Date: Tue, 17 Dec 2013 00:39:00 +0000
From: Mark Cross <mcross120@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: How bad do I need this job? - part one.

How bad do I need this job? - part one.

After the latest round of redundancies was announced at the Bank I was
working at in London, I thought enough was enough and stuck my hand up for
voluntary redundancy. I was sick of all the office politics, the
in-fighting and back stabbing. It had been obvious for some time since our
department was merged into another department during one of the almost
constant rounds of restructuring the Bank seemed to go through, that I
wasn't going to be promoted anytime soon. Lately, my heart just hadn't been
in it either. I was doing what I needed to get done, but that fresh faced,
energetic, optimistic guy who'd joined the Bank straight from University
had been beaten out of me. Once I dreamed about the corporate world, how I
was going to solve all the major problems of the global banking industry,
how everyone would notice my talents and how I'd be the youngest VP,
Director and then Managing Director the Bank had ever seen. But the
drudgery and banality had take over. Still only 26, I'd been thoroughly
worn down by the corporate machine. Don't get me wrong, the money had been
ok. I had never been one of these traders earning telephone numbers
bonuses, but I did ok. Still, London wasn't cheap, and I had a stack of
debts still from University. With the redundancy payment I was able to pay
off my student debts, and was left with a little bit left over. Time for a
change.

When I was at University I had worked at bars to help pay for my
education. I came from a working class background. My family weren't poor,
but we certainly weren't rich, and whilst my parents helped my out where
they could, it was a drop in the ocean compared to the costs of a
university education in England under new government requirements for
students to pay. Not to mention the cost of living. But I had enjoyed
working in bars. It got me off campus and away from student life into what
I called the real world. And with the music and buzz of people out for a
good time on Friday and Saturday nights I always had fun. It sometimes
didn't feel like work at all, especially when my friends came to the bar
and I'd slip them free drinks, not to mention getting drunk most of the
time myself, all on the house of course. I'd always had a fantasy about
working in the sun too. After University a friend and I had gone to Ibiza
to work for the summer. We imagined the glamour, and how we'd get picked
out to work as go-go dancers in some top Ibiza club and life would be
fabulous. It didn't happen of course. By the time we got there in mid June
all the bar jobs had gone and the only jobs available were working 70 hours
a week handing out flyers. Needless to say, the go-go dancing career didn't
take off either. 10 days later we were back in England working in the same
bar as before with just a suntan to show for it. A few months later I had
started at the Bank. But I'd never forgotten the dream.

So now, freed from both the corporate world and my student debt I had to
decide what to do. I knew at some point I would have to be all grown up and
sensible, and if I was doing that now I would probably have looked for
another job and put the little bit of money I had left over from the
redundancy payment away for a deposit on a house. But I still didn't feel
ready for all that. It was already September, way too late in the season to
try re-enacting my Ibiza dreams. But the sun still attracted me. The last
winter in Europe had been particularly harsh and I didn't relish the
prospect of another one anytime soon. So I decided to do what a lot of
Europeans seeking winter sun do, and head to the Canary Islands.

I'd always been gay and knew it. It was no big deal, but I'd never had that
experimental stage which some guys go through. I liked cock and bum fun.
I'd always been out to family and at work and had no problem with my
sexuality. As a gym-toned 20-something living in London I'd had my fair
share of fun too. I'm 6'2" and pretty good looking, so I'd never had
problem attracting attention, but nothing stuck in terms of a lasting
relationship. So I headed to gay island in the Canaries - Gran Canaria. I
bought a one way ticket. I didn't really have a plan. I just guessed I'd
pick up some bar work, get an apartment, things would work themselves out,
they usually did.

It was already 30 degrees when I arrived. I spent the first week working on
my tan. A lot of the guys on the beach were older, and many were naked, but
I always liked to wear speedos as I liked the look of the tan line, my firm
round bubble bum being enticing against the contrast of the rest of my
tanned body. I managed to find a small apartment, nothing special, but it
would do. I asked at a few of the bars, but no one seemed to have anything
going. To be honest I wasn't really putting much effort into it. Then, one
night was I was in the Yumbo Centre, which is the gay area in the centre of
Maspalomas with all shops, restaurants and bars. I was having a late lunch
after a particularly punishing gym session and I noticed a sign outside one
of the bars: 'Topless waiters required - apply at the bar'. This wasn't one
of the bars I'd half hearted asked about work at already. For some reason,
the idea of working topless kind of appealed to me. I've always enjoyed the
attention that a hard, firm gym-toned body earns, and this way I'd be paid
too. I finished my lunch and headed next door.

There was a guy at the bar undertaking a stock-check. The bar wasn't open
so I assumed he worked here. "Hi, I'm here about the waiting job."

"What's your name boy?" The guy replied. There was something about being
called boy. My uncle had always called me boy, even after I turned 18, and
it used to annoy me, but with this guy there was something authoritative
about it, and it felt right. But then looking at him, I'd have guessed he
was mid-50's, 5'8" tall, with a bit of a middle-aged spread and slightly
balding, so to him I suppose I was a boy. "Andy", I replied, "I'm looking
for a job. I used to work in a bar and wait tables when I was at
University."He looked me up and down like he was checking me out. Although
I was much taller than him he seemed quite intimidating, like he was
undressing me with his eyes. But then the job was for a topless waiter so I
suppose that made sense. "Can you start tonight boy?" he said. "Yes", I
replied."Be here at 10 boy. Your uniform will be waiting for you. Any
questions?"I had lots, but slightly intimidated and quite frankly glad to
have secured a job I just said "No." He went back to his stock take and
ignored me. I felt a bit awkward but thought all the paperwork would be
sorted later so headed home.

I was very excited. I was also a bit confused what he meant by uniform. I
knew it was topless, but I figured I'd just wear some shorts or
something. The night time temperatures in Gran Canaria are generally in the
20's and all the bars and restaurants are open onto the Yumbo Centre where
there is no traffic and most seating is outside. I got myself ready and
headed over to the bar. I got there ten minutes early, wanting to make a
good impression. The bar was just opening. There were a couple of other
guys behind the bar, but they were wearing t-shirts. I saw the guy I'd
spoken to earlier, and realised I didn't even know his name. I went over to
him and said "Hi, it's me from earlier....."

"Follow me" he demanded as much as said. We went through a door behind the
bar to an office-cum-stock room. "Sign-here". He handed me some papers
which were all in Spanish and I didn't understand but I presumed to be my
contract, "it's 2 Euro an hour, any tips you can get you can
keep. Uniform's over there. You will be waiting tables, bring the orders to
the bar and take the payments. Any questions?". The way he said 'Any
questions?', it was always more of a statement than an actual
question. "What's your name?" I replied."Call me Boss."

I signed the contract and he left the room. 2 Euro an hour wasn't as much
as I was hoping for, but I figured the tips would top it up to a reasonable
level. He took the contract and left. The other 2 bars guys were coming in
and out, getting the place ready for the night ahead. I looked over to
where he said my uniform was. There were a pair of black trousers and a
bow-tie hanging on the back of a chair. There didn't seem to be anywhere to
change which posed me a bit of a problem. I'd come wearing shorts which I
generally hung out in, but as it was so hot, I was always
freeballing. Couldn't see the point of underwear on a hot island. I thought
fuck it and started stripping. just as I took my shorts off one of the guys
from the bar came in. He just stopped and watched me. I took the trousers
and put them on. There were very tight, and without underwear looked almost
indecent. But I looked good. The bow-tie made me look like a waiter. "Very
nice" the guy from the bar said.

My first night went well and I made over 50 Euro in tips. I waited the
tables and the guys did the drinks and sorted the money. My Boss was in and
out but mostly just chatting to friends at one of the tables, where I was
to bring them free drinks all night. This continued for a week. The pay was
bad, but the tips were good. I was starting to enjoy myself. After the
embarrassment of the first night I didn't worry when the guys came in when
I was getting changed into my uniform. I continued to freeball, and I liked
the look of myself in the tight trousers, and the attention I got was an
ego boost. The music was blurting out and the customers were fun. I was a
bit flirty with some of them to try and get better tips. Some even squeezed
my bum. I didn't mind too much so long as they left a good tip.

A week later, when I arrived, my Boss said "new uniform" when I arrived. He
was a man of few words. I got on well with the guys behind the bar, but the
Boss was always a different matter. He had this look like he was undressing
me, but he'd got the trousers the perfect size for me so I guess that's why
he looked at me like that. I went through to the backroom and instead of my
trousers there were a pair of black speedos along with my customary
bow-tie. That's strange I thought. Just as I picked them up the boss walked
in and started looking at some office stuff on the computer. I thought I'd
just try them and see what they looked like. I mean I wore speedos at the
beach all day so it was no big deal really. Except that all the customers
and other staff would be fully clothed. I stripped off my shorts, I was
freeballing as usual, and put on the speedos. Tight, but a perfect fit. I
had to admit I looked good in them. With the bow-tie I could just about
pass as a waiter. As I was checking myself out my Boss finished what he was
doing on the computer and just stared at me: "Any questions?"

"No Boss", I replied.

I did feel a little self conscious that night. With everyone else wearing
clothes and me nearly naked it was a bit strange. As the bar was completely
open and most of the tables were outside, I could be seen by everyone
walking past, and it's a very busy place. Lots of people stopped, a few
even took photos. I did start to relax and enjoy it a bit. The customers
seemed especially flirty and I was groped more than once. But the tips were
great, from averaging around 50 Euro a night, I was now getting about
150. I got quite used to it, I'd even say I enjoyed working in my speedo
and bow-tie uniform. It was plenty warm enough and the customers were all
saying how hot I looked, which was a great ego boost.

The following week when I turned up for work the Boss again said to me "new
uniform". What now? I thought to myself. I went through to the back and on
the back of the chair where my speedo had always been set out was a black
g-string. What the fuck? I thought. I looked around. The speedo was no
where to be seen. I thought about it logically. I needed this job, the tips
were good, and was it really than different from a speedo? I stripped off
my shorts and t-shirt and just stood there naked for a second thinking. The
guys were coming through as usual to get various spirits and bottles ready
for opening. I put the g-string on. I'd never worn a g-string before. I now
knew where they called it a g-string. The thin string of fabric went right
up through my bum cheeks, and the pouch at the front barely contained my
junk. I've always thought I'm quite in proportion when it comes to my
cock. It's not the biggest you'll ever see, but it's perfectly proportioned
for my 6'2" frame, and a pretty decent size. I'd always found it bizarre
when you'd see a massive dick on some tiny guy, or a tiny dick on some
massive guy. I actually quite liked the feeling of the string between my
bum cheeks and as I moved from side to side to check myself out could feel
it gently rubbing my sphincter. I guess that's where the g in g-string
comes from. I had to admit it looked hot - my white bubble bum against the
black of the g-string and tanned toned muscle body.

I felt self conscious again, like everyone was looking at me that
night. And a lot were. You could say I was the centre of attention. Lots of
people, all fully dressed, looking at me. I got lots of compliments from
the customers, and people were saying "Let's come back here again". The
guys behind the bar teased me, but I think they were jealous. They didn't
go to the gym, and they were stuck behind the bar whilst I was getting all
the attention not to mention the tips. Me, nearly naked in a crowded
tourist area, waiting tables. When I went over the Boss's table his friends
were all making lewd suggestions about what they'd do to me. I didn't say
anything because I didn't want to make the Boss unhappy. One of his friends
asked Boss if I'd give him a lap-dance and the Boss ordered me to do it. I
didn't really know what I was doing but just kinda danced around for
him. He put a 20 Euro note in my g-string, slipping it in the front, taking
his time and feeling my cock underneath the fabric as he did. My cock
responded and started getting hard but Boss told me to get on with my work
so nothing else happened. At the end of the night I had nearly 250 Euro in
tips. As I'd only earned 10 Euro from working, this meant nearly all the
money came from tips.

When I got to work the next day I saw a sign outside the bar saying
'Lap-dances 5 Euro'. When I went though to the office the Boss was no where
to be seen. My g-string and bow-tie from yesterday was set out on the chair
as normal. As I got ready the Boss came in. He stared as me and said: "See
the sign?" I nodded "Any questions?"

"No Boss," I replied. This wasn't what I signed up for. Now, I was being
forced to lap dance in a g-string in a public bar completely open and for
complete strangers. As I thought about it, my cock started to get
hard. What was happening to me? I put the thought out of my mind and went
through to the bar. I think I did 8 dances that night. They were all in the
bar area rather than a separated area as the Boss thought it encouraged
other patrons to get a lap-dance, especially when the drinks started
flowing. I started getting into it. I was still waiting the tables but now
doing the dances as well. Sometimes we'd get quite an audience. There was
one group of guys I did a dance for at a table right at the front, which
meant it was in the main area of the Yumbo centre. I got a round of
applause from a crowd when the song finished. I was really getting off on
the thought of everyone watching me. Me, naked, apart from a thin piece of
material, and everyone watching me fully clothed. When I got changed after
work that night I noticed there was the white stain of pre-cum on the
inside of my g-string.

The next day when I arrived at the bar Boss said to me "I noticed your
uniform needed cleaning so I got you a fresh one". I think that was the
most he'd said to me. I thought I noticed a wry smile from him, but didn't
think anything of it. When I went through to the back on the chair was a
black sheer g-string and my customary bow-tie. I picked it up and you could
see my hand right through the fabric. I'd be wearing something, but you'd
be able to see me practically naked. I noticed something on the string. It
had been tamped with. At each side was a piece of velcro allowing it to be
popped on and off in an instant. If I wore this I would be practically
naked and all anyone would need to do would be to pop the velcro and I'd be
naked. In a bar full of drunk horny gay guys, that could be quite
dangerous. As I pondered the situation one of the bar guys popped his head
around the door with a drink: "large vodka, courtesy of the Boss". Strange,
I thought, but I took it and downed it, I needed the Dutch courage. I think
the vodka did the trick. I stripped off my shorts and t-shirt and put on
the see-through sheer g-string. I tested the velcro straps. It wouldn't
take much to release them. I stood there in the g-string, completely see
through. It was Saturday night, our busiest night.

There were a couple of guys sat at one of the tables at the front where is
was most exposed. One of the bar guys passed me two cocktails and told me
they were for these guys. I headed to the front of the bar into the Yumbo
centre. The guys hadn't seen me until I arrived at their table as they had
their backs to the bar. "Wow - don't you look hot" said one of them, "Are
you the guy that does the lap-dances asked the other" almost in
disbelief. "Yes," I replied, "They're 5 Euro for one song, you can pay at
the bar."

"Although we can already see everything so I'm not sure what more there is
to see" he said to his friend, laughing as he gave me a slap on the bum.

It was a busy evening. I was getting a lot of comments and I did a few
dances too. I was starting to feel a little light headed from the free
drinks I was getting. My cock was beginning to stir too. I couldn't hide
anything. As the evening went on I sprouted a full on hard-on. I had
no-where to hide it and it just wouldn't seem to go down. My g-string was
tenting and my 8 inch cock sticking up like a rocket. The customers loved
it. The Boss called me over to give a lap dance to one of his friends. As I
was gyrating around the guy had his hands on my hips whilst my tented boner
almost slapped him in the face. "What's this...." he asked, he pulled one
side of the velcro and one whole side of the g-string opened up. My hard
cock just popped out full mast whilst the g-string hung over my hip. He
pulled the velcro on the other side and the g-string fell to the floor. I
was now completely naked with a huge hard on in the middle of a crowded bar
open to a busy tourist area. I just looked at the Boss. "Finish the dance
boy" he ordered in a way which just made me look stupid for thinking I
should be doing anything else. I finished the dance. Pre-cum was oozing
from my cock and as I danced some flew off and landed on my Boss's
boot. "Lick that off boy" he ordered. I just looked at him. He stared at me
and just pointed as his boot, never breaking eye contact. I got down on my
knees and started to lick the drop of pre-cum off his Boot. My cock felt
harder than ever. He started to play with it with his other boot. I just
kept licking. "Good boy, now table 7 are ready to order." I got up and
looked for my g-string. At least it had been something covering my
nakedness. My Boss had put it on the table in front of him, as I reached
for it he snatched it away: "Now boy" he barked. I went over to table
7. The bar was crowded. Everyone was groping and grabbing me. I was
completely naked with an erection amongst all these clothed men. My heart
was racing but I had never felt so hard, like my cock was literally made of
granite.

My Boss got up from his table "Follow me boy" he demanded and walked out of
the bar in to the main part of the Yumbo Centre. I didn't know what to
do. It was a busy Saturday night and there were people everywhere going
about their nights out. He didn't look back. I don't know what came over
me. I decided to follow him. I walked out of the bar into the main area of
the Yumbo Centre. I was complete naked and hard. From when I started
working in the speedo I'd worked bare foot, and I'd lost my bow-tie at some
point during the evening. The feeling of the cool concrete under my bare
feet just reinforced how naked I felt. People were jeering and whistling at
me. I didn't care. I just ignored them and quickened my step to catch up
with my Boss. He marched across the Yumbo Centre and went into one of the
clubs called Basement. I followed. The guy on the door greeted my boss like
an old friend: "New boy Frank?" he said (so that was my Boss's name),
"Yeah, submissive little pup, does everything I tell him". They were
talking about me as if I wasn't there and not once did the doorman
acknowledge me. My Boss went through the bar, I went to follow but the
doorman blocked my way. "10 Euro entry" he demanded. "But I don't have any
money on me I replied" wondering why I needed to point out the
obvious. "Then you'll have to pay some other way won't you" the doorman
replied. I just looked at him and he stared back. There was a screen
blocking the door from the main drag of the Yumbo but it was otherwise
exposed and still outside. I hesitated. There was a queue forming behind
me. I got down on my knees and unbuttoned the doorman's fly and took out
his cock and started to suck it. He quickly became hard in my mouth. It
wasn't so long, but it was thick. "10 Euro mate" the doorman said to the
guy behind me, he was ignoring me and carried on serving the guy behind me!
"And how much for a go on the bitch" the guy behind me asked the
doorman. "Oh don't worry," he replied. "this bitch is free for anyone to
have a go - just speak to Frank."

The doorman continued to serve guys coming into the club as I sat on my
knees naked and hard outside, sucking his big thick cock. I could feel his
cock start to convulse and he shot a load into my mouth. "Don't swallow" he
ordered. "Get up and show me my cream in your mouth". I got up and opened
my mouth. It was full of his seed. I stood there with my mouth open full of
his cum. "10 Euro mate" he continued to serve as I stood there naked with a
mouth full of cum open for anyone to see what was in my mouth. "Right
something to add to the flavour," and spat in my mouth. "Now swallow". I
closed my mouth and swallowed. I caught myself licking my lips. "What do
you say?". "Can I go in now?" I replied. He slapped me hard across the
face. "Wrong answer cumdump - aren't you grateful for my cum?"

"Thank you for your cum," I offered up."Thank you what...."

"Thank you for your cum, Sir."

"Now you're getting it cumdump." He tweaked my nipples hard with his
hand. "Now get inside."

I made my way inside. My Boss was sat at the bar, I went over and sat on
the stool next to him. "On the floor boy". I got off the stool. "Knees". I
got down on my knees. He took out a black leather dog collar and fasted it
around my neck, then attached a dog lead to it and continued with his
drink. I sat there on my knees, naked in the bar. I could feel all the eyes
on my exposed body. I was still rock hard and a bit light headed. I was
beginning to think there was more than just vodka in that drink at the
start of my shift. This was all new to me, but I somehow felt I was doing
the right thing. My mind was racing and although I was sure my drink had
been spiked, my erection felt real. I hadn't touched myself once all
evening, although several guys in the bar had grabbed my cock.

When my Boss finished his drink he got off his stool and started walking.
The lead went from slack to virtually pulling me over. I quickly got to my
feet so as not to fall over and followed. He led me down some stairs. There
were people everywhere is various different outfits. Some in leather, some
rubber, some just jeans and boots, and some were just wearing jock-straps.
But I was the only one naked. There were several ante-rooms. There were
some old boxy TVs playing porn, which was difficult to see through the
smoky atmosphere. My Boss led me past a line of cabins. He stopped outside
the last one and opened the door. "Get in". I went in and he closed the
door with me on the inside and him on the outside. There were several glory
holes in the cabin, and an open drain in the middle of the tiled floor. It
felt cold against my bare feet, constantly reminding my of my nakedness and
vulnerability. The Cabin was all black but pretty well lit up. The back of
the cabin had a clear perspex window. I could see movement on the other
side but because of the bright lights I couldn't see anyone. Basically, it
was set up so that I could be seen by anyone, but I couldn't see anyone
myself. There was a latch on the door. I decided to put it down. I don't
know why, but I think it's what Boss would have wanted.

After a minute of so adjusting to my new bright environment. I saw a cock
pushed through one of the glory holes. It was regular cock height so I had
to get down on my knees to suck it, presumably the reason Boss had left me
here. The cock was long and thin. I went down on it, alternating between
sucking and wanking it. After a few minutes I could hear faint pants and
the cocked pulled back slightly with the result that it exploded all over
my face and not in my mouth. The guy came lots, I was quite covered. I
licked my lips and could taste some of it dribbling into my mouth, but
otherwise left it on my face. The cock was soon replace by another one,
which I went down on with equal gusto. I was starting to understand my
place and was beginning to enjoy it. The thought that I didn't know who was
watching on the other side of the window made it even hotter. I secretly
hoped Boss was watching and was proud of me. As I sucked the cock, another
cock popped through one of the other glory holes and I alternated between
them. There I was, naked on my knees, my clothes back at the bar, which was
by now probably closed anyway, my face covered in cum, sucking cocks of
complete random strangers. I began to masturbate myself.

As one of the cocks started to erupt I drank down the sweet nectar which
exploded inside my mouth. As that cock finishing erupting, I went back to
the other cock and started sucking it with equal gusto. The cock which had
just cum started going soft but the guy didn't pull out of the glory
hole. Instead it's slowly started to piss into the cabin. I moved back to
it so the stranger was pissing through the glory hole directly onto me. The
warm liquid felt so good on my naked body and dribbled down my torso before
forming a pool around my bare feet and leaking down the drain in the middle
of the cabin. I leant towards the glory hole and the piss splashed all over
my face and in my hair. It smelt pungent, not like my own piss, stronger. I
guessed he'd been drinking beer. As I breathed in the aroma I opened my
mouth and the acrid liquid hit my tongue. As first I spat it out but then
let in gather in my mouth before dribbling over my lips. As the stream came
to an end the other cock started to piss as well. I moved over to it. This
time I put the cock straight into my mouth and formed a seal. My mouth was
now filling up with a strangers piss. My hair and body already stank of
piss. As my mouth filled I decided to swallow. I felt nervous but as soon
as I swallowed that first load I just kept swallowing as the stranger
pissed effectively straight into my stomach. I felt an amazing feeling of
eroticism engorge my body. As I swallowed the strangers' piss I started to
moan and without even touching myself my cock started to convulse. I began
to shoot again the wall of the cabin, load after load of hot semen spewed
from my cock. It was the most intense orgasm I'd ever had. As the stream of
piss into my mouth died down and my cock finally stopped spewing hot cum
all over the cabin I fell back on my heels exhausted. There was still some
piss on the floor which had not drained away and I was sat in a puddle of
it. I looked up. I could sense I was being watched. I leaned over to the
cabin wall and started to lick my cum off it, each time presenting my cum
covered tongue to my voyeurs behind the perspex before swallowing and
licking my lips. After I had cleaned up all the cum I bent over and rubbed
my face in the remaining puddle of piss on the floor, sucking it up with my
lips and again presenting my open, piss filled mouth for inspection before
swallowing. When I'd cleaned up everything I sat back on the floor. Even
now my erection wouldn't go down. I heard a knock on the door of the cabin.
Boss was back to collect me.