Too defiant to Abuse

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

Introduction:

Longer-read: After college, the 23-year-old Michael J Cox moved clear across the country. Finding a new house, job, and a heap of trouble. Getting to know the friends and enemies he encountered. And the great sex he had with both. However much he liked the thuggish type, the defiant Mikey Mike hates to be dominated, bound, or abused. 
This is a 9-part dramatic depiction of what Mike had to endure setting up shop.

Disclaimer:
This story is strictly fictional and contains male-on-male (gay) sexual content, both implied and explicit. 

• If this offends you, please do not continue. 
• If you are under 16 years of age, please exit this story now. 

All character names, implied situations, parties, or locations are strictly fictional. Any similarities with real people are unintentional and purely coincidental. This fictional story is the author's imagination and is not based on real-life events or people. The author does not endorse any products or parties named in this story.

Copyright:
Any and all copyrights to this story remain strictly that of the author. No other publication, use, or reproduction of this story or parts of this story is allowed without the author's written consent. 

Too defiant to Abuse - Part 8.

Despite last night's attack. That Thursday, around lunchtime, the T-Bone seemed much busier than typical. Apparently, the truckers had spread the word that the remaining members of the B I H-gang were caught, and the truck stop was open as usual. There were so many visitors that someone had to oversee traffic. Tomas Johnson looked at Michael as he got up. Pleading with Michael to come help sort things out. This was a task that Michael had some experience with. He started to direct people to free seats.
Some of the booths near the shattered windows had been cordoned off. Glaziers, painters, and carpenters were already repairing the restaurant. But this meant that not all the booths were available for guests. Michael improvised a few standing tables and served the waiting guest some fresh coffee and a kind word.

After the lunchtime rush hour, Mike and Tom rejoined their group. His father and stepfather talked animatedly with Brandon, Vincent, and Conner. On Friday, the Kumsukba twins had been roped into cleaning Hardy's gay nightclub named 'the Galaxy'. Preparing it for the grand reopening on Saturday evening. The group wanted to celebrate the engagement of Tomas and Michael there. Having some fun with the horny twinks. Everyone was ecstatic. Even though the 39-year-old Oscar Cox felt a bit like an outsider. He was a fair few years older than the rest.

Oscar seemed to need a bit of alone time with his son. After all, he and Michael had twelve years of lost time to catch up on. So Tomas suggested: "Why don't you take Ox and Ron to your place, Mike... I will pack my stuff and join you later..."
Mike saw Brandon's face fall. So Michael invited him to join the two. This surprised his father until Mike explained: "Brandy has been my mentor since I was fifteen... My role model... So I guess we might hear his side of my story as well..."

The four men jumped in Mike's hot hatchback. Virtually racing to Michael's new home. When Mike turned off the main road into Bush street, he saw that the entire neighborhood had been decorated. Flags were flying proudly. Burned patches of grass and shrubs had been removed. Even some gay-pride flags waved in the late summer breeze. That made Michael J Cox's gay heart beat faster. Hardy Simons had also pulled out all the stops. His large flagpole had three giant flags in top. A huge American flag. With an enormous leather pride and a gay pride flag on either side. They fluttered high above the houses of the Bush street neighborhood.

Mike walked over to Hardy. Simons was chainsawing his burned hedges. Asking him: "Hey,... Mister Simons... How's things?..."
"Hi, Mike... Call me Hardy, boy..." he answered joyfully. Glad he could stop working on the burned shrubs and conifers for a moment.
"Everything is going great here... Park Maintenance is coming with a tree-shredder tomorrow... So this needs to get done today... Tomorrow we're going to clean my club... I expect you to drop by Saturday for the grand reopening around ten... You are going to be our guest of honor..."

"Ha, Am I now?... I was about to ask you if it was okay for my two dads and some friends to celebrate my engagement with Tomas Johnson there..." said Michael. Feeling a little disgusted at the demanding tone of voice from Hardy Simons.
"Yeah... Of course, it is... How many tickets do you need?... You do realize the Galaxy is a gay club, don't you?... And they do more than dance there..." asked Hardy.
"Yep... The men and I are all on the same team, Hardy... And talking about teams... I do hope we are okay, though?... I mean... I said earlier I was going to train with Vinney... And not ride with Steel and his gang... But I did not mean any disrespect by that... It's more of an age difference thing..." This was a bit of a lie. Michael could not stand the dominating attitude of both men. They took, without giving back. And Mike hated that.

"Right... No worries... The gym invitation still stands too... So how many VIP tickets do you want?..." asked Hardy Simons. Watching Michael do a silent headcount.
"Assuming Vinney and Con-man don't need tickets, I count six... Tom and I, my dad and his man, Roy, and Brandon... But... Hummm... Hardy... I don't like to be the guest of honor... I don't want to draw that kind of attention to myself..." said Michael a bit worriedly.
"Well,... That's not going to work!... Because the Mayor and the Chief of Police are going to give you-..." But Michael stopped Simons in his tracks.

"FUCKING HELL NO!... I don't care what they want!... I just want to check out your club... Vincent told me about it... I want a cock or two up my ass... Not some bigshots that want to publicly praise me and stick feathers up my butt... Last night was a team effort... Who the hell decided this anyway?... I prefer people to talk with me first about shit like this... I like my resemblance of privacy... So, HELL NO!... And you may quote me on that!... I will not cooperate... Keep your VIP tickets, Simons!... We'll buy our normal tickets at the door..." said an irate Michael to the buff club owner.

"Don't be stupid, boy!... I've had it with your defiance!..." called Hardy after Michael. Mike had already walked back to Brandon, Ronald, and Oscar. The men had heard the entire conversation from across the street. They agreed with Michael that getting this kind of public attention wasn't a smart thing to do. Even if all the religious nut-jobs were caught. 

Brandon calmly suggested: "Check your phone for missed messages, Mike... And your mailbox... Maybe the city has left you a letter... Then you can call them off..."
"That's right, Mikey... If you don't want to go to the club... Then we can celebrate at the T-Bone motel... Although, I always wanted to visit the Galaxy... And don't worry about your ass, Mike... We will find a few dicks to fill it..." smirked Ronald Peterson.

Michael checked, but no one had informed him. This visibly infuriated the boy. Oscar Cox put an arm around his son and walked him up the driveway. Making comments on how lovely his house looked. He was clearly trying to distract Mike. The boy was trembling with suppressed anger. Ever the observant, Ronald said: "Send my brother a text... He can check with his boss... Make sure you will not get ambushed like that... The nerve of some people!..."

"Hahaha..." laughed Michael J Cox to his new stepdad. "... That coming from a guy that pulled his gun on me... Anyway... I think I will do that... I know I am out... But having my name publicly linked to the capture of the B I H-gang is stupid... It will only draw more of those idiots to town... Come on in, guys... Make yourself at home..." said Michael to his new friends.

Mike talked with the men. Handing them a few beers. Sitting down next to his father, Mike spoke about his life. Getting interrupted by the occasional question from his dad. Or the bashful comments from Brandon. But Oscar did not seem to mind the introduction to sex that Brandon had given Mike when he was underage. In fact, he only laughed and hugged Michael tighter. "Like father, Like son..." Oscar smirked dirty.

When it was Ox's time to explain what had happened to him over the last decade, a lot became apparent to Michael. The state had removed Mike from his father at the age of six. The last time the two met was at the age of eleven. Right after that, Oscar Cox was taken to jail for something stupid. He met Ronald Peterson in the prison shower. Ron made Ox his bitch. Rather than getting angry, the two actually fell in love in jail. They got married a few years later and started driving for the same company. Doing long-haul cross-country deliveries together.

The doorbell rang as Michael made some snacks for the group in the kitchen. It was Tomas Johnson. Brandon called: "I got it..." as he let Tom inside. Mike listened from the kitchen as Tomas sat opposite Oscar and Ronald in a swivel chair. He started to explain how he met Michael and how Mike helped bring down the B I H-gang. Revenging the death of his former lover, Robert Preston. Telling Ox, Ron, and Brandon how it was love at first sight, he said: "I am sorry to put it this blunt... But... I fucking love that little stud... I wish he would hurry up with those snacks, though... I could eat his ass!..."

Mike nearly choked with laughter as he heard Tomas talk about him like that. He got undressed in the kitchen. Wearing nothing but a T-Bone apron, he took a large tray of snacks back into the living room. He bent over and placed the tray in the middle of the coffee table in front of Tomas Johnson. With his ass in the air, Michael took a few steps back to his lover. Presenting his naked ass to Johnson. He grabbed Tom's shirt and pulled his face between his buttocks. 

When he felt Tom's tongue flick over his back door, he looked up at his father and Ronald. Letting out a long moan: "Oh... yeah... That's the spot... Dinner is served... Eat me out, Tommy... Fuck yeah... Damn... You put those pornstar skills to good use..." Well, needless to say. This display of horniness had a profound effect on Ronald. But even Oscar and Brandon did not mind it at all. All three 30-something-year-olds had whipped their cocks out. Beating them off hard and fast. 

Ronald called: "Damn... Good service, boy... I wish you would park that ass on this black beauty, though... I'll drive a load in there..." Ronald had his eight-inch firmly to hand. Wiggling it lustfully in the air.
"Ha... You really are Roy's little brother..." Laughed Michael naughtily. "But hell yeah... If TJ doesn't mind... I'd be glad to take a ride with you, stepdaddy..." Mike looked straight into his father's soul. And the dirty trucker just grinned and nodded. Tomas smacked Mike a couple of times on the ass and pushed the boy off his face.

Mike strolled around the coffee table. Facing away from Ronald, Mike parked his ass on the raging ebony hard-on. With a loud grunt, Michael lowered himself over the raw dick. It was much wider than Ron's older brother. But the boy took him well. With all eight inches deep inside, he stopped moving. Michael lay back and put an arm around Ronald's neck. Moving his lips to Ronald's, slobbering his stepdad dearly. Grunting: "I like this gun much better than your Smith&Wesson..." 

His father stuck a wet, spit-lubed hand under the apron. Stroking his boy hard and fast. Brandon used his fingers to pinch a nipple and lick Mike's earlobe. Groaning hot sweet nothings into Mikey's ear. Tomas just sat across from the group. Lustfully jerking himself off, drinking the alcohol-free beer Mike had provided.
It took all of Michael's willpower not to explode. This was a reunion and a half. Hotter than the sun. But precisely what the doctor ordered. After a good ten minutes, the boy pushed himself off and twerked his horny ass back to the kitchen. Coming back dressed in the metal-pointed cowboy boots and his leather jeans. Mike's bare chest was sweaty, and his nipples were quite red. 

Tomas started to laugh as he saw Mike coming back from the kitchen: "Damn... Now that's how I like to see you, Mike... Bare-chested and wearing Robert's kinky boots... It's a shame the T-Bone doesn't have exotic dancers... Or I'll hire you as one..."
Red-faced Michael sat on the arm of Tomas's chair. With a trembling voice, he asked: "What do you mean?... Robert's boots?... I found these in the garage..."

"Right... The stuff you found was Robert Preston's, my Ex... That's why I felt so comfortable in your upstairs playroom... I just realized it... And I guess we drove Robert's dirt bike yesterday... When you rescued me from the T-Bone... Boy, it felt great to sit on that thing again... Thanks, buddy..."
"Tomas... Ohh?... I am so sorry... I did not mean to bring back all those memories..." said Micheal apologetically.
"No need to be sorry for that, Michael... We can make new memories... Seeing you just made me think lovingly back to Robert Preston... But you do look good in those boots and jeans... I think you should wear them to the Galaxy on Saturday..."

"I can't dance in these!..." grinned Michael. "But I will think of something... First, I want to make damned sure I am not getting ambushed by the Mayor and the Chief of Police... Or put on the spot by fucking Hardy Simons... With his VIP guest of honor nonsense!..." Mike explained to his lover what Hardy had said. Tomas agreed that getting Mike's name in the papers would not be wise. 

Mike texted sergeant Roy Peterson. His response was instant. He called Michael back while Ox and Ron chatted some more with Brandon and Tomas. Infuriated, Officer Peterson said that he would call off City Hall and the Chief of Police. But Roy also explained that he had no idea what Hardy had in store for Michael. Saying that the boy would have to handle Hardy himself.

That evening, over a delightful Chinese dinner, Mike asked his father: "Does it hurt much... Getting a tattoo?... I was thinking of getting something like yours too..." And he questioned Ronald: "What about getting pierced?... I am not going for a nosering... But maybe a nipple piercing or two... I don't want Ellise Grunnings, my new boss lady, to get too scared of my new look..."

The guys looked in wonderment at little Mikey Cox. Tomas looked from Oscar's tribal tattoo to Michael and exclaimed: "Oh hell... Yeshhh... Do get a tattoo... That's a great idea, Mike!... Do you know Chandan's tattoo work?... He's an artist... He'll hook you up..."
"Ha... Been there... Done him..." joked Michael.
"Of course... I should have known that... Dirty fucker!... You!..." laughed Tomas.

After a long but lovely evening, Michael drove Ox, Ron, and Brandon back to their trucks. TJ and Mike would pick them up on Saturday evening. There was no way in hell the guys wanted to miss the grand reopening of Hardy's gay nightclub. Although, Michael still had a few misgivings about the leather bodybuilder and his gang.

Tomas had already moved his personal belongings into Mike's master bedroom. When Michael returned, Tom suddenly realized he had not asked Cox if it was okay for him to move in. Michael just took one of the suitcases and put it on the leather-covered ottermen at the foot of his kingsized bed. Winking at Tomas, he said: "It's okay, honey... I'll make some space in my wardrobe... I would love you to live here... Get to know you... Do you sleep on the right or the left side?..."

Utterly relieved, Tomas flung his arms around Michael. Saying: "Fuck, I do love you, Mike... You read me like an open book..."
"Ha... I do hope it's a porn cartoon... I like those..." joked Michael.
The guys put Tom's clothes away and went to bed. Too exhausted to do more than kiss each other good night. 

The following day Tomas left before breakfast. Mike could sleep in a bit. Only having the appointment with Steel to sign the papers and buy the house. He got up around ten on Friday, showered, shaved, and dressed. It was a formal occasion, thought Michael. So he wore his office attire and the new plain leather bomber jacket.
Michael was a little nervous. So rather than eat lunch alone, he left early and ate at Grunnings. He walked up Main street past Chandan's. Mike looked in awe at the Galaxy across the street. The former theater and cinema was a grand building. The outside had already been cleared from all the graffiti tags. All the hoardings had been removed, and the boarded-up windows reopened. Mike saw the Galaxy in all its glory for the first time. It was a marvel to behold. 

From the corner of his eye, Michael saw Chandan Skanker cleaning his shop. He knocked on the door. This startled Chandan a bit, but he let Mike in.
"Hi, sir... Do you have a sec?..." asked Michael.
"Sure, if it's only a sec... I have another appointment in a few minutes... What can I do for you, darling?..."
Mike explained that he saw his long-lost father again and had admired his tribal dragon tattoo. The boy explained that he wanted something similar.
"Don't copy... Innovate!... A tribal is a bit outdated, ain't it, boy?... You are much sexier than that, dear!..." said Chandan disappointedly.

Mike smiled and sighed: "Yep... I want something much more elaborate... I want a bit of art... I was thinking something like... Uhmmm... A clockwork background as if the skin was torn open... And then an inverse dragon tattoo over the top of it all... The dragon's head on my right pec... Its wings on my shoulder and its body wrapped over my upper arm... Is that sexy enough for you?..." asked Michael of the tattoo artist.
"Jesus!... Yeassss!... That's a hot vision!... Color or grayscale?"  asked Chandan excitedly.

Michael explained his vision, and Chandan Skanker immediately showed Mike some of his example books. The two pictures that Michael selected got Chandan hot and bothered. He leaned back in his chair. The 32-year-old Indian man had actual tears of joy in his eyes. Showing Mike the boner in his thin linen pants.
"Ha..." laughed Michael. "I guess you want to do the job then?..."
"Hell yeah... I love a challenge!..." said Chandan warmly. He took some measurements and made a rough sketch.

Mike heard a clock chime. It was already 01:30 o'clock, and Steel's office was a bit of a walk away. Michael did not want to be late for the biggest deal of his young life. So he said to Chandan that he would look forward to the sketch. Making an appointment for mid-morning the next day. Mike gave Chandan a kiss and left with his head held high.

Michael J Cox arrived just in time. Steel's receptionist smiled and let the boy into Steel's office. Rick Steel was flanked by two other guys. Mike had seen them in Hardy's gym a few days back. This boasted nothing good, thought Michael worriedly. But the realtor was cordial and calm. Dressed to the nines in a bright blue-gray three-piece suit, flamboyant purple shoes, and necktie. The same could not be said for the other two. The one on Steel's left was looking livid. Miller grunted his name as Mike shook his hand. The man was Steel's attorney. The stern guy on Steel's right was the notary.

The lawyer handed Michael a folder with the contracts and some other paperwork. As the well-trained admin he was, Michael looked at the paperwork. Quickly coming to the conclusion that the list price had not changed. Saying dryly to Steel: "I thought we had agreed the price would need to be lowered twenty-five hundred... Short-term memory not what it was, Steely?... And you said I could live at number twelve rent-free... But I paid you four dollars for it..." Mike shoved the papers back across the table to Steel. Folding his arms, defiantly looking at the three guys.
"What?... That's not the right contract Miller!..." shouted Steel angrily at the attorney. He handed Michael a different folder with much more documentation. 

Mike looked it over and said: "That's better... Shall we do this then?..." He handed over a wad of cash and started to sign the paperwork. The notary stamped the three sets of contracts and handed one back to Michael. After a warm handshake, the deal was done. Steel congratulated Cox on his purchase. Michael J Cox could call himself the owner of Bush Street number twelve and a fucking cool Yahama dirt bike.

As Michael stood up to go, Steel stopped him. "Mike... Are you going to the Galaxy on Saturday?..."
Steel handed Michael four dollars and ten golden VIP tickets to the grand opening and grinned: "Sorry about all of this... Hardy just doesn't get you... But I want you to be our guest... Don't worry about getting exposed... I've talked with the Mayor and Roy Peterson... You will get the hundred thousand dollar reward via a check in the mail..."
Michael's jaw dropped. He had forgotten all about that reward. When Mike came home, he found thank-you letters from the Mayor and the city's police department with a check.

Michael smiled and thought: "Ha... I am getting a house for free and some spending cash to boot... Coming here was a good move, after all... I need to remember to thank Brandon ass for making the suggestion... Without his help, none of this would have happened..."
Mike felt his stomach rumble and thought of Tomas. The two never formalized Mike's job at the T-Bone. But he liked helping out there. It reminded Michael about his college days. Working in the cafeterias and restaurants on campus.

Thinking he could grab a bite to eat and help with the evening rush hour. So he put on a T-Bone polo and took a clean apron with him to the truck stop. Michael parked at the back of the T-Bone restaurant. To his delight, all the graffiti tags on the motel had been painted out, and the two burned rooms had been cleaned up. Even the fencing had been removed. Giving the T-Bone a much friendlier appearance. Walking into the kitchen, Michael greeted the sous chef and the staff. Asking them where he was needed most. Chef Peter had Fridays off, and the kitchen was bustling. Mike washed up and started chopping vegetables, making sauces, and cleaning pots and pans for the brigade.

One of the junior cooks had slightly overcooked some meat and was about to throw it away. Mike stopped him. Handing him a plate, scrounging some potatoes and french beans from the others. "Waste not, Want not..." laughed Mike as he gobbled up a quick bite to eat. After that, he walked into the restaurant. Grabbing a drink and beaming at the front-of-house staff. The boy took a toat and started to clear tables. Chatting with the waiters and the truckers as if they were old friends. 

Later that evening, Mike found Tomas doing the books in the office. Michael had brought Tom a cup of soup and some croutons. He told Johnson he now owned the house, about the reward money, and his idea for a tattoo. What Mike had not told him was a surprise they would have to pick up on Saturday. Tomas said he had taken the rest of the weekend off. He wanted to see what Chandan had cooked up for Michael. 

It was well past midnight when the two twinks finished the admin together. Setting up a work schedule for Mike. It fitted around the hours Michael worked at Grunnings. Leaving him a few days to spend with Tomas. The boys had even discussed plans to expand the T-Bone. Turning the motel into a proper budget hotel with a swimming pool and sauna. Changing the truckstop diner into a restaurant with a bar and living room for the truckers and the hotel guests. They even dreamed up what the new restaurant's decor could look like. The two twinks drove - each in their own car - back to Mike's place. Mike could not stop grinning as the two undressed and stepped into bed. Too tired to do more than kiss a bit, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Around ten on Saturday, Mike and Tomas strolled into the city center. Doing some clothes shopping, buying some extra toiletries for Tomas, and picking up a mysterious package. When they arrived at Chandan's, the man looked expectantly at both guys. Congratulating them on their engagement. Chandan showed Michael the sketch of the dream tattoo. Mike could not quite wrap his head around the sizeable two-dimensional image. But Tomas was ecstatic. 

"Okay... Strip off and stand in front of the mirror, darling..." called an overexcited Chandan Skanker.
"Hmmm... What?... Now?..." asked Mike stupidly.
"Yes... Now!..." laughed Chandan dominantly.
Mike reluctantly did as he was told and removed his t-shirt. The tattoo artist took a sheet of carbon paper, tracing the sketch onto Mike's arm, shoulder, and pec. When he revealed the result, Michael was in shock. Even without the clockwork details, it looked marvelous. The boy had a look on his face that asked: "When can we do this?..." without using the words.

Chandan grinned: "I made a henna stencil... Then you can sport it this evening... You can see how the rest reacts to it... Before you get the actual tattoo..." Chandan rubbed a lotion on Mike. Draping the stencil over his shoulder. Transferring the detailed image onto Michael's skin. Even the tattoo artist was stunned by the art he had created for Mikey. Chandan wrapped the arm and shoulder up so the Hanna could do its thing. Instructing Tomas on how to clean his man for tonight's party.

At home, Tomas asked: "What was that mysterious package about?... Can I see?..."
"Ah... That... it's nothing..." laughed Michael mysteriously. He pulled the wrapping paper off and handed the live-edge wooden board face down to Tomas Johnson. When Tom turned it over, he got weak in the knees. The large wooden house-sign read: 'Preston's Place #12', the sign commemorated the previous occupant and Tom's late boyfriend, Robert Preston. It brought Tomas Johnson to tears.
"Don't you like it, Tom?..." asked Michael a little worriedly.

"I... I love it... Oh, Mikey Mike..." stammered Tomas lovingly. "... You are the best!..."
Michael winked: "I know I am... But you're pretty good as well... You should make some nasty gay porn videos... You got the looks for it..." The two men fell laughingly into each other's arms on the driveway. Spending the rest of the afternoon chatting. Texting his father and stepdad, calling Brandon and Roy, discussing what time they would leave and what they would wear.

The six guys had decided to go to the club after the grand reopening had taken place outside. Hoping to avoid the Mayor and Hardy. The men had dressed among similar lines. Black leather combined with casual white sportive clothes. Mike wore his favorite leather jeans and a harness. It was concealed by a sleeveless skin-tight white hoody vest. He had put on white Adidas sneakers from his college days. Mike had completed the look with a leather wristband, and a braided leather lace Tomas had bought for him. The buff henna tat was clearly visible.

Tomas wore white jeans, black boots, and a studded belt. A white denim jacket with a black leather collar and back. It could barely conceal TJ's bare chest. He had worn it in one of his kinkier porn movies, recalled Michael. Tom also wore a harness and a leather baseball cap.
Even his father and Ronald came in leather pants and frayed black and white checked shirts. Brandon and Roy had both opted for leather chaps over light jeans. And white t-shirts with arm and wrist bands. Roy and Ronald Peterson both wore their masterful Muir caps and sunglasses. Making them look as stern as they were sexy.

All in all, the powerful muscle men made quite a spectacle as they walked from their parking spot behind Grunnings to the nightclub. Figuring that parking near the Galaxy nightclub would be full. The six men bypassed the long line of waiting visitors, heading straight to the VIP entrance. With their golden tickets in hand, they got greeted like a rock band on a red carpet.

The building on the inside was even more opulent than the outside gave away. The former cinema foyer had two curved golden stairs arching up to the second and third floors. On one side was the wardrobe and on the other a large bathroom. Between the stairs stood an elaborately decorated bar with three massive golden chandeliers lighting the triple-height ceiling. Large double doors let down to the main theater hall via doors on either side of the lengthy foyer. The whole entrance looked like an affluent gentleman's club, with brown leather furniture and glass-topped tables. The Galaxy was nothing like the tiny gay clubs in Mike's college town.

Their tickets got checked by people who Mike had seen when he visited Hardy's gym. The size of grisly bears and dressed in black three-piece suits with a security pin on the left lapel.
Situated in the far right corner - on a raised platform - sat a dozen VIP booths. The guarded main booth at the top was occupied by Hardy Simons, Rick Steel, the Mayor, the Chief of Police, and some of Steel's biker friends. Mike gestured to his party to follow him up there. 

Oscar asked quietly: "Are you sure, son?... You don't owe them anything..."
"It's okay, dad... I want to give Hardy one more chance to lighten up... And pay my respects to the Mayor, the Chief, and Steel..." Muttered Michael to the group. "But stay close, guys... I am not brave enough to do this by myself..." With a deep breath, Mike plucked up the courage to walk up to the VIP booth. The two security guards let the six pass without issue. Hardy was stunned to see his neighbor, though. He jumped up and made to block their path, but Steel yanked him back on the couch.
"They are my guests, Hardy!... Behave, or get lost... One wrong word, and you're fired!... Do you hear me, Simons?..." said Rick Steel in a carrying whisper. This was to the surprise of the people in the VIP booth. It made Mike and Tom realize who was pulling the strings in this outfit. And it wasn't Hardy Simons after all.

Mike introduced himself and his friends to the Mayor, the Police Chief, and the rest. Finishing with Hardy Simons. Complimenting him on the excellent look of the Galaxy. Everyone was very friendly with Michael. Thanking him for his help and congratulating the boy on getting engaged. Making some lovely small talk with the six men. That is to say, everyone but Hardy Simons and his lawyer friend Miller. When Mike reached his hand to shake Hardy's, he got the cold shoulder. Steel nudged Hardy in the ribs. Snarling: "Remember?... Michael is a friend!..."

"THAT DEFIANT LITTLE SHIT IS NO FRIEND OF MINE!..." called Hardy in anger. Simons got up and looked at his posse, hoping they would follow. Oscar, Ronald, Brandon, and Roy were gearing up for a fight with the lot of them. It would be silly. Fourteen against six. But none of Hardy's gang moved. Instead, they glowered angrily at Simons. Well, long story short. That was the last Michael saw of Simons and Miller. 

But the odd reception made Michael change his mind. He did not want to be around negative people like that. Mike was here to celebrate, after all. Conner was whipping up the crowd. The group found a nice spot on the other side of the dancefloor, nearer the DJ-Booth and stage. Vincent spotted the party, and part of his band chatted with them for a while. The keyboard player asked about their favorite songs, and Vincent whispered to Tomas and Michael: "Guys... Mind if I give you two a hot lapdance later on?... I much rather do it to people I trust than those ass-grabbers out there..."

Tomas laughed: "Ha... only if you publicly stick that big black dick in my man's face..." Mike looked a little shocked and said in mock disgust: "Oh... are we playing that way, T-Man?... Well, in that case... Vinney... Pull him up the stage... Strip him and rail his ass publicly over a fuck bench... Show how real pornstars need to be used... Ha..."
"Seriously?... I would... But... But..." stuttered the 26-year-old Nigerian well-hung stallion Vincent Kumsukba.
"Seriously!... I would pay good money to see that!..." smirked Michael. "I am sure Tom can handle all brutal 11 inches of yours..." Tomas nodded hopefully.

"Damn... I was only going to flash my cock a bit... That's going to be a hot fucking floor show... Live porn on stage... But why not join us, Mike?..." asked Vinney.
"I got my job at Grunnings to think off..." said Michael calmly. "But I hear there is a lot more opportunity to fuck around backstage... I hope you and Conner will join us there... I want to feel all Conner's thirteen inches explode inside me..." murmured Michael hotly. So only Vincent could hear.
"It's a date!... Gang fuck at two then?..." laughed Vinney. The group of men nodded expectantly.
"Cool..." answered Michael. "... This is going to be a great evening..."

The six friends drank, ate, danced, and flirted. Watching Conner DJ, Vincent's band play, and the hot men and women around them in the club get hornier the longer the evening went on.
Mike spotted a young guy. He had been stalking Michael ever since they arrived in the Galaxy. A cool kid of 17. Wearing black army boots, black torn jeans, and a vintage leather jacket. The way the horny puppy followed Michael and the men around got a little annoying. 

Mike was dancing with Tom when he told him about it. Tomas said: "Ha... I see what you mean... I've seen that dude in the gloryholes at the truckstop... Go talk to him... Heck, take him backstage and fuck the crap out of him... I don't mind, stud..."
Michael grabbed his man. Driving his tongue aggressively into TJ. But keeping his eyes rigidly locked on the 17-year-old student. The kid averted his eyes away from the scene on the dancefloor. He blushed a little. But the bulge in his torn jeans started to swell rapidly. So much so that the cockhead poked out one of the rips.

Michael stomped over to the kid. He stood toe to toe with the boy and put a hand under his chin. A quick glance told Mike enough. This kid was into him. Tilting his head a little and pouting his lips, Mike moved closer. Their lips locked and parted, and they began slobbering each other. The kid was shocked when Mike stuck his thumb in the ripped jeans. He pushed the cock had back under the cloth. Michael moved the dick up toward his pubic area. Out of sight. Only to find that this unexpected touch made the thing harder. It left a wet spot on the jeans.

When the hot dick was hidden, Michael broke away. Saying: "Hi stud... I noticed you looking at me... I am Michael... Who are you?... Want to get fucked?..." Mike was deliberately rude about it. He wanted to see if this dude was just posing or actually ready for shit like that.
"Huh?... Oh... Uhmmm..." murmured the 17-year-old. "I think... I think..."
"Don't think!... I asked your name... Let's start there..."

"Oh... Sorry... Hi... I am John... I think you know my grandmother, Martha Stewertson... She works at Grunnings too..." said John sheepishly.
"Ah!... Now it all makes sense... Nice to meet your meat, John... A nice big tool you got there..." said Mike with a warm smile. Kissing the boy, groping his butt as he stroked the back of John's head. The people around them seemed to disappear into nothingness as the two got it on hard and heavy. After a while, John got adventurous too. Feeling up and down the leather-clad bulge of Michael. John was deciding if he could take Mike's pride and joy.
"The second question I asked, John... Want to go and get fucked?... No pressure... You're in control here..." said Mike. Observing John's reaction thoroughly.

"Not sure..." Answered the 17-year-old honestly. "I am not a virgin... But I never had a guy in there..."
"That is neither a yes nor a no... I am not going to offer again, bud... This is not about me wanting to get off... This is about you accepting who you are!... Your grandma told me you were gay... Are you or are you not?... Want to?... Or don't you?... Your choice..." said Mike clearly. But without putting pressure on John.

"Yeah... But I am a strict top..." called John over the music.
"You can't be until you know how to bottom..." said Michael knowingly. Without John's knowledge, Mike had dragged him onto the dance floor. Dancing and grinding their hips together. Observed by all the people around them. TJ moved toward John's back. The blond-haired trucker god Brandon to his left, and the ebony muscle stud Ronald Peterson to his right. They all pressed in on John. Ron and Brandon had grabbed the boy's hands. Guiding them over their exposed cocks. Tomas rode his concealed shaft against John's buttocks. 

Mike just looked John in the eyes and whispered in his ears: "Can I suck you off, John?..." Flustered, John conceded. There was no denying it. John wanted to get laid tonight. Mike undid John's belt and button jeans in the center of the dancefloor. He squatted down. Getting covered by his father and Roy Peterson behind him, Michael sucked John down. Getting helped by Tomas, forcing Mike's head over the kid's dick. While Brandon distracted the boy by slobbering his face. And Ronald pinching the boy's sensitive nipples under his vintage leather jacket. 

John was the first guy who lost his load on the dancefloor that evening. Michael stood up and shared the boy's cum with his man Tomas. He pulled a spare golden VIP ticket out of his jeans and handed it to John. Saying: "Here... This should get you backstage if you want to get laid tonight..." Mike winked naughtily and playfully slapped the flabbergasted John in the face, adding: "Say hello to your gran from me, John... Why don't you join us tonight?... I am sure we can find you a nice asshole to play with later..."

The seven guys found a booth near the stage. They ordered drinks and started chatting with John. The horny 17-year-old felt right at home. It turned out the kid knew of Tom's past endeavors as a pornstar. When John saw Michael tongue Tomas, he so wished to be in Mike's place. The other guys laughed as John spoke his secret wish out loud. Tom dropped an arm around John's back while Michael moved the kid's face. He asked Tom: "Here, make out with this one for a while..."

< Continued in chapter 9 >

Thank you for reading this story. 
Please, give it a Like or a Comment if you are so inclined. 
And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spunk! ;-)

(C) StrykerJ - 09-2022