Part 1 of 5
Casper was in a coffee house looking through the personal ads. It was as unusual an ad as he had ever read. Not unusual for what it said, but for what it did not say. It was mysterious and intriguing, especially because he needed a job.
“WANTED: HEALTHY, CLEAN-CUT, GOOD-LOOKING YOUNG MAN, 20 TO 25 YEARS OLD, TO WORK IN AN EXCLUSIVE MEN’S CLUB IN LONDON. NO SPECIAL TALENT OR ABILITIES NEEDED. REQUIRES LONG EVENING HOURS, BUT THE PAY IS GOOD, 2,000 POUNDS PER MONTH.”
And the ad listed a phone number to call. Casper was an American from the mid-west, but he was living in London because his last job moved him there one year ago. Last month, his company went belly up, so he was far from home, out of work, and out of money. He did not understand the ad, but £2,000; he knew it was about $3,400 in US dollars … a month! What was this all about, he wondered? Was the position for a bartender, manager, or sound system guy? But all those positions required specific abilities, and this job did not. He was perplexed as he left the café, carrying the tabloid with him.
As he walked the several blocks to his flat, he continued to dwell on the idea of calling the number. Long hours didn’t bother him; he was really a night owl in any case. He concluded that it could not hurt to get more detailed info. And so, as he sat at his small desk, he picked up the phone and dialed the number.
After two rings, the call was answered. “Hello,” said a deep masculine voice. “Greys, can I help you?” Casper told him he was responding to the ad in the Daily Mirror. “Yes, of course,” the voice interrupted. “What's your name, and how old are you?" Casper responded with his name and added that he was 23 years old.
"Well, look, Casper, I want to be upfront with you. This is not a typical job, not in hours, and not in your duties. We are a private club for men; some are straight, some bi, and some gay.” That was the first lie he just told Casper. Even though some straight men might go in there out of curiosity, it was a well-established gay men’s club. But he had wanted to hear Casper’s response to “gay men” and asked him how he felt about gays in general.
“That's a bit personal, mister ... ah … sorry, what is your name?” asked Casper. The man on the other end said his name was Paul. “Well, Paul, the world is diverse. I’m old enough to know that. I have no negative issues with anyone’s sexual orientation, race, or what have you. I assure you I have always worked with all types of people, and basically, I enjoy diversity. One of my former co-workers is gay, and we go out and have a beer occasionally. So I’m cool with that.” Casper said sincerely, though he was not speaking about anything sexual.
“Do you have any fetishes, Casper?" Paul asked and quickly noticed he was more hesitant in responding.
"I'm sorry to be so blunt, Casper, but, unfortunately, I need some basic information about your fetish likes. I really can't explain why, not over the phone anyway. But if you are interested in a high-paying job, I must ask you to bear with me. We can stop here if you're unwilling to answer my questions."
"OK!" said Casper, desperate not to burn any bridges to income. "Yes, I do have fetishes; I am rather keen on ... on ... well … I like leather.
I like to wear, feel, and even smell it.” He felt embarrassed to have just blurted that out, feeling silly. "There's no need to be embarrassed, Casper,” said Paul. "There’s really no shame in admitting you are fond of leather, bondage, spanking, or whatever makes you horny for sex!" Casper was surprised his mentioning of liking “leather” somehow brought up the subject of bondage, spanking, and sex. He was about to object, but his thoughts were interrupted by Paul.
"If you're willing, I think it may be worth your while coming to see me for a better chat, where I can be more open with you. Also, we are cautious about our members’ health. No one is allowed to work here if he has any health issues. Also, make sure you are thoroughly cleaned, inside and out. We have a doctor who will examine you.” Casper asked what “inside and out” meant. “It means to clean out your ass, too; give yourself a couple of enemas in case the doctor wants to examine your colon.” Casper thought that was unusual, but whatever … he’d do anything to secure a $3,400 monthly income. He thought it was odd, but so was this job offer. “What about a week from Friday evening, say about 8 o'clock?" Paul asked.
As strange as this all seemed, he felt it was wise to do whatever was required to get all the detailed information, so he could decide to accept or reject the job offer. $3,400 a month should not be turned down without a good reason. "Er … yes … OK, that's fine. At least we can talk. I am an outstanding worker. Say, is it possible to come earlier in the day?" replied Casper.
"I'm afraid not, Casper. You see, I need to catch up on my sleep during the day; the club keeps rather irregular hours. OK, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Now, I will give you our doctor’s phone number, which you can call to have a physical before your arrival. So please make those arrangements ASAP. The doctor will forward the results to me. And there is no cost to you for the exam. I'm sure all will be well." Paul said and then gave him the doctor's phone number and also the address to the home where he would meet Paul. With that, he hung up, and Casper was left with no more understanding of the mystery “job” than when he had first read the ad. Still, he was intrigued. Paul had asked some pretty strange questions, and his comments about the club only made Casper more curious.
The week passed quickly. Casper was very restless in anticipation of the interview, and as the days drew on, he became more and more anxious. At last, the day arrived. Since he had heard nothing about the results of his medical exam, he assumed all the results were satisfactory. At last, it was finally time to get ready to leave. Remembering the curious question about fetishes, Casper decided to take his motorcycle, which normally he would not drive at night, but doing so would give him an excuse to wear leather from head to toe. This included his black leather bikini briefs and singlet under his leather pants and jacket. He finished off the outfit with his heavy boots, gloves, and helmet. He assumed that Paul liked leather since he mentioned fetishes and that dressing this way would land him the job.
As he raced through the night, Casper's anticipation mounted. “Ah, there's the address,” he said to himself. His destination was a large house in the center of London. Casper pulled into the drive, dismounted, and removed his helmet as he approached the front door. Taking a deep breath, he rang the bell and waited. Within a minute, the door was answered. Casper couldn't believe his eyes. Standing before him was a gorgeous hunk of a man, much younger than he had imagined from his voice.
He introduced himself as Paul, who Casper assumed was only a few years older than him, maybe 26 or 27. "Well, good evening,” said Paul as he motioned for him to come in. "I'm glad that you dressed for the occasion, Casper. Let me take your helmet?" Casper handed his helmet to Paul, together with his gloves. "No, you hang on to your gloves, Casper; you may need them.”
Paul led the way into a large room at the back of the house and pointed Casper towards a seat near a roaring fire. Casper was beginning to regret wearing all leather; this room was much too hot for his comfort. Casper unzipped his heavy leather jacket exposing the leather singlet underneath. "No, don't do that, Casper. Leave it zipped up, please.” Paul reached over, put his hand on Casper's, slowly drew the zipper up to the top, and even fastened the jacket’s collar strap at his neck.
"There, that's cozier," commented Paul as he handed Casper a gin and tonic. "Now, to business," said Paul, taking the chair opposite of him. Casper sipped his drink in amazement. Sitting in front of a very warm fire, all fully dressed in leather and zipped and buttoned up tightly, was weird.
"Greys,” Paul finally explained, "Is the name of our exclusive and private men’s club. It gets its name from the standard color code. When someone displays a Grey hanky, it means they are into certain erotic fetishes. Some members are into leather, rubber, or vinyl; some are even into bondage. So Greys allows and encourages all these fetishes. The club aims to provide its members with a suitable environment to enjoy their fetish interests. We aim to provide a visually stimulating atmosphere." This was the second lie he told Casper. The color Greys is for bondage “enthusiasts,” simple and precise. Yes, leather and rubber fetishes can fit nicely into the realm of bondage, but bondage is the main interest. So Paul was trying to avoid the blunt identity of Greys as an established gay bondage club.
Paul went on, "The way we achieve this is better shown than explained. Take a look in that folder.” Casper reached over to the coffee table and picked up a photographic album. Inside were photographs of scenes from Greys. They showed a palatial and sumptuous room where various men of all ages were seated. The only common thing about the men was that they were all dressed in leather or rubber. On closer inspection, the photographs revealed a more curious sight to Casper. There were many life-size artistic statues around the room. At first, they looked like part of the ornate decor, but on squinting inspection, Casper saw they were artworks of men in bondage. Then he turned a few pages and saw these figures close up, with each figure enlarged in an 8 by 10 photograph. He went from squinting to bug-eyed. They were not statues but actual men in various stages and forms of bondage.
The photos showed bondage scenes. In one was what appeared to be an inflated rubber sack which was only vaguely man-shaped. From the head region came a single rubber tube which was obviously used for breathing. The next photo showed a man with bits of bronzed skin peeking between layers of wide rubber strapping. His head was encased in a rubber hood; outside of it was a tight gag with a rubber tube ending in a bulb. Casper did not have a clue about any of this fetish gear. For example, he didn’t know that the rubber bulb was used to inflate an internal gag.
In another photo was a muscular form encased in black shining leather, spread-eagled against a wall and securely strapped in place. The man's cock was exposed, and from which weights had been suspended. A more close-up photo of the same man’s face showed he had some sort of an O-ring gag holding his mouth open. The rest of his face was visible. If Casper had understood more fully what he was looking at, he would have noticed the saliva dripping from the man’s forced-open mouth and realized that the man had been in that position for some time.
In other photos, he saw other muscular forms bound in anything from ropes to leather to chains. The men were secured against a wall, in a chair, or just left tightly bundled on the richly carpeted floor of the room. Casper felt light-headed from the heat and from looking at the erotic photographs, causing sensations that stirred his dick. The heat, sweat, and various images combined to confuse him.
"Well, Casper?” asked Paul. Casper pulled his eyes from the photographs with some effort. "What do you think about the men in those photographs? Do they seem dedicated to their fetish ‘ar?’ They spend hours bound and gagged in many different ways. Our main aim is the clients' satisfaction; some want to be bound, and some want to bind others. It’s all the same fetish. Fantasies are enacted in Greys for our clients with the help of what we call el usado.” Casper look puzzled, “eyousaido?” Paul corrected him, “el usado.” It’s a fancy word for a helper. The plural would be “los usados” for the helpers. The word ‘helper’ seems a little demeaning, so we use the Spanish word for it.” Paul lied again. “El usado” did not mean “the helper” it meant “the used one.” Paul continued, “So, here you would be el usado. The clients can decide how they want to be secured for the night or leave that decision to another client with a particular interest. Los usados are needed to assist our clients. You would be a much-appreciated helper.”
"I've never seen anything like it in my life,” gulped Casper. "I didn't realize that there were people so heavily into these kinds of … of … fetishes and bondage is a little creepy, but … I do not have any experience tying someone up. Are you sure you want me?”
Paul picked up on Casper’s misunderstanding that the clients were the only ones in bondage and los usados were the ones who tied them up. But he wanted to allow Casper to believe that for the time being. In fact, at Greys, some clients tied up other clients, and some clients tied up los usados. Los usados never tied up anyone; they were always the victims. The kind of elaborate bondage practiced at Greys took expert knowledge; no off-the-street young man could safely do it. But, for now, it served Paul’s mission well to let Casper think he would be hired to tie people up. "What you see there is only a small sample,” Paul explained, referring to the photographs. "Do you think helping us at Greys would suit you, Casper?"
"I don't know. I am excited by … I mean … interested in … er… curious about what I see. I do like leather. And … I do need the income. I mean £2,000 would be great. I don't suppose it would be that difficult to learn how to do this. I am a quick learner.” Casper was sweating from the heat created by his full leather outfit. “Ah … Paul, do you think you could turn off the fire, or maybe I could take off my jack …?”
Paul cut him off. He knew Casper was hot and maybe a bit dizzy, but that would work in his favor. A knowing smile crossed Paul's lips, and he asked, "how about trying it out then? If you like, I can provide you with a demonstration so you’d know exactly how this all goes. You need to learn from the bottom up. In fact, I’ll do you a favor and tie you up just a little bit, so you know how a bound client might feel."
Casper's mind raced. He had never been bound by anyone in his whole life. Interestingly, his last job was as a creative designer of graphic arts, like business ad campaigns, book covers, and signage in general. He thought that his being a creative person would go a long way to help him be creative in “designing” bondage for Paul’s clients. He thought he could pick it up quickly but was torn between apprehension, curiosity, and the desperate need for a paycheck.
Paul saw the look of conflict and indecision on Casper’s handsome, 23-year-old face. “Look, Casper, we have introduced this fetish to hundreds of young men over the decades since we have operated Greys. We don’t need to start with elaborate bondage; it needn't be anything like what you saw in the photos. I will choose something fairly mild, just to start your learning experience.”
"Well... okay then,” said Casper. "What do I have to do? Can I remove my jacket first? This fire is so …”
“Casper, just put yourself in my hands, and you will be quite safe,” said Paul. "Come with me. We may as well get started.” Casper stood up and followed Paul out of the room and down the hall. His body was soaked in perspiration, and his leather clothes stuck to it, making it quite difficult to move quickly. Paul led the way to a door near the back of the house, and as Paul opened it, Casper could see stairs leading down. "I have a miniature club room set up in the basement so that quick little training experiences can be carried out in quiet privacy,” said Paul over his shoulder.
The basement was plainly decorated. There was a simple but sturdy wooden high-back chair, a small sofa called a love seat, and a counter along one wall with many cupboards above it. Paul walked over to one cupboard and opened it. Inside, Casper could see many items of leather and rubber. He was too far away to make out any specific items. Paul rummaged in the cupboard and returned to where Casper was with an armful of leather straps. He dumped the load onto a sofa next to where Casper was standing.
"Put your gloves on," said Paul. Casper only then remembered that he was still carrying his gloves and slowly pulled them on. "Now stand up, turn around, and put your hands behind your back.” Casper did as he was told, and Paul picked up a leather strap, wrapped it around Casper's gloved wrists, and fastened the buckle. Casper's stomach was churning with anticipation and apprehension. As if Paul sensed this, he said, "Don't worry, Casper. You're quite safe!”
The churning continued, but Casper slowly succumbed to Paul's sense of calm and safety. "OK, now sit on the couch,” said Paul, as he placed a hand on Casper's shoulder, helping him sit. Paul picked up another strap and wrapped this around Casper's booted ankles. Casper's apprehension grew as he realized that he was at the mercy of this strange, attractive young man. He tugged at his bonds but found them unyielding. Paul was now securing a leather strap around Casper's upper calves, just below the kneecap. This was pulled tight and buckled in place. Next, a similar strap was applied above the knees.
"Ups a daisy!" said Paul as he pulled Casper to his feet. The sensation was strange to Casper; his legs were now totally secured and were unable to respond to his directions. Casper staggered while trying to flex his leg muscles and was steadied by Paul. "Oops, are you okay?” asked Paul.
"Yes, I suppose so, although I feel a little strange,” replied Casper. “Maybe we should stop, and …”
"That's only to be expected,” assured Paul. “Don’t you want to go on with this? We can stop if you really want to; I have several more men anxious to get this job. So it doesn’t matter to me."
Knowing Paul would untie him at this point, and let him go home, reassured Casper that Paul was reasonable and not demanding or pushy. Paul’s expressed concern implied his safety. Then, there was the $3,400 monthly salary. He felt okay enough to go forward. "No, that's okay, Paul. I've come this far. I might as well see it through," Casper replied.
The Dark Side of Greys
Part 2 of 5
"You do whatever you would normally do, Paul. I need to know how to tie up your clients, and as you say, this is the best way to learn," replied Casper. It still never dawned on Casper that he was to be the victim who was to be in bondage - not the one doing the tying.
"Right then," said Paul as he bent down to pick up the final item from the couch. It turned out to be a full-cover hood made of heavy black rubber. The inside of the hood had a built-in structure that fitted into his mouth, sort of like a gag. That apparatus held the stub ends of two black rubber hoses; one end was connected to the gag, and the other had a cone shape that fits over his nose. The two tubes protruded about a foot out and could be easily attached to whatever Paul wanted. Casper could still make sounds, but they were reduced to mumbles. There were tie strings at the back, together with a zipper.
"Open up, Casper," said Paul as he stood behind him, lowering the hood over Casper’s head. He lined up the mouth gag into Casper’s mouth and then proceeded to pull the rubber hood fully over the boy’s head, almost like a second skin. It was snug. Casper looked up just in time to see the hood engulf his head and a large wedge gag forced between his teeth. The hood was tightened in place; Casper was left gasping and mumbling through the gag. He felt the zipper pulled down and a neck strap tightened. He was in total darkness; all he could hear was his breathing inside the heavy leather hood. He felt a sudden panic and attempted to struggle with his bonds. Then Paul further secured the hood with a leather collar around his neck. Suddenly Paul's voice came through the hood, "unless you are having breathing difficulties, Casper, you should save your energy. At this point, if you want to be released, this test will be terminated, and you can forget about being hired. So please calm down. If you have trouble breathing, just nod your head three times." Casper calmed down and nodded.
"That's better," came Paul's voice once more. "I am going to lay you on the makeshift bed now, Casper, so don't worry when you are moved,” Casper grunted through the gag as he was lifted once more and placed on the orange latex-covered bed. The room was quiet, and Casper lay there, not knowing what would happen next. Suddenly he heard voices, many voices. He was concerned and started to struggle futilely.
Then he felt hands on his body, tugging at the straps, stroking his rubber-covered head. He felt caressing hands at his groin, and he was lifted slightly while hands kneaded his firm buttocks through the leather suit. Casper felt as if he would explode. His body was tingling with pleasure. His trapped cock was crying for relief. All he could do was moan through the gag and endure the never-ending caressing.
Then, the purpose of the two tubes protruding from his head becomes more apparent. His air supply was quickly cut off. Someone, or maybe two men, each placed his thumb over the tube openings. He started to panic. But just as quickly, his air supply returned. He was scared. These men, with just one finger, could easily suffocate him. But why? Why were they doing this? He wondered, is fear? Several more times, his air was cut off, and he immediately went into a state of panic. THEN … it became clear. They were not threatening to kill him but demonstrating that they had life-and-death power over him. He felt free and more at ease once he understood and accepted his dependence on them. He could stop trying to make decisions and just fucking surrender.
Someone asked Paul if the new “el usado” had a cleaned-out ass. “He was told to do that, and I am sure he did a good job.”
Then all the touching stopped as suddenly as it had started. Again the room grew quiet as the voices receded, and Casper felt as if he was alone in the room. He tried to shout to someone for release, but all he could manage was a muffled grunt through his mouth tube. He lay there for an eternity. He lost track of time completely as his body subsided from the high erotic level where it had been taken. Casper dozed. He was roused by the return of some commotion. Again, he attempted to attract attention, but to no avail.
His mouth and face were wet inside the hood, with saliva from his gagged mouth and sweat from the tight rubber hood. He could feel trickles of moisture running down his face, and other parts of his body were sweating profusely. Casper again felt hands manipulating his body, lifting and kneading him everywhere. He suddenly heard a faint buzzing sound. He tilted his head to hear better and then felt a touch at his groin. He felt something strapped around his waist, followed by more manipulations as another strap passed between his tightly bound legs. The buzz increased in volume and pitch.
As the sound increased, Casper began to feel a strange sensation below. His cock responded to the vibrations, which had now reached a new pitch. His breathing became heavier as the vibrations spread through his lower body. He strained against his bonds and pitched his body to shake loose the fiendish device wracking his body with its titillating, vibrating touch. He grunted and groaned through his gag, but his thrashing body could not stop the vibrations.
As the pulsations grew more intense, Casper could think of nothing but the tremors flowing through his body. As the vibration and accompanying pitch increased ever higher, Casper could no longer contain himself. With a mighty burst, his pent-up, tortured dick uncontrollably released its load in a violent orgasmic explosion. Casper's body became rigid as the waves of pleasure and pain shot through his body. Although he had just climaxed and wanted to calm down and relax in the afterglow, as usually happened, the vibrations continued nonstop. He had no way to stop them. He was not in control. As the climax of the first orgasm receded, another was mounting.
Casper's body was shaking, and his breathing was coming in, rasping gasps in and out of the tube. Again, his body began to tense as the orgasm mounted to an explosive point. As his straining cock shot its load for the second time, Casper's body collapsed in total relaxation. But Casper was now out of this world; his body no longer seemed to belong to him. He could only stay submerged in the depths of his bonds and await his fate. His mind was blurred as he was fighting against dizziness. He tried to will the vibrations to stop, but they continued. Was it possible to die of pleasure, he wondered?
The vibrations ceased, and Casper's mind and body were finally embraced by calmness. He was soaked in sweat. The leather underwear and suit, clinging to his skin, had absorbed most of the moisture and was binding itself to his body. The device was unstrapped and removed from his groin, and his gasping breaths subsided into a normal - though cautious - rhythm. His jaw ached for release from the cruel gag which locked him away from the world of communication.
As he began to relax and consider his predicament and possible fate, he felt strong hands lifting his mummy-like body again. He felt himself being placed on his still-bound feet and needed to be held up and balanced, which several pairs of hands did.
Then the straps on his legs were being removed. First, his thighs, then the knees, and finally, his ankle straps were all removed. His mind smiled as he contemplated release. He became eager and mumbled for them to hurry with removing all the straps. They could not understand, of course, but in any case, they had their own ideas - this was still a test.
Casper suddenly felt his heavy motorcycle boots being unlaced and unbuckled. His feet were lifted, and, one at a time, his boots and socks were removed. Then he was returned to standing barefoot. He expected them to unbind his wrist and upper body straps next, but instead, they unsnapped and unzipped the crotch of his black leather pants. With some tugging friction due to the stickiness of the sweat, they slid them down his hips and off his legs. Casper, not wanting to be indecent in front of others, made several muffled yells, but no one paid any attention. His leather singlet was removed next as he felt that being tugged off. As he was yelling, some strong guy grabbed him from behind in a bear hug and lifted his feet off the floor about a foot. When he was set back on his feet, he didn’t immediately realize his black leather bikini briefs had been removed.
Casper stood there naked from the waist down and leather-clad and bound from the waist up. He was then maneuvered backward a few steps, and when he felt the back of his legs up against the seat edge of a sturdy, heavy wooden chair, they gently sat him on it. Casper thought this was now the time to escape. As soon as they’d unstrap his arms, he’d jump up from the chair and make a dash for it. But instead of unstrapping his wrists or upper body, they re-strapped his bare ankles, one to each leg of the heavy chair. Then they secured straps just above each knee in a way that forced his knees apart and immobilized there. Casper thought now even if his arms were freed, he could not stand up and even attempt an escape.
As if he had needed any proof, they did exactly that. One man unbound his wrists and held them behind him while two other men unbuckled the other upper body straps. Now he was held and subdued while still being trapped securely to the legs of the heavy chair and held by the guy holding his wrists. While held like that, one of the men unfastened his slave collar and then unsnapped his jacket collar. Then they unzipped his jacket. Now they simply leaned him forward and removed his jacket so he was now completely naked, except for the hood. His wrists were rebound to the arms of the heavy chair with black leather straps. The other straps were replaced around his chest and belly and encircled the back of the chair.
After what seemed like a few hours in the heat and soaked in sweat due to his mummy-like leather covering, Casper felt a sudden chill as he sat secured and vulnerable. He was still wearing the hood with both the tubes, which also gagged him. He had been unable to see or communicate with his captors. He was a wonderful sight to Paul and the other men who had joined him for the test. Casper's muscular, naked body was “dressed” in only black leather straps that tightly indented the bronzed naked flesh of his arms and legs.
Casper would hear the term “el usado” once in a while, and he believed Paul when he told him it was a fancy word for “helper.” When in actuality, it is Spanish for “the used one.” But it did not matter to Casper; he still thought he was being tested to be a helper who would be hired to tie up other people, the members of Greys.
The next part of the test was being prepared. Experience showed Paul that a better effect was achieved if el usado could see during this part of the “test.” He went to the supply cupboard and found what he was looking for. Returning to Casper, he went behind the handsome bound young man and removed the rubber hood that blinded and gagged him. Paul knew the first thing Casper would do was flex his jaw to relieve any cramping the gag caused.
As the hood was loosened from his head, Casper thought that the test was over and he was ready for release, although he had been a little confused by being rebound to the chair. The tubed-hood and its built-in gag were pulled off his head. As expected, Casper squinted as soon as the light flooded his eyes, and he opened his mouth to flex his jaw in relief.
Just as he opened his mouth to stretch his jaw, he felt something forcibly pushed in. A wide strap was pulled around his face and secured behind his head. He could feel something cold and floppy in his mouth and tried to push it out with his tongue. Then, whatever the loose, floppy, rubbery thing was in his mouth, it seemed to expand. Casper began to panic. He could see something behind him, and he strained to look around. There was Paul, holding a rubber ball bladder attached by a tube to his face strap.
Suddenly, Casper knew what was going on. The rubber bulb in his mouth was inflating as Paul pumped air into it. The gag-filled his mouth, and he was once more cut off from communicating with Paul. It was then that Casper noticed there were other people in the room. He looked around to see about half a dozen men standing around him. Each was dressed in a transparent latex suit covering them from head to toe. Casper couldn't believe his eyes. The men before him were very well developed; their muscular forms could be seen beneath the mostly clear latex body suits. The hood portions contained two small tubes protruding from the nose area, obviously used for breathing. Seeing did not require eye holes since the covering was clear and allowed the men to see through the material.
As they moved around, Casper noticed that the suits zipped up the back, and each of them had a small padlock at the very top, which stopped them from being removed without a key. He had the distinct impression that the only keys would be with Paul. All features were visible beneath the clear suits these men wore. Body hair could be seen flattened and moistened by the clear latex. The only other opening in the suits was at the crotch. Each of the men had their cock and balls outside of the suit. There was a locked strap around the base of those private parts so they could not slip back into the suit, making them not so private.
Then Casper noticed something strange about the mouth of these men. They were stuffed with what looked like large rubber wedges. These guys were gagged. Paul now turned his attention to Casper and, looking him in the eyes, he asked, “How are you feeling?” Casper felt too strange to respond. He was beside himself. "The test is still underway, so please try and relax. Remember that you are in no danger, but you will NOT have the opportunity to pull out of the test at this late stage,” Paul concluded.
That ominous message delivered, Paul nodded to four of the men standing nearest, and they came over to Casper; they knew what was expected of them. Each man picked up a corner of the chair and lifted it. Of course, four men were not needed, but it was a ritual thing. The men moved it a few yards, rotated, and set it down so Casper was now staring at himself in a large mirror, looking at his bound, gagged, naked body. He and the heavy wooden chair were as one.
Casper couldn't believe what he saw. He was stark naked, bound and gagged, AND surrounded by these unbelievably well-toned young men in transparent latex suits. As if on cue, some of the men approached him once more. They were carrying bottles and began tipping the contents over Casper's bound form. He was startled by its cold touch. As the liquid slowly trickled over his body, the men massaged him. The clear latex-gloved hands massaged the oil all over his body. The hands were everywhere, over his shoulders, down his chest, over his stomach, and down to his cock and balls. His dick was now standing out fully hard and bobbing. They massaged every part and crevice of his body, leaving Casper gasping through his gag at the pleasure of their touch.
The Dark Side of Greys
Part 3 of 5
Just when Casper felt he could take no more, he was ready to shoot his load again. The hands left him. Then Paul was standing in front of him once again. He, too, was wearing latex gloves. Casper realized that all this latex and rubber were all a huge part of their fetish. In his hands, he held a strap, this time, a shorter, narrower strap only a few inches long. "God, not another strap,” thought Casper. Paul bent in front of him and, taking his slippery cock and balls in one hand, wrapped this leather band around his dick and balls at the base and snapped it in place, a cock ring that neatly encircled his dick and balls.
Lastly, Paul picked up a black cord. It looked like a soft black cotton rope. He wound it around and around his jutting dick. Then he looped the rope behind Casper’s body and tied it off at his dick. Now his rigid cock would stand mightily like a stiff pole as if he could hoist his flag of surrender. Then all the men, including Paul, filed out of the room. Casper was left staring at himself in the mirror. His body was now slick with the oil; the hair on his head was shiny and slicked back. He glistened in the light of the room. Even the leather straps securing his body were shiny with oil. Staring at himself, he stared at his stiff, well-secured, hard dick protruding from his groin. The tip end was tied, so it had to point upward rather than the normal angle forward. He realized that with his dick in this upward position, it was like his balls could not hide from the view of anyone. Both his dick AND balls were on public display. Casper got quite a high as he considered his current state. He had never felt so helpless and so horny at the same time in all his life. Time passed as he sat there. He wondered how long he had been undergoing the 'test.' It seemed like days since he first walked into the house. He noticed his dick was bobbing up and down, wondering with each bob what these men would do to him next.
The door opened at last, and four of the men he had seen earlier walked in, except they were now dressed in tight, heavy leather. Then Casper noticed they still wore the clear latex hoods with gags and full suits they had worn before. This meant that these men still wore latex suits underneath the heavy leather clothes. They must have been baking in the heat and basted in their own sweat.
The men went to the cupboard and came back with a king-sized black latex sheet. Taking each end of the sheet, they threw it over Casper's still bound and gagged form. As the lights went out for Casper, he wondered what would happen next. He didn't have long to wait for the answer. The men wrapped the sheet lightly around him, leaving sufficient openings for air to enter but making it impossible for Casper to see anything going on.
He tried to attract their attention by mumbling and gurgling through his gag. Then he remembered that they couldn't answer because of their own gags. As he sat in relative darkness, he suddenly felt the chair he was so completely bound to being lifted into the air once more. This time, the “throne chair” was taken out of the room altogether. It was carried through the house to the back entrance and outside. Casper could hear the sound of an engine. The chair, with the covered naked, bound stud, was loaded into the back of a pickup truck. This particular pickup truck had removed all the sides of the bed, so it was like a mini-flatbed truck. Unbeknown to Casper, the chair's four legs were slipped tightly into four upright steel tubes that were welded into the truck bed. Also unknown to him was the fact that the corners of the black sheet were also secured to the floor of the truck bed. So neither his chair nor the sheet that covered his naked body would slip around. If Casper could see and watch these men as they secured him to his chair and placed him in the truck with precision, he would have realized they had done this many times before.
As the reconstructed flatbed truck left Paul’s home carrying Casper, the other men followed closely in a large van. This was definitely a ceremonial procession. Casper was totally naked, bound tightly to a “throne chair” on a flatbed truck with no sides, covered only by a thin latex sheet. He was being “presented” to all other traffic and passers-by. One would have thought Paul would have taken a route that avoided the main streets and the downtown area as much as possible. But no. One might also think that Paul would have wanted this procession to move at a safe but more expeditious speed. Again, no. The vehicles moved slowly and wound up and down the center of town. Casper could hear the surrounding traffic. When stopped at red lights, he could hear the pedestrians chatting as they stood or walked on the sidewalk.
Casper felt the wind ripple the sheet that covered him. He prayed it wouldn’t blow off and expose his naked body to the world. He had no idea that he had remained erect under that sheet. He could feel the sheet's softness tickling his body as the wind blew under it. The cool air piqued his nipples. He struggled in his bond -not to try to escape, but to feel their tightness. Somehow, being totally restricted in the movement was exciting. The idea that he was naked and tied up under that sheet seemed highly erotic to him. And all the while, he kept wondering if he would pass the test. He wondered how he would do as el usado who tied up clients. He still had no clue that he would be hired to be the victim the clients tied up.
Finally, after an hour, the truck slowed, made a dip, drove a short distance, and parked. It was at some downtown location but not on the street. He could hear traffic noises and sounds of people talking, but it all sounded a little distant. It was night. Anyone who saw the covered form on the back of the flatbed would assume it was some inanimate object. Maybe a work of art was being delivered. In reality, Paul had driven him into a driveway of a nondescript downtown building. The front of the windowless building had an address but no sign. And, it was not well-lit. It was well-maintained and nicely painted, but no one could tell what this establishment was from the outside. The only people who would go there would be the men who were members of Greys Club. The truck was parked at the side of the building, towards the rear. As the van pulled into the driveway a little further, an automatic gate closed, cutting off driveway access.
Casper felt the cover sheet being pulled and manipulated, but it was not removed. Instead, a few coils of rope were looped around him and the chair to hold the sheet over him. He felt his chair being lifted a few inches upward and then tilted a bit as he was lowered onto the concrete. Then Paul said, “OK, now let’s get him inside,” as he opened the back door to let the procession of the covered, bound, naked boy proceed into the building.
There seemed to be too much motion and commotion for Casper to remain quiet. He began to yell, “What’s going on? Let me go!” But all they heard were muffled sounds, more like music to their ears. Four men, still dressed in leather-covered latex body suits, carried Casper slowly, in a rhythmic step manner, into the main reception room of Greys. Finally, the chair was put down, and the black latex sheet loosened and removed. Casper was left in the middle of the room, bound and gagged as he was and still covered in oil. He felt himself blush; he had not expected to be thrown into such a situation just like this. He had no time to prepare for this experience; he was so fucking exposed.
Casper blinked at the sudden lights. When he could see properly, from the photographs Paul had shown him earlier that evening, he knew immediately where he was. This was Greys itself. There was no mistaking the layout of the room. Around the room were men in various forms of dress and undress. He was trying to figure out who were the clients and who were los usados. He had a puzzled look on his face. It was obvious what the member clients were paying their money for. Around the room, los usados were being bound up and abused by the clients as they wished. Los usados were being hooded, gagged, mummified, suspended from the walls, or subjected to anything else the client desired to indulge in.
It was time for Paul to explain. After all, Casper was there to be a victim, but he had to be a willing victim. Everyone knew this new el usado would be arriving tonight. It was all planned - last minute - but everyone had been e-mailed that Casper would arrive that night. They were all there to check him out, interested in how he took to the experience thus far and how he would accept the explanation.
“Casper,” Paul spoke as the room quieted down. “You mistakenly understand you are here to tie men up at this club. True, you are el usado, that is, if we want to hire you. But no el usado ties men up. I guess I did not explain in detail “el usado” is a Spanish word meaning “the used one.” You would be here for our “use,” to be tied up as we wish, in any manner we wish, for as long as we want you to be, period.” Casper was taking this all in, trying to understand exactly how he felt. “Yes, it is an unusual job, but one that pays well. Don’t you think £2,000 a month is a lot? … For … to … to be used?” Paul added.
“Yes, some members may want to be tied up; they are bondage bottoms. And those who want to tie up others are bondage tops. Members have a choice; they may have any role they want, but you have no choices here - none whatsoever. You are a bottom, a bondage boy, one to be used, period. You are here to obey and comply with the wishes of anyone here.” Paul looked down at Casper’s dick and noticed it was still erect and pointing upward.
Paul never asked him if he wanted to stay or go home. He did not want to interrupt Casper’s fascination as he looked around the room. He sat secured in his chair, watching the various scenes around him. All the while, his cock stood at rigid attention, throbbing for release. Eventually, clients started to pay attention to this new Usado “the one to be used.” Paul left him there and stepped away.
One client dressed in leather chaps, briefs, and gloves finally came towards him and, kneeling in front of this bound stud, took his slick cock into his mouth, and proceeded to suck him off, there and then. Casper, though straight, gave in to the erotic sensation and began to try to lift his hips in rhythm, but he was bound so tightly to the chair that he could only move up and down about an inch. There were no inhibitions at this club - that was obvious. As Casper desperately tried to fuck that wet, warm, juicy mouth to climax, the client suddenly stopped, got up, and walked away. He joined a couple of other men dressed similarly to him. When he reached them, he looked back, said something to the others as he pointed at Casper, and they all laughed.
Casper looked away in embarrassment. He tried once more to loosen his bonds but failed. Then another client approached him and pulled up a chair before him. "Hi,” said the man as he reached across and tweaked Casper's nipple. "You're new here. Are you enjoying yourself?” he continued. “It’s okay. I know you can't answer me through that gag.” Casper did not know how to respond anyway. The man started caressing Casper's chest. Casper let out a moan of pleasure, closed his eyes, and sank back into the chair. The man grabbed Casper’s cock and started kneading it roughly. Casper opened his eyes with a start and glowered at the man over his gag.
"My, we have spirit,” said the man, reaching up and ruffling Casper's hair. He got up, smiling, and walked away to the bar. Casper was screaming for release now, yelling for attention through his gag. But all the members already knew what the boy wanted and knew they had all night to give it to him … or not. His throbbing cock was blue from the strap, still holding it upright. He longed for someone to finish what the first man had started.
No sooner had he calmed down again than another client came over to him and brought him once more to arousal by licking his “angry” dick and balls. He licked them like a candy sucker. He used his tongue to tickle the tip and then put his full mouth over it, but he did not suck. He held his mouth over it lightly. In response, Casper’s dick bobbed to make contact with the roof of that mouth and tongue. But the man never applied any pressure to Casper’s dick. He just let it bob inside his light-encasing mouth, certainly not giving Casper any friction to which it could explode. He was bringing himself to the brink but could not get over it. The man was letting him engage in self-erotic torture. Casper was gasping and trying to move his hips, and some members gathered around and applauded the man’s talent. This artful torture continued for some time. Casper could do nothing to relieve himself, and the clients were obviously skilled in these matters because none of them actually brought him off.
The men were of all body types, slender, heavy, older, younger, macho, fem, hairy and smooth. The member clients could be of any type, as long as they were into bondage, leather, rubber, latex, or other kinds of kink. Los usados could have no preferences. They were there to serve club members of any build or taste. Although the majority of the clients wore leather, presumably to emphasize their roles as masters, some were wearing rubber or latex.
One man caught Casper's eye in particular. He was dressed completely in black rubber. He wore a full-body suit, complete with gloves, and a rubber hood, which clung to his face but had eyes, nose, and mouth holes. The suit had high rubber boots, and a large rubber cape swirled about him as he moved. Suddenly, “Rubberman” was standing to one side of Casper. Casper felt his presence and turned his head to look at the rubber-clad figure. Close up, the man was much larger than he looked from a distance. His tight rubber suit was stretched over a muscular chest. The muscles rippled beneath the rubber as he moved.
Casper could do nothing except watch. He was still totally naked and bound tightly to his throne-like chair. His inflated gag prevented him from communicating anything. He could not even squirm in his bonds which held his knees spread wide-open and his upper back firmly against the chair. He wanted to signal “Hello” and greet the man pleasantly, hoping he would take pity on him and allow him to climax. But it would have made no difference; Casper would be treated as the members wanted to treat him.
When Rubberman approached Casper, he walked around him, examining every inch of his leather-strapped naked young body. Casper could only follow him with his eyes. The man touched his cheek with his rubber-gloved hand, felt the gag's tightness, and nodded in approval. Then the man stood in front of Casper with his back towards him. He reached behind him and pulled his voluminous cape around to the front to expose his ass to Casper. Casper saw a cut-out in the back of the man's rubber suit exposing a hairy backside.
Casper couldn't believe his eyes as the man backed up to him. He flung his flowing cape over Casper and the back of the chair and gently worked his asshole onto Casper’s rigid, throbbing dick. Rubberman eased onto Casper’s stiff rocket, which was so heated and ready for takeoff. Once Rubberman began to channel the boy’s dick into his asshole, he more forcibly just sat down on it, pushing down to take in as much of the dick as his asshole could swallow. Casper felt his thighs being crushed beneath the muscle man's weight. “Rubberman” pushed his muscular back firmly against Casper’s chest and even against his gagged face.
Casper wanted this guy to ease off. He wanted to signal that his gag was being crushed into his face, and it was much harder to breathe, but Casper was now covered in the darkness of the man’s rubber cape, which also seemed to take away fresh air. He could not expand his chest and was in near panic as Rubberman bounced on his dick, seemingly paying no attention to Casper’s gasping sounds. As Casper got light-headed, he stopped trying to resist, and Rubberman could feel the boy’s surrender as well as his ever-hardening dick. Members of Greys were not novices. It only took one or two visits to understand how to treat one’s victims safely but with powerful, pushing-the-limit, demanding treatment. Casper was lost in this world of professional dominators. He had no idea what the members were doing to him now, why - or what they planned to do to him later. But they did have an idea. They knew exactly what they were doing and why and what Casper would be turned into.
Casper could only sit while the man moved his hand up and down on his oil-slicked prick. He was gasping for breath as the man pushed against his chest, forcing the air out of his lungs. The gag in his mouth further hampered his breathing, and the surrounding rubber cape “tent” offered little but rubber-tinged air for him to take in short breaths.
Casper soon forgot about the pain and restrictive breathing as the man continued his pumping motions on his cock. As he felt his balls start to tighten, his constricted throat released, surrendering muffled moans, and his hips tried to thrust upward almost involuntarily. His dick was cocked and ready to release its most pent-up load ever. Then Rubberman pushed down firmly, then bounced upward, and stood completely up. He quickly spun around and stared at Casper’s dick. He wanted to know if he’d waited too long and had given Casper’s hair-triggered dick all it needed to blast off. It would not have been a disaster if he had allowed Casper to shoot. Still, Rubberman, like many club members, was an expert at bringing los usados to the edge of ecstasy without allowing ecstasy to actually occur. As he stared at Casper’s bobbing dick and his frantic, hobbled hip thrusts, he smiled at his success. Casper’s muffled yells of anger were enjoyed by all the men who had been caught up watching Rubberman’s fantastic technique and timing.
The Dark Side of Greys
Part 4 of 5
Steven, one of the other men who frequently help with these new el usado initiations, came over to Casper and stood before him wearing only a black jock and thigh-high black motorcycle boots. Without looking overly concerned, it was his job to ensure all new inductees were not freaking out too much. As an actual medical doctor, Steven needed a quick visual exam to see if the boy was fine to continue. Concerns are always raised when an inductee pleads a great deal to be released. Or when he seems to be hyperventilating.
But Steven could easily tell Casper was fine. He would say, ‘Wonderful,’ just on an emotional high from being in such an extremely erotic environment. And that ... is exactly where they all wanted Casper to be. Steven manipulated a small valve on the back side of Casper's head, where the gag was secured, and let the air out of the inflated rubber balloon in his mouth. Then he unstrapped his gag and completely removed it. Casper did not care about the drool pouring out of his mouth and down his chest. Though his head was filled with question and anxiety, his only concern at that moment was to gaspingly plead for his climax. His dick continued to bob, and his hips tried in vain to fuck the air. In a panic, he begged, “Oh God, oh please, oh good, kind Sir, oh please, oh fucking please, please, oh God, just please, please let me …”
Steven stepped aside as Paul came up to talk to Casper. "Aw, such sweet, sweet sounds," Paul said to himself. Then, aloud to Casper, “Shhh,” to him to calm him. Casper was not listening. “Shhh. Shhhhhhhh.” And he petted the sweat-soaked head of the desperate bound-up boy. Casper’s eyes teared up, and wet streaks slid down his cheeks. Onlookers politely applauded, but Casper didn’t hear. His mind was focused on his dick. “Shhhh. We are going to allow you to climax if you want to. It is your choice.” That was strange. No Usado was given choices. But Casper believed him. “Yes, if you want, we will untie you and allow you to climax.” Casper burst out with “Oh, thank you,” continuously, over and over again.
“But there are two conditions. One, you do not get to beat yourself off; our members get to bring you off. And two, you must produce the maximum amount of cum you possibly can.” Casper looked puzzled at how he would do that. “Don’t worry; we will help you with both conditions.”
“Now, with your permission, Casper, we will place leather cuffs on you. We call them training cuffs. This is the same training gear all los usados must wear as beginners. If that is ok with you, we’ll set you free.” Casper immediately agreed. Two men came up and unfastened the straps that held his ankles, knees, waist, chest, and wrists so tightly bound to the chair. They had to help him stand and walk him around a little as he flexed his leg muscles and stretched his back. The handsome naked young man of 23 was a feast for all the eyes that drank in his tan, muscle-toned flesh.
He was given a cloudy beverage and a dark brown, heavily textured, chewy “cake” which was obviously homemade. Casper made a face because it tasted weird, awful actually. But he did not want to refuse Paul’s kindness, especially since he was now freed. Since everyone who was gathered around him was all smiles, he assumed the test was over and that he had passed.
“You probably need a good pee, don’t you?” Casper smiled and said he certainly did and looked around for a sign that said “Restroom.” Paul waved to a staff member to bring over a bucket, and he did. “OK, here you go, just let it all out.” Casper was shocked; he wanted him to pee in the bucket. Paul gave him no other choice. With a blush, Casper grabbed his now mostly deflated dick and pointed it into the bucket held by the staffer. “Oh no, Casper, this is a good time to learn. You are not allowed to touch your own dick. OK?” Casper looked embarrassed, as if he thought he should have known that.
The staffer held the bucket under Casper’s dick and waited. Everyone stared in silence, making it even more difficult for him to release his urine flow. He closed his eyes and pretended that he was alone, and the flow started, first as a dribble, then in a stream. And almost in unison, there were “Ah’s.” He did feel very relieved … to be relieved. The bucket was taken away to the kitchen, where his urine was refrigerated for later.
“Now, where are the training cuffs?” Said Paul. One of the senior leather men at the club, Master Ed, stepped forward with the items in hand, actually three items. “OK, Casper, put out your hands so you can receive the official gear that shows you to be a new Usado. He did, and one at a time, Master Ed wrapped a standard black leather cuff around each of the boy’s wrists and buckled it closed. These cuffs were plain except the each had a metal “D” ring attached.
One of the other members, who had on latex gloves, inserted his long middle finger up Casper’s ass, wiggled it, and then withdrew it. Casper just made a face but said nothing. “Yes, Paul, you are right. His ass is as clean as a whistle.” Paul was pleased; all was going so well with this obedient boy.
“Now, for the official collar for el usado. Master Ed, would you please fasten his collar on.” It was an inch-wide black leather collar buckled in the back, not uncomfortable to wear. The collar had metal clips, which you can pinch open and close. One was on each side of the collar, above the shoulders. He buckled the collar closed. With that done, he knelt down and checked the leather cock ring the boy still wore from earlier and decided to tighten it a bit more. Casper winced when he felt it tighten. When Master Ed was satisfied, he stood and admired their new Usado, all naked except for the black leather straps around his neck, wrists, and cock and balls. Casper looked at his cuffs, felt his collar, and thought that at least he would now fit in. There was a slight sense of pride, especially because the event was over, and he had completed it successfully. He had got the job. As unusual and weird as this whole experience was, he had managed to get through it!
“Now, Casper, are you ready to cum?” Paul asked calmly. Casper nodded, and Paul looked down at his now flaccid dick. “Well, not quite yet. I don’t think you can cum when you’re not even hard.” The group assembled around them released giggles and laughter. Casper again displayed a look of embarrassment as he reached for his dick to work it into an erection. “Oh no, boy. Remember, you agreed not to jerk yourself off?” Casper mouthed the word “Oops” and let go of his dick.
“Don’t worry. We know you are eager. Here, give me your hand.” He held out his right hand, and Paul raised it, placed that cuff to the right side of the boy’s collar, and snapped it to the “D” ring. Then Paul gestured for his left hand and snapped that cuff to the left side of his collar. Now the boy’s hands were attached to each side of his collar. “You see how helpful we are? Now even if you have the urge to play with your dick, we have made it so you can’t. And what do you say?” Casper sheepishly voiced a, “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“OK, we are ready for the ‘staging crew,’” Paul called out. A pair of twins stepped forward; each had light skin, short dark hair, and blue eyes. Their names were Joel and Jan. They moved to the center of this large, high-ceilinged reception room, carrying a large steel pipe and a few other things. Jan knelt down where there was a small metal plate on the floor and immediately removed the four screws holding it. When the plate was removed, a three-inch diameter metal sleeve was exposed, probably six inches deep into the foundation. Joel, who held the large steel pipe, lifted it and inserted it into the metal sleeve. It was a snug fit, and that pipe now stood steady and vertical, about two feet tall. It was not going to move.
Obviously, there was more to it than just being a simple section of pipe. It appeared to have something inside it and a small crank handle attached halfway up the side of the pipe. The twins work in unison, knowing exactly what they are doing. Jan went over to Casper with a tape measure and measured the distance from the floor to his asshole. He returned to his brother and told them, “26 inches.”
Joel then turned the crank handle slowly, and a smaller wood pole, about two inches in diameter, rose from inside the steel pipe. Joel raised it to exactly 26 inches. Casper was brought over to the telescoped apparatus and just stared, not sure what to make of it. On closer inspection, Casper noticed, however, that the tapered 10 inches of the tip of the pole was flesh-colored and appeared rubbery. Although Casper, being straight and traditional, had no experience with dildos - that was what it looked like - a 10-inch dildo secured to the end of the wooden pole. The only difference was that it did not mimic the anatomical shape of a dick. Instead, it was totally smooth, with a blunt tip and a long 10-inch taper. At the tip, it was a half inch in diameter, and where it was attached to the wood pole, 10 inches down, it was two inches in diameter, the same as the pole's diameter. So it was one long continuous smooth tapered shape.
Casper wondered what it was for as he saw them greasing the rubbery tapered end. He was naked, and his hands were secured out-of-the-way to his collar. Then the twins gently brought Casper over to stand up straight, directly over the tip end of the pole. Jan was kneeling to carefully align the rubber pole tip with his asshole. He had to lift Casper’s ass cheeks and spread them a bit to fully see what he was doing. Without giving Casper any time to think and thus freak out, Joel stepped behind him and quickly turned the cranked handle a few times to raise the pole tip one inch. This was the most time he could afford to make sure the pole tip was exactly aligned to enter Casper’s asshole. Jan even wiggled Casper’s hips to be sure his ass properly accepted the pole tip.
At this point, it was like a four-inch dildo with a diameter of one and a half inches, not all that much. True, it was not soft, pliable rubber, but there were many pros there that had done this many times, and they knew exactly what they were doing. It was the fact that Casper had no control over the situation in which he now found himself that alarmed him the most. His hands were firmly secured by his neck collar and were useless. He could no longer move off the pole; it was too far inside him - now holding him standing there. The other thing was that Casper was not gay; he never experimented. He never even used a dildo. He had fucked women, and that was it. So the strangeness of this scene really freaked him out.
With the OK nod from Jan, Joel very slowly cranked the pole another four inches higher and into the virgin asshole. Now, Casper was impaled on five inches of the pole. This meant that the pole was now actually holding him on the spot. He could not just step away or get on his tiptoes to elevate his ass high enough to remove himself from the pole. Now, the twins did not have to worry about proper pole alignment or Casper’s ability to step away from the pole. They could now patiently concentrate on expanding his asshole and impaling him more properly to maximize his erotic sensations. Of course, any erotic sensations in Casper’s ass would be new to him since he had never been fucked before. Currently, he felt only discomfort, mild pain, and emotional distress from this weird and seemingly diabolical apparatus.
He wanted to reach down and interfere with the crank, but his hands were secured to his slave collar. He looked up at Paul, who was standing at his side, gave a look of panic, and said, “Oh god, please don’t. Please!” Paul said nothing but stepped over to Casper and hugged and petted him to calm him down.
Joel began to turn the crank again and raised the pole another inch, but as soon as he did, both the twins immediately noticed Casper going up on his toes, indicating discomfort and resistance. The dildo was not only further up his asshole, but every inch inserted was bigger in diameter so that his ass was being stretched wider also. Joel stopped cranking, and Jan, who remained kneeling on the floor, began to lick and tease Casper’s dick. It responded as anticipated, getting stiffer. He didn’t put it in his mouth; he teased it with his tongue. Casper shivered and moaned. He tried to thrust his hips forward to encourage that mouth to engulf him. But Jan was too smart and too experienced to allow that … yet.
Besides, being impaled by the pole meant Casper could only move his body a half inch in any direction. This is what Jan wanted to cause Casper to do, wriggle his body and, in the process, get his ass to accept more of the pole. Sure enough, Casper’s feet were soon flat on the floor again. Six inches was now accepted by Casper’s ass. Joel waited a moment to let Casper lose himself further in the erotic sensations he was experiencing for the first time.
Again, and slower this time, Joel raised the dildo-tipped pole higher as Jan worked nonstop on his dick. The two, working in unison, distracted Casper enough so that another two inches of pole rose into his asshole before Casper was on his toes, again resisting. Joel stopped again. This time, Paul tweaked Casper’s nipples and soon placed wooden clothespins on his nipples. This caused Casper to suck in a deep breath and focus on trying to escape the pain in his nipples. He tilted his body backward to one side and then the other. During his defensive moves, Casper inadvertently lowered his body so that his feet were flat again on the floor. He was impaling himself, and now his ass had accepted eight inches of dildo. In fact, the further up it had been inserted, the more “pegged” Casper had become. And with the decrease in his freedom, he became more aware he had also forfeited control.
Since Casper’s feet were flat again on the floor, Joel gave the crank a few turns. It amounted to about one additional inch, enough for the boy to return to his tippy toes. So Joel not only stopped cranking but clicked the handle into a locked position. He was done. Nine inches up a virgin ass was enough. Now it was up to Jan to lick his balls and really suck Casper’s own steel pole! Just then, Paul quickly removed the clothespins from Casper’s nipples, causing a sharp pain to shoot through them. He moved his body from the waist up (that was all he could do with a nine-inch dildo impaling him) and also side to side. That was all it took of Casper to inadvertently work his own ass further down onto his anal invader. With his feet flat on the floor, Joel and Jan had completed their job.
There was Casper, like a solemn, hedonistic statue to be worshiped. His hands were attached to his slave collar; he was all boned up, helplessly standing naked, impaled on a large wooden pole. Jan was no longer sucking or teasing his dick or even touching him; no one was touching him. He was moaning and, in a desperate mumbled voice, was begging for anyone to climax him.
Paul walked up to him and spoke softly, “You promised that when one of us brings you off, you will give us the biggest load you possibly could spew. And I told you we would help you out with that. We are helping you build it up. There are now 32 members in the club. Each one will come up to you and play with your body however they like. Some will tweak your nipples, maybe put tit clamps on them, some may lick and suck your dick, others may try to swallow your balls and give them a good mouth washing. Still, more may take some of the hundreds of clothespins in this box and decorate your body. Anyway, they wish. So, you see, we will be doing all the work while you get to stay here like a boy toy stuck on a pole.”
Casper was moaning and oozing precum without being touched as Paul spoke. But he most certainly would be touched, tickled, teased, and tormented throughout that night! “All you have to do, my boy, is to thank each client member when they give you their erotic attention. You may beg each member for permission to cum, and see who will appease you. You only need one of us to allow your climax, just one of us.” Casper was dizzy from all the erotic stimulation. He could hardly concentrate. Paul continued. “If you climax without permission, that job which pays £2,000 a month, will go to someone else who is more obedient, agreeable, and self-disciplined. Do you understand?” Paul said to him in a calm voice.
Even as Paul was talking to him, a member, Billy, knelt and licked the dripping string of pre-cum oozing out of Casper’s dick. Then he licked his balls. Everyone in the room knew not to suck Casper’s dick, or the result would be for him to climax. As Billy stood and began to nibble on Casper’s tits, Paul continued to speak as if he had Casper’s full attention. But the only part of Casper that was at full attention was his stiff bobbing dick, which Paul pretended to ignore.
“It might be a good idea to thank each member trying to use your body for their pleasure. Such as Billy here, working on your nipples and sucking them for you. You should be grateful.”
“Oh, … um … Ah … thank you, Sir, Ba … Ba … Billy …”
The Dark Side of Greys
Part 5 of 5
Paul interrupted Casper, “What are you thanking him for? Please be specific. I mean, you’d be wise to be very respectful to him and anyone else who takes their time to amuse themselves by using you.”
“Oh yes, Sir, Billy. Oh, thank you for licking my dick and balls and nipples and … and …” Casper was stark butt naked, standing still, flat-footed on a pole that impaled him nine inches into his asshole. He was “pegged” in place. He could not jump off it or release himself in any way. His hands, fastened to his slave collar as they were, were totally useless. His dick jutted upwards and twitched as it begged for his climax.
But everyone there was, more or less, a pro at erotic edging. Everyone who went up to him, one or two at a time, stared at his bobbing dick to make sure it was not touched directly, or at least barely or lightly, touched directly. In almost every case of edging, they could fondle, tickle, tease, and molest a young man’s body everywhere without too much concern. As long as they paid attention to the ridged twitching dick, preventing a boy's climax was not too difficult.
A couple of members came up, and Paul “introduced” them as Spike and Rover. “Yes, Casper, they are a master and dog couple. What do you have to say to them?”
Casper wriggled his upper body in excitement and nervousness. Although his hips were pegged still, he could move his upper body about a foot in any direction. “I ... I’m … so pleased to be here to please you, Mr. Spike and Mr. Dog … Rover ... Rover Sir. I … hope I am satisfactory and you will let me please cum soon. I … I … can’t hold … ah … “
At that movement, Spike was standing and nibbling on Casper’s ears, one at a time, and he used his fingernails to pinch his now pointed tits. Like any good pup, Rover was on his hands and knees, pushing his nose behind Casper’s balls, trying to snuffle and then lick around Casper’s asshole. Of course, the two-inch diameter pole was up there, so the best he could do was lick around where the pole entered his ass, as well as his perineum. That sent tremor upon tremor through Casper’s body, and Casper thought he was going to shoot. The stimulation to his ears and tits, and perineum was too much. Casper’s dick was bobbing and ready to blast off. Except … no one was touching his dick.
Rover was now licking the balls, careful not to send the twitching, dripping dick over the edge. Rover was watching the dick dance, as he had seen so many times before at Greys men’s club. Casper was humming and moaning. He could not hear anything Paul was saying. He only noticed Paul’s lips move.
“I’m … I’m cumming … cumming … gonna shoot … please let me. Please …” Casper was out of his mind, over the edge, and would begin his ejaculation immediately. He could not stop it. His angry dick danced and bobbed and dripped pre-cum. But it needed one pump with a firm hand. That was all it needed - just one firm caress, just one firm touch. But Casper’s dick did not get it. He kept muttering, “Please?” Then, “I’ll be good,” and included a few, “Oh god’s!” As Casper whined and trembled, Spike and Rover silently stepped away. Casper didn’t notice that they had stopped and left; he continued to mumble to them. Everyone was watching the new impaled el usado.
Just then, four buddies came over to the whining, whimpering, boned-up Casper. One knelt in front of him, one behind him, one leaned into his chest, and the other leaned into his upper back. All four began to give Casper a tongue bath. The two club members on the floor began licking his feet and sucking his toes. The two guys working on his upper body were tickle-licking and nibbling his skin everywhere. Since Casper had his hands attached to his slave collar, it was easy for the two guys to lift his elbows and lick his armpits. And all around his muscle-toned body. In the process, Casper rose up on his toes in reaction to feeling totally sexy and exhilarated. The feet lickers used that moment to lick the heel and bottom of Casper's feet as best they could. He wanted to facilitate their tasks, so he remained on his toes as if he felt commanded to hold that position. He knew he must obey. He wanted to obey. He wanted to please them, to show them all he was cooperative, obedient, and pliable to their wishes.
He rose up as high as he could so they could lick the bottom soles of his handsome feet. Then he felt their hands pulling his heels down, feet flat onto the floor's surface. So he lowered himself. They were each licking one of his knees, but their hands remained on his feet. Then they put their finger under his feet, signaling for him to rise up on his toes once again, and when he did, they put additional pressure pushing his heels higher, creating a strain for Casper to rise up as much as he could and to balance on his strong toes. As they licked his knees, again, they were pulling his feet flat on the floor, and he complied. They added the command “heels up” and “heels down.” Again and again, he complied. They had him rise up as high as he could and lower himself again. “Heels up.” Then, “Heels down.” Over and over. He was moaning. He did not realize that he was actually fucking himself on the wood pole. The licking distracted him everywhere except his dick, and he kept raising and lowering his body on the pole to their commands. It was a rhythmic drone in deep, deep voices. Some members were setting up large ritualistic candles everywhere and lighting them. The large overhead chandelier lights were not as bright. Then the chanting ebbed and faded to silence.
Paul watched and smiled. He watched as everyone toyed with and used Casper. Anyway, they wished. The last member, Rusty, their most senior member in his eighties, came over. He knelt in front of the impaled, oozing boy who was no longer fully aware of all that was happening. Rusty opened his mouth and set his tongue on the tip of Casper’s dick, just barely touching it. He was receiving the drips and strings of pre-cum on his tongue. If anyone was an expert in edging a boy, it was Rusty. Paul told him to look down at Rusty. And Casper looked down, glassy-eyed, trembling, moaning, but then he saw Rusty with his tongue out. Casper went wild. He wanted to pump his hips forward into Rusty’s open mouth, but he had no control over his hips. He willed his hips to thrust forward. They were pegged still. He yelled, “Oh god, please, please, please … “
He stared down at Rusty, who flicked his long, snake-like tongue to lightly tickle Casper’s dick the full length. Then he tilted his face upward, under Casper’s jutting dick, to reach back under the boy all the way to his hanging balls. Then he lightly licked, in one long, agonizingly slow motion, from the bottom of Casper’s balls, to under the base of his dick, and from under the middle of his dick, to the very tip. He did it ever so lightly. As his tongue made the tickling wet path, Casper’s dick bobbed up repeatedly as the tongue moved. Then, as he did it again and again, the dick bounced and danced. But since the pressure was so light, barely making contact, there was just not enough friction for the boy to cum. Casper shuddered, moaned, whimpered, and shook. He was actually crying as tears leaked down his cheeks. Not crying out loud but to himself.
“Casper, would you like to cum now?” And the boy wailed out loud, unashamed, like a boy in anguish, or in this case, erotic anguish. He nodded and said, like a little boy, “Yes, please, yes.”
“Well, Casper, let me ask, do you want to cum? Or do you want to be hired?” Casper did not respond. He just cried.
Just then, Rusty opened his mouth wide and covered Casper’s raging, hair-trigger dick. However, Rusty did not close his mouth to the throbbing dick; he left his mouth open but fully over the boy’s twitching dick. Casper was looking down, watching. Seeing a man engulfing his dick was making his dick buck up and down. When it twitched up, it contacted the roof of Rusty’s mouth; when it twitched down, it contacted Rusty’s tongue. Casper tried desperately to make it bob and twitch, up and down faster, to “force” his dick to touch some part of that wet juicy mouth. Casper did not notice, but the room lights were getting dimmer, and hundreds of candles were being lit.
His whole body was vibrating and shaking; he was in a constant state of moaning and groaning. Rusty wriggled his tongue and petted and teased the dick it was hosting. It was three in the morning, and all members were mesmerized by how Casper held on. Few boys can withstand so much stimulation. Rusty remained on his knees, with Casper’s throbbing dick lightly in his mouth, as he used his tongue and warm exhausted breath to drive Casper wild, pushing him, testing him, driving him too dazed hysteria. Now, other members encircled Casper’s impaled puppet body with that great wooden pole sunk deep into his ass. Casper was begging to get more stimulation from anyone so he could climax. It was all above and beyond his control, and he sobbed in sheer frustration. Then the circle of men began to chant softly at first, then gradually louder and louder, until it echoed in Casper’s head, inside his gut, inside his ass. He did not understand at first the catechism of words the throaty voices were rhythmically bellowing out. He found himself rising on his toes and then lowering himself. Up on his toes and then down on his heels. Louder, the chant came, “Heels up.” “Heels down,” … “Heels up,” … “Heels down.”
That was what was being chanted, over and over again, as Casper repeatedly fucked himself on the pole nine inches up his asshole. “Heels up …Heels down.” It was a droning-sounding command that his body unconsciously obeyed, and he fucked himself as Rusty teased his dick, titillating, playfully with his tongue. Some club members - the half dozen or so, who were nearest to him - licked him all over, while others used their fingernails to lightly tickle, pinch, and scratch him everywhere. Tongues invaded his ears and mouth, hands held up his elbows so his armpits could be invaded, while tongues darted into every crevice and over every mound of his flesh. One member was nibbling one tit while another was working the other. The room darkened to the almost pagan atmosphere presented by the flickering candlelight and the chanting, which had become softer in volume.
Rusty focused on the tip, the piss slit, and the mushroom head of Casper’s dancing, bobbing dick. Someone was pulling on his balls, even as he was fucking himself up and down, rhythmically in time with the distant chant. Casper, so drowned in dominating sensations, was the only one who did not know his dick had opened up and his puppet juices were draining from his spigot into Rusty’s mouth. His body did not even spasm; it just was manipulated to “let go.”
Casper kept fucking himself, heels up, then heels down, on the pole as the chant required. Some members stepped away so that others could come in close to him. No sensations abated; nothing changed, increased, or diminished. Everyone was assaulting his body. Other members continued the playful pace. Rusty never gave up; he never increased his intensity or slowed it down. Casper was mumbling incoherently, moaning and shaking. His hands were still, of course, secured out of the way to his collar, so he had no control over what seemed like hundreds of hands and tongues teasing and savoring his flesh.
Casper’s dick remained harder, even after his last climax. And it was desperate for a second release. But it was not something Casper was going to control. Rusty finally allowed his mouth to close and seal itself over that continuing throbbing dick tube and slowly sucked it in a total vacuum. And this time, Casper’s body shook and jolted, and he roared like a wild animal as his cum was taken from him, along with his energy. All touch on his body was becoming lighter, and the chanting faded. Even Rusty’s mouth was gone. All sounds and sensations, except the flickering candlelight, faded away. There was Casper, their new Usado, like a puppet on a stick, impaled, still, and standing. And all the members present, all 32 of them, knelt in two rows of circles surrounding him - all pleased.
After maybe thirty minutes, four well-toned members went to the exhausted naked boy. They unclasped his hands from his slave collar, and his arms fell limply to his sides. The collar was removed for now. Casper moaned. Instead of lowering the pole he was pegged on, they gently and in precise unison slowly lifted the boy, easing him off it. He was awake; he was fine, just totally drained. He allowed himself to be maneuvered as they wanted him to be.
And he was carried just a few feet to a thin, tan mat on the floor and set there. It was likely uncomfortable.
But this was by design. The boy needed to get used to and accept being a little uncomfortable. They placed him on his back, with his arms and legs out to the four corners of the mat, in a spread-eagled position. Casper was in a mental cloud, staring blankly, letting his mind catch up to all the erotic input he had been receiving. The boy soon sleepily resettled himself more comfortably in a fetal position. The four men repositioned him on his back in the spread-eagled form that he needed to get used to, even at rest, even in his sleep. This was the only position he was permitted to sleep in from now on. He would learn that in time. Paul knew every step of Casper’s training would take time, and the members of Greys had all the time in the world. Soft red cotton ropes were attached to rings on the floor as a training device and gently looped around his wrists and ankles several times. To emphasize his need to learn to always display his dick and balls additional red rope was wrapped around each thigh to help keep his legs in their new proper display position. He was still in a daze, looking out to space when his eyes closed as he fell into a deep sleep. One might think they would have covered his naked body with a blanket or, at least, a sheet. But that was not going to happen.
Each of the 32 client members got up, one by one, and went over to the sleeping boy, their new Usado, and kissed him. Each would place a kiss wherever he wanted. Most kissed his dick, balls, tits, belly, or mouth. And as each one left a kiss, that member left the room and went home. Soon, Paul and a couple of the others, Simon and Morgan, were alone with him. Paul said, “We’ll wake him soon. I’ll drive him to my place where he left his motorcycle. He can finish sleeping there. In the morning, he’ll be able to drive himself home.”
Morgan, usually in charge of initial training, reflected, “Yes, we could have a fine new usado. We will leave him alone for ten days before we contact him or allow him to contact us. He will be clear-headed then and able to decide whether to reject or accept our offer.”
“If I read him correctly, and I always do,” Paul said, “that ‘away’ period will have him re-living his experiences here, climbing the walls, yearning to drink every bit of submissive erotic torture we can give him. He will come to love our ropes, binding straps, hoods, gags, and even how we lock up his dick when he eventually goes home. We gave him a taste; he will soon be famished for the feast.”
Morgan added, “Yes, the ‘Brinks #K9’ is what he will wear at home.” The other two men nodded, knowing that that cock locking device was impossible to be removed by the wearer. It is made in Scandinavia and is only sold on the black market. The tamper-proof material it is made of and the way it is secured around the dick to prevent erections is quite different from any other male chastity devices out there.
“Do you really think he needs or wants the money THAT badly? And don’t forget, he is straight.” Simon chimed in.
Paul knew exactly where Casper would be coming from, “Oh, he does need a paying job, no doubt. And ‘straight’? … Well, most of our other boys were ‘straight’ too. No, he has a hunger to explore and develop his submissive side, his submissive core. It will become imperative to him to be used, bound, controlled, pushed, and even humiliated. Morgan, why don’t you go ahead and design a Phase One plan of training for Casper. If all goes well, it’ll start in ten days.” Morgan nodded, knowing “Phase One” was the title when a new Usado was to be trained that “its dick” was not his to play with any longer or even touch. Any erotic energy that el usado developed at home was to be stored up for exploitation by club members. A pent-up and erotically frustrated “boy,” made a compliant, eager-to-please, desperate-to-please, Usado.
As it turned out, Paul was, indeed, correct. Even before the ten-day think-it-over period was over, Paul had received several panicky phone messages on his machine from Casper in which he was begging for the job. In one of those messages Casper left, he exposed his desperation, “Look, I’ll do a good job, whatever you want; I can even work for less, just pay me what you think is fair, but I really need the job, Please? Oh, please?”
Those calls, as well as a couple of knocks on Paul’s door, went unanswered. Paul wanted Casper to wait ten days to build up as much anxiety and animalistic desire as a young man could. Casper was frantic that he might be rejected. He did not sleep much during that time of being incommunicado. On the 10th day, Casper received a call from Paul, who did not want him to know how much the club wanted him. He spoke to Casper as if he barely got accepted.
“Well … it looks like you are in. We had some other wonderful candidates who seemed more willing to comply and submit than you. But you got 51% of the vote. So you are hired.” Casper was shaking in relief. “Just remember, you can be replaced whenever you resist the will or desire of just one club member.” Paul was lying, of course; the club was more excited to have him than he was about being “had.”
Paul told him to come to Greys Men’s Club that night at eight pm and that he would be “housed” there for two weeks of Phase One training. Then Paul gave him the rules: He was not to touch his dick from now on. He was to ride his motorcycle there completely naked, except for boots and helmet. He was required to bring nothing with him, no clothes, wallet, cell, money, toothbrush … nothing. The trainers would provide all he needed.
Casper cried and had difficulty controlling himself as he thanked Paul so much; he repeatedly and profusely thanked him as he continued to bawl. Finally … Casper regained his composure and ended the conversation happily, “I’ll see you at eight pm, Sir.”
The End