Sexual Politics

I wasn't looking for trouble. But it found me.

When I went into that bar, I was really only looking for a couple of beers and a quiet place to read a book, before going back to my motel.

But I had chosen the wrong bar.

I was on holiday in America. I'm not American. I'd been there for three weeks, first staying with friends.

I had had some good times. I'd been to a party where I'd got talking to a hot, smart girl with tattoos, and we'd made out, but it hadn't gone any further than that because she was being faithful to her boyfriend. Then, a couple of nights later, I had been in a bar and I'd been chatted up by a gorgeous guy, who took me back to his flat for sex.

I'm not telling those stories, because what happened to me at the bar was far more worth telling.

I'm twenty-eight, male and I'm bi.

I wouldn't say I'm a stud, exactly. I'm average height, slender and have short dark hair and very pale skin. I don't have a lot of muscle, but I've got stamina. I'm reasonably okay-looking, but everyone who's ever slept with me has said that my best features are my cock (which women have told me is a very good fit) and my ass (which both sexes have told me is a thing of beauty.)

That night, however, I wasn't looking for sex. Just some peace and a couple of beers and something to eat. I was dressed down, in trainers and black jeans and a blue t-shirt. It was a warm, wet night, south of the 36th parallel.

I sat in a booth and the waitress came over. She was about forty, warm and friendly. I ordered a beer and some fries. She went off.

I opened my book and began to read.

After a while I became aware of the conversation going on two booths away, between about six guys my age and older.

They were talking about the news they'd been watching, and how the liberals were wrecking America and had no concept of honour, and so on. One of them in particular was very aggrieved about this. He started ranting about 'the LGBTQ people' and how we were all... well, I won't tell you exactly what he said, but he was talking about people like me, and calling people like me criminals and a lot worse than that. One of the things I noticed was that he kept talking about 'buttfucking' and 'ass sex'; he couldn't get off the topic, as if it obsessed him.

I snuck a glance at the guys and noted that they were all tall, built like tanks, and half of them had lavish beards. Most of them were sagging a bit around the waist, but they still looked like they could crush me.

I went back to my book. If it weren't for their opinions, that was a body type in guys that actually gets me quite aroused. I like being tossed around in bed by guys who could snap me in half if they wanted to. Just as I'm attracted to women who are strong, not tiny fragile creatures.

I realised that the book I was reading wasn't the wisest choice around these guys. It was a dense book of queer theory, although you wouldn't necessarily know that from looking at it.

The waitress brought my beer. It was cold, which was the good thing about it. The fries were so-so. I picked at them. I could get something proper to eat later.

I casually sneaked glances at the other people in the bar.

They were mostly men, but there were a few women who appeared to be wives or girlfriends. Nobody seemed to be throwing annoyed glances at the Proud Boy wannabes in the corner.

At the bar, holding forth, was a big guy, about mid-fifties, with grey hair, a moustache and beard, deeply tanned and very muscular. He kept up a constant stream of banter with the waitress and other customers and any woman who passed by. He knew everyone and they all knew him.

I kept on reading.

After a while I had the odd feeling that I was being watched. I snuck another glance around the room and realised that the Big Guy had fallen silent, and was watching me from yards away. As soon as my glance intersected his, he didn't look away; he just kept watching, his expression unreadable beneath his beard.

I needed to piss. I got up, put my book into my bag and went to the Mens' room.

I was washing my hands after pissing when the door opened and the Big Guy came in.

'Howdy,' he rumbled.

'Hi,' I said.

'You're not from round here,' he said.

I dried my hands on the roller towel and turned to face him. I felt the slight hot flush I always get around much bigger, very masculine men.

'No,' I said.

'People from round here don't normally read books in bars,' he said with amusement.

'Well, I do.'

'Specially not books like that one,' he said.

I eyed him.

'It's a free country,' I said.

'Yeah, it is,' he said. 'Mighty free. But freedom has a price.'

'What's that, then.'

'The price we pay is that little foreign faggots like you come around and groom people,' he said.

'I'm not grooming anyone,' I said.

'That remains to be seen,' he said.

'I don't want any trouble,' I said.

'Can't always get what we want,' he said. 'I know you're a faggot. Admit it.'

'I'm queer,' I said, looking him in the eye.

'I know,' he said. 'I always know.'

He paused, and then he smiled.

'I could make you very happy,' he said.

That's when I realised that he wasn't about to beat the crap out of me.

At least... not in a malicious way. His gaze was roving up and down my body. He was drinking in the sight of me.

He wanted me.

'I bet you could,' I said.

'Thing is, though,' he said, 'I've got some pull around here. I can't have folks knowin' I'd fool around with a leftist soy boy like you.'

'You could meet me later,' I said.

'I've got things to do, later.'

'Then that's your problem.'

'I can make life for you in this bar very difficult,' he said, walking up to me and looming over me. 'But if you're prepared to take on a challenge, I can also make sure that you don't get hurt too bad.'

'What sort of challenge,' I said, dry-mouthed.

'Lot of folks in this bar,' he said. 'We'd sure like to see a little leftist faggot like you get what's comin' to him.'

I felt the sweat breaking out in my forehead.

'And what's coming to me?'

'You can play nice, and let us play with you,' he said, 'or you can not play nice, and then we could treat you real bad.'

So that was the choice: allow myself to be gang-fucked, or get beaten up.

I had never had group sex. But it had been a fantasy of mine. And now this stranger was saying that it was coming to me, or I could expect a brutal punishment.

I was trembling slightly.

'Why should I go along,' I said. 'Why should I trust you.'

He abruptly thrust his hand down the front of my jeans and inside my boxers, and grasped my cock, which was stiff. I gasped with shock.

'Because you want this,' he murmured. 'And if you say yes, I swear on my life, I'll make sure nobody hurts you where you don't wanna be hurt.'

I looked up at him. He knew me, horribly well. He'd never met me before, but he had scoped me out. I wasn't sure if I wanted the whole bar, but I wanted him. I wanted this man to occupy me.

I put my hands on his tight, muscled ass, covered by his worn jeans. He grinned.

'And how does this end,' I said.

'You let us treat you like our bitch,' he said, 'and after, I'll treat you like a goddamn queen. And then I'll drop you off wherever you want.'

I paused.

'There's not a man in this bar can make me cum,' I whispered.

'I can. I will.'

'I doubt it.'

'I'll make sure nobody harms you,' he said.

'We'll see,' I said, feeling suddenly annoyed and humiliated that he was trapping me into this.

But he simply chuckled, and let go of my cock and stood aside from the door.

I went back into the bar. I ordered another beer and sat down.

After a long moment, the Big Guy emerged from the Mens' room and walked slowly over to the gang of six guys, two booths down. He leaned over and spoke to them in a low voice. I felt them looking over at me.

I studiously ignored him as he went around the bar, talking to all the booths and tables. Two married couples got up and left hurriedly; I felt one of the women looking at me like I was some curiosity in a zoo. But there were some women who remained where they were.

I finished my beer, left money on the table and got up and headed for the door.

Quickly, the biggest and loudest of the six guys from the booth had got to the door and turned the latch. He turned to face me.

'Where are you going,' he said.

I turned and looked at the Big Guy. He had stood up and was watching with interest, from some distance away.

'I was just leaving,' I said.

'But you haven't tasted our hospitality,' he said.

He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. I stared at it. It was big.

'I don't know what you want,' I said, 'but I'm not giving it to you.'

'Then we'll take it,' said the guy I thought of as Proud Boy #1.

Someone behind me grabbed my arms by the wrists and pulled them up over and behind my head. Then my t-shirt was pulled up over my face until it was covering it except for my mouth. I gasped.

I was forced to the floor, on my knees. I knew what was coming.

Sure enough, #1 pushed his cock into my mouth. I closed my lips around it and drew on it. I made myself relax. I knew if I resisted, this could go worse for me.

At least his cock didn't smell or taste bad. I had heard of the way some of these groups used sex as a means of dominating others, and that was clearly what they had in mind for me.

He pushed his cock further in, and I gagged. I heard the voice of the Big Guy: 'Hey, let's not make him puke. If he does, you're cleanin' up.'

So he was at least partly willing to make good on his claim that he'd protect me. The guy with his cock in my mouth pulled it out a little. I was glad. I can give head, but it's not my favourite thing to do, and I'm not very good at it.

I resisted the temptation to bite down on it and instead closed my lips around it and let him fuck my mouth, my tongue licking him, my eyes shut (not that I could see anyway), and we got into a rhythm, me moving my head, he moving his hips, me steadily, methodically licking and sucking on him until he groaned, pulled out and the t-shirt was yanked off my head and arms, and he came in my face.

I gasped and spluttered. Then they were pulling off my trainers and socks and dragging down my jeans.

I blinked and looked around. The other bar patrons were casually watching, some more interested than others, as the six guys from the booth took it in turns to hold me in my kneeling position and then fuck my mouth. After another had done so, and I was blinking his cum out of my eyes, a third pushed his cock between my lips and then the others started jerking off, watching me and egging him on.

I knelt there, obedient, not struggling, making muffled moans as the guy mouth-fucked me, and then, in quick succession, the three guys jerking off all came over my face and head and the guy fucking my mouth came into it. I swallowed his cum desperately.

The other bar patrons were now cheering them on.

Then it got stepped up to a new level of humiliation.

The six guys surrounding me pushed me back onto my back on the bar floor, then stretched out my legs, and as I squirmed in their grip they pulled down my boxer shorts, stripping me naked before the other customers.

Now I was naked in a bar with a couple of dozen strangers, being used. One of them grabbed my boxers and wiped my face and head with it, then they pulled me to my feet.

'Oh god,' I gasped as they exposed my body to the whole bar. Nobody could be in any doubt about what was happening here.

'Who wants a go?' said #1 aloud.

A man came forward, with a much younger man, large and soft and red-faced.

'It's time my son broke his cherry,' said the older man. 'He was 18 last week. He's still a virgin. It's time he had a piece of ass.'

'Please,' I whimpered as they made me face the wall and place my hands on it. It was happening, it was really happening, I was about to be ass-fucked by a complete stranger, and I was naked and defenceless and could do nothing to stop it. I shivered with fear and something like excitement.

I turned and looked over my bare shoulder at the young man, who towered over me. He was looking down at my naked behind, probably to take his mind off the fact that it was a man that he was about to fuck.

'Get you ready,' said one of the six, and I felt lube being smeared liberally between my buttocks.

'Go in nice and gentle, Austen,' said the Big Guy. 'Take that cunt. Treat her nice.'

'Auuunhh,' I whimpered as I felt Austen's cock tip pushing between my buttocks. I have a deep cleft, and sometimes guys with small cocks can't reach deep enough to get inside me.

But I was unlucky; Austen's cock was long and narrow, and he slowly pushed at my anus while I clenched my face and whimpered, and then he penetrated me and he was inside my ass, losing his virginity. And I was his substitute for a girl: a random young tourist who had been trapped and stripped and offered up for his pleasure.

Austen must have been wanting to have sex for a long time, because in less than a minute of rapid and increasingly enthusiastic pumping, which I accompanied with high-pitched whimpers, he was coming inside me. God, it was arousing to be used like this by complete strangers. I shut out the sensible part of my brain that told me that this was insane, what about diseases, what about the risk that this could get completely out of control. I thought: If I just let them fuck me, then they'll enjoy it.

The truth is that I love being fucked in my ass, and the piercing humiliation of being stripped naked in public and fucked in front of a group of strangers was making me aroused. My own cock was sticking out ahead of me, stiff, and everyone could see it.

Austen pulled out of me, and I felt his cum dripping out of me. 'Creampie!' someone shouted, and there were cheers.

They pulled me away from the wall, and I staggered on weak knees. I was turned around and bent face forward over a table that was sticky from beer, and a pair of hands grabbed my hips.

I felt another man slowly, rather expertly working his cock inside me. I gasped.

The table was cold and hard beneath my belly and chest, but his cock inside me gave me a feeling of being filled up, occupied by him. I knew his entire attention was on fucking my ass and I closed my eyes and whimpered.

There was something almost joyful about surrendering to it. It was degrading and humiliating and I knew that they had only contempt for me letting them use me like this, but I also knew that they wanted me, or they wouldn't be doing it to me.

I felt the table shake, and then a pair of thighs clamped around my head and my face was pushed deep into a woman's hairy pussy. I could feel her skirt hitched up around her waist. I gave in to it and tongued her eagerly. She grunted 'Aw, fuck, yes!'

'Hey, Ashley,' said a man, 'is that faggot giving you head?'

'Yeah,' she gasped, 'and he's better'n you at it.'

The man fucking me drove hard into me, as if he were angry with me. It stung, and I whimpered.

'Hey,' said the Big Guy's voice, 'let's have a good time, now.'

'Oh, I'm havin' one,' said Ashley, grinding my face into her pussy.

'We can all have a taste,' said the Big Guy. 'Let's not wear the boy out.'

'You gonna do it too?' said another man, sounding surprised.

'Reckon there's a first time for everything,' said the Big Guy jovially.

My wrists were being held behind my back. I felt the guy inside my ass pumping his seed into me, then he pulled out, and then yet another cock was pushing into my now loosened-up anus. I made muffled whimpers which had the effect of pushing Ashley over the edge, and she came, her pussy growing moist. She rubbed my face into her juices and then backed away and the table shifted as she got off.

I moaned as the guy behind me came inside me, then I was rolled onto my back and my legs were splayed out, and as I blinked, I saw another woman, naked from the waist down but from the waist up wearing a plaid shirt over a white t-shirt, kneeling astride me and then descending so that she was sitting on my face.

Her buttocks pressed my eyes shut and I made muffled moans, and tongued her. Then I felt yet another man pushing his cock into my anus and sliding inside me.

Half an hour earlier, I had been a neat, clean, anonymous tourist, sipping a beer. Now I was naked and on my back on a barroom table, a woman sitting on my face and a man buggering me, neither of whom I knew and neither of whom had asked for my permission, my exposed cock flailing uselessly against my belly.

Except... hadn't I given it in the Mens' room, earlier still, to the Big Guy? Hadn't I consented to this happening to me? Was it really consent if I only did it to avoid getting beaten up?

I didn't know. All I knew was the sensation of the woman's ass on my eyes and nose and her pussy on my mouth, the hard tabletop beneath me, and the man tunnelling into my ass, and the arms holding me down as they took me.

I went into a state in which I could hardly keep track of who was doing what to me. I had the sensation of a lot of cocks, one after the other, taking my ass. My face was free once more but then another cock was pushing at my mouth.

Periodically they grabbed me and held me up and poured beer into me, but for the most part I was an increasingly limp, sweaty, dirty, naked young man, being passed around the bar like a sex toy.

Not many groups of complete strangers have come to know one young man's body like the people in that bar got to know mine.

They saw me taken, stripped, and fucked, and they took their turns with me. They got to know my asshole and my mouth and my sweat, and my chest and my cock and my arms and legs, and my face, and my hips, and my moans and my squeals. They knew me, on every level. As the old-fashioned saying says: they had their way with me. I don't know if every one of them fucked me, but it felt like it. And those that didn't, got to watch.

I think they fucked me for a good two hours. By the end of it I was aching, tired and bruised from the tables and furniture I'd been flung over and fucked upon. I had been pummelled and pierced and penetrated and I had nothing more to give them, except myself.

I was hauled to my feet and held upright, and the Big Guy approached me.

'Well, faggot,' he said, 'you've been a good little bitch. You may be dumb as shit, but you've been most hospitable with that cute little ass of yours, and your mouth hasn't done too bad neither.'

I just hung there, breathing heavily. I was tingling all over. I had never felt so utterly sexual in my life. But I had nothing to say to any of them, and nothing left to give any of them.

Except him.

'But we need to return the favour,' he said. 'We need to make you cum, to show you who's boss.'

'Oh god,' I whimpered.

'Yes,' said the Big Guy, twinkling. 'Prepare to meet your god.'

He stepped up to me and kissed me, holding my face in his huge hands. His tongue entered my mouth.

There was silence in the bar. I sensed that they didn't often see him do things like this. My stiff cock bounced against his be-jeaned crotch.

Then he pulled away.

'Put him down like a dog,' he said.

They pushed me to the floor and I got on all fours. The Big Guy eased himself down onto his knees. I braced myself for what was coming.

Then #1 knelt before my head, and I moaned 'Oh no...' and shook my head in protest.

It was no good. #1 held my head still and pushed his cock into my mouth, and the Big Guy slowly worked his cock inside me until he was filling me up.

Oh god, it felt so good having him inside me. His cock in my ass was warm and full and everything that I needed. And he was good at it. Much too good at it. He'd done this before.

My face was pushed into #1's belly and I couldn't see. I flailed ineffectually with one hand as they spit-roasted me, but the Big Guy's thick cock was doing its work inside my ass and I was shaking and whimpering, totally lost, within only seconds, giving in to it like the horny little bitch that I was, squirming naked between them, offering up my mouth and ass to these two bigger, stronger men.