A few minutes later, he returned, a towel slung over his shoulder and a fresh tube of Vaseline in his hands. His expression was different now—not as smug but still radiating control.
He released my straps, and I moved slowly, feeling the ache in my muscles from the position I had been kept in as I lost my virginity to James.
“Up you go,” he said, snapping his fingers as if I were some kind of obedient pet. I hesitated, my muscles protesting as I pushed myself up onto my knees.
James smirked. “Good boy. You’re learning.”
He placed the towel on the ottoman and gestured for me to kneel on it. I complied silently, too exhausted to argue. The soft fabric provided some relief, but it was little consolation for what I knew was coming next.
“This time, we’re going to try something different,” James said, circling me like a predator stalking its prey. He crouched behind me, his hands spreading my cheeks as he inspected and inserted his chubby fingers into me. “Still tight, even after that. Impressive.”
He applied more lube, and a second finger working me open again, but this time it felt different—less invasive, almost methodical. He was taking his time, stretching me carefully as if he were preparing me for something bigger.
“You’re going to love this,” he said, his voice low and almost soothing. “Just trust me.”
Trust. The word felt hollow, but I didn’t have the strength to resist. My body betrayed me again, responding to his touch in ways I didn’t understand. My cock twitched slightly against the towel, though I willed it not to.
“See? I told you,” James said, noticing my reaction. “Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet.”
I closed my eyes, trying to block out his words, but they lingered, echoing in my head as he continued to work me over.
“Okay, let’s go to the next room,” James said, his hand tightening around the collar as he tugged. “Crawl,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Humiliation flared hot in my cheeks as I dropped to my hands and knees, the leather straps around my body digging into my skin with each movement. The sound of my crawling echoed in the quiet hallway, a stark reminder of the power imbalance between us. My stomach churned with shame, but I kept moving. I’d agreed to this, I reminded myself. For the money.
The room he led me to was darker than the last, illuminated only by the faint glow of blacklight. My eyes adjusted slowly, revealing the outlines of what looked like a metal swing suspended by four large bolted beams. Metal rings and leather straps hung from it, the blacklight highlighting their reflective edges. The sight of it sent a wave of unease through me.
“Here, you’ll need this,” James said, pulling out a large eye mask from a nearby shelf. It was thick and sturdy, the exterior made of leather, with the inside lined in soft black fabric. He held it up like a trophy, his smirk widening as he approached me.
“Stand so I can put it on you,” he commanded. My legs felt weak as I pushed myself up, the straps around my chest pulling uncomfortably. I obeyed without a word.
The mask slipped over my face, its soft interior molding to my skin as James adjusted it. The world around me disappeared into blackness, and my other senses seemed to heighten in response—the faint hum of the blacklight, the sound of James’s breathing, the metallic tang of the room’s air.
“This way,” James chuckled, his voice mocking and laced with amusement. “As you’re getting fucked, you can imagine anything you want.”
I swallowed hard, the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck. The mask was supposed to block out the reality of the situation, but it only made me feel more exposed—like a thing, an object for his pleasure.
I was guided onto the sling, the cold metal pressing against my skin as James began securing me in place. The straps wrapped tightly around my wrists and ankles, pulling my arms and legs into position above me. My legs were spread wide, exposing me completely, while my waist was strapped down firmly, holding me in place. I wasn’t going anywhere.
The straps framed my body, leaving me vulnerable, my every movement dictated by the constraints. The only thing I could move was my head, but with no support beneath it, my neck strained, and I let it hang, the tension in my muscles giving way to gravity.
The room was quiet except for the faint creak of the sling as I shifted slightly, testing the restraints. Then, the sound of James snapping something open cut through the silence. It sent a shiver down my spine, the anticipation settling heavily in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t see him through the mask, but I could feel him moving around me, his presence dominating the space. Each snap, each subtle noise he made, seemed calculated, teasing at the edges of my nerves.
“You look incredible,” James finally said, his voice filled with satisfaction as if admiring a masterpiece he’d just completed.
Let’s me ge6 some pics, and he moved around me capturing every angle of my domination “smile slut” he smiled as he came in with the camera from crotch to my face.
“Adam, I’m so happy you decided to sell your ass for money. I’m having the time of my life,” James said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his footsteps grew closer to my hanging head. I could feel the vibrations of his movements through the floor, each step a reminder of how close he was. “Now open up so I can stretch that pretty mouth,” he continued, his tone joyful and commanding.
“No!” I yelled, my voice cracking with desperation. “We agreed—just my ass!” Panic surged through me. What the hell? I wasn’t going to suck cock. James had already taken something I never thought I’d lose. This was crossing a line I hadn’t prepared myself for.
There was a pause, the silence heavy and suffocating. Then, James’s voice broke it with an unsettling calmness. “You are right, Adam,” he said, as though conceding. “I just figured the more turned on and stimulated I am, the faster I cum, and you won’t have to take as much.” His words were matter-of-fact, delivered with a detached certainty that made my stomach churn.
Shit. He was right, wasn’t he? The thought clawed at my mind. Getting fucked was painful—brutal, even—and if this could make it end faster, maybe it was the lesser evil. For an old guy, James had way too much stamina. The ache in my body was proof of that.
“Okay,” I finally said, the word leaving my lips with reluctant acceptance as I felt the swollen head of his cock pressing against my still-sensitive hole. “I’ll do it.” Was this another mistake? Probably. But if giving him a blow job could save me from more hours of agony, it was a compromise I had to make.
“Perfect,” James said, his tone triumphant. His movements became sharper, more deliberate. I could feel his presence looming over me, his breath hot against my cheek as he moved closer to my head.
“Such a good boy deserves a reward” James placed a wireless ear bud in each ear and clicked on something a second later I was listening to porn, wild, aggressive, rough fucking. Making my cock twitch.
I barely had a chance to process what I was listening to when, I felt the weight of his cock resting against my lips. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he said, his voice taking on a commanding edge yet clear enough for me to hear over the sounds of raw sexual sounds blasting in my ears.
I hesitated for a heartbeat, my breath shallow and uneven. Then, slowly, I parted my lips. The warmth and thickness of him were immediate, overwhelming. As he pushed forward, the sheer size of him filled my mouth, stretching it wider than I thought possible.
“MMMMMmmmmmm,” I grunted, my body instinctively recoiling as James slid all eight inches into my mouth. His musk invaded my senses—earthy, salty, and undeniable. My body shook violently, trying to reject the intrusion, but James held me steady, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Relax, Adam,” he said, his voice almost soothing, though the edge of command remained. “Let your tongue work. You’ll get the hang of it.”
I coughed and gagged, the wet sounds filling the room as I tried to adjust to the sheer presence of him in my mouth. My jaw ached from the strain, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but James didn’t let up. He held me there, letting me struggle, letting me feel the full weight of his dominance.
“Good boy,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He began to move, shallow thrusts that sent his cock sliding against my tongue. The slickness of precum coated my mouth, the taste bitter and salty as it spread over my tongue.
Every noise I made—every gag, every muffled grunt—seemed to spur him on. “That’s it, Adam,” he groaned, his pace quickening slightly. “You’re doing so well. See? You’re a natural at this.”
My mind raced with conflicting thoughts—anger, shame, resignation—all swirling together as I struggled to keep up with his rhythm.
After a few strokes, James’s hands tightened around my head, his grip firm and unrelenting. Without warning, he thrust forward, slamming his cock deep, past my lips, past my tongue, and into the back of my throat. The sudden invasion was overwhelming—an assault on every sense.
The musk of his body was intense and primal, a mixture of sweat and lust that clung to my nostrils and filled my lungs with every gasping breath I managed to take. His skin was warm, almost feverish, as his balls slapped against my face with each forceful thrust, their weight and rhythm making my cheeks sting. The wet, slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth mixed with the moans and grunts of the porn blaring in my ears—a cacophony of flesh, dominance, and debasement that drowned out my thoughts.
“Relax,” he growled, his voice both commanding and impatient. His hand found its way to my cock and balls, gripping them with a possessive intensity that made my stomach clench. With his other hand, he pinched my nipple, the sharp sting followed by a sudden release in a maddening rhythm that sent jolts of sensation coursing through me.
The heat in the room was suffocating, my skin damp with sweat as my body trembled under his control. The stimulation was overwhelming—his grip on my cock and balls was tight, almost too tight, but it was his relentless attention to my nipples that sent shivers down my spine. Each pinch and release seemed to draw a response from me that I didn’t understand or want to admit.
I didn’t know what it was—the pounding rhythm of the porn in my ears, the sharp contrast of pain and pressure on my nipples, or the suffocating fullness in my throat—but I felt it. A twitch. A pulse. My cock stirred, twitching against his hand as if betraying me.
“Yeah!” James roared, his voice rising above the moans and groans echoing in my headphones. His hands moved with purpose, pulling at my balls in a way that was both painful and electrifying, while his other hand jerked my growing cock with steady, deliberate strokes.
“MMMMMmmmmmm”, my voice muffled and desperate, but the vibrations of my protests only seemed to spur him on. His thrusts became harder, deeper, more relentless.
Then it happened. Against my will, against everything I thought I knew about myself, my cock surged to life. It wasn’t just hard—it was aching, throbbing, harder than it had ever been. The sensation was maddening, a cruel blend of arousal and humiliation that made my breath hitch and my body tense.
“You’re loving it!” James roared, his tone triumphant, as if he had conquered me in some twisted battle of wills. He released my cock, his hands sliding under my head, cradling it like a trophy as he pulled me closer, burying his cock even deeper into my throat.
“Ggrrrrraaahhh,” I grunted, choking and gagging around him. My throat burned, my jaw ached, and tears streamed down my face as James yelled at me, “wait until you're begging for it Adam” his voice filled with a mix of dominance and ecstasy.
Every sensation was amplified in the darkness—the taste of salt and musk on my tongue, the relentless pounding echoing in my ears, and the suffocating fullness that made it impossible to think of anything but his control over me.
In that moment, I was his—utterly, helplessly his. And the shame of it burned hotter than anything I had ever felt.
“That’s right, pussy boy, you love getting face-fucked,” James sneered, his voice dripping with triumph. “Look at that cock—hard as a fucking rock, Adam,” he exclaimed, his tone a twisted mix of joy and mockery. The obscenities poured from his mouth like a flood, drowning me in shame as he drove himself deeper into me. “Yes, pussy boy, swallow it all.”
He sunk his cock in and held it there, the fullness stretching my throat to its limit. My body trembled uncontrollably, my limbs straining weakly against their bindings. I was shaking, my head hanging, feeling like I was on the brink of passing out.
James didn’t move. Instead, his hands found their way to my cock. His grip was firm, almost punishing, as he began to jerk me off. The sensation was a confusing mix of discomfort and stimulation, my body reacting in ways I couldn’t control.
The fight-or-flight instinct screamed in my mind, my chest tightening with panic. Yet, there was nowhere to go, nothing I could do but endure. I couldn’t reconcile it—the overwhelming pressure in my throat, the relentless stimulation, the primal, unbearable mix of pain and arousal that coursed through me like fire.
How is this happening? I thought, my mind a whirlwind of disbelief. How am I so hard? How am I feeling… this? My cock throbbed in his hand, a traitorous response that made my stomach churn with shame.
I was gasping, desperately pulling air into my burning lungs as James finally pulled out, leaving me to collapse in on myself. My eye mask was soaked with tears, and saliva dripped from my open mouth, pooling beneath me. I took three ragged breaths, each one a battle, each one tainted with the bitter taste of him still lingering in my throat.
“Take it bitch,” he yelled, and before I could even process his words, he was back. He gripped my head, holding me steady as he began to skull-fuck me, his cock driving relentlessly in and out, faster and deeper with each thrust.
I was lightheaded from the skullfucking I was getting. James never bothered to check on me, he was interested in his own pleasure.
My tongue, my mouth, my throat—they weren’t mine anymore. They were his, to use, to control, to dominate. My body shuddered violently, my muscles spasming with each thrust.
James’s hands moved to my cock and balls, grabbing them both with a tightness that made me gasp around him. The pressure was unbearable, pain and stimulation blurring into a single, unbearable sensation. “You’re mine, Adam,” he growled, his voice low and commanding.
James’s grip tightened further, squeezing my cock and balls until I thought I might break. His dominance was total, his control complete, and I was powerless against it. The shame burned brighter with every moment, but so too did the shock of my own arousal. How could this be happening? How could I feel this way?
“Yeah, bitch. What’s this?” he sneered, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. I felt his finger slide over my slit, and there it was—a single, traitorous bead of precum.
My stomach twisted in revulsion, shame heating my face. How could I be reacting this way to him?
“I knew it,” James said, his voice triumphant, like he’d won some unspoken wager. “I fucking knew it, Adam. From the moment I saw you.” His words stung, each one driving deeper into my crumbling defenses.
He rubbed the precum across my sensitive cock, the slickness igniting sparks of sensation I couldn’t ignore. I grunted in pain as he yanked at my balls, a sharp reminder of his control over me.
“Yes, fuck me. Fuck me,” a voice moaned in my headphones, pulling me further into a spiral of confusion and disgust. The sounds were vivid, overwhelming—the slapping of skin, the desperate gasps, the depraved words whispered like poison in my ears.
“What do you want, boy?” another voice growled, its tone dripping with authority.
“Make me a slut,” came the answer, breathless and eager.
My mind reeled, recoiling from the filthy words, but the voices wouldn’t stop. “You want daddy to fuck his boy?” one voice coaxed, its question hanging heavy in the air. “Yes, daddy, yes,” the other responded, its tone so filled with submission it made my skin crawl.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out, to separate myself from the nightmare unfolding around me. I’m not gay, I told myself, the mantra repeating over and over in my mind. I’m not gay. I’m not.
The words echoed in my head, hollow and desperate, as though saying them enough could make them true. But the headphones cut into my thoughts, drowning me in the depraved dialogue.
“Turn me out, daddy. Turn me out,” the voice in the headphones begged, the raw need in its tone pulling at something deep inside me.
“No!” I grunted aloud, my voice hoarse and trembling. No. This wasn’t me. This couldn’t be me. But even as I denied it, I couldn’t ignore the treacherous heat pooling in my core, the unbearable tightness of my cock as my body betrayed me again and again.
The shame was suffocating, the humiliation cutting deeper with every passing second. My mind was a battlefield, my thoughts a cacophony of denial, anger, and despair.
“AAAAAaaaa,” I yelled, my voice raw with pain and frustration, as I felt James slip one of his fingers into my asshole. The intrusion was jarring, my body instinctively clenching against the unwelcome presence. He placed my legs under his arm, holding me in place with a firm grip that only added to the helplessness I felt.
His free hand wrapped around my cock, jerking me in a steady rhythm that was at odds with the discomfort radiating from behind. I squirmed, trying to fight the sensations, but my efforts were futile. My body was betraying me, responding in ways I didn’t understand.
I dropped my head, gasping for air now that James’s focus had shifted. Each breath was shaky, my mind racing to regain some semblance of control. But then his voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding.
“Face-fuck yourself, Adam, or you’re not getting shit,” he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. The words hit me like a slap, and shame burned through me as I realized what he was demanding.
Nervously, my mind screaming in protest, I pushed my head forward, my lips wrapping around his cock. I sucked hard and deep, the desperation for money overriding my humiliation. My movements were awkward and clumsy at first, but I couldn’t afford to stop. I couldn’t lose that money.
“Fuck yeah, boy. That’s how you suck a man’s cock,” James growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. His encouragement only deepened my shame, but I kept going, forcing myself to ignore the lump in my throat and the tears pooling behind the blindfold.
Just as I was starting to find a rhythm, James shifted again. His hand left my cock, and I flinched as he suddenly pushed two fingers into my ass. My body jerked from the unexpected invasion, a gasp slipping past my lips as I tried to adjust.
The stretch was uncomfortable but surprisingly not as painful as I’d feared. Then he curled his fingers inside me, pressing against a spot that sent an electric jolt up my spine. I froze, my entire body reacting to the unfamiliar sensation.
Shivers cascaded through me, my breath hitching as the line between pleasure and humiliation blurred. I clenched my fists, fighting against the betrayal of my own body.
“There it is,” James said, his voice low and almost triumphant. He worked his fingers in a deliberate rhythm, each movement making it harder for me to deny the feelings coursing through me.
I sucked harder, trying to drown out the sensations, but the combination of his touch and his words was relentless. My mind was a storm of confusion, anger, and reluctant arousal.
“I’m coming, Adam,” James hissed, his voice a mixture of pleasure and command. “Swallow it all, SLUT!”
I was drenched in sweat, my body trembling, when I felt it—a heat rising through me like fire, burning away any remaining resistance. Like a phoenix rising, only this time, it felt more like I was being consumed by the flames. Was I going to cum? I could not resist, it was coming on fast my balls pulled in tight, shit I thought.
“Slap, slap, SLAP!” The sting of James’s hand against my cock and balls tore a scream from my throat, the sharp pain leaving me flaccid and gasping. My mouth fell open wide in a desperate attempt to catch my breath, and James took his opportunity.
“Swalllloooooowwww!” he roared, his tone triumphant. “Swallow all of itttttttttt,” he grunted as his cock pulsed against my tongue. Three thick, hot shots of salty semen filled my mouth, the overwhelming taste making my stomach churn. I tried to resist, but my body betrayed me yet again, my throat instinctively contracting to gulp down the thick fluid. Just like that, I had lost my mouth virginity to James.
I wanted to gag, to spit, to refuse, but James’s hand kept my head firmly in place. He slid his cock deeper, forcing my jaw to stretch to its limit. I could feel every inch of him pressing against the back of my throat, my breath hitching as I struggled to adjust. The pressure was suffocating, and for a moment, I feared he might unhinge my jaw.
“Since you like piss play…” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. My heart sank, dread pooling in my stomach as I realized what was coming next.
Without warning, a warm stream hit the back of my throat, sharp and acrid. My instincts screamed at me to pull away, but James held me firmly in place. Swallow or choke? The choice wasn’t mine. I gulped reflexively, the hot liquid sliding down my throat in humiliating waves. Each swallow felt like a new defeat, a reminder of how far I had fallen.
James groaned above me, his grip tightening as he finished. “Good boy,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. The words hit me harder than the slaps had, each one driving home the reality of my situation.
I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t. But as I sat there, my mouth filled with the taste of his cum and piss, I couldn’t ignore the war raging inside me—the anger, the shame, and the treacherous flicker of something else.
James pulled out and removed the earphones from my head, the sudden absence of sound leaving a jarring silence that only amplified my heavy breathing. “You kinky fucker,” he said, his tone smug as he waved my cock like a wand, I was hard again, my cock pulsing faintly against my will.
He removed the eye mask, the sudden flood of light making me blink rapidly. My vision cleared to see him standing inches from my face, his cock still semi-hard, glistening. His belly loomed close, its warmth palpable even without contact, a stark reminder of his presence and control.
“You’re doing so fucking amazing, Adam,” he said with a smile that was almost warm—almost. “I’m giving you a bonus for this.” The grin widened as he added, “Now let’s get you cleaned up. We’ve got a few more hours to go.”
His words were casual, almost conversational, but the weight of their meaning settled on me like a crushing stone. A few more hours. My stomach churned.
I stayed quiet, swallowing thickly as the bitter taste of piss and cum lingered in my mouth, coating my tongue and throat like a reminder I couldn’t escape. I should have said no. I should have tried harder to find another job. I should have begged my boss for more hours. The thoughts screamed in my mind, each one stabbing deeper into my sense of self.
James began untying me, the straps loosening one by one until I was finally free. But freedom felt hollow. As I tried to stand, my legs betrayed me, buckling beneath me, sending me crashing to my knees. My muscles were stiff and unresponsive, aching from the positions I had been forced into. Kneeling felt natural now—too natural. The thought made my stomach twist.
“Crawl, boy,” James ordered, his hand gripping the collar around my neck. The tug was firm but not violent, just enough to make it clear I had no choice. I obeyed, I felt the cold floor against my palms and knees. He semi-dragged me across the room, his steps unhurried, as if savoring the moment.
He stopped at a door and opened it, gesturing for me to crawl inside. “Clean up, slut,” he said, the smile on his face almost mocking as he closed the door behind me with a soft click.
The bathroom was extravagant, far more luxurious than I’d expected. A large tub sat in the center, already filled with steaming water, a bath bomb dissolving in it and filling the air with a mix of jasmine and something else I couldn’t place. Toothpaste, mouthwash, and even a bottle of wine sat neatly on the counter. A folded note rested beside them, the words scrawled in bold letters: Thank you for your obedience.
In the shower corner, a large nozzle was mounted, clearly meant for cleaning myself out. Above it, a timer hung on the wall, oversized and mechanical, already ticking down from one hour.
I climbed into the tub, the hot water enveloping me instantly. It should have been soothing, but my skin still crawled. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the heat seep into my aching muscles. The jasmine scent was overwhelming, almost cloying, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
I massaged my thighs and shoulders, trying to work out the stiffness. My fingers brushed over the raw circles on my knees, dark and bruised, evidence of how long I’d been kept in submission. My nipples were red and tender to the touch, my cock and balls still sensitive from the slaps and rough handling.
I took the wine glass and slurped down my drink as I relaxed in the tub before filling another and drinking it.
At the 30-minute mark, the timer alarm went off, its shrill beeping breaking through the haze in my mind. It sounded three times before continuing its countdown. Reluctantly, I stepped out of the tub, water dripping from my body, and moved to the shower. Defeated. Violated and a little buzzed.
I carefully inserted the plug and was surprised at how little discomfort I felt sticking it up my ass. I turned on the nozzle, letting the warm stream clean me out. The sensation was strange, invasive but not painful. And then, to my horror, my cock stirred. It sprang to life as the water filled me, sending a shock of arousal through my body.
“Mmmmmmm” I groaned.
“What the fuck?” I muttered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water. My cock stood hard and proud, throbbing as my body reacted in ways I couldn’t control.
“Make me a slut,” the voice from earlier echoed in my mind. “Fuck me, daddy.” The words reverberated, relentless and invasive, like they had carved themselves into my brain. My hands shot up to my ears, as if that could block out the memory, but it was futile.
“Yes, yes, I’m a slut,” I growled in anger, the words spilling out like poison. My cock twitched again, traitorous and unrelenting, before finally deflating back to its flaccid state.
“This isn’t me,” I whispered, gripping the nozzle tightly as I finished cleaning myself out. The warm water swirl down the drain, taking with it the evidence of what had been done to me, but not the weight of it. “I’m not like this. I don’t want this.”
Yet even as I denied it, the phantom sensation lingered—the ghost of pleasure that refused to fade completely. It gnawed at me.
I turned off the water, the silence in the room almost deafening. My reflection in the fogged mirror was barely visible, but I avoided it anyway. I couldn’t bear to look at myself.
“This is almost over,” I told myself, clinging to the words like a lifeline. “Just a few more hours, and then never again. Never.”
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