The Masters Club

Hi everyone. This is my first story posted here on this great site (and I hope you donate here to help support it).

But I have written 100's of erotic porn stories. Most are too intense and too graphic to be approved for inclusion here. So they are posted on https://www.gayties.com/. (You have to join, but membership is free.) This story can only be found on Nifty. I plan to write 8 chapters, but I'm still working on the storyline, so I am not sure. This story is copyrighted by GayTies.com.

The Masters Club

Chapter 1 of 8

Buttoms Up was not dark but dimly light. And, best of all, not loud, especially at this early hour of 6 PM. It is one of the few gay bars that hosted an after-work crowd of mostly businessmen. Most men here were men, not silly boys. They wore suits with ties and leather street shoes. Just what I always look for.

I entered and walked over to the snack table. Nice. As usual, I noticed several men eyeing me over. I ignored them, but I was dressed as man-bait. I ordered a cocktail and sat by myself at a table with 2 chairs to alluringly sip my drink and slowly enjoy my small plate of crackers and cheeses.

I went to a bar only once a month or less because I did not want to be seen as a regular. I prefer to come across as a new, out-of-place, mysterious twink. A lad who may seem lost or lonely. I had not been to this particular bar before, the Bottom's Up.

I avoided making eye contact for the first 10 or 15 minutes as I sat there watching the colossal TV wall-mounted monitor displaying disco sounds and images, but not loudly as most bars do.

So, what was I wearing? Not a business suit, but what a business-suited man would likely be attracted to. I wore a pink short-sleeved shirt open to the waist with a black T-shirt underneath. And turquoise cotton shorts, not too tight. I wanted to look sexy and inviting but not like a cheap, sleazily hustler. I wore Flip-Flops on my bare feet. I like these because when I sit on a high bar stool with my feet dangling, I will let the flip-flops slip off my feet to be barefoot. Gay guys, like these old gay farts, love my naked, sexy toes. Nonchalantly, I'd continuously wiggle my toes. It was part of my mating call. I stared frustratingly at my cell phone and pushed buttons as if trying to get it to work.

"Hey, son, how are you doing this evening?" BINGO! A handsome man said after approaching me. I didn't mind the 'son' term. "My name is Jenson."

"Oh," I said as I looked up with pretend shock. "Hi, I'm Rhett. Would you like to have a seat?"

He sat and placed his drink next to mine. OK, here's the deal. I'm going to hustle some well-intended GAY man here tonight, hopefully. But I don't want to waste my time on a dude who is not going to respond sexually to me. I aim to figure him out sooner rather than later, and if he is not interested, I'll move on to the next handsome target in a suit.

He smiled, "You know, you're not supposed to be barefoot in here. Bars are classified as restaurants." Then added," But I don't mind, you have sexy toes." He chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. But I stumbled, getting out of my car and tripping on the curb. I messed up my ankle." I told him as I lifted my right foot, placed it across my left thigh, and started rubbing it.

"Here, I'm a doctor. Let me see it." Right, he's a doctor. Whether he was or was not played into my hands.

I lifted my bare foot and set it on his suited lap, but not just the one foot, both of them. He didn't question it. 'Dr. Jenson' looked at it carefully and rubbed it lightly.

"Boy, it feels good to stretch out my legs." I oohed as he rubbed the one bare foot first and then the other. I moved my heels slightly over his crotch as if I were adjusting my position and stretching out my tight leg muscles. I could feel his developing boner as he massaged my feet. BINGO again!

We started to chat about small stuff, but he never stopped rubbing my bare feet. "So, Rhett, what brings you to Bottom's UP tonight? The fundraiser?"

"No, just boredom, I guess. Just wanted to get out of my apartment and be in the company of some nice men for a change." I emphasized the word 'nice.' I walked in here and didn't notice any sign about a fundraiser. This must be some new gimmick for the bar to liven things up. Only two dozen guys were in here so far, and no one was dancing. How strange. It must be awkward to get a new thing started.

"Oh? Why do you say that? Someone not treating you right?"

"Sorry, Doc, I didn't mean to bring that up, but not every man is nice, kind, and considerate." He was being parental and attentive. Bingo! Then I noticed he was wearing a nice expensive watch, a Rolex, with lots of jewels. Bingo! Oh my! OK, no more 'Bingos,' but everything was falling into place. This guy was now mine.

"So, you and your boyfriend had a fight?"

No, I'm not gay. I'm straight. I just wanted to be with gay men because they are always so kind and caring."

"I never thought about it that way. But yeah, I guess gay men are more sensitive. At least, that's the scoop. I guess it's true. So.... You never did anything sexual with men?"

"Well, I was experimental a bit. But, no doubt, I am straight. Sorry."

"No need to apologize. Straight is fine, too."

"I can tell a lad like you needs to be appreciated and treated right. Gay or straight, no matter." He paused, then added, "Say, can I get you another drink?"

"Sure, a Tom Collins." He signaled Ted, the bartender, to come over. The place was not busy at this early hour, so he hopped over and took our order. When he returned, the Doc took out his wallet and thumbed through an appreciable stack of hundred-dollar bills to find a fifty. Wow! Did I luck out, or what? "Keep the change."

Here's the thing. YES, I AM STRAIGHT! I come to gay bars to meet gay men who think they can turn me gay. That's what I want. But not just to meet any gay men, WEALTHY GAY MEN. I come across as wounded and sure. I gained their trust and slowly weasel my way into their life, at least in the short term. Then... I take them for all they have: money, jewelry, whatever. I'm in it for the loot. And if I have to suck a bit of dick along the way, fine. It's usually worth the "prize money.

I took a large gulp of my drink and found it strong. It must have been pure alcohol. I guess the bartender was being very generous to me. Bar owners like cute, sexy guys like me coming in frequently. I'm used to being treated 'special.'

Then, Doc asked the bartender, "By the way, Ted, I'm here because I saw the ad for a fundraiser. Just how does that work?"

"Oh, it's new. We haven't even got signs up yet, just the notices in the gay papers." Did I just see the bartender wink at the Doc? Or was there something in his eye? "But it's simple. Starting at 7 PM, in about 15 minutes, I draw a name out of the jar, and that person is the lucky one who gets to be the helper in raising money to build the new gay center. He becomes the star of the night."

"Well, that sounds exciting," Doc said. "But, how do you raise money?"

"If a patron wants the special helper to do something, such as sing, dance, or tell jokes, he will pay the fund, $5 if the helper does it. Every time the helper completes a request, $5 goes into the fund. It can go on for hours."

"Sounds like the fundraiser is a fun-raiser." They both laughed.

What Rhett didn't know is that there was no ad for a fundraiser and no fundraiser. That 'Doc Jenson,' who was actually a real estate agent, had this all set up ahead of time when he saw Rhett walk in. Jenson knew the obliging bartender well, and this was not the first time he asked for assistance to pull some sort of prank, not only for his amusement but for the amusement of all the bar patrons. Moreover, the bartender had "spiced up" Rhett's drink. The entire bar was about to have a blast. The other patrons were quietly told that a fun event was about to happen and just to cheer and go along with what others were doing.

Then Ted handed tiny pieces of paper to Jenson and Rhett. "Just write your names on these, and I'll add them to the jar for the drawing."

"I don't really want to do this," Rhett complained, slurring his words just a bit.

Hey, Rhett, it's all in good fun and for an important cause." Jenson encouraged him, and Rhett conceded, handing his paper back to the bartender.

Jenson and Rhett continued their small talk, and at one point, Jenson took the drink away from Rhett, not wanting to get too plastered. If he was drunk, he'd miss all the fun. No, Jenson preferred his victims to be only slightly tipsy. The bar attendance slowly increased as 7 PM approached. All the regulars knew that the first Friday of every month was some sort of public prank. Noting specific was announced beforehand, but everyone knew it was "crazy night." There must have been four dozen men there now.

The music was turned down, then, "OK, folk. My name is Ted, and I will be the MC for tonight. It's time for the fundraiser to begin. I have everyone's name in here," he said, holding up a large wide-mouth jar. "Now, if one of you kind gentlemen would reach in and pick a name, we'll see who the lucky helper is." He held the jar to the fellow beside him, who picked out one piece of paper and handed it to the bartender. He unfolded it and called out, "Rhett," and then pretended to look around to see who the 'mysterious' Rhett was." Of course, all the papers were blank. Even the papers Jenson and Rhett wrote on were tossed away.

"Rhett, please step forward. You are the winner." There was no stage. Rhett just went over to the bartender standing in the middle of the bar room, surrounded by patrons at tables, everyone applauding and cheering. Bottom's Up was now crowded, and Ted and Rhett were standing in only a two-foot clear space, so everyone was very close. The guys nearest to Rhett could just reach out and touch him.

"As you know," Ted continued, "our little, cute, sexy helper here, Rhett," - the boy was flush with embarrassment -- "will be happy to comply with any of your wishes." Then Ted added, "Providing you pay up!" Everyone laughed. "So, who wants to see him dance or perhaps sing a song?"

"I want to kiss him. Can I get a kiss for my $5?" an older man asked, smiling.

Without asking Rhett, Ted shouted, "Of course." And then nudged Rhett a couple of feet over to the bidder, who immediately stood up, held the sides of the boy's head in his hands, and planted a big, long kiss on Rhett's mouth. Rhett wasn't allowed any time to react or express himself. He had a surprised look on his face. As a straight lad, Rhett found it weird but OK to go along with the game. After all, he wanted to impress Dr. Jenson. So, kissing a man was OK, as long as it did not go any further, sexually.

"That was great, Rhett. You are such a fine lad, and you just added this gentleman's $5 to the fund. Thank you so much. What a great sport!"

"I... I... I... didn't know..." The boy sputtered.

"Five dollars for a kiss!" another man yelled out.

"Sold!" Called out Ted. And again, Rhett was immediately nudged in the other direction to a short, chubby man.

Come close, baby. I was a tongue kiss." And the guy grabbed Rhett's head aggressively and tried to insert his tongue into the boy's mouth. Rhett was stunned and didn't respond.

"He's not opening his mouth."

"What do you expect, Sir? A French kiss is an additional $5 in the pot. Ain't that right, Rhett? But he still did not respond. The bidder produced a second five-dollar bill. "OK, Rhett, you must French him now." And the man did succeed in inserting his tongue handmade loudly. Everyone cheered.

"That was great, Rhett, Just great,"

"But, I don't want to... to... I mean, I was going to dance...."

"Five dollars for the Flip-Flops," a young blonde bidder."

Ted asked Rhett, "Do you want to donate your Flip-Flops for five dollars?" The boy shook his head no.

"That's a no, laddy. It's five for each one." The blonde held up ten bucks, and everyone applauded. Rhett just looked up at Ted with a blank stare.

"You have to give them to him," Ted prompted, "he did accept your offer, right?"

Rhett slipped them off in a daze and handed them to the blonde.

"Five for the pink shirt," a patron in the back, sitting at the bar, yelled out.

"I don't mind Rhett giving you his wonder shirt, but not for five dollars. Come on, man. This is a fundraiser!" Then Ted turned to Rhett, "What's your shirt worth?"

"What?"

"What did your shirt cost you?"

"Oh, $20. It was on sale at Walmart, and I was going to..."

Ted cut him off, "When new, his shirt was 20 bucks, but now that he wore it, it has a wonderful sexy smell... let's say 40 bucks."

"SOLD!" Came the immediate response.

"Wonderful, Rhett! Go ahead and take it off. It now belongs to the handsome man at the bar."

"But, I don't want to... I mean.. this is my sh..." As Rhett resisted and started to whine, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off."

"That's great, Rhett. You just made $40 for the new center building fund. You are so fabulous! Let's all give Rhett a big hand." Everyone applauded as Rhett was nudged between each of the tightly packed bar tables through the crowd of men, all patting him on the back... well... on his back, shoulders, and ass.

"OK, now, as Rhett returns to the center, who will bid $5 to see him dance?"

"How much for the Turquoise shorts?" a guy in a formal tux called out.

Ted wanted to tease the group. "How much do you think his shorts are worth?

"$50. I'll donate $50 to the fund for the shorts."

"Well, let's make this interesting. Ted looked out the crowd, maybe 80 guys now, "Who will bid more?

"$75!" from another.

"85!" from a third guy.

"$100!" Bid the tux.

"SOLD!" Ted yelled enthusiastically. Cheers and applause filled the room.

Ted told Rhett, loud enough for all to hear, "Boy, I sure hope you have clean underwear on!" Another roar of laughter from the crowd.

As the handsome man in the tuxedo came forward to claim his "purchase," Rhett was trying to remember what underwear he had on. Still, he was so stressed out he could not remember.

Without waiting for direction or permission, The tux man kneeled, then unbuttoned and unzipped the shorts and slowly wiggled them down Rhett's slender, sexy hips. It's not that they were tight. He just wanted to make a sexy show of getting his prize.

As they dropped to his bare feet, and the boy stepped out of them, Ted shouted, as loud as he could, "LOOK EVERYONE, A TINY POLKA DOT STRING BIKINI!" Cheers and laughter filled the bar. Rhett was so embarrassed. His head was spinning. It was from the weird stress, embarrassment, public humiliation, as well as the strong drinks he had. Yes, it consisted of a tiny triangle in the front and a slightly larger triangle in the back, attached at the bottom tips, with two tiny strings holding the two pieces together at the hips. So all he wore now was his tiny string polka dot bikini and a black T-shirt. His Fip-Flops were long gone.

$200 for the T-shirt!" A guy in a construction outfit wearing jeans and work boots bid.

"SOLD!" Ted yelled with no hesitation. "Come and take your prize."

The rugged man came to the center. "What is your name, Sir?

"They call me Bossman. I'm the foreman on the site."

"Well, Mr. Bossman, the Tee is all yours."

Bossman first rubbed his hands all over the black shirt, giving special attention to pinching the boy's nipples in the process. Oddly, Rhett thought, "OK, just take my shirt; there's no need to make love to it."

Then the tall Bossman leaned over and planted a kiss on the twink boy's stunned-open mouth. "OK, for $200, I guess we can give you a little bonus, Mr. Bossman," Ted said, and everyone laughed.

The bidder then grabbed the T-shirt at the bottom and slowly, very slowly, pulled it up and off the boy's head and upward arms. "Nice," he said. And walked back to his seat.

"Dear sweet boy, you are such a good sport. You have helped us raise a lot of money so far. Thanks. Wonderful. But this is all due to the generous bidders. Do you think you should thank them?" Then Ted placed the mic in front of Rhett's lips. "What do you have to say?"

The boy was stunned, in a daze. Standing there in only his obscene polka-dot bikini. "Ah, yes, thank you for bidding, guys. Thank you all. I'll take my seat now." He mumbled.

"Of course, you may sit down just as soon as the bidding is over."

"But I have no more clothes to bid on. Can I do something else besides lose my clothes?" The other odd thing that Rhett did not catch is that no one actually put any money in the fund jar. He saw a lot of guys raising their hands with fives, tens, and twenties, but no one actually turned the money over. Too bad he didn't notice that. It would have signaled to him that the bidding and the entire fundraiser itself... was a ruse.

"Well, let's see." Ted looked at the large audience of lusty men. "Does anyone want to bid on this lad doing something entertaining?"

"$100, if I can just check out his skimpy, tiny sexy bikini. I want to feel it. It's so cute." A man named Jonathan asked.

"Sure. How do you want him?"

Rhett was dizzy. He was woozy. Shaking as he stood there. Thinking, "How does he want me? What does that mean?"

Jonathan came up, "He looks like he's a little shocked with all our attention. Let's have him lay on one of these tables." The two guys at the immediate table stood up and stepped back as they cleared their drinks off. "This is great. Tanks guys. A couple of you lift him up and set his back on the tabletop."

These were little 24-inch circular bar tables. They set his lower back on the table, allowing his shoulders and head to lean down and off and his legs to fall off the other side. So only his lower back and ass were on the table. "Hey guys," Ted said, "he must be uncomfortable like this. How about you two guys hold his head, neck, and shoulders up level, and... you other two guys hold his legs up." Ted directed.

"OK, Jonathan, is this OK for you? Can you feel his little panties now?" Ted asked, and everyone laughed at the word "panties."

"Well, almost," Then he directed the leg holders to move the boy's legs wider apart. They did. "OK, know we need more of you to hold his arms out. I don't want him pushing my hands away as I feel him up." Two more men gladly came forward, each picking up and holding up an arm.

"This is great." And Jonathan began to light rub and tease Rhett's polka dot triangle, feeling the outline of his dick." Oh, this lad is so sexy."

"$100 to let me suck his toes," a gentleman holding the boy's right foot bid, and before Ted could say yes, the guy holding the left foot bid $200. {Yes and Yes, go ahead. Suck all the toes you want.

"$300 if I can play with his nipples," Ted just nodded. And that man first teased, tickled, scratched, and then sucked on the boy's nipples alternatingly. Everyone was gathered around, reaching in to touch the held-down boy or at least watched intently. Everyone was lost in a frenzy.

Something very odd struck him. They wanted him. They liked him. He was surprised that he enjoyed much of this attention, even in his submissive situation.

A straight lad with a raging boner peeking out from under his tiny polka dot triangle. Ted had to step back. He lost control of the "fun-raiser." That was fine. Everyone was having a good time at Rhett's expense.

One fellow, named Jasper, was videoing the entire event. It seemed weird to do at a public gay bar activity. Stange? And he was not even a Board member. He was the webmaster of an underground gay website called GayTies.com. This video and videos of the other slaves in training were posted on GayTies.com. What a unique gay site this is.

The man holding Rhett's head, without even pretending to bid, opened his zipper and let out his flaccid dick, moving his hips to have the tip placed on Rhett's lips. The dick man whispered to Rhett, "Just relax your jaw,' as he lowered the boy's head a few inches. This caused Rhett's mouth to open and the dick to slip in. "That a good boy. Just open wide." He did not realize he was swallowing a man's dick, a hard dick. He didn't know what he was doing but was obeying all commands.

Teasing the boy's polka dot triangle, Jonathan slowly untied the side strings and let the bikini fall onto the floor. Ted did not miss that and quickly stooped down and grabbed it. He now had his special reward. Ted was so happy. He sniffed and licked the polka dots.

Then Johahan bent way over and licked Rhett's now firm and twitching dick. He was an expert at edging. He licked it like an ice cream cone. And covered it fully with his open mouth. But he did suck it. He tongued it, worshipped it. Made love to it. Rhett's hips automatically jerked up and down. He was fucking something but didn't even think about who or what it was. The boy sucked dick in his mouth and pushed his hips upward as high as possible, but the mouth in charge moved upward as well, denying the boy the friction he needed to blast off.

One of the guys holding the boy's arm and hand out loosened his pants and inserted the boy's hand into his underwear, placing his big manly balls in the palm of that sexy hand. Which caused Rhett to wiggle his fingers. The other hand holder saw it and also put the hand he was holding into his own underwear and made sure his dick was being finger-tickled by the incoherent boy.

When the hand holders were not getting enough finger wiggling, one winked to the other as he tickled the out-stretched underarm. That tickling of each armpit caused the boy to wiggle his fingers more aggressively, pleasing the two men and causing him to suck the dick in his mouth harder.

All of a sudden, one of the patrons took an empty long-necked beer bottle and slowly pushed it into the boy's asshole. Remember, Rhett is straight; he never had anything up his asshole before, but his body was spasming all over, and his feet that were held up and wide apart were still being licked. His armpits were being viscously tickled, his nipples, now each one sucked and nibbled on by two different men, were super sensitive, and his dick, now unmouthed and jutting straight up, was twitching and jerking. RHETT PASSED OUT! His boy remained jerking and trembling as all enjoyed it, but he was out of it. The bottle was slowly working in and out of his ass, causing the boy to EXPLODE! It was the most beautiful explosion of an unconscious lad ever. He came all over the men who were nearby. And then the towering dick subsided. They slowly released his limbs and let his head and shoulder gently fall back. Everyone applauded and shouted. Then, they all stepped back.

Ted nodded to Jenson, who did not participate but did set this up, not the details that happened to unfold. Nobody controlled those, but he and a few others created the general plan to erotically work this young man over. "He's all yours to continue our plan," Ted said. "You may take him home now. Jenson and the others were so pleased it had all gone as expected.

Two of the men carried the boy to Jenson's car, as Jenson led the way. The little twink straight boy, who will always be top and always in control, has provided a full night of entertainment. The first of many nights to come. Jenson drove him to his home. Or rather, the mansion he (and others) pretended was his home. And the scheme continues.

The next morning, Jenson and Rhett had a long talk. Jenson was dressed in his suit, and Rhett was sitting up in bed, naked but covered. It was helpful for both to understand each other.

"Ah, Sir? Where are my clothes?"

"Rhett, what do you remember about last night?"

"Ah, it was a fundraiser, and they were auctioning off my clothes," Then he said to himself, "Oh, so that's where my clothes went." He thought more, "and some guy wanted to kiss me. I told him no, but it was a fundraiser for a good cause. After that, everything got fuzzy. I think I over-drunk or something. I am so sorry. I must have acted stupid. I don't remember, except the guys seemed to like me and applauded and cheered me on, maybe when I was singing a song and dancing, but I'm not sure."

"Yes, you have a lovely voice," Jenson lied. "Too bad about your clothes, but you did a hell of a job in raising money for the new community center." He paused, "As for your clothes, don't worry about them. You look great naked." He chuckled.

"But I need my ..."

Jenson interrupted, "I did think some of the guys were getting a little handsy, so I pushed them away and brought you here with me."

"You rescued me?"

To be continued.....

I will upload the next chapter in a few days. Thanks for reading.

Let me know what you think of this story. I'm open to comments and suggestions as I write. My email is: gaydic@gmail.com