Author: Richard Saw
Categories: Adult Friends, Athletics
I've been a long-time reader of Nifty, adoring fan of so many writers. This story: The Tale of an Aussie Rugby Bottom was a book that I published via Amazon. I no longer sell it, but I decided that people here might like to read it, and the sequel that I never published.
Characters in these stories do feature in my Holmes & Watson mystery novels (available on Amazon, search Richard Saw), so if you like a little mystery novel (with lots of sex and humour), please do look them up. But I promise that all of the good stuff will be in these stories.
And yes, do send me fan mail.
And more importantly, please remember to donations to Nifty (using link https://donate.nifty.org/). Your erections are in their hands!
In this Chapter our hero goes down a sexual rabbit hole... but ends up meeting two interesting men.
The Tale of An Aussie Rugby Bottom, who also liked to Top - Chapter 11
I probably look back on my descent into sexually dangerous behaviour -- yes others may say I was already there, but this is my story -- and see it as a result of a number of things. Firstly, the fact that I wasn't out to my family back home. I'd been avoiding any emotional discussions with them for the longest time, done my best to ignore anyone over in London who knew my siblings and finding every excuse not to go home to Australia for even the briefest of holidays. What was additionally strange was that not discussing an issue was very unlike my family. They weren't the emotionally-distant-middle-class family that was a staple in England nor were they the macho, beer-swilling sporting family that people expect from Australians. The thought of their youngest son running across the world to escape them would (and did) horrify my parents into thinking they had failed me somehow. Even my older brother and sister -- as domineering and practical as they both were -- had made attempts to ask me `how I was doing'. And both of them definitely knew that something must be up as they never even mentioned my ex in any conversation who by all reports, they were still close to. But I didn't want to talk to anyone who knew my past. I wanted to sort everything out by myself without their help.
And if that involved me exploring' things, well I was determined that my past would not stop me. The little bear who I had met at Rob's party was called Stuart, I would find out. He liked to be called Master' some of the time but when I caught him off-guard, he explained what his name was and that he mostly answered to Stu.
His day job was as a store manager of one of the more out-there' gay sex stores. You know, the sort of place that sells fetish gear. I would say all of them did, but you know what I'm talking about. Strangely Stu wasn't into most of that. And by that' I guess I mean the rubber and the leather that filled the bulk of the store's floor-space. But anything else, well he'd probably never said no to. It was obvious that he had something in mind for me when he said that I should pop by the store on a specific afternoon.
I called in sick from work, any thrill I might have had of managing chain restaurants was wearing thin by now. If it wasn't the staff with their attitude, it was the corporate head offices with the lack of interest. I knew there had to be other opportunities out there but the agencies I was dealing with all kept saying that I needed to work for a good period before I would be able to apply for better jobs and even then these jobs didn't seem to exist on their books. I wasn't sure how to change things up and it's hard to break from your daily regime.
There's a certain smell that always seems to hang around sex stores, I think it's rubber and lube or something like that, I dunno. But for me now it certainly reminds me of naughty sex... and in a good way. The store was quiet when I walked in, there was a big, tattooed, bearded man behind the till unpacking stock so I wandered around for a few moments, staring in awe at the huge dildos, the leather aprons and masks and the slings that were set up as displays -- I hoped -- and not for demonstration.
"You came," A voice said behind me and I turned, feeling surprisingly caught out. Stu was about 5ft 6, maybe not much bigger than Rocco had been. I had lumped him in with the other bears as a bit of a fatty but on second look I could see that this wasn't the case. He had been wearing baggy clothes at the time of Rob's party and now, in tight jeans, `master' boots and a polo shirt, he was quite slim. My second thought of course was linking his face to his cock, a nice 7 incher or so that sat in your hand like a thick, European sausage.
It wasn't huge, it was just... just the sort of cock that you wanted in your mouth. Now. I nodded my head and didn't really say a great deal. He came up close and patted me on my shoulders. "The party was fun and all that but mate if you want to get some real action, you can't just sit around and wait for someone to organise it."
"I guess not," I was forced to agree. I guess he was thinking about group sessions. I didn't know... it had been great fun and I definitely wanted more but I had no idea what I should do next. I might have felt shame-faced after the activity, but it had only taken a couple of days before that had worn off and I had started to think about how much I had revelled in it all. There were always a couple of invites floating around the gay encounter apps for group sessions, but I just didn't really want to get involved with people I didn't know. Of course you could say that I didn't know Rob or Stu very well either, but life is always a complicated balancing act.
"I'm going to take you to a session in a private club and introduce you around," Stu explained. "If you do a good job you'll get plenty of invites. There are plenty of bottoms around, but you look like you have the body to be a real good one and you showed us that you can absorb quite a lot of punishment with the fellas at Rob's place."
I felt a tremor of fear through me and the thought, `Is this what I really want?' crossed my mind. But Stu continued on as if nothing was the matter.
"But you need an outfit for this sort of party. Come on, let's see if we can find one for a lad as big as you," and he walked me over to the section which held leather harnesses. "Take that off," he smiled at my shirt. "No one is going to see... Well we don't care if no one is going to see is actually what I meant to say," he laughed.
I shrugged my shirt off and let him strap me into an x-shaped studded leather harness. It caught on a few of my chest hairs but apart from that, when Stu did the last buckle up, the leather tightening around me made me feel bigger and more powerful than ever before. I tried to flex my biceps however and it felt uncomfortable. I must have grimaced a little and Stu laughed. "These harnesses are for a bottom boy. There won't be any of that posturing once you're strapped into this."
"I don't get it..." I mumbled. "How do they work exactly?"
"Take your pants off," Stu said, as if it was the most normal thing to say. Because it was a sex store I presumed that different rules applied. That wasn't entirely true, but I pushed my trainers and socks off then dropped my jeans and underwear in one quick go.
"Turn around," Stu ordered. "Hands up against the wall."
I did this automatically and he grabbed the leather straps and pulled me back to him. "You get the idea?" he said.
"Oh yeah," I breathed, feeling that cock press against me through his pants. "Fuck I get the idea. Can I, can I... suck you off ... Master?" I then asked.
"On the floor," he ordered, and I dropped onto my knees as he lent against the wall and undid his pants before pulling out that delicious cock.
The thought of sucking a guy off in public was quite a turn on. Well it was semi-public. I had done riskier things with Rocco, but then I had been the top back then and there had always been a reasonable effort undertaken to make it private. Here I was in a shop doing it. Ok it was a sex shop but one thing at a time.
The pleasure and the delicious taste of that cock was even more than I could have imagined. Even today I remember it as one of the nicest tasting cocks I've ever had. Salty is the only flavour I can truly recall about it, there was maybe a musk... a manly musk about it. It definitely didn't taste sweaty or dirty... I dunno. Stu kept his hand on my head, stroking it as I sucked, murmuring some dirty talk to me. But there was something missing. I squirmed a little and he released me.
"What's up?"
"Can... can..." I didn't know how to say it, so I pointed in the direction of the till.
Stu knew immediately what I had in mind. "Balazs!" he called out.
"Yeah boss..." the big, tattooed man said as he came around the corner. As soon as he saw me, his reaction changed and he added in a thick Hungarian accent, "Fuck that's hot."
Stu looked down at me and lifted an eyebrow as if to say, `You got your wish. Now do your job.'
I went back to work, furiously sucking Stu and wanking myself off at the same time. Balazs stood back, arm resting on a rack of leather masks and just played with his hump. His soft accent could be heard whispering me encouragement, "Yeah suck dat cock."
Very soon after that point, Stu pushed me back, took control of his cock for a few seconds and spurted all over my chest. I scooped up some of his cum and used it as basic lube -- which was enough to have me cumming moments later. Stu wiped his forehand of a brief shine of sweat and Balazs gave a brief dip of his head as a signal that we'd done well, and he headed back to the counter.
"I guess I have to buy it now," I laughed, looking at the cum and sweat stains on the harness.
"Don't worry," Stu smiled, "I'll give you the friends and family discount."
I got dressed, rejoicing in smearing the cum over my chest -- God I'd got into some dirty behaviour -- and met up with Stu again at the counter. I paid for the harness, got a more than friendly pat on the arse by Balazs and left as Stu said to me, "I'll send you a text about the party. Be there."
Stu messaged me the following week, advising me to get dressed in basic clothes but with no underwear and wearing the leather harness underneath the t-shirt. I met him outside the flat, shivering slightly in the cool breeze. He pulled up in a small car and gestured for to get in. He drove off quietly, moving quickly down a maze of roads somewhere in North London. We arrived at what must have been -- at some stage in its life -- a warehouse but before I got to see anything else, Stu lifted my shirt off from behind me and blindfolded me with it.
"You'll want to be like this," he explained. "It will heighten the experience."
I nodded my agreement and Stu took a firm hold of my hand and led me carefully across the uneven floor. There was the sound of a door being open, some simple chatter and then a low, base soundtrack that sucked every other noise out of the surroundings.
My hands were pulled in front of me and tied with something tight yet soft. I was directed forward and then I felt someone undo the top of my jeans. Before they were removed completely however I felt myself being pushed backwards. I gasped involuntarily but before I had the chance to protect myself from the fall, I found myself connecting with a hammock of sorts. On reflection it was probably a sling. My hands were unbound briefly before they were stretched out either side of me. There were clicks and rattles and once the hands that had been holding them departed, I tried to pull free, if only to try and test things. I was securely held in place.
My legs were dangling over the edge of the hamm... I mean sling. I felt more hands undo my shoes and remove them from my feet. Then my socks and then very quickly my jeans. I couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement run through me as I lay there naked and manacled. The darkness was somewhat enveloping, divorcing me from my body. It seemed to be an indeterminable time before anyone came back to me. Of course I worried that I would be left, and no one would come back for me. But trust is always part of the exercise and there was something about this whole experience that made me trust Stu. Anyway I didn't have anything more than my Oyster card on me so it wasn't as if someone could rob me. Now I write this I tremble at the risks I took.
Suddenly I heard voices. They were low and guttural as if they didn't want me to know who they were and perhaps they didn't want each other to know who they belonged to. Then the touching began, hands raking across my body, pinching my nipples, exploring everything about me. I imagine people think that being blind-folded leads to your other senses being heightened. I can clearly confirm that's rubbish. The best you can do is start to appreciate those other senses when one of the big ones is taken out of commission.
Then the attention turned to my arsehole which was exposed at just the right height -- I imagine. As it was the intention for me to be here for a long time, the first intrusions were deliberately sensitive. I was cold and nervous, and I was tight... so the fingers were well lubbed and moved in a cautious manner. First, one finger started to work around the outside, warming it. At the same time hands were stroking my legs carefully, massaging them thoroughly. The calming action was quickly effective and soon that one finger became two and it started to push through the first sphincter.
I let my head fall back a little, resting over the edge of the sling. I opened my mouth to moan and instantly found a cock being pushed into the vacant space. A pair of hands cupped my head and turned me to face the cock which continued to invade my mouth. I gagged and panicked a little and sensibly the cock withdrew itself. But of course that was not the last. After I had got my breath back I was re-filled. This time, prepared for it, I breathed through my nose and welcomed it as best I could.
Meanwhile more fingers had been added, it now felt as if there were at least four, stretching me out wide and then starting to search for my prostrate. And... suddenly it was found. First by one finger, than by another. Then it seemed like the whole hand had found it. My whole body relaxed and then it seemed as if an explosion, deep down near my stomach, began. I would have moaned and roared had my mouth not been filled with cock at the time.
Usually at this point the fingers would have left and been replaced by a cock. But with little risk of me actually coming, they continued their assault. I had never known it was possible to feel so much. Time and again those fingers razed across my prostrate. I could sense my cock was rock-hard with an erection and begging to cum. But without all the added stimuli I was unable to cum, and I was left writhing in pleasurable agony. My head was turned in a different direction now to take another cock, this one sticky and sweaty and much bigger. But the assault on my anus had ensured the majority of my attention was elsewhere.
It seemed like an age before the fist finally removed itself from my arse and immediately replaced by a cock. I would have thought by now that nothing could hurt me at this point, but I was wrong, very wrong. Obviously the first cock was very impatient because it dove straight into me. It was long, thick and there was no difference in its width. It was a huge sausage that just kept driving into me. I barely had enough time to adjust to it and restrain myself from biting off the head of whatever cock I was sucking at the time.
But by the time it drove in the second time, the experience had transferred from pain to pleasure. Every time that dick tunnelled in, every part of my body tingled. And then it started to fuck me fast. Now it was like I was drowning, I didn't have enough time to recover from the last wave of pleasure before the next one was crashing over me. I clawed at the chains holding my arms in place, for no other reason that they were the only things I could reach. But if I tried to move anything else, firm hands would keep me in place.
Suddenly the dick was gone -- as quickly as it had come -- and another one, this one curved, pushed in. This one was like it was a bloodhound, sniffing around for a scent. It seemed to change direction each time it came in. Then it would withdraw completely, and I would feel lost. Only for it to drive back in again, all the way. Then there was another cock and another. I started to lose count. No one had come yet, or at least I couldn't feel it. I thought by now I would have gone down, my cock would have lost the energy, but it seemed to be straining for release, I could still feel it.
I wondered briefly if I had developed phantom-cock syndrome -- the idea that my mind still thought I was erect even if I wasn't. But no, I was still desperately erect, I could feel the weight as I moved. This hadn't gone unnoticed either by my many assailants. There was noise around me, and I was pushing and straining at my ropes, more in fascination than anything else. What was going to happen next?
Suddenly I felt it, a huge weight coming down on me... and my cock, my cock was being uncased in a warm... oh fuck yeah, someone was sitting on me, milking my hard cock. You know, you would think that being fucked while you're sensory-deprived would be hot. But I tell you guys, having your cock milked by some hot arse while you're under is probably even better. They would slide onto me, tight buns of steel that vacuum-packed my cock. Up and down they went, and my tingling body had no control. I tried to push up to get more but my bounds held me tight. And just when I swore I was ready to come... the milking would stop, and the hot arse would disappear.
Sometimes it would be replaced by another one but often there would be nothing ... then just as I felt despair another cock would slide into my aching sore arse. Bam, bam ... I could feel that pounding breaking me. Yep I think I even started to sob. I just wanted it all to stop. I wanted relief. I wanted one more hot arse to come down on my desperate, aching cock and to stay there. I think I started to beg. "Please, please let me cum!"
But it wouldn't stop. It seemed to go on for ever. It kept going until the stage where I really did lose all feeling. I had gone so far I had come out the other end. I was exhausted, it felt like I had run a marathon. But the blood would not leave my cock. It felt huge and thick... desperate, begging until finally I came.
I don't think I even screamed. I was too tired and too shattered. Then I felt wet droplets fall on me. I squirmed and shook, I was getting wet and I ... Oh, yeah the other guys were cumming on me. How they had delayed their own gratification for so long... well I actually don't know how many people had been there. But slowly the noise abated, and I suddenly felt like I was floating, drifting away.
Finally the shackles were removed, and my hands fell back towards my body, exhausted and blood drained. A rough fabric came across my body and around to my sore arse, cleaning most of the crap off me. And then the blindfold was removed. Even though the room was dark, I still needed to cover my eyes for a bit while I became accustomed to the light.
The blindfold might have hidden me from many things that night, but it also disguised me from seeing two men who were going to change my life. Neither of them interacted with me that night, both staying in the dark, watching. But as Stu finally removed the blindfold from me and helped me out of the sling, one of the men came over.
Stu was probably about to help me out of the club and get me home -- despite what had happened over the last couple of hours, he had obviously no intention of any real harm coming to me. I had wanted to experience being a sexual toy and that was what he have given me. But Curtis saw things differently and he had decided enough was enough. I didn't know his name at the time, I had never seen him before, but I would soon learn everything about him. Like many of the others, he had been wearing a mask -- one of those basic black ones, yet there was no flippancy about him. His long, blonde hair was sensibly tied back behind the mask and all he was wearing were black leather trousers, black master boots and studded leather wrist bands. Of course my memory of the events or that night might not be 100% clear so I'm not certain whether Curtis just grunted at Stu to send him on his way of if there were more words exchanged. Whatever the case, Stu walked away, and I didn't see him for months, but he had entrusted my care into the big, strong hands of Curtis. The man who would -- for the next 12 months -- physically and for several years, mentally become my Daddy.
Many guys lust after the thought of a Daddy. Some big, muscled, hairy, rich guy who's going to look after them financially in between violent bouts of erotic sex. And of course rarely do you ever get what you want in life. Inter-generational relationships probably work better in the straight world because inequality is already expected. It can be a little tougher in the gay world where the norm expected is a balanced relationship. More realistic is for you to have a sporadic relationship with an older man where the exchange of sex for comfort or advice is somewhat accepted as an equal exchange. And I was lucky enough to have one of these. Ok, he wasn't hairy or that muscular and he was already in a relationship. But he got me off the bad track I was heading down, re-born my sexual desires, and got me the encounter that would result in me getting the job that would define my career. You can't wish for much more from a Daddy.
Oh the other guy? Yeah well I didn't meet him that night like I said, and I didn't even know he was at the club -- that would be something he would only admit many years later. But that was the first time that Stephen Holmes saw me.