To Let Go

Bobby stands at the bar and watches Roman. How the big man seems to command the room, to have others take notice. Many steer clear of Roman but some hover, circle around him wanting to be chosen. To be the one to submit, to be obedient and willing.  Bobby knew what it would entail to submit to Roman. He had known Roman for four years and heard the stories of one guy or another going into Roman’s basement where they endured being caged, left alone for long periods of time, naked, longing for Roman to come to them. The stories of the guys willing to get into a stockade or secured to a cross or just tossed on a bed to be tied up and fucked. Roman had described the wrought iron head and foot that was perfect for securing hands and feet.

Roman’s basement was for hard play, guys enduring days or weeks at a time in it. Bobby knew many of them. There was Paul who spent six months with Roman then allowed Roman to sell him to someone in Barcelona. Bryan had been next, a shy introverted guy who made Roman proud of his obedience. After four months of visiting the basement, a new person emerged, confident, self-assured. Someone who no longer waited for someone to approach him but approached the men he desired. The last Bobby had heard, Bryan was living with a guy in The Sheffield, the high-end condos downtown.  The next guy of some importance to Roman was Aaron. A boy, just eighteen, and far too eager initially. Roman told Bobby how he wished Aaron wasn’t so cocksure for he had a lot to learn. Bobby never knew what ended Aaron’s trips to the basement, but he still saw him at The Abyss with one man or another. The last guy of note was Roger, the one Roman swore was the one, the guy that seemed to please Roman the most. For nearly a year, Roger lived with Roman. It seemed like a perfect relationship, but then Roger got a job transfer to New York and was soon gone.

Roman had tried to get Bobby to submit to him. To come to the basement, but from their first meeting four years prior when Bobby had just moved to the city for his first job after getting his degree, he refused. Bobby told Roman he wasn’t into bondage or master/slave relationships or being submissive. But he did think about it, imagining doing those things Paul, Bryan, Aaron, and Roger had done. But it also scared him. It seemed like he would be debasing himself to submit so completely to someone. To admit publicly he wanted to feel the flogger warm his skin, for hands to hold his head while cock plunged to the back of his throat, or to be bound, tied up unable to move while cock fucked him until cum trickled from his ass. Or willing to just be left in a cage, naked and used, for long periods of time. His friends would make fun of him, and guys in the bar would point him out as Roman’s latest conquest, wondering if they would ever have a shot at that mouth and ass.

He had never been a confident person, one who would skinny dip in high school letting the guys and girls see him naked. The one who would freely admit he was a bottom, a guy who loved to get fucked. He worried how others viewed him. But Roman had seen him as someone desirous and it should have been enough. Roman had pursued him for a month before giving up and moving on to someone else. He often wondered what it would have been like if he had just submitted.

Looking into the mirror behind the bar, Bobby stared at his reflection critical of every blemish, of every aspect of his features that were not perfect. He looked at Roman’s reflection just to the side of his own considering the big muscular man. He knew the stats having heard them from others often enough. Six foot four inches tall, 225 muscular pounds, black hair, dark brown eyes, and nine inches of thick ram rod straight cock. On the right bicep, a tattoo of Charon, the Ferryman of Hades. Bobby looked at the strong masculine face and admired its attractiveness, then he turned his eyes back to his reflection. He was five foot ten inches tall, one hundred forty-seven pounds with an average skinny body. He had dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and a baby face down to the rosy, red cheeks and a rare need to shave. Looking more critically, he focused on those imperfect aspects, things he had used to berate himself since a teenager. The moles on his too long neck, the way one eye and ear were slightly lower than the other, just enough to notice when he held his head straight and looked for it. Then there was the cowlick, how his hair angled upward on one side of his forehead. He hated it and kept thinking he would just cut his hair close to the scalp, but then he didn’t like the shape of his head.

 

Roman was talking to Jack and Travis, the three of them laughing about something, and Bobby watched them in the mirror not wanting Roman to know how he was watching him. How he was thinking about Roman’s advances four years ago and what it might have been like if he had only submitted. He didn’t dare turn around and stare openly across the room. He worried Roman could see it in his eyes, recognize the look, one Roman talked about seeing in others.

Roman was his friend, someone he could confide in and there were many things he did confide to Roman, but never his secret sexual desires. He wondered if he could ever admit it to him. Maybe too much time had passed, their relationship now a comfortable friendship that precluded any possibility of sex. Roman would probably laugh it off as just a joke, something he was play-acting to get a rise out of him. Roman could never take him seriously…could he?

Jack and Travis headed toward the bar and Bobby watched Roman move to the chair, an old barber’s chair set along the far wall tucked between a vending machine selling snacks, cigarettes, and lube, and a trophy case with shiny gold trophies of past winners of contests held by the bar or one of the local organizations supporting the community. The chair was symbolic, a shrine of sorts, for the man sitting in it was showing his position as a top, a master, waiting to see if someone was willing to be their slave.

It was twenty-five feet or so from the bar to the chair. But in the reflection in the mirror, it seemed further away. Bobby found himself staring at Roman thinking of it. Not of the physical cock and its description he had heard so often over the last four years. But of Roman using it to fuck him. First in the mouth, then in the ass. He imagined what it would feel like to have the weight of the big man on top of him. The constriction that would make breathing difficult while cock plunged into his depths. Then he imagined the big hands holding him down, smacking his ass until it burned, or welding the large leather flogger that hung from a clip on the belt, the tassels draped across the seat and hanging long over its edge. He imagined the feel of them striking his skin until it was hot and glowing red. He imagined his ass glowing red as he bent over and spread his cheeks for Roman, revealing himself to be willing.

He only had to go to Roman and confide to this one secret he had kept from him.

Bringing his focus from the flogger up to Roman’s face he saw him staring back. Their eyes locked for a second and Roman nodded.

Bobby held his head down and exhaled as if exhausted. And he was exhausted. Exhausted from pretending to be something he wasn’t, pretending he didn’t want what was right in front of him. He finished his drink, sliding the empty glass across the bar and turned to face Roman.

The crowd seemed to shift and move out of the way until there was a clear path across the room. A path straight across it from his place at the bar to Roman in the chair. Bobby pushed off the bar, tugged his black T-shirt over his head revealing his upper body for the first time in the bar. He didn’t look to see how others saw him, this skinny guy staring across the room at Roman. Roman sat up and stared back as if summoning him to continue across the room.

Bobby took one step, then another until he was halfway across the room where he stopped. Just stopped. He stared at Roman wondering if he was worthy. He had to show Roman, demonstrate in some manner he was worthy. He went to his knees, giving Roman a long stare, then dropped to his hands and knees and began to crawl.

He crawled forward head down seeing only the dark dirty floor. Drink straws, a piece of a napkin, and with every step of his hands, the feel of the grit and grime. He didn’t look up but heard how the bar fell silent, only the music playing filled the air with sound. He wondered what the others thought as he crawled across the floor. He wondered with fear and anxiousness what Roman thought.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the foot of the barber’s chair came into view and with it two size 13 black boots. The boots didn’t move, and Bobby didn’t dare look up. He moved to the right boot, rubbed his cheek along the side of it, inhaling the scent of polished leather. He ran his nose up the laces, then stuck out his tongue and dragged it over the toe. He spit shined the toe with his tongue, then moved along the side of the boot as the other boot came to rest on his back just below the neck. He felt the hard sole press into his skin as he dragged his tongue up the side of the boot.

“That’s enough; stand up,” said Roman.

Bobby sat up, then climbed to his feet before Roman. He stared into the stoic face trying to get a read on him. Did his act of submission please him or would Roman reject him. He wanted the former with such desire his cock stirred in the confines of his jeans, but he feared the latter. Roman stood, towering over him, chest bare except for the leather harness, and Bobby looked at the hard nub of each nipple unable to face him as he waited for some response. A hand came to his neck, then moved to lift his chin until he was facing Roman.

“I’m glad to see it’s you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, sir.”

Suddenly Roman was pushing him, turning him toward the vending machine until he was up against it. He felt the warm glass against his back and the hand on his neck, how it tightened its grip and pushed upward until only his toes touched the floor. He felt how it stretched his body, how his jeans felt loose around his waist, just hanging from it. Roman leaned in and kissed him roughly while slipping the other hand down into his jeans until fingers were touching his hardening cock.

There were comments by those nearby, crude and sexual, and encouragement for more. But Bobby didn’t notice, for all he could comprehend was Roman. Roman’s lips against his own. Roman’s right hand on his neck pinning him to the vending machine, and the left down inside his jeans getting him rock hard.

“If you leave with me, you’re not going home until early Monday morning in time to get ready for work,” said Roman.

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, sir.”

 

A half dozen guys follow them out, one tossing Roman the black T-shirt Bobby had tossed on the floor. They follow Roman who holds Bobby by the neck guiding him to the Jeep Gladiator sitting along the back of the parking lot. Before Roman opens the passenger door, he releases Bobby and steps back.

“Strip.”

Bobby wants to protest, tell Roman to not make him do it in front of the others. But he stands in the shadow of the truck with eyes locked on Roman and undoes the button then tugs down the zipper feeling the jeans go loose around his waist. He tugs off his shoes, socks, then works each leg free until standing in just his boxer briefs, the white fabric glowing bright in the dim light. He’s breathing hard and feels a strange conflict. On one hand, he doesn’t want to get naked, not in the parking lot and not in front of a bunch guys, some he knows, and some he doesn’t. But on the other hand, he feels his erection pressing against the front of the boxer briefs wanting to be freed. He feels a state of arousal like never before, and he takes the boxer briefs by the waistband and works them down until they are loose around his thighs, and he lets them fall around his ankles. Naked, cock angled out rock hard, he stands letting Roman and the others see him. Then he kicks the boxer briefs off where they land at Roman’s feet.

Roman picks them up and comes toward him. The passenger door is opened, and Bobby climbs into the seat. Roman opens the glovebox taking out handcuffs, putting them around each wrist, then he shoves the boxer briefs into Bobby’s mouth and closes the door. As Roman moves around the front of the truck, Bobby sees the guys smiling and making comments, to each other and to Roman. When Roman has the truck running and in gear, the guys move aside letting them pass as they drive away heading to Roman’s home, the one with the basement where Bobby knows he’ll spend the next three nights.

 

Bobby feels his nakedness. The rawness of it as he sits on a cold concrete floor, hands tied over his head to the bars of the cage. The cage is just large enough to sit down with legs folded underneath and high enough he can get on his knees. He thinks of it, on his knees up to the bars sucking Roman’s cock. He thinks of Roman’s hands touching him back in the bar, fondling his cock getting him hard. He thinks of the way the hand felt on his neck, the tight grip restricting his breathing and the strength to lift him off his feet if so desired. Blindfolded and naked all he thinks about is sex. Sex with Roman, submitting to sucking and fucking and…

Things that scare him, terrify him to the point he might show weakness, and in the end fail Roman.

How long Roman had left him alone in the basement he had no idea. Fifteen minutes, an hour, maybe longer. Wasn’t Roman horny? Wasn’t he ready to fuck? To get that big cock sucked. Bobby was ready to give Roman what he wanted, to assume any position, or all of them. He would lay on his back, straddle the waist and sit down on it, or get on his hands and knees like in the bar and let Roman fuck him like an animal. Relentlessly, thrusting with the power of his muscular body until spent.

A door closes nearby and Bobby waits, listening intently for any sound. His hands are freed, and he rubs the wrist to get all the feeling back into them.

“Take off the blindfold.”

Bobby slips the blindfold off and blinks until his eyes adjust to the light, then looks up at Roman. The large man is naked, cock angled out half hard. And he is enticingly close the cage, cock only an inch from the bars of the door. Roman steps closer pushing the cock through the bars.

“Bobby. Suck.”

Bobby gets on his knees and moves to the offered cock. He pushes his face against it and inhales Roman’s scent, kisses the smooth skin, then angles his head aligning his mouth with the head and takes it in his mouth. He pushes forward, taking all of it, feeling it flex and thicken on his tongue. He sucks and tongues and moves his lips along its growing length, hungrily, desperately, until it stretches out to its full nine-inch length. It is thick, so fucking thick, it stretches his jaws wide to take it, but he takes it, as much as he can, sucking and slurping on the head while his own cock grows hard. He moves to the bars of the door, presses his body against the cold steel while Roman’s cock pushes at the back of his throat and his own cock brushes against a calf. Every touch is arousing, each brush of flesh against flesh, each thrust of cock into his mouth.

Bobby doesn’t see Roman reach through the bars on top, but he gasps when it grabs him by the hair and jerks his head back. Spit hits him in the face, and as it trickles down his cheek as he looks up at Roman, mouth open, gasping for air.

“You need a bit more time.”

NO, Bobby almost exclaimed. No, no more time, no more being left alone but he doesn’t say any of it, instead he watches Roman go to the door and leave. This time he is able to look around at his surroundings, taking in everything he had only heard about in the past. The cross is in the corner with two spotlights on it. The shiny metal rings and nail heads contrast with the dark wood. He sees the stockade, surprised at how simple it looks after years of hearing Roman talk of its use. Of guys secured in it on their knees sucking cock then taking it in the ass. He pictures himself in it, how it would make him stay on his knees, bent forward with arms and head through the stockade. The bed is on a wall in front of him and he see the physical presence he remembered Roman describe, first of its construction of vinyl wrapped plywood on the bed frame, then about its frequent use. Looking around he sees chain hanging from the wood structure of the floor above, a table with lube and various devices laying across it, the flogger prominent in the center of it, and to his left, he sees a shower stall wondering if it was used more for cleaning up or fucking. To his right he looks at the blank wall wondering if Roman has plans for more gear in the future. Then he notices it. Right by the cage on the floor. A dildo, eight inches long he would guess and next to it a bottle of lube. Is he to use it, loosen his hole for Roman’s cock, or is it a test of some kind. He sits down and stares at the 8” fleshy looking cock, how it curves slightly, and the shaft is ribbed with fake veins and wrinkles. Without thinking about it, he is soon slowly stroking his own cock. He has drooled so much his hand moves slickly on his cock, and it arouses him to the point he wants to cum, but he lets go of his cock and watches if flex with his arousal until it begins to soften. Then he strokes it again, stopping once again before coming. Over and over, he does this until it is painful, this tease of his cock. The clear slick just drools from the slit and trickles down the head and he smears it along the shaft renewing his erection, all the while staring at the dildo sitting upright just through the bars.

He rises onto his knees and reaches through the bars until he has the dildo in hand. It is thick, but not as thick as Roman’s cock. He reaches for the lube, flips the top open and dribbles the slick liquid down the dildo until it is running over his hand. He smears it around the cock then reaches back and rubs it along is ass. He sits the dildo on the floor and moves over it. Stroking his cock, he eases down on it. His ass touches it and he shifts his position until the blunt head is at his opening and he lowers himself feeling the penetration. His cock flexes in his hand as he takes inch after inch. He takes half of it, then begins to move up and down working his ass over it, taking more and more until he could sit down on it all the way. He strokes his cock and moves his ass on the dildo, up and down until he is so close to coming, he has to slip his ass off it and let go of his cock.

He is panting, like a bitch in heat, face pressed to the cold steel bars, cock flexing up and down between his thighs, and his ass feeling empty when the door opens and Roman comes in.

“Will you do as I ask?”

Yes, yes, goddamn it, yes, Bobby thinks as he just turns his eyes to Roman. He watches the man approach, come right up to the cage, and rub hard dripping cock across his face.

“Yes,” Bobby utters, not sure if he is answering the question or telling Roman, he likes the cock in his face.

 “Suck.”

The cock comes to his mouth and Bobby takes it. He holds tight to the bars as cock is fed to him, inch after thick inch until it is pushing at the back of his throat. He tries to control his breathing and take it, every inch, and when hands reach into the cage and hold his head to the bars, he has to take it, every inch until his nose is pressed into pubic hair.

The cock moves through his lips with a steady rhythm, a fuck motion that arouses him, makes his own cock get rock hard again. He feels how it slaps against the cold steel bars while Roman’s cock fucks his mouth. When the hands tighten their hold and Roman shoves to the back of his throat, he chokes on the first eruption when it hits the back of his throat. Wad after wad erupt from Roman’s cock quickly filling his mouth and he savors it, lets it swirl around his tongue and the spurting cock until his mouth is so full he must swallow or risk losing so much as a single drop.

 

Bobby is secured to the cross, facing Roman. His cock angles outward hard, dripping, as he watches Roman wave the flogger getting the feel of it, the rhythm of its movement back into memory, working his arm in a manner to gain maximum movement of the tassels. It strikes him on the stomach, then chest, and he takes it. Again, the flogger strikes, and he feels the sting of the strike and the slow building warmth of his skin. He shivers when the strikes hit his stomach, the shudders and jerks when the flogger strikes his cock and balls. He suppresses the desire to cry out, to howl with the pain of it, and Roman stops, stepping back.

Roman steps back up and renews his flogging until his chest, stomach, and thighs are red and burning, and he is gasping for breath. Roman releases him, only to make him turn and face the wall. The flogging renews, hitting across the back, the ass, and across the thighs until he is sweating and shivering and on the verge of pleading with Roman to stop. Then it stops and he is left to hang from his bonds trying to calm his breathing. 

“Bobby. Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop and let you go home if you want.”

“No. Keep going. I want this.”

Bobby knows he can stop Roman at any time. All he has to do is utter the safe word, just say it and Roman promised he would stop. It gave him an out, a way of stopping Roman’s use of his body. But he knew he wouldn’t use it. Not now that he finally found the courage to submit to him.

 

Bobby lays his wrist and neck on the lower section and Roman closes the stockade and locks it in place with a padlock. Something that requires a key to unlock. He had pictured the position but now it is real. He is on his knees and bent forward. The stockade is loose enough to allow some movement of his head and hands, but not much. He senses Roman behind him, then feels a hand slide down his back, hot and slick against his skin. The hand moves over his ass, then works fingers down between his cheeks until they are prying at his hole. One finger, then two penetrating it, working around its slick opening and Bobby hears Roman chuckle.

Roman is suddenly in front of him, cock in his face, and he takes it. As Roman works it through his lips, drool drips from his chin and his own cock begins to harden again.

“That’s it, get it good and wet. It’s all the lube I’m going to use.”

Bobby slobbers over Roman’s cock, gets it as wet as he can for it was what was asked, and he knows he will need it.

Roman pulls back and Bobby waits, knowing Roman is moving around behind him. He senses it, then feels his legs kicked apart, then hands on his back, rubbing and stroking him as cock is slapped across his ass, pushed up along the crevice between his cheeks until he is moaning and trying to push back.

“Fucking whore,” Roman utters jokingly as he pumps his cock between the cheeks and over the lower back.

Bobby wants to tell Roman to stop teasing him. He wants to tell Roman to put it in him, to fuck him, for he wants it so bad his own cock flexes with his arousal.

The hands leave his back, and one is pulling his cheeks apart as the cock is guided to his opening. A push and it feels like half of the cock is buried inside him. It feels twice as thick and far longer. Then he feels Roman push deeper, inch after inch, and he shudders with the penetration.

“Fuck,” Bobby utters, trying not to cry out.

Hands hold his waist as cock pummels his inside. Roman’s pace increases until he is hammering hips against ass and the stockade is rocking and squeaking, and Bobby is banging his neck and wrists on the sides of the holes.

A hand snakes around his waist and touches his cock, then takes it stroking in rhythm with Roman’s brutal pace. Bobby takes it, every thrust into his depths. Every smack against his ass. And that hand on his cock is bringing him to the brink of release.

Roman, sir…I’m going to come.”

It’s a pleading for Roman to slow down if he is not to come, a warning he is so close he can’t hold back.

“You can come. Come for me.”

Roman slows, pushing cock into Bobby’s depths in a manner that lets him feel every inch. A push inward and tug outward, over and over, and Bobby is fully aware of every fucking inch. It is during this slow fuck, hand stroking his cock at the same pace, that he comes. Painfully, with such force he jerks and shudders with it. His cock flexes in the hand with every ejaculation, shooting wad after wad until finally spent. As he settles into the stockade gasping for breath and body on fire, Roman begins to fuck with renewed enthusiasm. A hard brutal pace that makes Bobby’s cock stay hard as he rocks and shakes in the stockade.  After what seems an impossibly long time, Roman bellows like a bull, shoves into his depths, shuddering and jerking with release.

“Clean me.”

Bobby sees the slimy cock in his face, half hard and dripping as he opens his mouth to take it as commanded.

 

Roman entered the room again, still naked, once again erect. He dragged Bobby from the cage to the bed, tossed him down on it and methodically tied his hands to the frame at the head.

With an ankle in each hand, Roman penetrated Bobby, pushed all the way into his hole, then began to fuck. Hips banging against ass, the old metal bed frame squeaking and rocking, then banging against the wall, all in the rhythm of their fuck. Roman spread the legs wide apart, then held the legs together against his chest as he slowed then sped up his fuck. For Bobby it was about the penetration, the feel of the big thick cock sinking into his ass. The push and tug through his loosened opening until his own drooled on his stomach.

Roman pushed his legs to one side, twisting him at the waist and banged his insides until he saw stars. Brutal, quick thrusts into his depths that seemed to push the air from his lungs. He gasped for breath as Roman tore his ass up, just hammered his insides until he felt a need to cum. He tried to slow it, attempted to think of something else, but all he could think about was Roman and his big fat cock and how he was taking it, every goddamn inch. His own cock drooled on his stomach then flexed up and down as cock battered his insides.

“Sir, please!”

“Go on, come for me.”

And he did. Shuddering with every ejaculation, Bobby worked his hips, pushed against Roman then pushed forward as if that made each ejaculation that much harder. Cum rained down on his face and chest, then painfully dribbled from the slit as cock continued to batter his insides.

“Roman.”

A painful breathless cry.

Roman held Bobby by the back of the knees and pushed down until it was hard to breathe. He shifted over him, held the legs down letting Bobby feel his weight, and he resumed their fuck. He smacked down on the upturned ass as sweat dripped down on Bobby. The bed rocked noisily with their movement, getting louder as Roman’s pace increased.

Bobby lay on the bed, tugging against the rope binding his hands as Roman hammered his insides. Then Roman bellowed like a bull, shoved inward all the way and kept jamming hips against ass as he filled Bobby’s ass with his load.

 

The room is dark, only a small light somewhere in the corner providing some illumination. Everything was grey or in dark shadow, making the room seem larger than it was. Bobby leans back against the cold steel bars, hands tied to the bars across the top, and tries to relax, to find a comfortable position to get some sleep for he knows Roman will not be returning for some time. He thinks of their sex, how he sucked Roman’s cock, then took it in the ass. It still aroused him to think of it. If only his hands were not bound and tied to the top of the cage, but then Roman understood, knew he would masturbate to the memory of their first fuck. His cock stirred as he replayed their sex. Reimagined the physical nature of it, the way Roman touched him, manhandled him, fucked him.

He pictured that cock in his face then remembered the feel of it stretching his ass open and fucking him to the point he came. He looked down and saw the head of his cock was in the dim light for it had risen erect from between his thighs. If only he could take it in hand.

 

“Bobby, wake up.”

Bobby saw the cage door was open and a card table was set up in the room with breakfast sitting on it.

“Time for breakfast,” said Roman as he untied Bobby’s hands.

Naked, cock half-hard, Bobby went to the table and sat on the cold metal chair. He was ravenous, and he ate without speaking, Roman standing off the side watching.

“You need to clean up and get ready. I laid out what you’re to wear on the table.”

“Yes, sir.”

Roman smiled, just a brief curve up of the mouth, then he left the room.

Bobby showered, then went to the table to see what Roman had laid out. There were only two items. A collar, black leather with one chrome ring on the front of it, and a pair of shorts, short in the legs and made of shear fabric. Slipping his hand into a leg opening he saw how it was completely visible. It felt like a test. Some way to push him. He had told Roman in the past he didn’t like the idea of others watching him, didn’t feel comfortable with the way some guys looked at him, as if judging his looks and finding him lacking.

It had to be a test.

Bobby slipped on the shorts wondering why bother with anything, but the soft black shear fabric was soft to his skin, none more so than his sensitive cock. Then he put the collar around his neck securing the buckle in back. He went to the mirror mounted on the wall and looked at his reflection. He saw his cock stirring with his arousal and thoughts of sex. He saw how the shear black shorts and the black leather collar contrasted with his skin tone, fair white against black.

The door swung open and Roman entered the room dressed in black leather pants with a cod piece, black vest open down the front and a black leather cap. It was too early to go to a bar or club, so Bobby wondered what Roman was up to.

Roman came to him, hooked a leash into the loop and tugged him to follow. Out the door, up the steps to the main level of the house. They came out into the entry hall and Roman led him to double doors opposite the living room. Bobby expected a study or a library, some formal room with books and old leather chairs. Following Roman into the room, he found it was nearly bare of furniture. Just four black leather chairs positioned in the four corners of the room and in the middle a platform, covered in black vinyl about two feet high. In three chairs sat men dressed like Roman, each with a guy on a leash in some attire that barely covered their cocks. Bobby realized he was the only one practically naked as he followed Roman to the empty chair, taking his position on the floor beside it. The guy to his right had a jock strap on, the pouch bulging with cock. The guy to his left was in ratty gym shorts, the legs cut so short the head of his cock was visible. Across the room in the opposite corner, the guy wore black shorts he would soon realize had zippers front and back.

He felt embarrassed. He felt exposed, too exposed. But he stayed on his knees like the others with hands held at his side letting them look. And he looked around the room seeing each man and his boy staring, eyes looking up and down his body. Did they like what they saw he wondered, then he noticed the cock in the gym shorts rising up erect, pushing up at the leg.

“Bobby has a problem with his self-image, how he views himself. He needs to understand that what I find desirous is all that matters, and he should relish the opportunity to display himself for me,” said Roman.

“Does he satisfy you,” one of the men asked.

“So far, yes. But he needs to prove himself to me, prove he can please me when and where I so choose.”

“Like now?” someone else asked.

“Like now. Bobby, get me hard.”

Bobby turned to see the cod piece released and half-hard cock exposed, along with the low hanging nuts. He turned and moved between the legs, and with a hand on each thigh, moved his head down and forward until he could kiss that cock, tongue it, and the sac behind it. He worked the nuts around in their sac, then took the enlarging cock in his mouth and sucked until he struggled to breath and drool dripped from his chin.

“Stand up,” Roman uttered.

Bobby heard the tone, aroused and wanting. He stood and Roman roughly jerked the shorts down, causing his cock to flop out, hard, rock hard. He couldn’t believe how it affected him, to have others watch while he sucked Roman’s cock, struggled to take every inch then suck on the head wishing for its release. But he knew Roman had other plans, and he watched him lean back and hold up his cock. Nine inches and thick as a man’s wrist he thought as he looked at it, shiny and wet from his spit. He didn’t need to be told what to do. He climbed into Roman’s lap facing him with his legs nestled down between the arms of the chair and each thigh. He rubbed his ass over the cock head, pushing his own against Roman’s chest. Wet slick smears trialed the head of his cock as he worked his hips, rubbed his ass over that blunt cock head until he wanted it so bad he didn’t care if it did hurt on initial penetration.

He shuddered and shivered as he lowered his ass on Roman’s cock. The pain from his hole stretching open made him breathless, but he kept easing down, inch after inch, knowing the men and their boys could see him take Roman. He moved down until he knew he had over half of it, then he started a slow fuck. Up and down, over and over, working his ass down on that cock until he was taking nearly every inch and Roman held his waist keeping him upright and steady.

“Fuck me, sir. Fuck me,” Bobby uttered as he held his forehead against Roman’s while working his ass up and down, up and down, until that big fat cock moved easily through his opening.

“Change positions; turn around,” Roman uttered in a low voice, one only Bobby could hear.

“Yes, sir,” in the same low voice.

Bobby eased off Roman’s cock, climbed down to his feet and faced the men. He stroked his cock just enough to smear his slick on it. It shined in the dim light of the room and stuck straight out, rock hard and drooling. He let it go letting the men and their boys see it flex up and down with his arousal, then be eased back, climbed into Roman’s lap, feet up on the seat of the chair. He leaned back with his ass hovering over the cock held up for him. He dropped down on it taking every inch. Then he lay against Roman’s left shoulder, spread his knees wide apart, and worked his ass on that cock. Up, until the head nearly slipped free, then down, all the way, ass smacking down on hips.

“Jesus,” someone uttered, and Bobby looked around the room. Boys were sucking their master’s cocks. The one in gym shorts was now naked, the gym shorts lying on the floor. The guy directly opposite had his shorts unzipped, front and back, exposing hard cock and a nut sac drawn up tight and in back, a round ass Bobby knew would be on a cock before the day was over.

Head on Roman’s shoulder, mouth gapped open sucking in air, Bobby worked his ass, slammed it down on that cock, then upward exposing most of it to the others, every slick wet inch that had been in his ass. It made him feel more alive than ever before. Every muscle burned with his exertion, and he felt feverish, so hot sweat beaded up on his skin. He gasped for breath. Felt his own cock flop around his groin, hard, leaking, ready to come with just a little manipulation. If only Roman would let him.

“Let them see you come,” Roman whispered and Bobby had to suppress the desire to smile. He kept a stoic appearance, serious, determined to please Roman and in turn the others.

Opening his eyes, Bobby raised his head and stared across the room at the man being sucked by the boy in the unzipped shorts. He knew him, a close friend of Romans from their college days, and the one Roman wanted to impress the most. He stared until the man was looking at him and he took his cock in hand and slowly stroked it as he slowed his fuck on Roman’s cock. Slowly he descended on that cock. Slowly, he raised his ass, feeling every inch slip through his loosened opening. He kept it up, this agonizingly slow pace, one that made him shiver and moan and grunt obscenities.

It was too much, and unable to hold back Bobby increased his pace, of his masturbating and of his fuck. Ass slammed down on Roman’s hips as his hand smacked his abdomen. Rough, physical, and a pace that made his hand a blur and the sense of his fuck just the fullness of cock buried inside him. Looking across the room, he saw the man has his boy on all fours fucking him. To his left the boy was in the man’s lap riding the cock in a mirror image of his own fuck. To his right, the boy was on the floor on his back, cock still confined in the jockstrap as he was getting his ass fucked. Looking back across the room, the man was watching him while holding the boy by the waist and fucking as fast and rough as his own fuck.

“Roman…please…”

Bobby slammed his ass down and came. A thick wad hit him in the face. He kept working his ass on Roman’s cock while his own spurt wad after wad until his chest and stomach was covered in it. Roman put hands on his thighs and pushed his ass down as the cock inside him erupted. He felt it flex with each ejaculation as it filled his hole.

 

Laying on the platform, he held his legs behind the knees and took each man. The man opposite was first, shoving a slimy cock into his dripping ass and fucked to a rough release. Then the man to his right came over, shoved the boy’s jockstrap into his mouth then ordered him to fuck Bobby. The leaking cock was raked across his ass, then pumped along side his own, and finally it was put to his leaking hole and shoved into his depths. It didn’t take long, the boy too aroused, and he was slamming hips against Bobby’s upturned ass while coming. The man from Bobby’s left came over and pushed his boy to suck Bobby’s cock while he moved into position. With a hot mouth on his cock and another cock in his ass, Bobby clutched the edge of the platform and held on, wondering how much he could take. He tilted his head back and saw Roman was still in his chair watching while slowly stroking his cock. He knew Roman would fuck him last, making a show of it.

A show, a display of his arousal, how much he wanted the sex, and Bobby arced his back pushing his ass down on the cock fucking him. He moaned and squirmed on the platform, then begged the boy sucking his cock to suck harder. He pushed the boy’s head down on his cock until he gagged, seeing his man smile at the roughness of it. Then he pushed the mouth off his cock seeing the boy’s disappointment.

“Sit on it,” Bobby uttered.

The boy moved over his waist and while facing him dropped down on his cock, all the way, then began to ride it. As cock fucked his ass, the boy rode his cock. But it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to feel that man’s cock next to his own and he pulled the boy down, got him to lay on his chest. Looking over the right shoulder, told his man to do it, to put that big hard cock in the boy’s ass next to his own.

It was so goddamn tight, the man’s cock next to his own. But the boy took it like a champ, not uttering one word. But Bobby felt the body shudder against him as the second cock pushed in next to his own. Then the man began to fuck, and Bobby bit his lower lip and held his head back. He watched Roman watching them as cock rubbed along side his own inside the boy’s ass. The boy cried out, begged his man to fuck him, and Bobby held tight to the edge of the platform as the man fucked harder, faster, until banging against the boy’s ass.

Bobby came first, feeling his cock flex within the tight hole with every release. The man’s cock began to move easily in his cum using it as lube. Then he pushed the boy down and slammed cock into his depths, pumping another load into him.

 

Bobby was on his knees and his cock hovered parallel with his stomach. It drooled its slick forming a puddle on the platform. Roman came to him, hooked the leash to his collar then climbed on the platform on his knees coming up to Bobby’s head. Nothing was said for Bobby knew what to do. He opened his mouth and took Roman’s cock, took every inch letting it push into his throat. Then he moved on it, worked his lips along the thick shaft, tongued the blunt head, and slobbered on it until it dripped from his chin. Roman pulled the leash tight burying the cock into his mouth making him gasp for air, then Roman let him resume his suck.

Roman moved between Bobby’s legs, kicked them further apart, and buried all nine thick inches into his ass. Then Roman fucked. Fucked with a slow steady pace letting the men see every inch slid in and out of Bobby’s ass. He fucked steadily until Bobby’s cock flexed up and down and his body sweated with the exertion. He fucked until the others came while watching them, then he held the narrow waist in his big hands, tight, fingers digging into the flesh and he fucked harder, with hips banging against ass. The sound of it echoed in the room, only slightly louder than Bobby’s whorish cries.

Roman grabbed Bobby by the hair pulling him upright on his knees while he kept fucking. He shoved forward so roughly Bobby’s cock flopped around wetly smacking stomach and hips. He tugged harder on Bobby’s hair causing him to arc his back and push his cock outward, rock hard and sticking straight out. Every thrust rocked Bobby. Every thrust seemed to knock the air out of him and make his cock drool. Roman nipped his neck, swirled tongue in the curvature of his ear, then reached around and took the drooling slick cock and stroked it as roughly as he shoved his own into Bobby’s ass.

Bobby came first, a thick wad of cum arcing through the air spattering on the platform. Then another and another, each one landing closer to Bobby’s knees until the last just dribbled out and Bobby was begging Roman to stop. Then Roman pushed into his depths, all the way, and came.

 

Bobby woke in the cage, naked and sore and still feeling exhausted. He had no idea of the time, not even if it was still Saturday or if it was now Sunday. Leaning in the corner of the cage he wondered when Roman would come for him again, already imagining it, picturing some new scenario where he took that cock, in the mouth, in the ass, whichever Roman desired.

Then he replayed the events of earlier, how he had let himself just go. Just do the things he knew Roman wanted him to do. To let others watch, then participate. He wondered if he met Roman’s expectations, if he had done well, truly shown Roman his willingness and desire to submit to him.

He leaned his head against the bars and relived Roman’s last fuck, just the two of them on the platform while the others watched. It had aroused him so much. Made him feel his masculine nature. The erection. The burning muscle from his exertions. The feel of a man’s cock inside him. Then he fantasied about everyday life, how he could live with Roman if allowed. He pictured cooking meals for him, cleaning his house, doing the laundry, and when Roman wanted, sucking his cock, and taking it in the ass. He closed his eyes and let the fantasy become a dream, drifting off to sleep again.