By Andy Caulden

The public bar was packed with West Indians when Kevin and I entered the Bedford Arms. My boyfriend was clearly enjoying all the attention he was attracting from those around him, but I was more concerned about our safety.

A bald-headed man in his fifties, sporting a prominent gold tooth, put his hand on my shoulder and told me to follow him upstairs.

‘I recognized the two of yer, straight away,’ he shouted over the hubbub of the throng we were wading through. ‘You two boys are stars in this neck of the woods; those photo-sets of you being humped are a big hit.’

Kevin giggled when someone in the crowd playfully slapped his arse and said something I missed.

‘See. They all want a piece of yer arse,’ he continued.

We climbed the stairs to the top floor and entered a room that had been converted into a photographic studio.

The room was extremely large and separated into three areas: the one to the left had a black leather settee at its centre; the one to the right had a large double bed; and the area in the centre was filled with an array of lighting stands and camera tripods; and intermingled amongst this equipment stood the naked cast (Gary and three black men) and the fully dressed crew (Arnim, Bryan and Paul).

Arnim acknowledged us with a smile as he stood listening to Bryan’s plan for the next session. Apparently, prior to our arrival, Preston had seduced Gary on the settee, stripped him naked and pleasured him with his fingers and tongue. Then, once naked, the man had introduced Gary to his two naked friends, Devon and Leon. The next session would see the men carrying Gary across to the bed and fucking his brains out.

‘Fucking thing,’ said Bryan, as he continued to fiddle with the tripod that was refusing to hold the video camera in place.

‘I told you to use another tripod,’ rebuked Paul. ‘We’ve got three of the bloody things around here somewhere.’

‘Well, bugger me,’ said Bryan, throwing his arms up in delight. ‘Andy and Kevin must have brought us some good luck. The thing’s stayed put this time.’

Paul mumbled something uncomplimentary about Bryan under his breath, and then switched on the photofloods and waited for Gary and the three studs to step into the limelight.

‘Okay, let’s get this show on the road,’ said Bryan. ‘And don’t forget, Preston. I want to see that cock of yours really hard by the time I zoom in for the first close-up.’

Gary smiled coyly as Preston came up behind him, kissed the side of his neck and squeezed his tiny arse-cheeks. Paul put a reassuring hand on Bryan’s shoulder to let him know that they were still friends; and as he did so, Gee, the old black man, signalled that Kevin and I should get out of the way and stand over by the curtained windows, which offered a better view of the developing sex-romp.

Gary and the three studs were quick to get into their stride. The young thruster was carried over to the bed and thrown, unceremoniously, onto it. The men then jumped onto the bed and crowded in around their prize.

‘Superb!’ said Bryan, with a tremor in his voice. ‘That looks so-o-o sexy.’

‘Kiss and lick those cocks, Gary,’ ordered Arnim. ‘And Preston, pinch his nipples …. He likes that.’

As the romp continued under the photofloods, Gee took hold of Kevin’s cock and started to play with it.

Preston did as Arnim suggested, which prompted Gary to give out a low moan of satisfaction as he wrapped his hands around Devon and Leon’s erections. The sight of a skinny wimp having sex with three burly black men was far too stimulating for words. All I could do was stand and watch, open mouthed.

‘Okay, Gary,’ said Bryan. ‘Move forward and let Preston’s fingers go to work on your love-hole.’

Gary spread his legs, leaned forward and placed his hands flat-out on the bed. He then turned and smiled directly into the camera’s lens as Preston began fingering his tight ‘love-hole’.

‘That’s it, that’s it,’ Bryan enthused. ‘It’s a pity we don’t have another camera up and running. We could have done with a close-up of both his head and tail.’

‘Just concentrate on the head shot,’ said Arnim.

I stood by the curtained windows and watched Gary’s body tense, relax, and tense again in response to Preston’s probing fingers. I became very envious of Gary when I heard him cooing and sighing with such intensity. It was then that I heard Gee tell Kevin to drop his trousers, lean forward and take hold of his knees.

For some ten minutes, Gary and Kevin were treated to an exhilarating and mind-blowing bout of fingering. Kevin’s body quaked with excitement as Gee used the tip of his fingers to keep my boyfriend pleading for ‘more, more, more,’ – just like Gary was doing on the end of Preston’s probing fingers.

‘That’s it, Gee,’ said Arnim. ‘Get him ready for the next session. We can fuck him on the bed later, after the boys have finished poking Gary.’

The camera zoomed in to capture a tight close-up of Gary struggling to cope with Leon’s nine-inch cock – his mouth was simply too small to accommodate the whole thing in one go. Unfortunately, I missed out on what happened next: Gee’s fingers had struck gold and Kevin was howling with satisfaction.

Kevin grasped his knees, shook his head and said, ‘please don’t stop’. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the old man and my slutty boyfriend.

‘What a horny little fucker,’ said Arnim. ‘He certainly likes all that attention you’re giving him, Gee.’

‘Don’t over do it,’ put in Paul. ‘We don’t want him shagged out before the big event.’

I shuddered with excitement as my imagination conjured up a vivid image of the ‘big event’: Kevin was going to be fucked by dozens of big, burly men. They were all waiting on the staircase, and they were all naked and extremely horny.

‘Come on, Sugar,’ said Gee. ‘Let’s fool around on the settee …. It’ll be more comfortable.’

‘But,’ Kevin said in a disappointed huff.

‘No buts!’ chide Gee. ‘The settee awaits us.’

From the glint in his eye, I knew that Gee was expecting Kevin to reward him for all the hard work he had put in so far; and sure enough, the instant they were on the settee he assumed the position and invited my boyfriend to suck on his hard-standing cock.

‘That’s it, Sugar,’ he cooed, as Kevin ran his tongue over the old man’s cock-head. ‘Keep doing…. Ah! Yes, yes, yes-s-s-s.’

Meanwhile, on the bed, Devon and Gary were locked in a passionate embrace. The camera had been moved to a new location, to get a better view of the action, and Paul and Arnim were waiting for Devon to end the scene by turning Gary on to his front and spreading his legs apart.

‘That’s grand,’ said Bryan to Devon. ‘Now in the next scene, I want to see you climb aboard and take Gary for an anal ride. And don’t go worrying about being too hard on the lad, he can handle it.’

As Devon reached for the Vaseline, Bryan announced that he needed to replace the tape in the video camera; a task that only took a couple of minutes to complete.

With a new tape in the camera, Bryan signalled to Arnim that he was ready to resume.

‘Okay, everybody,’ said Arnim. ‘Let’s get this show on the road. We have a hole to fill and an audience to please, so chop, chop.’

Gary sniggered and braced himself for the scene ahead. He had been arse-fucked before, but never by a cock that was as big as Devon’s.

The teenager winced when Devon’s cock-head entered his arsehole, and he shuddered as the Vaseline coated cock pushed its way into his rectum.

‘Spread those legs apart, Gary,’ boomed Arnim. ‘And don’t look so glum. It’s good to have a cock up your bum.’

Bryan looked up from the camera and gave an exaggerated sigh: he had heard the same old line from Arnim before. Gary was too preoccupied with Devon’s lust for his arse to take much notice of the remark. He just shut his eyes and grimaced when the man’s powerful buttocks began hammering his body into the mattress.

Because of all the attention he had received from the three studs, Gary was far too exhausted to watch his replacement being stretched out on the bed and fucked by Arnim and Gee. The two men managed to put Kevin in the same exhausted state as Gary. In fact, the two ‘white wimps’ spent a good hour recovering on the settee while their lovers drank beer and discussed their sexual prowess.

* * *

A month after that first gang-bang at Paul’s flat, the shrink asked me to help him salvage an observational project that was going awry at the hospital. He lost me in a jungle of jargon, but kept emphasizing how vital the project was to his research, and how he was hoping to publish a paper on it.

We arrived at the hospital at eleven o’clock on Sunday morning and left around two in the afternoon. Beyond the main gate, the hospital grounds seemed to go on forever. Old Victorian buildings filled the entire site, and most of them were in desperate need of renovation. I sat in silence as Paul drove his Bentley to the psychosurgical unit.

Once there, we made our way to his office. Paul put on his white coat and picked up a bunch of keys from his desk. We left the office and walked up several flights of stairs and along a wide corridor to our destination, which was an interview room on the top floor of the building.

Unknown to me, a Mr Lance Worthington was also in the building. He was scheduled for some experimental surgery which, it was hoped, would reduce his sexual urges and curb his aggressive behaviour toward the weaker sex, i.e. young men who couldn’t fight off his amorous advances. Worthington was a sexual predator, but he was nowhere near as dangerous as those held in Broadmoor; however, Paul was taking a big risk by letting him loose on me.

Once inside the interview room, which had no windows, I was told to strip naked and stand in a corner of the room with my hands behind my back. I clenched my teeth and shuddered when the light went out and I heard the door close behind the exiting psychiatrist. Paul locked the heavy wooden door behind him and went back to his office to fetch a hospital gown and a pair of slippers.

I stood in the darkness for what seemed like forever. Paul had switched off the light, locked me in the room and carried off all my clothes. My vivid imagination began to focus on the motive behind the good doctor’s visit to the hospital. What if I was being set-up? Paul may have arranged for me to be sectioned under the Mental Health Act, and no one would be able to question the decision. After all, what would a sane person be doing wandering around a psychiatric hospital in the nude, and when questioned, have no idea why he was there?

I considered leaving my post, but I didn’t have it in me to go against Paul’s instructions. Besides, where could I go, even if I did manage to get out of the interview room?

The sound of a key turning in the lock brought me back to reality. Paul opened the door, switched on the light and told Worthington, the man standing behind him, my name and age. The deal the two men had struck was quite straightforward: Worthington would comply with all the hospital rules for a month and agree to undergo a few painful tests; and in return, he could fuck a wimp while the good doctor watched.

Paul locked the door as Worthington took off his gown and slippers. He then watched the burly nutter grab hold of me like a hungry bear. I was lifted off the floor and carried to the centre of the room, where a wooden table was bolted to the floor. I was spread out on the table and had a finger forced into my mouth. It was then that the nutter grabbed hold of my ball-sac and squeezed it real hard.

‘Don’t you go biting, boy,’ Worthington warned. ‘I’ll rip off your bollocks and stuff ’em down your throat, if you do.’

‘He won’t bite, Lance,’ said Paul. ‘He likes being bossed around; he’s famous for it.’

‘Good. That’s good,’ said Worthington, smiling.

The feeding frenzy went on for almost two hours. The nutter pushed and pulled me around as if I were a rag doll. I didn’t resist his advances or complain about his heavy-handed tactics; but equally, I didn’t comply with his demands as readily as I should have done. Later, I put this lack of enthusiasm down to the resentment I was feeling toward Paul at the time, and the way the arrogant bastard had casually pimped me out to a psycho rapist.

The long walk back to the office, with me dressed in a hospital gown and slippers, was very uncomfortable and humiliating for me. Paul led the way through the security doors and down the stairs. We passed no one on the way, which saved my blushes as I hobbled along the corridors in the ill-fitting gown. I swore under my breath as I recalled how Worthington had used and abused my body, and how Paul had encouraged him to do so.

My cock twitched as I remembered how helpless I had felt during the ordeal. It twitched again when I recalled the moment I was impaled on Worthington’s sex starved cock, which was as big as Arnim’s, but far more demanding. My cock began to rise beneath the gown as I realised how exciting and dangerous it had all been. Being thrown in at the deep end had initially made me angry, but now I was warming to the idea of being pimped out to randy, dominant men.

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Copyright (c) 2011-2013 Andy Caulden