Fucked Up Ch. 03

The first thing that occurred to me, as the door of the huge master bedroom was locked shut behind me, was how totally fucked I was. Followed shortly thereafter by the realisation that I was almost certainly going to have my arse fucked - for the first time in my entire 37 years on Earth - by some perverse, voyeuristic sadist, in about twenty minutes' time. Then I looked down, and wondered why this thought seemed to be making my cock not just stand fully to attention - the combination of steel hardness and my gentle curve causing the head to point almost straight up towards the ceiling as I stood there naked - but positively to throb with excitement. And finally, I turned my attention to what was on the bed.

I walked towards the end of the bed, laid over which was a single, sparkly white traditional jockstrap, but two pairs of red and white striped socks. What the Hell was I supposed to do with the spares, wear them as gloves or something? I hardly knew my blackmailer, but right at that moment I could've suspected him of all manner of weird fetishes. Perhaps I was expected to put them all on, get down on all fours and make like some kind of animal? And there was another thing - the shower was already running.

A door was slightly ajar in one corner of the bedroom, and the unmistakable sound of jets of water spattering on hard surfaces was audible from within. As if there was somebody already in there... I pushed at the door, and it swung open to reveal, at the far end, a large glass enclosure with a sliding door. It was well steamed-up, but it was quite obvious from the outline inside that there was a very tall man, standing naked behind the glass. Before I had any time to collect my thoughts, the door was pulled back from the inside, the towering male figure revealing himself to me. "You must be Ryan, the boss told me all about you. You're the one who likes to fuck in the gym showers. I can dig that, have had some pretty good shags in the showers myself."

I stood there open-mouthed, and might've been salivating were I not in quite such shock from the surprise. The guy in the shower was very well muscled - I was quite well built, but he stripped like a heavyweight boxer - and also tall. More than me I'd guess, maybe 6'6" or 6'7" - a veritable goliath! Plenty of nice, thick male body hair, all dark brown, wet and soapy. A clean-shaven face though, matching the clean-shaven head. Heavily inked across his chest and upper arms. And, between broad, beefy thighs... metal! What the fuck happened to his cock?!

"Well come on man, stop ogling my fucking cock and get your arse over here. We'll get you cleaned up and I'll answer some of the questions you've got."

He held out one massive arm in my direction and beckoned me in. The expression on his face was deadly serious, but there was something in his dark, mahogany eyes that betrayed the fact that he wanted to get his hands on my body. I walked over, and stepped into the enclosure. The big bloke closed the door behind me, before his hand wrapped itself around my rod. I flinched a little, but he didn't release his grip.

"That's a nice piece you've got there Ryan - almost as impressive as mine, when I'm allowed to show it off to best effect." I'd worked out what had happened to the man by now: a chastity device. A shiny steel ring locked securely around the base of the scrotum, with a curved tube of steel slipped over his lengthy penile shaft and attached to it. The guy's cock could not be removed from the tube without unlocking the device, and he was thus rendered impotent for so long as he wore it. Shit! I'm not sure how well I would cope with such frustration. I hoped that the poor bloke hadn't been locked up like that for long.

"The thing on my dick's a chastity device, a punishment from the boss. I fucked a guy without permission, and it was one of his men at that. So, now I'm locked in this thing. No hardons for an entire month, just plenty of hard arse shaggings. Mind you, the other lad was a serial offender. Talk about your bum ruling your head, he should've known better than to cross the boss once too often. He went off to market, poor dozy fucker. Now come here, let's get you cleaned up."

The man pulled very gently on my cock, drawing me under the shower head with him. He raised his other hand, and ran it slowly down my chest. I put my arms around his waist, drawing our bodies even close together, such that my balls and the base of my hardon felt the cool, slippery wetness of the steel that encased and completely neutralised his manhood. The fact that this huge emblem of masculinity lusted after me, and yet he had been deprived of the very ability to fuck which I still possessed, was powerfully erotic. Somewhere deep down inside, a small voice was calling me out for the total slut that my behaviour had so often revealed me to be, but I wasn't listening. I'd never fucked a guy as big as this before. At that moment, I could think of nothing but sinking my cock balls deep into his hard arse! But he wasn't playing that particular game.

"Don't fucking think for one moment that just cos I like the look of your cock I'm going to let you do me up the arse right here, mate. Don't forget what I just told you: the boss's men are expected not to screw around with anybody else, except by permission. I've been put in your way to tell you that, get you well worked up for your duties in the sack, and to get cleaned up as well so that the boss can have both of us on that bed together. That's all."

I let go of the muscle guy's waist and pulled back just slightly, separating our bodies. It was a disappointment to say the least, but at least coming down off the crescendo of list enabled me to start thinking about something other than the imperative to have sex with him, just for a moment.

"Why are you here mate - why let this fucker lock your dick up in some sick torture device. And who the Hell is he, anyway?"

"I'm in the same boat as you mate. I started out being blackmailed, and then I learned to know my place. Mr Arrington makes you understand that some men are meant to be subordinate. Although I guess it's easier to take for some guys than others. I was used to taking orders, being part of a team with a management above me. Shit, the boss wasn't even the first time a guy took control with me - when I was 19, well... But, that don't matter. Fact is, my dick, arse and everything else belong to the boss now, when he wants to use them. You'll get used to that too."

It seemed as though this massive bloke had already been broken to the will of our tormentor. I found it hard to understand how someone like that could, apparently, turn out to be such a pussy - until I realised that I was halfway down the same path myself. Let's face it, I had got down on my knees and sucked this man Arrington's cock like a whore not ten minutes ago, when I could just as easily have bitten the thing off. I was already beginning to learn my own place, too, it would seem. The thought was frightening, disgusting - and arousing. The thought of being a champion cocksucker summoned repressed feelings, a kind of twisted pride from deep within my being. So much shame yet so much pleasure at the same time. So fucking confusing. I struggled to make any sense of my situation.

Muscles and I soaped up and rinsed off for a couple of minutes. Eventually, I processed what we'd said so far and ventured a couple of questions,

"Arrington... I've heard that name somewhere... obviously wealthy, and appears to own the gym as well. Can't quite place it though."

"Duncan Arrington, a businessman with fingers in all sort of pies. Gyms, construction, motor dealerships, you name it. And organised crime - sex trafficking if nothing else. Quite often in the papers, looking respectable, smart, well-spoken - but he's a very nasty piece of work. Enjoys bending men like us to his will, using us for his fucking twisted pleasure. Worst thing is, you soon learn to enjoy it. Unless you're like Richard, and can't quite cope with the discipline. Can't resist opening your mouth, or putting your arse about a bit. Then the only way is down. Oh, and he doesn't like his men calling him by name - always address him as boss or sir if you want an easier life."

"Damn, now you've told me the story I can remember the fucker quite clearly from the papers. Mate, we're not just under the thumb of a sick fuck, but a sick and very powerful fuck too. And this Richard, I take it that's the bloke who led to you ending up locked in that thing - what...?"

"Don't ask any more - trust me, you don't want to know what happened, just that he's most likely gone for good now. And I've said too much already. Come on, let's get out of here and get towelled down, we'll be expected to be ready."

Muscles turned off the water, slid back the door and led the way out. His arse was stunning, about a 19 out of 10 and begging to be fucked. I was guessing that both of us were going to get ploughed by Arrington before the evening was up. He grabbed a couple of towels, turned round and passed me one. As I got my first good look at his face close up and in full light, it suddenly dawned on me who the man was. Oh fuck, it couldn't be! But it was.

"Holy shit, man, you're Sam Alberly!"

"Yeah, that's me pal!" He allowed himself a wry smile and a little laugh, "A fan, are we? Amazing how many people, even now, still can't quite credit it when they find out a professional rugby player is gay. Of course, it's not a career killer, but if they knew EVERYTHING, well... that's why I don't mess the fuck about with the boss, man. He's a keeper of secrets - the criminal, the dirty, the humiliating. And I'd be ruined if..." Sam paused, then changed the subject. "But come on, the boss'll be back any minute, let's hurry up and get dried off."

Un-fucking-believable. Sam Alberly - a seventeen stone centre, big even for his position. An aggressive player with a less than perfect disciplinary record. A snarling, scrapping thug on the pitch. And a submissive beta male who takes it up the arse from a man twice his age off it. How many more guys like him were out there? I'd never look at the game in quite the same way again.

We did as Sam suggested, and I took the opportunity to ask a few more questions. Turned out that the injury that had kept him off the field for the last four weeks was staged, with the help of one or two individuals down the rugby club who were either friends of Arrington or under his power. Hence the fact that he could avoid playing or locker room situations where his... appendage would not be revealed to those not already in the know. His cock would finally be unlocked again at the end of the week, and he would be able to relieve his frustration at last with his partner. I tried to ask again about the mysterious Richard, but Sam would say nothing more than that he was a man who had seduced many other guys into sex and that the boss had got rid of him. Was Richard dead? I wasn't sure. Sam had said something about sending him to market, which I thought must be code for something else, but I wasn't at all sure what.

I also ventured to ask Sam about Todd. He had met Todd a couple of times at private parties organised by Arrington, and they'd once had a threesome together, but he knew nothing about Todd's life outside of his dealings with the boss and had not seen him at all recently. That little mystery, at least, continued to deepen.

We finished towelling off, and went to the bedroom to get our gear on. The single jock was for me - the boss likes to fuck fit men wearing jocks, I was told - and, since my cock had lost a little of its rigidity since we got out of the shower, I managed to stuff it into the pouch. Sam, on the other hand, did not deserve one because he wasn't fully a man so long as he was impaired. The boss, he explained, also liked to be able to see the chastity device during sex, this expression of his total power over such a strong male's sexuality, and for Sam himself to be able to look down and see his humiliation, as well as feel its uncomfortable hardness and weight. We pulled our socks on, and Sam got on the bed.

"Get on with me mate, and start making out. The boss fetishises all kinds of sporty lads, but rugby players are his favourite. He really gets off on exerting his power over guys like me, and fucking them. So, I'm part of this for an obvious reason. And you, Ryan, whilst you're not quite powerful enough for the modern game, still have enough beef to pass muster for the boss's fantasies. He'll love coming in here to find us getting into a bit of rough and tumble, and then he'll enjoy drilling our holes even more."

I made myself at home on the huge bed with Sam, and we began feeling each other up and kissing passionately. I moved close up into his arms, and soon we found ourselves wrapped around one another, a tangle of arms and legs with hands moving everywhere. He began to work my dick and, as it quickly rose back to full extension, the head pushed aside the waistband of the cock, the elastic now pressing it tightly and uncomfortably against my midriff. My own hand explored the novel and fascinating object between Sam's legs, a restraint that deprived him of so much pleasure. As my hand moved down to cup his large hairy bollocks, I felt his entire genitalia twitch, and he let out a brief groan: his desire to achieve erection was immense, yet his frustration would remain total until the cruel metal devices were removed by the boss. I allowed my hand to wander up and over his prick, feeling the coldness of his restraint.

My own frustrations were of a different kind: I could get it up and I wanted to get it in Sam's arse, but I knew that I would be denied the pleasure. Rather, it would be me receiving cock tonight.

We continued feeling each other up for another couple of minutes. I was getting more and more excited, although - if I closed my eyes - I briefly imagined that it was Todd, not Sam, that I was playing with. Sam was so huge that he was almost overpowering in a situation like this. I was made to feel small in his embrace. Sam was extremely hot, and if I had the chance I would've loved to fuck him, but Todd and I were a better fit for one another physically, and personality wise we really got along. Despite the fact that our sex had led to this situation, I could see how Todd could be forgiven for co-operating in one of Arrington's filthy plots. The man obviously had a hold over him. I found myself wondering what had happened to Todd. Worrying about his safety. Wondering if I would ever see him again. But then, I opened my eyes and saw the massive stranger who had been sent to work me over tonight, and remembered that there were things I had to do, and to endure, right now. Todd would have to wait.

I heard the bedroom door unlock, and open. The twenty minutes was obviously up. In walked Arrington and his guards. The boss looked pleased. The guards just smirked at the sight of two big hairy guys acting, they must've thought, like total faggots. "Now, isn't this nice - none of all that unnecessary swearing and violence, just two big, beefy bitches getting ready to serve. It's good to see that you are learning your place so quickly Ryan. If you had only done the same Samuel, then I would not have had to deprive you of the use of your cock. Still, learn your lesson this time around, and we can avoid harsher - and more permanent - punishments going forward. We don't want to have to send you to visit Daddy Andrew, now do we Samuel?"

"No boss."

"Very good. Gentlemen," Arrington said, gesturing to his two goons, "I think I can take these two from here."

The guards laughed, and went to take up their previous stations, closing and locking the door behind them. Arrington began, slowly, to strip.

"You know where everything belongs Samuel - why don't you put away these clothes nicely?"

"Yes sir," Sam replied. Even though our conversation had at times been awkward, it wasn't as serious as the way in which Sam spoke to the boss. He adopted a submissive posture, amazing for a man who must've been 25 years younger, at least five stone heavier, and six or seven inches taller, than Arrington. He could, quite possibly, have destroyed this scumbag with a single punch. Come to think of it, I could've done something similar myself. Working together, I reckon we'd have had a decent shot of taking out the guards as well. But neither of us tried. We were both, at that moment, under his spell.

Sam put away Arrington's shoes, returned, and took away his shirt, tie and cufflinks. The shirt was taken into the bathroom, where there must've been somewhere to put away laundry. "I'm pleased that you put on the gear that I had Samuel lay out for you, Ryan. You look like a real team player now. I imagine that fine arse of yours looks good enough to eat in that tight white jockstrap - almost too tight, actually, judging by what has happened to your penis! Perhaps I should make you wear a restraint as well, after you mounted Todd without permission - but you didn't know he was part of my stable then, so I suppose I can let you off this once. Now, get up on all fours, and show me that tight backside."

I did as was commanded. I felt ashamed presenting my arse for inspection, yet at the same time so turned on. The fear of what the boss planned to do to me - to force his penis inside of my body, sodomizing and degrading me before a witness - was exceeded only by the excitement at the thought of carrying through what I had started in his study to a logical conclusion. I had always lusted after men more than women, and now I was under the control of a more powerful male I felt an increasing urge to surrender, both to him directly and, through his agency, to the gay side of my personality. I wanted to explore my homosexuality more completely, and the imperative to do so was so great that even abasing myself before another man and giving in to him completely seemed, suddenly, a price worth paying.

"Mmmmm, very nice. You can tell two things from that view. Firstly, that the owner of that arse works out. Secondly, that he is a cock hungry faggot. You are a faggot, aren't you Ryan?"

I turned my head to look behind me. Arrington had slipped off his underwear and was naked - except for long, black rugger socks. I'm guessing he was taking the part of either the coach or the referee in this sick fantasy. His thick six incher was stiff and definitely ready to give me what I both dreaded and needed in equal measure.

"Yes sir." I still couldn't quite believe that simple answer came out of my mouth. I was getting really into this.

"You are a cock hungry faggot who exists to serve the needs of stronger men. Tell it how it is, Ryan. Say it all."

"I am a cock hungry faggot who exists to serve you, sir." Such humiliating words! And enough to make my dick throb.

"Very good Ryan! I think that you'll fit right in on the team. Isn't that right Samuel?"

"Yes sir."

"Now, fetch me my lubrication and then go and get Ryan ready. A fit jockstrapped backside like that is simply crying out for a bloody good fucking."

So, this was it, no going back from what was to happen. I already felt the desire for men more strongly than ever before. Even though I was apprehensive, even though I feared that it might be painful, I knew that taking it up the arse - under duress, perhaps, but nonetheless without a fight - would, most likely, completely fucking queer me. I would never be the same man again. Arrington began massaging his prick with the lube, and it suddenly dawned on me that he was going to have me bareback! I felt a tightening in the pit of my stomach, and began to breathe a little harder. I'd never gone bare with any man, even though - as a top - it was less risky for me. But now, I was going to take another man's sperm in my guts. This I was more worried about than any potential pain from getting fucked, but I also reckoned I was too far into this whole thing to get out now. I drew in another sharp breath and tried to calm down. The guy was wealthy, and clearly intelligent, and I had to hope that he took at least some care in terms of keeping himself safe. If he wanted to fuck his load into me, I would just have to take it.