Nile's Invitation
Nile,
I've seen your internet history.
Don't worry, I'm not going to expose you - this isn't some cheap extortion scam. Think of this as an invitation. The videos you watch every night on those sleazy sites... How about the real thing? You're tempted, aren't you, slut? I know you. Exactly how you want to be used and stretched and defiled. Bet your boxers are feeling a little wet now.
Meet me at Pompeii Bar, Soho. Tomorrow 8pm.
Or you can keep jerking off to your little videos. Your choice.
Nile stared at his phone in disbelief. Sitting in his open plan office he felt suddenly exposed, seen. He looked around at his colleagues. Was this an elaborate prank from the self-proclaimed 'lads' in his organisation? They were prone to similar antics. But everyone seemed bored and busy with their dull Tuesday afternoon tasks.
No. It couldn't be, this was a little too involved for them. Plus, he was stealth. The 'lads' didn't know he was trans, no-one at the office knew. And the anonymous email had explicitly hinted at making him wet, not hard. You'd have to know he had a pussy for that detail, wouldn't you? Well. Whoever had sent the email was right - he was feeling turned on, at least as much as he was feeling concerned. Some stranger out there knew not only that he was trans, but exactly how to arouse him in a few simple words.
Nile racked his brain a little more. Perhaps one of his previous sexual partners had sent this? Someone who knew he loved being called a slut. That the mere word always sent a rush of warmth and yearning between his legs. Or that he frequently dreamed of being used in the most depraved ways. Whoever it was, he wanted to know more. Needed to. Why not meet at the bar? It could be an old flame trying to rekindle something. And if the guy was just a weirdo creep, it was a public place and he could make a quick exit, right?
Nile took a sip of water, then glanced nervously around the room again. He couldn't believe it. He was actually thinking about meeting this stalker-stranger. Is this what being on testosterone was doing to him? Making him desperate enough to put his safety at risk? The warmth and yearning between Nile's legs was growing. His t-dick felt engorged. His cheeks flushed, remembering where he was, surrounded by colleagues and due to give a presentation in a few hours.
Nile was going to do it. Pompeii Bar at 8pm it was.
The next day-and-a-half both dragged and flew by. Being terrified and turned on at once does strange things to the passing of time.
What to wear? It was 6.30pm, back in his flat just South of the river. He'd slipped out of work a little earlier than usual, after an unsurprisingly unproductive day. Outside, the sun was rippling softly over the traffic and pedestrians outside. It was a warm-ish late Summer evening.
Nile looked in the mirror. Partly to check over his brown-skinned complexion, but also meeting himself in the eye. Are you really doing this? He stood naked. A stocky man, with a little body hair on his chest, and more on his thighs. He thought of himself as a a gay bear type. He stroked his rounded, sunkissed belly with his muscular arms, allowing his fingers to wander down to his t dick for the first time that day.
The buzzer rang.
"Delivery for Mr Nile Steadman," said a weary, distorted voice.
Nile rolled his eyes. Of course. He'd been gagging for a little tension relief all day and the moment he finally got to stroke his throbbing dick, he'd been interrupted.
He answered the door in a dressing gown. It was a small package. He tore into it as the door shut behind him, then took a deep breath.
Wondering what to wear? Try these.
See you later Nile
The small typed note seemed unreal. He looked at it again. So this person knew his home address too?
Beneath the note were two black boxes. The first contained a pair of nipple clamps, small enough to be worn under a shirt without being seen... just. The second was a less familiar contraption: some kind of wearable double penetration dildo. The rear dildo was beaded, the front hole dildo was thick and curved too -- designed to rub against his g-spot.
Against his better judgment, he put it on. There was the vertical strip that the dildos were attached to, adjoined to a horizontal strap with a buckle, which he fastened over his lower abdomen to hold it all in place. It all felt so calculated. The dildo for his pussy was thick enough to stretch him out, but not quite long enough to feel fulfilling. It pressed against his g-spot just the right amount to keep him on the edge. Feeling desperate. Needing more. Meanwhile the anal beads rubbed against the pressure in his front hole. It was turning him on and infuriating him at the same time.
He put on the nipple clamps, unsure if what he felt was quite pleasure or pain. Then looked in the mirror, surveying how slutty and 'owned' he already looked, trussed up by the black leather contraption, while his nipples tingled with sensation.
He looked at the clock. It was 7.15pm. Time to go.
Nile had thrown on a loose, black velour shirt and dark jeans before jumping in a taxi to Luigi's. Feeling nervous as the residential streets gave way to the bubbling cityscape, he breathed in the cool air rushing in through the open window.
He shifted continuously in the backseat. The dildos penetrating him were uncomfortable no matter what position he sat in, but he also felt voraciously turned on. The pressure in his anus was verging on painful - the beads were reaching deep inside him. The driver seemed to notice.
"You okay mate?"
"Yes, fine thank you." Nile blushed with embarrassment, then felt himself wetten. Here he was, already being turned into a shameful sex toy for some stranger's satisfaction.
As they pulled up to Pompeii Bar, Nile immediately understood why his anonymous torturer had chosen it. The signage was grimey and tired, with tinted windows and a small wooden door for the entrance. It felt cruisey and intimate.
It was only once he stepped inside, that Nile realised he had no way, no clue or hint to help him identify the person he was supposed to be meeting. He'd been too caught up in the fantasy to worry about the details... He surveyed the room. Nothing leapt out. The bar was narrow, with a faded red carpet and homoerotic Roman-inspired art on the walls. Most of the tables were taken by small groups of middle aged men sipping on pints and exchanging flirtatious glances with each other, in between chatter. None of them looked like the kind to stalk his internet history, but then appearances can be deceiving.
Nile's throat felt suddenly dry. He decided to stand by the counter, he didn't want to sit for a while, if he could help it. The dildo harness was beginning to push him to his limits. The bartender poured him double scotch, which he finished in a few swigs. The bartender began pouring him another.
"No thanks - I'm good for now."
"It's from table number three. For you." He slid the drink across the bar. "At the back, on the right. Second to last table."
Nile raised an eyebrow, picking up the drink and turning to see who his benefactor was. It still wasn't clear, there was a group at the table described. And they seemed to be in their own world -- with their raucous laughter they were easily the loudest in the room.
Nile quickly washed the second glass down. He was done with the cat and mouse. He wanted answers.
"Thanks for the drink. To whom do I owe the pleasure?" Nile announced to the small table of strangers who now all turned to face him. They looked to be mid thirties to mid forties, and each handsome in their own way.
"I see our special guest has arrived."
Nile felt a hand on his lower back.
"Why don't you join us, Nile?"
The man caressing the arch of his back was impressively tall. Around 6'4 Nile guessed. Somewhere in his forties too, with a thick beard and a voice that suggested experience, confidence, control. His eyes were dark. Not just in color but in... sentiment. Something calculated resided there.
He pulled out a stool, gesturing for Nile to sit down. Transfixed, Nile took the seat, visibly wincing as the pressure in his ass and pussy increased.
The man chuckled. He turned to the table. "Nile's wearing the special little harness I gave him." The table broke into knowing smiles. Nile felt the heat rush to his face in embarrassment. They were all in on it. He felt humiliated.
"Don't be shy. This is what you like, isn't it? Being turned into a little slut."
The burning in Nile's cheeks intensified. But so did the tingling, the yearning between his legs. He bit his lips, trying to steady himself, regain control, figure out why on earth he'd agreed to this. And why it was turning him on.
"Who are you? What do you want?" He managed to say, shakily.
"Well who do you want me to be Nile? And what do you want? Because that's why you're here, isn't it?" The man took a sip of his drink, a pint of dark ale. "But for practical purposes, you can call me Sir."
The table was looking at Nile expectantly, as if waiting for a response. He hesitated for a moment, the background chatter of the bar ringing in his ears. He said it quietly. "Yes, Sir."
Sir frowned. "Sorry what? A little louder."
Nile took a deep breath. He hated himself for it, but the longing ache in his pussy told him he did want this. "Yes. Sir." He said, in a voice loud enough to turn a couple of heads on the tables nearby.
"Good. Now that's clear, some ground rules. You'll only refer to me. Do not address anyone else at the table. Your job is to sit there quietly while we have our conversation. Don't speak unless you're spoken to." Sir took out a small black device and placed it in the middle of the table. "Dan, your turn first."
Fuck.
Nile put two and two together. It was a remote control. The double dildo harness he was wearing was mechanized. They were going to torture and tease his holes in plain sight.
Dan pressed one button on the device, and the tip of the pussy dildo began to rotate in a circular motion. It felt like several fingers massaging Nile's g-spot. He let out a gasp. This was no standard vibrator.
Dan pressed another button, looking Nile in the eye as he did so. The anal dildo moved in a similar massage-like circular motion. Sometimes it felt like the two dildos were rubbing against each other, pinching his pussy and ass together. His eyes almost rolled back. The stimulation already felt overwhelming, and they had just started. He buried his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. Trying not to draw attention to himself in the increasingly busy bar.
The table resumed their chit chat, turning occasionally to look at him with smug grins. Sir got up to get Nile another drink -- he needed rehydration, given the beads of sweat on his forehead and the growing wetness between his thighs. The rubbing on his g spot was driving him to desperation, sending shivers down his spine and making him tremble involuntarily. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be fucked.
"Jesus you're a fucking slut. Don't you have any shame?" One of the men at the table smirked. "Letting us use you like this in public."
Nile could barely muster a response. He was too busy trying to stop his body from visibly shuddering with pleasure and need. His face was hot, he felt as if everyone in the bar could see him -- how depraved he was.
Dan passed the remote onto someone else. They pressed a button that made the dildos not just rotate, but vibrate too.
"Oh god". The words escaped him. The buzzing sensation on his sensitive pussy lips and just below his t-dick made him gasp. He felt himself harden. A trickle of wetness escaped his front hole and dribbled to his anus: where the vibrating anal dildo was making his ass spasm and convulse. He could feel his ass trying to push the buzzing, beaded shaft out, but the harness held it firmly in place. He had no choice but to surrender to wave after wave of sensation. The nerve endings in his anus felt electric.
Sir arrived back at the table with a whisky and a glass of water. "Drink up. You'll need it."
Nile reached for the glass of water, his hands shaking so much he spilled several drops on the dark wooden table before it reached his lips.
"Awwww... Our little slut feeling overwhelmed?" The table broke into laughter at Nile's expense again. People across the bar were turning to see what the commotion was. He felt exposed, his face flushed with shame. But the arousal remained. He could think of only one thing, cumming. Even there. In front of a crowd of onlookers.
"Please Sir," Nile leaned into his mysterious torturer's ear, "I need to cum, Sir. Let me go to the bathroom."
"Don't speak unless you're spoken to." Sir replied, without missing a beat. "Now, touch your nipples."
Nile had almost forgotten about the nipple clamps he was wearing. He'd been so focused on the double dildo filling his lower holes. He stared at Sir in disbelief. Touch his nipples? In a public bar? Surely that was too much.
Sir and the rest of the table looked at Nile with sincerity and expectation. He sighed, knowing that they wouldn't be content until he obeyed. Nile downed his third whisky of the evening, then reached his hand tentatively towards his left nipple. The clamp had made it erect and unbearably sensitive. He brushed his fingers over the clamped nipple and felt a sharp stab of pain. He shook his head, dropping his hand to his lap.
Suddenly the massaging and vibrations in his ass and pussy stopped. Sir was holding the device now. He leaned into Nile's ear. "You want the pleasure? Take the pain." He said firmly.
Obediently, Nile touched his nipple again. Trying to disguise it as a scratching movement to onlookers. The stimulation between his legs fired back up. He flinched with each painfully overstimulated stroke. It was agony.
"Good. Now do the other one."
He repeated the motion with his right nipple. Squirming in his seat as both his suffering and arousal built up again. His holes were aching with desperation. The dildos seemed designed to do just enough to keep him hovering at the edge of climax. It was overwhelming. He could barely feel his legs, the pushing, the rubbing, the penetration, the buzzing between them. He thought he might pass out and was sure his wetness had seeped through his trousers to the seat below him.
The men at the table kept pausing their conversation to smile coyly at him, or comment on how pathetically filthy he was. Who in their right mind would be used like this? He was writhing in his seat now, breathing heavily. Shoulders shaking and body occasionally jerking beyond his control. He was sure everyone could see -- that he'd be kicked out by the bar owner any second now. But the prospect of humiliation only seemed to get him off more. He really was depraved. Wasn't he?
At last, Sir interrupted his anguish. The buzzing and rubbing stopped.
"Well, now that we've got our cumdump nicely warmed up, why don't we all give him a go?"
Nile was kneeling on the hard, concrete floor of Pompeii's smoking area. The men from the table stood around him in a circle. They were all jerking off, their cocks growing hard in their palms. All except Sir. He was leaning back against the wall of the small courtyard. Taking long, slow pulls on his cigarette, seemingly content to watch Nile's distress.
Sir seemed to have a special arrangement with the bar owner. The door to the rear smoking area had been locked behind them. No fear of disruption. Nothing to stop these men using him as they wished.
"You can use his mouth. The other holes are mine." Sir exhaled, cigarette smoke curling around his lips.
The men wasted no time. One of them reached for Nile's chin, tipping his head back and pressing his hard cock into Nile's lips.
"Open up, slut."
Nile let the man thrust into his mouth. The head of his cock was much thicker than the shaft, almost too big to fit. Nile strained his jaw, focusing on his breathing as the dick slid back and forth over his tongue, getting deeper and deeper. Eventually the man was pounding Nile's throat, making him gag and splutter with every stroke.
"I can't-" Nile tried to resist.
This brought jeers and sounds of approval from the others. "That's it. Choke on his cock you slut."
The man throatfucking him began to let out soft moans. "Take it you sick slut fuck." He had wrapped his hands around the back of Nile's head and was forcing him down on his erect cock. "Don't pretend you don't jerk off to videos of this online."
Nile felt exposed and degraded. His nose was running, down over his mouth. Thick saliva ran down his chin, dripping onto his shirt. Back and forth. Back and forth. The cock ramming the back of his throat so he could barely breathe. His coughs and splutters only seemed to make it worse, make the fucking more aggressive.
Finally the man gave out a deep, raspy sigh. His hips jerked as his cock unloaded reams of cum into Nile's mouth. He gave it a few more thrusts before pulling out, slapping his wet dick on Nile's face a few times. Wiping the wet tip on Nile's cheek.
"You better fucking swallow." The man looked into his eyes threateningly. Nile looked pleadingly back at him, then swallowed obediently. It was a bodily, strong taste. A little escaped from the corner of his mouth.
Suddenly, the massaging and buzzing in Nile's pants fired up again.
Oh god. Not this.
They were going to throatfuck him while torturing his holes and keeping him on the edge of orgasm. Before he could regain his composure two more men stood in front of him. Dicks in their hands...
When the smoking area torment finally stopped, Nile had lost count of how many cocks he'd taken. After a while, everything had simply become a blur of pain and pleasure he was powerless to stop. The dildos in his pussy and ass rubbing together, sending shivers down his spine and making him weak, while everyone took turns face fucking him. Several of the men had even cum on him twice. The back of his throat felt raw with fucking. His jaw ached. He could barely see through the multiple cumshots that had been carefully delivered on his face - to degrade him, of course. Cum stains marked his black top and trousers.
There was a moment of quiet. The men stepped back to watch Nile quiver and twitch at the end of the long throatfucking session. The dildos were still going, rolling and buzzing, making him burn with desperation and need. His pussy was aching, dick throbbing. With each cock thrust into his mouth he'd been longing, longing that one of them would just fuck him down there. Where he needed to be filled up and stretched out, and given the final release of orgasm. They'd been pounding his throat the way he wanted his pussy fucked.
"Someone... please... fuck me." Nile whispered. His voice hoarse and breaking.
Laughter erupted.
Eventually, Sir stepped forward as if he was going to say something. But his hands reached for his zipper, pulling out a lengthy, girthy cock. Nile braced for another brutal face fucking -- it was what he deserved after all, since he'd not specified where he wanted to be fucked. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, already flinching at the size of Sir's dick. How would it fit in his mouth once it'd grown hard?
Instead, he began to feel something warm on his forehead. A stream running over his eyes and cheeks, dripping into his open mouth, splashing onto his chest. He opened his eyes. Sir was pissing on him, with a knowing, sadistic grin on his face.
Nile spluttered in shock. "What the fu--."
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