All participants are over 18.
*****
I groaned as Drew pushed me over the back of my couch and yanked my sweatpants down. With my bare ass open to him, he unzipped and let out his wood. He gave it a couple of tugs as he spat on my asshole. He spread the saliva around my anus with the tip of his cock, letting it mix with his pre-cum. When he felt like I was lubed enough, he put his hands on my shoulders and thrust the glans of his penis through my sphincter, burying his cock up to the hilt in my ass. I moaned with pleasure as the intruding cock sawed in and out of me.
Drew never lasted long, but I was sometimes lucky enough to come before he did. I was so well turned out a fag that ass-fucking alone could make me blow my load.
I thought back to the epic destruction of my old life and my initiation into life as a gay cum-whore.
My former co-worker, Mitch, took some nude photos of me when I was changing in the locker room. He threatened to expose my one-inch dick to the world if I didn't do as he said. I had a hard time getting a date already; if the size of my cock was made public knowledge, I'd never get laid. So I agreed to meet him in a dusty, abandoned arena the next night. Mitch had set and lit the stage. He ordered me to undress before his many cameras. I hesitated of course, but I took a chance that if I did as he said, he'd destroy the pictures and at least keep the video private. Once I was nude, Mitch instructed me to perform sex acts with him and six other men and God help me, I did it. After what seemed like hours, my mouth and my ass had been taken more than a dozen times each and I jacked their cocks off a number of times. I myself came more times than I can remember. I was covered in semen and laying in a puddle of it when Mitch made me say my name to the camera and say I gave consent for everything he and his friends had done to me. Well, technically, it was true; I had a choice. I stood up and faced the camera, dripping with cum from head to toe. To my puzzlement I was still deeply aroused and possessed by a strange pride in my humiliation. I shouted far more at the camera than I should have done.
"I give consent! I give my irrevocable consent to every real man to take my mouth or my ass anytime, anywhere, forever!"
Mitch, of course, could not be trusted. Not only did he release the nude pictures of me online, but he also posted a slick, well-edited video of my cum-whoring session. While Mitch and his friends are only seen from the neck down, and therefore are anonymous in the video, my face and body appear in every glorious shot. Highlights include the spit-roast in which I sucked a cock while my ass was ridden; me blowing every one of the guys; and me licking semen off my hands and arms, even off the floor itself.
Mitch was either handy with computers or knew someone who was. He had the savvy to hack my e-mail and social media and send a link to the video to everyone I had in my contacts. He also sent it to everyone at work. For good measure, he posted it on Pornhub, where the video soon went viral. I had gone from being nobody to being notorious.
I wasn't idle when this happened. I went to the police and spoke to a detective whose ongoing investigation into the legality of the video includes occasionally dropping by and dropping one in my ass. After about a dozen of my co-workers took my recorded consent at face value, I went to the Human Resources director and ended up sucking his cock. I left his office with cum in my face and hair. I had just enough pride left to quit that job, but that left me in a rough position. I was able to argue my corporate employers into giving me a severance package, but I have been living on that for months and I'm nearly out of money.
Presently, Drew began to pant very distinctively as he always did when he got close to coming. His thrusts were harder and deeper, stimulating my prostate and sending shudders through my bowel. Drew cried out and I moaned as I came all over my couch. I shivered under Drew's leaning bulk. He pulled out of me and as always, I knelt down and licked his cock clean. He zipped up.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Drew said cheerfully as he picked up his mailbag and left to continue his route. A minute later, he was back. "I almost forgot. Here's your mail."
I thanked him, closed the door as he left and looked at the envelopes. Credit card bills, utility bills. Hmm... one item stood out as something different. There was no return address but my name and address were written with calligraphic flare. What would this be? A family reunion or wedding? I certainly would not attend. My family was less than supportive of me after my video came out. My parents weren't even speaking to me. I ripped the envelope open, full of curiosity.
It was an old-fashioned letter.
The stationery was classy and bore the address of The Pleasure Palace. It was in the big city an hour away, but I had never heard of it. The first part of the letter explained that The Pleasure Palace was possibly the world's premier destination for adults seeking sexual adventure and satisfaction. It described facilities that catered to men and women, gay and straight, young and old and offered a repertoire of pleasuring services that would appeal to anyone's desires.
The second part of the letter concerned me directly.
"You have come to our attention as an individual with an extraordinary skill-set and, thanks to your video, as a star in your own right and in your own field. Are you appreciated by your current employer? We can assure you that your stamina, your potency and your enthusiasm would be treasured at The Pleasure Palace. As a celebrity cocksucker and fuck toy, you would be a beacon for attracting new business to our establishment. In exchange, we are prepared to offer you a competitive wage (shift premiums and overtime apply) and a comprehensive benefits package and you can begin immediately. Any gratuities left for you by customers would be exclusively your own."
Okay, so it was not exactly an old-fashioned letter, but it was a job opportunity. I would be paid at The Pleasure Palace for what I was currently giving away at home. Could I do it? There was no shame to overcome; the widespread release of Mitch's video saw to that. What about the work itself? Sucking cock and taking it up the ass all day, wearing a fresh coat of cum... My cock was twitching at the idea.
What have I got left to lose?
I called the number on the letter and spoke to the Recruitment Manager of The Pleasure Palace.
"Great to hear from you," he said. We discussed some of the details and I mentioned that I was not sure about the job. He sweetened the pot by offering me a trial period: if anything bothered me about the job, I could just walk away. For the week-long trial, the company would put me up in a fancy hotel. I agreed and accepted the job offer. My start date was the next day.
I'll say this, The Pleasure Palace was a solid outfit. The building itself was a restored theatre and somehow it added class to the earthy action inside. The Recruitment Manager showed me around the establishment. There was a long bar and the hall of the theatre itself faced a stage which could not help but remind me of the arena stage where Mitch humiliated me. There were several chambers where various sexual needs were gratified ranging from fetish to BDSM. Then there were the gloryholes.
I felt excited by the surroundings and the writhing forms within. I knew I could do this.
After the tour, we signed all the pertinent paperwork. I was now an employee on a trial basis. My shift was six p.m. to two a.m. and I was welcome to start today if I wished.
I did. My first assignment was the gloryholes. There were no uniforms for my position and clothes weren't very practical, so I locked my civilian wear in a locker newly-assigned to me and skipped to my new work assignment with excitement. The only thing that made me self-conscious as I walked to the room was the exposure of my micro-dick, visible to every co-worker I met. Strangely, neither male nor female co-workers made any comment of my one-inch organ.
I arrived at Room One. It was a small room and everything was painted black, even the door. There were two gloryholes, each on opposite walls. Beside each gloryhole was a slot into a kind of mailbox, the tip collector. On the wall opposite the door, there was a heavy plate-glass window. I saw that there was a little private booth on the other side and space for two observers to sit or stand. So sometimes I would have an audience. My cock twitched at the thought.
It was six o'clock. Time to begin.
I heard action on the other side of the walls. There was a shuffle of feet and then a cock came through one of the holes. It was a big affair and it was black. I leaned in and closed my mouth over the glans of this impressive specimen and immediately began to massage the penis with my tongue.
I felt my own one-incher vibrate in excitement. Very soon, a drop of pre-cum joined my cock to the floor. I liked the gloryhole! I still felt like the true submissive that I am, but I was also cognizant of the power I held in the situation. The power to give pleasure. That turned me on as much as anything did.