This story is rated ⦃18+⦄for explicit sexual content and strong language. Please read the attached list of warnings before continuing on:
Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Kink Negotiation, Prenegotiated Scene, Good Communication, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Master/Slave Dynamics, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masochism, Sadism, Sadomasochism, Sex Club, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Gangbang, Group Sex, Sex with Strangers, Age Gap, (Light) Breath Play, Barebacking, Bareback, Anal Training, Anal Sex, Anal Gaping, Anal Creampies, Bukkake, Double Penetration, Spit Roasting, Deepthroating, Face Fucking, Oral Creampies, Facials, Gagging, Choking, Painplay, Rough Sex, Face Slapping, Hair Pulling, Ass Smacking, Nipple Play, Orgasm Control, Untouched Orgasms, Dry Orgasms, Multiple Orgasms, Wet & Messy, (Light) CBT, (Light) Cock and Ball Torture, Cock Stepping, Humiliation Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Degradation Kink, Verbal Degradation, Slut Shaming, Dirty Talking, (Consensual) Limit Pushing, Crossdressing, Objectification, Dacryphilia, Dumbification, Size Kink, Shameless Smut, Aftercare
All characters depicted in this story are over eighteen and have fully consented to everything that is happening.
🢖 TRAINED STRANGERS
M I C A H
It was finally the day, Micah had been jittery and excited all day, nervous but still excited. He'd woken up way too early, and spent two hours in his bathroom, going through absolute work to get ready as much as possible before Hanna got there to pick him up. By the time she'd shown up, he'd shaved almost every inch of his body, had only the most discreet parts of his makeup done, and was dressed in something that'd get him out of his house without his parents realizing what was happening. He'd packed himself an overnight bag and told his parents he'd be staying at Hanna's for the night.
That worked best because it wasn't like his parents would ever notice that he was getting home super late, even if he knocked over three houseplants and stubbed his toe on a piece of furniture he swore was usually three inches to the left. Even if he needed help in the house, they wouldn't wake up. He would know having snuck two guys into his room one night after going to the club. He'd changed first, just in case, but it wasn't like he really had much to explain to them if they asked.
So he, a dude, had other dudes coming over. That wouldn't really raise suspicion from his parents unless he was pinned against the wall amidst a heated makeout session when they found him. At that point, though, he just really shouldn't make out outside of his room and he'd be fine cause they wouldn't walk into his room.
After Hanna dropped him off four hours early for the event, Micah had spent two and a quarter hours filling out more paperwork, this time for a membership, and then another three-quarters of an hour viewing the very few rooms that were still open and weren't single-night only. Unfortunately, with the not-big boss, as Hanna had called him. He had been really surprised by the quality of the rooms, all of which were slightly different in style, theme, and even type of room. They varied from somewhat normal-looking bedrooms just really stocked with sex toys, to straight-up S/M dungeons that had Micah feeling excited in a bit of a different way.
They'd passed by Caelan's room, and Micah was hopelessly curious. Every room was so different, what could the owner's dungeon look like? Immediately, he wanted to be a nosey little bitch and peek inside. He was smart enough to hold himself back, though, even if he was hopelessly curious. He could only imagine that Caelan's dungeon or playroom would be something of a peek inside of the man's mind, really any playroom someone designed themselves could be...
Once he'd picked out a room, the other boss had taken out the key and unlocked it for him, giving him a short rundown of how the key would be copied and given to him when he came to the club for the first time so he needed to stop by the office. Cool, he really couldn't care less right now because he just wanted to get ready, but whatever. Then the guy had left him in his room to prepare for the event, alone.
Micah felt just a teensy bit bad. The guy absolutely had mentioned his name at some point when Micah arrived but honestly, he was so preoccupied with him not being Caelan that all he could hear was 'Not-Caelan' when he was introducing himself.
He'd been a little hyperfocused on Caelan since starting anal training under his order, and Micah had never once been so desperate in his entire life. The reminder that Caelan himself had directed him, combined with the knowledge that he was supposed to be a part of it... It felt a little like he was prepping himself for Caelan, even with the group setting behind it.
Like, obviously he wasn't preparing just for Caelan, but it kinda felt like he was preparing himself for Caelan and his friends. Which was enough to have him practically vibrating with excitement. Furthermore, the fact that he'd wanted this for so long was enough to have him more than just a little giddy and ready to strip nude and welcome them all to fawn all over him.
Micah took a moment alone to collect himself, looking up at the huge mirror on the wall, and taking in his reflection. He was nowhere near ready and needed to get started right away. With a final shaky breath, Micah peeled out of his clothes and grabbed his overnight bag, unzipping it and pulling out his makeup bag. He carried it to the bathroom, turning on the light, before looking into the mirror, fighting the urge to cover his eyes as the bright white lights blinded him for a moment. OH, there was a dimmer switch, and he'd turned them way too high.
But for makeup, that'd probably be perfect... Micah mentally noted, pulling out everything he'd bought to start working on something as sexy as he could possibly make himself look. He wanted mascara and eyeliner smeared all over his face when he was finished with this event. He wanted to be properly wrecked, to feel just as messy and slutty as he possibly could. For him, it really was a bit of everything.
He liked it rough, was a masochist, and loved to be humiliated and degraded. Honestly, he wanted to feel overpowered, small, and defenseless, like a toy that could be passed around at will. He loved the idea of it, the idea of being surrounded by men, being made to pleasure them, and was more than ready to finally get a little taste of what he wanted. The attention whore in him was shivering at the mere thought of so many eyes on him and so many hands grabbing at him. Wanting him.
Micah began working on his eyeshadow, picking something that'd bring out his hazel eyes: Brown and gold. He wanted every eye in the room to be trained on him the whole night, so he'd spent a whole three days going through different looks to see which one he wanted to settle on. He'd barricaded the door to his room just to be double safe and had tried on every outfit he could think of, done every makeup style he thought might look best, and tried out different hairstyles in his mirror. After a bit of help from Hanna, he'd picked all of the best ones.
He got a little lost in preparing himself, the feeling of the plug buried inside of him so familiar at this point that he was only aware of it in the sense that it was there, not that it was interfering. He was glad about that, the first few days had been hell. He'd been going to classes with them inside of him, shifting around in his seat restlessly as he fought the urge to cum all over himself from the pleasure of the toy pressing against his prostate.
He'd gotten used to shifting around into positions where the toy was less intrusive by this point, and he was a little addicted to it. He'd done it before but had a much less aroused response to it. Perhaps that was a mere matter of control; before he had learned to control himself, shifting around and feeling the toy press against his prostate had been maddening. All he'd wanted to do was grind against it until he came, which wasn't allowed in public or without permission either way. He had been going wild. This time, though, it gave him a different response.
His body had spent the first two days trying to convince him to rub against everything, that much was similar, but after that, it was a very drastic difference. He'd woken up the third morning, jittery and edgy, wanting to orgasm, and had been so ready for the toy to go inside of him that he'd orgasmed just from pushing it in and then had spent twenty minutes lying in a puddle of his own cum instead of getting to class, unable to think about anything but how full he was, the slight pressure of the toy on his prostate as he lay there, and the reasoning behind it being there and had felt as if he was floating on cloud nine.
After that, he'd been so ready for the next toys that he'd completely stopped even thinking about it. He didn't fight the urge to surrender to his orgasm every morning, sometimes rocking himself on the bed in an attempt to pleasure himself, while other times he'd just gone for it and fucked the toy into his hole, abusing his prostate until he repeated the first morning's process. He'd been so delightfully full and satiated for a week and a half that he hadn't even minded being subjected to an extra evening class.
He was so excited and ready for this. He could feel the adrenaline rush from just the mere knowledge it was about to happen, the same familiar rush of excitement and nervousness that he'd felt before his first scene after training as a submissive. He was more than ready to take it on and face it, more than ready to revel in the hectic mess of it all.
A knock sounded on the door to Micah's room, outside of the bathroom, and he peeked his head out of the door, blinking a couple of times. He was so not ready yet, he'd not even started on his hair yet. He guessed it really didn't matter too much, but he wanted this to be perfect, everything he'd spent so long fantasizing for it to be. It didn't matter, in that it'd all be messed up in a few minutes anyway, but it did matter for the sake of his fantasy remaining perfect and flawlessly executed.
"Hazel, it's Caelan," Caelan's voice called from outside of the door, "I know it's quite early, however--" Whatever Caelan was saying was lost on him because he let out a squeaking noise and practically darted out of the bathroom and around the bed, stumbling over his shoes as he raced to the door. Taking a brief moment to make himself look less hurried, Micah waited a second to open the door, before looking up into Caelan's eyes. And then down at his body.
Gods, demons, and everything in between, Caelan looked fucking delicious, but maybe that was the rose-colored glasses that Micah seemed to be wearing when it came to him talking. The tight leather shirt he wore clung to his skin in such a way that it let Micah make out every dip and line in his muscular abdomen, leaving his muscular arms and biceps completely bare and free to ogle at as he pleased. The similarly tight leather pants he was wearing clung to the outline of his cock in a way that had Micah just a little distracted, just a little absolutely salivating at the mouth. Micah swore he had a sixth sense, something in his brain just told him when a guy was packing.
