You Will Obey (Gay BDSM Erotica)
Page 4
“Come on, let’s coat the little fucker,” one of them growled, to laughs of approval from the rest. Immediately, they began jerking off over him, some of them spitting across his back, happy to defile the powerless slut before them. Rick chuckled again, slowly massaging a dollop of lube over Michael’s defenseless asshole.
I’m about to get fucked… Michael realized, his tongue still teasing Scott’s ass… by Rick Motherfucking Pender.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
Rick wasn’t shy, quickly working the tip of his cock against Michael’s ass and bucking forward, letting Michael’s inner muscles pull him in deep, slowly enveloping him. Michael gave a muffled grunt as Rick’s cock worked its way inside of him… It had been ages since he’d been fucked, and he was naturally tight…
But none of that mattered. There would be no mercy, no safewords, no limits. Michael had just one choice: obey.
“Yeah, fuck that butt,” one of the Doms muttered as Rick bit his lip and began working his cock in and out of Michael’s ass, gripping the sides of his ass for leverage.
“Show this slave how much you appreciate him, fuckslut,” Rick commanded. Scott quickly turned around, lowering to his knees in front of Michael and holding his face, gently kissing him, sliding his tongue into Michael’s breathless mouth. Ironically, it was even more invasive for Michael than getting fucked was. Sure, he had sucked cock and even bottomed before, but he had always drawn the line at kissing. Something about it just felt too… intimate, too sensual, too personal. Maybe it was because he was married, maybe it was because he didn’t consider himself gay, but the very thought of kissing another man, for one reason or another, always repelled him.
And yet here he was, his lips pressed over Scott’s mouth, their tongues sliding back and forth, a playful, tender exploration between two slaves. Michael could feel Scott gasping into his mouth, the two of them sharing the masculine flavor of his ass…
…And his dick had never been so rock hard.
Rick smiled, watching the two of them as he bucked his cock in and out of Michael’s willing ass. “I think he likes you, fuckslut,” he muttered, punctuating his words with a few extra firm thrusts, basking in the sound of Michael’s moans reverberating in Scott’s mouth.
Michael did like him – he liked all of it, he realized. The powerlessness, the degradation, the painful pleasure of his ass being worked over… he was actually developing an appetite for all of it, far more so than he had ever experienced before. The thought frightened him, and he found himself thinking back to his captor, forcing him into this position. Whoever he was, whatever his endgame was, he was successfully rewiring Michael’s mind, re-shaping him into a perfect, submissive slut, pushing him deep into waters he had only dangled his legs in before now. Michael felt as if he were sinking into those waters, his mind submerging into submission, the carnal need to obey flooding every ounce of his being. It was becoming a part of him, his identity, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Resistance was futile.
He would obey.
And still, as frightening and overwhelming as thoughts like these were, they did nothing to diminish the intensity of the moment. Michael’s cock stayed firmly erect, and he continued passionately kissing Scott, continued taking Rick’s cock deeper and deeper up his ass, grunting happily with every thrust, bucking his hips back, his body demanding more, as much as it could get.
He heard one of the Doms begin to moan with delight, and felt the first hot splash of cum land across his back, then another, the manly fluid coating him in spurt after spurt. The very sight of it was infectious, as soon, two other Doms were cumming almost simultaneously, unloading their seed onto Michael’s body, leaving him moaning with delight as it trickled across his spine and down along his ribs.
“Filthy little cum slut,” Rick muttered, giving Michael a hard slap on the ass.
One of the Doms, a tall, beefy skinhead in a leather vest, turned his attentions toward Scott, eyeing the gorgeous young slave.
“Does your boy get thirsty?” he asked, looking to Rick for approval.
“Of course he does,” Rick answered, smiling. “Don’t you fuckslut?”
Scott looked up from kissing Michael to nod at his master. “Yes, sir,” he said, without a trace of hesitation or timidity.
Rick turned back to the Dom, giving him a nod. Grinning, the Dom stepped over to Scott, standing before him and looking down at him with sadistic eyes.
“Open wide, slut,” he growled, before unleashing a hot torrent of piss directly at the boy’s face.
The crowd murmured with appreciation at the raunchy sight as Scott obediently let the golden liquid fill his mouth, swallowing regularly like a well-practiced slave to avoid any runoff. Michael watched with wide eyes – never in a million years would he have suspected a clean-cut kid like Scott of being such a dirty, submissive slut. The juxtaposition of the Scott he knew from work and the Scott he saw in front of him seemed completely at odds, as if he were witnessing the young man’s secret identity. And even though he had always recoiled in disgust from the thought of watersports, the sight of Scott eagerly drinking the man’s piss turned Michael on like nothing else. It was one of the lowest, basest forms of submission Michael could think of, and he felt an odd, aroused sense of admiration for it.
“Quit swallowing, kid,” the Dom ordered as he approached the end of his stream. “I want you to save some for your friend there.”
Michael’s eyes widened even further as he watched the Dom finish, leaving Scott with a warm mouthful of piss that dribbled out down his chin. Scott turned to face Michael, his cheeks bulging, leaning in close over him, and Michael couldn’t help but whimper softly with fear...
But Scott was undeterred, quickly pulling Michael’s head in tight against his. And to Michael’s astonishment, despite every instinct screaming in his brain to resist, he found his lips parting as their mouths came together, the piss beginning to flow from Scott’s mouth into his, washing over his tongue and tastebuds. He winced, struggling to gulp it down fast enough, the bitter taste filling his throat and nostrils, degrading him beyond self-recognition. Whoever this was strapped to this table, gulping down a stranger’s piss and getting fucked by Rick Pender – it wasn’t Michael Baines. This was someone new, someone forced out of the darkness and into the light, someone unleashed.
Michael had become the slave he had always wanted to be. Apparently, this was what people meant when they said, “be careful what you wish for…”
As Michael swallowed the last of the piss, with Scott delicately licking a few stray droplets off of his chin, Rick grinned and gave Michael another hard slap on the ass.
“Good little piss slave we’ve got here,” he muttered, still working his cock in and out of Michael’s receptive ass. “Now let’s see him make me cum…”
Michael groaned with anticipation at the sound of the words, bucking his hips back against Rick, fully burying the man’s long, curved cock up his ass, whining with pleasure as it filled him. Rick picked up speed, digging his fingers into Michael’s hips, gripping him for leverage as he thrust back and forth, in and out, mercilessly jackhammering away at his ass.
Michael moaned loudly, the intensity overwhelming him, and Scott quickly leaned back in, kissing him deeply and capturing his moans within his own mouth, muffling them. Behind them, Rick began grunting with exertion, each thrust bringing him nearer and nearer to an explosive finish…
Then, one last gasping grunt, Rick pulled out, quickly wrapping his fingers around his cock and aiming it over Michael’s body, sending spurt after spurt of hot cum across his already saturated back, some of it trickling neatly down his spine, rolling in between his cheeks, dripping down over his battered hole.
“Come here, fuckslut,” Rick muttered, still catching his breath. “Clean that ass up.”
“Yes Sir,” Scott said, pulling away from Michael and crawling behind him, obediently buying his face in between his ass cheeks, his tongue q
“Hmmm,” Rick purred, enjoying the sight. “Too bad it’s a school night – otherwise I’d say we should take this one home…”
Michael was amazed to find himself wishing that such a night were somehow possible. Rick was a man he didn’t even personally like, and Rick still had no idea that it was Michael tied down in front of him. But all the same, after submitting to him tonight, despite the fact that it was more or less against his will – Michael wanted him. He wanted more.
It was a slippery slope that he had been pushed onto, and Michael could feel himself sliding hopelessly into the abyss.
Rick pulled his pants back up, then pulled Scott away by the scruff of his neck, relocking the leash to his collar, and then gave Michael’s ass one last spank before uncuffing his ankles and wrists.
“Here you go, slut,” he whispered, leaning in over Michael and sliding a card in between his teeth. “If you’re ever hungry for more… you give me a call…”
And with that, Rick walked off into the crowd, a leashed Scott close in tow, completely unaware that he had just fucked his workplace frienemy. Michael could still hardly comprehend it, looking over Rick’s business card with disbelief.
Guess I’m not the only one who knows how to keep up appearances, he finally thought to himself, pulling his sore, exhausted, degraded body up from the spanking bench and looking around the club, wondering what the hell to do now. He had been there for over an hour now, with no sign of the mysterious captor, no messages, no photographs… just pure submission, with Michael trapped inside of a leather hood.
He began to grow panicky, making his way back toward the front of the club, back to the bathroom, hoping at very least to wash the cum off of his back. He could only imagine what Maggie must be thinking by now… he winced at the thought, struggling to put it out of his mind.
Aside from a gruff looking biker who was on his way out as Michael came in, the bathroom was empty again, and Michael was happy for the brief privacy as he made his way to the sink and grabbed a paper towel, wetting it and wiping it over his lower back, looking at his unrecognizable face in the mirror…
He froze, noticing something in the reflection… the wall of lockers behind him – was that something sticking out of the vent of his locker?
Michael quickly spun around, grabbing the note that had been left for him and opening it.
“YOU WILL OBEY. GO OUTSIDE TO FIND YOUR KEY.”
Michael sighed, hating the thought of venturing outside of the club with the hood still over his head. But at least he could put his clothes on, and at least he was closer to finding the key. With any luck, this nightmare of a day would finally be over soon…
He pulled on his clothes, feeling somewhat ridiculous dressed in his white collar attire and a black leather hood. But just as he had told himself so many times throughout the day – what choice did he have? He took a breath, then left the bathroom and made his way out into the lobby, past an eye-rolling Janet and out the front door.
And then he stopped dead in his tracks.
There, in the parking lot, not thirty feet in front of him, he saw his wife’s car, Roberta sitting wide-eyed in the passenger’s seat. And pacing nervously in front of it... there was Maggie.
She looked up at him from across the lot, both of them deer in the headlights. Her face scrunched into a horrified look of shock as she realized who she was looking at.
“…Michael?” She cried out, confused, terrified tears welling in her eyes.
Michael stood there for a few moments, frozen. Then, just as he opened his mouth to say something, the door opened behind him, bumping into him.
It was Rick and Scott.
You couldn’t see it beneath the hood, but the color drained from Michael’s face as they exited, the two of them grinning at him.
“Had a fun time with that sweet ass of yours tonight, slut,” Rick cooed, making eyes at a mortified Michael and grabbing at his crotch. “You be sure and come back for more, all right?”
And as if things couldn’t be any worse, Rick leaned in, planting a soft kiss over Michael’s mouth. Michael, stunned and defenseless, could only stand there and take it, until Rick finally moved on, leaving Michael to turn back to his wife.
“…Maggie…” he started to say.
But he stopped short as her teary face grew angry, and she held up a Polaroid for him to see.
“This is for you,” she spit out, before tossing it on the ground and quickly storming off down the sidewalk.
“Maggie, wait!” Michael yelled, finally rushing forward. “Please, let me explain…”
She turned, glaring at him with cold, betrayed eyes. “Don’t you dare follow me,” she said, before turning back around and making her way to the sidewalk, walking off into the night, desperate to be anywhere but there.
“Maggie, please – where are you going?”
But it was too late. She was gone.
**********
Chapter Six
The night was silent and empty. Michael felt as if he’d just lost everything.
He looked sheepishly at Roberta, still sitting in the car, her face far less horrified than he would have expected. Sighing and on the verge of tears, he bent down to pick up the Polaroid Maggie had thrown to the ground, wincing as he examined it, imagining Maggie’s face upon seeing it.
It was a picture of Michael tied to the chair, all-too-eagerly sucking his tormentor’s cock. Taped to the back, Michael found the missing key to his hood, along with the scribbled address of the Grotto, as well as some instructions:
“GO HERE NOW. WAIT FOR MICHAEL OUTSIDE. GIVE HIM THE KEY.”
“She wanted to call the police,” Roberta said, exiting the car and watching Michael as he unlocked the hood and pulled it off of his head. “But I convinced her to come. Now I’m not so sure that was wise.”
“Look, Roberta,” Michael said, not sure of where to start. “I… I can explain all of this…”
Roberta just scoffed, shaking her head. “I’m sure you can…”
“Please,” Michael said, exasperated, “just get back in the car. I have to find Maggie, make her understand…”
“I’m not sure I want to go anywhere with you,” she replied coldly.
“Well, your daughter just stormed off into the night,” Michael said angrily, his fists clenched in frustration. “I’m going to go and find her before something happens to her. If you want to stay here in the parking lot of a sex club, please, be my guest.”
Roberta crossed her arms for a moment, seeming to consider this, then took her place in the car, watching Michael carefully as he sat down beside her and started the car.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “She won’t get far.”
“You and I both know that Maggie can be a very determined woman.”
“Yes, and you never should have cheated on her,” she said. “A woman deserves to know if her husband is feeling unfulfilled…”
“I wasn’t at that place by choice,” Michael said, scanning the sidewalks as he drove, looking for any sign of his wife. “Someone’s been blackmailing me. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through…”
Roberta snorted. “I saw that photograph, Michael, so I think I have a perfect understanding of what you’ve been through.”
“I told, you, I was blackmailed…”
“Yes? And what have they been blackmailing you with, Michael? What could you possibly be so desperate to keep secret?”
Michael was silent. The woman was smarter than he had given her credit for.
“I thought as much,” she finally said. “You’re no better than Edgar was.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your father-in-law was a kind man,” Roberta said through a sigh, “generous and loving until the very day that he died. But he had his share of secrets. We all do.”
“What secrets?”
“Certain… cravings,” Roberta said. “He went behind my back to satisfy them. I caught him, and we… dealt with it together. It’s my hope that you and my daughter can do the same.”
Again, Michael was silent, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, his mind swimming with shame. He could only hope that Roberta was right…
ERRP ERRP!
The jarring sound of a siren kicking on, followed by the flash of red and blue lights jolted Michael to attention. His eyes, dilating with the sudden instantaneous kick of adrenaline, raised to the rear-view mirror, where he found a police cruiser behind them, signaling for them to pull over.
“What the…” Michael wondered, quickly double-checking to make sure he hadn’t been speeding. If anything, he had been driving well under the speed limit, looking for Maggie, and he hadn’t been driving erratically…
Then it hit him.
“Oh God,” Michael muttered as he pulled over, watching as the cruiser slowly passed him, turning in front of him into a dark alleyway between two quiet industrial buildings. The lights flashed off, and Michael heard the door open and close. He swallowed, his throat dry, as the officer came into sight, walking towards them. Those same dark aviator sunglasses… that same steely jaw…
It was him.
“That’s the man who sent the photos…” Michael whispered. “That’s… that’s him.”
“That’s him?” Roberta asked, watching him draw near. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”
Michael swallowed again, then turned to her. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve played his games – now we’re going to talk.”
The cop came to the window. Michael rolled it down.
“Step out of the car, please,” the man calmly said.
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