CONTENT WARNING: This story is heavily nonconsensual and darker than my last few. It involves drug use, sexual assault, trauma and other sensitive topics. Please do not read this if you are uncomfortable.
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Saturday night at The Screw was always wild. The drinks were strong, the bass was heavy, and most importantly the guys were just my type. It doubled as a chill cocktail bar in the evening, but when the basement dance floor opened at midnight, that's when shit got real.
Unlike some of the twinkier clubs in the area, The Screw catered to bears, beards and muscle bound Daddies. You could still find the occasional smooth boy on the hunt, but it was generally a furry bunch.
I, of course, was in the twink camp and frequented with a likeminded group of friends. Easy to spot, we were all totally smooth--face, chest, everything--most of us naturally. We weren't into the leather scene like a lot of other patrons and instead opted to go shirtless in our basketball shorts. That night I was naughty and also went commando.
Even though this place was notoriously raunchy, I didn't necessarily go there to get fucked. Sure, I expected at least one dance floor makeout and maybe even a cheeky finger, but nothing tooooo crazy. But by 1AM, when the crowd was hot and heavy, those puritan ideals no longer seemed realistic.
I'd taken ecstasy to ramp up my night (sue me) and was starting to feel it. My blood simmered as flashing lights burned still images of the sweating bodies around me. The energy was chaotic but sexual, the DJ perfectly in tune with our collective libido. We were all on something and he controlled us like puppets through his hypnotic techno beat. One big wave of touching, groping, kissing, grinding.....
"Oliver! Hey, Oli! Earth to Oli!!!"
"Huh... W-what...?"
I was momentarily ripped out of the trance by my friend Jesse.
"Oli! Yo! Oli!"
"Yeah, yeah! What?"
We were both screaming to hear each other over the blaring bass.
"I think that guy's checking you out!"
"What!"
"I said I think that guy's checking you out!! And he's really cute!"
I could barely understand him so he just turned me around and pushed, and when I stumbled forward a huge guy caught me.
"Sup."
"Oh! Uhhhh..."
I looked up and he was seriously my type. Taller than my 6'2", older than my 28, and of course hairier than my smooth ass. It finally clicked what my friend was saying and I blushed.
"H-hi... I'm Oliver."
I stuck my hand out like an idiot but he brought me into a close hug.
"Clyde."
I didn't know what to do but "Clyde" took the lead and started grinding his body up against mine. With his arms around me there was nowhere to go so I grinded back on him, and soon we had a nice rhythm going. The drugs had warped my sense of time, but in reality it had only been about two minutes since I was ripped out of the trance. But now I was comfortable again, streamlined right back in, this time with a big man to guide me.
Clyde had the right moves to turn me on. Never getting too excited, he stayed masculine and collected while controlling our hips to the beat. My slim body was tight up against him, undulating, putting on a show for the men around us. I've always been an exhibitionist and as one of the few smooth guys it was fun to feel unique. Most dudes weren't even into that here, but the ones who were loved it.
My eyes closed and truthfully I couldn't even keep them open. I felt so good, like I was awake, asleep and on another planet all at the same time. And on top of that I was SO fucking horny! My skin sizzled as Clyde swayed my hips and rubbed my back.
I noticed how hard I was, then how hard he was! Evidently also commando, I could see the outline of his big tip through his basketball shorts. That really got me hot, knowing I'd turned him on, so I ground even more provocatively against him.
Clyde slipped his hand down my shorts in response and felt around my plump butt. I looked up at him and he met my gaze very coolly before kissing me hard. The kiss was overwhelming and his coarse beard tore my face up. He used his other hand to hold my head still while vigorously exploring my mouth and ass.
"Smooth. Good," he approved while sliding up my crack. It was the only other thing he'd said.
I blushed again as this stoic man took his liberties with me, pulling apart my cheeks to gain access to my tight pink hole. My face was buried in his hairy chest, his hands all over my butt as I danced to the thumping techno.
He pushed his thick finger against my dry hole and burrowed the nail in. It felt so incredible to finally be broken into, to feel my anus--my true source of pleasure--opening. It felt like the beginning of an infinite orgasm, yet it was only his nail!!
While grinding, Clyde brought his hand up to my mouth and shoved two fingers in. I was surprised by his rough treatment because we'd only just met, but he really jammed them in there! Then he stayed deep while I forcibly wetted them, gagging me the whole time, wiggling his fingers. When he finally released I let out an embarrassed cough and looked to the floor.
I figured he was too high to realize how harsh he was being, but it was a little unnerving. I REALLY didn't want to lose my sexy dance partner though so I let it slide. And to be honest.... My dick was ridiculously hard after he gagged me.... Like, insanely erect.
I'd always liked it rough--you know, being manhandled, slapped around, that sort of thing. Nothing too intense, but enough to make me feel submissive and "owned". Unfortunately, most of the guys I'd fucked through the years were all talk but no action, so it was exciting to finally meet a true "Dom".
I covertly whipped my dick out and it was now pulsing and twitching in the air, blood surging. It was even leaking precum, a rare occurrence, and I could see the tip shining under the lights. I pumped it a few times and moaned. Damn.... I was so turned on.
But it somehow got even better when Clyde put his wet finger back on my hole. Then without warning, which I guess should've been expected, he jammed the whole thing in!
"Uh!" I squealed, loudly enough that a few guys turned.
