Luke took a deep breath to settle his stomach and walked into the A mansion. He got no further time to calm his nerves as he was immediately met with a strong, somewhat annoyed voice.
"Are you Luke?"
The speaker was a tall, grizzly bear of a man. He was pushing into middle-aged and had an unshaven scruff on his face.
"Yes, sir," Luke answered obediently, though much more timidly then he'd attempted.
"You can leave your clothes here," the man said. He himself was wearing normal street clothes.
Luke began shedding his clothes letting them pile up on the floor. As his fingers wrapped around the band of his boxer-briefs, he looked at the still anonymous man for some confirmation, but he was staring out the window uninterested. Luke pulled off his underwear and tossed it with the rest of his clothes, then he stood, back straight and chest out, with his hands behind his back trying to be a much better sub than any he himself had had.
The man paid him no attention. He didn't even take a quick glance at Luke's genitals as he said, "Come on," and started walking out of the foyer and down a hall. The short hall had only three doors and the pushed through the one at the end. It was a small room, but two large, floor-to-ceiling windows filled it with a blinding light. When his eyes adjusted, Luke's heart leapt up into is throat. There were two things in the room, a sawhorse-like restraint and a huge fuck machine that looked like it was powerful enough to bore a train tunnel through a mountain. At the tip of this machine was a large dildo, which Luke estimated to be about ten inches, which drooped with the slightest flexibility.
The man said nothing. He simply stood next to the sawhorse and looked obligingly at Luke. Luke obeyed the unspoken command and walked over. As Luke bent over, his ass pointing uncomfortably at the machine, those questions welled back up inside him: the questions of whether or not he wanted to do this, and why he was just going along with it. Before he could seriously ponder these questions, his wrists and feet were strapped firmly to the legs of the sawhorse. Still without saying a word, the man walked behind him. Luke could hear him adjusting the machine. The second Luke registered the slight hum that filled the room, the large dildo was already pushing inside. It moved slowly, but with the relentless constancy of a machine. Every muscle in Luke's body tensed as the pain radiated through it. Back out and back in it went. Thinking back to the time he lost his virginity, he tried to relax, to let it in easy, but it was clearly too big for him.
Despite his wincing, he heard the door open and close. From his constrained position, he couldn't tell if the man had really left, but given the apathetic look that was on the man's face since he walked in, he assumed that he was now alone in his pain. The dildo ebbed and flowed like the tide. It never sped up or slowed down; never pushed harder of softer. It just kept coming for what seemed like hours.
As time went on, the pain started to lessen as did the sunlight streaming through the windows. Luke looked over to them. Somehow, perhaps because of the pain, it didn't bother him that his ordeal was taking place in front of the two large, uncovered windows. Now, as the bright afternoon sun dimmed into evening, he looked through them to see a formal garden empty of any life save one squirrel that was perched on a decorative stone rail.
The door opened and closed again, then the dildo pulled out of him and the soft hum of the machine stopped leaving a noticeable silence in the room. He felt the clothes of the man - he had no way of knowing whether or not it was the same man - brush up against his ass as he positioned himself behind him. With no word or hesitation the man began fucking him. He pushed hard and deep, and Luke felt a drop of sweat hit his lower back. The man was obviously big, but had nothing on the dildo, and Luke wondered if he could derive any pleasure from his hole after it had been hammered by that machine.
Apparently he could, because in about five minutes, the man's thrusts became spastic and he came. The man lingered in the bliss of his orgasm for a moment, then said, "We're done."
Luke was slightly relieved that it was at least the same person who brought him in here. He was also relieved to see, as the man unstrapped his wrists, that the man had worn a condom which was still on his now sagging cock, the reservoir filled with cum.
After his wrists were loose, the man said, "You can go." And with that he walked out of the room leaving the door open to insist on Luke's exit.
He hadn't even bothered to untie Luke's ankles before he left. Exhausted and sore from being held in that position so long, Luke was eager to stand. He labored upright peeling his torso from the leathery cushion that he was now very grateful was on the top of the sawhorse. A wave of fatigue almost overcame him as he stood upright, his legs still spread apart by the straps around his ankles. He took a second to gather himself, then pulled open the straps.
Still buck naked, he staggered back into the foyer. His clothes were right where he left them. He sluggishly pulled them on and went back to his car. The cushioned seat felt good, and he rested in its soft embrace. Once he started his car, the clock glowed on his dashboard. He had been fucked by that machine for about an hour and a half. The mansion was in his rearview mirror and he looked back at it more confused than ever.
Two days later, Luke was sitting in his cubicle. His suit jacket was on a peg nearby and he pulled the knot of his tie loose. He had a block of half-finished code on his screen, the blinking cursor waiting for him to finish. He looked at the cubicle that was in front and to the left of him. As he'd done many times before, he examined the chiseled jaw of the young man there. Through his pastel dress shirts, one could always see the bulging pecs and biceps that Luke would have killed to run his hands over. Having this amazingly hot man in view almost all the time was a blessing, but also torture as the man was straight: an unfulfill-able wish.
Luke rubbed his neck. Surprisingly, it was not his ass that was sore from his time at the A mansion three days ago, it was his neck from being in that uncomfortable position for so long. Luke looked around. His was the last cubicle in the row, so no one could spy on him like he did the man in the pastel shirt. He dared to open his personal e-mail account for the twelfth time since he left the mansion. A smile broke across his face as he saw that he'd finally received an e-mail from A.
It read simply: I hear you did well on Sat. Be here next Sat. at 3pm. -Jacob
Somehow, Luke felt relieved.