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Posted

Wow, perhaps I should have had more water? Maybe I shouldn’t have come to the bar straight after working all day in the sun? How many drinks had I had? I am sure this is still my first one? How am I so drunk already?

All of these thoughts drifted through the fog in my mind. It was unusual for me to have any money in my pocket, but the summer labouring job I had taken between finishing school and starting university meant I had a little, and the old guy I was contracting for had told me this was the place to come. I was tired after a day’s work, but my 18yo hormones and my raging boner said I was not ready to go straight back to my childhood bedroom in my mum’s basement. So here I was trying to work out how, after just half a drink, the room was spinning.

 What was in this drink anyway? He had told me to order a “first-timer special”. I had assumed that would be weak, but it must have been rocket fuel. It didn’t taste of much, just sweet with a bit of a metallic aftertaste.

I glanced at the others in the bar. I stood out a bit here. My 6’4 muscular frame was in contrast to the fat older guys around the room. Most of them in their 60s with their primes well behind them. Thankfully they didn’t seem to notice I was struggling and alone so I thought maybe I could sneak out without them noticing I was a lightweight.

I was just about to turn and go when one of them approached me. Unlike the others he actually appeared quite skinny and his face appeared a little gaunt or wasted. He was dressed almost entirely in black.  “You should finish your drink before you go anywhere” he said. Oddly it seemed more like an instruction. I gulped the last third of the glass and he said “good boi” and grabbed my arm as I wobbled a little on my feet.

“Before you go you should check out the back rooms” he said gently ushering me towards a door at the rear. I didn’t seem to be walking, but my feet were moving me the way he gently directed, more like I was floating. I went to say something, but the words disappeared before they left my mouth. Before I knew it I was though the back door and into a dark space. The only light was coming from a TV screen and the pulsing trance music was intoxicating.

I felt my feet drift me towards the TV screen led by the man in black who was almost invisible in the darkness, like some surreal puppet master. My eyes fixed on the screen, and it took a while for my mind to compute. On the screen was a guy my age, naked, on some sort of swing seat being fucked. My mind swam again. What was this place? What am I doing here? I am not gay!

The puppet-master placed my hands on the bench in front of me and I watched as if from afar as he placed cuffs onto my wrists and secured them to the bench. What was happening?

 I felt his hands roughly running over my body. Wait! I am not gay! His hands went lower, opening my jeans, pulling the band down on my jocks, releasing my rapidly stiffening cock. Wait! What does this mean? I am not gay!

He deftly removed my shoes, socks, and quickly my jeans and jock. What was happening? Was this real? I was naked from the waist down! Was this a dream?

My legs were floated open and my back gently pressed forwards such that I was over the bench and cuffs were placed on my ankles. I vaguely thought I should protest, but again words floated in my mind but went nowhere.

I felt something cold on my asshole, rubbed roughly on by strong fingers. Worked into my hole. One finger, two fingers, three fingers. Twisting motions. Then the fingers were gone. There was a brief pause before something else was placed there. It was bigger. Warm. I felt hands grip my waist and the new thing eased inside. It slid a few inches in, stopped, withdrew a little then went deeper. Then deeper. Then I felt something soft gently brushing my balls. Like they were touching a copy of themselves. I felt a wasted abdomen slap against my ass cheeks. What was happening? One of the hands on my hip relocated to my chest. Groping furiously while I felt whatever was in my ass sliding. Slapping. Building speed.

A hand gripped my cock and I knew it was hard. Pre-cum was flowing freely from the tip. The puppeteer increased his speed, what was even happening? Why was he grunting? What was he saying? It was guttural “Fuck……! Yes! take my toxic load! Grrrrr I am breeding you good! Good boi! Good boi!......” I felt it twitching inside me, Felt the thing pressing my balls tighten then relax, and then he was gone.

The bench in front of me was drenched in my pre-cum and his DNA dripped from my asshole.

Before I had time to even breathe new hands were on me. A new shaft was entering me. A different man stepped in front of me, his hard cock slapping my face. What? His what? What is this? I am not Gay! So why is his cock in my mouth? Why is he holding my head and shoving it down my throat? why is my cock rock hard?

I don’t know how long I floated, but I was still dazed as the cuffs were released. I managed to pull on my jeans and stumble out the door just as dawn was breaking. Was it all a dream? Were there even that many men in that bar? Did any of that really happen? That dawn was definitely the start of a new era for me.

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Posted

Hearing this from the top's POV (point of view) would be horny.  😀

Personally, I'm hoping for a fetish top, dressed in head-to-toe black rubber; leather or lycra.

Posted
On 12/13/2024 at 1:27 AM, austin_submale said:

I would love to find a bar like that!

 

Fuck yeah!! A fantasy into reality. Only difference, I'd want to be there all night being bred with poz seed & piss. Being used as a sperms & piss bank until a hot slam & my well lubed (cum/piss) filled cunt was lubed up for a angry fisting session. 

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Posted
On 12/15/2024 at 9:40 PM, Knightfalconer said:

Hearing this from the top's POV (point of view) would be horny.  😀

Personally, I'm hoping for a fetish top, dressed in head-to-toe black rubber; leather or lycra.

Maybe you can write that. I am more familiar with the btm role. 

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