pictures. Pictures that showed in graphic detail the events of last night. I looked at the DVD. Did they videotape last night? I didn't remember seeing any cameras...

Suddenly the locker room door burst open and Tim and Jessie walked in, big Cheshire-cat grins on their faces.

That did it. "What the fuck are you two smiling about?" I cried out, jumping to my feet, my fists clenched. I didn't wait for an answer and lumbered forward to deck the both of them. But I was still messed up from last night and Tim easily pushed me backwards, causing me to stumble in my bare feet. Then he grasped my shoulders and pulled me to a sitting position face to face, his knee nuzzling my nuts.

"We had so much fun this last night, we thought maybe you'd like to play some more later on."

"Fuck you," I spat, trying to slug him in the gut.

He quickly slapped me up across the side of my head, dazing me for a moment, and whispered huskily under his breath. "Now don't be a fucking fool... you wouldn't want guys to start coming in here and asking what's going on, now would you? Do you want them to know why you've got a beef with me? Why you're so pissed? I don't think so... especially since me and Jessie have copies of that DVD and those pictures you're looking at. Enough to share with anyone who might be interested. Get my drift buddy?"

I groaned, my head still pounding, and leaned forward, my forehead resting against his shoulder for second before I pulled free and gave him the dirtiest look I could muster. But fuck, what else could I do? They had me by the nuts. Oh Jesus, what had happened to me? They'd turned me into some kind of freak!

I panicked when he pulled a white rag from his pocket and pretended to thrust it over my nose and mouth. More chloroform! But Tim was just clowning, making me sick with fear. I slumped and sat down on the bench in front of my locker. Tim continued to whisper, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming into the locker room.

"That's better, Brian," he said. "Now be a good boy and play nice. We're gonna go on our shift just like usual. And from now on, whenever I ask you to do anything, you're gonna be a good boy and do just what I ask... aren't you? And when I speak to you and we're by ourselves, you're gonna address me as "Sir"... understand? If you fuck up, then you'll just pay for it later. So remember big boy, it's "Sir" to you from now on when we're alone, or with Jessie here. Now get dressed, and let's get going."

"Fuck you," I mumbled again, but like a robot I began to dress.

"Now, now, we can't have any of your potty mouth," he said, and he slapped his palm against the taut cheeks of my ass covered by my clean white briefs. The slap resounded throughout the room and my ass clenched... something about the feel of his big hand near my ass pucker, making my dick harden and drool. I stayed facing the locker, not responding to his slap, not wanting to show them my boner. But Tim came right up behind me, reaching around to grab my bulge.

"Look, Jessie," he said. "He's got a hard on!" He was cupping my nuts while his thumb was stroking my hard shaft. When he roiled over the tip of my cock, I instinctively hunched over. I felt Tim's hard dick in my asscrack.

"Yeah, you're nothing but a little whore, boner-boy," he rasped into my ear. His breath was warm and his wet tongue flicked at my earlobe. I heard myself moaning. Fuck! What was happening to me?!

"Come on," Jessie said, waving the packet of photos. "Let's move this into my office so Brian can get a good look at what we have. Grab your uniform, Ryder."

I was mesmerized by the tape, seeing myself used and milked by a bunch of fags, sucking cock... hearing my voice beg, and whine and squeal. I felt like I was in a trance as I watched and I found myself getting hard and dripping as I saw myself succumb to Tim.

And finally the worst part came. I couldn't believe what I was watching! I'm sitting on Tim's kitchen table in my underwear, legs spread out like some two-dollar Tijuana whore, drinking a Corona. And I'm smiling! I'm fuckin' laughing like it's Christmas morning! Tim's voice off camera tells me to grab my dick and I do! I shove my hand down my briefs and start jerking off! My dick is hard as a rock and I'm jacking myself off! He asks me if I like it and I nod! He tells me to lick the cum off my hand and again I do! Every time my dick burps out pre-cum I wipe it up with my hand and lick it! Then he tells me to take my underwear off and fuck myself with the empty bottle and I do! I'm fucking myself with the neck of a beer bottle. A fuckin' bottle!

I was practically in shock as the scenes flashed in front of me. I looked over at Tim and Jessie. They had leaned me back against the couch in Jessie's office and were rubbing me. I was moaning.

"Yeah... listen to my boner boy purring like a fuckin' cat," Tim said as he worked my underwear down and off and gently slid first one and then two fingers up my ass. "Feels nice, doesn't it, Brian? You like it when your cunt is being frigged, huh buddy?"

I groaned again. "My cunt? I don't have a cunt!" I slurred. The fingers kept a steady rhythm, sliding over my aching fuck nut and making me clench and force more sap out of the slick knob of my throbbing dick. Eventually I was lying down on the couch and he lifts my legs onto his shoulders. His fingers had me bucking and moaning. It was fucking embarrassing to realize that this once tight ass straight ass was now a dick slave to my own partner. My dick was bobbing up and down and I said something like "I'm gonna cum" when he pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock in. My eyes were closed and tears were rolling down the side of my face. But inside I knew I craved Tim's big dick. Even though I was humiliated and begging him to stop, I was also groaning and moaning like a border bitch in heat! He thrust in back and forth, long dicking me slowly and deeply to make sure I felt every inch of his bone and that fat knob rubbing back and forth over my joy spot.

Back and forth, back and forth. His hand circled just my cock knob, twisting and screwing his fist gently over and around the fevered tip like an oversized clit, jacking me off while he fucked me hard and deep.

"Oh yeah, cunt boy, oh yeah," he moaned, his voice low and sexy. "We're gonna have a great day on patrol, aren't we?"

"AAAAAAAhhhhhhhhh.....nnnnnoooooooooo.....aaaaaaagggggghhhhhhh...."

As we drove patrol that day Tim made me drive shotgun with my pants and briefs at my ankles and my cock hard and dripping. I was not allowed to touch it, but was required to drive around with my boner showing to Tim all day. He told me that from now on I'd be stripped wherever and whenever he told me to, unless I wanted my family, friends, and the job to see the pictures and DVD they had made. I cried at first, but he told me to save it... I could cry when he put me over his knee and paddled my ass for any infractions of the rules he would be setting up for me.

We had lunch at some hole in the wall Mexican place and afterwards he took me to the manager's office where four Mexican teens, probably between fifteen and seventeen years old, paid Tim to work me over. I was forced to stand there and let them strip me down as Tim took pictures. Afterward he sold them off one by one to the boys. Then they tied me tied me to the desk. Tim gave them all finger massagers for each of their fingers. But these massagers had been modified. They not only vibrated, like the ones that used to be advertised on television and in mail order magazines, but they had short tufts of brush bristles, about an eighth of an inch high on the tips where the pads of the fingers should be.

Oh God... those bristles were so awful... the fuckers each took up a position around my big body and went to work laughing and calling me names in Spanish, "puta" and shit like that. Oh fuck, those pricks found every spot where I couldn't control myself. In two or three minutes they had me howling, squealing and laughing helplessly, as my prick rose and curved to the split between my pecs, and drooled sap like a faucet. Under my toes, across my heels, in my instep, causing me to curl my long toes tightly to avoid their cruel fingers. They worked deep into my hairy armpits, inside my navel, under my chin and into my ears. They tied my fingers out so they could work my palms... oh Christ... and then, when they'd reduced me to a helpless wailing cunt, one of them stuck a lubricated bristle finger up my butt and searched out my prostate while the rest descended on my coned, rubbery teats and fat, wet glans. That's when I started to scream, and when Tim gagged me with my own socks so the boys wouldn't be interrupted when they brought me to a wild, bouncing cum, where I shot crud five feet into air. Have you ever had your cock knob scrubbed with soft bristles just after you've shot your load? Lemme tell ya, it's agony... I whimpered and whined into the gag while they continued to search out any spot that would make me lose my mind.

By the time they finished my first cum I was covered in sweat all the way down to my toes. Then Tim told the punks to wipe me down with a rough towel to make my body even more sensitive so that when they started again, this time with stiff paintbrushes, they could make me beg and promise anything. I sucked the toes of all four of them. While I sucked one, the others were using their toes to masturbate me, flick my tits, and tickle my ass pucker. Punk kids, making me into their toe suck slave.

They put my briefs back on and made me shoot into them. Twice! I had to spend the rest of my shift in cum-soaked underwear!

From that day on Tim also determined when I screwed Laurie... only twice a week! At work I was often made to wear either a cock cage or a special harness for me to wear under my briefs that held a small anal prod that was inserted into my rectum. The fucking thing had a remote control, and sometimes to amuse himself, he'd switch it on when we were in briefing in the mornings, making my eyes bulge, and forcing me to clench my ass around the buzzing thing as it tickled my fuck nut and made my trapped cock drool even though it wasn't able to fully extend in the cock cage. Oh fucking Jesus... I was a cock slave. The worst part was walking through the station those days, my cock rock hard and a small wet spot on the front of my uniform pants.

A couple times a month Jessie and Tim take me across the border where they have a seedy room reserved in a dumpy motel. They make me take a Viagra and drink Tequila shots until I'm drunk. I have to strip for them and masturbate my cock until it's rock hard and ready to shoot... then I have to stop. I'm told to lie on the bed, raise my legs, my shoes and socks still on, as well as my border patrol hat, and slide a vibrator up my asshole. I switch it on, and slowly must screw myself until I get close to ejaculation... then I once again have to stop. They sometimes make me do this for an hour, and I'm only allowed to cum if I put my legs up over my head, and slide my own stiff prick into my mouth to shoot off. That way, I can drink my cum and suck on my cock head until I nearly pass out from the tickling sensation.

Tim saves me every other month for a special night with him and Jessie. I am taken to one of their apartments where I am required to strip naked, and put on a frilly white apron. Then I must get each of them beers, then take off their boots and socks after a long day of work. Next I must help one of them strip, then join him in the bathroom. There I must get on my knees and wash each one in the shower, washing their asses, their hair, cleaning under their nuts and washing out their armpits. Then after I dry them, I am required to crawl on my hands and knees to each, suck each of their long thick toes while they flex them in my mouth. Eventually I lick their assholes, now clean from the shower, sniff their nuts, and then suck their big, rampant pricks till they squirt the thick, tangy spooge down my throat. Usually I have to suck them twice, but I have a choice if I would rather sit on their prongs till they fuck the cum from my aching prick which I may not touch as it throbs each time my prostate is punched.

Other times, Tim keeps me for himself. He calls me cunt boy and boner pup. He'll make me sit on his lap in my briefs and he'll put in the DVD they made of me. While he gently pinches and tweaks my tits, he scratches his index fingernail over the thick ridge of my cock head, making me squirm and grind me ass. Then he'll whisper, "Yeah, Brian," as his tongue darts into my ear, his warm breath making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "I told you you'd like this."

He makes me drink beer laced with roofies and sometimes a bit of Viagra. Then he breaks out the poppers and makes me hold the bottle under my own nostrils and inhale deeply.

As I lose more and more control, Tim slips a finger under the leg band of my underwear and I moan, arching my back while his other hand continues to scratch and pinch my hard tits.

Usually after I cum he gets me to make an interview for his collection of "Brian's Blogs." The camera shows me up on my hands and knees on his coffee table, a dildo in my mouth and my own fingers up my ass. They're rocking back and forth in some kind of sick rhythm, and my big dick is lolling up and down, drooling copiously.

There's no hope for me. I'd be fired for disgracing the uniform if anyone sees the DVDs or pictures. I can't go to the cops because of the footage of me happily fucking myself. Tim says I might as well get used to it, cause from now on I'm his. He owns me and my dick and my ass and my tits. Any time he thinks I've jerked off or played with my prick without his permission, he turns me over his lap and spanks my ass like some little kid. That just bones me up and makes me drool sticky pre-sap... and then I have to lick it off his legs. Tim says that big-dicked homophobes need to learn their place. He says that with the success he and Jessie have had with me, they think they might have a good part-time hobby. I understand Marty Jamison who works the weekends is a bigger asshole that I was. I figure pretty soon he'll be working next to me on the floor servicing Tim and Jessie. I wonder if Marty has red hair all over? When we had barbeque last year at the beach I saw that he had strawberry hair all over his legs and even on his long, thick toes. He looks like a hairy motherfucker and I've been wondering if he's got it kind of darker red around his dick and deep inside his ass crack. I know I shouldn't be thinking about this shit, but Tim's got me doing and thinking stuff I never dreamed I'd ever think about. Oh shit, my prick's hard again...

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