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Really Bad Decisions


Guest ericbb99

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Guest ericbb99

(Part 11... this is a long one... and the last one I have planned...)

As I pulled up to the parking lot, my palms were sweaty. I was shivering. It wasn't cold, but I was shivering. I'd had a couple panic attacks anticipating the night's events already. My anxiety was high.

The parking lot was small, and unfortunately full. There was another small lot across the street that was full too, and there was a lot of street parking in the area, but lots of cars. It's ok, I didn't mind parking a little bit further away and walking. I figured it would help psych me up. And I was early anyway, so it didn't matter. I found a parking spot about a block down, put the car in park, and took the key out. I looked at myself in the mirror. Was I really going to do this? Did I have a choice?

I logged into Grindr one last time to see if he had sent me any messages. Just one. Predictable, but terrifying: "If you don't show, I will fucking ruin you. I will destroy you. It'll be worse than if you did show up by the time I'm done with you. Hurry up, faggot." I took a few deep breaths and decided to do it. I stepped out of the car.

I was wearing athletic shorts, a white t-shirt, flip flops, and my jock strap underneath. I started to put my phone in my pocket, but on second thought, decided to leave my phone and wallet in my car. Better I didn't have anything with me, I thought to myself. I coiled up the belt I was supposed to bring and stuck it in my pocket. It was bulky in my athletic shorts, but I didn't figure that was the bulge anyone would be looking at. I felt like I was having an out of body experience as I walked toward the building. Heart racing, breathing hard and fast, no feeling in my fingers, still shivering a little bit. I couldn't believe I was doing this.

I walked into the door and up to a window. The man on the other side was 40's, brown hair, thin, and attractive in a "cocky asshole" kind of way. "Are you even 18?" he said as he looked up from folding some towels. I assured him I was and gave him my ID. "Are you here for the party?" he asked. I said I wasn't, and he started to explain that there was a group that had rented the place out that day. I couldn't help but be relieved. Michael would understand that for sure. But quickly, some other guy came up and whispered something in his ear. He turned back to me and said, "Oh, my mistake, the party group is tomorrow. You can go on in." "But I haven't paid yet," I protested. The attendant explained that first timers get in free. Seemed odd, but whatever. He buzzed me through a second door and I found the locker room down a hall. I opened the door and found it empty. How weird. This place was dead for having so many cars outside.

I looked at my watch. It was just a few minutes before 10pm at that point. What was I supposed to do now? Where was Michael? I took a piss and looked around for a locker. I knew he would show up. And, like clockwork, he did. At 10pm, he strolled into the locker room from another door. "I can't believe you were stupid enough to show up, boy," he said confidently. And as he slipped some zip ties onto my wrists and tightened them down, he leaned in and whispered in my ear, "This is going to be way worse than if I sent those emails." He looked me in the eyes with a sick smile on his face to make sure I understood, then with one hand he reached into my pocket and took the belt, and with the other, he pulled something out of his own pocket. I heard the sound of metal on metal, but didn't realize it was a knife until my shorts had been cut from my waist. My shirt only took him a few seconds longer. And he threw them both in the trash. "You don't need those," he said flatly. I looked at him in terror with tears in my eyes, wondering what I would do at the end of the night. "Follow me," he said. And he turned to walk away. He paused, and turned back to me, and added, "Oh, and lose the flip flops. I want you barefoot." I kicked them off, and he tugged on the zip tie around my left wrist, leading me through a door.

The other side of the door was pitch black. No light at all. I was even more scared. But he seemed to know where he was going and pulled me along through the dark. He explained as we walked, "I rented this place out tonight, boy. We've got a whole building of play rooms at our disposal. So I thought it would be fun to turn it into a giant dark room. Well, most of it at least." For the first time that night, I felt relieved. For some reason, I assumed that meant it was just him and me, a private rental. I guess I'd blocked out how many cars were outside, and the thing the attendant said about the group party.

We got to an open door. Inside, there were red lights. Other than that, it was fairly empty. We went into the middle of the room and he yanked my wrists upward. Using a couple more zip ties, he secured my wrists to a loop hanging from the ceiling. Then he lowered me so that I was on my knees, and he spread my legs out so my junk dangled in my jock strap below me. I felt completely exposed, and even more terrified than before. He ran his hands all over my body. It felt so fucking good. "Want to know the best part about renting the place out?" he asked inquisitively, "I can make you scream as loud as I want." And with that, I felt the crack of leather diagnoally across my back. I let out a loud scream, mostly in surprise, but also pain.

It continued like that, all over my body for longer than I thought it would take. He really wound up before he swung the belt. He definitely drew blood a handful of times. My thighs, my ass, my back and chest, even across my feet once. I was sobbing and screaming. But the only sounds he made were a few laughs when he made me scream particularly loudly. He told me when he was done. And I let the zip ties hold my body weight as I sobbed. "Quit it, boy, you're making me hard," he chucked.

He walked around in front of me, and I realized that at some point during my beating, he had gotten naked. He stepped up to me, hard as a rock, and stuck his dick in my mouth. "You remember this, don't you, boy?" he remarked. He must have been at least 9 inches long and as big around as a coke can. He had a terrifyingly, unapologetically massive dick. He wasted no time making me choke and gag, with both his hands behind my head, and my hands still suspended above me. I was even having trouble breathing, but he didn't care. He stopped using me after about 10 minutes, and said, "Need to save that load for another hole, boy." He ran his hands over my body again to survey his work, the damage he had inflicted. Then he slipped a blindfold on me, cut my wrists down from the loop on the ceiling, and walked me to another room.

I could sense that this room was bigger, and I heard a lot of shuffling around and movement. I was scared. There was some dim light in this room that I could see peeking around the blindfold, but I couldn't see anything other than the light level. Michael pushed me down to the ground and my knees hit the concrete. Then he pushed my face into an old mattress sitting on the floor. I could only imagine how much cum that dirtty old thing had seen in a place like this. Using more zip ties, he tied me down spread eagle and pulled me tight.

He got in position. I could feel his dick behind me, resting on my virgin hole, no lube, just as he had promised. "Please, no," I begged him, "Please don't do this." He leaned in close to my ear, putting one arm down on my back and resting his body weight on it. "You ready, boy?" he asked. The he chuckled and said, "No, of course you're not." And with that, he shoved inside me with all his might. I knew he tore my hole on the first thrust. The pain was unbearable. But he kept going. Another thrust, and another. It only took him three to be buried inside me balls deep. Cheers erupted around the room, and men started calling me names. I had no idea there were that many men in the room until that moment. It sounded like at least twenty. He fucked and fucked, and I thought he would never stop. Finally, around fifteen minutes later, he picked up the pace, grunted, thrusted, and I felt a warm rush inside me. He pulled out and slapped his dick across my face and made me lick it clean.

I thought I was about done for the night. I'd received my punishment. I was ready to go home. But he reminded me, "Remember, you have to suck off my friends too. Oh, and don't forget about your last bet." I had forgotten. I still had one bet to go. What could he possibly still want from me? He continued, "I've got a bunch of guys here who don't want your throat. They want your ass." I tensed up and started to tear up under the blindfold. Anything but that. My ass hurt so bad. He reached over and began to lube my asshole, a bit of insincere mercy. "But," he said, "I told them they'll have to try their luck. Each guy will get to guess your name. They'll whisper their guess in your ear. If they get it wrong, you suck them off. But if they get it right, they get your ass. And I told them you have a pretty common name too, so I bet a few will get it right." I nodded my head to let him know I understood. He added, "I'll lean in close and listen to make sure you don't lie. If you do, they all get your ass." I nodded again.

I could hear the guys getting excited again. And then one stepped up to me and leaned in close. "Eric," he whispered, and my heart sank. I nodded my head yes, and the room erupted in cheers. He lined up and fucked me, much gentler than Michael had. It still didn't feel good, but he was smaller, and it wasn't as bad. I began to panic as I realized he was getting close. I yelled out to Michael, "Are all of these guys clean?" They all laughed, and Michael replied, "Well, I'm positive, and not on meds. So it probably doesn't matter much." Then I felt the guy inside me erupt with a groan. As he composed himself, he leaned in and whispered, "At least I'm undetectable."

The next guy stepped up, and whispered confidently, "Eric." Something about his voice sounded familiar. Come to think of it, something about the first guy's voice sounded familiar too. I think Michael could tell that I was suspicious, and he pulled my blindfold off. I looked up, and towering over me with an evil grin was my coach. Michael laughed and said, "You guessed it, they all know your name, boy." I looked around the room, straining to see in the dim light, and realized I knew everyone there. Half of my baseball team was there. Two of my coaches were there. One of my professors were there... along with the barista at the Starbucks I frequent... the waiter from the breakfast place my teammates and I go to... a couple of the attendants at my gym... and more. I knew them all. Michael had set me up! So many dicks. So many huge dicks too! And half of the guys had tattoos--a scorpion or a biohazard symbol were pretty common. I still didn't know what they meant, but I was starting to get a clue that it wasn't good for me.

But at least the guys were generally pretty hot, and mostly my type... athletic, sexy, and cocky. They laughed and closed in on me. Before I knew it, I had a dick in my ass, one down my throat, and dicks in each hand. They used me like that for the next two hours, and slowly left as they were done. When they had gone, Michael cut my zip ties, and walked me to the shower. I started to jerk my dick, but he stopped me. "You don't get to cum tonight, boy. This wasn't for you.," he said gruffly. He got me cleaned up and we walked back to the locker room together. I put my jock strap back on, and then I remembered he had cut my clothes off. I glanced in the trash can, but it was empty. "Oh, no, you'll have to get back to your car in just that jock strap tonight, boy. Too bad you had to park so far away, " he sneered. And he threw a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on and walked out wearing my flip flops. I brushed by the attendant, who called me a whore as I tried to sneak out the door. Then I walked as fast as I could to my car without shoes. The asphalt hurt my feet. A couple people saw me, but for the most part, I was in the clear. Getting into my dorm room undetected was a more precarious task.

I stayed in bed the next day, exhausted and in so much pain. I skipped three baseball games that week, but my coaches knew why I wasn't there. No one from that night ever said anything about it to me. I don't know how Michael contacted them, and I don't know what he told them. I don't know how he found me, or how long he'd been following me. I don't know if our meeting on Grindr was a setup from the beginning or not. And I don't know if any of the guys were in on it with him or just took advantage of the situation. But I tried my best to pretend it hadn't happened. And for the most part, they let me. Other than the odd glance in the locker room, or the occasional knowing look, they never said a word.

I logged back onto Grindr a few days later, and Michael had deleted his profile. Gone. No trace of him. I tried texting him, and the number came back as undeliverable. Email was the same. I had no idea how to contact him, or why I wanted to. But something told me, it wouldn't be the last I saw of him.

(End -- but there is a short postscript coming in the next few days. Ask any questions you want, and I may address them in the postscript!)

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