DUDE'S GOTTA PAY HIS DEBTS - PART 3
I am 32 years old, British/Australian living in London and working as a high street solicitor. If you'd like to read about my first sexual encounter with a bloke, check it out here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/dirt-in-the-dunes
This series is here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/dudes-gotta-pay-his-debts/
The Thug gets up close to my face and I feel his spittle on my lips as he rasps at me. "You owe me money, and I owe another guy. I've sorted it - you pay my debt to him and we're clear. Deal?" I nod. He marches me out of his flat and I weakly protest - I'm barefoot and have left my flipflops inside by his front door. "I'll fuckin' post 'em to ya" he laughs harshly. I'm led barefoot down the stairs, out into the block's carpark to his work van and shoved in the back. Soon we're driving.
We drive for nearly an hour - it takes at least 45 minutes to drive anywhere in London. The back of the van has no windows, its stuffy and hot and I'm soon dripping with sweat. Then we stop and he opens the back of the van and motions me to get out. We're at an industrial estate with no-one else around. "Unit 16" he says. "Press the buzzer, when you're buzzed in strip down, put your shit in the locker and put on the blindfold. Then just go with it." He climbs back in the van. "Enjoy mate" he laughs as he drives off.
I walk barefoot across the warm bitumen until I find Unit 16. Drawing a deep breath, I press the button and the door to the unit opens with a high-pitched buzz. I click it shut behind me and then immediately try to open it to see what happens - it is locked tight with no obvious way to unlock it. Too fuckin' late to back out now. I'm in a small room, illuminated by a solitary red bulb, with another door in the wall facing me. "What the fuck", I mutter to myself, then I peel off my sweat-damp vest, drop my boardies and stow my kit in the banged-up locker. There is indeed a leather blindfold in there, and I put it on and secure it in place. I'm fuckin' commited now.
As I wait naked in the dark, over-warm, stuffy chamber, the nerves start to build, but the blood flow to my cock slowly increases and before long it is a steel-hard bolt once more. I touch my piss slit and squeeze a drop of pre out, putting it to my tongue. I can feel the slick wetness between my asscheeks, a mix of sweat and the last of the Thug's spit and cum oozing from my hole. After the Thug fucked me hard, hot and raw without letting me cum, I don't know how long I can last if someone else is going to have a go on me. A couple of strokes and I reckon I might blow.
I hear the other door open and sense a presence in the room. I hear breathing close to my ear and the person moves around me. I smell man musk and sweat - fresh, not stale - then a firm grip on my neck pushes me through the door.
The concrete floor is wet beneath my bare feet and I feel heat on my skin - I guess there are space heaters in here, not that they're needed in this weather - and I break out in a sweat immediately. I feel leather cuffs buckled to my wrists, linked by a chain, then my arms are hauled up and the chain is hooked to something above my head, exposing my dripping pits and forcing me to stay fully upright. My ankles are cuffed and a spreader is put between them. He carefully manipulates my cock and balls into a silicone cockring and ball stretcher - the stretcher is new to me, it isn't an extreme one but the tightness is interesting. The feeling of exposure is scary but hot, and I struggle not to shoot at the feeling of his rough hands moving my hard dick and tight nuts around into position. I know I need to give in to what is happening and just hope I'm not in some kind of sick torture or snuff setup.
He's behind me, kissing my neck then forcefully tonguing my ear while he reaches around to pinch and twist my nipples. I squirm and groan. Then he's in front, gripping my beard and forcing my mouth open to receive his thick tongue and a long, slow, wet kiss. My cock is drooling as he moves to my pits and starts to lick them with broad strokes, moving his way down my torso. Then his mouth engulfs my cock and I get 3 deep-throated sucks before he pulls off me. I groan and buck my hips and beg to be allowed to cum, but I know it is way too soon for this dude.
I feel his fingers in my pits and he starts to tickle. Holy fucking God, not that - soon I'm twisting and laughing, trying to escape, but his fingers are in my pits and all down my ribs, digging mercilessly. After a while he pauses and treats me to light taps from a what feels like a leather riding crop on my torso, ass, legs, cock and balls, just enough to startle me and make me jerk and jump, not really hurt me. I sense he isn't interested in pain - he has something else in mind. He follows up with 20 minutes of light swatting across my whole torso and legs with a cat-of-nine-tails before the tickling resumes.
By this time my whole body is slick and dripping, my body hair is matted, and residual fuck fluids are farting out of my well-used anus as I twist and jerk on the chain. He must have noticed - he crouches behind me, grips my hard fuzzy glutes and spreads me wide before sliding a thick finger up my tunnel - it slips in way too easily and makes my rod twitch and leak. He slides his thick digit out and I hear a sound that suggests he has sucked his finger, presumably to test the nature of the juices in my hairy mancunt. I hear a muffled grunt of... what? Pleasure? Approval? He removes the ankle spreader and unhooks my arms, leading me across the wet puddled concrete floor to another part of the room.
I bump up against a vinyl-covered platform like the ones used in gyms, about waist-high, and he helps me to mount it. On my knees, he pulls me back until my bare feet hang over the edge behind me and he buckles straps tightly over my calves and ankles. I feel him jump up onto the platform - he grabs the chain connecting my wrists and hauls it up, connecting it to another ceiling hook so they are stretched above my head and my ass is pulled up off my heels. A thick, soft but firm leather bolster is wedged in behind my knees and chained firmly in place - it actually makes the whole position relatively comfortable as my thighs rest on it, but it has the effect, due to the angle at which my arms are suspended, of making my ass stick out and my glutes naturally spread wide, exposing my wet oozing fuckhole to the warm, moist air. My thighs are then strapped firmly in position so I can't raise myself off the bolster.
I hear him drag a stool up behind me and settle himself. He roughly cleans the soles of my feet with a wet rag, making me twitch and squirm. There is a long, maddening pause, then I feel his broad, firm, wet tongue lap over my open cunt. I shudder and moan but I have virtually no way to move. He slides his wet tongue up through my open ring and into my chute, then locks his lips on my puffy pucker and sucks a bit while his tongue moves in and out. There won't be much juice left up there anymore, but he probes around for what he can find. He grips my ass and spreads the cheeks even wider before grinding his chin bristles over my tender hole and slippery taint - "Fuck yeah!!!" escapes my mouth before I can stop it, and the Boss chuckles darkly. A few more licks then he gets up. A minute later, cool water splashes over my back, feet and ass before the flow zeroes in on my hole and a hose is worked up my chute. My guts fill, he withdraws the hose - in this positiion I can't clench to keep it in, so I force out a powerful stream of dirty water. 6 more times he douches my fucktunnel. Then another pause, and he resumes his seat and starts to rim me in earnest, tongue-fucking my ring and grinding what feels like a good few days of thick, rough stubble into my crack and taint, occasionally pulling back to spit on my hole and lube up the area for his mouth.
He is totally into ass-eating it seems as he continues for ages, making my ringed and strapped tool drool cock-snot onto the platform. I feel his hands rest on my wet but clean bare feet and I twitch. Slowly he starts to stroke my toes, my soles and arches with his short nails and I squirm. Soon he is delivering a steady, unbroken tickling on my wet feet while the rimming never lets up and I am laughing and moaning and squirming and, before long, begging him to stop. It is impossible for me to know how long he eats and tickles for, but it felt like at least 20-30 minutes and I was soon exhausted, suspended in position, cock leaking like mad.
Suddenly it stops. I hear activity behind me as he moves around and drags something heavy into position over the concrete floor. Something thin - a syringe? - slips into my hole and I sense cold lube being injected deep up inside my chute. After it withdraws, I clench my abs and bear down like I'm shitting - the lube oozes down from my bowel through my tunnel before starting to drip from my pulsing asshole. I feel the unmistakable sensation of a lubricated rubber dildo positioned against my open slippery ring and maneuvered until the head pops in - it penetrates all too easily now, with no discomfort, only a spasm of anal pleasure. A second later a mechanical whirring begins and the dildo, mounted on a fuck machine rod, begins to piston in and out of my cunt in a smooth, steady rhythm, sliding remorselessly over my swollen prostate with each stroke. As the machine fucks me he returns his attention to tickling my feet for a few minutes before starting to lick and suck them enthusiastically, moving regularly from one to the other.
I can't lie, I am in heaven. With his fingers replaced by his tongue, the foot worship feels awesome, as does the relentless mechanical fucking. Then the foot play stops and my groans are cut off as he climbs back on the platform and snogs me while stroking my desperate cock with a well-lubed fist. Thank fuck I think, as I build towards an explosive orgasm. But he yanks his hand away and I realise what the next part of this game is. I cry out and beg to be allowed to cum, but a ball gag is strapped into my mouth before he proceeds to dig his fingers into my pits and ribs, delicately stroke my pecs and abdomen, apply feather-light touches to the underside of my cock and to its oozing glans. An occasional firm stroke or two to get me close, and then the torture continues. At times he leaves me alone, suspended, as the fuck machine solidly plugs away. Maybe he is having a fag, or texting, or taking photos with his phone, who knows? Then my feet get more attention for a while.
The session enters its final phase as a lubricated tube is snugly fitted onto my cock. A masturbation sleeve maybe? But I hear another motor power up and I realise it is something I've read about but never seen, not even in porn - a milking machine. Holy fuck, it takes about 5 seconds for my cock to respond to the rhythmic sucking action and my whole body spasms with a powerful orgasm, making me scream around the ball gag. Did my cum shoot across the platform? Was it sucked up some tube into a container for later use? Who the fuck knows, I still couldn't see a damn thing.
Then horror dawned as I realised the milking machine wasn't stopping, not even slowing. The edging was over, now came the milking. I began to wish I hadn't read so many BSDM stories on Nifty as I realised what was happening. The Boss resumed his tickling, the fuck machine continued its remorseless shafting, the milking machine sucked my painfully sensitive shaft and head, and I started trying to beg him to stop, but all that came out around the ball gag was inarticulate gibbering and a steady drool of thick spit. Remarkably, my second orgasm followed quickly on the heels of the first, aided by a slight shift in my position which unexpecteldy increased the dildo's contact with my prostate, plus the Boss swapping fingers for mouth on my left foot. Racked with pleasure I went limp as the milker drained me, and still it didn't stop. Delerium washed over me as I wept from the tickling and sucking and roused only when - after God-knows how long - a fresh nearly-painful cumming washed through me, forcing a gutteral grunt from my throat.
I think I came another two times, each accompanied by a whimper, but I can't be sure. I was revived by the removal of the ball gag followed by repeated jets of the Boss' hot sweet cum on my face, head and beard, into my drooling mouth and down my chest. A few seconds later and streams of hot fragrant piss sprayed over my face and body. I realised the milking machine, though still on my softening cock, was turned off, and the fuck machine has slowed its shafting to a slow, almost teasing stroke. The Boss crouched down and placed the flat of his hand on my hard, wet, hairy abs and pressed firmly while I felt his mouth gently engulf my limp, exhausted cock - combined with the action of the fuck machine, it immediately made my bladder release and flood his hot wet mouth with piss. I could hear the Boss greedily drink some before spraying a mouthfull of my own piss into my face, allowing the rest of my flow to pool around my legs.
I felt the Boss clamber off the platform. A couple of minutes later, the fuck machine stopped and was withdrawn, and my ass was filled with an aching emptiness. The bolster was removed from behind my knees, the milker, cockring and ball-stretcher from my raw genitals, and my arms unhooked - I flopped bonelessly face down in a puddle of fluids on the platform as the Boss unstrapped my calves and ankles. With some care, he hauled me off the cube and gently deposited me on my back on the wet concrete, then he proceeded to hose me down. He directed a steady flow at my feet and legs, moving up to squirt my tender genitals and pubes, up my belly, chest and face. In response to his barked command I exposed my pits to the flow, then he ordered me to roll over - he hosed dowen my back and legs, then ordered me to spread my arse so he could rinse my trench. Once I was drenched but cool, again I was hauled up, an arm over his broad muscular, bare shoulder, and assisted back the way I came, dripping and aching. As I collapsed on the floor, he whispered in my ear - "rest boy" - before the door clicked shut behind me.
I did just that, recovering my strength and stretching my cramped muscles for at least 15 minutes, before removing the blindfold. Bathed in red light, I found a rough, worn but clean towel in the locker and dried myself off before getting dressed and opening the now unlocked door to the outside. Blinking in the light, I padded barefoot out into the sun. I checked that my phone and wallet were in my butt pocket and sighed with relief as I realised they were. I called an Uber.
I was so turned on by the whole ordeal it became my wank fuel 3-4 times a day. Even better, I got a text from the Thug confirming my debt was paid in full. My email inbox began to receive photos of me being used in the playroom - and then links to a full vid posted on PornHub and xHamster - I had no way of knowing but there was another dude in the room at all times, filming the action. The Boss was in full view, he was a burly, muscular daddy type, heavily inked and wearing a half leather hood that left his stubbled jaw exposed. Starting in a chest harness, leather jock and boots, he'd lost the jock partway through the session, exposing a large, heavy-looking schlong I would have paid to have up my ass. The room was lit by a red light and I was relieved to say that, though my body was shown off to great effect, my face was largely obscured - you could tell I was shaven-headed and bearded but that was about it. Maybe if someone recognised my scattering of small random tatts, a lightbulb might go off, but it seemed unlikely. So the vid found its way into my wank bank.
Most interestingly, an email from the Boss arrived later, asking if I was up for more on-camera sub work. He'd set up the last session in a rush, having received the Thug's call only an hour before I rocked up, so he could only wrangle one camera man and had to post it as an amateur shoot. He produces better quality porn as a sideline and wants to use me as a regular sub - he said I looked fucking hot and was a natural sub. £500 for a day's filming, maybe more depending on how far I'm willing to go and what I'm willing to do or have done to me. He can promise all kinds of regular work if I agree to show my face - including more mainstream gay, bi and straight stuff - but I'll need to bring in ID and sign a model release for each scene. If I really need to stay masked he could still use me every month or two for hardcore BDSM or kink shoots where I could be fitted with a hood. It would be underground stuff, there'd be no ID or paperwork needed but the job would be cash-in-hand (so no tax). He runs his shoots with a small crew: He doesn't usually perform on camera like he did with me, so as well as him directing the action there would be another semi-pro dom, two camera men, two technicians and a runner at the shoot to help with equipment, lighting, ropes and anything else that needed doing.
Intrigued, I tell him I'll get back to him. I mull it over endlessly until I decide that I'd really like to try it, more as a remunerative hobby, as long as it kept being fun and my identity was hidden, and as long as I needed the money. The next day I called the Boss back and told him I was up for it, hooded for now. I could hear the broad grin in his voice as we started to talk limits.
Hey guys, thanks for enjoying this three part tale. If you'd like to hear how I get on with some of the porn shoots with the Boss, let me know! Please remember, the awesome wank bank that is Nifty needs your donations to keep up and running and keep publishing our hot stories. Send something if you can: https://donate.nifty.org/.