Cover for Me

Ever had one of those days that start off normal, and end up with you on all fours, covered in cum, taking dick in both ends? 'Cos I have. It all began with a phone call from Brad, my friend from college.

"Hey man," Brad said, as I answered the phone. "Long time no speak. How you been?"

"What's up man?" I replied. It must have been a couple of years since we last spoke. Now we'd finished college it was hard to find the time to meet up. "I'm good. It's good to hear from you."

"Likewise man, likewise. You still hitting the gym?"

"Was just about to go actually, yeah." I replied. In actual fact I was lying in bed, but it was past 11:00am and I didn't want to seem lazy.

"Awesome man, that's awesome...." Brad said, before going silent for a couple of seconds.

"Sooo, is there any reason for this call?" I enquired to Brad, sitting up in my bed and rubbing my eyes. "I mean, it's been a while since we spoke..."

"I uhh, I got a favour to ask you," Brad said. I could sense a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

"Go for it man," I said. If I could help him out, I would.

"Well, uhh, I don't know if you heard but I was in an accident last week. Nothing serious, just some fucking idiot going into the side of my car at a junction."

My eyes widened. "Oh fuck! I didn't hear!"

"Yeah. It's a pisser. Anyway, the only real damage to me is a broken leg, but unfortunately that means I can't work for a couple of months..."

I thought I knew where this was going. I'd have loved to have helped him, but I didn't have much money myself. I was only just getting by in my job as a personal trainer. "Listen man," I began, "you know I'd help you out if I could but I'm completely skint at the moment. Is there no one else you could c-"

"I'm not asking for money," Brad interrupted. "I wouldn't do that. I'm asking that you...cover for me. Do my job. The boss says if I can't find my own suitable replacement for while I'm out of action then I'm fired. You're about as suitable as it gets..."

This was unexpected. I wondered what it was that made me suitable. "I see." I replied, slowly. "What's the job?"

"Promise you won't hang up?" he interjected.

"Why would I hang up?" I responded. "Just tell me what the job is."

Brad cleared his throat. "Okay. I'm a servant."

"A servant??" I spluttered. "What, you managed to get a job in Victorian London? Who the fuck has servants?"

"Let me finish," Brad said. "'Servant' is a loose definition. I work for this like, mega-rich dude who throws parties every Saturday for his friends. I go, serve them drinks, get them what they need, that sort of thing."

"Okay...." I reply, slightly confused. "I've never done anything like that in my life. Why the fuck would I be suitable?"

"Let me finish," Brad said. He took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for what he was about to say. "The 'parties' are sort of, specialist. The men who attend them are all gay. My job is to walk around with not-a-lot of clothes on, and give them something to look at."

I sat bolt upright in bed. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"I know," he replied quickly. "I know how it sounds, alright? But it's not so bad, honestly. They pay £1000 for every shift. It's good money, y'know?"

"It'd have to be good money to do that." I quick snapped back. "Is it not totally fucking humiliating? And why the fuck do you think I'm suitable?"

"Mate, I've seen your body. You have a physique very similar to mine. Toned, muscular, but not overly so. They call it being a 'twunk'. Plus..." he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "I know you're not aversed to the idea of being with a guy..."

"Oh come on," I protested. "I sucked you off like one time, and we were both drunk! I've had a girlfriend for the last three years!"

"So you've already done more than what I'm asking you to do tonight! Please man, the absolute worst that could happen is one of them slaps your ass. They aren't deviants, they won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. It's £1000 to show your body off in some skimpy clothes for a few hours. What's the harm?"

I mulled it over. When put like that, it sounded quite tempting. I could make in a night what it usually takes me nearly a month to earn. And if Brad's out of action for what, two months? Eight Saturdays equals £8000. That sort of money would make a huge difference.

I cleared my throat. "Fucking hell, I can't believe I'm about to say this. Fine. Tell your boss I'll turn up tonight. Tell him it's a trial run though. If I'm not comfortable I'm leaving..."

"Oh mate you fucking legend!" Brad said loudly. "I'll text you the address. When you get there go round to the left side of the main entrance to a little blue door. That's your entrance. You enter into a little nook where you'll see a small clothes rack with your uniform on. At 8:00pm exactly you walk through the next set of double doors and your shift begins. Thanks again man."

"You owe me." I said, as I hung up the phone.

Well, this changed my plans for the day. I got out of bed and stood in front of my mirror, naked. I did have a good body. More toned, like a swimmer. Similarly hairless too. I looked down at my cock, sitting soft between my legs at maybe just over five inches. Bigger when hard, though. Then I turned round, inspecting my ass. It was big. Bouncy. I gave it a little wiggle and smile, before going to get dressed.

Once dressed, I checked my phone to see Brad had messaged me the address. If the shift started at eight, I figured getting there at 7:30 would make sense. I continued with my normal routine, my head filled with thoughts about what the night may bring, up until about 7pm. Dressed in a pair of joggers and a white t-shirt, I got into my car and began the drive to my workplace for the night.

The roads were quiet, so I arrived at around 7:20pm. The house, or mansion, was absolutely huge; whoever lived here could easily afford to pay a guy a thousand to look sexy for the night. I parked my car round the side of the building and got out, looking for the blue door Brad had told me about. Once I'd found it, I hesitantly opened it and made my way inside.

The room I entered into was small, and dimly lit. It was empty, save for the small clothes rack in the corner I'd been told about, and a note on the floor. I picked up note. It read:

'Please find your attire for the night on the nearby clothes rack. Brad may have told you only to come through at 8, but you may enter the rest of the house at 7:30 to familiarise yourself with the layout. Do not come up stairs. At 8pm my guests will begin to arrive. I want you to greet them cordially and show them into the piano room. Address everyone you meet as 'Sir'. Do not be afraid to show a bit of personality. You may be nervous, but we don't want robots. You will find your payment in cash, in this room once your shift ends.'

I looked over at the clothes rack and could see that whatever it was I was wearing, there wasn't a lot of material. I moved over to it and picked up a small, black thong. It was smooth and shiny, as it was made out of latex or some other material like that. I shook my head as I examined it, not quite able to believe I was in this situation. As I looked up, I noticed a small, black bow tie also on the rack. Cute.

I sighed, and began to undress. I whipped my shirt off followed by my pants, and hung them both on the rack. Looking down at myself, I put my hands in the seam on my briefs and slid them down my ankles, before stepping out of them. Next came the thong. I stepped into it and immediately noticed it was quite small. The material wasn't the easiest to pull on either, and after a little bit of a battle I finally managed to get it on. I made sure my cock was comfortably tucked away before looking down at my ass. Fuck, it looked sexy. The thong accentuated the juiciness of it perfectly, and I felt myself go a little red as I realised how fucking hot I looked. The bowtie was easier to get on as it just went over my head and around my neck.

I looked at my phone before sliding it into the pocket of my discarded pants. 7:31pm. It was time to go through.

I made my way through the double doors, to a beautiful but dimly lit hallway. To one side of me was a grand staircase, with a corridor beneath it leading to the kitchen. The other side was the front entrance, presumably where the guests would be entering from. Straight ahead was another door. I made my way over to it and opened it, where I was greeted by the sight of a majestic piano room. A fire was roaring at the far end, with a grand piano in the nearest corner. In the middle of the room was a couple of expensive-looking leather couches and armchairs, enough room for maybe six or seven people to sit.

Okay, I knew where the piano room was. What about the kitchen? I made my way back to the entrance and behind the staircase, before making my way through a door. Inside I found what appeared to be a restaurant quality kitchen, filled with all kinds of cookers and ovens and fridges and freezers. As I was examining equipment, a door opened, and man in a chef's outfit walked through. He looked at me, and shook his head.

"What, did they get bored of Brad?" he asked me, in a gruff voice. The man was maybe 60 years old, small, and hairy.

"He's uhh, injured actually. Broken leg. I'm covering for him."

The chef laughed. "Didn't know there was an agency for slutty man servants. Listen son, if they ask for anything to eat or drink come and tell me and I'll make it for you. They don't expect you to be able to cook or make cocktails."

I nodded at the man, and slowly backed out of the kitchen. Well, that was humiliating.

I had a nose around the ground floor for a little while. It was majestic. The whole place was dimly-lit, with black and red decor. Whoever owned this place had expensive taste. As I was examining a particularly expensive looking piece of art on the wall, I heard the doorbell ring.

My heart dropped. Suddenly every other feeling I'd been having was replaced with nerves. What the fuck was I doing? I edged towards the door, and took a deep breath as I opened it.

"Good evening Sir," I said, through gritted teeth. "Please come in."

The man looked to me to be about 40. He had black hair, styled neatly into a side parting, with a neatly trimmed beard and a tanned complexion. He looked to have Italian heritage, I'd say. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, obviously very expensive.

The man smiled. "So you're young Brad's replacement. I have to say, I'm impressed." The man stepped into the entrance and I closed the door behind him.

I smiled, nervously. "Right this way, Sir," I muttered.

The man followed me into the piano room and sat down on one of the couches. "I'll have a glass of bubbly," he said. "And please, take your time leaving..."

I smiled at the man and began walking out of the room slowly. I could almost feel his eyes glaring at my ass. When I was finally out of sight, I scurried over to the kitchen and met up with the chef. "Glass of champagne please!" I shouted to him, before I heard the doorbell again. I once again hurried over to the front door and welcomed in an exquisitely-dressed man. This one looked barely any older than me, with short blonde hair and a tall, slender frame.

This occurred three more times, each man I was greeting looking as rich and well-groomed as the last. The third man looked the oldest at around 50, and his hair was greying, but you could see under the tux he was still in great shape. The fourth and fifth men both looked late thirties, one bald with a well-kept beard, the other clean shaven with fiery red hair.

I got all the men their drinks and stood near them in the piano room, as my presence dominated conversation.

"So what's your name, beautiful?" the younger man said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Uhh, David," I replied, suddenly regretting giving my real name.

"Cute. I must say, I'm impressed Brad found such an adequate replacement on such short notice." he said to the other men.

"Indeed." The red-haired man said. "I'd say this one's better than Brad; look at the arse on him!"

I could feel myself blushing terribly and assumed I must have been looking like a beetroot. Even so, I turned away from the men to give them a better view of my bouncy ass, even playfully bouncing a cheek with my hand.

"There's a good boy!" one of the men said, laughing. "You'll get on just fine here."

Just then, the silhouette of another man appeared in the doorway. Ashe walked closer, I saw the face of what I assumed to be the owner of the house for the first time. I immediately thought he was hot.

He stood at around 6'2, with short brown hair impeccably styled, and a short, groomed beard sitting on his chiselled jawline. He was dressed more casually than the other men in a button-up shirt and some slacks, but his very presence exuded dominance. He was very much the leader of this pack.

"Good evening gentleman." the man said to his guests. He turned to me. "Good evening boy."

"G-good evening." I replied, meekly.

"I trust this one has greeted you all well." The man said, turning back to his guests. They all nodded, staying quiet.

"Good. Well done boy. Now go and fetch me a martini."

I immediately did as I asked, scurrying into the kitchen where the chef fixed me the drink. I brought it back and handed it to the man, who was already in deep conversation with his guests. I stood myself near the circle of chairs and couches.

"The bloody wife still isn't using that tennis court I built her," the Italian man said. "I could have had another pool in that space, but no, she insisted on a tennis court. Stupid woman."

The other men laughed.

"You boy, David was it?" he said, looking at me. "Is there a woman in your life?"

"Uhh," I said, immediately getting flustered. "Sort of...we're off and on...luckily she hasn't asked me to build her a tennis court yet..."

The men all looked at me in silence. I was worried I'd said something untoward, before each one began to chuckle. Phew.

"And does she know you're currently stood nearly-naked in front of a group of men?" one of the men asked.

"I hope not." I replied. The men once again laughed.

Now the ice was broken the night began to go quicker. It was getting easier to accept the comments from the men, and I grew to enjoy the way they looked at me. If nothing else, they made me feel sexy. As the night wore on and the drinks continued to flow, the conversation grew somewhat hornier.

"I like a slutty boy," the oldest man said to the other guests as I handed him a drink. "One of my boys begs for my cum at the end of every fuck session. He knows his place."

The other men all smiled and nodded. The older man then grabbed my ass and wiggled it in his hand. "Just wish my boy had an ass as juicy as this!"

I was momentarily stunned. The man wiggled my ass and gave it a slap, before I moved back over to my position.

"Are you a slut, boy?" Another man asked. "I bet you are..."

"Erm, never been called that before," I chuckled.

"I bet you are though. How many men have you been with?"

Even though I was more comfortable with the mens' comments now, I still blushed. I mean, I couldn't blame them for thinking I was gay.

"Just...just the one, actually."

"Just the one?!" the ginger man said. "But Brad has told us about you. He said you gave him the best blowjob he's ever had. Said you were begging for his dick...do you mean to tell us he's the only man you've been with?

What the fuck? Brad said that? I couldn't remember much from the night I sucked him off, but surely I wasn't begging him? Jesus.

I nodded. Some of the men gasped.

"I knew this was too good to be true!" one of the men shouted. "We told Brad to find a fucking slut! This one ain't even had a dick in his ass!"

My heart started pounding mightily. Had I been set up here? Was this more than just serving drinks? The owner of the house, who'd been quiet so far, stood up, and walked towards me.

"Listen son, did Brad explain what your role is here?" He put his hand on my shoulder, almost reassuringly.

"He told me I'd have to wear a skimpy uniform and serve some drinks for the night. He said at most I might get my ass slapped."

"That was true to an extent. But there are other duties. Did Brad not tell you them?"

"Other duties? No?"

The man sighed. "Once we've had our fill of alcohol, which is usually about now, the real festivities begin. I'm sure I don't have to spell it out for you, but Brad's role is to serve us sexually. A role which he enjoys. I'm struggling to understand why he didn't tell you?"

"Because he knew I'd never have agreed if I knew that?" I replied.

"That's unfortunate." the man said. "Well, given the circumstances, I see no other option but to let you leave. With full pay, of course. But ask yourself this...have you enjoyed tonight?"

I looked up at the man. It had been nice to feel sexy. To feel wanted.

I nodded.

"Why?"

"Uhh...I think...well...it's made me feel sexy. I like feeling attractive..."

"Exactly boy. So I have an offer. You can leave now, as I said. Full pay. You never have to see us again. Or, you can stay. You can continue to feel sexy, to feel wanted." The man's hand slipped off my shoulder and began to caress my chest. "I'll double your payment too, sweeten the deal. Though I suspect your mind is already made up..."

I watched the other men all rise to their feet, and stand next to the man. They all began to loosen their ties, unbutton their shirts and unzip their pants as I stood there, equal parts terrified and curious. But I didn't move. I stood there, as one by one, each man got completely naked. Each of them sporting a rock hard cock of various sizes, all of them bigger than mine. And still, I didn't leave.

"Last chance to leave." The man said to me. "You can walk out this door now and regret it, or you can drop to your knees. We both know what you want..."

I took a deep breath. I knew I wasn't leaving. I felt my cock tent the latex thong I'd been forced to wear. Then I slowly let myself fall to my knees.

The smell of this man's cock hit me straight away. It was a deep, musky smell, entering my nostrils and sending me into a frenzy. All inhibitions were gone as I reached forward and took his dick in my hand. I jerked it a couple of times, a bead of pre-cum forming on his cock head, before I moved myself forward and parted my lips.

"Good boy," he whispered, as the other men circled me. I wet his cock with my saliva, taking his head in my mouth and sucking slowly at first. I kept my eyes closed and sucked, enjoying the moans and groans of the man above me. His hand grasped the back of my head and slowly coaxed me further on his dick, before I began to feel other hands fondle and grope me. I felt someone grab my wrist and place my hand on their dick, which I immediately began to jerk. Another man did the same with my other hand. Before long I was working over three dicks to a chorus of moans, with my own dick harder than it'd ever been.

Suddenly, the Master stepped back and the Italian man stepped in front. I hungrily dived on his cock, sucking it furiously as I felt the cocks in my hands change. I jerked them off just as expertly as before, feeling another man began to slap and grope my big ass.

"Look at me bitch," the ginger man said as I sucked his cock. I opened my eyes and looked up, the feeling of submission overwhelming me as I sucked and sucked. "What would your girl think if she seen you now?" I ignored the comment and kept on sucking.

This continued for what felt like ages. Each man had a turn in my mouth and in my hands, with a couple at a time enjoying playing with my ass. It was horny as fuck to feel this lusted after.

"I think it's about time we put this to use," one of the men said, as they guided a sharp smack to my right arse cheek.