The Trouble with Bills

Trouble with the Bills

Paul looked at his phone, awaiting the text to see if he had been paid, he knew the answer it was another week away at least. Poor money management, not caring, if he was honest, and a very sociable festive holiday period meant his funds were depleted.

Unable to face up to the stress of not paying his bills this week his mind turned easily to sex, porn and masturbation. Having came more than a few times already - he worked away at his cock for half and hour and found it not working for him. That dragged him onto the need, wish, for someone else to touch his cock. Touch him, wank him, suck him. Then came dating apps, chasing girls, for another hour. In desperation and hunger he turned his eyes to the gay apps that kept filling his feed.

Easy enough to download - profile created - he found the chit chat happening fast. His aged, 25, attracted many men. Mostly older, he had to accept it was their words and the kink that they brought to him that aroused, not their bodies, and before too long his cock was hard. In deep chat, playing with himself, he shared his phone number with Mark. The age gap, twice his age exactly, put him off a little but it was the things he spoke about that had him hard. Never one to think on spanking, on being stripped, on pictures being taken, he found a submissive side to him that seemed to grow rapidly and immediately.

The phone call with Mark quickly escalated and, as he did not drive, he agreed to walk to a local woodland area that Mark knew, to be picked up. Mark kept Paul on the phone almost the whole drive there and the walk to the woodland. An hour of chat, off and on, meant that when Mark drove into the carpark - both men knew that Paul's cock was hard and dripping. Opening the door - Paul looked in - to see the grey bearded, dark haired, very overweight man sitting in the driver's seat. Paul - his unease sudden - was easily made to get in by the rather aggressive voice. Seatbelt on the car pull away - Mark in silence - Paul suddenly very worried.

"Undo your zip and pull out your cock!" A simple instruction, in a cold voice, Paul nervously obeyed. Mark, eyes mainly on the road, looked across from time to time to watch Paul's nervous, uncertain, movements to obey. Though obey he did and soon enough, as they pulled onto the main road out of town, Paul sat with his soft cock on display for a stranger in his car.

Mark then asked a series of questions as though it was an interview. No, he had not been with a guy. No, he had not been fucked by a guy. No, he had no been pissed on by a guy. No, he had not been chained or belted. Yes, he was scared - that one made Mark smile worryingly. Yes, he regretted getting in the car. Yes, he was sorry for wasting Mark's time. Yes, he really was sorry.

Saying sorry more than once did not stop Mark from gripping Paul's soft cock though - and the questions continued.

No, he did not want to be hurt. Yes, he would still blow him. Yes, he would swallow. No, he did not want fucked. No, he did not want forced. No, he did not want raped. Yes, he was sorry, very sorry, for wasting Mark's time.

Still the car drove further and further out of town. The fear in Paul was bad, his gut hurt, his tears were not far away. Yet - Mark's hand continually and steadily played with Paul's cock until eventually it was hard. Then - as though he had lost the battle and the pleasure had won Paul started to get close to cumming. The stranger Mark continued to wank knowing that Paul was getting closer and closer to cumming - forcibly pushing Paul to cum.

Mark laughed and explained the little game they would play. If Paul came with Mark's hand steadily wanking him a few things would happen. Paul would be fucked - call it rape if you want - but you would get driven back home. If Paul did not cum by Mark's hand, then he would be dropped off miles from anywhere. The wanking, gentle then hard, was quite effective, and Paul sobbing now knew that he would cum if Mark kept this up. He wanted it to stop and through tears begged Mark to let him out the car. Begged to walk home, begged to be free, but the spasms of orgasms came along soon enough.

Cum spilling over Mark's hand, and Paul's clothes, he knew he had lost the bet. Looking at Mark, several times his size, older and very much stronger Paul knew there was no way to fight Mark off and sobbing he accepted what was going to happen.

Licking his own cum from Mark's hand they pulled into a remote house. Engine off Mark turned to Paul and explained that he still had a chance of enjoying the day. If Paul was a 'good boy' then he would not get raped - but he would suck off Mark, then be driven home. Paul was bizarrely grateful and keen to ensure he did not get raped he obeyed the various commands from Mark.

Clothes off, in the car, he could put them back on when they got back in the car. Paul sat naked - as Mark took his clothes from him and threw them into the back of the car. 'Good boy', arrived just before Mark's tongue went into his mouth hungrily as though seeking his through. Teeth jarring against Paul's lips, it was a painful, aggressive kiss - if kiss was what you could call it. Spit then, Paul held his mouth open, as Mark spat several times into Paul's mouth. Swallowing the spit just before the tongue arrived again - this time making him gag, his lips bleeding where Mark's teeth were pushed too hard into Paul's mouth, he felt himself panic. Claustrophobia building, panic and sobbing. The kiss, better described as assault, stopped just as Paul realised he was going to wet himself. It was too late - some pee sneaked out from Pauls, now very soft, cock on to the leather chair.

Mark laughed, pleased with himself in some way, then had Paul clean his own piss with his t-shirt as he stood barefoot and naked on the dirt outside the car. Then, piss cleaned, car door locked Mark led the way into his house. Paul did not want to follow. Paul could not help the pleading before going across the door and, pathetically, he heard his own voice utter the pleading phrase, 'please don't hurt me'.

That got him a quick slap to his balls - leaving Paul on his knees, naked, just at the door. The nausea of the strike, the pain in his balls, quickly reaching his stomach. In the post-strike daze he found himself picked up by Paul - physically lifted - and carried into the house. If he was in any doubt about how strong Mark was and how easily he would beat or overpower him he was no longer. Placed by Mark, as though he had carried a small dog, on the couch.

Mark now in the comfort of his own home was quick to strip. Naked in his own room - again the size of Mark frightened and intimidated Paul. It was the size of his arms, the size of his gut, but more so the size of Mark's cock. Only semi-hard it easily stood out from Mark's gut enough for Paul to be scared of that cock. It was the first grown man's cock he had ever seen, and it immediately made him realise how small his own cock was.

As though Mark had a guest in, he then took Paul upstairs to the bathroom - showed him the shower. It was clear that he was to shower - Mark watched Paul soap himself and waited for him to finish. Then watched him dry himself - then, to Paul's surprise, Mark knelt in front of Paul and started to take his cock in his mouth. Paul had this happen with a few women, never a man and immediately felt himself get hard once more. Mark's aggressive sucking - different from any of the blow jobs he had received before. He quickly realised he was about to cum again. Mark, as though noticing the same thing, pushed a rather forceful finger into Paul's freshly washed anus. The shock, and the accompanying pain, made Paul go immediately soft with the panic of what was to happen building once again. He wanted to help Mark cum maybe then it would be over, and he could get a drive back to his town.

The finger though - insistent - large pushed further and further into Paul's bottom and he now knew he would not easily sit down again. The pain intense he tried not to show it, but the pain got the better of him and each time the finger pushed in deeper Paul squeaked in pathetic pain. Yet he stood there - with his cock in another man's mouth as he was forcibly finger fucked by a large finger.

As though some trigger had been passed the fingering and the blow job stopped, and Mark stood again. Paul, guided through to the bedroom, terrified of what was going to happen now started to sob even more and plead and say sorry. Mark laughed and, to Paul's mounting horror, brought out hand cuffs which he quickly secured Paul's wrists behind his back.

Then stepping back, Mark smiled, as he took in the full sight of Paul naked, cuffed, 25 years younger than him. Mark explained Paul had choices - his throat or his bottom - he was told by Mark that his bottom was tight, but it might work. Mark though also highlighted that his cock would go well into Paul's throat if it was to be his mouth. The choice, it seemed, was to be Paul's. What was to be fucked - his bottom or his mouth?

The pleading came easily from Paul but it did not stop Mark laying Paul face down on the bed. The painful fingering starting again - Paul lay sobbing into the bed.