Date: Fri, 5 Sep 2008 17:09:47 +0100
From: Anthony <Ant-boy@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Striped and Sold

Striped and sold by Ant-boy@hotmail.co.uk

You know the rules; if under age of consent don't tell me, if here for any
other purpose except to get your rocks off then I pity your prurient
desires.  All others -- enjoy.

I'd walked past the nondescript door several times now trying to pluck up
enough nerve to push it open and face my fantasies.  I'd heard about this
semi-private picture house a couple of times from Joes I'd met when out
crusin and then managed to track down a faint mention on the web.

Apparently it cost ten pounds to join and another ten to enter, a lot of
money for a lad who'd only just turned eighteen and only had his allowance
to live on.  But it held out the promise of more sex than I could handle
and to a randy youngster that was a promise I wanted fulfilled.

I'd been told the interior was past its best and the films shown were only
very soft porn, it was the action in the stalls with their armchair style
seats still remaining from its time as a very private club and even more so
in the toilets and the old kitchens.  Apparently there were still private
rooms upstairs with a different entrance kept to a much better standard but
I doubted Id ever manage to afford their cost.  It didn't matter, if I
couldn't get my nerve up soon it would be too late anyway.

One thing I'd been told they were very strict on was no entry after
midnight, member or not, and I still wasn't.

That's when he knocked into me and started up a conversation.

`Wondering what it's like in there were you?'

I looked up in surprise.  I'd been so engrossed in watching where my feet
took me I'd been ignoring the other pedestrians.  I had noticed him earlier
but thought he'd walked past.  Slightly taller than my five foot eight,
slim reasonably built body dressed in jeans, black leather ankle boots and
a tight fitting T showing off his pecs and neat waist.  Topped off with a
square bronzed face and a rough cut mop of dark curly hair.

`Sorry.  I didn't notice you.  My fault.  Are you OK?'

`That's alright, I could see you had other things on your mind,' he
replied.  `Unfortunately you have to be eighteen before you can get in that
club.  I know another one not far away that will let you in but that's only
for drinks and dancing if you know what I mean.'

`I am over eighteen.'  I showed him my student card.  Not looking my age
could be useful at times but not in a situation like this.

`Well so you are.  My turn to say sorry.  I'm a member there, would you
like me to take you in and put you up for membership tonight?  If you go in
on your own they'll make you wait a week before you can get in.' Then he
continued, ` You do know what type of club it is and how much it costs?'

Was I being naive, was I setting myself up for him, was I hoping he would
offer to pay?  I really don't know.  I'd not considered putting myself up
for sale at that time but had been given what I thought of as a tip several
times when I'd service a cock or had my own serviced in my local park.

`Yes.'  I showed him my wallet, cash empty apart from the two tenners, `
I've been saving up.'

Actually I did have another couple hidden away for emergencies but never
told anyone that.

`OK lad.  If you want to we better get a move on, soon be midnight.'

With that encouragement I followed him through the door to find myself in a
dim lit short passageway with another door at the end, this with a dark
glass window and a bell push my escort jabbed a couple of times.  The
lights brightened and a disembodied voice came from a grill I'd not noticed
beside the bell push.

`Who's your friend?  He doesn't look old enough and you know the rules.'

`He wants to join and he's got his student ID so no problems like that this
time,' was my companion's weird reply.

There was a buzz and the door opened.  A small lobby with another window,
this time open and leading to a cloakroom.  I wouldn't be needing that; I
had no extra clothing to take off.  Well, so I thought.  Once I allowed my
ID to be copied and filled in some forms I received my card, valid for one
year, and the admonishment to obey the rules.  The main one was pointed
out, a big sign above the next door.  No sexual acts allowed on the
premises.

`If we get raided the lights will come on full and you should have a couple
of minutes, ` I was told with a grin by the man on reception.  `Hope you
have fun lad.'

While my proposer was singing himself in I checked myself out in the
mirrored wall opposite the cloakroom.  It had a couple of cracks and was
darkening in the corners, even so I could see myself full-length without
problem. I really didn't look like eighteen and the way I'd dressed didn't
help.

Old trainers with just trainer socks, tight denim shorts with a leather
belt and a sleeveless black top completed my dress apart from the black
sports jock holding my six inch cock and bursting balls from falling out of
my shorts.  I suppose the main problem was my very light muscular build
from being on the college swim team and then to top it off, in those days I
still had a full head of curly blonde hair.

I heard the receptionist talking to my friend.  I didn't know him of course
but so far he was, I hoped, going to be my introduction the hidden delights
beyond the next door.

`I don't know where you manage to find them but you've struck gold this
time.  Be careful.  I don't want any trouble.'

`I told you that was a mistake and it won't happen again.  I got it all
settled didn't I?'  came the reply.  `Now then how about you open that door
and the party can begin.'

I didn't know what they were talking about, didn't really care if truth be
told.  Another buzz , the far door opened, and I entered a large very dimly
lit high ceilinged room half full with about two dozen armchair type seats
separated by small tables and set to watch a dirty screen showing some film
with men who still had half their clothes on.  As my eyes adjusted to the
light I noticed there were also about a dozen couches of one size or
another scattered round the walls and there seemed as much action going on
there as on the screen.  Altogether there seemed to be several dozen men
sitting, playing around or wandering about but there was insufficient light
to make out much detail as to ages and looks.

My new friend put his arm round my shoulders in a proprietary fashion and
turned toward a bar I not noticed with the barman being the receptionist
form outside.  Did I want a drink?  I told him, not quite truthfully, I had
no more money and was told not to worry, and he'd buy the drinks as he was
sure I'd find some way to pay him back.  He wasn't unattractive and I was
quite in the mood to allow him use of my mouth, maybe a bit more.  I felt
very raunchy then, his arm across my naked shoulders, the looks I realised
my body was receiving from other patrons and the offer of free, so I
thought, drinks.

Somehow I managed to drink my first pint of larger while standing by the
bar and being introduced to all the people who it would have seemed had
just been waiting for my friend to arrive and needed to talk to him and of
course it was only polite they included me.  A voice shouted out `Midnight
gents, doors locked,' and the film changed to one with naked bodies
sucking, kissing and penetrating ,but to tell you the truth the poor
quality added to the hands that it seemed just had to touch my body when
they spoke of this and that quite kept my eyes off the screen.

Somehow I found myself with another full glass sitting on one of the
smaller sofas with my friend, his arm still round my shoulders but the
other plying over my chest, up and down my legs, brushing across my groin.
One part of my mind was aware we were being watched quite closely but that
in itself was another turn on.  I'd discovered a penchant for an audience
if on my knees before a rampant cock and this was really no different --
just a larger audience.  Sometime tonight I expected to be worshiping a
cock in that fashion and had no objections to the idea.

It was around this time he started to wave a bottle of poppers under my
nose.  I knew what they were and had been offered them on several occasions
but never when I'd already drunk two pints and somehow found another placed
on the table beside me.  It just didn't seem strange when he suggested I
might be more comfortable if he removed my top and while he was peeling
that over my head I felt someone else removing my trainers and socks.

It did feel more comfortable and when my feet were taken into someone's
mouth I just sank down and allowed myself to enjoy the feeling I'd never
experienced before.  Looking down I discovered each foot being serviced, if
I should call it that, by a different man.  One was about the same age as
my friend, possibly a bit younger, not quite such a well proportioned body
but one I'd be happy to service at any time.  The other I will admit was a
different matter.  Almost bald, I couldn't see his face but he was well
overweight.  I like older men; they have so much more experience and take
their time.  I just wish so many of them didn't let themselves go so badly.

I hadn't noticed when my shorts were undone and a hand from somewhere was
fondling my cock and balls while my friends hand was now lightly nipping
and pinching my nipples.

`You like that boy?'  I nodded, so taken up with all that was being done to
me that I was unable to respond verbally even though my mouth was half open
and sucking on someone's fingers.  `Have you ever been fucked?'  I grunted
an affirmative.  `You can make your money back if you'll let me fuck you
while some people watch.'  He waved more poppers under my nose.

I would have agreed anyway, the addition of being paid, and the poppers,
were just icing on the cake.  `Yes Just take it slow please.  And I'll need
to piss soon.'

`Have you ever pissed yourself?' he asked.

I nodded again.

OK I had but that was something I'd never admitted to anyone, even my
roommate and he fucked me at quite regularly before he would give me a blow
job.  Just getting his energy back he would claim.  However, alcohol and
poppers can, often will, cause one to make decisions and be prepared
undertake experiences you would think twice about sober.  `Yes,' I
answered.

When had my shorts been removed?  I had no idea, just found myself naked
with my feet held in the air and someone's fingers probing at my arsehole.
I know I groaned, I heard myself as I wriggled my body to impale my arse
more strongly.  The idea I was the centre of attention was so much a turn
on I was in heaven.  There were more hands and mouths on my body than I
could count, from my feet sucking my toes, rubbing up and down my legs,
pulling on my balls, stuck up my backside, over my stomach, pinching my
nipples, holding my head, fingers in my mouth, it was impossible to stand
up to.

`For God's sake someone fuck me!'  My body was going into overdrive, the
attention it was getting had an effect I'd not foreseen, it wanted more,
whatever was done to it there just had to be more.  I'd only been fucked a
few times and that slowly, now it wanted something more forceful.

`Don't play around,' I told the fingers stuck up my hole and twisting
around, `rape that arse.  Make me feel it for god's sake.'

`You really want to be raped?'

`For Christ's sake do something.  Make me feel it, fuck me, beat me, I
don't care.  Just do it, Please.'

The combination of poppers, a couple of pints and my own youthful almost
constant arousal all added an abandonment of senses.  I was getting off on
being used, of being watched, of others seeing me almost helpless in the
thrall of excitement and I wanted more, my body craved more.

There had to be more.

Some signal caused me to be helped to my feet and half led, half dragged
down to a door beside the screen that led through a corridor to the
toilets.  This was another large tiled room, brighter lights, mirrors it
seemed everywhere, half a dozen stalls and a long trough urinal flush with
the floor.  There was also a row of wash basins and to my surprise a large
shower unit in one corner and an old massage table in one alcove covered in
black plastic.  That is where my body ended up.  I say my body as I've no
idea where the rest of me was, certainly my brain was elsewhere, probably
left at reception and that was how I wanted it.  I would never have agreed
to this if my brain had kept up and I wanted to agree to whatever might be
going to happen.

What happened was my body being arranged backside down on the table, my
legs held in the air and my hands grasping the edges as someone's fingers
violated my hole once again and wormed their way round inside causing me to
groan and writhe around, this in turn causing hands to hold my body in
place, also to feel and pinch and rub me.

`Are you sure you want this?'

`Yes,' I almost yelled back.  Of course I wanted it, whatever it was going
to be, or at any rate my body wanted it.

The fingers invading my arse were removed and another set of hands grabbed
my legs at the thighs and pushed them back so they folded against my chest.
Trussed like a chicken, the thought had just enough time to cross my mind
before a stiff throbbing cock was probing, pushing, forcing an entrance
through my hole.  There was little resistance after the work out several
sets of fingers had subjected it earlier and once past the lips it sunk
straight in, right to the hilt.

`Shit,' this time I did yell.  `That fuckin well hurts.'

The cock had already thrust in and out a couple of times.  `Should I pull
out then?  Is it too much?'

`No don't stop.  Go on then, fuck me hard, make me feel it you bastard.'

He did.  In and out, every thrust down to the hilt, his pubic hair crushing
against my arse cheeks each time. Bashing my balls with his groin, my semi
erect cock flapping all over the place.  I was moaning and crying, he was
hurting me but some part of my body was enjoying every little bit of it.

Opening my eyes at last to look up i saw my attacker smiling as he looked
down in return.

`You enjoying this lad?' he asked.

`No.  Why should I enjoy you fucking me?' I managed to half gasp in reply.
`But you are enjoying hurting me and if you keep on bashing my balls as you
are my bladder will get you back.  Now get on and hurt me like you want
to.'

I've no idea where all this was coming from.  At eighteen I wasn't quite a
virgin but had never been in a scene like this, never wanted to, never even
considered.  I didn't like pain and here I was telling him to lay it on
harder.

`These balls do you mean lad?' he grabbed hold of them, stretched and
squeezed.  My yelp gave him his answer.  `Boys that piss themselves get
punished don't they lad?'  I nodded.  `That's OK then, just so you can't
say I didn't warn you.'

That did it, his cock thrusting in and out of my arse hitting my prostrate
each time, my full bladder, the relief when he let go of my balls, the mild
high I was in due to poppers and alcohol, but most of all the need for
raunch.  I wanted to give my audience the show they desired and right then
just didn't care much how I did it.  I was in the mood for more than I'd
ever experienced and wanted it all.

With a sigh I just let it go.  There was a slightly embarrassing burp of
wind escaping round my violators prick in where it was stuck up my hole
then blessed relief as my bladder let go.  Even in my position, lying on my
back with my legs held in the air, a cock up my arse and a semi-erect prick
the result was quite impressive.  For a second only a slight dribble then
suddenly a jet that splashed against his stomach, gained pressure to reach
his chest, and would have continued to his face if he hadn't grabbed my
cock tightly and aimed it to jet straight up in the air the fall back
soaking my body including my face.

I loved it, I loved being watched, I loved the cock fucking my arse and the
hand so tightly grasping my own cock, I loved the way my balls were being
smashed at each thrust up my hole, I loved the hands holding my arms behind
my head.  I was being hurt and it was fantastic.  I just don't know why but
I found myself smiling, even laughing a little bit whenever I found a
little breath to spare.

`You thought that was funny?' he asked me, thrusting in so hard it made me
yelp.  `And this?' he used his other hand to grab and squeeze my balls,
pulling them away from my cock now , once more, standing proudly erect.

`Yes!  It's fantastic.' I replied, `I'm being abused, everyone watching is
jerking off and enjoying the show but I'm getting the most fun out of it.'
I yelped again when he let go of my privates and pulled out, allowing my
bits and pieces to hand freely so he could slap them back and forth with
one hand whilst furiously wanking himself off with the other, very shortly
shooting stream after stream of hot man juice over my face and chest, some
even landing inside my mouth as I cried and jerked about from the
punishment he was applying to my balls.

Still I couldn't help grinning.  His wasn't the only stream of man juice to
land on my body, someone's hands were wiping the result up and down, over
my face and mouth, I wanted to be brought off myself and said so.

`Not yet,' he told me. `You've not been punished yet.'

What?  I had no time to question his remark, within seconds it seemed I'd
been flipped over and turned so that I was draped crossways over the table,
only my chest and waist were supported, my legs dangled one side just
reaching the floor, my cock and balls were squashed against the padded edge
and my head and shoulders were falling over the other side.  I was just
about to raise me head when someone knelt down and a face appeared before
me, my new friend and recent attacker.

`You know what happens to naughty boys, how they are punished lad?'  He
gave me no time to answer.  `Do you think you can take it? I'm charging
good money for each half dozen.'

I was astounded, charging for what, had I been sold, had I agreed to this?
I never had a chance to reply, he stood up, clamping my head tightly
between his thighs and the next thing I felt was a hand land quite forcibly
across my arse cheeks.  Of course I yelped so would you, especially as I'd
not been expecting it.  Six strokes I counted before I heard the voice from
above my head, `Who's next then?'

Next?  How many were there going to be?  I struggled to free my head to no
avail.  He bent down a bit to whisper, `Ten Pounds each and you get half,
how about it?'

He had sold me.  The bastard had sold me and!  And what?  My cock was
enjoying it and the cash would be useful as I'd had to take out the full
loan to attend college and even so had discovered it wasn't enough.  In
fact I was turned on by the thought that some of the audience were actually
paying to give me pleasure.

The second half dozen had been applied almost without me noticing as were
the third but the fourth and last set were another matter.  Whoever he was
intended to get his money's worth, and he did.  His was the largest and
hardest hand i felt that evening and he took his time between strokes,
first one cheek and then the other.  By the time he'd finished I was crying
and squirming, my arse burnt and stung but still my cock was rampant and
crying out for release, I could feel it dripping precum onto the floor.

`You've got a nice red arse,' he told me as he released my head, `bet it
could do with cooling down!'

He half led, half dragged me over to the urinal and pushed on my shoulders
until I sat down, my back against the tiled wall and my sore arse sitting
in the trough.  Just as I sat the cistern flushed, cold water flowed all
over my back but more importantly half filled the trough and cooled my
burning arse.  Finally looking up I saw for the first time, right in front
of me, the cock that had penetrated my hole so thoroughly.  Even in its
present limp state it was a good six inches long and almost too thick for
me to have closed my fingers around.  How the hell had he managed to get
that up my little hole?  While I was looking at it he pulled his foreskin
back and after a little quiver at the eye it let loose a flood straight at
my open mouth.

If I'd thought my jet of piss earlier was impressive his was a Niagara
Falls.  My mouth was full and spluttering in a second and as I spluttered
and swallowed he played the stream from his hosepipe back and forth, up and
down refilling my mouth on several occasions, finally dropping of to a
trickle and leaving me more soaked than I'd ever been in my life.  I went
to move only to discover a boot pressing lightly against my groin, the only
articles of clothing he was wearing.

`You stay there, I've not finished yet'

`Just let me lay down please, flat on my back.'  I held out my hand for the
poppers as I slid forward and grabbed his boot to place it back against my
groin.  `Go on, coat me with piss and cum.' I pulled his boot against me,
squashing my balls and prick against the sole.  `For God's sake finish me.

Please!'

I don't know where it came from, this wanting to be hurt, to be abused, to
have it witnessed.  All I knew right then was I just had to cum and I
wanted it hard.

`You really want this boy?' He pushed and twisted his foot against me, `You
want me to hurt your cock and balls?'

`Yes!  Fucking hurt me if you want.  Just bring me off.'  I pushed harder
against his boot, yelling as much from the pain as the urgent overpowering
need to shoot.  There was still a small audience; nearly all standing round
us and jacking furiously and as each shot over my filthy naked body I'd use
my hands to rub the result over my chest and face.

He was grinding my balls into the floor, my cock against my groin and I
could feel it starting.  The sap was rising and wanted to escape.  I wanted
it to last but just had to shoot.  My hands both grabbed at his booted foot
squashing it even tighter against my bits as my body arched and with a
scream I came.  I just couldn't help it; I came and came and came.  Shot
after shot after shot.

I'd never cum so much before, it seemed to go on and on.  It was the most
glorious feeling but couldn't last forever.  Finally I half collapsed back
to the soaking floor, my softening prick allowing my bladder to flow again,
the stream across my body being joined by a couple from those standing
above me.  Turning my head I could see the shower unit over in the corner
and hoped it was working.

I needed a shower, and a coffe if possible.  But it had been worth it, I
just wondered how much I'd get paid.