In the Den of the Beast

He stands up quickly.

"That's it! We're going to the Grove to get you groomed this afternoon!"

"We? I can go myself."

"Nonsense!" he says, waggling his finger and winking. "I'm invested now in seeing you keep your vow to Hasan, and I don't trust you to not make puppy-dog eyes at the first hot piece of ass you see on a grooming table. Besides, we had boy's night yesterday, but we still need a boy's afternoon! We'll get you fixed up and do a late lunch and then Vanessa will be back."

It was the first time I had been back in the Grove since walking out on James. Part of me wanted to run into the gym and see if he was there or run to his apartment and curl up on the couch and wait for him. But Alex kept a firm grip on my shoulder and steered me in through the front door and into the small waiting area by the front desk.

It was weird to be going to the groomer's fully clothed, although I was only wearing a white sleeveless hoodie with no undershirt and some baggie sweatpants since I knew I'd be out of them in a few minutes. It was even weirder that I almost instantly saw someone familiar I hadn't expected to see again.

"Well, hey there, Steven!" exclaims Claudia, giving me an enormous hug before I could register what was going on. She was exactly as I remembered, although her magenta hair was now jet black and she was wearing a shocking pink sports bra and different jewelry along with her favorite paint-splattered jean shorts. I hold onto the hug for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of her incredibly firm breasts.

"Hey!" she chirps to Alex, who she of course clearly knows as well. "How's V?"

"Great," he says. "Working too hard and stressing about the wedding. The usual."

She nods. "What do you lovely gents need this afternoon?"

"Just a touch-up for me, I think, but my little stud here needs a total makeover. Knock off some of the aesthetic changes that went with the surgery—we want the feel of that pale, innocent little nerd without giving up all of the hunkiness."

Claudia leads me to a normal barber's chair and takes care of my head and face, first, giving me a smooth shave and rubbing me with something minty that she said would "keep things manageable." The dye job took a lot longer, with her rubbing some foul-smelling chemical into my scalp and leaving it there for what felt like ages. We chatted idly, both carefully avoiding the topic of James. She did some work for him. She had to know.

Alex left, but came back pretty quickly and modeled his naked form for us. He's lost the wispy black hairs on his chin, chest, and underarms that I thought were so cute, but he's also swapped out his PA for one that is emerald green and looks slightly larger.

"Uh-oh," giggled Claudia. "Steven's getting excited. Do you two want a few minutes in the back room before he gets waxed?"

"No dice," explains Alex, hopping back into his tight black jeans and pulling on his striped tank top. "He's playing with a new Dom who's blue balling him. I'm supposed to be sponsoring him, keeping him honest."

"Well, shit," complains Claudia.

"I mean, good for you," she says nicely to me, "but I know how excitable you can be even at the best of times, and I'm going to be doing a lot of work on your downstairs. What's this new guy's name?"

"Hasan," I reply. "We only met last night."

Claudia's eyes widen and her mouth gapes open like she wants to say something, but she regains her composure almost instantly. I would just assume I was over-analyzing and it was nothing, but her heart rate has increased and I can smell her sweat more acutely. Hearing Hasan's name caused her to panic.

"How about you step out of those clothes and hop up on one of the tables on your tummy and Alex and I will check out our inventory and pick something that you can take home with you to help you be a good boy for Hasan?" Claudia purrs.

I want to ask her if she recognizes him or there's a Hasan in the Grove she knows about. Part of me is a little afraid -- he seemed so nice, but what if he has a reputation? -- but I'm increasingly worried that I misread the situation. Instead, I just nod in agreement, shuck off my hoodie, and step out my sweatpants. My cock and balls flop out eagerly, a little heavy from watching Alex parade around and being so close to Claudia's amazing, barely-clothed body. If the circumstances were different, I'd give myself a few pulls, maybe hop on the table and use my left hand to play with my hole until someone took pity on me and helped jerk me off. If circumstances were different . . .

My first time to the groomer's everything had still been fresh and new. James had decided a should be a little tanner, a little more blond, that he wanted a bit of hair to grab onto and scratch when I'd behaved myself. But when he ordered me up onto the table to get rubbed down and trimmed, the thrill of being so exposed in a public place and being touched and transformed so intimately was too much for me. I just had a thing for being shaved and shown off in front of other people. I started to moan and try to hump the large hole in the table where my genitals were supposed to rest, although James swatted me with some rolled-up paper and lifted me away, showing off my raging erection to the amusement of everyone. This only intensified my urges, and he had to sling me over his shoulder and carry me outside where he bent me over his knee and spanked me until my cheeks were reddened, right in front of the building so everyone inside could still watch. He spanked me until I went soft, and that night he rubbed me all over with a warm oil and made me watch my newly-groomed self get fucked in one of his big mirrors . . .

I'm dragged out of my reverie by the sudden, sharp sting of a strip of wax being removed from my back. I didn't even notice it getting poured on, but Claudia is going to town, pouring that dreadful yellowy stuff and rip-rip-ripping away with her army of white pads, working my shoulders then hopping back down to my ass. I get some cold cream rubbed on that tingles and numbs me, and she reminds me that if I make the right adjustment to my meds I should be hair-free for a solid week before the special topical treatment wears off.

Then it's onto my back to lose the special markings around my chest and obliques with more pouring, pressing, and ripping. I had gotten kind of attached to my body hair, but it was getting kind of unruly and lacked the clean edges of when it had been freshly groomed. The goal seems to be total hairlessness a la Alex's "Princess" look, and that takes some real elbow grease on Claudia's part and a lot of minor pain on mine.

Eventually, I'm done except for the area around my cock and balls, which of course she's saved for last. Fuck, I can't help but get hard thinking about Claudia reaching out to touch my cock, but she keeps focused on the mission. Thankfully, the cold cream that she uses also numbs me ass well, she although I'm rock-hard when she's actually waxing and I can feel the warmth and delicious pain, I soften quickly after the cream has been applied and rinsed away.

"Now, for a little present to take home with you," she laughs.

It's a fucking chastity cage, which angers me for a moment until I realize begrudgingly that this is probably the only way I'll make it without touching myself. Fortunately, this one doesn't seem designed to cause pain as much as it is just to hold everything in place. There's a leather pouch for my balls and a simple, clear sheath of something slightly rubbery like silicon that fits around my head and shaft and locks onto the pouch. There's a tiny bit of extra room so I'm not constantly feeling pressure, but not enough that I could get even a bit of a semi. The whole thing feels like I'm wearing an extra-thick condom, and although it bulges oddly in the front of my sweatpants, I can hardly feel it at all.

"I know where Hasan's at. I'll make sure he gets the key," promises Claudia. "You'll have to get permission from Alex when you need to pee -- he can undo the cap on the end for you so urine can get out, although take it easy."

She smiles and gives me another hug before we go, waiting to properly embarrass me until we turn to start walking out.

"Don't go on the floor, either, you naughty little boy!"

8: A Tease for a Dirty Boy

The next few days are agony. Although we don't explain all of the details, Vanessa is delighted by my forced chastity and parades around the house in just a bra, panties, and stockings. The night we get back from the groomers, she handcuffs me and meticulously ties me—naked except for my cage— to one of their kitchen chairs. I have to watch as she parts her legs and plays with herself, one hand massaging her own breasts, the other rubbing her clit in small, circular motions. She taunts me, asking what I want to see her do, knowing and enjoying the fact that she's gagged me and I can't respond.

She calls in Alex, who kisses her lips, neck, breasts and soft belly as her fingers continue their hypnotic, rhythmic motion. The chastity cage holds strong, although I've filled it out pretty completely and I feel that "butterfly" sensation in my stomach so completely that I worry I might be sick. I'm literally torn between wanting to burst Hulk-like from the chair and go run to find some bolt cutters so I can enter Vanessa myself and a still-greater desire to enjoy the suffering caused by the whim of my beautiful stranger.

I remain motionless as Alex licks at her inner thighs and around her wet pussy, toying with her using the small metal piercing on his tongue.

"Show him, baby," breathes Vanessa to her partner. "Show our prisoner what you're going to fuck me with."

Alex presents me with his rigid cock, passing his new green jewelry barely a foot from my face.

"Aww, he's hungry for it," Alex giggles. "Can I feed him before I enter you, mistress?"

"If you must. Tell him to get you nice and wet for me."

Alex inches up so he's by the chair and stands on his tiptoes so that when he rips out my gag I can crane my head down and eagerly take him in my mouth.

"You heard her. Make it nice and wet," he instructs. "Give it a good slobber like the little bitch you are."

I drool all over that pretty white cock and spread it around with my tongue, struggling to get it into my mouth when he's too far away. At Vanessa's urging, Alex puts one foot on the seat of the chair between my legs and thrusts into me, allowing my to deepthroat him to a chorus of the couple's synchronized moans of satisfaction.

"Now, baby," Vanessa screams. "You're mine, now."

Alex tears away from me, neglecting to restore the gag in his haste to join his lover, leaving me panting and whining in frustration at my inability to join them. He takes her from the rear in a modified wheelbarrow, her legs spread on either side of him so he can hold her hips firmly and stay firmly inside of her.

"Oooh," she shrieks as each pump causes her dangling breasts to jiggle. "Ooooh, ooooh, oooh. Oh! Fuck! Ooh, baby, stop."

He pulls out and flips her over onto her back; she wraps her legs around her waist and lets him pull her close so their chests touch and they can kiss passionately again as she murmurs her desires breathily between each interlocking of their lips.

"Wetter . . . Slicker . . . I want to be covered . . . the good stuff . . . let our little boy see himself in the candlelight on my ass."

"Oh, fuck yeah," agrees Alex and rests her back down while he disappears momentarily to get something. During his absence, Vanessa focuses her attention on me, turning around to show me the powerful curves of her gorgeous, generously-sized ass.

"I know where you boys like to go to play," she coos, her hips swaying back and forth, entrancing me. "I know, and I like it because it means I now have two dirty little boys that I can play with myself whenever I want. And it means I've got the best ass in town, because it keeps pulling my little guy back in."

When Alex rushes back, it's with a tall bottle of a clear oil that he squirts all over Vanessa's back, ass, and thighs, working it in with his palms and rubbing his hard cock against her without attempting entry so that they're both quickly coated in the stuff. It's obviously a really effective and durable lube, because when he starts giving her anal he slides in almost effortlessly and starts pumping at an incredible speed.

The sight and the sound of their lovemaking would have been erotic enough, but I'm most enamored by how effortlessly their bodies communicate need to each other. There's no surgical augmentation or brutal canine quasi-rape; there are no barked commands but there's also not the lifeless, quiet slapping of the routine. A lesser couple might slip up and become a jumbled mess or struggle to maintain such a pace with the abundance of warm oil everywhere, but they work together to keep pushing forward. I am treated to the particularly delightful sight of Alex's tensed ass cheeks trembling each time he crashes into her; I am thrilled by Vanessa's building wails of delight intermingling with Alex's terse grunts and murmurs of "yeah," "fuck," and "just like that, baby."

But most brutal is that they seem to finish too quickly for me to fully enjoy myself, and they snuggle up together leaving me in the chair. I'm left out of the beautiful tangle of post-coital bodies that I long to be a part of, leaving me to moan and thrash in my chair.

Fuck! I was so incredibly horny. Hasan better be a fucking wizard, or I'll have been robbed of what could've been another blissful threesome.

And yet . . . Fuck! I was still feeling those butterflies in my stomach, that thrill of anticipation and promise that meant I would be ready to go as soon as this cage was removed. Even if Hasan ditched me, at the end of these three days I was going to be ready to fuck anything that moved. I fell asleep in the chair and had a strange dream I was fucking Claudia with all of her piercings and her pink sports bra, but with the Viking guy's tattoos and Vanessa's oiled-up ass. In my dream, I ejaculated in a continuous powerful stream, like I was out pissing on the lawn, and Claudia and Alex took turns catching it in their mouths and eagerly gulping down my cum. It was one of the rawest, most purely pleasurable dreams I've ever had, but when I woke up I had forgotten it almost entirely.

9: A Cockslut and a Feast

Most of the next day was pretty uneventful. Alex and I mowed the lawns of some of the neighbors, which meant more time playing outside with our shirts off. Some good-looking cougars across the street conveniently chose while we were working to sit out on their porches and drink iced tea from tall glasses -- one even invited me over for a sip and giggled when I took a long slurp with her straw and gave her a peck on the cheek. After a few hours laying around on the couch and meeting Vanessa for an early dinner, we took turns showering and donned our trench coats to head off to the Den.

"We'll have to ask Herr K if you can keep the cage on while you work," mused Alex. "But I bet he'll be okay with it, especially if Hasan is a frequent client and Herr K thinks this will make him happy."

I agreed, although I was getting terrifically antsy thinking about going about the prospect of three hours of intermittent anal without the ability to cum myself. If it was like last time, I might be fine, but what if there was another guy like Hasan?

What if James is there? What if Claudia or someone tells him and he shows up?

My balls ache at the thought of James fucking me against my will on the cold, stone floor. That couldn't happen. I couldn't let that happen.

It ended up working out, though, because when we approached Herr Kruger's booth he was deep in conversation with a slender, older gentleman with a greying goatee who leaned on a jeweled cane. He wore a lot of white makeup and a dark suit with an ash-colored cravat.

"Ah, look, it's two of my finest boys!" beamed Herr Kruger, as if I had been working for him for years and not one night before today. "Would either of them fit your needs for this evening?"

The older man eyed us critically. "Possibly. I will need to see them without their wrappers."

Herr Kruger gestured for us to be quiet and remove our coats, which we did obediently, holding our arms at our sides and letting him walk around and inspect us. The man's delicate, spider-like hands trace the shape of each of my buttocks, and he inspects my chastity device with interest.

"This one will do, provided he comes with the cage and is capable of being quiet and totally obedient," announced the gentleman. "What is he called?"

I can tell that Herr Kruger almost says "Champion," but stops himself as he takes proper notice of my now-smooth, pale, and hairless body. He glances at my hair, which is now very short and so platinum blond it is almost white, and I can see him calculating what kind of answer will please this man.

"This is Angel," he boasts confidently, as if that had been my name my whole life. "He's a shy little fellow, but perfectly behaved and very eager to please. Strong, too, and able to hold positions for impressive time."

"He will do. I want him fitted with one of my harnesses and in the banquet hall promptly at seven. I'll make arrangements to pay the full rate."

He turned to me.

"Angel, you must do everything one of my guests instructs you to tonight, but you may not speak or remove your little cage. I also want you to only answer when I or one of my guests calls you 'Cockslut.' Nod if you understand and agree."

I nodded, and he murmured his approval to Herr Kruger, rapping his cane on the counter before disappearing in the direction of one of the back rooms.

"Very good, boy, very good," crowed Herr Kruger, clapping me on the back. "This is your chance to make up for falling down on the job last time! You'll get time and a half for doing everything the nice men say -- and with the special request that was made for you for this Friday, you'll be making quite a killing on your first week out. Very, very good."

"Wait -- special request?" I asked. "What special request?"

Was he talking about Hasan?

But Herr Kruger ignored me, bustling back behind the counter into his little booth to fetch a simple English bulldog-style harness with straps that fit over my shoulders and under each armpit, as well as a simple red collar that clearly identified me as SLUT in large block letters.

"Go to work, Snowball," he said dismissively. "I'm taking your friend to the special banquet room."

Ignoring my question, he pushed me through the door with the snarling dog marked Achtung! and through the communal showers into a side room that I hadn't noticed before. There was a little hallway with a back door that led to an outside parking lot and a couple of medium-sized conference rooms like you might see at a hotel.

How big is this place? I thought. I realized I had only ever seen The Den of the Best from the front entrance and really had never walked all of the way around or gotten a proper sense of its size. I had just assumed it was a seedy little dive, but for all I knew Herr Kruger was the master of a vast labyrinth of delights.

This room had a familiar stone floor, but this was covering by an immense red and gold Persian rug with intricate flowers and whorls of black and cream. The walls were covered in tapestries that continued the same color scheme and depicted a mix of rampant hounds and medieval warriors with swords and lances. Six wrought iron candelabras lit the room from its periphery. The effect wasn't quite so extreme that I forgot I was in a present-day brothel, but it was easy to imagine I was somewhere in Europe several centuries ago.