Draining Darren Chapter 1
The summer session began in late May, about two weeks after the semester ended. I'd be staying on campus the entire summer, taking a few classes so I could graduate on time. I'd transferred from a community college, and the university hadn't taken all of my credits, so if I wanted to be classified as a senior in August, I had some catching up to do.
It wasn't going to be anything too difficult--just a public speaking class and an intro-level chemistry lecture. Boxes I needed to check that wouldn't take too much brain power. But I did need to stay on campus for the summer, and the school made me move into a different dorm building with a randomly assigned roommate. The roommate I'd had all year was going back to Montana for the summer, and was moving off-campus in the fall. He and I weren't best friends, but we got along okay. He let me hang out with his friends when I was still looking for my niche right after I transferred. We were both gay, but he had a long-term boyfriend, and honestly there was never any tension. We weren't each other's type. But he was clean, quiet, and friendly enough, and I was not too thrilled to be spending the next 12 weeks living with some random dude.
All I knew about my new roommate was his name and what I could glean from his bare-bones Instagram profile. His name was Elijah, and he looked profoundly heterosexual. The only photos he had up were random nature shots and a few group pics of him and his bros at parties. He was pretty hot, though, for better or for worse. It looked like he and the boys went as cavemen for Halloween, which meant he was basically shirtless--he looked like he had the physique of an Olympic diver. He wasn't a student athlete, which meant he must practically live in the gym. Maybe that'd be good for me. If he was off drinking protein shakes and working out muscles most people don't even know they have, that would mean he would not be in our room bothering me.
And I was pretty sure he was going to bother me. When I got to our new room on moving day, I discovered Elijah had somehow beaten me to the punch. He'd dropped all of his stuff on one of the beds, a huge pile of open suitcases and loose clothes, plastic trash bags filled with shoes and a bunch of finance textbooks. (As if everything else wasn't bad enough, he was a business major, too?) I took a deep breath, put in my headphones, and got to work unpacking my stuff on my half of the room.
"Hey, man!"
I flinched. I'd been pretty zoned out listening to music and folding clothes, so I hadn't noticed him come in. I turned, and almost burst out laughing. There he was, wet hair, smiling and reaching out his hand, wearing just a towel. I shook his wet hand.
"Hey. Nice to meet you. I'm Darren."
"Elijah! Sorry I'm all wet, I just got back from the gym and I took a quick shower. Looks like we're gonna be roomies, eh? Also, sorry about, you know," he said, gesturing vaguely at the detritus on his bed, "I'm usually not this messy, I promise."
"No worries! Moving day is always chaotic." I returned his smile. I started to feel like a little bit of an asshole for having judged him so harshly from his Instagram. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and once we got to chatting, I realized we actually got along just fine. We didn't run in the same social circles, but that didn't mean we couldn't be friends.
**
After Elijah had put on some clothes and we put away most of the rest of our stuff, we went to the dining hall for dinner. I was surprised it was still open during the summer, but Elijah told me that the university actually had a pretty big summer housing program. College students from all over the country stayed in our dorms when they came into the city for summer internships. Before I could ask, Elijah told me all about his internship at an investment firm. I was a little embarrassed to admit I was staying on campus just to take some required classes.
"Oh, that's awesome!" A lot of things were "awesome" to Elijah, but he never came across as anything less than genuine. "You get to just take a couple easy classes and chill? Sounds like a great summer to me."
"Yeah," I said, "but I'm a little worried it might get boring. None of my friends are still on campus, and there's not much to do, you know? But I'm thinking of getting a part-time job. I could use the extra cash, too."
Elijah gave me a strange look, almost like he was trying to see if I could be trusted with a secret. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, and bit his lip. He leaned in a little closer over the dining hall table and lowered his voice.
"There's this place I've been working part-time since, like, spring of freshman year? But with this internship, I'm scaling back my hours a lot. They want me to pick up a few shifts this summer, but I don't know if I'll really have time. I know they're looking to hire someone new, do you want me to give them your info?"
"Yeah, I mean, what kind of job is it?" I asked.
"It's this super fancy place downtown, sort of like an exclusive club? You'd be helping with events, you know, setting up, folding napkins, waiting tables, that sort of thing. Maybe taking coats. Plus, you know," he smiled again, hinting at something I did not understand, "some odd jobs here and there, whatever they need. The pay's great, and the members are all loaded, and they give huge tips. One of them actually helped me get this internship. I think they'll like you!"
For all his many strengths, Elijah was not particularly skilled at either deception or innuendo. Watching him try to lie or make a joke was a little bit like watching a dog try to open a sliding-glass door--kind of cute, but not very effective. Clearly, something more was going on, some secret he had to keep that he was desperate to share with someone.
Now, years later, I think about that conversation in the dining hall sometimes. Looking back on it, I don't know what I thought Elijah's secret was. I considered briefly that it might be some sort of money-laundering front, or a drug thing, but I never seriously expected it to be anything criminal. But even if I had, I still think I would have said yes and gone with him to that first meeting. The truth was, I was bored, and here was a chance for excitement. I was never going to say no.
"Alright, sure! Give them my info," I said. "Sounds like it'd be perfect."
The following Saturday, Elijah I rode the bus downtown. At his suggestion, I wore the nicest clothes I had--a sport coat, a dull blue button-down, a pair of slacks, and some pitifully scuffed loafers. I didn't own a tie. To my great surprise, Elijah had pulled an iron and an ironing board from under his bed, and ironed my button-down and my slacks for me.
"You learn a thing or two about this stuff when you work at a fancy place like that. And don't worry, if you get the job--when you get the job--they'll give you a few sets of clothes to wear during your shifts," he'd said. "Think of it like a uniform! Except it's, you know, coats and ties and stuff."
Elijah wore one of his "uniforms" on the bus, and it was the same thing he wore to his internship during the week (in his words, again, "coats and ties and stuff"). He looked both handsome and oppressively professional, like he was going to step off this bus and right into the offices of a hedge fund. His brow wrinkled in concentration as he tried to explain as much as he could about our destination without giving too much away.
"We're going to see Mr. Barker, who's basically the manager. I mean, he is the manager, he manages both--well, he's in charge. And you might meet a few other people, like maybe Dr. Peters, but that's--they'll explain everything, okay?"
I just nodded.
We arrived at our destination after walking a few blocks from where the bus dropped us off. It was a grand old brownstone building, maybe five stories, nestled between two mid-rise office buildings.I realized I'd walked past it before without ever knowing what it was. The only thing distinguishing it was a small plaque by the door that read, "LIBER".
"Liber?" I asked. "Like...liberty, or something?" At this point, I had a picture in my mind of the club's "members" as a bunch of old "fiscal conservatives" sitting in leather chairs and drinking scotch.
Elijah chuckled. "No, it's actually some ancient Roman god, or something? Mr. Barker can explain it if you ask him. I mean, don't ask him, actually. Not today, at least." I didn't have time to respond to this before Elijah charged inside. I followed him in through the heavy wooden door.
We walked through a small dim hallway past an unmanned coat-check and into the main lobby. It was a grand little wood-paneled room with thick wine-colored carpet that muffled our footsteps. A wiry man in his thirties sat behind a sort of reception desk on the back wall in between two doors.
"Elijah! Welcome. And this must be the new recruit?" The receptionist looked at me with a critical eye.
"Hey, Marty! Yeah, we're here to see Mr. Barker. Our appointment's at 11, but we're a little early."
"That's alright, Elijah. You can just go straight up, he's ready for you."
We went through the door on the right and took the elevator to the top floor.
Mr. Barker's office looked as old and wealthy as the rest of the place. The walls were lined with bookshelves and wood panels. The man himself was in his late forties, tall, completely bald, and quite buff. His suit was tight and looked very, very expensive. He stood up to shake our hands across a desk made of some impossibly heavy polished wood, then motioned for us to sit in the two leather chairs facing him.
"Elijah, good to see you. And you must be Darren, yes? Thanks for your interest in the position," Mr. Barker said, maintaining direct eye contact with me.
"Yes, thank you for agreeing to see me, Elijah's told me--"
"What has Elijah told you?" Barker interrupted me. His eyes shot briefly over to Elijah, who was beginning to look quite nervous, and then back to me.
"Um, not too much, actually," I said. I realized how true this was, and how little I knew about what I was getting into. "Just that the job would be sort of--catering? And maybe taking coats. That sort of thing."
Mr. Barker smiled briefly and humorlessly, then resumed his inscrutable expression. "And what has Elijah told you about the club itself?"
Again, I struggled to find the right words. "Well, he told me it was a members-only club, and that you all host events, dinners, that sort of thing."
At this, Barker actually laughed. "Well, that is all technically true. Part of your job would essentially be catering, and we do host quite a few events in the ballroom downstairs," he said. "But there is another side of our organization, where your service would most be needed." Barker finally broke eye contact with me to pull out a manila envelope from underneath an empty silver bowl on his desk and took out a few pages.
"This is a non-disclosure agreement," he said, pushing the document toward me across the desk. "Before we continue, I need you to sign it. All it says is that what happens in this building stays in this building. That includes this interview, even if you don't take the job."
I skimmed the document. It was simple enough, but I signed without really reading. Again, I was never going to say no. I slid it back across the desk.
Barker looked up at me, his eyes still boring straight into mine. Elijah still sat in his chair, watching Barker.
"Stand up for me, would you?"
I stood.
"Take off all your clothes."
"I--what?" It took me a few seconds to process what he was saying. Maybe he was joking?
"You heard me. I need you to get completely naked for me right now. Completely. Remove your underwear, too, and your socks."
My mouth was hanging open, not really believing what I was hearing. I turned to Elijah, who was now looking up at me expectantly.
"It's okay, man. Trust me, it'll all make sense," he said. I saw something new in his eyes, something that I recognized as lust, and I realized I may have misjudged him even more than I previously thought. I turned my gaze back to Barker, who had leaned back in his chair. He was almost smirking now.
Well, I had wanted excitement.
I started to take off my coat, and Barker motioned for Elijah to take it. I hesitated, then kneeled to untie my shoes. I stood back up and slipped them off. I hesitated, and then I undid my belt, handing it again to Elijah. I unbuttoned my pants and pulled down the zipper, then let them fall around my ankles as I reached up to start unbuttoning my shirt from the collar. Something inside me was pushing me to do this as quickly as possible, and I fumbled the buttons as I worked my way down. I was not wearing an undershirt, and my torso was completely exposed as I shrugged my shirt off my shoulders. I stepped out of my pants, which were still around my ankles, and pulled off my socks, too, all while handing everything to Elijah, who was folding everything neatly on the floor next to him.
I now stood awkwardly in my underwear before my roommate and this strange man, both of whom were now staring at my crotch. My underwear--plain grey boxer-briefs--were showing the bulge from the semi-erection I was starting to develop. Barker looked up at me again, and cleared his throat, gesturing to my crotch. I took a deep breath and pulled them off, reflexively covering my cock with my right hand as I handed Elijah my underwear with my left. He was openly grinning now. It was clear he was loving every second of this.
"Put your hands behind your head," Barker said. I obeyed, and now I was completely exposed to both of them. My cock kept stiffening, not quite fully erect, but more than a semi now. Barker stood up now, and I could see his own bulge in his tight suit pants. He motioned for Elijah to stand up, too, and then he came around to the other side of the desk. His eyes examined every inch of me, head to toe.
I had been so caught up in the moment that I had forgotten to be insecure, but when Barker started to inspect me, I started to worry. I was slim, but not in the best of shape--certainly nothing like Elijah, who looked like he was cut from marble. I was also particularly hairy for my age, and I wondered what Barker would think of the hair that covered my chest and my stomach and part of my back. I wondered what he would think of my bush, which I had had no reason to trim in months. My cock was fairly thick, and from what I had observed of the men I'd had sex with, slightly above average in length. (It was just shy of 7 inches, but I usually rounded up.) Still, Barker's silence as he walked in a slow circle around my body, Elijah's hungry eyes looking me up and down--it made me nervous, and my cock began to soften again.
Then, Barker came back in front of me, and brought his face very close to mine.
"You'll do quite nicely," he said, giving me another one of his thin smiles. "All we need from you is what's in here." I gasped as Barker squeezed my balls and started to gently massage them with his fingers. My cock started growing again, and now stood fully erect. Barker stood back a little to give my body another look, but kept his gentle grip on my balls. Precum started to drip out of the head of my penis and onto his wrist. He nodded, finally removing his hand, and licked the precum off his wrist. I snuck a glance at Elijah, who was staring straight ahead and trying to hide his own erection.
Barker picked up the silver bowl on his desk and examined it.
"Okay, Darren. Here's the last stage of your interview. You're going to ejaculate into this bowl," he said, handing the bowl off to a very eager Elijah.
Again, I was shocked. The examination had been one thing, but to jerk off for Barker in front of Elijah? I didn't have time to respond, because Barker had gone around his desk to pull something else out: a bottle of lube.
At this point, I was rock hard, and still dripping pre-cum on the carpet. The thought of how weird it all was crossed my mind, but I didn't care. I wanted this. I grabbed the lube, poured some in my hand, and began to stroke my cock. Barker leaned against the edge of his desk in front of me. Watching.
My breathing became heavy very quickly. This wasn't going to take very long. The lube mixed with my precum as I jerked faster and faster.
"Don't forget," said Barker, "ejaculate into the bowl. Don't waste a drop."
I looked down at Elijah as I kept stroking. He was sitting at the edge of his chair, holding the bowl in front of him while he stared at me pumping my cock. His mouth was slightly open and he looked like he wanted to swallow me whole.
"Turn to Elijah," Barker said. I obeyed, stroking as I positioned myself directly in front of Elijah.
"Elijah, grab his balls." Elijah nodded, holding the bowl out with one hand and reaching out to gently caress my balls with his other. I moaned. I was getting close.
"I'm going to--I'm going to cum soon," I said, panting. Elijah held up the bowl directly in front of my cock. My shoulders hunched forward and my legs trembled as my orgasm began. Ropes of cum shot into the bowl, and my breath came in heaving sighs.
I straightened up, weak in the knees, but as soon as I took my hand off my cock, Barker stepped forward and grabbed it. I gasped as he squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger, starting at the base and moving toward the head.
"We need to get every last drop," he said, and he did, coaxing a few more drops of semen into the bowl. Finally, he released me, and I took a step back, feeling pleasantly drained. Elijah reached down to adjust his erection, which looked like it was pressing uncomfortably against the zipper of his slacks. Barker handed me the bowl to hold, then reached over to push an intercom button.
"Marty? Send them in," he said. Immediately, the door opened, and two men in suits walked in. I had never felt more exposed--completely naked, still mostly hard, holding a bowl of my own cum in front of four men. Still, the newcomers barely looked at me. One of them took the bowl from me, and I was horrified to see Elijah handing the other one all of my clothes. Elijah took a bundle from him, and then the men left the room before I even fully understood what was happening.
"What--"
"Don't worry," Barker said. "You'll get your clothes back in a few hours. You're hired, but your employment is still conditional on a few tests. You'll need to pay a visit to our doctor. Elijah?"
Elijah handed me the bundle he was holding--a blue hospital gown. I hesitated, then put it on. It was completely open in the back, and my ass was still exposed, but it was better than nothing. I still didn't know what this place was about, who these people were, or what the meaning of this strange ritual had been. But I was in it now, and there was no turning back.
"Come on," said Elijah, "I'll take you to Dr. Peters. We'll explain everything."