Fuced

This story has dubious morals, taboo sex, and lots of BDSM. It's also super gay. Let me know what you want to see in future stories in the comments!

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I met my fiancée's dad, Mr. Vera, four years ago after only three months of seeing Jenna.

Jenna was absolutely beautiful, with deep brown eyes and dark, curly hair. She was bubbly, kind, intelligent, and her skills in the bedroom won me over almost immediately.

With her dad, however, it was not love at first sight.

Jenna's mom had passed away when she was only three, so it had just been him and her for the past sixteen years. During our first meeting, it was clear I was an outsider. He interrogated me.

"What do you do for fun?"

"Do you go out partying?"

"What are your grades like?"

"What's your dating history?"

"What are your

intentions

with my daughter?"

Mr. Vera had asked so many questions that I had started to consider how expensive lawyer fees would be in the grand scheme.

He was protective of his daughter, and I couldn't blame him for that. She was perfect, and I could tell that through it all, he put Jenna above everything. The way he looked at me, I was pretty sure I fit into the "everything" category that she was above.

Fast forward four years, and Jenna and I had been dating through college. We both grew up a little, and I had an okay relationship with her dad. We weren't going to go play catch or anything, but he had eased up a bit.

The big rift was that I had proposed to Jenna without talking to him first.

We never were traditional.

For instance, during that four year span, we decided to open our relationship. Neither of us were the jealous type, and we recognized that both of our vast sexual appetites stretched further than what could be provided by just one other person.

For one, she didn't have a dick, and I didn't have a pussy.

We both were resolutely bisexual, and even if she put on a strap or I were to crossdress, it was hard to scratch the deep itch we both had. Besides that, we both loved a variety of kink flavors, and sometimes that meant branching out.

I think if I were to explain that to Jenna's dad, I'd be chased out.

Anyway, I had a lot of online friends in the fetish community, and I frequently found myself messaging them to chat about new adventures, kinks, and events.

Jenna and I had even gone to kink conventions together, both decked out in fetish wear, flirting and playing with others right in front of each other.

So it didn't surprise me too much when a frantic and desperate invitation to a gay sex party flashed across my screen.

It was a friend of mine who lived only an hour away, Peter.

"Red alert. Defcon one. A bottom has dropped out of my party. Repeat, a bottom has dropped out of my party. PLEASE HELP.

I was in Jenna's dad's living room when I saw Peter's text. Jenna and I were staying with him for a few weeks before our new lease started. Walking on eggshells had become my new norm.

"A bottom?"

I sent back.

"As in you need to meet a quota?"

"Yeah,"

he sent back.

"I was planning on having two more tops and three bottoms over and randomly assigning people to fuck, but now what? It's going to be like musical twinks, and someone's going to be left without a hole to fuck."

"As the host, you probably should be the one to drop out, right?"

I texted, knowing how much that would piss him off.

He messaged me back quickly.

">:("

I rolled my eyes. I loved Peter, but he could be dramatic. Jenna's dad walked through the living room, causing me to jump and hide my phone screen for a moment, as if he would have been able to see it.

We made eye contact, and he gave me a half-hearted smile. I returned it.

Thankfully, he kept walking, and he left through the opposite doorway.

Did I mention the eggshells? We both loved Jenna, but her dad still loved to poke and prod at me, looking for any flaw that would prove I wasn't good enough for his daughter.

After I heard his footsteps fade upstairs, I texted Peter back.

"Okay,"

I said.

"So what do you want from me?"

"Want to replace the bottom?"

Holy fuck, that was a big ask. I wasn't a true bottom at heart. I was a switch, and even though Jenna and I had been to conventions, this would be my first foray into an actual

sex

party.

I didn't respond for a minute.

"You won't have to pay an entry fee, and I'll even provide all your STD testing and gear!"

Peter sent, taking my silence for apprehension.

"Gear?"

I hemmed and hawed. The idea kind of turned me on, taking a stranger's dick deep inside of me...

"Yeah,"

Peter texted.

"It's kind of a masquerade? But only for the bottoms..."

I chewed on my cheek. I could definitely let Jenna know where I was going, but since we were at her dad's, actually going was dicey. It wasn't too far, but I still doubted that disappearing for several hours and returning smelling of sweat and sex would be wise.

If her dad got wind that I was sleeping with someone else, even if Jenna knew about it, I would be in a world of trouble. He was one of those really big and muscular older guys with a shaved head and pepper-gray beard. Since Jenna's mom passed, he had been going to the gym like it was his job, and now it seemed like his muscles had muscles. In short, even though we had found somewhat of an equilibrium, he was scary as fuck.

The idea of bottoming in that kind of scenario though? It was just too hot.

I talked with Jenna about it that night, and she agreed and made plans with a friend of hers. I had never met this friend, but every time Jenna went to go see her, she packed away our biggest strapon to take with her. It sounded like she would get to have fun too.

Hopefully, with both of us gone, it wouldn't raise too much suspicion.

In the days leading up to the party, things were pretty much the same. Jenna and I would go to work, come home, and have dinner with her dad. The only difference for me was that I had to stop and get tested at the local clinic, with Peter paying extra for faster lab results.

As expected, I had a clean bill of health, and Peter cleared me for the party.

When the day finally rolled around, I was nervous not just for the party, but for sneaking out.

What would I tell her dad?

I decided just slip out the side door and try to avoid Jenna's father altogether.

Imagine my surprise when, stepping out onto the driveway, I saw her dad walking to his car all the way from the back door, coming from the opposite direction.

I gritted my teeth and braced myself for questioning as I waved at him.

"Hey Mr. Vera," I said, trying to stay focused on keeping my voice level. Was I talking too high? Too low? was I not varying my pitch enough?

Jenna's dad barely waved at me though, and I think he averted his eyes as he said "hey, Cole."

I didn't know if it was just my nerves, but I thought Jenna's dad was acting weird. I had expected at least a couple questions. Only now, he didn't seem to want to exchange a single word with me.

That was fine by me. I waved at him again as I got in my car. "I'll be out," I said, bbut I should be back before tonight."

He just nodded at me and shifted side to side uneasily. As I got into my car, I saw he was holding something in his hand. I think it was a duffel bag?

I didn't stick around to find out.

As I drove off, I saw Jenna's dad get in his truck and start to leave as well.

I made a stop along the way, grabbing some more water. I'm sure they would have plenty there, but i'd rather be safe than sorry.

Peter's house was in the suburbs, and it was a beautiful day. I decided to park my car a little further down the road and walk, listening to the trees rustle and birds sing.

Once Peter opened his front door, though, it was like I stepped into a different world.

He had hung bedsheets from the ceiling behind the front door with two routes available: a guest could either go left to the bedrooms, or they could go right to the rest of the house. Directly behind the bedsheet was the living room, which is where I assumed most of that day's activities would take place.

Peter was already in a robe that was tightly wrapped around him, surely hiding some harnessing or underwear meant to impress. He was muscular and clean-shaven, his curly hair was kept cropped. He was in his thirties, and a touch of gray appeared in his chest hair.

He leaned forward and hugged me while simultaneously pulling me inside. "Thank you so so much for doing this," he said. "I seriously cannot thank you enough."

"No," I said. "You can't."

I joked to hide my nerves.

Peter laughed, let me know the party's safe word, and pointed me toward the master bedroom, telling me to go put on what was on the bed in there, and suddenly I was on my own. I swallowed and felt my legs start to shake as I walked down the hall.

I'd had sex with men before, but it was almost always in a one-on-one setting, and I had always known who they were beforehand. This was another beast.

I wouldn't get to decide what I was going to wear or who I was going to have sex with.

The master bedroom had an outfit already on the bed for me. I had sent Peter my measurements before, and he had custom ordered some items.

Whatever Peter did for work, he was pretty well off.

Without looking at what Peter left me, I jumped into the shower to clean myself, blow drying my body afterwards to make sure I was dry.

Did I really want this? I had had things in my ass before, including other men, but was I ready for this?

I reminded myself that there was a safe word, and all I had to do was say it. Everyone here would understand. This was nerve-wracking, but there was nothing to be really scared of.

Once I was clean, I examined the outfit. I took a shaky breath. It left nothing to the imagination, that was for sure.

Using a gentle lubricant Peter left on the bedside table, I put on a pair of long latex gloves, a latex hood, and a skimpy latex thong. Peter had also left a posture collar that was meant to keep my neck straight, with constant pressure and support around my throat. Finally, I put on long, thigh-high white socks and a pair of high-heel black converse.

Peter always had a thing for thigh-high socks, and these ones almost reached my round asscheeks.

I had been told all of the bottoms were wearing masks, while the tops would be showing their faces.

The idea made me feel even more like an object to rent out. I shivered, and I felt my dick swell. Even with the nerves, The idea of kinky group sex kept me aroused.

I took a deep breath to steady my shakiness, and I stepped out into the hall.

When I did, I saw the two other bottoms were already standing at attention next to the other bedroom doors.

I had changed in the bedroom at the end of the hall, and the boy closest to me had a similar latex hood to mine, but it was bright pink with a high blonde ponytail sticking out of the top. He wore a frilly woven collar with a leash hanging down held in his hand. His fingernails and toenails were painted bright pink, and a sheer high-waisted thong hid his package. All of the skin I could see was completely smooth, and he had two heart-shaped pasties on his chest to hide his nipples. His skin was a light brown, and I couldn't tell just from looking if he was mixed or just incredibly tan.

The other bottom had a latex mask on as well, but a blindfold and gag were already latched in place, depriving him from seeing us. He wore a spiked red collar with a bone-shaped dog tag hanging from it. He was curvy and soft, and from his bubble butt, I could see a dog tail hanging down from a plug. He had on a special set of gloves that locked at the wrist and had no fingers or flexibility, acting as cages for his hands. If he wanted to do anything or take any of this off, he would need somebody else's help. I wondered how the hell he put all that on by himself. He shifted slightly, and I saw a chastity cage that dangled between his soft, chubby thighs, the submissive cherry on top.

I looked down at my own body. I went to the gym regularly, but I could never seem to put on enough muscle to look really buff. Because of that, I always had visible abs, pecs, and muscle in the right places, but I stayed slim. My body hair was groomed and kept close to my skin. My black latex gloves and thong were shiny, looking like oil.

It was hard to look down with the posture collar and heels, and I had to keep my eyes up most of the time to maintain my balance.

I fell in line with the two others, putting my hands on my sides to wait.

It wasn't long before Peter came to fetch us.

"Oh my God," he chuckled, "you guys didn't have to wait at attention like that. Just natural for you bottoms, huh?" He smiled a big, satisfied grin as he waved us over.

I felt my cheeks redden a bit. I always had a bit of a submissive side, but I always considered myself somewhere in the middle of the gay dichotomy. Even though I knew Peter somewhat well, hearing someone call me a bottom so flippantly and telling me it was natural for me to fall in line made me squirm on the inside.

We followed Peter back to where we had first met him at the front door, only now, he had taken down the bedsheet so that we could enter the living room. Three padded sawhorses stood in front of us, each with a central bar supported by four legs. These were custom, and they had a series of rings, latches, and locks along their legs.

Peter waved us into the room.

Each sawhorse had a tag with a number on it, labeling them from one to three. The two other bottoms were in front of me, and they obediently walked up to numbers two and three, with the pink latex bottom leading the blindfolded one to the end.

I guess I was number one.

I swallowed nervously. I'd seen these sawhorses in porn before, but it was different when I had to consider myself getting strapped onto one and fucked.

"Go back to attention, like before," Peter said. "That was cute. I'm going to go get the tops."

Peter left, and we all shifted back-and-forth anxiously, the bottom in the pink latex sometimes making eye contact and offering feeble smiles to me. The one with the blindfold and gag on his fucking own, I guessed.

Peter walked back in shortly, and we heard some steps around the corner, but the tops didn't walk out yet.

"I just had these nice men take a number from a bowl," Peter said, "and you will randomly be assigned a cock to fuck you."

He really wasn't pulling any punches.

"I took a number as well, of course, he said. "And so, I will take..."

Peter raised his finger and turned back-and-forth to each of us, teasingly half lowering his finger before raising it again.

I considered what it would be like to have sex with Peter. I knew what he liked, and he knew what I liked. He was very attractive, and from the pictures I had seen, he had a great cock. I'd even shown Jenna a picture once, and she had just raise her eyebrows in shock of his girth.

"Number two," Peter said, finally landing his finger on the bottom with the pink latex mask and painted nails.

I wondered if Peter had stacked the deck. He Had always liked feminine boys, and as he stared at the bottom with the pink mask, I could see the hunger in his eyes manifest.

"We," he said, smiling, "are going to have fun."

The pink mask bottom was closest to me, and I saw goosebumps rise across their entire body at Peter's words. They didn't say anything, but they seemed very happy.

"Let's bring out our next contestant," Peter said, continuing. "I hope you're ready for him."

Another man stepped from the hall, this one incredibly tall. He was at least six and a half feet in height, and his skin was incredibly dark. All the lights seem to be sucked from the room once he stepped in.

I wouldn't mind being chosen by him, although, as my eyes trail down his completely naked body, I felt a frog in my throat. His cock was incredibly long, curving to the left, even when it was only half erect.

Being wrapped around that thing would be... There was sure to be pleasure, but there was sure to be pain.

"Our second guest..." said Peter, once again, trailing off and theatrically waving his hand.

Peter thought he was on a goddamn game show as I waited, tensely holding my breath to see if I would have to accommodate that monster.

"... selected... number three!" Peter exclaimed, turning to the blindfolded and gagged bottom at the end of the row.

The poor guy had no clue what he was in store for, but my thoughts immediately returned to myself.

My partner would be whoever I saw next. I anxiously stared at the hallway, wondering what kind of man would come through.

"Our next contestant is a perfect fit for our next bottom," Peter said. "It happens to be both of their first times One of my parties, so they'll be newbies together!"

I stared as a shadow in the hall grew longer, and I swore I could feel the heavy steps of a man approaching. His shadow suggested thick arms and wide shoulders, and I felt myself starting to tremble in anticipation.

This man's very footsteps turned me on.

"I want to welcome our final participant," Peter said, "and wish you all good luck."

The top stepped around the corner, and I felt a hole in my chest.

Oh, fuck.

This had to be a prank.

No, it was worse than a prank. It had to be a nightmare.

Standing in the archway, a bulldog harness around his chest and a wearing black athletic jockstrap, Jenna's dad stood, his eyes staring directly into my masked face.

His muscles gleamed as if they were freshly oiled, and his striking gaze was unpeeling my soul.

He knew it was me. He had to know it was me, didn't he? How could he not?

I tried to recall the latex mask that I was wearing. I'd seen my reflection in it, but how many of my features were actually recognizable? where my eyes distinct enough for him to recognize them? He could see my lips too. Did I have any noticeable freckles?

Mr. Vera walked toward me in even, calm strides.

Was Jenna's dad gay? I had never seen him with a woman since I had met him, but he had to be here for me. He had to have followed me or something.

I shook.

He smiled at me. That was good, wasn't it? I prayed that he didn't know who I was. I turned down my face, looking at the floor, hoping that in the dark room, I could get out of this without him having an inkling of who I was.

The next question was how the hell I was going to get out of there.

Peter had given us all a safe word that would make everything stop, and there was no pressure for any person to stay.

The problem was, if I were to utter this safe word, let my voice be heard, Mr. Vera was sure to recognize me. Even with my eyes fixed on the floor, I saw his muscular and hairy legs In front of me. If he wanted, he could so much as step on me and it would be over.

I couldn't see his face, but I could feel his eyes trail over my skin, unwrapping me like a piece of candy to chew and swallow.

Okay.

I had to calm myself down. If he hadn't said anything so far, then there was no way that he recognized me. I mean, if he knew who I was, and he knew that I was here, I would currently be standing at some pearly gates.

Peter's voice broke past the surface of my panicked thoughts. "Right," he said, "it's time for you to get to know each other."

I chanced a quick look to my left, seeing what the others were doing. from the sounds of it, me and Mr. Vera were the only two who hadn't been to one of these parties, so everybody knew what to do.

The two other bottoms were sinking to their knees, and the tall black man was undoing the gag of the curvy caged bottom, revealing full, puffy lips.

Oh, God. They were starting with a blowjob?