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Stories on demand - "The Rubber Trigger"
I love writing - especially writing about erotic (fetish) subjects. If you like the idea of having a story written for you, about your favourite fetish, then let me know.

Below is my first posting here (first 2 chapters). If you like it, let me know, please - I need feedback to keep me going.

By the way, some of the formatting was lost when pasting the story in, but I hope it's still readable.

Enjoy *KISS*


Chapter 1: Initiation

Castro Street was busy even at 5:45 on this Friday afternoon. It was sunny, but cool for July and I shivered in my jacket, but then maybe that wasn’t the weather?
Small groups of tourists wandered past me, trying not to stare at the openly ‘gay’ individuals and couples that lived and played in the neighbourhood. Castro - the world’s centre for the gay and lesbian community. But I’m not ‘gay’, at least not in the straight sense of the word. No, I’m not gay, not exactly. So why had I been pacing up and down this pavement for the past 20 minutes trying to work up the courage, or insanity, to cross the road and carry through my plan?
Not many people were going through the door that I was trying not to watch - maybe five or six ‘couples’. If you didn’t look too closely then the clientele of The Q Bar might have seemed perfectly ‘normal’. Ordinary men and women together, taking a drink or a snack on a perfect summer evening. But this is Castro, and I was sure that the couples entering and leaving the bar were anything but ‘normal’.
My mouth was dry, but my palms were sweaty. God I felt nervous, and my heart was pounding in my chest hard enough to hurt. My knees shook slightly every time I stopped opposite the bar and considered crossing over to go in.
“What the hell am I doing here?” kept running through my mind. “Why take this crazy risk now?” And I would walk up to the Castro Theatre again and pretend to look at the posters and schedule of upcoming events, while my pulse raced and I tried to relax.
What was I doing here? A very good question, and I wasn’t sure of the answer. Two years ago I had come on vacation to San Francisco with my wife and family, and we had stayed for a week in a rental house only a few blocks from where I was pacing now. We hadn’t realised what Castro was before we booked the house, but we had loved it. The atmosphere, the shops, the restaurants, and the people – it was great. Castro had charmed us all.
I had noticed The Q Bar one evening when I had gone out for a take-away pizza. There had been a lot of people on the streets then too, but the people going in and out of The Q Bar had really caught my eye. At first I had thought the elegant and sexily dressed ladies were ‘real’, and couldn’t help ogling the sleek bodies, clothed in satins, silks, leather and latex. But then when I looked closer I noticed the reality, and for some reason that excited me even more. I’d stood outside for a good 15 minutes watching the amazing parade of high-heeled beauties, before going on to pick up my pizza and take home a huge erection for my wife.
I’d thought of that evening scene many times over the past two years, often while masturbating in the shower, or when I was having sex with my wife. Imagining what it would be like to go in there and meet some of those amazing people. Great fantasies. It had even changed my taste in porn – well, at least added to my list of fetishes. But I’d never really expected to have the chance to go inside and do it for real. But then recently I’d got a new job, and my first project involved coming to San Francisco – fantastic, and I’d been planning this evening for the last two months. But now, could I go through with it?
The back of my shirt was soaking with sweat. I checked my watch again – six o’clock, crazy, I’d been hanging around this place for over a half hour! What the hell was wrong with me?
“What can go wrong,” I thought. “All I’m doing is going into a bar for a drink.”
I made a decision - just one beer and a look around the place, then back to the hotel for dinner. No problems, no hassle, just one drink. What could be wrong with that? No one here knew me. No one would ever know.
Checking the traffic, I crossed the street and headed for the bar. Not directly of course, I made sure that no one would guess where I was headed until I reached the door.
Breathing hard I pushed my way in through the glass doors, embarrassed in case anyone saw me, but knowing full well that there was no one around that could be interested in the fact that I had just entered my first ever ‘gay’ bar.
The lighting inside was dim and I stood for a few seconds by the door waiting for my eyes to get used to it. As my eyes adjusted I could see the place was much bigger than I’d thought from the outside. There was a large bar area on the left, with bright metal and glass tables filling the space. Around the walls there were wooden benches with leather padded seats, and bigger tables for larger groups. Everything looked modern and new. There was nothing dingy or seedy about this place.
On the right side of the entrance was what looked like a nightclub, with a large dance floor and more tables and chairs clustered around the walls. I guessed that The Q Bar could probably hold a couple of hundred people easily, double that if you wanted things to get cosy.
I walked over to the bar, noticing as I moved around the tables that most them were empty. Each occupied table had a small, lit candle floating in a glass holder, so each couple was cast in a soft glow of light – little bright islands in a sea of shadow.
As I approached the semi-circular bar I noticed that there was someone behind it. She was restocking one of the shelves with various bottles, and her movements in the lights around the bar clearly showed off her curves, and the fact that she was wearing a white silk blouse. Since silk and satin are serious fetishes of mine it was something very noticeable.
This whole scene was not what I had expected. I wasn’t sure what that was, but this wasn’t it. This was a modern, friendly bar - welcoming and cheerful. In a way I was disappointed, but in another way I breathed a sigh of relief.
When I reached the bar the woman stopped her work and walked down to where I was standing. She looked to be around thirty years old, with shoulder-length black hair, cut in the Asian style, and in addition to the white silk blouse she was also wearing a hip hugging, knee-length black pencil skirt. I couldn’t help watching her approach and mentally ticking off my fetish boxes – silk, pencil skirt, sheer hose, black high heels. It was only when she asked me what drink I wanted that my mind took a step backward and I realised ‘she’ was a man.
“Er,” I said, trying to get my brain and mouth back in synch. My throat was dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I was blushing like a schoolboy.
She looked at me and batted her long black eyelashes, waiting for my order.
“Er, just a beer please,” I stammered. “A Budweiser please.”
Her full, red lips parted in a smile over her perfect white teeth. “You’re British aren’t you?” I nodded and gave her a nervous smile back.
“I like British folks,” she went on, “I visited London last year. Are you from London?” She had a nice voice – deep and husky, and it could have been a woman’s. But it wasn’t.
I shook my head, “No, not really. Although I worked in London for a few years.”
As she came back with my Bud and an ice-cold glass she said, “So you’re here on vacation?”
Again I shook my head, “No, I’m on business. I just started a project here.”
She nodded and smiled. I think she liked me. I wasn’t sure if I should feel happy or worried about that.
Since I didn’t seem like the talkative type she took the empty bottle and went back to her task of refilling the shelves. As she left I took the opportunity to scrutinise her hips, ass and legs, looking closely for any signs of masculinity. I shook my head in amazement. She looked just like the real thing – better in fact.
Sipping at my beer I glanced around the bar, wondering if anyone had noticed me come in. But so far there were no signs of rampaging homosexuals, or leather-clad biker gangs looking for new meat. I grinned at my stupid imagination – what had I really thought it would be like? What a moron!
Quite a few people came in, or left, couples mainly – of just about all permutations possible. There were pairs who were obviously both men, or both women. Then there were some that were harder to classify – was that one a real woman, or was it a cross dresser? And again, there were people who were clearly men dressed as women, with other real women. Confusing, but interesting.
The couples, or small groups, sat at the bar, or at tables. They acted like normal people, chatting and drinking together. There was no skulking around, or embarrassed fumbling in the gloom – at least not as far as I could see. It was interesting to watch, and not what I had been expecting at all.
I sat and watched the people around me relaxing and having a good time. And in between sips of my drink, I watched the way the girl behind the bar moved, and she seemed to enjoy knowing that I was monitoring the slinky movements of her ass in the tight skirt.
“Why is it I always end up like this – alone and frustrated?” I wondered to myself as I watched the other people in the bar. I’m not a bad looking guy, around 5 feet 11 inches tall, pretty fit – I’m not a bad tennis player, and I work out at least once a week. Dark brown hair and hazel eyes, I get my fair share of admiring looks from the ladies. But I always find myself sitting alone, and more important, going home alone.
“I’ve always been too shy, that’s my real problem,” I started off down the familiar thought track. “Too quiet, and too shy.” I matured early, but I could never get my tongue to say what I wanted to the girls, usually stammering with embarrassment.
There was another complication too. I don’t know where it came from, but ever since I was a teenager I’d been into porn, addicted even, starting with soft stuff and quickly getting harder. And I’d rapidly found a favourite theme to my addiction – female domination, or Femdom. That had caused me a problem too – wanting to try out my fantasies. I could never find normal girls who liked that, so I had started looking for hookers, but that never really satisfied me. So I’d become a frustrated submissive, always looking for someone who shared my desires and urges, and never succeeding.
At one point I thought I had found someone, but before I could find out if she shared my BDSM interests she got pregnant and we got married. I was too young, but desperate for a real relationship. Too bad for me it turned out that my wife had no interest whatsoever in dominating me, on the contrary, she was quite submissive herself. So now I’m married and doubly frustrated, although I have to say that my teenage daughter can be a real bitch when she doesn’t get what she wants.
A sudden thought came to me in a flash of inspiration – I realised that even sitting here in a gay bar I was still looking for the same thing; I was still looking for someone to dominate and humiliate me, but I was looking for it now in the cross-dressing and transsexual community. If I couldn’t find a real woman who would satisfy my fetish, then maybe I could find a feminine man who would do it? I shook my head and chuckled at my own stupidity.
Suddenly I noticed the woman behind the bar stop her slow parade. She frowned and gave someone in the room a hard stare. I turned to see who she was looking at, and was just in time to see a couple walking past the bar towards the far corner of the room. All I could make out was a tall black girl dressed in a Chinese, knee-length black cheongsam, split from hem to thigh and showing off a lot of elegant leg. She also wore very high black heels and had a great ass. A young white guy dressed in tight white jeans and a blue sweater was walking a step behind her, and they both seemed in hurry to get where they were going.
They disappeared into the gloom at the back of the room and I turned back to my beer.
Drinking or eating by myself has never been something that I like doing for long, so when I finished the beer it was decision time. I’d been sitting nursing that drink for almost an hour and while the place was pleasant enough it was clear that there was nothing for me here. I’d let my imagination run away with me, but now I’d seen reality. It was time to go back to the hotel, get something to eat, and then jerk off in my room before going to bed, alone, again. Not a very appealing thought.
I called the girl over behind the bar and paid the cheque. She looked disappointed that I was leaving, but maybe that was just my imagination too.
Since I had a long ride back downtown I thought it would be good to visit the men’s room before leaving, so I asked her where I could find it. She flashed me a smile and pointed over to the far side of the room. “Don’t get lost in there,” she said with a wink and a grin.
Blushing again I crossed the room and found the restroom door, and pushed through. Beyond the first door were two others, marked ‘Men’ and ‘Women’. Pretty standard signs, but a funny thought struck me – which door would the fake-girls use? I was smiling as I went through the door marked ‘Men’.
The smile froze on my face though as I walked into the spotlessly clean men’s room. The sight of what was happening in the first cubicle stopped me in my tracks.
With the cubicle door wide open there was nothing to stop me seeing everything that was going on. The black girl that I had seen earlier was standing with one high-heeled foot resting on the toilet seat, her black silk dress pulled up around her waist. Her boyfriend was standing, but bent over, and was clearly giving the girl oral sex.
“Suck me bitch!” the black girl instructed the man, holding his head with both hands. Light reflected off the large gold rings on her fingers as she forced his head up and down in front of her.
My mouth fell open in stupid surprise as I took in the scene.
“What are you staring at?” the black cross-dresser demanded, scowling at me over her lover’s head. “You never seen a white bitch sucking black meat before?”
Actually I hadn’t – at least not in real life. I’d watched a few porn movies where it happened, but this was way beyond those. I shook my head, feeling ridiculous, but also starting to develop a hard on. This was more like what I dreamed of before coming.
The girl pulled her friend’s head off her cock and slapped his face. “You useless fucker,” she hissed, “You can’t even suck cock any more, what’s wrong with you tonight?” She pushed him back out of the cubicle and he almost staggered into me. My eyes almost burst out of my head when I saw what he had been sucking - nine inches of rock-hard black shaft, glistening with saliva and pre-cum!
“Aight white boy, you’ve had a good look, now come and finish what this jerk started,” the black beauty said, holding her shaft in one hand and pointing it at me.
Now, like I said before, I’m not gay. The only time I’d ever touched another man’s cock in my life was when I’d visited a couple of hookers just before I’d got married. I liked to watch them put on a lesbian show for me before fucking them, and on this one occasion when I arrived their previous client was still there, naked and chained spread-eagle to the wall. He was gagged and the youngest whore was tamely whipping him with a flogger. His cock though was rock hard and oozing pre-cum, jutting straight out from his groin.
I’d watched the action for a few minutes – the young one whipping and the older slut rubbing his cock and balls. He was moaning and trying to fuck the old whore’s hand, but she just laughed and kept teasing him.
My own cock was definitely enjoying the scene and was rigid in my pants.
The chained guy definitely didn’t mind me standing there watching him, and kept glancing at me, and groaning as he tried to end the tease.
Finally the whore with the whip noticed where his attention seemed to be, and suggested that I finish him off. That was a shock, but to be honest I was thrilled at the idea.
The guy nodded his head when she asked him if it was OK for me to do him, so I poured some baby lotion over my hand and let him use it.
It was no big deal for me to stand there and let him fuck my slippery hand. His muscle was hard and hot, but it was not like I was sucking him off or anything. The two girls had found it funny, and cheered when he finally pumped his load all over the floor by my feet. The rest of my session with the hookers had been good, but it’s the action with the guy that stands out in my memory. You see, one thing about me is that when I’m hard I’ll do almost anything to get off. I lose all restraint and decency, and just have a total focus on whatever perversion is going on, until I cum that is. As soon as I’ve emptied my balls I’m full of remorse and shame – at least for a few minutes.
But this was a different ball game. Sucking off a black transvestite in the toilets of a gay bar was a big deal. Did I want to do it? She certainly looked pretty hot standing there with her dress up, panties around her ankle, and her big black cock waiting for a willing mouth. But was that why I was here?
“Get your fucking white ass over here faggot, and get busy, I ain’t got all night,” the black bitch sneered. “Come on, I know you want to, I can see it in your face.”
My face was burning with embarrassment, but she was right, I had a boner in my pants and I did want to do it. It would be the most perverted thing I had ever done, but then I was really into domination and humiliation, and what could be more humiliating that this?
My wobbly legs carried me over to the cubicle and I reached out for that smooth hot shaft. It twitched wonderfully as my fingers closed around it and I felt its girth.
The woman that the cock belonged to moaned as I squeezed it, and groaned as I explored the sensation of gently caressing it.
“Suck it baby,” the black bombshell hissed as I started to pull on her muscle, “Suck Jessie’s big black snake.”
The feeling of the hot cock in my hand was hypnotic. It was like a living thing, twitching and pulsing as I held it tight. I bent forward and put the tip of my tongue out, and gently touched it to the end of the deep purple head of the cock. The woman moaned softly above me. “Yeah baby…oh yeah.”
I smiled at the reaction; the feeling of power was great. So this is what a woman felt like when she held a man in her hand.
Slowly I kissed the head and open my lips to suckle at it. It didn’t taste bad at all. A bit salty, but I had tasted my own pre-cum and jism a few times – it was no big deal. It also tasted of saliva and I remembered the man standing behind me who had aeady had the pleasure of sucking on this organ.
A pair of hands suddenly began applying pressure to the top of my head, pressing me down further, pushing more of the black meat into my mouth. I closed my eyes and ran my tongue over the head and along the shaft, doing things that had been done to me in the past – things that I loved. More groans of pleasure came from above my head, and the pressure from the hands increased.
As I continued to suck and lick a hand moved up my thigh and between my legs, cupping the bulge that was straining the material there. I guessed that it was the guy that the woman had come in with.
The woman went on verbally abusing me as I sucked, calling me a sissy, a cock loving faggot and a white whore. Disgusting, humiliating names – and I loved it.
Her boyfriend carried on rubbing my bulge, pressing hard on my cock through the fabric of my trousers. It felt great, but if he carried on doing that for long then I would shoot my load right there, and I didn’t want that. I was also scared that someone might come in and catch us - now that would be really embarrassing.
I didn’t need to worry though, the boyfriend had aeady brought her close to the edge and I just needed to provide the finishing touch. With a loud groan and a thrust of her hips she started pumping into my mouth.
Too late I remembered what I had read about putting the tongue over the cock head to avoid being choked by spurting cum, and I started gagging and coughing as her load hit the back of my throat.
She laughed as I pulled back, fighting to swallow the hot sticky sperm, and breathe at the same time.
“Now you’re Jessie’s bitch, white boy,” the black woman gloated. “Once you’ve tasted Jessie’s black meat you belong to me.”
I staggered over to the sinks, coughing and gasping for breath. I’d swallowed most of the thick fluid, but my mouth felt all gummed up and sticky. I splashed cold water on my face and drank a couple of cupped hands full to rinse my mouth.
In the mirror I saw the boyfriend wiping off Jessie’s black cock as it wilted and returned to a more normal size. I couldn’t believe what I had just done, but my cock was still stiff and leaking in my pants.
With her panties back on, Jessie straightened out her dress and walked over to stand beside me, looking at our reflections in the mirror.
“That was pretty good white boy, what’s your name?”
“Rob,” I said. “I guess yours is Jessie?”
“Yeah, I’m Jessie, and that loser is Chuck,” she said nodding her head towards the boyfriend.
I caught Chuck’s eye and he gave me a wink, and blew me a kiss.
“Listen Rob, I’m going to a party, you wanna come? If you like this scene, then you’ll love Max’s place, she always throws a great party.” As she spoke Jessie was fixing her make up. She wasn’t over the top with lipstick and eyeliner like some of the cross dressers I’d seen, and she looked really convincing, even close up. I liked her – which was a good job since I’d just sucked her off.
My first impulse was to say yes and just go along with whatever happened, but then second thoughts crowded in. What if someone ever found out? What would happen to my job? What about my wife and family?
“Aw, fuck it,” I swore to myself, “You’ll never get a better a chance to live your fantasy. Just do it!” I nodded and Jessie gave me big, scarlet-lipped grin.
Chuck slipped his arm through mine and we followed Jessie out the door, passing two other lovers coming the other way. By the looks on their faces I guessed someone was in for a treat.

Chapter 2: Max’s Party

The three of us left The Q Bar and hailed a taxi on Castro Street. As we’d gone through the door I caught the eye of the girl behind the bar. She gave me a little wave and blew me a kiss, and once again I turned bright red, but at least I gave her a smile back.
We squashed up close on the backseat of the cab and I was in the middle. Chuck pressed in close on my right side, and his hand soon got to work stroking my thigh and rubbing my crotch. I would have preferred Jessie to be doing that, but she was pressed hard against my left shoulder and leg, her spicy perfume keeping my pulse pounding.
As we drove Chuck was whispering in my ear about the kind of things we would see and do at Max’s party. What he was describing sounded like a cross between a Roman orgy and a set from an extreme porn movie. I thought that maybe his imagination was running wild, but then this was all new to me. I just hoped that at least some of it was true, and wondered what shape I would be in tomorrow when it came time to fly home.
Twenty minutes later the taxi pulled up outside a large gate in front of a pretty imposing house. I hadn’t seen much of San Francisco during my visit, but this place looked big – and expensive.
Chuck paid the driver while Jessie rang the bell and talked with someone on the intercom. A few seconds later the gate clicked open and we walked up the drive to the impressive, carved wooden doors flanked by white marble columns.
The door opened even before we had a chance to reach it, and a maid curtsied and beckoned us inside. It was only when I stepped through the door and the lights reflected off the woman’s clothes that I realised that her uniform was made of latex.
My cock twitched in my pants as I stared at her. I had seen many porn movies and photos of latex costumes, but this was my first close contact with the real thing.
She was very attractive, and maybe in her mid-twenties. The black and white outfit gleamed in the bright lighting, and the short dress showed her legs off nicely in the transparent latex stockings. Her black stiletto heels were impossibly high, but she did an excellent job of walking in them as she led us into the house.
Jessie asked her if Max was around and the girl pointed up the double staircase that straddled the foyer like spread legs.
The place was huge, and the decorations were superb. Whoever Max was she certainly had a lot of money and very good taste.
Well-dressed people wandered up and down the staircases, most wearing chic evening dress, or very smart casual clothing, and carried glasses of champagne or cocktails. There was the gorgeous click-clack of high heels on the marble floor as the ladies moved from room to room.
Jessie dismissed the maid and led us through a double door into what I assumed was the lounge. Once again I was impressed by the décor, but the guests impressed me more.
Just like at The Q Bar, the mix of couples covered just about every possibility, but there was no smuttiness here. Lesbians, gays, cross dressers or fetishists; they were all in their best clothes, and on their best behaviour.
I couldn’t help but stare. Everywhere I looked there was silk and satin, leather and lace, and very elegant rubber and latex outfits. And of course there were even people dressed like myself, in more conventional clothing.
Another latex maid approached and offered a tray of glasses for our choice. She curtsied prettily and smiled politely, but this one was a young man. She was cute, stylish and young, but definitely a man. We all chose glasses of champagne and the maid wandered off in her towering heels.
Jessie was scanning the crowd looking for familiar faces, and she occasionally gave a little wave and a smile as she recognised someone. But if she was looking for Max then she was disappointed.
After sipping our drinks for a few minutes and surveying the scene, Jessie decided that we should go upstairs and try to find our hostess there.
As we moved towards the stairs she pulled me closer and looked hard into my face. “Listen Rob,” she said, “I want you to promise me that whatever you see upstairs stays upstairs, OK? You don’t tell anyone what goes on up there.”
I had no idea what there could be upstairs but it sounded exciting. I nodded and said, “I promise, no problem. You think I want anyone to know what I did tonight?” And I was serious too. If my family, friends or colleagues ever found out I would be ruined. Anyway, it had been impossible for me to see which route the taxi had taken, so I had no clue where we were, and who was this mysterious ‘Max’? I had no idea.
Jessie believed me and turned back to the stairs, so I followed her delicious, silk-clad ass up the wide sweeping staircase. My heart was pounding again, this time with anticipation. Chuck followed behind me, and I suspect his eyes were on my ass as much as mine were on Jessie’s.
A wide mezzanine balcony ran around the top of the staircases, with armchairs, sofas and small tables positioned so that people could sit and chat comfortably.
Music and the buzz of conversation drifted up from the floor below, but it was the sounds coming from the corridor ahead of us that grabbed my attention. This was music of a different kind, the sounds of sex.
The thick, soft, fitted carpet led us into a wide corridor with doors open at regular intervals on both sides. A gorgeous mix of elegantly, and erotically dressed people wandered in and out of the rooms, or stood in doorways watching whatever was happening inside.
Jessie walked over to the first door on the right and I followed, trying not to seem too eager. There were a couple of people standing in the doorway, so Jessie politely eased past them to see if Max was in there. I was taller than them, so I stood and looked over their shoulders – and my eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
In the centre of the room, and the centre of attention, were two people, a man and a woman. It was clearly a real man and a real woman.
The man was naked except for a black leather gimp hood, with eye covers and an open zipper mouth. He was standing bent over at 90 degrees, with his head and wrists locked into a wooden set of stocks. His legs were held open by a stretcher bar attached to his ankles.
A few feet away to his left was the woman. She was suspended in a leather harness swing attached to the ceiling, with her arms and legs spread wide, and her body supported on her back almost horizontally. She was wearing a gorgeous bright red latex corset, black silk stockings, and glossy black high heel boots. A feathery mask covered the top half of her face. But with her pale skin and long blond hair contrasting against the red and black, she looked very beautiful.
A powerful looking man dressed from head to toe in black latex was sodomising the man in the stocks. His long, slow thrusts into the man’s anus were controlled and deliberate.
I was certain that the bound man would normally have been groaning with each thrust of that big cock, but his mouth was very effectively gagged. At the man’s other end a woman dressed as a kinky schoolgirl had lifted her skirt and was sliding her cock in and out of the gimp mask mouth zipper. It was an amazingly erotic spectacle, but not as erotic as what was happening with the girl
Between the gorgeous girl’s silky legs stood a woman dressed as a bride. The white satin gleamed in the lights as the bride held the hem of her gown high enough for her cock to penetrate the bound blonde.
In addition to the pure white dress, the bride was wearing white stockings, and white high heel shoes. She even seemed to have a garter around her thigh. A nice touch I thought. Her white lace veil had slipped a little, but her shoulder-length black hair looked neat and glossy. The bright red lipstick mouth was squeezed tightly shut as she concentrated on taking her pleasure from the helpless girl.
From where I was standing I couldn’t tell whether the bride was fucking the girl’s pussy or anus, but it was a fantastic sight.
Around the walls of the room a few people stood and watched the action, and a few lucky men and women were taking advantage of the spectacle to add visual stimulation to the oral sex they were receiving from their partner.
Too bad I had no one to do anything with, although I suspected that Chuck would have been only too happy to oblige.
Apparently Max wasn’t in this room and Jessie pushed her way out. We left the sound of wet slaps and moaning behind us as we crossed to the next room.
My cock was straining against my trousers as we walked into what looked like a scene from some Nazi BDSM movie.
A large muscular black man was hanging naked by his wrists from the ceiling, and his legs were held wide apart by chains attached to rings in the floor. His toes could just touch the ground, and he was straining to support his weight. Sweat stood out on his face and body, and dripped off his chin.
His cock was enormous and fully erect, glistening with sweat, pre-cum and saliva. But heavy metal blocks had been attached to his balls, and the weights swung back and forth between his legs.
Two visions of sadism walked slowly around the victim, both dressed in tight female Nazi uniforms. Both blondes, their white blouses were straining from the pressure of their large breasts, and the skirts were tight across their voluptuous asses. They strutted and paraded in their incredibly high heels, menacingly swishing a riding crop and short leather whip.
Without warning the shorter of the two women lashed out and caught the man a cracking blow across his ass. It sounded as loud as a pistol shot in the room, and he would have screamed except for the red plastic ball gag filling his mouth.
The weights between his legs swung wildly as his body jerked away from the whip. His wet cock slapped against his belly and the two women laughed at the sight.
It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen in my life. My eyes were bulging and I really needed some relief before I exploded.
As we stood watching, a well-dressed man stepped out from the group of spectators and walked in front of the black man. He knelt down and took the end of the black cock in his mouth and started sucking.
Oh God, I was nearly shooting my load in my pants. I was sweating like a pig and dying to jerk off.
The two women began a rhythmic flogging of the black man. The crop and the whip taking turns across his back, thighs and ass. And all the while the white man in evening dress knelt and sucked on him, sweat from the victim’s chin dripping onto his head.
“Which of them would you rather be?” someone whispered into my ear. “Which would you prefer to take the place of?” It was a woman’s husky voice, and she was close behind me.
Now that was a good question - which would I want to be? I definitely did not want to be the black guy. I had some mild masochistic tendencies, but it was more for humiliation than pain. What about the guy sucking the victim’s cock? No, not really – I’m not that gay. I would have had to be ‘forced’ to do it. So what about the blonde sadists? To be honest I would rather have been kneeling for them, licking their shoes and ass holes than holding the whip. I guess I could give someone a good whipping, but I would need something very sexy to be happening to me while I was doing it.
“I think I’d rather have a session with those two girls,” I hissed back over my shoulder, “But not on the end of their whips. I prefer their shoes.”
“Hahaha, very good,” the mysterious voice replied. “And if I could arrange that, what would you do for me?
Wow, I didn’t believe that was possible, but what a dream! “If you could arrange some time with those girls, I guess I’d do just about anything.” I was drooling at the idea. I think if someone had touched my cock right then I would have filled my shorts with sticky cum.
A leather-gloved hand touched my right arm and eased me to one side. Then the glove’s owner stepped in front of me and my God, what a knockout! She was oriental, maybe Japanese, and exquisite. Long shiny black hair braided down her slender back, with the perfect face of an Asian angel.
She smiled up at me, and kept the hand resting gently on my bicep. Once I could tear my eyes from hers, I let with wander down over her body, and what a body!
Clad in a skin-tight red latex dress, her wonderful breasts were half exposed and pushed up to the point of escape. I ogled my way down the slippery dress, which ended just above her elegant knees, to the red high-heeled shoes on her delicately small feet.
Was I drooling? I felt like it. And the touch of her hand on my arm was electric.
“So, like anything that you see?” she said, through lips coated with lip-gloss.
God, I was speechless. I’d never been this close to anyone so beautifully erotic before.
“You said just now that you would do anything for me, if I could arrange a session with those girls.”
I nodded, mesmerised by her face, and her eyes that seemed to promise eternal pleasure.
“Well, I tell you what. If you go out there and fuck that big black man in the ass, in front of all these people, then you can have those two girls for the night. What do you say?
I swallowed hard, my mouth and throat dry. “You are kidding, right? I mean, you couldn’t arrange that could you?” But if she could, would I keep my end of the bargain? Would I really fuck that guy in front of everyone?
The vision laughed, and turned on her sharp stiletto heel, walking into the centre of the room.
“Friends, guests,” she said, holding up her hand for silence. “I have something for you, a promise.”
My breath caught in my throat and my knees turned to jelly. Who was this woman?
“This man – this straight man, has made a bargain with me. I promised him tonight with Melissa and Michele here,” and she stepped over to the two sadistic Nazi’s and rested a hand on each uniformed girl. “I promised him tonight with them, if he will fuck Nigel here in front of all of us.” She strutted over and slapped the black man hard across the ass.
The people in the room all turned to smile at me and gave me a huge round of applause. I blushed like a schoolgirl.
“But,” she said, “but, if he cannot perform, or if he fails to complete the fucking, then he must pay a forfeit.” And she grinned evilly at me. I didn’t know what that might be, but I sure didn’t want to fail, it was bound to be bad.
“What’s the forfeit to be Max? Someone called out.
So this woman was the Max that we were looking for – she was our hostess. I swallowed hard again with a dry mouth. If she was running this whole evening and this was her house, then I had better not let her down.
She laughed and turned to look at me, grinning wickedly. “If he fails. If he lets me down, then there is only one suitable penalty,” and there she paused for effect. “If he cannot complete the fuck, then he must take Nigel’s place. Straight Man here will be our next Whipping Boy!”
The crowd cheered and applauded wildly, obviously happy to think of someone else becoming their entertainment.
“Strip, strip, strip,” someone in the audience started chanting, and everyone else took up the call.”
That idea scared me. There was no way in this world that I wanted to be strung up and tortured like Nigel was. But now I’d been put on the spot I had better perform.
I looked around the excited faces and noticed that Jessie was scowling at me, her arms folded across her chest. Chuck didn’t look too happy either; I think he’d hoped that he would get my cock tonight.
“Come on then straight boy,” the Asian Goddess teased me, “show us what you can do. You do want the lovely twins tonight, don’t you?”
“Twins,” I gasped, “Oh my fucking GOD!” That was even better - ten times better.
Someone pushed me in the back and I stumbled into the centre of the room.
“Strip, strip, strip,” went the chant. So I did. Slowly, and with a burning red face I peeled off my clothes while everyone moved into a good position to watch.
Fortunately I have a reasonable body, and my cock is pretty good too. At least I’ve never had any complaints, and it’s never let me down – so far.
I dropped my clothes in a heap at my feet and finally looked at Nigel. His eyes were wide with fear, and I suddenly wondered if he was gay or straight? Or if he had ever been fucked in the ass? For some reason when Max had offered the deal I had assumed that he must be gay, after all, there was a man sucking his dick at the time. Maybe I had been wrong?
That worried me. If he was an ass virgin then it would be a hard fuck – virtually a rape.
My cock was standing almost vertical and it was leaking badly. My balls were pretty tight and after all I had seen this evening I was sure there would be a good load produced when the time came.
The crowd was chattering away and everyone was having a ball, except poor Nigel that is. More and more people were pushing into the room to watch, attracted by the noise and the excitement.
I walked around Nigel to check out the size of the task. I glad it was me that was going to be doing the fucking and not the other way around – his cock was twice the thickness of mine and half as long again. He would split me in half if he tried to fuck me with that club.
“Before you boys get started,” Max interrupted my inspection, “we all practise safe sex here, don’t we friends?” Everyone cheered in agreement. “So use this,” Max said, tossing a condom over to me.
I missed the catch and the silver foil square landed just in front of Chuck, who was standing at the front of the crowd to get the best view. He bent and picked the condom up. “Mind if I put this on for you Rob?” he said with a wink, and ripped the envelope open with his teeth.
He walked over to me, extracting the rubber as he came. He was enjoying all the attention and the catcalls, mincing his hips as he walked.
Max laughed, “So you two know each other, OK, then let’s see you put it on him Chuck, but no hands, OK?” Everyone in the room laughed at that one, and I was puzzled. How could he put a condom on my throbbing cock without using his hands?
But Chuck must have faced this challenge before because he just dropped to his knees in front of me. He put the condom in his mouth, making his lips into a firm ‘O’, and advanced on my stiff shaft.
I’ve never had sex in public before, but this was a real turn on.
Chuck put his hands on the backs of my thighs and manoeuvred his lips over my cock head. He must have had quite a lot of practise at doing this because by using delicate movements of his lips, teeth and tongue, he was able to slowly push the rubber down over my cock. And I have to say it felt great. It was so good in fact that I was scared that I might blow my load right there.
Slowly, and with the crowd cheering him on, Chuck worked the thin latex sheath down my shaft, taking it inch by inch further into his mouth. And even when my cock reached the back of his throat he carried on, swallowing me deeper. The condom was fully on, but he just wanted to show off.
“OK Chuck, if you want to show off your oral skills, why don’t we change the competition and make it a bit more of a challenge,” Max said, strutting around us.
“Let Rob get on with fucking Nigel,” she went on, “but you get to suck Nigel off. Whoever cums first, wins!” The crowd loved that and gave a huge round of applause and cheering. I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea - Chuck was pretty good with that mouth of his and he’d almost had me going just by putting on the condom.
Chuck gave me a wink and a big lip-smacking grin as he enthusiastically knelt in front of Nigel’s huge organ. I knew I didn’t have long, so I moved quickly behind Nigel, my hard-on bouncing in front of me as I walked.
“Here, use this, it’ll help,” Jessie had moved closer and seemed to have relaxed a bit. She tossed me a tube of lube. I flashed her a smile of thanks and started slathering my rubber-covered shaft with it. Chuck had aeady taken Nigel’s cock-head in his mouth and was moaning with delight as he worked on it.
To help with the fucking I covered my right-hand fingers with lube and started rubbing the tips over Nigel’s tight ass hole. I needed to work fast or it would be my ass being reamed if Max got her way.
Nigel groaned with pleasure as Chuck swallowed his cock, and I buried my slippery fingers into his anus.
I couldn’t do much more to lube him otherwise Nigel might shoot his load and I would have shot myself in the foot. So, with my left hand I did what I could to spread his ass cheeks, and with my right hand I guided my cock-head to his puckered brown shit hole.
Sweat trickled down my skin as I concentrated on penetrating the bound Nigel. Even with all the lube it was hard work, he was so damn tight. But I pushed, and pushed harder, forcing my cock past his sphincter muscles, entering his anus.
There was nothing Nigel could do to stop his rape. He was bound and spread. Chuck had Nigel’s big black cock down his throat and was massaging his tight balls, trying to milk him as fast as his skilled suction techniques would go, while I was burying my cock as deep and fast as I could in his ass.
The crowd were roaring us on, but it was just a background noise to me as I finally rammed my cock home, balls deep in Nigel’s super-tight rectum. He grunted and groaned through his gag, and I was sure that he couldn’t last much longer.
With a hand on each of Nigel’s sweaty hips for leverage, I began to hump his black muscular ass, standing on tiptoe to drive every inch of my shaft up into him.
I haven’t had much anal experience, either giving or receiving, but it felt good up there. Good, tight and hot. But I needed a stimulant to get me over the edge, and the two twins were on hand to provide it.
Whether it was Melissa or Michele I don’t know, but one of them came and stood behind me while her sister stood at my side. They both started caressing me with their whips, and giving little, light smacks across my ass and things, beating me gently to the rhythm of my thrusts into Nigel.
The lust I had for those sadistic bitches in their Nazi uniforms was overwhelming, along with the humiliation of fucking this black man in front of everyone. A whip stroked my balls and the pressure surged up my cock, pushing me over the edge.
With a tremendous thrust I drove my cock as deep as I could into the tight black hole, and screamed out my pleasure as I emptied my balls. My eyes were closed with rapture as my body spasmed and pumped into Nigel, my breath held as I orgasmed.
Finally I needed to drag in a ragged breath and breathe again, ending my rape of Nigel. My legs slumped and my cock plopped free of Nigel’s fuck-hole, and I dropped to my knees.
I don’t think that Nigel felt much of my exit from his ass though, because just at that second he shot his own load into Chuck’s welcoming throat.
“MMMMfffff,” was all he could manage though as he took second place in the race to orgasm.
Chuck gagged and coughed as he swallowed as much jism as he could manage, but frothy white cum still bubbled out of his lips, stretched wide my the fat black shaft.
I knelt and watched as Nigel finally stopped pumping, and Chuck let the deflating cock slip out of his mouth. He swallowed a few mote times to empty his mouth of the sticky fluid, then stood and gave a bow to the applauding audience. He had come second, but he seemed to have impressed everyone.
Max walked over to me, bent down and pulled the used condom off my floppy, wilted cock. She held it up so that everyone could se the load of sperm I had deposited into it.
“Well, we have a winner,” she declared, a little wistfully I thought. “So that means we have a loser,” she announced, pointing at the unfortunate Nigel. She was hanging by his arms, clearly exhausted by the whipping, fucking and draining.
“Anyone who wants him can have him,” Max announced, and a big cheer went up from the crowd. A shiver ran down my back at the enthusiasm for the mob – I was sure glad that it wasn’t me hung up there.
I regained a little strength and moved to the side as a queue formed behind Nigel. If he had been an anal virgin before me, then that would be ancient history by the time he’d been stretched by the cocks and strap-on dildos coming his way in the next hour or so.
Melissa and Michele came over and helped me to my feet, and Max joined us.
“I always keep my word,” the Asian Dominatrix said, with a rueful smile, “so you get to play with these sweet creatures for tonight, or at least as long as you can manage.” And she laughed.
“Take him to the Costume Room, and see what suits him,” she said, and walked out of the room.
With a Nazi blonde bombshell on each arm I followed her, but I looked back over my shoulder as we left. Nigel was aeady taking another cock in his ass, and a woman was sucking on his drooping cock, trying to get him hard again. It was going to be a hard night for Nigel, but what about me? My cock twitched at the thought of having these evil witches all to myself.
“I wonder what the Costume Room is all about,” I thought as Melissa and Michele steered me down the corridor.
Does anyone like this? I'm happy to write the next chapters if you like it. But what direction would you like the story to take? Would you like to make Rob more homosexual, straight...into something more kinky 😉
He's going to enjoy those two sadistic girls... But do we want him to find pleasure in the pain of a good whipping, or a hard strap-on session?
How about he gets into a tight latex outfit, and 'used' by both the girls and others at the party?
Kinkier the better suits me.
Just let me know if you like it.
Have a great Christmas and New Year. *KISS*
(26 Dec 2011, 18:11 )bob_masters Wrote: Does anyone like this?
I like it. I can easily imagine myself in this situation. Even, you described myself. Shy, married, kids, fetish dreams... Bar-Q and Max' house resemble Europerve fetish event I visited in 2001. But unlike "the hero" I was only a spectator.

(26 Dec 2011, 18:11 )bob_masters Wrote: But what direction would you like the story to take?

So far the story looks&feels real. I do not know how much influence you have in this story, usually it's the characters who grab the reins and lead you through 😊

(26 Dec 2011, 18:11 )bob_masters Wrote: Would you like to make Rob more homosexual, straight

Rob (like me) is into girls. But dicks make girls more "versatile". Hence the "futanari" fetish 😉

(26 Dec 2011, 18:11 )bob_masters Wrote: into something more kinky

Rob is exploring himself. So it would be logical for him to try different things even if he does not like them (e.g. the scene with Nigel).

(26 Dec 2011, 18:11 )bob_masters Wrote: How about he gets into a tight latex outfit

I think this is a "must", isn't it?

(26 Dec 2011, 18:11 )bob_masters Wrote: and 'used' by both the girls and others at the party?

Just like in the "Fight club" - if you're new, you must fight 😉 Switch your head off and dive into the deep. Because if you begin to think, the usual doubts, "buts" and "what ifs" will prevail and scare away from the dream which is so close.

What I really miss here is a good title. And probably illustrations. About the latter - I'll have a look in my collection and try to find something suitable.

And the title.... Mmmm.... Was never good at titles. What about such keywords as: trigger, dive, deep, house, twisted. The rubber side of an ordinary shy guy?
Very, very hot. I can't wait to see where it will go!

Very nice 😊
I've almost finished the next chapter and will post it over the weekend. Thanks for reading and posting back to me *KISS*
So, what do you think about the title?
"Just a Drink"
Mmm... How about, "Once you've tasted latex, there's no turning back!" or, "Latex addictions"?
"The rubber side of an ordinary shy guy"?
"The rubber trigger"?
"Caught on a cock" 😉

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