I was never truly certain what Cole did for a living, although on one occasion he told me that his company had instructed him that he had to entertain a group of visiting VIPs who were in town and looking for a fun time.
"This is very important," Cole explained to me. "If I screw this up, it could mean my career. These guys are assholes, but they're influential and ridiculously wealthy. One of these guys just spent three million dollars at auction to buy a painting. If I make these guys unhappy, my boss will have a heart attack."
From what I understood, the men Cole was talking about were musicians with no real talent, but they were good looking and aggressively marketed and had become remarkably popular; so popular that they made money faster than they could spend it.
"I've been tasked with keeping them happy," Cole explained. "And it turns out, one of the things that makes them happy is spanking twinks with firm, tight little bodies and relentlessly fucking them."
"Oh, I think I see where this is going," I said, realization dawn on me.
"You're a twink with a firm, tight body," Cole said as he nodded at my comment. "And you already work for me in the capacity of a sex object. It's only logical that I use you to make them happy."
"Is this going to hurt?" I asked.
Cole raised his eyebrows at me and said, "Well, yes, but not any worse than when I put you over my knee. You'll be fine. You must be used to this sort of thing by now."
Truth be told, I got a bizarre sort of thrill out of being spanked and sexually objectified, but I didn't like to admit to that out loud. It made me feel better about myself if I acted as if I had to be forced into this sort of thing against my will.
"You have to do this, Stephen," Cole's wife interjected. "We're able to afford a live-in slave because Cole and I have good-paying jobs. It's in your best interests to make sure Cole doesn't get fired."
Of course, I ended up allowing the visiting VIPs to objectify and abuse me. I was even looking forward to it, although I refused to admit that to anybody. They were staying at the Ritz Carlton for three days. Cole was to take me out there Friday night to entertain them and depending on how things went, I'd make one or two return visits.
Cole drove me out there and walked me into the hotel lobby. On the elevator ride up, Cole explained that there were some legal formalities that we would have to observe before meeting with them.
"What sort of legal formalities?" I asked.
"Well, when dealing with celebrities like this, you have to be discrete. Their attorney will be there. She'll explain everything."
They VIPs were staying in the presidential suite and had multiple rooms under their name. Cole unlocked the door to their rooms with his key card and escorted me inside. The room I entered was spacious and I noticed two people inside. One was male, the other female. They were both well-groomed and impeccably tailored.
"Jonathan, Lynda," Cole said as he cheerfully greeted the dapper duo. "This is Stephen, the boy I told you about."
Jonathan raised one eyebrow at me and closed the distance between us. He scrutinized me for a few moments and said, "He has an extremely cute face. I think he'll be acceptable. Of course, I'll have to see him with his clothes off before I introduce him to the band."
"Of course," Cole agreed.
Nobody asked me if I wanted to take my clothes off and let Jonathan examine my naked body. I had just arrived and already people were treating me like a slave. Two well-dressed mem and one well-dressed woman turned their gazes to me and waited for me to undress.
Jonathan had an impatient look in his eyes, almost as if he expected me to be naked before I entered the hotel room.
I took off my shoes and socks first and proceeded from there. My blue jeans and briefs were the last to go and when I removed my last piece of clothing, my cock was semi-hard.
"I think he looks adorable," Cole said, "What do you think, Jonathan?"
Jonathan was less impressed with my naked body. He admitted that I had a fine physique, however, he wanted to do a more thorough examination.
It turned out that a thorough examination involved a lot of things. For starters, he examined the inside of my mouth, checking my teeth or looking for canker sores or something.
Next, he felt me up all over, squeezing my buttocks, my thighs, my calves, my obliques and so on. Apparently, Jonathan felt that before I could be sexually abused by rich musicians, it was important to check the firmness of my muscles. Then he took off his blazer, rolled up his sleeves and snapped on a latex glove. After that, he got out a jar of lubricant and told me to bend over the back of the couch.
"If you go in there, your ass is going to get used a lot," Jonathan explained, "I need to check for hemorrhoids, abscesses and other problems that might interfere with anal play. Also, you're going to be well lubricated before they go to town on you."
I obediently bent over, and I felt my face flush hot with embarrassment. Being anally penetrated was extremely intimate and private. Having a total stranger discussing the use of my anus so casually was mortifying.
Then Jonathan stood behind me and told me to spread my legs farther apart. He had Cole pull my buttocks apart and then he smeared my anus with something cold and greasy before slipping a finger deep into my ass. I gasped as I felt fingers violating my rectum and twisting around inside of me. And once my anus was oiled, I was told to stand up. Then my balls and cock were both coated with oil until they were glistening.
Lynda watched poker-faced as I stripped naked, and Jonathan impaled my virginal anus on his fingers. She seemed utterly casual and calm about the whole bizarre spectacle I was being forced to endure. It was as if she saw this sort of thing every day. That wasn't possible, was it? I mean, who had a job where they saw naked men get bent over and anally probed every day?
"He's perfect," Jonathan announced with my erect cock still firmly in his grip and about ready to burst. Now, he just needs to sign an NDA and he can go right on in."
