DUDE'S GOTTA PAY HIS DEBTS - PART 12
I am 32 years old, British/Australian living in London and working as a high street solicitor. If you'd like to read about my first sexual encounter with a bloke, check it out here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/dirt-in-the-dunes
This full series, "Dude's gotta pay his debts", can be found on Nifty here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/dudes-gotta-pay-his-debts/
I am 28 years old when this story starts, but turn 29 part way through it. Oh and by the way, I am a stickler for continuity but we all make mistakes and I like to correct them if I find them or am alerted by the eagle-eyed amongst you: In Part 11, I refer to the "basement gym". Of course, as described in Part 10, the gym is on the ground floor as part of the residents' quarters, not in the basement. And the Intake Room is also on the Ground Floor, not the First. Apologies!
Please remember, the awesome wank bank that is Nifty needs your donations to keep up and running and keep publishing our hot stories. Send something if you can: https://donate.nifty.org/.
This is how my life panned out for the month of November in the Year of Our Lord 2021.
Every night, I slept in a puppy cage in the Gimp Room, naked, hogtied with leather padded wrist and ankle cuffs, a dildo gag pressing on my tongue making me continuously salivate, a chastity cage on my cock, and a fairly large butt plug inserted in my rectum. When the single red bulb was off, the room was pitch black. I had nothing to cover me, but the room was kept very warm; over-warm, if anything. I was never washed before sleep time, so whatever acts I'd been forced to perform that day, whatever substances were smeared on my skin and hair, remained on me so I'd build up quite a funk by morning. If I needed to urinate in the night - and given what I was forced to do, I always did - I had to let it go and wet myself. Initially it was not remotely comfortable and a dose of NyQuil was poured down my funnel to help me sleep, but I quickly adapted.
Monday to Friday I'd be woken at 05:45 sharp by the door opening and a broom handle poked through the bars of the cage. Mostly it was Erich looking after me, but if he was off he'd send in either Maarten or a freelance dom with strict instructions to follow. I'd do a forced heavy-weights workout, still naked, gagged, plugged and caged, while Erich filmed me on an iPhone. Keeping that plug in was a trial when doing deep, heavy barbell squats. The straight PT would look on in amused bemusement as Erich or my dom kept me motivated with swats of a leather riding crop. Water, protein shakes, my supplements and my PrEP were fed to me through my gag's funnel hose attachment, as were any pisses anyone might need - the dom, other dudes working out, even the PT sometimes had a go (I swear his nice-looking penis chubbed up a bit despite his committed straight-boy status). If at any point I needed a piss, a She-Wee would be held over my cage (for those who don't know, a "She-Wee" a container with a funnel designed to fit over a woman's pussy so she can piss standing up - it works almost as well for a caged boi) and the collected urine fed back to me through my funnel.
After my weekday workout, my wrists would be cuffed in front of me and I'd be taken to the Refrectory where I'd eat my breakfast (always boring gym-bro dishes like diced chicken breast, broccoli and rice) out of a dog bowl, as I now did all of my meals. Erich would still film me occasionally on his phone as I'd be on all foors on the floor, eating hands-free. Sometimes he would recline on a chair and rest his legs on my back as I messily ate. For dessert, after my face was roughly wiped clean, I'd be made to orally worship his sexy bare feet, or those of anyone else who was sitting around, and everyone would line up so they could take turns pissing down a funnel into my gullet to keep me hydrated.
After breakfast I'd be frogmarched to the communal showers, unplugged, my collar, wrist and ankle cuffs also removed but my cage left in place. By now my guts would be awake, and I'd have to squat over a sheet of clingfilm to do my shit as Erich crouched behind me and captured it on his iPhone. What then happened to my turds I have no idea, I just know a twink swooped in and wrapped them up in the plastic sheet, taking them away. Instead of showering, Erich would hose me down with cold water and I'd shampoo and soap-up before he rinsed me off, then bend over so he could insert the hose just inside my ass and given me a clean out, reducing the pressure to a safe level first. After my ablutions, Erich would reinsert the lubricated butt plug and check my cage, before walking me back to my own room where he'd supervise me getting dressed for work. I understood that the morning's amateur footage would be edited together by the production team that day and uploaded to a cloud fileshare site where Pieter and his husband Abe could download it. This material was for their own private consumption, though an edited-down compilation of "Dave X - Training - Best Bits" would be released on the Cerberus site eventually.
At the office, aside from the distraction of being caged and plugged under my suit and ripe jockstrap, everything proceeded as normal. I was even allowed to have a quick beer after work with my colleagues on a Thursday evening. If Mr De Vries wanted to take advantage of me, he still could, and if he felt like using my bum as well as my mouth, he made sure to replug me when he was done.
On returning to the Warehouse, I'd be stripped, re-collared and re-cuffed, fed from my puppy bowl in the Ref, and made available to lick soles and take anyone's piss. My plug would then be removed for the evening. My evening commitments varied quite a bit. Sometimes it would be podium shows with a puppy training theme, or the good old St Andrew's Cross. Often these shows were livestreamed for an audience of online subscribers, so there were cameras firmly fixed on the stage, not on the audience who were watching in the restaurant/bar. Of course I might get pulled for a private session or pre-booked by a punter, but they'd know in advance that I was caged for the month of November so only my mouth and ass were available.
One of the popular setups that Autumn/Winter was "The Farm"; Inspired by various scenes (including mine and Tony's) that had been filmed at the farm outside of Amsterdam, a section of the basement had been partitioned off and dressed as a barn. It looked good on film, and the carpentry that went into the set building had taken a few days. It was used as a set when the weather got too cold to use the real farm, but also it was very popular with punters who wanted themed roleplay. We'd dress up in overalls and herd up to four clients at a time into the Milking Shed setup where we'd strip them (and hood them if the cameras were rolling), position them in a row on all fours, and get the milking machine to extract multiple loads from their cocks over a couple of hours while we moved between them, fingerbanging or even fisting their assholes, and fucking them if we wanted to. Otherwise we shoved e-stim plugs up their asses, and set them pulsing in time with the rhythmic sucks of the milker.
November was a bit different for me, obviously. A new addition was brought in - the Insemination Cage - which was a cage I'd get into on all fours, my head poking out of an opening in the bars as one end. Behind me the cage was open, and naked guys (both performers and selected clients, hooded for the camera) would gather around to watch as Erich pulled on an elbow-length veterinary glove and slapped J-Lube on my ass. He'd finger and fist me as the guys played with themselves and each other, then with a large syringe he'd inject the collected loads from the evening's Milking Shed session deep into my guts. Then the guys would form a line and take their turns loading me up with their DNA. The climax of the session was me shitting the accumulated semen out of my battered, swollen prolapse and into a jug. The end of a hose would be slipped into my mouth and the contents of the jug poured slowly down a funnel attached to the other end, and I'd guzzle it all down as a plug was reinserted in my sloppy cunt.
If there was nothing happening or I wasn't needed, the Director would have my actual bedroom kitted out with a laptop, webcam, halo lamp, lube, wipes and a selection of toys; I would then log onto the Cerberus Camboy site and spend at least a couple of hours chatting to online punters, exchanging dirty talk, assuming any positions they requested so they could ogle all parts of me from any angle, and finishing up by using a selection of toys in my ass until the session was over. After being re-plugged and re-gagged, I'd be fed protein shakes through my funnel in the Ref before resuming toilet service in the communal showers, then being put back in my cage for the night.
One Wednesday night, just after my 29th birthday (the celebration of which was to be deferred until the end of the month), I was booked for a private session in the Warehouse by a mystery punter who was more than happy for me to remain cock-caged, and so meet Pieter's and his husband's requirements. How that session unfolded was a surprise to all concerned, and I have taken the time to set out what happened elsewhere. The session involved transsexual sex, and so it has been captured in a "spin off" episode; I realise those reading about my man-on-man experiences might not be into such things, but if you are interested in what happens to me, you can read about it here:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender/authoritarian/dave-x-is-blackmailed
I swiftly got over that challenging experience, and moved on.
Friday nights were special. There would definitely be a podium show, and more than likely a private session after. When it came time to shut down for the night, as I'd been using deororant and cologne for work during the week, I needed to be prepped for the weekend. I'd be pushed to my knees in the communal shower block for half an hour so any guys - fluffers, performers or staff - could piss on my body while I rubbed the warm fragrant liquid through my hair, beard, groin, pits and ass crack. I also pissed in a She-Wee before that too was poured down over my body. I was roughly wiped down with an old rag of a towel that had been salvaged for the purpose, then hogtied and re-caged for the night (the cage was mopped out every day; they didn't want my piss to flow out into the corridor, after all).
On Saturdays, I was left until 07:00 whether sleeping or not. My workout and meal routine was the same, except that a professional crew member would follow us around and film the action. After taking my morning dump on camera, I'd get douched but not washed - they wanted me naturally stinky on weekends and my skin and hair had been well-conditioned by my Friday night golden shower - and my buttplug washed, freshly lubed and re-inserted. From 09:30, I joined the queue for my weekly sexual health exam. This had been a feature of my whole time at Cerberus; all of us residents lounged around waiting our turn to be seen by the young male nurse who was privately hired for the purpose, and the exams took place in the Intake Room on the examination table. After a check-in to discuss how we were and any symptoms, the nurse took urine and blood samples and a urethral swab for a full STI panel, examining nipple and penis piercings with gloved hands to ensure they were healthy, cleaning them if needed. Lying back with feet up in stirrups, our testicles, anuses and prostates would be examined and an anal swab taken. During my service at Cerberus I'd caught gonorrhea once, which the nurse had treated with a single ceftriaxone injection. Part of the check-in was about psychological health of course, in confidence, but I was always cool. Occasionally, with everyone's permission, the exams were filmed or livestreamed (the nurse either keeping his face out of shot or wearing a surgical cap and mask) - hey, lots of people were into this stuff! I'd done a fantasy medical exam scene filmed in the Intake Room that featured a urine sample, an enema, anal speculum, e-stim plug and gloved masturbation to produce a semen sample, but lots of guys really got off on a real nurse doing a real exam, they could tell the difference. In November, I was of course caged (as the fluffers always were) so either Erich or Maarten were on hand to carefully unlock and remove my cage for the exam while the cameraman captured it all. The nurse was nonplussed, a true professional, even when he had to ease the plug out of my ass for my rectal. No doubt he enjoyed re-inserting it when he was done.
After the Saturday morning medical, the cameraman would take off and I might be sent to my room to do a Camboy session if there was time, or I might be re-recaged in the Gimp Room (though not hogtied) and fed my lunch in my dogbowl in there. After lunch I'd get a kit inspection (collar, cuffs, gag, cage, plug) and led to the basement play area where a section had ben partitioned and set up for Pieter and his husband to use me in.
Come 13:00 on Saturdays, and Pieter and his husband Ade would arrive. I would rest on my knees, gagged, wrists and ankles cuffed, while the afternoon's session was being set up around me by Erich and a couple of crew. It was nice to see Pieter in casual gear - black skinny jeans, sockless white trainers or Birkenstocks on bare feet, and usually a simple grey zip-up hoodie over a fitted black tshirt. Ade was an impressive black dude, maybe pushing 6'3" or 6'4", dark skinned and muscular, clean shaven and shaven-headed too. I would later learn that he was smooth-bodied, and, like Pieter, he had no tatts, but his big dark nips were pierced with rings and his heavy uncut cock nursed a 6 gauge Prince Albert ring. I was to learn that his tool would extend to an intimidating thick 9" pole on arousal. He'd been enthusiastically supportive of Pieter having his first session with me and then setting me up for a month of their mutual use. He clearly was the more sexually dominant one in their relationship, though maybe not exclusively so, and he was a skilled amateur BDSM Master and rope worker. Dressed, he was also head-to-toe in black, including his hoodie, and the heavy Dr Martens he wore on his large feet.
The first Saturday they played with me together, Pieter introduced Abe to me and it was clear that they were both loved-up with each other. Abe was smiling and friendly, told me how much he enjoyed my stuff, that he was really excited to have some time with me, and he was going to make sure I had a great time; he kissed my forehead and rubbed my hair as Pieter ran his hands affectionately over my body. Then both of them ditched their hoodies and swapped their t-shirts for black sleeveless "Cerberus Productions" tops; Pieter kicked off his Birkenstocks as well as he was more comfortable playing barefoot. They liked my heavy chain choker with the padlock, so Erich removed my leather collar and put that item back on me before fitting a thick leather blindfold over my eyes. They both donned black leather hoods and then one of the crew signalled they were ready, and that both recording and livestreaming had started, and Erich stepped out of shot and gestured to the pair that they were good to go.
They started by disconnecting my wrists and ankles and lying me on my back on a bench. My arms were stretched out straight behind my head and spread wide, and tied to a horizontal crossbar bolted to the wall behind my head, then they each took one of my feet, spread my legs out straight and wide, and tied them to the bar as well. I'd never been super-flexible and this position was a strain - it was almost like doing the splits. I put up a bit of a struggle and made some angry moaning sounds around my gag as a cameraman spent ages taking long, lingering shots of me. The two gentlemen then spent a long time sensually feeling up every part of my body, caressing my face affectionately, tugging on my left nip while so-gently teasing my right one. These were 5-hour sessions, and the boys loved their bondage, so the focus wasn't always on packing in as many different sex acts as possible. Much of the time was spent enjoying whatever position they'd put me in, feeling and playing with my body, making adjustments and filming me.
My ass had never been so spread and I moaned as Abe started to tongue and lick my smooth balls and taint before slowly easing the plug out of my ass and putting it to one side. "Oh so nice boi," he murmered before starting to eat and finger my wet open hole. Eventually they progressed to a very lengthy tickling of my stretched, straining, exposed, restrained body, using a tray of Erich's favourite implements, oblivious to my muffled cries, laughs and tears.
We took a break and I was released, the guys and crew joking and chatting as I was watered and re-positioned. This time I was hogtied with a set of steel restraints consisting of a stocks-like ankle-spreader device which clamped my wrists and ankles together behind my back. I was initially positioned on my front on the floor and filmed struggling before they explored my ass trench with their fingers and ticked my exposed soles. Another repositioning and I was on my back, the stocks clamp reapplied on my ankles and wrists in front and above me with a rope tying it to a ceiling fixture to keep my limbs pulled up. Again, the emphasis was on the bondage and the sensual, teasing manual exploration of my flesh. They just couldn't resist taking ages to tickle my exposed soles and I giggled and squirmed under their lengthy attention. In this position they also started to properly explore my well-trained hole, starting by sliding up me a thick dong with a powerful vibrating motor which exquisitely stimulated my chute lining and prostate, while holding its twin against my cock cage to torture me. Then a larger dildo attached to a power tool was eased up in my cunt and set to hammering, making me scream out loud with pleasure - I think Abe was doing that work as I recognised the feeling of Pieter as he kissed, caressed and ticked the rest of my body and got stuck into licking my soles and sucking my toes. After some time of ass-hammering, I felt the sensation of gloopy lube being slapped on my trench and slippery gloved fingers starting to probe and stretch my hole, and moaned in anticipation as Abe gradually, masterfully opened me up and his hand finally slid forward into my rectum, my straining ring clamping down on his wrist. Though his hands were large for me, Abe was experienced, patient and skillful. Most importantly, he knew how to edge me anally, stimulating my prostate without triggering my orgasm.
After an increasingly hard fist-fuck deep into my guts which made my caged cock piss everywhere, Abe then slowly withdrew and released me. Following another water break, he applied his expert rope skills to tie me up, my arms behind my back, ropes binding my neck, chest, arms, and my ankles tied together. They put me on my front again and alternated stroking and kissing my back, neck, hands, ass and feet, with a steady round of ass-spanking with a leather paddle. The thick vibrator was pushed up my cunt again and set to work as I was rolled onto my back, my arms awkwardly trapped behind me, and my chastity cage was unlocked. I moaned in relief as Pieter's hot mouth engulfed my limp cock and it began to rapidly swell to raging leaking hardness and then, when I was fully solid, he started to expertly stroke me with a lubricated fist. His edging skills were incredible though, as despite me not cumming all week and having been sexually stimulated for nearly three hours, he skilfully held off, tapping my balls or swatting my ass to hold me back if needed. Soon I was begging to cum, my incoherent babbling emerging from behind my gag along with a steady flow of drool. "Oh, you really want to cum boi?' Pieter whispered in my ear. "Yes please Sir", I tried to reply. Finally they released me yet again.
Still blindfolded, I was strapped on all fours to a sturdy fuck bench, straps over my back pulled tight while my arms and legs were bound in position. My head was raised and held in place with a chin rest while my rigid cock was pressed hard against the edge of the bench to keep it pushing down towards the floor. The head of a dildo was eased into my asshole and a mechanical whirring started up as the large machine-mounted dong started to fuck me hard. After a few minutes of that, my blindfold was slipped off. Blinking, I focused and saw a large rubber-covered mattress near my head - on it were Abe and Pieter, hooded but otherwise beautifully naked, starting to sensually make out with each other. I was forced to wach as they put on a show for me and the cameras, progressing through body worship to deepthroating mutual oral and rimming, then vigorous flip-flop fucking, torturing me with my inability to participate. Suddenly I felt someone moving behind me and slipping something on my cock which I recognised as the lubricated tube of the industrial milking machine I so loved yet dreaded; it powered up and I blew an explosive screaming load in under a minute. Naturally, it didn't stop, and as Pieter and Abe fucked in front of my eyes and the powerful machines behind me ploughed my cunt and sucked my tortured tool, I was kept hard and coaxed to three more agonising orgasms over the next hour.
Finally, as the machines continued to rape me, Pieter and Abe stood, dripping with sweat, chests heaving, walked over to me and each jerked their loads into the funnel attached to my gag - I swallowed greedily. As the machines powered down, Pieter freed my cock and tortured me by rubbing his palms over its sentitive wet glans while Abe retrieved the receptacle which had gathered my loads from the milker, pouring that down the funnel as well so I could drink my own DNA-laden juices. One by one, Erich and the crew added their loads to the funnel and I fed on their salty protein, before they all started again with their bladders of piss. Pieter gave my limp cock a few squeezing tugs, like he was milking a goat, to encourage me to piss into the container, and when I'd finished releasing my waste water, my piss was added to the overwhelming flow of warm human male fluids I was being forced to drink.
When everyone was done and the five-hour session wound down, I was released to applause as the recording and the transmission were terminated. My gag was removed and Pieter and Abe kissed me tenderly before I was carefully, gently, cock caged, collared, and cuffed once more. Erich recommended that I be spared the plug tonight to give my anus and rectum time to recover, to which Pieter and Abe readily agreed. As they went to shower and dress, I was led back to my puppy cage in the Gimp Room, hogtied and left to fall into a coma of exhastion, an affectionate rub of the hair granted by Erich before he locked the cage and left me for an hour's nap.
The four Saturday sessions I had with Pieter and Abe over November were varied and highly imaginative, and once they spent the last hour vigorously spitroasting me, my cock uncgaged and free to harden and be played with, as they milked my loads out with their hands and mouths, ensuring every last drop of my seed and theirs found its way down my throat, no matter where it had first been deposited.
Tpically after an hour or so's nap following my Saturday afternoon session, I'd be let out of the puppy cage, taken to the Ref, and fed a high-protein snack. Then, I'd do whatever was planned for me for a Saturday night - which would largely depend on how thoroughly my asshole had been pummeled and how much more recovery time I'd need.
The Director would occasionally hold "Open House" sessions in the open-plan basement play space - basically sex parties where resident performers, freelance regulars and amateur exhibitionists (if deemed fit enough) would just have big group fuck sessions while two of three crewmen moved amongst them in shorts, Cerberus Productions sleeveless t-shirts and baseball caps, barefoot, filming all of the action they could capture. Two of these sessions took place during the month of November, and despite the five-hour session I'd just had, I still felt able to join in and take as many loads as I could in both my holes. I'd always ensure I shat any cum out of my ass into a jug and slurp it down once my sphincter was struggling to hold it in any more.
If I still felt energised, but maybe my ass was too tender, there were often other options. The Farm was still pretty popular and I could do toilet duty there and be fed the clients' accumulated loads.
Erich was very concerned with his charges' welfare though, and if I felt worn out, I'd be left alone to chill in the Common Room for the evening before being locked in my puppy cage for the night - without my butt plug so my ass could recover overnight. My weekly health checks started to include examinations of my anal muscle tone, which I found oddly embarrassing. Interestingly - and I'd been told to expect this - my now-frequent, skillfully-performed fisting sessions had actually increased my anal muscle control. In any case, in my time at Cerberus I probably hadn't actually been fisted more than a dozen times, if that, and I was told I'd my asshole would fully recover from that after a break.
The next day being Sunday, I was always let out of my puppy cage and allowed to wander the Warehouse, cock-caged and wearing my padlocked chain choker but otherwise free of accessories. I was usually allowed up to one of the guest suites for a long bath or hot tub, or just have a long steamy shower in the communal block on the ground floor. One of the fluffers was really good at massage and had a couple of certificates, so if he was around I might get a thorough full-body theraputic session to ease out the kinks. If the guys were heading out to the pub, I could join - the weather was getting cold so typically I'd wear either my jeans or Gaelic footy shorts over my jock, hiking boots with socks, and a vest with my fleece on top (not very stylish but it was all I had). Sometimes I'd swallow some loads in the pub toilets but I'd avoid getting fucked so my pussy had maximum regeneration time.
After getting back to the Warehouse and stripping naked, I'd have my dogbowl dinner and rest on the floor under the other guys' bare feet while we watched TV before an early night ahead of the working week. My buttplug would be carefully reinserted before lights out.
TO BE CONTINUED....