Date: Fri, 01 Jun 2007 18:18:59 -0400
From: Josh Armstrong <josh_armstrong2007@hotmail.com>
Subject: Working For Darren - Chapter Five

NOTES>> This is the fifth chapter in the Working For Darren series. *Safe*
sex won't appear in this story all that often, but I trust it appears a lot
in your own lives. *Sex* will appear quite often though, sometimes quite
graphically, and invariably of the gay and BDSM nature, so only read on if
the law of your chosen land allows. The copyright is all mine, subject to
Nifty's rules on the matter.

Sorry it's been a while since my last chapters - life somehow got incredibly
busy. This and the next chapter really belong together, but they got quite
long so I split them in two. But I'll get the next bit online very soon
(promise!) and then it will all make sense. I'm also half way through the
next chapter of my other story, 'Contracted To Justin'. I'll try get that
online soon also.

As always, any feedback you've got is really appreciated, positive or
critical. Do email - josh_armstrong2007@hotmail.com.

CHAPTER FIVE: Mike and the men's room

By the time I got back to the flat that night I had the hardest erection I
could ever remember having. I'd been fully stiff all the way home, and had
had to conceal my incredibly obvious bulge as best I could with an evening
newspaper, because I didn't have a suit jacket I could button shut to cover
up my embarrassment, or even a shirt that I could untuck to hide my crotch.

If I'm being honest, my efforts at hiding the hard cock tenting out my suit
trousers weren't very successful, not least because I was trying my best to
cover the sticky cum stains on my t-shirt at the same time. Needless to say,
I got more than a few funny looks from the other train passengers as I
traveled home. Thank God I hadn't been traveling in the rush hour. Having to
stand in that corner of Darren's office, with my trousers and boxers round
my ankles again, for over three hours, at the end of a long day, had been
tortuous and unbelievably irritating, but at least it saved me the
embarrassment of traveling home in the rush hour, with my obvious hard on
bulging out of my pants, and still damp cum stains on my tee.

All the way home I did that thing where you mentally will your hard on to go
down, but it just didn't work. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't stop
replaying the events of the day through my mind. The being forced to wait
two and half hours for Darren to arrive in the morning, standing in the
corner of his office with my cock out. The being gagged with my own cum
covered boxers while my boss paddled my ass. Darren sharing the fun of
humiliating me with Mike, one of my co-workers, who got to see me in my most
exposed state and then to paddle my already burning ass. The being forced to
jerk off in front of my boss, my co-worker and a video camera, and then
being ordered to lick up my own cum.  Then being forced to suck Mike off in
the office bathroom and, even worse, to stick my tongue up his ass. All the
way up his ass. And then, after the mental torture of how to get from the
men's room to Darren's office without my jacket and shirt, being punished by
my boss one more time, before sucking him off, and then being forced to wait
another three hours. Naked. In that damn corner of his office, terrified a
cleaner might walk in at any minute and see me in all my nakedness. It had
been a humiliating day, a horrible day, a horrendous day. And yet as I
replayed the events in my mind my dick just got harder and harder. I had
never been so horny in all my life.

And things didn't get any better when I got home; though the possibility of
public embarrassment went away, which was a relief. But my dick was still
rock solid hard, which was only a problem because of Darren's parting words
to me that day - "no more masturbation until I say so, OK?"

The events between my third paddling, at the hands of co-worker Mike, and my
boned up journey home went something like this.

After giving me my latest set of orders for later in the day - to suck off
Mike in the men's room at four before returning to his office to give him
his daily blow job at five - Darren told me again to get out of his office.
Well, "fuck off and do some work, gay boy" were his exact words. Having
diligently agreed to my upcoming blow job duties, I diligently obeyed the
latest orders too - quickly waddling over to his office door (knowing better
than to pull up my boxers and pants before I was right by the exit) and
saying "yes sir, thank you sir" as I went. What was wrong with me? It's not
as if I was feeling horny any more - I'd just cum after all - the only
sensation going through my body was pain from the severe ass paddling Mike
had just dealt out.

Come to think of it, what was wrong with Darren and Mike? Why were they so
avidly watching me as I struggled to get dressed? Why was Darren filming me
again? They seemed engrossed as I struggled to get my shirt and tie back on.
I knew I wasn't allowed to pull up my boxers until my shirt and jacket were
on, meaning my recently spent cock and balls were still on show. But it took
me longer than normal to get my top half dressed because I was so stressed,
and so shuck up, and that made buttoning buttons and tying ties a whole lot
more difficult that normal. I started to blush red again, this was so
embarrassing. Especially as Darren seemed to be zooming the camcorder on my
cock and balls. Yet the whole thing was strangely exciting also. Despite
what I just said about not being horny any more, by the time I finally got
to pull up my cummy sweaty boxers I could feel my dick starting to go hard
again. As I pulled them up I got a whiff of the boxers' now quite strong
stench - a mixture of sweat and cum - and that seemed to make me even
harder. Forget about Darren and Mike, the main question remained: what was
wrong with me?

Having finally got myself dressed I thanked my boss again, and snuck out of
his office. As I closed the door I could hear Darren and Mike laughing.
Loudly. Loudly enough to make Lynn, Darren's PA, whose office adjoined his,
look up. She looked at me, and smiled. Not in a polite way, but in a knowing
slightly patronising way. I looked down at myself. I looked pretty
disheveled after my paddling and semi-public wank, and no doubt was still
blushing red. What did she think? What did she know? I didn't stick around
to find out. I politely excused myself, neatening my clothes as I walked
through her office.

I had to walk past a lot of people to get from Darren's office back to my
desk. And as I walked I started to get paranoid. Really paranoid. I couldn't
help thinking that everyone I passed was looking up at me, in exactly the
same way as Lynn.

It wasn't that my face was still blushing red, though it was. It wasn't that
I was still looking a little bit disheveled, though I was, despite my
continued efforts to neaten myself up. It wasn't that I was having to try
and conceal that growing bulge in my pants, though I was. And it wasn't that
I was walking a little funny, though I was, my ass experiencing a whole new
level of pain having taken over 100 paddle swats in less than three hours.

What made me so paranoid was that if Darren had told Mike about my crime,
and my punishment, who's to say he hadn't told someone else? Or everyone
else? I'd never thought of Darren and Mike as being especially good friends.
They didn't seem to hang out together or socialize together - well, not that
I'd seen. Why would Darren have specifically chosen to share my humiliation
with Mike and no one else? What had he told Lynn? What had he told every one
of these people?

Perhaps every one of my co-workers knew about me downloading all that gay
porn, and about Darren punishing me by making me strip down in his office,
and paddling my ass, and forcing me to suck him off. I'd later discover that
while Mike wasn't the only one 'in' on my situation, only a small handful of
my co-workers actually knew what was going on. So my paranoia was just that
- paranoia - no one I was walking past that day knew about or even suspected
what had just happened to me.

But I didn't know that then, so the paranoia remained, and increased with
every person I passed.

By the time I got back to my desk my paranoia had transformed into all out
panic and that, coupled with the fact my ass burned even more once I sat
down, meant I got very little work done that afternoon. In fact by the time
I'd managed to calm myself down, and by the time I'd found a way of sitting
that wasn't actual agony, I realized it was ten to four. Which meant I
needed to get to the second floor men's room. Mike would be waiting for his
blow job, and I dreaded to think what Darren would do if I didn't fulfill
that obligation.

Actually, it only took a couple of minutes to get from my desk to the chosen
men's room, but I decided to make a move as soon as I'd noticed the time, to
make sure I wasn't late.

It was just as well I did, because having to walk to the bathroom, past all
my co-workers again, kicked off my paranoia afresh.

Added to that I began to realize what I was about to do.

I'd earlier accepted my orders to suck Mike off in the toilets without
thinking - acting on this strange new reflex of mine to do whatever Darren
said without even mentally questioning it. And I'd been in such a panic all
afternoon about who knew about what Darren was doing to me, I'd not really
given much thought to the instructions I'd so readily accepted in my boss'
office at lunchtime.

Those orders hit home as I approached the bathroom. I was going to suck off
a co-worker, in a toilet cubicle, in a bathroom where any of my other male
co-workers might walk in.

That thought, coupled with the resuming paranoia, meant I was back in panic
state by the time I reached the men's room. So much so, it took several
minutes of controlled breathing in the corridor outside before I could
persuade myself to go inside. Fortunately this men's room was in a secluded
quiet part of the building, so I don't think anyone saw me, loitering
outside the toilets in a stressed out state.

It had just gone four when I entered the bathroom.

It occurred to me that, with all my panicking, I'd been standing outside the
men's room for a good five minutes before I went in. Yet I hadn't seen Mike
enter. Either he'd arrived very early. Or he was going to arrive late. Or he
wasn't coming (in either sense of the word). Perhaps him and Darren had been
joking about the whole thing.

For the briefest of moments as I entered the men's room - five seconds max -
I managed to convince myself that was it. I wasn't going to have to suck
anyone off in the toilets. It was all a joke. But as soon as I got in there
I could see there was someone in the cubical furthest from the door.
Presumably that was Mike. That's where he'd said he'd be.

Except it then occurred to me that there was no way for me to be certain it
was actually Mike in there. What if he was running late? Or it was all a
joke and he wasn't coming? What if another guy who works here was in that
cubicle?

The problem was this. Mike had told me to strip down by the urinals, and
then waddle over to the furthest cubical with my trousers and smelly boxers
round my ankles. Which meant I'd have to get naked before I could be sure it
was Mike in there. What if I took off my shirt and jacket, and dropped by
trousers and boxers, exposing myself, and then got to the far cubicle and
found it wasn't Mike inside? How embarrassing would that be? How could I
possibly explain that? And what if someone else walked in to the bathroom
while I was doing it? This whole scenario was a whole lot worse than I'd
ever anticipated, and I'd anticipated it being pretty horrific to start
with.

But, having caught my breath and overcome my panic before entering the
bathroom I was slightly more in control of my senses. Well, not really. If
I'd really been in control of my senses I'd have turned around, walked out
of that bathroom, out of that building, and told Darren to fuck his job. But
once again that didn't occur to me. I wasn't in control of those senses. But
I was in control of some senses. Enough to overcome my doubts and convince
myself that that was almost definitely Mike in that cubicle and therefore
what I needed to do was get inside there with him as quickly as possible, to
get this horror over, to get another brownie point with Darren and,
hopefully, please God, bring this horrible period of punishment to an end.

So, I took a deep breath and I did it.

I took my mobile phone and wallet out of my jacket pockets and put them in
my trouser pockets (there was no way I was leaving them out there in the
main bathroom). Then I took off my jacket, folded it up, and placed it
inside the urinal nearest the door, like Mike had instructed me to do. Then
I took off my shirt and tie, and balanced them on top of the jacket.

And then I did it.

I unbuckled my belt, undid my flies, and pushed my trousers down to my
ankles. And then I took hold of the elastic waist of my cum covered boxers
and pulled them down too. And before I could really think about what I was
doing - about the fact I was now naked in this public men's room - I waddled
over to the furthest cubicle and knocked on the door, two times.

To my relief it was Mike's voice that responded. "Who is it?"

"It's Josh".

"What do you want?" What did he mean what do I want? He knew why I was
there.

"I'm here to^Å" I knew what I was here to do, he knew what I was here to do,
but I couldn't find the right words to use.

I paused.

That was a mistake, because as I paused I did start to think about what I
was doing, and where I was doing it. And as soon as I started thinking about
it I started to panic all over again. Even more than ever. In fact I was
more stressed now than at anytime since the moment Darren had first
mentioned the porn. More stressed, for that matter, than I'd ever felt
before.

It's not difficult to see why.

I was standing in a public men's room, essentially naked, with my semi-hard
cock sticking out in front of me and my paddled red ass glowing behind.
Earlier, when I'd stood alone in the corner of Darren's office, naked in
this way, I'd panicked that someone might walk in and see me. But the
chances of someone doing that then were actually quite slim. Here the
chances of someone walking in, and seeing me exposed like this, were
actually quite high. And it could be literally any other guy from this whole
office block.

Fortunately, in amongst the panic and stress one clear and sensible thought
dominated in my mind. I needed to get in that cubicle with Mike quick.

Of course even then I wouldn't be completely hidden, because these cubicles
didn't go all the way down to the floor or up to the ceiling, and if any guy
came in here they'd be able to hear me sucking on Mike's cock. They'd surely
figure out what was going on, and if they were to make comment from behind
the toilet door, I couldn't help thinking that Mike might reveal to them
what was going on. After all, it was much less embarrassing for him to be
found having his dick sucked in the company toilets than for me to be found
doing the sucking. And it's not like he'd get in trouble, given that it was
our boss who'd ordered the sucking. But, nevertheless, nothing could be as
bad as standing out here, with my cock, balls and ass on show. I had to get
in that cubicle. And that meant getting the right words together.

Not that I did that immediately. "I'm here to do the thing" I said finally.
It was pretty lame. I could hear Mike laugh.

"The thing, you're here to do the thing. Nice. Now answer my question, what
do you want?"

What I should have wanted was to get away from there. To be anywhere but
there. But all I could think was that 'what I wanted' was to be in that
cubicle with Mike. And I knew what I was going to have to do to get in
there. To be fair Mike had made it clear when I'd been given my orders back
in Darren's office.

"You'll have to ask to suck me off nicely before I let you in".

I was going to have to beg to suck his dick. Not only was I being forced to
suck off a co-worker, I was being forced to beg to do it. This was the
moment when I really really should have walked. But I didn't. I didn't even
consider running away. I just wanted to get inside that cubicle where the
chance of being caught was so much lower.

So, I took a deep breath and said it. "I want to suck your dick. Please
Mike, please may I suck your dick".

No reply. Shit. I really wanted to get in that cubicle.

"Please Mike, please, I really want to suck your awesome dick, and suck you
till you cum. I really want to eat your cum".

I wasn't sure any of that was true. I'll admit, the thought of being forced
to suck off Mike here in the men's room was turning me on a bit - certainly
my dick was pretty damn stiff. But then at the same time the thought of it
all disgusted me, scared me, freaked me out. And I couldn't help thinking
about the face fuck Darren had given me two days earlier - which had been
exciting on one level, but pretty damn brutal on another. But despite all
those confused sentiments I tried to make what I said as convincing as
possible.

"I really do want to suck your dick".

It worked. The cubicle door swung open.

What it revealed added to my confusion. What I now saw was, in a perverse
kind of way, magnificent. The horniness and excitement of this situation was
starting to take over my mind - the disgust, the scariness, the being
freaked out, the underlying panic - all started to subside.

Mike was standing. He'd taken off his jacket and shirt also, they were
folded up on the cistern behind him. He'd dropped his trousers and boxers
too. Not right down to his ankles like me, just down far enough to fully
reveal his cock and balls.

And what a cock and balls.

His dick was six inches flaccid, and it sat on top of two large balls. His
pubes were blonde and neat, joined to his navel by the sexiest treasure
trail I'd ever seen (not that I'd seen many real treasure trails, but I was
including all the porn guys I'd seen in that description too). Above the
treasure trail was an impressive smooth six pack and two large lickable
nipples.

I'd never seen another guy presented in this way before, essentially naked
and standing before me. Darren had got his cock out the other night of
course, and given me a brutal face fuck with it, but I'd barely had chance
to look at it. If my own dick had been hard before, now it was totally rock
solid.

Weirdly mine and Mike's situations were kind of similar, yet very different.
We were both topless in a public men's room with our trousers and boxers
pulled down to reveal our respective packages. Yet he looked like a
magnificent hunk of a man, displayed in a wonderfully sexy and erotic way. I
looked like the sad, dominated cock-sucker I was starting to realize I was
becoming. The fact he was safely hidden from public view in the cubicle
while I stood potentially exposed in the main bit of the bathroom helped
boost his dominance, of course. And the fact I now had a throbbing hard on
while his dick was completely soft showed he was much more controlled than
me. And the fact his flaccid dick was nearly as big as mine fully erect no
doubt added to my feeling of inferiority. Whatever, I felt so dominated at
that moment, and so in awe of the man before me, that the disgust and fear
and panic had all well and truly gone, and just the lust and excitement
remained. Despite my earlier desire to get into that cubicle as fast as was
possible, right now all I could do is stand and stare. In fact I'd have
probably stood there forever, despite the risk of someone walking in and
seeing me naked, had Mike not spoken. But he did. And his words broke my
lust filled state.

"That" he said, pointing to my fully erect cock, "is so wrong. How can you
get off on this shit? You're a sick sick fuck. OK, get in here and get on
your knees".

I did as instructed. To my relief Mike shut the cubicle door behind me. As
my lust filled high had been broken I'd suddenly become aware of my
situation again, and of my need to get into that cubicle. And now, at last,
I was in there.

"OK, Darren says you're new to this, so I want you to listen carefully. I
won't accept a shit blowjob from a sad cocksucker like you. You've got to
get it right. First things first, kiss the head. Kiss it proper, like you
would a chick. Not that you'd know much about that. Kiss it like you'd kiss
one of your gay boy friends".

Some of this stuff confused me. How did Darren know I was new to this? What
did he mean my gay boy friends? But I didn't have time to think about that.
I was too focused on his main instruction. I leant forward and started to
French kiss his cock head. It felt brilliant. I couldn't think why, but it
just did. And to my delight I could feel Mike's dick start to grow as I
kissed it. And unlike the previous Friday with Darren, Mike let me continue
the kissing until he was fully erect without forcing his dick down my
throat.

>From the moment my lips made contact I felt my internal lust start to rise
again, and as I licked his cock head over and over I started to slip into a
sexual daze. A kind of daze I'd never experienced before. I became even more
oblivious to where I was, or what I was being forced to do, or what was
happening around me. The daze was only broken when, after a few minutes of
dick licking, and with Mike's cock fully hard, he gently pulled my face away
from his cock head, and pushed my mouth down towards his ball sack.

"OK," he said, "this is where your afternoon snack is coming from. You've
got to lick them. Kiss them. Talk to them. Convince them to let you eat
their cum".

On one level these instructions were as degrading as all the other things
Darren and Mike had made me do,  but in my daze like state I felt so
privileged to be able to do these things to Mike's cock and balls I didn't
feel embarrassed at all. In fact I gladly did as commanded. Even the talking
bit. And despite the fact I knew that if anyone came in to use this bathroom
they'd over hear.

"Please, Mike's balls" I said between kisses and licks, "Mike's awesome
manly balls, please let me taste some creamy cum, I know I don't deserve
such a special treat, but I'd give anything to taste some spunky cum".

To be honest I don't know how long I licked and kissed and worshipped Mike's
ball sack, probably a few minutes, but again I became oblivious. And again I
was only broken from my sexual daze by Mike pulling my face away from his
crotch.

Though this time he did something that broke my lustful daze completely, and
brought me straight back to earth.

He turned round.

"OK, get your tongue in there. I want you to lick my crack from bottom to
top eight times, then get your tongue in my hole, get in their deep and
taste my ass".

This I hadn't expected and, while the ass before me was admittedly just as
wonderful as the cock and balls I'd just worshipped, this I didn't like. I'd
seen people rimming on those porn sites of course, and I'd wanked off
watching porn guys doing it to each other, but I'd never ever considered
sticking my own tongue in another guy's ass. The thought disgusted me a
little, and I felt the panic and stress that had been the feature of much of
my day starting to well up inside me again.

"Listen gay boy, you don't get to eat cum without a little ass worshipping
first, those are the rules. So get your tongue in there".

I still wasn't convinced. I mean, there's no way Mike could have showered
since this morning. He'd probably been for a shit since then. What if there
was shit left in there. I started to feel a little sick.

"Right, that's it", Mike said, turning round, "I'm going to get Darren, I'm
going to tell him to strip you naked, paddle your balls and then fire your
sorry ass".

"No, Mike, no, I'll do it," I whimpered, "I'll do it".

"OK, one more chance, but from now on it's 'sir' OK?"

What? He was a co-worker, why would I call him 'sir'? But I was in no
position to argue.

"Yes Sir".

"Good," he said, turning round again, "now get that tongue in my ass. It's
quite sweaty down there, you're going to love it".

That wasn't news I wanted to hear. I closed my eyes, leant forward, placed
my tongue into the bottom of Mike's crack, which forced my nose right into
his ass. He was right, it smelt really sweaty down here. But not shitty. Not
at all. I felt a wave of relief flush across my body. The lack of shittiness
was such a relief. Such a relief that the sweaty smell seemed good by
comparison. Actually it seemed really good. My own cock got even harder,
which gave me the push I needed to proceed with my ass licking task. I moved
my tongue up Mikes crack, over his hole and up to the top. The musky, sweaty
taste of his ass filled my mouth. It was weird. I actually liked it. I
wasn't sure if that was because I'd been fearing some kind of shitty taste
and by comparison this seemed so much better, or whether I actually liked
the taste of Mike's sweaty ass. I had a feeling it was the latter. Because
once I started licking I couldn't stop. I licked again and again and again.
I was enjoying it so much I forgot that I was meant to be counting. Until
Mikes hands hit the sides of my head, hard.

"Eight licks I said, then get your tongue in my hole, it's not difficult,
for fucks sake".

Mike's words frightened me a little. Partly because the slap to my head had
been quite hard, and totally unexpected. Partly because Mike had basically
shouted at me, and that made me conscious again that someone could walk into
this men's room and over hear. And partly because I was suddenly but
strangely really keen to please this guy, to satisfy this guy, and the
thought I wasn't doing that really hurt. All of which meant that I
immediately pushed my tongue up against his ass hole, and then pushed it in
there, without a second thought. If you'd told me just half an hour earlier
I'd soon have my tongue inside a co-workers sweaty ass I'd have thought you
were insane. Really insane. Yet here I was pushing my tongue in as far as it
would go. The taste now was intense. The musky, sweaty taste was there
still, but there was something else as well. A unique taste. An erotic
taste. It was what I'd eventually learn was the taste of deep ass. Once
again I lost myself in the moment - in an oblivious lust filled daze.
Pushing my tongue in and out, deeper and deeper, enjoying the taste, the
texture and, most of the all, the slight but definite moans of ecstasy
coming out of Mike's mouth. I really was getting off on Mike getting off. So
much so that when Mike pushed my head back once more and span around again I
was actually disappointed. Really disappointed. Sure, I had Mike's awesome
cock and balls back in front of me, but I'd become so attached to his ass in
those few minutes that that still seemed like a disappointment.

He was now fully erect. His cock was huge - eight inches long and at least
seven inches thick. His cock head was glistening at the top, peeping out of
his fully stretched foreskin. There was a big drop of pre-cum at the top of
his head. Without thinking, and still in full on licking mode from all that
ass licking, I stuck my tongue out and gobbled it up.

Big mistake.

Again Mike's hands hit both sides of my head simultaneously, only this way
he had more strength and it really really hurt.

"For fucks sake cock boy, you've gotta learn to control yourself, otherwise
you're gonna get in big trouble. Big big trouble. You only get what you're
given, you can't just take, understand?"

"Yes sir, sorry sir" I said, no longer perturbed by being subservient to
this co-worker.

"OK, now lick it from the bottom to the top, but do it slow, no rushing
things".

I slowly licked the underside of his stiff dick, from ball sack to the top
of the head. Another drop of pre-cum had materialized, which I consumed
without really realizing it. But Mike didn't seem to mind this time. Then I
took my tongue back to the balls, and licked all the way up again. Within
three licks I was back in full on daze mode, though I tried my hardest not
to slip completely into lustful oblivion, because a few licks in I caught my
hand moving towards my own throbbing dick. But I managed to stop myself. I
didn't know if Mike would notice me having a little squeeze, but I did know
that if he did he wouldn't like it. And this all seemed to be going quite
well, despite the face slaps. I didn't want to piss him off. Or, by
association, Darren. So, despite the daze, I tried hard to be focused enough
to not allow me to start wanking my own dick, despite the immense, intense
urge to do so. Nevertheless, I soon lost myself in the licking, and lost
count how many licks of Mike's dick I completed. But, after a short while,
Mike again pulled my face away from his crotch and said the all important
words^Å

"OK suck boy, suck it, suck my dick".

It was a sign of how much I was slipping into the role that had been so long
planned for me - that of a subservient sex slave - that I felt deeply deeply
privileged to be given that opportunity. I was being forced to suck off a
co-worker in a work bathroom. I was being horribly sexually abused by my
boss, and one of his pals on the team. Yet at that moment I felt like
falling to the floor and thanking Mike for letting me suck his cock.

I bent forward, opened my mouth, and slipped it over his cock head, kissing
it a little like before. Then I let his cock slip into my mouth a couple of
inches, basically filling my mouth, and tried to move my lips and tongue
around his cock hoping it would get him off (the licking and kissing had
seemed to get him off so far). To be honest this was only the second blow
job I'd ever given, and the first one had been more of a face fuck than a
blow job, so I didn't really know what I was doing. And I'd never received a
blow job either, so I didn't know what was expected. But for a couple of
minutes, as I licked and squeezed my lips around the top three inches of his
long long dick I thought I was getting it right. He seemed to be moaning
more regularly now.

But those thoughts soon crashed. Mike took on an especially nasty tone and
said: "For fucks sake, Darren was right, you're shit at this. OK, hold
you're breath and mind your teeth, I'll have to do it myself".

He put his hands back on my head, but not gently like before, he pushed down
hard. And then he started to push his dick into my mouth, and down my
throat. Basically what Darren had done on Friday, though this was much
worse. I'd never worked out how big Darren's dick was, but Mike was clearly
bigger, longer and much thicker. If I thought I'd gagged on Friday, it was
nothing like now. Mike immediately launched into long deep thrusts in and
out of my throat, never fully pulling out of my mouth, and making it very
difficult for me to breath. And unlike Darren on Friday, he didn't seem to
be in any rush to cum. He just kept on fucking and fucking and fucking. Now
it was all I could do to stop me using my hands to push him off.

I reckon he face fucked me for the best part of fifteen minutes. I couldn't
really tell how long, but on three occasions I thought I was about to pass
out, and would have done had I not enjoyed a little gulp of air as Mike
pulled out far enough so that a bit of air could seep in around his cock
head and into my throat. By the end I thought I was about to be sick when,
finally, I felt his dick expand even more and realized, mainly from the
change in his moaning, that he was about to cum. He pushed in all the way,
stopping me from breathing entirely, and forcing my nose into his sweaty
sweaty pubes.

I don't know how many shots of cum came out of that cock, but at least three
went straight down my throat, another landed in my mouth, and one last one
covered my face. I was totally overcome by the smell and taste of cum.
Though that I found strangely erotic and, for the first time since the
physical sexual assault on my throat began, I started to feel lustful again,
possibly because the terror I'd felt throughout the deep throating was
starting to subside, because the worst part of this ordeal was clearly over.

Eventually he pulled out completely, and fresh air rushed into my mouth and
down to  my lungs. He lingered a little, coming down from his orgasm. And
then: "What are you waiting for, lick it clean fuck boy". I didn't know what
he meant at first, but then I realized there was quite a lot of cum on his
dick, and he clearly expected me to lick it up. It was an order that annoyed
me slightly - why couldn't he use some toilet tissue? - but as my lust was
returning the thought of tasting some more cum was actually quite alluring,
so I quickly obeyed and licked up what I could.

Once done he gave me one more order: "OK, give my dick one last kiss and
thank my balls for your snack".

I leant forward and deep kissed Mike's flaccid dick, and followed it up with
"thank you Mike's way awesome balls for feeding me such a generous snack,
you're so kind to feed me that way, I'd love to taste more of your brilliant
juices".

Mike was already getting dressed while I did this. He put on his shirt, tie
and jacket while I finished my cock worshipping. He laughed a little as I
thanked his balls. "You're such a sad fuck". And with that he pulled up his
boxers and trousers and his cock and balls were gone. Mine of course were
still there on show. My dick was throbbing and dripping pre-cum.

"OK, you stay here till I'm out of the bathroom, you understand?" he said,
as he climbed over me. "And no touching that dick of yours - I'm not having
you getting off on sucking my dick, that's just sick".

"Yes sir" I replied, disappointedly. If I'm being honest, I'd been planning
of jacking off as soon as he'd left the bathroom. Of course there'd be no
way for him to know if I did or not, but now he'd forbid it I knew I
wouldn't. I was still very much in subservient mode.

Mike smiled at my subservience.

Then he stepped over me and walked out of the cubicle. But then he stopped
after just a few steps.

Then I heard him unzip his pants again.

It took me a few seconds to realize what he was doing. He was having a piss.

But it didn't sound quite right.

It took me a few more seconds more before I realized why. Fuck. He was
pissing on my jacket and shirt. I'd left them in the urinal nearest the
door, like he'd told me to, and now he was pissing on them.

My heart began to race.

My stress levels began to rise again.

This was my situation. I was kneeling down in an open cubicle in a men's
room. I was more or less naked, with my trousers and cum covered boxers
round my ankles. My dick was throbbing and leaking pre-cum. And now my
jacket and shirt were covered in Mike's piss. There was no way I could wear
them. But I couldn't leave this bathroom topless. And I couldn't just wait
until everyone else went home and then make a dash for it. Even if I could
find some other clothes to wear to get home, I couldn't wait too long in
here, because Darren had instructed me to go to his office as soon as I'd
finished sucking Mike.

Fuck. Bugger fuck shit. What the fuck was I going to do?