Breeding Bitches Chapter 3
This story is a work by a previous Nifty author, Dave, who has agreed to allow me to rewrite and revise and continue his original story "Taking Tops". I do NOT have his permission to share his email, but I am personally happy to hear from anyone that wants to comment or critique – just don't be an asshat about it. I loved the premise of his story so much, and it hit home on so many levels (I actually had to ask if he knew me personally) that I couldn't just let it sit unfinished and idle.
If you don't like or are offended by taboo and D/s subjects - move on. This story is MOSTLY fiction, although there are definite elements that have happened in my life, at least. Any resemblance by name or description to anyone else dead or alive is purely coincidental. If you are not of legal age or if this content is not legal in your area, please do not read this.
No condoms were hurt during the making of this story. Seriously though, it is assumed all characters are on PrEP, and I although I do not judge whether the readers practice safe sex or not – no one else's place to judge but your own – but I do hope that you are sensible and take precautions regarding the spread of diseases. Please stay safe, and remember that your body is your own temple. Treat it as such. I hope you enjoy the story and I welcome constructive advice and criticism. I also love a good compliment too. Email me at naughtyslutstories@gmail.com
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Thanks, P. *insert favorite heart emoji*
Main Character: Pete, 25, 6", black hair and green eyes. Swimmer's build, Gym-honed, lightly hairy body with a well-developed and toned chest and arms, much larger than average and naturally smooth bubble butt. Average (around 5", but insists it's 6" and average thickness) dick but knows how to use it.
Breeding Bitches, Chapter Three
I woke the next morning, sprawled out on my stomach, my head pounding like high school marching band drum. My mouth tasted like (what I imagined would taste like) a urinal. My ass was seriously on fire, my nipples felt sore and puffy, and I tried to bring myself together enough to become aware of my surroundings.
I felt rhythmic shifting of the bed, and the quickening panting of someone else. Mark was still here, shifting around, feeling his body contact on my back and on top of me, and then the pulse radiated in my hole.
The asshole was fucking me.
"What the fu...OH!" After a deep thrust.
"Hold on, almost there..." He panted in my ear.
"What are you doing? Get off me!" I started squirming around, trying to dislodge him.
I felt Mark's washboard abs and meaty pecs on my back. His hands grabbed my wrists and pulled them above my head. I felt his sizeable arms, muscles flexing, keeping my hands pinned above my head. He brought his mouth to my ear and started panting, nibbling on my ear and all over my neck.
Then...I started feeling something else in my ass. It was a throbbing, but not painful. It was like last night when...Kevin.
"Oh, fuck..." I started panting. I wasn't going to let it happen again. I couldn't. This wasn't me, right? I fought back with every fiber of my being. "Oh, OH, hell...Aw..." I mewled like a pathetic bitch. My ass was getting wet, all on it's own?
Still fighting back against that feeling, I was overcome with a heat that spread from my hole to my entire body. I immediately broke out in a sweat. My heart was pounding and my mind glazed over.
"Yeah...there it is...You're feeling it now, aren't you Pete? Yeah, keep feeling that, babe." Mark lustily growled in my ear as his cock kept dancing around in my ass.
I lost all sense of time. There was just the heat. Me, in heat. For this. "Yeah...Kev..." I mindlessly breathed out, a whisper barely audible over the frantic slapping noises Mark's pelvis made as they battered my ass and the squeaking of the bed. All motion stopped; the fucking was at a standstill momentarily.
"Fuck. You got it bad, Petey. Your own bitchfriend is fucking you, and in your head, you're still getting fucked by Kevin...it's pathetic, dude. I don't know whether to be insulted or honored..." Mark trailed off as he resumed pummeling my poor, battered, broken hole.
"Don't stop...yeah, like that..." I whined in a high pitch.
The fuck continued for several more minutes. Every fiber of my being was feeling incredible. My hole, truly inside, was becoming more and more `wet'. I didn't understand how that was possible...was my own ass, itself, cumming somehow? I could feel pulses of precum drizzling out the slot of the chastity tube. My body felt like a furnace itself, like it could power the whole building for the next year. I just crumbled and gave into the feelings. He was a bit too heavy and strong for me to dislodge anyway. And did I TRULY want to do that? I couldn't understand it. And why was I thinking of Kevin?
Mark was right. I was pathetic in those moments.
Finally; "Oh yeah...oh yeah...hold on, hold still...OH YEAH TAKE IT BITCH!" I felt the heat spread into me as he climaxed, shuddering as he came in my ass.
I laid there silently, trying to get my mind together and mostly succeeding, as he drew himself together, pulled out of me, and flopped on his back to the side of me.
"Damn. It's been a while since I have been able to do that...been too busy on the receiving end, if you know what I mean..." He chuckled and trailed off.
INSTANT RAGE, came back to me as my senses returned and my mind started working rationally again. I turned my head to look at him, fire burning in my eyes. He laid there lazily next to me, looked at me, and I saw a hint of fear in his eyes. His expression softened, and he placed a hand on my ass.
"Look, I'm sorry. I was trying to wake you up to see if you would let me...you know...? But you were out stone cold, so I figured what the hell, he's taken one dick, he can take another." I continued to glare at him through his rambling. "Oh, give me a break! I was horny! We're supposed to be together you asshat." He scrambled a defense.
I (gingerly...FUCK my ass was sore...) got up, off the bed, stood next to it. I looked him in the eyes, then cast my eyes down to my locked dick. "The keys." I said as menacingly as I could, which seemed to be pretty, because he visibly gulped and got off the other side of the bed. "I want the keys. Now."
"I'm serious. I don't know where they are. I put them on the coffee table last night, you know, after...after locking it on you." He put his hands up in front of him, as I slowly started circling the bed. "I swear to god, I don't know...let's look for them!"
"Get your fucking ass out to the living room now and look them. GO!" I fumed. Raw, seething anger coursed through me as I spat out the words. I was barely controlling my rage at this point. He could see it and jumped to obey.
For the next hour, we looked for the keys. Where they were set down last night. Under the couch. Under the recliner. Under rugs. In the kitchen. In the bathroom. We searched every square inch of my apartment, under every piece of furniture and in every nook and cranny. There were NO WHERE. I found myself getting more heated up as the time went by, going from anger, to frustration, to panic, and finally blaming Mark.
"How could you do this? You lock this fucking thing on me, lose the keys, and then I wake up and you're fucking me? What the hell has gotten into you?" I spat, keeping my voice down and desperately trying to control my emotions. I feel my eyes begin to tear up slightly. I didn't want to break down in front of my bitch. Well, he used to be...never mind...
"Look, Pete, I'm sorry. I got caught up in the moment last night. The sex was just so fucking good! They told me to do it and I just wanted to please them! Didn't you tell me at the club to please them? `Just be good for him, don't embarrass me' were your exact words. And...as far as this morning goes..." He stopped and shifted his feet, taking a somewhat defensive posture. "...I'm not sorry. I wanted to do that for a while, but you were just never open to it."
"I'm still not." I said flatly.
"Ok, well, look. We can't go back and forth over this all day. But I've got a client I have to get to at the gym in an hour and a half, so I have to get going."
I just kept my glaring gaze fixed on his face.
"I'm not going to apologize for it. You really enjoyed yourself last night. It was obvious. I've never seen a guy cum handsfree, especially when they're locked in chastity, before. You can't deny you liked it. So, what's wrong with your boyfriend giving you a wake-up fuck? I've been taking your dick for 6 weeks now, not complaining at all that you seem like you don't care less about mine or me getting an orgasm. You're being selfish. You're being a child, Pete. I'm sorry about the keys and the device, but that's done now. And trust me, it's comfortable. We will find the keys. If not, we can order replacements." He spread out his arms, trying to offer me solace, stepping toward me like he was going to embrace me in a hug.
I moved back. "Just...get dressed and go. I need..." I trailed off. I really didn't know what I needed, so I couldn't finish my sentence.
He just gave me an exasperated sigh, went into the bedroom, quickly dressed, and left without another word.
I got myself collected, did a bit of yoga, got in the shower and cleaned up. The device stunk like cum and was slightly uncomfortable in the tube, so I had to find a way to wash out with it locked on. It was tricky, but I managed to squirt some liquid body wash inside and scrub around with a Q-Tip, then followed that with a strong jet of water to rinse, and another Q-Tip to dry out when I got out of the shower.
My stomach was a bit on edge, so I skipped breakfast. They must have put something in my drink. I didn't normally act like that and shivered as I remembered begging Kevin to keep fucking me as I was cumming. That was so incredibly humiliating.
Then I remembered watching (mostly) silently as Mark was told to lock this little pink cock lock on me. The one I bought for him. Cost me a couple hundred dollars, plus the expedited shipping to make sure it was on time for our month anniversary. Didn't Mark like it? He did kinda bitch about it being locked on the majority of this past week...I thought he would like it. That thought really brought me down. I don't see why he wouldn't. It was pretty comfortable. I put on a jock strap and could barely tell anything was different. No massive bulge in the jock (faint outline, but nothing huge), and when I pulled up my jeans, I couldn't see any difference.
Continuing to get dressed, I thought about more things. Where were Mark and I headed? We were just kind of plodding along through this, having fun and having sex. At least I thought we were having fun. But some of his last words struck me, about being selfish. He was correct, in a way, I suppose. But I thought he liked that? So, where was it going? That needed some time to think on. And where and who were Kevin and Matt? I wanted to find them. Maybe they had the keys.
My last thoughts on introspection while I was on my way out the door to the gym were `Did I really enjoy myself last night? Or was it a fluke, a one off?'. I can't see a top man, muscular, with a nice cock (I don't give a fuck what those assholes said about it last night...I've never had any complaints) actually enjoying getting fully bitched out by two...massively...gorgeous...and hung...dudes. Fuck! I needed to get their images out of my mind. You're a top, Peter. Get a fucking hold of yourself.
I texted Mark, having the idea that maybe they gave him their numbers. Then I could contact them and get those keys back. I was pretty sure one of the assholes had them. It was worth a try.
An hour after I texted him, he texted back *Hey, sorry, was with my client. And no, sorry, I gave them my number, but they didn't give me theirs, just said they would text me*
*Well, fuck.* Was my response to him.
*Yeah, so, what you doing later? Want to get some dinner? Maybe go out for a bit? It's Saturday, so the club will be jumping, but we can still knock a few back and relax*
"Yeah, fuck you, you useless twat." I grumbled to myself, as I walked down the sidewalk on the way to the gym. An old lady passing by me gave me the bird and a scowl.
Sighing, I texted back *Meh. Maybe. IDK. I'm headed to the gym, then I need to get some work done. Maybe the club later.*
*K. See you there at 8*
`Yeah. Don't hold your breath. I'm still pissed about this morning, you fuck' I silently grumbled, and went about my day.
That night, I didn't meet Mark. I ignored the numerous *Where R U?* texts and put his number on silent. Deciding not to go home, I drove down to San Jose, to Bears. I needed to get away from San Fran for a night, and this was always a fun place. Nobody ever much bothered me there in the past (I'm not a bear, so I don't get much action in places like that, nor am I looking for any...not that bears can't be hot because they sure as fuck can be...little cub swinging on your meat `growl'). It was just a good place to go if I wanted to sit there for a while and nurse a few beers. And that, I did. I shut my phone off, put it out in my car, and relaxed. Then nursed a few more beers. By the time it was over, I was dimly aware of my arm flung over the cute twink bartender's shoulders, him guiding me down the street to his place.
"Thanks." I slurred heavily.
"My fault for feeding you too much booze. And thank you for giving up your keys." He responded.
We stumbled/walked a bit more, my conscious self being aware of snippets of the walk, but not all. His place was apparently close to the bar, and he got me inside, laying me on the couch. He stepped into his kitchen area (it was a studio, so pretty open), got a couple bottles of water from the fridge, sat on the couch by my legs and put the water on the coffee table within arm's reach of me.
"You really shouldn't be bringing strangers home, you know." Is what I tried to say, but probably came out more like `You rel shud stragers.' I don't know. I was pretty far gone.
He chuckled and said "I told you. You're not going anywhere tonight. No motel would accept you in this condition, and I was the one that fed you too much beer. You were sober one minute, then on your lips the next..." He let out a heavy sigh. "...just sleep it off. You're safe."
And with that I was out like a light. I woke up several hours later, not really knowing exactly when I passed out. I looked at the clock on the wall and it said 10am. Thank you, making my own hours and getting some work done yesterday. I sat up, and the twink came into the living room from his bathroom. I tried to smile at him.
"You're up."
"Yeah. I'm really sorry about last night..." I started, sitting up, realizing my clothes were gone. I was sitting there, naked, in this twink's studio, wearing nothing but the cock cage. I turned beet red instantly and started stammering. "Look, I know this looks..."
He laughed. "Hey, don't worry about it." Pulling down the front of his briefs, I saw a glint of metal. "I'm locked too. Sir lets me out once every two months for cleaning when He comes to the area. I'm not judging you..." He says, as his eyes rake up and down my body. "...but I am a bit surprised. You carry yourself and act and talk like a top."
"Yeah. Well, I am..." I try to come up with something. "...or I was, I guess? Until this all happened. Look, I'll spare you the details..."
"You already told me all about it last night. Was about the only thing you talked about." He smiled. I suddenly felt more comfortable.
Glancing down at my nakedness, I looked back at him. "Ok, so, um...?"
"Etienne. My parents are from France, but I was born here." He offered.
"Ok, Etienne. I'm Pete. Nice to meet you." He nodded yes. "Where are my clothes?"
"You were a mess, puked all over yourself on the way here. They were sopping wet, so I stripped you outside. They're still out there, I'll grab them and throw them in the wash machine."
"Thanks. Thank you very much.".
He went out the door, was out there for a bit longer than I would have thought to collect clothing, then came back in.
"Um...so this is kinda my fault, but your clothes are gone."
"Shit..."
"Yeah. I'm thinking it was the stray dogs. They are always getting into the trash...they probably came along and grabbed them." I peeked out the door, and sure enough, nothing laying around.
"Well fuck." I sighed.
"I have your car keys and wallet." He tried to perk me up, seeing my distress. "You gave them to me last night shortly before closing, promising you wouldn't drink and drive. I'm really sorry about the clothes, but dude, you threw up all over yourself and they fucking stunk. Like super fucking nasty."
Oh, thank god. But what about clothes?
"Thank you. At least that's salvaged. I don't know how I'm going to get back to San Fran naked though...Pretty sure the cops aren't going to see a cock cage as `appropriately dressed'...Maybe during Dore or Folsom."
"Eh. I'll scrounge you something up. You're not that much bigger than me. Let's have some coffee first and chat. I think you need it."
Sighing, I realized how right he was. "Yeah. Actually, that sounds about perfect."
We sat there for a couple hours, drinking coffee. I was slowly becoming less embarrassed about the being naked in some 19-year old's studio while he had briefs on, covering his own cage. He was incredibly easy to talk to. "Have to be, with this job." He was right. I imagine bartenders need that as not just a skill, but an inborn trait. We discussed the last two days, him poking in occasionally with advice. Apparently, his `Sir' was pretty strict about chastity. He explained that both parties had to be into it, otherwise it would just be forcing your kinks onto someone who had no interest in it. That was reasonable to me. And a light clicked in my head. I had done that to Mark. I enjoyed chastity, but did he? Or was he going along with it because I wanted it? Seemed like the later.
"I just always had a thing for a top deciding when, and if, the bottom was going to masturbate or even get off at all. It was always an attractive idea to me." I said.
"Well, yeah, that's the whole point. How does it feel to be on the receiving end though?"
"Um..." I had to think on this. It was kind of complex. "Well, right now, I'm slightly frustrated just because I want the keys back."
"Are you sexually frustrated right now?"
"No. Not really. Friday night was..." I left it off. I couldn't bring myself to say what was churning deep inside me. I'm not even sure I was fully aware of it at that point. But I had the best sex of my life that night. Nothing came anywhere near it, ever, before. But, pushing those feelings back down inside me was the only thing I could do. THAT WASN'T ME.
"Yeah, that sounded mind blowing. And then it sounded like you got some relief yesterday morning too."
"I wouldn't go that far."
"It didn't feel good?"
"I didn't say that." I said. "And actually, it really wasn't that it didn't feel `good'. It just...wasn't me?"
"Mmmm. I don't know, man. I think you have more to think about on that." He took a big swig of his coffee. "Look, you're six years older than me, but would you mind some advice? I know a bit – a lot – more about all this than you do. I've been a Man's sub since I was 16." I raised my eyebrows, but nodded for him to continue. "I'm not saying you're a sub, maybe, but I'm not the one to make that call. Just that maybe, I mean, you came handsfree the first time bottoming, while you were locked in chastity. Maybe you really...do like bottoming?" He paused. "It's something to think about. I know, guys like you, tend to think we're kind of pathetic. And maybe we are. But...if you like it...?"
"I don't know." I hesitated. "No. No, I just want to go back. Back to the way things were."
"Well, if you find a time machine, let me know. I have a few things to correct myself. But, past that..." He shrugged. "...there is no such thing as `going back'. You're old enough. You should know that by now. Well, that's my advice. Accept yourself. Whatever that may be. And honestly? Chastity is a LOT of fun, for both sides. You'll get used to it, if the keys don't show up. Or you could just cut it off."
I shuddered. No way was anything that sharp coming near my cock and balls. No. Fucking. Thank you. Not to mention completely blowing a couple hundred bucks. I thanked him, finished my coffee, and asked if he had something I could wear. He went to his dresser and rooted around for a few minutes, pulling out a pair of pink booty shorts, a cropped neon green t shirt, threw them at me, and then picked up an old pair of flip flops.
After getting dressed, Etienne said I looked smoking hot `for a bottom', giggled and patted my butt affectionately, saying he was just teasing. I sighed, looked at myself in the mirror, and though `Yep. I would totally fucking ravage my ass, if things weren't so fucking twisted right now'. I grabbed my keys and wallet, and we walked to where I had parked my car, thanking him. He asked me for my phone, which I grabbed out of my car and powered on. He took it, then sent a text.
"Just in case you want to talk. Or, just in case you get out of that device and want an ass to fuck and are down here in SJ. Keep in touch, sexy." Goddamn this kid was starting to turn my crank. Big time. I watched him walk away, his bulbous ass bouncing around in his own booty shorts, wondering what it would feel like to be in that. Then, wondering what his cock looked like out of its steel prison. No idea where that last part came from, so I shook my head, got in my car, and went home.
After a long drive (traffic was particularly horrible today), I got home. There was an envelope taped to my door. Inside it where the keys and a note.
*Hey, Pete. Yeah, here's the keys. Go ahead and unlock. You have permission...for now. Be in touch, Kev.*
Seriously, who the fuck does this clown think he is? I `have permission...for now'? I'm not your fucking sub OR bottom, asshole.
I put the note on the coffee table, and sat on my couch, sitting there looking down at my pink booty short covered (got several cat calls walking from the parking garage to my apartment...how humiliating), pink chastity caged junk, then up at the keys in my hand, then back down, and back up for a few minutes. What the hell was wrong with me? I pulled the shorts down and off, kicked off the flip flops, unlocked and took the device off, carried it into my bedroom and put it deep in my closet. I took a shower, flopped on my bed, and fell asleep watching tv.
Over the next couple weeks, I was starting to get over the whole bottoming thing. Well, I was trying to, anyway...Trying to reason it out to be one, very hot drunk night. Mark and I had sort of patched things up. I wasn't fucking him as often, maybe two to three times per week. Neither of us seemed to be all that into it. I could see the writing on the wall there. He was about to be my ex-bottom. I would give it another week, two max.
Three weeks after the event, Mark had to take off out of town for a month. He had a gig he was being paid really well for (he was a pretty damned good Personal Trainer, to be quite frank) in Los Angeles. Something about an overhaul for a porn star...Franco? Something like that. Anyway, the Tuesday three days before he was due to leave, Mark came to my place for dinner and chat. I wasn't really up to fucking him that evening (actually, I had paid Etienne a visit earlier that day as I had been for a couple weeks now. There was something about that kid that made me hungry for more...), but figured we would either bury the hatchet for good or be done with everything tonight.
Mark got to my place, and I could tell something was off about him also. So, I immediately knew where it was headed. His eyes really weren't meeting mine very much, and his demeanor and body language were distant.
"Want to order Asian delivery? There's a joint just down the block. Probably take an hour tops." I inquired when I sat on one end of the couch, him planting himself on the opposite end and crossing his legs and arms.
"Yeah. That sounds pretty good."
We chatted for a while, waiting for the food, him perking up and telling me all about the gig in LA. Honestly, it sounded like it was right up his alley.
"All those gorgeous porn stars..." He was musing, a few times.
"Yeah. You might be getting some nice cock over the next few weeks, you think?"
"Oh, I'll be trying." He said, then blushed.
"Look, Mark..." I said, and the door buzzer went off. "Ah, foods here!" Saved by the bell. Literally.
We ate in mostly silence. After cleaning up, I said from the kitchen, "So. Mark. I'm glad you came over tonight. There's a few things we need to discuss." I said, walking back into the living room and plopping down on the other side of the couch.
"Yeah. I was thinking the same thing."
"I think maybe we should just...chill? For a while?" I offered.
"OH, thank god. I was dreading having this talk. I'm really glad you said it first."
"Getting dick elsewhere, eh?" I smiled ruefully, reaching across and fake punching his arm.
"Yeah. I mean, sort of. Things are kinda heating up with a couple guys."
"Matt and Kevin." I stated, not asked. I knew there was something going on.
"Yeah..." He was blushing furiously now. "...I didn't want to say anything. It's...it wasn't something I planned or originally wanted."
"Hey, don't be so worried. I completely understand. I just haven't had much of a vibe lately either."
"You're fucking someone else too. Aren't you?" He accused, with a slight edge to it.
"Well, yeah...but you can't be jealous. You just admitted to fucking Kevin and Matt, dude."
"Yeah. Ok. I got it. No harm, no fowl." He smiled. I smiled back. "So...before I take off, I was wondering..."
I looked at him curiously. God, I hope he wasn't asking for one last go. Really didn't want it...fuck, the last time we fucked (Sunday), I actually lost my erection. His hole was fucking sloppy loose and smelled like fresh cum (I had suspected he was taking a LOT of dick at that point), and, even if I was into that, I just wasn't feeling the same attraction. He had basically date raped me that morning after...and while I couldn't deny that I had enjoyed it, I just didn't like the "forced" part of it...did I? All besides the point, I guess. I just wasn't as into him as I once was. The only crazy thing is, I still cared for him. Deeply. Those emotions weren't going away. And I think that's why tears were forming in my eyes.
"...so, can I borrow that chastity thing? I mean, I'll make sure it gets back to you." Well. This was certainly a surprise. Wiping the tears from my eyes and feeling like a fool, I silently went into my bedroom closet where I had buried the damn thing pretty deep behind boxes.
"Yeah, here you go." I said, handing him the case with everything in it. "I mean I did buy it for you, so won't be doing me any good."
"Thanks Pete. And hey, let's not do the emotional thing. We're still friends, right?" He stepped in to hug me.
"Of course Mark. I really do care for you...but maybe not in `that' way so much now."
"Yeah. I got the hint when you couldn't get it up Sunday. No offense, and none taken. The fire for that particular activity died out...but that doesn't mean we're still not good friends. Maybe more, but time will tell."
We said our good-byes, and after he left, I flipped on the TV, mindlessly surfing and thinking about the nights' events. I felt good about it. I hoped he did too. I may have been less than pleased the last few weeks with Mark, but I really did feel a lot of affection for the guy. I just wasn't sexually attracted to him – wanting to fuck him – anymore.
The week after Mark left, I was at a bathhouse getting my dick sucked by a hot, slim daddy on Tuesday evening, and my phone went off. It was Matt trying to call. The daddy looked up at me, and I motioned for him to continue (he was a fucking EXCELLENT cocksucker...guess what they say about aging like a fine wine is true). I waited for a minute for the call to pass, and was lowering my phone back down (after taking a pic of the daddy-sub on my meat), and a text chime came in. It was Matt again.
*What are you up to tonight?*
*Currently getting a blowjob*
*Let's see*
*NO. Bye.*
*I'm not going anywhere, boy* `BOY'?? Fuck you, dude.
*I'm not your boy. Now leave me the fuck alone.*
And with that, I angrily fed daddy the load he had been working out of me. He thanked me; told me it was delicious. I zipped up, patted him on the head, and went home.
The next night.
*Come on, Petey. You know you enjoyed Kevin's cock busting your bitch cherry.*
I didn't respond. Then, the next night at 9pm:
*What's up tonight?* Fuck, this guy just doesn't give up. At least he wasn't pushing immediately tonight.
*Nothing. Early morning tomorrow. Clients to take orders from, headed to bed now* I responded, which was the truth.
*Well, that's no fun* He texted back.
I shut my phone off, preferring not to chat with him anymore. I slept good, woke up refreshed, but in the back of my mind, I was turned on by Matt's consistent badgering in a way when I was going through the previous days' messages. I chalked it up to feeling sexually wanted and went about my day (a BUSY one).
Later that Friday afternoon:
*K, Pete. Kevin and I want to apologize. You're clearly still pissed. You need to get over that. We're actually pretty good guys. Caring tops. Can be good friends? So, let's let by gones be by gones. We all have more in common than you're willing to admit.*
As I read the wall of text, I just resigned to the fact that maybe, just maybe, he was right. I didn't like carrying around anger baggage. It was self-defeating.
*Ok. Yeah. I agree. Let's put the past behind us.*
*EXCELLENT. So, how about we go out tonight and celebrate? Powerhouse should be banging in a couple hours. Then, if you want to, we can all come back to my place and chill afterward...no pressure about anything, just the 3 of us hangin.*
I thought it would be presumptuous at this point to broach the subject of sex, and that I didn't (???, right?) want any. Although, truth be told, I had a hot flash right then but suppressed it and cleared my head.
*Sure. Meet you there at 9?* My response.
*Heart/kissy-face emoji.* His last text.
I got ready, trying to throw together an outfit that wouldn't seem out of place there (which, I didn't own any leather, but I did have a neoprene jock, white tube socks, black biker-ish boots, and the neon green crop top that Etienne had sent me home in, which actually really set off the green in my eyes and looked great on my olive complexion). I got dressed, fixed my hair, looked myself over in my full-length mirror, and agreed `Yeah, I'd fuck him.'. I decided to forego jeans, since this was a pretty much anything goes gay leather bar and would actually be out of place if I had more on, I assumed. I called for a ride share since I planned on drinking and was off. The driver chuckled a bit when I got in. "Planning a hot night out." He wasn't asking. I just smiled and nodded sheepishly in return.
I got there, and Matt and Kev were already at the bar, bottle of beer in hand. Kev spotted me, whispered to the bartender, who started mixing a Vodka Cran, and came over and pulled me to them through the somewhat lose crowd. It wasn't terribly jam packed right at that moment, but was definitely busier than I had expected, and I looked down at myself and kind of blushed, being in this get up in front of so many horny guys (I was DEFINITELY getting the `I'm going to eat you alive, kid' looks from several guys in the bar).
Matt spoke up. "Goddamn you look hot."
"Thanks. Couldn't decide what to wear. I know this place, just kind of threw this together at the last moment." I said back, trying to sound confident, catching a whiff of his cologne and natural scent that almost immediately made me weak-kneed.
"Well, it works. Maybe a little bottom-ish...?" Kevin tepidly put out.
"No, man. I'm a top. Same as you guys. Let's be cool, eh?" I firmly stated. Or so I tried to firmly state. Not sure how successful I was.
"If you say so." Matt grinned at Kevin. I nervously sipped my drink. I don't think I've ever felt quite this exposed. And Powerhouse was NOT my regular hangout. I really didn't know the ins and outs of the dress code (had heard about it, but was only there a couple times, and only fully dressed for the clubs after the bars), and I was clueless as to what consisted of `top outfits' and `bottom outfits' in a leather bar. I was, without a doubt, out of my element here, and I had a growing suspicion that Kev and Matt knew this beforehand, and that's why we were HERE, vs. elsewhere. But I dug down and tried to get some confidence, and bore through it.
"So, what do you two normally get up to here? Or do you hang here much?" I asked.
"Yeah. This is one of our favorite places. So many hungry bottoms. Some subs, some slaves. But all hungry bitches." Matt explained
They proceeded to give me a tour and settled at a table in a not too brightly lit area of the bar. Things were going well; I was feeling increasingly comfortable with them. The usual gay banter flinging from our lips. I was getting progressively tipsier...these drinks were kind of strong. So, I started to slow down. But, every trip one of us made to the bar for refills, I was lagging behind the guys.
"Dude, you gotta start catching up. We're on #5, and you're still nursing #3 with two in front of you!" Kevin yelled over the roar of the music, which prompted a chorus of `slam it, slam it' from the guys surrounding us at various tables or just standing around.
I sighed, smiled at them, and downed #3, took a breather for a moment, then downed #4. No way was I going to be showed up by these two. I tried to keep up after that, but I kept getting tipsier.
"Guys, I gotta slow down. You're on beer, I'm on Vodka..."
"Yeah, ok, we'll give you a break, boy." Matt said. And there it was again. `Boy'. I chose not to respond to that, just gave him a dry look. But, that gorgeous face. Aw, hell...
But, no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't going to last much longer. My saving grace, or at least so I thought:
"Check that guy out, Pete. If looks could do anything physically, you would be getting raped by him right now." Kevin whispered in my ear, nodding at a slightly less than fit bearish dude, standing at the bar. And he was right. The dude's eyes were literally raking over every square inch of my body like he wanted to destroy me on the spot. I shook as Kev's hand brushed my belly, then went around to lightly brush, then slap my asscheek. His smell was intoxicating. I remember those hands not so long ago...
Trying to gain back a bit of control, "Yeah, no thanks man. Not bottoming. I'm a top." I slurred, but slightly less convincingly. At least, to myself.
"So, how did you like the fun we had. And be honest." Matt flat out commanded. Damnit, that soothing and somehow at the same time, authoritative voice.
I felt my will breaking. My inhibitions had been gradually falling to the ground around me, nervous sip of my drink, one after another. I felt like I had to...Kevin pulled me close, giving my lips a quick swipe of his tongue, and holding me.
"Yeah. Um...it was..." I paused. I was trying to fight off the sensations...wait, what was I trying to fight off? Suddenly, I realized that Kevin had his fingers in my crack, lightly brushing up and down, dusting against my hole. I shivered and tried to continue. "...it was a good one off?"
"Seemed like you thought it was more than good." Matt said flatly. "You had Kevin's cock coring out your pussy, and you were begging him to keep fucking you. Remember? Remember begging for it like a whore?"
"Oh..." I shuddered. "Yeah...that. I was...just playing along?" I tried weakly. "But...I'm the same as you guys...I am a top..." I had to pause every couple words. The feelings of Kevin massaging my pussy...wait, no, my ASS...were just so intense. My neoprene jock was very tight in the front, I realized.
"Dude, we have fucked a shit ton of guys, and you are a bottom. Maybe the best we've ever seen." Matt said soothingly. How were these assholes so damned seductive?
"Naw guys...I just..." I tried to defend, shuddering. "...it was just a hot night...Oh god..." I felt my dick throb in the pouch.
"You were braying like a beast, spraying your little load everywhere, locked in that..." Kevin nodded at the hot pink Holy Trainer, suddenly pulled out of Matt's pocket. "...hands-fucking-free. Tops don't do that."
"NAA NAA NAA...COME ON...COME ON" The words to the song starting, ringing through my head, calming the sea of roiling emotions..."FEELS SO GOOD BEING BAD...". Yes. Yes it does, I literally `FELT'.
I hung my head in a mix of lust and shame. I sobbed, whimpered, as Kevin let mat come around behind me, Kevin reaching over and pulling my chin up, and my mouth toward him, jamming his tongue in my mouth. I felt Matt reach around, pull the front of my jock down. I pulled back from Kevin's mouth, and looked down.
A growing crowd around us watched silently, Rihanna singing "S&M" in the background, noticeably less loud than a few moments earlier, the words being spoken to me, easily heard by everyone in the bar.
"Tops don't take cock. Not the way you were taking it. AND LOVING IT. Begging for more, spraying your little load everywhere without this..." Matt growled in my ear. He punctuated by slapping my hard cock, then pinching that same spot, my dick going from full mast to shriveled, useless appendage in a matter of seconds. "...being touched once. Admit it..." He slipped the cockring on, then the tube...and I watched in morbid fascination as he expertly slipped the two pieces into their grooves, sliding the magic locker into the slot, and locked it shut. My fate was quite literally sealed at that moment in time, at that moment in my life. I knew it was coming. I couldn't' resist. I didn't want anything more in that moment, than exactly what was happening. "...you want this. You. Need. This."
I stared. At my once again locked junk. I slowly looked up, and around, at the crowd. A few were cheering. Almost all of them were leering at me lustfully. I was pure red from humiliation and desire at the same time. But, why, did this turn me on? Why wasn't I putting up more of a fight? Tops don't do this. I was ALREADY drooling precum, like a dam had burst inside. Matt pocketed the keys, leaving my locked, pink cock on display for everyone for a few minutes, turning me in a full circle, showcasing my new status, then finally pulling the front of my jock up and pulling me back to his chest again.
As if sensing the waring emotions in me, Kevin stated "Stop fighting us Peter. You should be honored. It's not every day we do this. All these men are witness to your downfall. To your liberation. We rarely ever treat our boys to such an event like this. Feel proud, now, and stop trying to resist us. You know deep down you can't. It's not in your nature."
It was like all the booze in my system was gone at that moment. My head cleared, and I uttered a whisper that sounded like it echoed throughout the bar:
"Yes. Yes Sir." I said softly as I melted into Matt's embrace, his hands coming up and pinching my titties, rubbing his massive jeans covered bulge against my exposed ass cheeks.
"This one is going to be FUN." Kevin snarled before latching his mouth onto mine, savagely kissing me and biting my lips for a moment, before letting go...
NEXT UP: PETEY BOY'S SUBMISSION AND PUBLIC FUCKING?!?!? NO WAY, NOT GONNA HAPPEN! OR IS IT? AND WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THIS ETIENNE DUDE? HOW CAN A 19-YEAR-OLD BE SO WISE? WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN WITH MARK? ARE HE AND PETE TRULY FINISHED? HOW IS PETER GOING TO DEAL WITH THIS NIGHT IN CHASTITY, AND IS IT JUST FOR THE NIGHT? STICK AROUND, YOU'LL FIND OUT!