The Downfall of a Banker

[u864443]

This is my first ever story, I hope you enjoy! Please be gentle!

I have an idea of where I am going with this story but would welcome your ideas and feedback.  I will try and incorporate them into future posts.

 

The Downfall of a Banker

 

I know the working class hates us. I am one of the 1%. Those people you see vilified in the press and in the movies. Working for only a few hours a day to make millions a year. Only existing in the rarified world of the best restaurants, bars and hotels. I had been blessed with good looks.  A sqaure jaw, flawless skin, blue eyes and raven black hair, 6 foot 3 inches in height. My muscles were honed to perfection in the gym. I am the ultimate version of masculinity. I had even featured on the cover of Men's Health as evidence you could balance, work, partying and gym. Obviously many women threw themselves at me.  I had a different one in my bed most nights. However I never seemed to be able to keep a relationship. I worked at a well known investment bank in the city. Lived in a beautiful apartment in the best location and also had a small country estate to escape to when I needed to take a break from the city. You see not only did I make millions, but I also had inherited great wealth.  I was born with the proverbial silver spoon.  As such I had grown up with everyone respecting me and quite literally intimidated by my presence. I had greatly enjoyed using this power to get my way in the world. What I thought of as persuasion, most would consider bullying.

 

However now I am in my early 30s and at the height of my power I am finding life less satisfying.  The endless parties, sex and hangovers were starting to interest me less. The succession of models left me less sexually satisfied. I sometimes found I couldn't get a hard on. At first I started to blame the alcohol and partying.  However one day on my way to work I passed a building site. What I saw there would ultimately change my life ...

 

My usual driver had been ill and in a rare moment of compasion I had given him the morning off.  I decided to rough it and use public transport. I am not sure what I was thinking that morning.  Possibly I was also ill and not thinking clearly. As a result I had to walk the last part to work. Just around the corner of my bank there was a  building site.  It seemed to be run by skinheads.  Their heads gleaming from where they had shaved their hair down to the scalp.  I shuddered thinking about how I could never do that to my thick, glossy expensively cut hair which was treated and trimmed on a weekly basis. The skinheads bodies and necks were also covered in ugly tattoos, certainly I would never mare my beautifully soft, tanned and luminescent skin with such vulgar designs. They were dressed in filthy ripped clothes with Doc Martin boots laced up to their mid calfs.  By contrast I was wearing a £5,000 tailored Jermyn Street blue suit, crisp handmade shirt with diamond studed cuff links, burgendy silk tie and handmade fine patent leather shoes. We could not be more different. At the same time my cock started to harden while listening to them talk in their coarse language. I couldn't understand what was happening to me. My erection was firmer then it had been in months and was clearly visible in my tightly tailored suit trousers. Why was this happening, I am so much better than them.  Clearly my dithering and potent erection had not gone unnoticed by the skinhead gang.  Not only were they the lowest scum of society but there were also clearly gay.  They were leering at me and shouting profanities about what they wanted to do my perfect arse, ripping open my suit pants so they could fuck me hard. They kept saying they were going to bend me over an oil drum, tie my hands, use all my holes, spit on me and then leave me naked tied up on the site for all to use. My cock was leaking so much there was a wet patch on the front of my trousers. I could not understand my response. My brain could not compute my reaction at all. I'm straight!! Sure there had been fumbles with classmates at my boarding school, one night I even sucked a mate off, but quite frankly who hadn't!! Even if I was gay I would never even think of going with someone from a lower social class. I quickly gathered myself and ran the rest of the way to work.

 

I spent the rest of the day totally distracted, thinking about what had happened that morning, imagining what would have happened if I had stayed. Even my boss noticed that I wasn't on planet Earth and sent me home. Thankfully it was Friday so I decided to immediately go out, meet friends, have a drink. Anything to basically distract me from what my mind kept flicking back to.  The weekend turned into a blur of parties, champagne and women. I threw myself at every attractive women. I must have bedded a dozen over the course of the weekend. However I could not get an erection for any of them. They all left disappointed. I ofcourse blamed the huge amount of alcohol I had drunk.  Many of them asked if I was gay, which I ofcourse denied, usually with a bouquet of profanities. However my nights were spent in tormemt. It didn't matter how much alcohol I drunk to make me pass out, every night I woke with the same image of me submitting to the un-named lead skinhead and his gang. Every night I would wake dripping in sweat as I ejaculated the biggest loads of my life. My silk boxers soaked through with my load, much larger than I had had with what I had thought was the most satisfying sex previously. I initially called in sick for the start of the week as I was not rested after my disjointed sleeping. However after a further day spent flipping between drunken oblivion and completely unsatifying sexual intercourse I decided I needed to return to the routine of work to try and re-establish my equilibrium.

 

I think my subconscious was in charge when I asked my driver to drop me off a little distance from work. He was shocked but I brushed him aside saying I needed some fresh air before work. Ofcourse I had to go past the same building site.  This time the skinhead foreman was on his own.  It was extremely early in the morning. My eyes caught his. He just stared intensely at me. I found my patent leather shoes were walking onto the site. As I came nearer to him, he just grabbed hold of my silk tie and pulled me into the most penetrating kiss I have ever had. The whole world stopped as I accepted his tongue into my mouth. His filthy hands grabbed hold of me, with one he cupped the back of my head, grabbed my hair to ensure his tongue went deeper into my mouth. He remarked the only benefit of my longish hair was that it was easier for him to control me. His other hand grabbed my pert bottom through my suit trousers so that all of my body was brought into him. I could smell him, a wonderful rich aroma of sweat and hard work. Suddenly he pulled away, my mouth felt empty, I leaned in to kiss him again. He stepped back out of my reach. He said I could not have any more until I showed him respect. At this point he just spat on my forehead. I was in complete shock at this. Ordinarily I would find this positively one of the most disgusting things that could be done to me. However as his saliva slowly dripped down my face all I could think of that he was marking me and how lucky I was to have received something from me. My erections was so hard. He obviously noticed this. He demanded I show him respect. I think my brain just froze, I could not think what to do. Thankfully he thought for me as he slapped me on my cheek, leaving a dirty mark on my alabaster skin, however it did the trick of firing up my brain to realise he had grabbed hold of my tie, was dragging me forward and down so that I was forced to sink to my knees in the filth of the building site mud. With his hand back gripping my hair he forced my mouth down to his boots. I understood what was needed as I showed my subservience by kissing his boots. Once I had demonstrated this submission he directed my face, via his forceful grip, to his crotch, where I started to lick his crotch. He then opened his zip and let loose his manhood. For the first time since my adolesence I looked at another mans penis. The glans of his penis glistened with pre-cum. It looked so tempting that I had to taste it. In that moment I accpeted his cock into my mouth. What I lacked in experience I made up for in enthusiasm as I gave him head. Within a few minutes I could feel the tension mount. Sure enough he soon proceded to cum, withdrawing from my mouth and spurting his sperm all over my face and hair which he then proceded to rub all over with his penis. At that same moment I also came without touching myself at all. Something that had never happened while I was conscious. This was demonsrated to him by how soaking wet the groin of my suit trousers were, this was by far the biggest and most satisfying orgasm of my life. Just after that moment a peace descended on me. It was only disturbed when my master then demanded payment. I was initally afronted  by this as I thought he had just played me for my money. I think my anger was also fuelled by the fact I also realised why so many of my female sex partners were so hurt after I dropped them as I in effect bought them for the night by taking them out for dinner and then plying them with expensive alcohol. I had viewed sex in the past as a transaction, however what had just occured was not a transaction for me, it was a life changing event. Therefore when he said he did not want my money I was actually relieved. However what he wanted was so much more than money could buy. He wanted my humility. He retrieved a knife fromt the belt of his jeans. I should have been frightened but for some reason I had implicit trust in him. He said that to prove my humility I needed to remove my outer skin of the corporate uniform. He slowly and delibrately cut off all of my clothes.He started with my tie, then proceeded to my suit jacket. He continued until everything was shredded including my underwear, shoes and socks. I just let him do it, I had never felt so at peace. I felt as though the weight of the world was being lifted off me. There I was in the middle of a building site being slowly and deliberately stripped. Anyone could look in. However as each piece of my fine clothing was being iretrievably stripped from me I felt more and more free, until I was left standing completely naked and re-born. Only at the end of this did I suddenly think of my exposure. Standing fully naked in the middle of a building site just as the city was starting to wake up. However my new master, as I viewed him, provided for my modesty in his own way. He gave me his own filthy jockstrap. I wore it with pride. He made it clear my first sacrifce was to demonstrate my humility, further sacrifices would be made on my way to the person that I desired and needed to become. Before letting me go he decided that with my arse on show it should be reddened. He bent me over his lap and sensuously spanked me, which lead to another erection. I therefore walked home  with nearly the whole of my body, especially my pert red bottom & dripping erection, exposed. People were looking at me as though I was crazy, but I felt so grounded, literally my bare feet in contact with the the filthy pavement, that realsim made me feel serene.

[Havemenow]

Hope the next chapter will be soon

 

[u864443]

The Downfall of a Banker Part 2

Initially after I got home, following my walk of shame, I had a small rebellion. My anger over how I could submit to not only a man but also someone so below me. This could not compute with the image I previosuly held of myself. I reacted with anger, anger at myself, anger at the world, anger at my surroundings.   Therefore my home bore the brunt of my anger. I smashed mirrors, vases and furniture. I ended in the shower trying despertaley to remove evidence of my previous diabolical encounter. However when I emerged from my long hot shower I looked at myself in the mirror after and seeing the marks on my face and on my body from my skinheads manhandling all I can do is imagine him standing behind me, holding me, controlling me, his hands like a drug roaming all over my body. At this point I knew I was hooked.

I knew I had to get to work. I finished my ablutions. Dressed in my finest suit. Coiffed my hair. Applied my moisturiser. Dabbed my aftershave. In one way I felt at the top of my game and in another I felt empty. On my way to work I again found my way to the bank diverted via the building site.  The man who had both brought out my humility and forever changed my view on life was no longer alone. He was now accompanied by the rest of his gang. He was surprised as I was to find myself here. He said to me was I back for more already? He continued that if I wanted more I had to come back here tonight after work, but I had to be  prepared that I will never be the same again and will never be able to go back to my previous life. I would have to follow each of his instructions, if I failed to do so then I would never see him again. I affirmed that I would indeed be back tonight and would follow his instructions. He called me his new BOY and I returned by calling him SIR.

I managed to get myself to work and I think because I knew subconsciously I may not be returning I worked like a trooper to tie up any loose ends.  I managed to get out on time. My driver was waiting for me. I returned home. I bathed and moisturised everywhere. As I caressed my skin I imagined it was HIS hands feeling me up. I then procrastinated for ages on what to wear. Even though I knew I would not be wearing it long I felt that I needed to dress up to impress him. My stomach was in knots as I made my way back to the building site in my brand new Bentley wearing a beautiful Gieves & Hawkes fitted Italian wool suit. 

I was in a state of extreme excitement and nervousness with adrenaline rushing through my veins. Although it was pitch black when I arrived. I could see a glow of bright outdoor lights and also oil drums with fires in them.  The gang of skinheads were arranged in a circle around HIM. He looked magnificent, so in control.  I affirmed when asked that I was willing to do ANYTHING for him. He said I now had to demonstrate this and I was not allowed to question what he told me unless I wanted everything to stop. He informed me I needed to undress. As I removed each article of clothing I was to place it in one of burning oil drums.  This was to symbolise the destruction of my old life before my rebirth, rising like a phoenix from the fire. As I watched each piece burn I should have been thinking of the expense of replacing my clothes and how I was going to get home, however what I was actually thinking was I was stripping myself of my past and I was so excited by my future. Every part of me was excited and erect. Once I was completely naked with nothing left to cover me he approached me and grabbed hold of my lush dark hair. He brought the knife, that he had previously used to tear apart my suit, up to the strands of hair that he held. I begged him not to do it, explaining my life would be over, I would be sacked and my family would disown me. He relented and took the knife away. He said he would not take my hair yet if I was not ready, however the day would come when I would beg him to make me bald.  He had originally planned to use my hair as payment for the pleasure I was about to receive. He said he would have to find an alternative source of payment. He asked how I came down to the building site. When he heard I drove he demanded that I bring my car onto the site. I realised I could not fight him again. I made a naked dash for my car. I was observed by a gang of youths smoking who jeered at me as I sat my naked posterior and felt the soft leather as it caressed my skin directly. As I pressed my bare filthy feet down on the accelerator I drove the car onto the site, trying desperately to avoid as many muddy puddles as possible. Despite my skilled driving the exquisite paintwork was never the less splattered with filth. I was extremely proud of my car. It was a limited edition version of the  Continental GT in Caspian Blue. I had used my quaterly bonus to purchase it. There were only 50 made around the world and I was only able to get my hands on one as my family had been buying Bentleys for decades.  I parked the car close to the skinhead gang. I emerged from the luxurious cocoon and despite my nudity I proudly stood in front of my car. 

My new Master could clealry feel and see how proud I was.  He was not happy. He had put a lot of effort in to try and rid me of my arrogance and yet it still kept re-appearing. He therefore decided that some creative styling was needed for my car to teach me a lesson. When I guffawed that I would certainly not let this happen, he very calmly but firmly gave me 2 options:

1. Either allow my head to be shaved or help him to "modify" my car and then he would give me the fuck I was craving or

2. Get naked back into my Bentley and we would never meet again.

What was I to choose?

 

[bjbottom]

Brilliant story mate!   Please continue this story.

[FFun2BB]

 

 

...who cares about the car or the hair when on the new journey of life ...

[north.mpls.guy]

Hope you continue!

[sexylilwhtboi]

So damn hot! Yes do please continue sir. 

[Guest]

Continue the story.I was to read what happens next.

[TomCockFag]

More please

[Guest]

Ja bitte die Geschichte fortsetzen