I slept badly that night, having loads of dreams that involved me being trapped or chained into tight spaces. It was a relief in the end to wake up and find there was nothing holding me down and it just felt good to move my arms around by my side, checking that I could.
Things had gotten seriously out of control yesterday. I should never have let it get to that stage, but thinking back, it was hard to remember when I could have stopped things. Either way, now it was over, and I needed to get on with the work I came out here to do. Toby, my colleague, would be arriving later today, so all of that other stuff would just have to be forgotten. If CJ texted again, I decided I would just ignore it.
Feeling a bit more relaxed, I got up and started to pull together the papers for the survey work I needed to do that day. I glanced up at the mirror in front of the desk, and only then remembered the mark on my neck. I tried rubbed at it with my finger but it had no effect on the mark. With a slight sinking feeling in my stomach I went through to the bathroom and grabbed the bar of soap, rubbing it over the marking, and using water to wash away the suds, but still it had no effect. I even tried scratching at it with my fingernails, but it still did nothing, except leaving temporary red lines across my neck. It looked like this thing was going to be here to stay.
The mark itself was reasonably subtle though. It was only about 2cm tall and a black shield shape, with a further outline around it. Still, I wasn't exactly the sort of guy you would expect to see with a neck tattoo; it looked pretty incongruous. I tried different shirts and tops on, to see if the collars were high enough on any of them to hide it, but Jason had obviously placed it carefully so that that wasn't going to be possible. They had said like 100 guys on the island would recognise the sign but they'd be subtle. Fuck, this was messed up.
Still, if I just focused on work, didn't go out much and kept my head down, CJ and the guys would forget about me and move onto their next victim, and before I knew it, I'd be on the plane home. That was my plan.
The rest of the day went quickly, getting on with my work, and by the time I got the text from Toby to say his plane had landed, I was feeling loads better. An hour or two later he'd arrived at the hotel and checked in and we met in the bar for an evening drink.
Despite the flight he was looking ok on it. I think after my 18 hour flight, I'd looked like death warmed up, but he was looking just fine. His thick brown hair a bit ruffled up, but still with that cheeky grin. He was a couple of years younger than me and one rank below me, although it was the kind of cool business where rank only really related to experience and everyone was treated pretty equally. He obviously hadn't changed from the flight, so was still wearing a sweater and some pretty tight jogging bottoms. I don't know if it was just everything that had happened to me in the last few days, but I couldn't help myself getting drawn down to the bulge that was emerging from beneath the fabrics of his bottoms. I trained myself out of looking.
We exchanged our experiences of the flight (though not all of mine), and it didn't take him long to comment on my neck.
"So, like, what exactly is that on your neck man?"
I laughed. Thankfully I had prepared for this.
"Ah, it's a stupid thing. The other night in the bar there was just this guy doing temporary neck tattoos, and I'd had a couple of drinks and just thought what the hell"
Toby looked sceptical. In fairness, it didn't sound like something I would do.
"So how long does it stay on for?"
"Just a couple of weeks I think. It's not too offensive though, pretty subtle" I said, trying to convince him.
He nodded, considering it.
"So why a shield?"
I shrugged. "He could only do a few shapes, and I figured this was the most masculine".
Toby smiled, getting the irony in my voice. I was not the most masc guy, and that was obvious to everyone. In fairness, no-one in our office at work was exactly an alpha male. Although Toby of anybody in the office probably was one of the more masculine. You could imagine he was a good fuck.
The conversation moved on and Toby went to get another drink while I went across to the loo.
I turned the corner towards the gents, and from nowhere a guy at the bar grabbed my arm and pulled me over to where him and another guy were sitting, enjoying their drink. I shook myself loose of his grip and stepping back I saw it was a beefy guy, about 40, sitting there with another guy maybe a few years younger. They were coming to the end of their drinks and from their breath I suspected it wasn't their first.
"Nice tattoo" the guy said, glancing obviously down at my neck.
I swallowed hard, knowing what this meant.
The older guy took my arm again and drew me in closer.
"Do exactly as I say and whoever you're drinking with round there doesn't need to know anything more about that little fag tag on your neck boy. Understood?"
Meekly, I nodded at him.
"Good boy. Now, go back round to the bar and fetch a full pint of beer for me, cos I'm thirsty."
Then he let go of me and that was it.
That felt almost like a relief. I went back round to the bar. Toby had taken our drinks back to the table, so I dropped back over there quickly.
"Sorry man, just need to get a beer for a guy round the corner -- I owe him one from the other night"
Toby raised his eyebrows. "Wow, getting to know the locals already" he said.
If only he knew.
I quickly went and got the beer and returned round the corner. When I got there only the younger guy was left. He just grinned at me and subtly indicated to the gents. I went to put the beer down on the bar, but he shook his head. "Take it with you homo" he said quietly. "Last cubicle on the right. Tap three times."
I took the beer and, casually as I could, walked into the gents. When I went in I saw there were three cubicles and both the left and right hand ones were occupied. I knew I'd been told to tap on the right hand one but I was so scared of getting it wrong. But right now I was just standing there in a gents room with a full pint of beer and feeling pretty stupid. I started to hear noises from the left hand stall of a guy starting to do up his belt, and I didn't want to be here when he came out of the stall. I quickly went and tapped three times on the right hand cubicle. Almost immediately the bolt opened and the door slid open. Without even being able to see him inside at first, I slipped in, just as the door to the far cubicle opened.
The man from the bar was sitting on the toilet grinning. He had taken off his boots and trousers and was now naked except for a tight white tshirt, showing off a muscled chest underneath. He grinned at me, took the beer from my hand and started drinking, then pointed to the floor, which I took as an instruction to kneel, and obeyed.
With one hand he drank and with the other hand he held his 8" rock solid cock at the root and swayed it back and forward, hypnotising me. After he'd drunk about half the pint he put it down on the floor, next to the toilet brush and grabbed my hair, standing up and pulling me towards him.
He held on tight to my hair, pushing my hands behind my back, when I tried to use them for balance. He held me so my nose and mouth were centimetres away from his dick, and the smell of his sweat and musk filled me up. Then he pulled my head backwards so he could look down at my face, and with his free hand, pushed three fingers in my mouth. They tasted of tobacco and I wanted to choke, but instead I just stayed fully still surrendering to him. He smiled at how docile he'd made me. Then he started finger fucking my mouth, hard, deep thrusts, testing how well I was going to take his dick. After he was satisfied that my mouth hole was worthy, he took the fingers out and replaced them with his dick.
Nobody else had come into the gents, so he had the place to himself, but still when he spoke, he reached down a little and whispered it.
"Faggot, this hole belongs to me, got it?"
I nodded.
"I want you to keep those arms behind your back, empty your mind and only think about my dick in your hole. You don't even exist. You're a hole for my dick faggot, only a hole. No thoughts, no feelings, just a fucking warm hole for a real man. Got it?"
I nodded, and focused on what he'd told me. He started up pushing his hard dick inside me. Both his hands were holding firm on the side of me head and he found a rhythm with his dick. All I could think about was his dick pushing into my throat, the feeling and the sound each time his cockhead pressed at the back of my mouth, and a little more entered my throat. I forgot about the feeling in my knees, and about my arms behind my back. I even forgot about my chest and head, because he held it so firmly, it wasn't mine to use any more. I relaxed and started to enjoy the feeling and wanted my throat to open up so I could take more of him inside me and give him more pleasure. He obviously felt it and started fucking my throat deeper, in and out.
Once he'd loosened my throat up, he grabbed my hair again and holding onto me, sat back down on the toilet, his legs spread wide. He guided me back down onto his cock, and this time leaned back and grabbing both sides of my head started bouncing my mouth up and down on his dick. I could feel him getting even harder, and he started holding me down with his dick deep in my throat for a couple of seconds at a time before releasing me and fucking my mouth some more.
After the fourth time of this, he held me there for longer and I felt a flood of jizz emptying deep into my stomach. He pulled me up just enough to take the dick out my throat so I could breathe, but keeping it in my mouth, and holding my head firm until he'd gone soft.
When his breathing returned to normal he leaned down to me again and whispered.
"Pick up that pint glass with your mouth doggy"
It took a second for me to realise he meant the glass of beer, but I moved myself round the toilet to reach it and picked it up like he told me. There was still almost half a pint of beer in it. Scared of dropping it, I held a hand underneath it, but my teeth were stronger than I realised. He motioned me to move it so it was underneath his cock, and I obeyed.
Almost immediately I felt the powerful flow of his piss begin to fill the glass, some of it hitting me around the nose and mouth then running down into the glass. In no time it was full again.
"Take it back out there when you go faggot. I'm going to watch you take my piss beer and sit down again with your mate and drink every drop of it down".
Before I could do anything, he opened the cubicle door, pushed me out and locked it again.
I stood up quickly, scared someone would walk in, and put the glass down by the sink. It did look exactly like beer still, you'd never know it was half full of a man's piss. I checked and my clothes were still all on and straight. There were slight wet patches on my jeans from kneeling, but nothing major, nothing you'd notice. I took a paper towel and wiped my face and the outside of the glass. Then I swirled it a little and took a gulp to test if I could stomach it. I could still taste the beer, although I could also taste the man's piss draining down inside me. I knew I didn't have a choice though.
The bathroom door opened, and my heart leapt, but somehow recovered a little when I saw it was just the other beefy who had been sitting at the bar. He came over to me, sniffed the pint and grinned.
"Nasty little piss-chugging fuck" he said, and hocked up a wad of phlegm and spat it right in my face, then disappeared into a cubicle.
I stood and looked at myself in the mirror, fag tag on my neck, glass of one mans piss in my hand, and phlegm of another man dripping down my face. In just a few days, this was what CJ and Jason had turned me into.
I started to hear the first guy finish up in the cubicle, so I took another paper towel and wiped the phlegm off, then quickly headed back out to Toby. I must have been gone 10 minutes.
"Hey man, I was starting to worry about you" Toby said. He'd already drunk most of his way through his second pint. "Did your friend not want the pint then?"
I looked confused, then looked again at the pint in my hand and the one on the table.
"Oh, right, yeah, no, we just chatted for a few minutes, but turned out he needed to head off, so he told me to take the pint after all"
"Well seeing as you have two full pints now and I'm almost done, how about I take that one off you?" he said, reaching for the one in my hand.
Instinctively I pulled the glass of piss-beer away, but then recovered myself. "Good plan" I said, taking a gulp of the piss-beer in my hand. "You take that one" I said indicating the real beer on the table".
My heart rate was just returning to normal and I started asking Toby if he'd got himself prepared for some of the mapping work the next day. As the senior one of the two of us at work, it felt reassuring to start organising and taking control again. Although each sip I took of my drink was reminding me how ridiculous it was that I was pretending to be his superior while I was sitting, obediently drinking another man's piss.
Suddenly we both felt a hand on our shoulders, and I looked up to see the man who's jizz was coating my throat and whose piss I could taste on my tongue.
"Alright lads, you look new around here. I'm not sticking round, but as a little welcome, here's a tenner to get yourselves a drink, if you can down these pints in one, like a proper local".
Toby grinned. "Wow, thanks man, that's so kind", and he lifted his glass ready to go.
I looked up at the man and he stared expectantly at me.
"What's up, don't you like the beer in here?" he said, light-heartedly, but looking at me with real intent. He wanted his piss all inside me.
"No, it tastes great, really good, thankyou" I stuttered out, thinking to myself how I was going to be able to down all his piss like this in front of my colleague.
"Good boy" he said to me, almost like I was a dog. "Ok, go" he said to us both, and I had no choice but to follow Toby's lead and tip it back and down my throat.
"Good work boys, open up those throats and let it all down there"
My throat was flooded with the bitter taste of his piss and for a second I choked and some came spilling out my mouth over my face and on my clothes. Not wanting to be soaked in piss and have Toby realise what it was, I quickly opened my throat like the man said and the rest of his piss and beer soaked its way down inside me.
Toby finished first and put his glass down, and I was a few seconds after. I screwed up my face at the acrid taste, but at least it had got it over with.
The man was grinning. "Taste good?"
I nodded and Toby shot the guy a funny look.
The man slapped my face lightly twice and slipped the tenner in my shirt pocket.
"Enjoy your stay boys" he said, then walked off.
"Are all the locals this weird?" Toby asked after he was out of earshot.
I just nodded. Toby suddenly looked quite tired, all that flying time catching up with him.
"How about we save that money to get the first one in tomorrow?" he suggested.
I agreed, and we both headed to our rooms.
As I lay in bed I thought about Toby, and of the man and the way his cock owned my throat and owned me. I desperately didn't want Toby to find out any of this. It felt like I got away with it tonight. I don't think he suspected anything. My mind wandered to thinking about Toby's dick, and how it would feel to have that dick inside my throat, and his hand holding my hair and looking down at me. No. I couldn't think about that. Toby had to know nothing. This stuff had to stay on the island only. I just had to make sure I could contain it.