The Interview

Oliver sat in the chair, exposed, no table in front of him, no other furniture for twenty or more feet across the room until you got to the other end where a leather sofa sat facing him. The blood red leather glowing warmly in the dim glow of light in the rest of the room but for Oliver the room felt hot, intense, as he sat under a white light, harsh in its glare. He could barely see anything in the room around him without squinting.

His palms felt clammy and sweat trickled down his sides from underneath his arms even though the room was comfortably cool. He felt his heart racing in his chest as he struggled to keep his breathing even, some semblance of calm, no matter how much of a lie such an appearance would be. He shifted once again, uncrossing his legs and re-crossing them the opposite way, this time the right leg lying over the left. A door opened, somewhere off to his right and he sat up straight nervously waiting. 'Was this him?' he wondered to himself.

A guy come in carrying a tray with a glass of water positioned in the exact center, three cubes of ice floating inside of it. But Oliver didn't notice this for his eyes fell to the guy carrying it. He wore shorts made of leather, the legs so short only their extreme tightness kept his genitals from being visible, and other than a black leather collar and black boots that came up nearly to his knees that was all he had on. His bare chest had a satiny smooth glow in the dim light of the room. Oliver couldn't divert his eyes from the guy, the lean smooth body and he suddenly felt how inappropriately he was dressed in a polo shirt and khaki pants and boat shoes. He felt so out of place, knew he couldn't be part of this, that it was too much for the way he viewed himself. Or the way others viewed him.

He was the son of Dr. and Mrs. James R. Richfield of Raleigh, North Carolina, the youngest of three children who had just entered college. He was going to be a computer analyst, not having the stomach for medical practice like his older brother and sister. He drove a BMW, had an allowance that shamed most middle class incomes and had never gotten into trouble, not of any kind.

The guy came up to him holding the tray down in front of him and Oliver saw the shaved armpit, the smooth legs and arms and assumed he must be shaved all over. 'Was this part of the guy's fantasy, or some aspect of his submission?' Oliver wondered to himself.

"Thanks" Oliver said as he took the glass of water and the guy only smiled, nodded his head and backed up three steps before turning his back to Oliver and started toward the door. He watched the guy move away and realized he was checking him out, taking the measure of the guy. About his height, five ten maybe, and he looked lean, long legged and Oliver assumed the guy probably didn't weight his own one seventy five but he knew he had a more muscular frame and he suddenly was glad for the way his father had pushed him into sports and his older brother encouraged him, pushed him to excel. 'Richfield's don't fuck around' his brother often said jokingly when they were alone.

Oliver ran a hand through his hair knowing it would mess it up, make it where every hair was not neatly lying in its place. But he knew it would still look good, the natural tasseled way it would fall back into place. The thick light brown hair would flop over his forehead, boyishly long, just down to his eye brows keeping his bright blue eyes visible. He thought his ears stuck out too far, his nose too angular, like his mother's and he didn't like the way his beard came in so uneven unlike his brother and father who could have the most masculine five o'clock shadows that he envied so, but he knew his thick light brown hair, dark olive skin tone and bright blue eyes made up for those attributes.

He looked nervously around the room wondering what made him come here, what deviant aspect of his character caused him to do something that would repulse his family, something that would literally shock them to know he allowed himself to be exposed to such a proposition. It had been one week ago since he found himself at that night club in town. He had heard about it in one of his classes, some of the other students joking around about the weekend's event coming up, the fetish nature of it and Oliver found himself leaning forward in his chair listening to every word. One of the girls, one with tattoos, piercings and jet black hair streaked with purple tell how she was doing demonstrations at the club that night and they should come out and see what it is all about before make judgments or jokes about the scene.

"Demonstrations?" Oliver had asked, suddenly interrupting someone else, his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

The girl had turned to him, her eyes betraying how she thought Oliver was the last person on earth who should be asking about the demonstrations and she stared at him for an uncomfortable long time before answering.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"I have a flogging station and when it gets late and the managers are not around I use something a little more intense" she had told him leaning in on the last part of her answer lowering her voice. It was a dare the way she answered.

Oliver had gone and tried to fit in with just a t-shirt and jeans but the shirt was a bleached perfect white and the jeans were so exclusive, so pristine, he stood out among the black, the leather, the rubber and the exposed skin. He started to leave but instead he drank one gin and tonic after the next till his inhibitions were worn down and he found himself slipping his t-shirt off. The jeans he couldn't do anything about but the shirt he could and he dropped it in a trash can as he walked by on his way to those demonstration tables. He had found the girl from his class, Rose, flogging some guy whose hands were secured in cuffs on a wood cross. She let the flogger hit the guy on his back until the skin glowed red and he was moaning with each blow. When the guy's time was up and Rose released him he turned toward their audience revealing a huge bulge in his worn faded jeans, his erection pushing at the frayed fabric so hard Oliver was surprised the guy's cock didn't rip through.

This uninhibited display of arousal, this giving oneself to someone else, the way the guy had taken the buildup of pain, the way his skin glowed with the slashes made Oliver realize how aroused he was himself, his own cock suddenly so confined in his jeans and he tugged on it trying to get it into a more comfortable position.

"Next" Rose had called out and a young woman came forward. Then there was an older guy who came up and he stood with his chest and stomach facing Rose and Oliver saw her smile as she let the first slash land harder than usual, a quick hard strike that made the guy suck in his breath then tell Rose to do it again. Oliver watched Rose work, every move of her arm, the way she guided the flogger to hit along a person's body and he wondered what it would feel like to submit to her, to let her work him over and he tugged at his cock feeling his arousal like never before.

Rose turned to him after he had watched her work over four different people and she nodded toward the cross. Oliver felt a trickle of sweat run from his armpit and his heart race in his chest. He shook his head no and headed to the bar, quickly cutting through the crowd. He knew come Monday he'd never hear the end of it when he got to that class. But come Monday when he went into that class Rose only wanted to know if he really had been approached by the man in the black jacket.

He felt the skin on skin contact with everyone he bumped into as he had made his way toward the bar, each touch, the way it felt hot to his skin and when he tried to move around a three guys dressed in leather pants and harnesses one backed up at the last minute bumping into Oliver. The leather straps with the metal rings pressed against his skin and for a moment he thought about hugging the guy, pulling their bodies together tighter.

"Excuse me...hey" the guy said when he looked back and Oliver felt his face flush hot, and he knew he was glowing red. Was it the way the guy looked at him, or the way he found himself feeling with the contact between their bodies.

"Sorry" Oliver mumbled and he quickly worked his way around the guys. He felt one of them touch his back as he moved by and he hesitated for a brief moment, gave consideration to it, to hooking up with one of them, or maybe all three and it frightened him, this sexual deviation from who he thought he was, this privileged man who was going to marry well, settle down and live an uncommonly good life. The image faltered and the whole room had seemed to move from under his feet. His fantasies came rushing back to him, vivid, the image of bondage, burning candles, the belt and now this flogger Rose had welded so expertly and there was the sex and in every dream, every fantasy the other person was androgynous, sometime man and woman, sometimes neither; just in control.

At the bar he had ordered a shot of tequila and threw it back sliding the shot glass across the bar for another. When he turned with the second in hand ready to toss it back he saw them come in. Two men, around mid thirties, dressed in a manner similar to everyone else but still different. The taller man wore a black jacket with long tails, no shirt and leather pants. His black boots shined with a high gloss even in the dim light of the nightclub. Anywhere else his attire would be cartoonish but not here. The other man was shorter and he wore a black dinner jacket over a black mesh shirt and leather pants. They moved together, slowly working their way through the crowd which parted for them reverently, some with their heads down.

Oliver watched them move through the crowd wondering who they were and why now, when it was getting so late and the club was beginning to thin out. When they stopped at the side of the dance floor Oliver watched how they scanned the crowd, their heads moving slowly left to right and when they had looked across the club from one side to the other they both, in unison without any apparent communication turned their heads toward Oliver. Oliver couldn't believe they were looking at him and he cut his eyes to the left then to the right but either side of him were small groups deep in conversation not aware of what was happening around them. He turned to look behind him and it was the same. When he looked back across the dance floor the shorter man nodded his head and smiled. Oliver felt his heart race wondering what it meant, fantasized of what he wanted it to mean but at the same time he feared it.

Oliver suddenly felt naked, even though he was only shirtless, as if he was on display and even though it troubled him he let one hand rise up and touch his right nipple, felt the hardness of it, the way it stuck out as a sign of his arousal then he let his fingers glide down his chest, over his stomach till he felt them touch the waistband of his jeans and he let his hand move to the pocket where he thumb locked it in the pocket. They had watched his every move and his cock flexed within its confinement.

Then he grew scared, maybe he was going too far and he turned and headed to the another spot, one near the back of the club where the light didn't penetrate and he could lose himself in the crowd. He took a chair along the wall and sat back propping his feet in another chair trying to look relaxed, confident, while inside the anxiousness he was feeling made his heart race inside his chest. There was very little light here and even less when the shorter man, the one wearing the dinner jacket and mesh shirt stood in front of him. He stood staring at Oliver and feeling cornered Oliver stared back unwilling to back down.

How long they stared at each other Oliver had no idea but he shifted in his seat and let his eyes move down from the silhouette of the man's head and he saw it, the small white card being held out toward him. He sat up, his hand shaking slightly and took the card. As soon as he had it in hand the man turned and walked away. Oliver watched him as he moved through the crowd till he came to the other man and the two of them headed to the exit and within moments they were gone.

Oliver flipped the card around within his fingers as he sat looking around the club wondering who saw the man come to him. There were a few looking his way but their expressions were not judgmental, instead they looked envious.

'Time to go' Oliver told himself as he stood up and made his way to the exit feeling some of the remaining patrons watching him as he moved through them, a straight line to the door that carried him across the dance floor and through those standing along its perimeter. He didn't stop walking once outside instead he kept moving, his eyes focused on what was in front of him and nothing else. He nearly walked out in front of a car when he got to the street. Horn blaring, the car swerved around him and he cussed aloud, more at himself than at the car. Across the street he went up the stairs to the third level of the parking deck and made his way to his car and not until he was safely inside, the doors locked, the stereo playing did he seem to breathe. He sat for a moment hands on the steering wheel, his grip so tight his knuckles turned white and he took a deep breath and exhaled as he finally relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. The card lay on the passenger seat and he turned on an overhead reading light and picked it up.

2134 Silver Leaf Drive

Below the printed address there was a date and time written in red ink. It was next Saturday with a time of seven o'clock. Nothing else was on the white card and Oliver thought 'no way' as he tossed it back on the passenger seat. A few minutes later he was pulling out onto the street heading home and as he pulled into the traffic lane he saw Rose walking down the sidewalk with another woman. She waved as he went by and he gunned the accelerator.

All the next week Oliver went to his classes, hung out with his friends, and pretending his visit to the nightclub had not happened. But all week that card lay on the passenger seat, face down, the stark white card almost radioactive in its glow lying on the black leather. Rose had not said anything to him about what had happened but she was nicer to him, even speaking to him when he came into the class. He wanted to ask her what she knew about the two men, what it all meant but deep down he knew what it meant.

Saturday arrived a beautiful cloudless day and Oliver hung out with some of his friends on the commons between the dorms, tossing a football, listening to music, and sitting around on the ground joking around. It was three o'clock and Oliver suddenly got up and headed back to his off-campus apartment telling his friends he had an engagement that night, deliberately vague letting them think what they will.

At seven o'clock on the dot Oliver was entering 2134 Silver Leaf Drive and led inside and down a wide corridor by a young man wearing a shiny black skin tight shirt and black leather shorts. The guy's muscular body was evident beneath the tight clothing and Oliver couldn't take his eyes off of it as he followed him into the large room.

Now he sat waiting, sipping water and feeling sweat trickle down his sides. He had never been so nervous and he kept sipping water as a means of distraction in lieu of any real thirst. The overhead light made him feel exposed as if he was naked.

The door somewhere to the right opened and he listened to the fall of footsteps as they approached and suddenly the taller man he saw at the club stood in front of him about fifteen feet away. He wore a black t-shirt and black jeans and he looked menacing, his height causing his head to rise above the ring of light giving the impression he was taller yet still.

"What is your name?" the man asked in a serious tone, nothing about it friendly.

"Oliver" he replied in a low voice trying to conceal his nervousness.

"Speak up!" the man demanded.

"OLIVER" he replied, now afraid he was too loud.

The man walked back to the sofa and sat down crossing his legs casually. He leaned back and let his arms stretch out across the back of the sofa. His foot rocked slowly back and forth.

"What is your name?" Oliver asked. Silence for what seemed an eternity, the silence so total in the room.

"It's not important for you to know that at the moment."

Silence.

Oliver shifted position on the chair again and found himself gripping the edge of the seat tightly. The door opened and the guy who had brought Oliver water appeared with the tray, only this time it was a glass of red wine, the deep red color appearing to almost float above the tray where it sat in the clear glass and he carried to the man sitting on the sofa. The man took the glass of wine and sipped it.

"That will be all" the man said to the guy who immediately backed away till he was in the shadows. Oliver didn't watch him once out of the main light instead kept his eyes on his mysterious host.

"Oliver you need to listen, and listen carefully. We don't suffer fools here and will have you escorted to the door if you don't do as we say. You understand what I'm saying?"

Oliver sat in stunned silence. Now the time had come, the truth of why he was here and he swallowed, wondering how he could leave without embarrassing himself.

"Yes sir."

The man sat for a moment casually drinking his wine.

"Okay, Oliver, I want you to stand up and strip."

Oliver started to protest, his mouth open with the intent of speaking but nothing came out. He stood up and slipped the polo over his head and held it a moment wondering where he should toss it.

"Just fold your things and lay them in the chair" the man commanded. Oliver nodded his head and folded his shirt then laying it on the chair. He kicked off his shoes, took off each sock and set them under the chair. He undid his khakis, slipped them off, neatly folded them and placed them on top of his shirt. He stood in his boxers and was surprised to find his cock half hard, a state of arousal he felt embarrassed to display in front of this man.

"Oliver...don't make me ask again" the man said and Oliver knew what he meant and he slipped the boxers down his legs and stepped out of them. He picked them up, neatly folded them and placed them on top of his khakis. When he turned around to face the man he saw the guy who had served them standing to the side. He was naked except for his boots and the collar around his neck. His cock hung thickly over its sac and he stood there at attention As Oliver and the man stared at him his cock rose up slowly, growing erect right in front of their eyes.

"Oliver, I'm not sure you know why you came here tonight, what basic need brought you to our door. But if you are honest with yourself now I think you'll be able to admit why you came to us tonight" the man said and when he fell silent he nodded toward the guy, one small nod barely noticeable.

Oliver watched as the guy came toward him, his cock rocking back and forth.

"Oliver you are going to suck Derrick's cock" the man commanded.

Oliver wanted to say no, wanted to say he was straight, that he couldn't do it. He wanted to say it was something someone like him couldn't do, that it was not proper and he started to shake his head but when Derrick moved in front of him he didn't say any of it. He said nothing as he moved to his knees, held his hands behind his back and moved his mouth to the cock angling out toward him. When he touched it with his lips he tasted it, the slick wet surface and it tasted almost sweet, an odd flavor not unpleasant, in fact he liked it and let his lips part pushing forward slipping the head of Derrick's cock into his mouth.

He took half of Derrick's cock feeling it slide over his tongue and push toward the back of his throat and the feel of that cock in his mouth aroused him more that he could imagine and he pulled back and moved forward again. When he heard Derrick moan it pleased him. He worked his mouth back and forth and after a while Derrick's hands came to his head and held him in place. Suddenly it was Derrick who was doing all the work pushing his cock into Oliver's mouth till he gagged. Derrick didn't let up, kept working his cock in Oliver's mouth, pushing a little further inward each time.

Oliver felt his airway get cut off when Derrick pushed inward all the way and he felt the control being exercised over him. Derrick's hands tightened on his head and suddenly his face was pressed tightly to Derrick's abdomen. He couldn't breathe with cock lodged in his throat and he was starting to panic. Derrick released his hold and Oliver moved back quickly, choking as he gulped air.

"Derrick, he has no experience" the man said and Derrick wasn't as rough afterward.

Oliver looked down as drool fell from his mouth and saw his own cock standing tall between his thighs. He was so aroused it ached. He rose up on his knees and took Derrick in his mouth and worked his head back and forth, a steady rhythm that he could keep up for a long time and Derrick began to moan, to pump his hips slightly with Oliver's ministrations. Their pace increased, Oliver taking Derrick faster and faster as he heard Derrick grunt and moan louder, each driving the other on till Derrick suddenly grabbed Oliver by his hair shoving forward sinking his cock into Oliver's mouth. Oliver felt the flood of cum in his mouth before he realized what was happening. Derrick's cock flexed in his mouth as it ejaculated each wad till his mouth was full and he had to swallow some of it. Derrick held still and let Oliver suck him till he was spent, till every drop was sucked from his cock then he pushed forward sliding his cock across Oliver's tongue feeling the slick cum coat the shaft.

When Derrick pulled free of Oliver's mouth and stepped back it left Oliver on his knees in the middle of the bright light. Cum dripped from his chin onto his chest and his cock was sticking almost straight up. No one said anything and Oliver finally looked up and saw the man who had met him at the door. The skin tight shirt and leather shorts were gone instead the guy stood wearing a harness and what appeared to Oliver as a jock strap, a leather one with some sort of codpiece at the front.

"Logan" the man on the sofa said with a flat tone of voice and Oliver saw the guy come toward him holding a section of nylon rope. Oliver felt his cock flex and when he glanced down he saw a bead of liquid pool in the slit. Logan moved to his back and he held his hands behind him, close together making it easier for Logan to tie them together.

Logan pushed Oliver over till his upper torso rested on the floor with him still on his knees and he knew his ass was spread open leaving him fully exposed. Logan moved down behind him and he felt it, the slick liquid being dripped down his ass. Fingers rubbed up and down through it smearing it over his ass and around his hole. Then he felt one finger penetrate him, work around his opening twisting and turning, stretching him open. A second finger stretched him open then a third and Oliver found himself pushing back taking them deeper into his hole.

"Logan" the man said, his tone of voice even, casual and Oliver felt the way Logan's grip on his waist tightened and the other hand pulled its fingers free of his hole.

"Yes sir" Logan replied and Oliver felt the blunt head of Logan's cock at his hole.

The round flared head pushed against Oliver, stretched his hole open as it slowly pushed into him, penetrated inch by inch. He felt Logan's hands firmly hold him by the waist as cock pushed into his hole deeper and deeper. Oliver held his head up and cried out as his body shivered with Logan's final thrust inward till his abdomen pressed against Oliver's ass.

Logan didn't hesitate, didn't give Oliver time to adjust as he began to fuck, to work his hips back and forth. Logan's muscular body exerted itself till his body was pumped up tight, every muscle bulging with his movement. His ass cheeks flexed with every push inward as he drove into Oliver's hole all the way sinking every inch into him.

Oliver couldn't think of anything except Logan's cock, the way it sawed back and forth in his hole, the way the painful breach of his hole changed, now loosened every sensation of movement a stimulation that ran through his whole body and inflamed his desires. Oliver let Logan rock his body roughly as he fell into rhythm with their fuck and he felt his own hard cock slap against his stomach when Logan shoved inward harder than usual from time to time.

"Oh fuck...fuck me" Oliver whispered as he pushed back meeting Logan's every inward thrust.

"What did you say?" the man on the sofa asked.

Oliver knew he was the one being addressed and he held his head up and looked across the room to the man sitting on the sofa where he saw Derrick on his knees between the man's legs, his head bobbing up and down.

"I said...FUCK ME" Oliver replied, defiantly, shamelessly and his voice echoed in the room as Logan gripped his waist tighter and fucked harder, short quick thrusts that jack hammered cock into Oliver's hole.

Logan began to moan, his breathing loud enough for Oliver to hear and he shoved into Oliver all the way and held still a brief moment then began to fuck in a slower rhythm, thrusting inward with each ejaculation as he filled Oliver's hole. He fucked till he was spent and he kept fucking till his cum pumped out around his cock and he kept fucking not wanting to stop and Oliver took it, every stroke.

"Logan...that's enough" the man said and Logan stopped and wiped one hand down Oliver's spine feeling the wet slickness of his skin.

"Yes sir" Logan said in a low voice as he pulled out of Oliver and stood up.

Oliver eased over on his side feeling the way his own cock was so hard it was wet and aching for release but he was exhausted too, the anxiety of earlier and then the way he let himself go all made him only want to close his eyes. He just wanted to close them for a minute, to feel his body in repose and his breathing back to normal. He let his eyes close thinking it was only for a minute and soon everything went black.

Oliver woke and struggled to sit up and found he couldn't. He was confused unsure of where he was until the memory of earlier came back to him. He opened his eyes and found himself in a small room, bare concrete floor and darkly painted walls. His hands were bound with leather cuffs that were locked together and attached to a very short section of chain that was anchored in the floor. He was still naked and he tried to move around into a different position and felt the unusual way his legs were held in position. He looked down and saw a leather cuff on each ankle secured to a metal bar that held his legs apart. Rolling over on his back, hands held over his head and his feet kept apart he felt it, this position of submission, the way the cool air of the room touch every part of his skin and it aroused him, made his cock flex and begin to thicken.

A door opened and footsteps approached.