My heartbeat pulsed to the throb of the music. I felt it, both in sync, yet slightly out of sync as I walked through the club. I couldn't see from the strobing, but I could hear it. I could taste the smell on my tongue of bodies. Men. Sex.
I walked down a hallway, dimly lit, my eyes still struggling to find what I somehow instinctively knew was there. A door. I gripped the handle. It was warm, shaped like a penis. I squeezed and pushed, it swung open.
It was the size of a large bedroom, the thick walls muting the outside sound. Perfect for play.
When the door shut behind me, the four men looked up. Two were fucking. One was chained to a St. Andrew's cross. The other was in a corner, slowly stroking himself. Eight eyes on me. I gulped. I looked around. My dick throbbed, my frenum piercing rubbing right at the hem of my jockstrap. I could feel my cock leaking. Everyone was staring.
I gulped. I felt like the elephant in the room – literally, with my huge muscles. But I felt as weak as the demon warned. And, it excited me. My cock burped out more fluid.
The guy stroking his cock stood up. A slighter guy, no body hair to speak of, maybe an aged-out twink. As he approached, I felt a prickling all over and my hair receded; I glanced down. Smooth all over: parts of my body had become a canvas for his desires. He stopped a foot or two away and his mouth opened just a bit, though I'm not sure if he knew it. His pupils dilated as he looked me up and down, like he was appraising a racehorse, or looking at slabs of meat in a shop.
He inhaled deeply. His cock, which had gone down a bit during the walk, shot up. "Fuck, you smell like sex."
I glanced up. The guy on the cross was straining, trying to get away, and he was rock hard. And moaning. The two guys fucking were looking at me and sped up, nostrils flaring. I felt like prey. I whimpered.
"Turn around." My body obeyed … I wanted to obey.
He went from appraising meat to cakes. He grabbed my buttcheeks, squeezing. I moaned involuntarily. He jiggled them. I flexed involuntarily, the straps from the jock pressing into my skin, his hands groping. His finger, probing …
But it never went in. I whimpered again, shoving my butt back. He moved his hand away.
He announced loudly, "Guys, we have new meat tonight. I think this one's gonna be fun!"
He came around to my front and grabbed the leather crossing in front of my pecs. He pulled me and I went, willingly. He put me on a second St. Andrew's Cross, grabbing some leather restraints to fix my boots to it, and leather cuffs for my wrists. My head was jolted back as he clipped my collar to a support on the cross, then put some clips through my chest harness. My dick was leaking, my jock felt cold from the moisture, the piercing tight against it. I was still rock-hard, exactly what the demon promised.
"You're not even going to try to escape?" he asked dubiously, putting a ball gag in.
I shook my head.
"You look like you could pull that thing off the wall if you tried. Give it a pull," he asked. I don't know if he was taunting me or if he was trying to get more turned on. He was already leaking and his pupils were wide.
I pulled. The chains barely rattled. I tried again, straining, sweat dripping. Nothing.
"That's it? Fuck dude." He came up and pushed a finger into my pec, depressing it. Then he squeezed my biceps and triceps, his hands not even touching because my muscles were so big. But my muscles yielded.
He called out, "Muscle Mary here's weak as a pup!" He laughed. The other guy on the cross rattled his chains more loudly than I. The guys on the fuckbench stopped, standing up. The bottom was older, silver chest hair dotting him and a shaved head, while the top looked barely old enough to drink and looked like a stereotypical football jock.
The jock grabbed my harness and pulled, his head down and nose against my sternum. He sniffed, and then licked. He ran his hand down my abs and pushed, and they yielded. I tried to flex, and he pushed just a bit harder and he pushed them in, easily.
"You're right, he probably couldn't even bench press 100. What'd you do, fill yourself with hot air?" he laughed.
I looked away, I was so exposed and so humiliated. My dick popped out of my jock, still hard, and dripped. Onto the jock's foot.
He looked down. "Damn, bro. Guys, look at this!" He grabbed my jockstrap and ripped it off, his own muscles flexing beautifully. He looked up at me and winked, whispering loudly enough so the other guys could hear, "That's what real muscles can do." My cock, free, sprang forward, proudly standing out from my smooth crotch, bouncing, my balls heavy below. It dripped again.
"If you're not going to even stand up for yourself, we'll put this on." The original twink walked up to me with dildo gag, shoved it in, and my throat swallowed it willingly. He fastened it.
"Fuck. You can feel the gag in there, and he's not even choking. It's like his throat is trying to milk it. You gotta teach me that some time." I just looked at him, my eyes wide, and I wanted to say anything – everything – but I couldn't.
The jock felt up my balls, and I moaned into the gag, dripping again on his hand. He wiped it on my chest, and then grabbed a ball stretcher from somewhere. "Big nuts, let's see if we can get 'em hanging even lower tonight." He put it on. Then a second one. I tried to look down, but I couldn't. It felt heavy, but I loved it, being there, exposed for everyone to see. Humiliated and horny.
The silver sub came around, and he and the twink pulled. I was rolling, moving. The cross was free-standing. Here I was, splayed out, and being moved – a new level of helplessness as they all watched. I'd never felt so much at the mercy of others.
They stopped when I was in the middle of the room, facing the only door. I'm pretty sure that was intentional.
The twink to my front, along with the jock. The jock knelt down and started to look at my dick. I felt a prickling sensation. I tried to look around and from my peripheral vision, I saw myself in a mirror. My crotch hair was growing, pubes pushing out into a reasonably trimmed bush framing my cock. He didn't seem to notice, but he ran his hand over it, and I shuddered. It felt so incredibly erotic.
Then I hissed around the gag: The silver sub was behind the cross, and he'd pressed his finger in my hole. The pain was instantaneous and absolute, a white-hot lance that shot up my spine and caused me to strain again, massive chest and arm muscles standing out and flexing, but I knew they couldn't do anything.
I felt like I'd been tricked: All of it, every change, every promise – did he promise anything? – felt like a trap I'd walked into with my eyes closed and my dick brain being the only thinking bit of me.
Then he found my button inside – a big, beautiful button and all that pain rippled away like a wave into pleasure; I moaned around the gag, and the jock flicked my frenum piercing, causing me to moan again and my knees to try to give way … only, they couldn't. I heard a faint jingle of bells when he did it, the vibration running through me and causing me to feel even weaker for several more seconds, long after any normal bell would've stopped.
I felt the silver sub's finger withdraw, and I waited for the pleasure of his dick to return. I felt empty. Then I saw him in front of me. I desperately wanted him back, wanted him to shove his cock in. Instead, he held his finger up in front of my face. "Look at that." I looked – I couldn't help but look. "He's so fucking wet in there. Every moment, it felt like his hole was trying to milk me, and I can still see his throat is trying to milk that dildo. Seriously, you gotta teach me how to do that!"
I was about to moan again when I felt another searing pain shoot from my ass all through my body, and I felt like I was collapsing, only I wasn't because of the restraints. The twink had shoved his cock straight up into my hot, gay hole, and the jock took that moment to swallow my leaking cock while feeling up my balls.
The feedback of pain to pleasure from either side was excruciating, and I moaned as loudly as I could into the gag. The silver sub's dick got harder and his pupils dilated more: I might be gagged, but my voice still sounded like sex, and I'm sure I was sweating so my scent was permeating the room by this point.
Then, the pain – as before – rippled away and my hole emanated pleasure as he started to fuck me, a little deeper each time, and every nerve that had been rewired sending me ripple after ripple, wave after wave of pleasure. I finally felt him bottom out, and my hole gripped him, impossibly tight around his shaft, while it was still slick and he could move freely.
The twink groaned. "He feels like a virgin, but no virgin can take me. Fuck, his hole is gripping me like a vice, but taking me like it was made to take dick." He started to thrust, and each thrust in was matched by pushing me into the jock's throat, my balls with the heavy stretcher smacking his chin, going a tiny bit lower and lower, a tiny bit bigger each time.
I desperately wanted to cum. It felt like I was being edged, even though I knew I wasn't.
He started to pull out, and each time he re-entered – true to the demon's promise – it hurt. But the duration was shorter, just a searing flash of pain that gave way almost instantly to pleasure. The demon was right: I was beginning to like the pain. Not for the pain itself, but what it meant was coming in just a moment.
The jock stood up, letting my still-hard dick drop from his mouth. He rubbed my pubes again and I moaned into the gag, like each hair follicle was linked to a pleasure nerve. Was this another of the demon's surprises?
The silver sub knelt down and looked at my balls as the jock unfastened my gag, pulling it out. My mouth was open – slightly inhumanly open – and it was like I had forgotten how to close it. He shoved four fingers in, he mouth resting against my lips, and he felt the back of my throat. I felt – something – happen, and it was like my throat knew how to massage his fingers, and it did. He groaned.
I saw two other guys enter the room, look at me, and their dicks grew hard. They walked off to my side, and I heard them start to play with the other guy on the other cross.
Then I heard a noise from below: "Hey guys, his balls are really big. Like, bigger than when he came in. Maybe we should take the stretchers off?" I felt him run a finger down them and I shuddered. From the motion, it felt like the golf ball sized testes had grown to the sizes of duck eggs.
The twink pulled out and I whimpered around the jock's fingers. He came around and looked down. "I don't see any discoloration, but better safe than sorry. 'Safe Play Is Fun Play,' they say." I felt him unlatch something, and I felt cool relief around my nuts. One of them palmed them and holy moley they felt sensitive.
"I'm shocked he hasn't cum yet," the silver sub remarked.
"Yeah, we could let him cum and use him some more," the twink remarked. He stood up as the jock was still fucking my throat with his hand. "You wanna cum?"
"Ugh hugh!" I verbalized around the invading digits.
"Can you get him off?" the twink asked.
"Yeah." The older man started to stroke me quickly, playing around my frenum, sending shivers through me and vibrations from the jingling piercing. It only took a few strokes before my 8" cock started to shoot. And shoot. And shoot.
I moaned around the hand, I thrust into the other hand, and I felt my balls emptying with each shot. I couldn't see anymore, my eyes cinched tight, my useless muscles straining, and the smell of sex permeating the room more and more. I don't know if it was the musk, or if my cum did it, but it didn't matter. My cock had shot, and it was still hard. The silver sub had stood, and he was drenched, his eyes wide and his mouth open.
"Woah."
"Fuck." The jock looked at his sub. "I've never see anyone shoot that much and it smells … fuck."
The twink was already licking him. The jock looked like he was fighting some internal battle, and then he ran off and grabbed a towel and started to clean off the silver sub, working around the twink's tongue.
"That thing's lethal, bro. Johnny–" he turned to his sub. "Go to our bag, get the cobra. We'll see if it fits him." The sub ran off, and I couldn't see him anymore. "Bill," he turned to the twink. "Let's get this cum factory down and put him in the sling. I wanna try out that hole."
Between the two of them, they got me off the cross, and I was so weak I collapsed into their arms.
"Fuck. You really are weak."
I felt humiliated again, my cheeks burning, and my dick throbbing. The two pulled me over to a sling I hadn't seen before, and they helped me up, and then they shackled my arms and legs to the chains holding it up. Johnny had returned by then and held a small cock cage in his hand.
Oh no. Please, not that.
The jock held it up, making sure I could see it, and then he pulled my dick and balls through the ring – I don't know how they fit, they just did – and then held up the cage and moved it towards my dick. "Good thing we milked you, I don't know how your balls would've fit through this," he remarked.
I felt it, even if I couldn't see– ah, fuck. There was a mirror above me. I saw my dick shrink back into the tangle of pubes and the cage fit snugly around it. I felt a sharp pressure and saw a thick, 2 gauge Prince Albert shoot through the head of my dick and lock around the cage. It was trapped, and small, but pressing against the restraints, trying to impotently push its way out.
There I was, lying in a sling – chained to a sling – in a seedy (I assumed seedy) back room at a gay club, my giant, meaningless muscles straining against them, while my now-tiny dick by comparison was snug in someone else's loaned cock cage, my huge balls dangling below. A tight leather harness across my chest, and black leather boots half-way up my calves, looking like something someone might wear if they were going down a chimney. This is what Santa's brother had done to me.
The silver sub – Johnny – came up first and shoved his dick in my hole. I screamed in pain, only for two moments later to feel pleasure radiating out as my dick tried to get hard again. He thrust as I swayed in time to it, while the jock stood by smiling, arms crossed over his powerful chest, and the twink felt up my pecs. I prayed to any being that might be listening that he wouldn't go near my nipples.
I felt a hot fluid spray into me, my newly sensitive hole able to feel every single thing going on inside – every pulse, every contraction, every shot – as my hole milked him until he withdrew, panting. I felt hollow, empty, until the twink – Bill – came around and fucked me again – "Gotta finish what I started" – and sprayed, his cum joining Johnny's. He withdrew, and I felt cum leaking out of my tight hole until it closed up again, sealing their juices in with mine.
I saw more guys approach, watching. Stroking themselves or others. The jock entered next, and I howled as he breached my hole, then I moaned by the third stroke. Then, the thing I dreaded more than anything else happened.
Johnny found my nipples.
Under his hands, I could feel and see them grow, pulsing – literally, fucking, pulsing – as they grew, pushing outwards at least a half inch long, and half an inch again wide. They tingled with sensitivity, especially now that my dick was locked up, and then I had a sharp intake of breath as I felt two sharp pricks. The bars had appeared, the balls on either end looking like a hex dumbbell. They were huge and fat. Obscene. Sensitive. They reached their peak. That meant …
That was one of my last coherent thoughts. My vision blurred, and I saw outlines. Fuzzy people. Nipples hard. Sensitive. Brain … not braining.
I struggled. I tried to move my arms. Chains rattled. Right, I was locked in. Cock. Need cock. Thrusts in my hole: Pleasure.
My head thrashed from side-to-side. "Dick! Need dick!" Someone shoved their cock in my mouth. I swallowed. Milking it. Greedy. It grew and shot. The guy pulled out. Cum leaking on my tongue, lips, cheeks. I tried to lick it up. "Cock!"
Another dick entered my mouth. A new guy was at my hole. Pain turned to pleasure. Nipples were pleasure. Someone played with them. Many someones. Licking, sucking, flicking. Each flick sounded a ringing bell, tingly. Did anyone else hear the bells?
Dick in my mouth. Heat radiated down my throat. Dick was gone, then another came in. Huge. My mouth opened wide, felt unhinged. I sucked and licked. My throat milked it. It shot. "More!" Another dick entered. I sucked. Pleasure from my chest, my hole. Cum in my hole, emptiness from my hole, sharp pain, then rolls and waves of pleasure.
Another cock. More. Anything – everything. I felt their pleasure. My body tried to accommodate. Hole a little looser. Throat a little tighter. Tongue a little fatter. Dick still straining.
Someone pulled a dumbbell through my nipple. Pleasure radiated. More than before. Someone did it to the other. Joy radiated through me, my throat, my hole, my nipples … bypassing my dick. Dick was for show now. Like my muscles. I was a piece of meat to be used. I loved it.
I don't know how long I was like that. Eventually, the emanations from my nipples calmed. Someone was standing near me and had their dick in my mouth. I was nursing it, like a calf to a mother's teat. I felt a release of pressure, and the piercings through my nipples were gone. I looked up. It was the jock again. Still there. I moaned around his dick and he shot down my throat. I felt some sanity – some cognitive ability returning. I glanced in the mirror, and my nipples were smaller. Still huge by normal standards, but nowhere near what they were before.
The constant sex was abating.
The jock pulled out of my mouth, large dick soft by this point. I looked back in the mirror. My chest was covered in hair, my limbs dark. Curls were up my throat – the pattern I'd never be able to hide under a normal shirt. It thinned over my brick-like abs to a trail, leading to a spreading bush. My denuded balls stood out, stark, against it, my cock still lost in the forest.
I looked around the room. The twink was gone. A few other guys were packing up, cleaning some of the equipment. Most were clothed again. The silver sub was on a bench, passed out. The jock yelled at him, and he brought me a towel. They both unshackled my arms, and I grabbed the towel and started to wipe myself off of cum and spit and sweat. They undid my legs, and my lower limbs collapsed down.
The jock went down to my crotch and studied it. He put his hand on the cage, and I felt a release of pressure as the Prince Albert dissolved away. He pulled, and the cage came off, and then he pulled my dick and balls through to get the ring. He handed them to Johnny who went back to their bag, as my cock immediately sprang up hard, its full 8".
He looked at me and let out a loud breath. "Fuck bro. That was amazing. You were kinda out of it for the last hour but kept asking for more dick. You were insatiable. Don't be a stranger here. We try to come about once a week."
He walked away and packed up with Johnny, and they walked out of the room. I gingerly stood up, my legs weak. I wobbled over to a bench to sit for a few moments while the last of the guys packed up.
One hung back. Finally, I looked up at him. The guy looked like he was 20, maybe old enough to drink, or old enough to have a passable fake ID. He was watching me. I raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" I asked.
He shuddered a teeny bit, as did I. I forgot about my voice.
He smiled and walked slowly over to me. "I know what you are."
I looked at him, confused. "Huh?" As he came over, I felt a tingling all over. I looked at myself quickly, and the hair on my limbs and under my arms thinned, as did my chest hair until it was a nicely trimmed pattern of soft black whirls, fading below my pecs, to reappear in a thin treasure trail leading to my pubes that were now tightly groomed.
"I don't know the details. Those will be fun to figure out. But I know enough about the fae that I know someone did something to you."
"Look, I don't know what you mean." I started to get up. He held out a hand and gripped my arm. I tried to get away, but my muscles were useless.
"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you. I have a proposition for you."
I sat back down.
"Come home with me. I don't see any other bags here, so I'm guessing you're new to this. And they just dumped you here with nothing. Do you know your name?"
"Of course I know my name, it's—" I thought. "It's—" I racked my brain.
"Do you know where you live?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Blank. What the fuck had he done to me?
"I'm guessing this was punishment for something. Anyway, my proposition: Come home with me. My dad bought me a house. I have a trust fund. I'm bored as fuck. Come home with me, and, well … let's have some fun. I'll take care of you. All you have to do is keep being this" he gestured up and down my body with his hand.
Then, he stood up. "Or, good luck getting home. Wherever that is." He started to walk towards the door.
I thought quickly. Did I really have other options?
"Yes."
He stopped walking, and he swiveled around, a grin plastered on his youthful face. He went over to his bag and threw me a jockstrap and a tank top. "Put these on. It's fucking cold out, but it's better than nothing, and nothing else I have here will fit you. I doubt that shirt will, so try not to flex with it on. My car's close."
I put on the clothing, my dick causing me to shudder as it passed under the jockstrap, mostly contained by the material and elastic. I tried the tank top, and I finally managed to get it on. The seams ripped on the arm holes, and it went down to just above my navel.
"Good. Follow me." I stayed where I was, just an extra beat. He swiveled around, anger flashing across his face. "Follow. Me. Now. This is your last chance, then you're on your own. Really, is anyone else going to give you a better offer?"
He was right. There was no one here. I had no ID, no name, no idea where I lived. I gulped. I walked up to him like a puppy, and he smiled again. He took my hand and we walked through the door.
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