Ruined in the Ruins

chunkychains · April 30

My company had recently won an important contract in Mexico, and as the only analyst who spoke Spanish (thanks to my mother being from Seville), I had been sent to oversee the setup of the new operation. My partner was not best pleased that I was going to be gone for eight weeks, but the large bonus I was to receive was certainly going to help with filling up the pot we were setting aside for trying to have kids through a surrogate in the future, so we both knew that I had to accept. As such, after a comfortable flight over in business class, I was now set up in an aparthotel that would act as my base for the trip.

The first few days were hectic, but as things calmed down and the new operation found its feet, I could afford to take a bit of a step back. This gave me the opportunity to see a bit of the city and its surroundings, while also hunting for gifts to take back to appease my partner for the prolonged absence. Top of my personal to-do list was a trip out to see some lesser-known pyramids, which I had heard were much less touristy than Teotihuacán and could be visited round the clock. I decided a couple of nights in a nearby basic hotel would be sensible as I was keen to see both sunrise and sunset at the archeological site, so I made a plan to head out there after finishing a bit early on the Friday and then come back to the city on the Sunday.

Sure enough, pre-dawn on the Saturday my alarm went off, and after splashing some water on my face, filling my thermos with coffee from the room and donning some clothes, I headed out into the darkness. I had rented a bike to explore the site myself, so with the headlight on bright, I rode off up the semi-paved track away from the hotel. Little was I to know I would not actually get to watch the sunrise as planned.

I managed to find my way to the site, although I could not yet make out any actual pyramids in the darkness. I chained up the bike, grabbed my flashlight and then set off up the path leading from the entrance gate. I figured I would find somewhere to sit and drink some coffee while I waited for there to be enough light in the sky to help me work out where to position myself for the actual sunrise. Eventually I found a sort of shelter, the purpose of which was not clear to me in the gloom, but it had a bench in it that I could sit down on to wait. However, as soon as I did so I felt a wave of tiredness come over me, and having got to the site quicker than expected, I decided I could risk leaning against the back and side of the shelter to rest my eyes for a bit. I set an alarm on my phone for half an hour, closed my eyes, and soon drifted off.

I was not woken by my alarm, but rather by the sudden jolt of being pulled forward off the bench. It was still fairly dark but I could just make out that there were several figures there, and I knew immediately I was in trouble. At least two men were hauling me out of the shelter by my arms, and of course I shouted and tried to resist once my fight-or-flight response kicked in. At this point my arms were pulled behind me while a bandana or something was pulled around my mouth. Despite my best efforts my assailants quickly had me muted, my arms tied behind me, and then they pushed me to the ground and did the same to my ankles. I was then lifted up by several men and carried away from the shelter, heading for godknowswhere. At this point I was sure I was being kidnapped.

After being carried in the dark for a few moments, I was placed down on my front on a flat-topped rock. Before I could squirm or do anything to try to free myself, I was held firmly in place while the men untied my ankles, spread them, and then re-secured them apart to something before ripping open the back of my shorts and underwear. The rope tying my wrists together was also secured down to something, so that I was prone over the rock. Then, almost immediately, I felt a hard pressure at my anus, and started to scream out as much as I could over the gag as I was penetrated. Maybe these men were indeed kidnapping me, but I was to be used first, that was for sure. The initial entry was excruciating, especially as I rarely bottomed for my partner, but eventually whichever of the men it was had buried himself in me fully. He then started a rough pounding of my hole, my gagged screams seemingly not bothering any of them.

The first guy fucked me brutally for a while, then roared out and jammed himself into me fully. I knew I was being bred. He then pulled out and was replaced by another, and the whole ordeal began again. They all took at least one turn, my screams seeming to fade into submission in time with the sun rising and light bathing the ruins around us. Not that I got to see much of that, as any time I looked up to try to see who was doing this to me I was struck in the face by one of the men.

When they all seemed to be done, a blindfold was tied around my eyes, my ankles were released but then rapidly secured back together, and then I was roughly pulled up off the rock and up into the air again. I was carried to somewhere for a few minutes, and then heard what sounded like a metal door being opened. Moments later I was dropped down onto a hard surface on my back, my wrists were untied from each other, pulled apart and secured somehow. My ankles got the same treatment, and then I heard all the men leaving and the door being closed again. I had no choice but to lie there on my back, unable to see a thing, trussed up like godknowswhat, my mouth still gagged, my used and sore hole continuing to leak, and wonder what was in store for me.

Over the course of however many hours it was, men seemed to take turns to visit the increasingly hot room I was in, all of them unceremoniously ramming into my hole and fucking another load into me. What was really surprising was that I realised I was getting just a little bit excited each time I heard the door open as someone else arrived, which was crazy given the peril I was in and the reality of what was happening to me. But yes, truth be told, I was starting to want there to be someone there fucking me rather than being left alone.

Another change of location came later, when a number of men seemed to come into the room together and begin working together to release me from whatever I was tied to, re-secure my wrists and ankles together, and then lift me up and carry me out. Once again I was manually carried for some time, until we reached whatever the chosen venue was now for all this to continue. I had no fight left in me, so when I was put down on my feet I dutifully allowed my ankles to be separated and secured apart to something, before I was bent forward over what felt like a rock. I propped myself up on my elbows, and this perhaps gave them an indication that they had broken me as a moment later my gag and blindfold were taken off. I blinked and got my eyes used to the light, taking in that we were back in the trees around the ruins, but I did not look around at the men. I stared straight ahead of me, just waiting.

A cock was pressed back into me, and I gave a slight moan as, despite the use and abuse I had experienced and how sore my hole was by this point, there was still a definite sense of what I can only call relief at being filled again. I took the fuck without complaint, and actually squeezed around his cock as he slammed in a final time and unloaded in me. I did the same as all the other men followed suit, never once turning my head to see who these guys were. Somewhere in the corner of my mind, voices were screaming at me to try to stop this, to try to remember that I’m partnered up and planning to have a family, and that this was a repeated act of violence being perpetrated on me, but by this point a deeper, perhaps long-repressed version of me had emerged.

I had gone into something of a trance I suppose, but was broken out of that when one of the men suddenly appeared next to me, also bent over the rock. I turned to look at him as I was being fucked, noticing he couldn’t have been more than 25, and watched as he grimaced through his own penetration. He did not utter a sound throughout though, and when the man behind him slammed in a final time and then withdrew, the younger guy just stood up and disappeared out of my field of view. A moment later a stocky older man with a bushy moustache took his place and was also fucked by one of the others, all while the rest of them continued to use me.

The light faded as my gangbang continued, with several of the men having also taken a turn bent over on the rock next to me. I concluded this must be a gang or something, but did not know if they all got fucked or if there was some kind of hierarchy within the group. I found myself wondering how many other men had experienced what I was going through, and whether it was just tourists they targeted. I also didn’t know whether I was still going to be kidnapped and held for ransom, but I was starting to think that maybe that wasn’t going to be the case. Perhaps they would finally expend their sexual energies, and then dispose of me to become just the latest in a long list of Westerners who had disappeared without trace, or maybe I was going to be set free after all this.

I got my answer long after it had got dark, when the blindfold was suddenly put back on me and I was re-gagged while the last of them finished off inside me. I was then hauled off the rock and quickly re-tied at the wrists and ankles, before being lifted up by several hands and carried off. It seemed like ages, but eventually I was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. I felt the restraints at my wrists being loosened, and then the sound of all the men running away. When it had gone quiet I managed to get my blindfold off with my still-tied hands, realising I was back at the shelter where this had all started. There was some dim light from a nearby lamp, so I could just about make out what I was doing as I wiggled my hands and used my teeth to finally get one wrist free, making it possible to get the gag out of my mouth and then untie the rest of the binds. I was free, and the men were long gone.

The bike was still there at the end of the path, and miraculously the torn shorts I was wearing still had everything I had set out with in the pockets, so I was able unchain the bike to cycle back. I had to do the whole thing standing up on the peddles as I was too sore to sit on the saddle, and closer to my hotel I wore out and got off to walk the bike the rest of the way. When I got back, the old man at the reception desk nodded to me as I staggered in, and I detected a smirk as I glanced back at him before starting the climb up the stairs. Did he know? Had he been part of this somehow? Was he possibly even one of the gang that had spent the day fucking me? Or was he just amused by the state I was in?

I managed a shower, gently probing around my gaping, abused hole a bit to feel the damage, before collapsing into the bed and passing out. I had feverish dreams all night, waking in a sweat more than once, and was therefore very slow to get going the next morning. An older lady was at the reception when I checked out, but once again I just had a sense that she knew something. What had I got into by coming here?

It was a relief when I got back to the city and returned the car to the hire place around the corner from my aparthotel. I slept a little more soundly in my temporary home, and the next day started the process of trying to act normally as I got back on with work. However, as the days of that week went on, a nagging desire got stronger and stronger. I couldn’t deny it as hard as I tried: I wanted to be fucked again, and I wanted it to be anonymous and raw. All it took was a couple of beers with colleagues after work on the Friday, and my inhibitions had been sufficiently lowered to do something about my predicament. That night, and for so many more during my remaining time in Mexico, I was to be found bent over in a cruise club taking whatever came my way.

Three days after I got home, I woke up with a fever. My partner tended to me through the delirium that followed, and sat by my side in the doctor’s office a week later as I was given the news that I had tested positive. He saved his rage until we were back home, refusing to believe that any version of what I told him was true. He was acting out of fury as he threw accusations my way, and yet everything he was saying did actually now ring true in some way. I had been subjected to what was undoubtedly a prolonged sexual assault, and yet it had awoken something in me that I knew I could not suppress again. I felt strangely liberated, even as my partner’s vitriol went from strength to strength, and found myself zoning out and starting to wonder if my pozzing had been at the hands of the gang or one of the many anonymous hook-ups in the clubs of Mexico City.

Jump forward to today, and my career has actually advanced significantly since the success of the Mexican operation’s commencement. My partner of course kicked me out, and in his anger and betrayal he made sure our friends and families knew the truth about me. That set forth something of a mass desertion by people I thought I had been close to, but now that I am without the same social responsibilities to occupy most of my weekends and evenings, I am free to live my new life. That life involves cock. Any cock. All cocks. There isn’t one I won’t ride, and no load I won’t take. Hook-ups at home or a guy’s place, clubs, saunas, public toilets, alleyways, parks, beaches… Anywhere, anytime, you can find me and my biohazard tramp stamp swallowing up as many loads as possible. I’m 45, apparently handsome, in the best shape of my life, and a proud poz cumdump.

But what excites me most is that I’m being sent back to Mexico to oversee the rollout of our latest system upgrade in the office there. I’ve already secured some time off during my stay, and I know just where I’ll be aiming to spend it…