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This night had been a long time coming and Charlie knew that David had gone to a lot of trouble to make it happen. He knew because David loved nothing more than bending his ear off about what a fucking headache it was trying to find a decent place with discreet patrons who could keep their mouths shut about all the filthy things that Charlie loved to get up to. Because Charlie was a dirty whore, disgusting and depraved, little better than an animal really. Never mind that this whole thing was David’s idea. He was the one with the gangbang fantasy. He was the one who’d spent months talking Charlie around to it, step by step, kink by kink, drawing him out until he had nothing left to hide. Charlie didn’t want, he acted on David’s wants, and David wanted this.

Proceedings started at 8 o’clock on the dot. Charlie was sitting on the sofa, half-watching TV as he ambled aimlessly around the web, when David strode into the room, switched the TV off and yanked the wireless router from the wall. Charlie looked up, confusion shifting quickly to anger.

“What the—”

“Don’t say anything I’m going to have to punish you for,” David warned.

Charlie felt that familiar prickle of anticipation settle over his skin. That voice, that authoritative tone, Charlie found himself in a very specific headspace whenever David adopted it. It was like all of the freewill was sucked out of him and he was suddenly humble and vulnerable and far too suggestible. He felt physically smaller as he looked up at David, shutting his mouth firmly and waiting.

David let him wait, let him stew for long, dragging moments. It gave Charlie a chance to reflect on how utterly pathetic he was, folding so easily because David’s voice had fallen lower, more deliberate, just slightly sharp around the edges. He was conditioned, like a lab rat or a twisted scientist’s domestic pet. He was trained to react in certain ways to certain stimulus, to go docile according to David’s will, and it scared him how absolutely natural it had become. Even when he was screaming inside his head, he never could stop himself from kneeling down.

“You need to have a shower,” David told him. “I’m taking you out tonight.”

“Out?” Charlie asked.

David nodded. “Close the laptop.”

Charlie shut the lid and then looked down at it, as though surprised by his own body for following instructions so blindly. He was voice activated like some kind of futuristic sexbot. David smirked at his obedience.

“Where are we going?” Charlie asked him.

“Bathroom,” David instructed. “Shower.”

“No, I...”

“I’m fully aware of what you meant, Charlie,” David replied wearily. “One step at a time. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Charlie nodded. With a sigh, he put his laptop down on the coffee table and stood up, heading towards the bathroom. He noticed that David was following after him. As he reached the bathroom door he stopped, casting David a curious look.

“You gonna join me?” he asked.

“No,” David replied. “Just watch.”

Charlie paused. He felt on display already and he wasn’t even naked yet. The thought of David watching him do something as intrinsically private and mundane as showering seemed so much more exposing than wanking for David’s amusement or bending over and getting fucked. He felt like David was crawling inside his skull and it made him shift uncomfortably on his feet.

“Today, Charlie,” David stated impatiently. “I have plans tonight. I’d like to leave the house sometime before midnight.”

Charlie pushed the bathroom door open. He stripped without looking at David, turning on the water and sticking his hand under the stream to check the temperature before stepping under. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, running his hands through his hair until it was thoroughly saturated, trying not to think about the way the water caressed him as it slid over his naked body.

David leant against the sink, arms crossed over his chest, watching Charlie through the glass screen of the shower. His gaze was vaguely critical as he watched Charlie squirting shower gel onto his skin and rubbing it until bubbles frothed over him. Occasionally, he would offer suggestions or instructions, telling Charlie to use a little more soap or wash a certain area again, to scrub his skin until it tingled and came alive.

“You need to be very clean,” David told him. “Make yourself as presentable as possible for all the people who are going to be fucking you.”

Charlie felt himself freeze at that, his throat seeming to swell around words that he was sure he’d choke on. David’s attention was enough to get him half-hard, but now this promise, this display of intentions, he felt his groin swell, his skin flush, felt dizzy and giddy and apprehensive and like he wanted to crumple to the floor and be taken care of. David would take care of him. He’d be disappointed though. Charlie didn’t want to be a disappointment.

David was looking right at Charlie’s dick, tilting his head in amusement. “Yes, I thought you’d like that idea. I’m going to take you out and show everyone what a filthy little whore you are. And you’re going to love it, love every second of it. All that dick, filled in from both ends, helpless, gagging, moaning, trapped. Does that seriously turn you on? Sucking a stranger’s dick? Getting fucked like you’re nothing? Being used as a piece of meat? I suppose it’s all you are essentially. At least you’re perceptive enough to know your place.”

Charlie stared at him. His dick was throbbing. He was sure his voice would crack if he tried to speak. And what was he going to say anyway? Yes, I want that, want to be fucked, want a cock in every hole, want to be used like a bitch and a slut and a thing. Yes, I know my place, it’s the place where you put me. You created the hole for me to crawl into, why are you so surprised when I scurry down here to the filth?

“You’re not finished,” David said. “More soap. Head to toe, Charlie. Don’t let me down.”

When David was finally satisfied with his level of cleanliness, he held a towel out for Charlie as he stepped out of the shower. They walked together to the bedroom and Charlie noticed the outfit carefully laid out at the foot of the bed. It was unarguably some of Charlie’s least scummy clothes. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being dressed like some kind of doll.

David reached down and Charlie expected to be handed the first item to put on. When David straightened up, all that was in his hand was a bottle of lubricant. He held it out to Charlie.

“You might want to make sure you’re nice and open before we get there,” he suggested. “I shouldn’t imagine they’re going to be very patient with you.”

Charlie took the lube. “Are you going to help me?”

“No,” David stated simply, giving Charlie a look that clearly told him to get on with it. Charlie hesitated.

Will you help me?” he appealed instead.

“This is your job, Charlie,” David told him. “This is what I would like you to do.”

Charlie nodded. His eyes travelled from the lube to the bed and back to David.

“If you’d rather not, we can skip this step,” David offered. “You might regret it when you’re all tight and dry and that first cock is being forced up your arse. I suppose it’s your decision though. I don’t really give a fuck, Charlie. It’s a hole and it’s going to be used, over and over and over, whether you make yourself ready for it or not. I’m giving you the option to make things more comfortable for yourself. Of course, maybe you don’t want to be comfortable. Maybe you want to be screaming in agony in front of all those strangers. Maybe you like the pain, like that broken, used up feeling. You really are one sick little puppy, Brooker.”

Charlie shook his head. His cheeks were burning with shame. He wouldn’t deny that a little bit of pain might get him off in the right situation, but not like that. The thought made him clench up, made his stomach churn with a vague, far off nausea.

“Fucked in the head,” David said with a smile. He made it sound almost affectionate, even as the words caused Charlie to shrink away with embarrassment. “Are you fingering yourself or not?”

“Yes,” Charlie admitted.

David reached out, giving Charlie’s towel a yank and making it fall to the floor, leaving Charlie standing there damp and naked. When Charlie didn’t move, David just looked at him expectantly until he climbed onto the bed, spreading his legs as he laid on his back.

Charlie didn’t have the confidence for exhibitionism. He knew that he didn’t look good, knew that his body wasn’t buff or particularly desirable. Age had made him soft in all the wrong places but had failed to make his face grow out of that awkward battle it had been waging with itself his whole life. If anything, it just looked more caved in than ever. He was not a sex symbol or a porn star. His body really didn’t bear being looked at for any length of time. He could only guess that the faces he pulled during sex made him look even more hideous than usual. As such, being put on display always peeled away the layers to stab at his most painful insecurities.

He slicked up his fingers, David joining him on the bed, sitting between Charlie’s thighs. Charlie tried to ignore the heavy weight in his stomach. David wanted this. David wanted him to make a total cunt of himself by sticking his own fingers up his arse and making himself squirm and priming himself up for his own humiliation. Because this was just the tip of the iceberg, Charlie reminded himself. This was nothing compared to wherever David had finally decided it was safe to take him.

Charlie reached down, closing his eyes as he trailed a wet finger over his hole. He gritted his teeth, feeling his body recoil in horror from his own touch. The snide thought occurred to him that he should be more than used to his own touch by now, but this wasn’t masturbation, wasn’t designed for pleasure. Sex had become so much more than coming since he and David started this dance. Orgasm was the furthest thing from his mind as he pressed his finger down again, letting the tip dip slightly inside him.

He jumped when he felt David’s fingers on his ankle, his body giving a violent jolt. He closed his eyes tighter, pushing his finger steadily deeper. David’s fingers gently stroked Charlie’s ankle, a silent encouragement as Charlie finally managed to push his finger all the way in. Charlie liked the touch, like the familiarity and the subtle reminder of who was in charge, who Charlie was doing this for. He let that thought lead him as he thrust his finger in and out, his body slowly easing as it got used to the sensation, accepted it for what it was. When he had two fingers inside him, he opened his eyes, lust and mortification at what he was doing swilling around inside him.

“David,” he breathed, eyes searching.

“Shh,” David soothed. “No talking. Just concentrate on what you’re doing. Get yourself nice and open. You have to relax, let go of the tension. When you’ve got three fingers up there, moving smooth and easy, then I’ll know you’re ready for it. Take your time because no one else is going to look after you tonight. If you act like a whore you get treated like a whore and nobody respects a whore, Charlie. Nobody looks out for a whore. They fuck a whore hard and fast and rough, just like they deserve. And the whore loves it. You love it, don’t you, Charlie? So get yourself ready now because you won’t have time to breathe once I get you there.”

Charlie let out an urgent breath, looking up at the ceiling and then back at David, before closing his eyes again. Words like that made his skin crawl and his heart race and his dick throb powerfully. He moved his fingers inside himself faster. It felt good, but it felt mechanical as well. It felt like a means to an end and he wasn’t sure he wanted to get to that end too quickly.

Still, he felt like he could read between the lines of what David was saying to him. He was giving him some quiet time, giving him a monotonous task to focus his mind, because this was as much about getting his mind ready to be fucked by multiple strangers as it was getting his body ready for it. He took measured breaths as his fingers moved and he let everything slow down.

This was safe, he was sure of that, David would never take any undue risks, but he still wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He wanted this, he knew that, wanted to find out, but he didn’t trust his own desires anymore. David had taken him far past that point. This particular scene was something that David had planted the seed for a long time ago and Charlie tried to think back, tried to recapture his true thoughts on the scenario, but then he realised that it didn’t matter.

This wasn’t about him and it wasn’t about David, it was about whatever this was they’d created between them, the trust that led to something they’d never be able to capture on their own. Charlie might be the one getting whored out to random strangers for David’s apparent amusement, but they were doing this together. Another experience to share. If David didn’t touch him any more than that teasing tickle of fingers against his ankle, it didn’t change the fact that this was between the two of them. Charlie didn’t need to know his own mind. David would tell him what to think when it was time.

He slid a third finger inside his body, groaning at the uncomfortable stretch. He tensed up around it, grimacing slightly. He needed to push through it, open himself up, prove that he was ready. His slick fingers slid out and then pushed back in again, another groan forced from his lips. He twisted his wrist, putting strain on the ring of muscles that was protesting the invasion. His body could be conquered far easier than his mind and he could feel the give already.

Charlie’s free hand fidgeted on the bed beside him, desperate to join in, to wrap around his cock that throbbed and strained against his stomach. He knew that it wasn’t his place to make that decision though and there seemed little point in asking. He wasn’t supposed to be getting off on this. The fact that he was only proved how utterly depraved he was. Cringe-worthy moans were beginning to spill from his lips. He felt himself shrinking away as his hand moved slickly inside him.

“That’s enough,” David said firmly.

Charlie’s hand stuttered as he struggled to make it stop. After a moment’s hesitation he managed to still it, but it felt as though his muscles had stopped working and he couldn’t seem to pull it out. David’s hand that was on his ankle suddenly moved to his wrist and gently but firmly pulled until Charlie’s fingers slid out of his arse, leaving him wet and gaping open in a slightly disconcerting way. He was panting and dizzy. David smiled, looking pleased.

“Get dressed,” he told Charlie. “I’m going to phone a taxi.”

He stood up, leaving Charlie alone on the bed. Charlie resisted the urge to reach out and grab for him. He needed to do what he was told. He needed to work out how to sit up. His body felt like it was made of lead, his fingers and toes numb.

“Try to be quick,” David told him. “I want you still shivering when you climb into the back of that cab.” He offered Charlie a predatory look before heading out of the room.


Charlie’s head felt fuzzy, his skin too sensitive. As he walked to the taxi, the brush of his clothes felt like knife-edges against his flesh and every movement reminded him of how stretched open his arse was, loose and gaping and ready. It felt obscene and it was making him walk funny. Like a duck. A duck who’d just been fucked by a railroad spike.

David opened the taxi door for him, nodding for him to climb inside. Sitting down felt even stranger and he shifted uncomfortably on the seat. David smirked at him as he sat down beside him. He gave an address to the driver and then shifted closer to Charlie, their thighs touching enticingly. As the taxi started to move, David reached across, placing his hand casually against Charlie groin.

David looked away, out of the window, watching the streets go by with apparent indifference. He pressed his hand down more firmly against Charlie, pushing the zipper of his jeans into his dick, summoning up a delicious friction. Charlie whimpered. David turned to give him a stern look and Charlie understood it was the only warning he’d receive. He chewed on his lip, trying to look apologetic. David pressed his hand down again, harder this time, and then turned his attention back out of the window.

For the remainder of the journey, a torturous fifteen minutes, David rubbed him through his jeans, a pressure that was verging on harsh, a rhythm that was frustratingly slow. Charlie was hard and straining against the confines of his pants. His dick throbbed constantly, his balls heavy, and he couldn’t help shuffling about on his seat. He felt like he was stuck in a dark corner of his mind, embarrassment colouring his cheeks as his eyes flicked from the taxi driver, so close, a possible witness to his depravity, to David who didn’t even seem to think him worthy of looking at, to his own crotch, the tented denim of his jeans covered by David’s fingers, gripping and chafing, putting him in his place. Just an object, an easy little whore, a source of endless amusement in his desperation.

Charlie shifted again, pushing his hips upwards. He knew that he was leaking, droplets of precome dribbling from his tip, and he was starting to feel damp. He hoped there wasn’t a wet patch. It was too dark to tell. David would love that though, having him parade around with his arousal staining his pants. God, he wondered if he stunk of it. He wondered if the taxi driver could smell it now. He shifted again, hoping they were nearly there, wherever they were going.

He could hear David’s mocking voice in his head, needling at his doubts, and he hated how he didn’t even have to say a word to get to him now. David would say he was pathetic. He’d say he was a slut. He’d say that everybody knew it. He’d say that Charlie wore it like a badge and everyone looked down on him for it. People could tell when he walked down the street, could tell when he bought his shopping from the supermarket, could tell when he was in important meetings, could tell when they saw him on TV.

Right now he’d be telling him how completely indecent it was for him to be sitting there, so close to a stranger, getting off, squirming with it. Didn’t he have any shame? It was disgusting. He was so common, his dick hard and needy and his arse ready for a good whoring. And he’d take it right here in the back of this cab, wouldn’t he? He’d let David fuck him right here, in front of the driver, because that’s how desperate for it he was. That’s how easy he was. In fact, he’d probably ask the driver to join in, beg him to fuck his mouth, because he never could get enough cock, could he? That’s why David had to resort to taking him to places like this.

The taxi stopped and David’s hand was gone in an instant, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. Charlie suddenly found himself back in the moment, dragged from his floating fantasy. Fuck, why did he do this to himself? David would degrade him enough in a minute, he didn’t need to start off in his own fucking head. But the words were David’s, whether he’d said them or not. He was in there, poking at his brain, making him unravel. Plant the seed, watch it grow. He was a seriously clever fucker.

David paid the driver and out they climbed, onto to what looked like a fairly non-descript street. Charlie looked around as the taxi drove away. He wondered which of these buildings was hiding a dirty little secret.

“This way,” David said, beginning to walk. “It’s just a five minute walk or so.”

“Five minutes?” Charlie asked, moving to catch up with him. “Why did we get out here then? Surely the point of a taxi is that it takes you where you want to go.”

“Discretion, Charlie,” David told him. “A concept I know you struggle with. You’d do it here if I let you, wouldn’t you? Maybe I should put you on a street corner. At least that way you’d make me a bit of money. Earn your keep.”

Charlie’s cheeks heated again. Walking felt even more wrong now, his hard on rubbing against his jeans with each step. He looked down. It was painfully obvious. “Can I...?”

“What?” David asked, looking towards him.

“I just...” He nodded towards his crotch. David looked down and then met his eyes again. He was going to make him say it. Charlie shifted on his feet, grimacing at the sensation it sent through his cock. “Can I... try and make it a little less obvious?”

“It would be useful if you weren’t so absolutely gagging for it and had a little bit of self-control and decorum,” David stated. “As you clearly have neither then go ahead.”

He looked at Charlie expectantly. Charlie glanced nervously up and down the street. There wasn’t really anyone around, but he didn’t exactly want to go shoving his hand down his pants. Someone could appear at any moment. He wanted to make a snide comment about David’s supposed discretion, but he thought better of it. He thrust his hand clumsily into his underwear, fingers closing around his cock and pulling it upwards so that it fit against the line of his body, using the waistband of his boxers to hold it in place.

"Had to use that trick a lot, have you?” David asked critically, amusement written all over his face. Charlie just averted his eyes.

As they began to walk again, every step seemed to shake through Charlie’s body, reverberating through his cock, his balls, his arse. Everything was skewed in a sexual way, the simple act of walking down a street offering him a constant, inescapable reminder of just what he was, what he let David do to him.


David pushed open the heavy door. There was no sign outside, no clues to what lie within. Charlie wondered how David had even managed to find this place. They stepped into a lobby area, a desk at one side with a large man sitting behind it, a couple of leather chairs at the other. It was clean and unassuming. They could have been anywhere. Maybe they were. Maybe David was just fucking with him and this wasn’t really going to happen.

“Sit,” David instructed.

Charlie felt a shiver go through him, his head bowing down as though it were heavy. David was well and truly under his skin, so much so that Charlie swore he could feel him crawling around in there. He moved over to the chairs, sitting gingerly down and watching as David went to speak to the man at the desk. His voice was hushed and Charlie couldn’t hear what he was saying but he could tell from the way the man kept glancing over that they were talking about him. He felt his cheeks heat as he tried to slink down in the chair. After a few moments, David walked back over to him.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Um.” Charlie looked up at him. His dick was throbbing but he could feel the muscles in his face turning down into a frown. He felt stuck in place, the link between his mind and body broken. He had no idea how to stand up.

“Charlie?” David said, looking down at him. He waited for some kind of a response but Charlie just stared dumbly back at him. David shifted on his feet, his stance suddenly more welcoming. “Do I need to take you home?” he asked, voice soft and genuine, not at all angry, but it made Charlie cringe anyway. He shook his head. “Then you need to stand up,” David told him firmly.

Charlie nodded. He was well aware of that fact. He just wasn’t entirely sure how to make it happen. He held his arm out towards David, an apologetic look on his face. David placed both hands around Charlie’s forearm, levering him up and onto his feet. One hand slid up to Charlie’s shoulder, steadying him as he got his bearings.

“Are we alright?” David asked.

Charlie nodded. “Sorry,” he said, his voice cracking pathetically on the single word.

David gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You need to focus, Charlie. It’s not time to go off in your head. I know how much you love it in there with your filthy thoughts and your wanton little sexual fantasies. You’re always on your knees in there, aren’t you? Always ready and willing and begging for it. Always getting what you deserve. But I need you to stay with me for now. At least until I get you on your knees for real. Understand?”

Charlie nodded again, automatically taking his bottom lip between his teeth. His dick was positively rigid with the pictures David was painting. He was definitely on his knees in there. And David was always standing over him.

David’s hands left him then as he gave a nod towards a door. Charlie swallowed. He started to move, David’s hand going to the small of his back, a steady, possessive touch to guide him. It made Charlie feel able to put one foot in front of the other. He reached out, the door handle cold against his palm. He turned it, pushing the door tentatively open. A short staircase swept around to a grand looking set of double doors.

Stairs, Charlie thought regrettably. He wasn’t sure he could coordinate himself down stairs. He was feeling more than a little light headed. David increased the pressure against his back, pushing him forward, not giving him a choice. Charlie gripped the handrail, focusing on what he was doing and taking it one step at a time.

David closed the door behind them and it occurred to Charlie that they were hidden here, held in a protective bubble, just the two of them, before everything became a show again. If he had anything to say, anything real and vulnerable and not in the game, he should say it now. This was his last chance. Doubts swilled around his head, but he found himself with nothing to say. He wanted this at least as much as it terrified him. He wanted to see it through and find out what happened.

They reached the second set of doors and Charlie pushed them open, David not giving him chance to pause before pushing him inside. It was a large space, deep red walls and lots of nooks and crannies, different spaces to play in. There were separate rooms too, doors open and welcoming. Nothing was hidden away. Everything was on display.

The bar area was the first thing they came to and Charlie wondered at the wisdom of making alcohol available in a place with lots of very painful implements. There was plenty of seating, soft and decadent, and low music was playing, setting a mood but not intruding. The floor looked wipe clean. Charlie thought that was probably a good idea. He tried very hard not to look at the people, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering. There was leather and rubber and dress-up and things that were frankly weird. There were people in normal clothes like he and David too, but they seemed few and far between. Charlie felt freakish in his normalcy.

David pushed again, leading him through the room, and Charlie bowed his head, staring at his feet and the black floor. It felt safer that way. David directed him to a quiet area towards the back of the room. There was an alcove, more or less closed in, offering a degree of privacy, but it was still open to the main room, could still be seen by anyone who wanted to crane their necks in that direction or wander over.

The hand slid from the small of his back, over his hip, before falling away completely as David moved around to stand in front of him. Charlie shivered. He couldn’t stop staring at the floor.

“Kneel,” David told him, his voice straightforward and authoritative.

Charlie’s eyes slowly crept upwards until he could look at David’s face. Too many thoughts were clamouring for attention inside his head. Was he going to refuse? Did he want to refuse? Was this all going too quickly? It’s not like he wanted to sit down and have a drink first. No, this was right, he trusted David’s judgement. This was the right time. He was in the headspace, no doubt about it, and he might be apprehensive, but that was only because of all the fucking strangers. Fucking strangers who’d be fucking him in a minute. The thought sent an odd kind of thrill through him. He sunk down to his knees.

David smiled, clearly pleased. “I need you to stay here,” he said, reaching down with a hand and running it through Charlie’s hair, petting him. Like a dog, Charlie thought, but he moved into the touch anyway, made a pleased noise. “I’m going to go and talk to some people, ask around, see who feels like bending you over and fucking you until you scream. Does that sound good, you pathetic little slut? Being forced to fucking take it?”

Charlie was shrinking back down inside himself again. He closed his eyes, leaned his head against David’s fingers. He felt squirmy, felt needy, felt himself being lowered down into that dark, dirty place that only David could take him to. He wanted comfort and he wanted pain and he wanted to be denied, set aside, made to fucking beg for it. He despised himself when he was like this, such disgusting base instincts, the knowledge that he’d do anything for it, but it gave him such a buzz, a spectacular range of emotions that he could never reach any other way. It made him feel alive.

David gave his head a sharp little shove, forcing him out of himself with a jolt. He opened his eyes, the soft lighting suddenly startling to him.

“I asked you a question, Charlie,” David prompted. “I asked if you enjoyed being forced to take it? It, of course, in this instance, being a stranger’s cock rammed up your arse, fucking you so deep you’ll probably be feeling it all week. And that’s just the beginning. It won’t stop there. Your mouth will be filled as well until your jaw is aching and your throat is sore. I say until, I shouldn’t imagine anyone’s actually going to stop and take pity on you because you’re feeling a little bit sorry for yourself. If you think anyone gives a fuck about your feelings, you’re sadly mistaken. You’re not really a person to them, just something to stick their dicks in. You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being really, certainly a pathetic excuse for a man. I mean look at you, there, kneeling on the floor where everyone can see you. And they can see you, Charlie. They can see you and they’re going to watch you and they’re going to judge you. Everyone in this whole place is going to know just what a filthy, desperate whore you are. Everyone is going to look down on you, sneer at you, treat you with the disregard you deserve. And so I’d like you to answer my question, Charlie. Is that something that you want?”

Charlie’s head was bowed down again, his hands clasped in front of him. Shame was creeping into every corner of his being. He felt tiny, insignificant. His instinct was to lean forward, nuzzle against David’s crotch, beg to be touched and held. He didn’t move though. He forced himself to remain where he was, remain where David had put him.

“Yes,” he admitted, voice cracking and eyes watering. “I want that. Please.”

“Good boy,” David praised. “You wait here, just like that. I’m going to see how many people I can find who might be interested in a whore like you.”


Charlie followed David with his eyes as he walked away. He felt kind of stupid, kneeling there on the floor. He felt embarrassingly turned on by it too though. He loved it when David made him kneel, loved it when he was left there until his knees were aching and his dick was rock hard and he was ready to literally beg for it. Once David had made him kneel in a corner for 3 hours, staring at the bland paintwork and listening to David tapping away at his keyboard. Charlie was the prize he got for finishing his column, the little incentive he offered himself. Charlie’s feelings, Charlie’s wants, didn’t factor into the equation. It was an entirely selfish move on David’s part and Charlie had never been so turned on in his life.

Well, except maybe now as he watched David walk up to a couple, saying something to the burly man and nodding his head towards Charlie. Charlie instantly blushed and averted his eyes as the man looked over, considering him like a farmer might a piece of livestock. Charlie bowed his head and curled his toes inside his shoes. His skin crawled with humiliation. His dick throbbed with arousal. He couldn’t decide what would be worse, this anonymous man deciding to give Charlie a good fucking just for the fun of it, thrusting inside him with sickening indifference, or giving a shake of his head and deeming Charlie unfit to sodomise, even if he was being handed over on a plate. Both possibilities made something in Charlie’s gut twist.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched David walk away and approach someone else, a man on his own. Had the couple said no? Weren’t they interested? What if everyone said no? What if they all said ‘Actually, thanks, but we don’t really want to fuck your middle-aged, walrus-faced twat of a boyfriend. There’s much better goods on offer around here. Take a look around and tell me you’re honestly happy going back home with that.’

The man David was speaking to was looking Charlie over, saying something contemplative to David, and Charlie stared at the floor, black and almost soft looking. Not linoleum. Rubber maybe? It was dull and it looked warm to the touch. He was tempted to reach out his hand and test out that theory but he knew he wasn’t supposed to move.

David would be gutted if this didn’t work out, if no one was willing to fuck Charlie for him so that he could watch like the sick little pervert Charlie knew the world would never believe he was. And then David would be disappointed, not with Charlie as such, Charlie who’d been willing to give it a go, had come this far with him, but disappointed with the situation. He’d look at Charlie and he’d start to see what they saw. Charlie might be well trained, but he knew he was no prize catch, not in the great scheme of things. David could always do better if David wanted to. If he realised that fact with any great clarity, Charlie would be out the door in no time. He rarely came unless David told him to anymore. If David wasn’t there to tell him, maybe Charlie would never come again.

He tilted his head, refusing to let his vision be obscured by tears as his body seemed to tighten up around him. He felt vulnerable, fragile, exposed. He wanted David to come back. He wanted to be taken care of. He wanted to grab hold of him and make him promise all of the things that Charlie needed to hear, even if he wasn’t sure what those things were himself.

David was gone a long time, or at least it felt like a long time. Charlie wondered if he was deliberately leaving him hanging, making him squirm and overflow with wriggly little doubts. Charlie kept his eyes fixed on the floor, trying to appear patient, or at the very least obedient. He was being good. David must at least be able to appreciate that.

When David did return, his hand landing on Charlie’s shoulder, Charlie couldn’t help but take a sharp intake of breath, his body threatening to flinch away. David just kept his hand there, sure and steady and commanding. Charlie looked up at him, everything feeling strangely off-kilter. David was alone, and it took Charlie a moment to realise what was wrong with that. Then he looked out into the club, a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Didn’t anyone...”

“I’ve found you some people,” David assured him, cupping the side of his face and carefully directing Charlie’s gaze to look only at him. “You don’t need to worry about that, Charlie. It’s not your place.”

Charlie nodded, accepting. His gaze fell down again. David’s hand left him and Charlie whimpered, eyes darting back up.

“Quiet,” David told him, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a piece of black material. It wasn’t until he was unfolding it that Charlie realised it was a blindfold.

“What’s that for?” he asked, unable to hide the edge in his voice.

“You spend too much time watching,” David told him. “Watching and thinking. It’s not good for you. All you need to do now is feel. Don’t go tying yourself up in knots with unuseful observations. The ‘who’ isn’t important and so I’m taking it out of the equation for you. Say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you,” Charlie parroted like some kind of moron.

David gave a nod and moved the blindfold towards Charlie who closed his eyes in acceptance. David pressed the material against his eyelids, wrapping it around and tying it snugly at the back of his head. It was soothing, in a strange kind of way, being smothered in blackness and having one less sense to throw doubts at him. Still, now he couldn’t see David, couldn’t seek him out for reassurance. He also couldn’t see whatever might be coming his way. Unease began to creep up his spine.

David’s hands hooked under his forearms. “We’re going to stand up now,” he stated, talking about them like they were a single entity. Charlie supposed they were, in a way, so much as David had complete control over both of them.

Charlie allowed himself to be pulled upwards, standing on heavy legs that felt like they might fold back under him. David’s hands slid away from his arms and Charlie tried to grab at them.

“Steady,” David told him. “It’s time to take your clothes off. They’re watching you. Show them what they’re getting.”

Charlie hesitated. “David?” he whispered.

“What is it?” David asked.

“Are they close?”

David paused and Charlie imagined him checking. “They’re getting closer,” he stated. “Hurry up.”

Charlie still didn’t move. “I...”

“You’re thinking,” David stated, irritation clear in his voice. “You don’t need to think. Take off your clothes, Charlie. If I have to do it for you, I’m going to be rather upset.”

The words made a shudder roll through Charlie. If he didn’t cooperate, was David really going to pull his clothes off and throw him down and hand him over anyway? It seemed so callous. David wasn’t callous. An evil bastard, perhaps, but not callous. Charlie made a pathetic little noise in the back of his throat. He was aware of David moving, a ghost of a touch against his torso, a breath against his ear.

Stop. Thinking.

Each word was carefully enunciated and seriously lacking in patience. Charlie nodded. He slipped his jacket from his shoulders, David catching it and taking it away.

“Keep going,” he encouraged. “Everything.”

Charlie took a breath and then pulled his T-shirt upwards, dragging the material over his flesh, raising goosebumps in its wake. It caught on the blindfold slightly at he yanked it over his head. The air wasn’t exactly cold against his bare skin, but he felt very aware of his state of undress. He wondered who was watching. He felt hideously on display.

Toeing off his trainers, he reached down to the waistband of his jeans, toying with the button. He could be accused of teasing, but he was just being a coward, or maybe suffering from a misplaced sense of modesty. It was an emotion he had no right to, David had made that clear to him on several occasions. Ideas above his station did not make him attractive. He needed to do what he was told and shut his dirty fucking mouth.

He pushed the button through the hole, pulling down the zipper. He left his boxers in place for now, black and tight, highlighting just how unsuitable he was for underwear modelling. He tried not to think about that, not to think about what he must look like, standing there, unsteady and bent over as he tried to get his jeans over his feet, pulling his socks down at the same moment. Undressing was rarely sexy or erotic, just necessary.

Free of all other incumbents, Charlie hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, breathing in deeply through his nose until his lungs were fit to burst. He breathed out in a long sigh, determined to push his underwear down, but he couldn’t make himself move. He could feel eyes on him, and not knowing if they were real or imagined made everything worse. He didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know how many there were, didn’t know where the first onslaught was going to come from or when.

He heard David shift on his feet, or at least he assumed it was David. In his head, he was surrounded, and everyone wanted a piece of him. No one was going to ask, they were only going to take. That excited him more than he’d ever admit to himself. He pushed his boxers down, knowing his erection was jutting out embarrassingly, knowing that it was bouncing in a ludicrous way as he struggled out of his underwear. And then he was naked and blind and terrified and desperate. David’s hands touched his forearms again.

“We’re going to kneel again now,” he said, supporting Charlie’s weight as he helped him down. His jacket was gone now, Charlie noted, his hands touching David’s flesh where his short-sleeved shirt didn’t reach. He felt the floor beneath his knees and he let it take his weight. “And now we’re going onto all fours,” David told him, and Charlie felt himself pulled, guided, until his hands were somehow on the floor, sweating but not slipping. The floor seemed to grip him, hold him steady, as David retreated. Charlie bowed his head. He waited for it to happen.


Charlie heard a rustling beside him and he strained his ears to listen. He assumed it was David. He hoped it was David. Somehow the intimacy implied by sitting at his side seemed too familiar for a random stranger. He didn’t want them sitting next to him. He wanted them to take what they wanted and fuck off.

“Do you need more lube?”

Charlie almost sighed with relief when he heard David’s voice. There he was, calm and steady beside him. The words didn’t quite get through, but the tone did, and Charlie knew he’d been asked a question. He knew he had to answer. He tried to play the words over in his head again, desperate for them to make sense.

“It was a while ago that you did all that lovely fingering,” David went on. “Do you need some more?”

A while ago. It felt like another lifetime now, lying on the bed, David watching him as he stuck his own fingers up his arse. He probably did need more, but he couldn’t do that here. He could barely stand for David to watch him fuck himself on his fingers, let alone every kinky bastard in this perverted club. No, that wasn’t going to happen. The alternative didn’t seem particularly attractive either though.

“It’s very rude not to answer when someone asks you a question, Charlie,” David chided.

Then there were fingers up his arse, two of them, slick with too much cold lube, stabbing and rough. “Ow,” he gritted out before he could stop himself, tensing up around them.

“That doesn’t hurt,” David dismissed, the fingers twisting, going deeper, completely ignoring the way Charlie’s body was reacting.

The fingers, Charlie thought. Was David’s voice coming from the right angle to be doing that to him? Further panic scrambled up inside Charlie as his mind raced.

“Is... Is that you?” he asked breathlessly.

David gave a small laugh, a mocking laugh. “I would’ve thought you’d be able to tell by now.”

The fingers hooked inside him, dragged in a most deliciously taunting way, and Charlie nodded. “You,” he said, and David rewarded him with a little tickle of his prostate. He moaned, realising that he’d eased up, that his muscles had loosened, that he was ready for this. That his body was ready. His mind was still in about twenty different places at once.

David gave him a few more less than gentle thrusts and then his fingers slid out. Charlie realised that he was shaking. He was wide open, gaping, totally asking for it. David shifted beside him again. Hands landed on his hips, hands that definitely weren’t David’s, he was certain of that this time. His head span dangerously and he wound right back up into a tight little ball again.

“Wait,” he cried out.

He heard nothing from the people around him, David or this new person or whoever else might have been there, and he waited, waited to be ignored, taken anyway, but nothing happened so Charlie assumed David had put things on pause. He was offering him a moment’s grace, but Charlie was certain it would only be a moment. He needed to get his head straight.

“Why?” David asked, his voice beside Charlie’s ear, low and slightly unkind.

“What?” Charlie asked, feeling lost.

“Why, Charlie?” David repeated. “Why are we waiting?”

“Because, I... I’m not sure,” Charlie said.

“What aren’t you sure about?” David asked, sounding somewhat exasperated. “You’re not sure that you want this all of a sudden? You’re here, in this place, on your hands and knees like an animal, and you don’t want this? I did ask, Charlie. You had plenty of opportunities to say ‘no’. Now isn’t one of them.”

Charlie swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. He felt overwhelmed and he wanted to cry or sob or crumple or plead for forgiveness or maybe just be ignored and exploited anyway.

“I mean, you didn’t say ‘no’ when I told you to get in the shower, did you?” David asked. Charlie shook his head. “And you didn’t say ‘no’ when I suggested you finger yourself, did you?” Another shake of the head. “Yes, I’d say you quite enjoyed that part. Slutty little fingers up your arse. Moaning and writhing on that bed like a whore.”

Charlie cringed, screwing his eyes shut tight behind the blindfold. He hated that everyone could hear these words, hear just what he was.

“And you didn’t say ‘no’ when I phoned the taxi,” David continued. “Didn’t say ‘no’ when I asked you to get into it. You didn’t say ‘no’ when I rubbed your cock through your jeans in the back of the cab and you didn’t say ‘no’ when I walked you here with an erection and you didn’t say ‘no’ to kneeling or stripping or getting on your hands and knees like a dog. So are you really going to say ‘no’ now, Charlie? Are you really going to deny yourself who you are. Because I know you. I live inside your brain. I know that you want this. I know that you get off on being used, objectified, degraded. I know that you love being made to take it. And I know that you’re fighting this now because you want me to force you. You get off on that more than anything else. But I’m not going to, Charlie, because you already made your choice. You made this happen. And you might say you’re not sure, but you’re also not going to leave, are you?”

Charlie whimpered, shuddered, shook his head in surrender. He had nowhere left to hide with David.

“Good,” David said. “I suppose we’ll give you what you want then.”

The words echoed through Charlie’s head as he felt the hands grip him tighter, felt his hole breached, the cock shoved unceremoniously inside him. Give you what you want. David was so very clever in that he could give Charlie a mindfuck as well as an gangbang. He was putting the blame for all of this squarely on Charlie’s shoulders, forcing him to own it, and Charlie couldn’t come up with a single argument to defend himself.

Charlie gave a strangled moan, not sure if he was reacting to the stretch, the roughness, the wonderful sensation of fullness, or the mental effects of knowing that this was a stranger, someone he didn’t know or trust, someone he owed nothing to, someone who didn’t care about him and wasn’t going to make this good. It was good though, Charlie admitted to himself embarrassingly quickly. Nice cock, short but pretty thick, moving sure and steady in and out of him, sliding with a rhythm that refused to let him catch his breath. This man clearly wasn’t about to take his time. He was focused on one thing and one thing only and that was getting himself off. Charlie was fairly sure he shouldn’t be this turned on by the thought of being used as a convenient come receptacle.

David’s hand landed on top of Charlie’s, thumb rubbing against his wrist in that same comforting way he’d rubbed Charlie’s ankle while he was fingering himself. It made Charlie keen, made his thoughts flash to white.

“Oh, God,” Charlie moaned, feeling every thrust ricochet through his whole body.

“You should see yourself,” David said, words low and dirty in his ear. It was obvious they were designed just for Charlie now and not to humiliate him in front of all David’s new friends. “All flushed and sweaty and breathless and so very grateful. You love it. You can’t get enough. You’re a total disgrace, Brooker. You should be ashamed of yourself for being such an easy little whore, but I know you’re not. You’ll take it all and you’ll still beg for more.”

“Yes,” Charlie hissed, angling his hips wantonly, needing it deeper, better, more. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Filthy little mouth,” David chastised. “Need to shut you up.”

Charlie bit down on his lip, trying to stay quiet, not show himself up too much, but then the fingers of David’s other hand were under his chin, lifting his head up, and Charlie understood in a giddy instant.

“Open up,” David instructed.

Charlie did so, licking his lips before parting them wide. He stuck his tongue out slightly, edged himself minutely forward, impatient.

“Slut,” David scolded.

When Charlie moaned loud and full, despite the cock being pushed into his mouth, he was fairly sure he was proving David right.


Charlie sucked eagerly, groaning as the head of the cock bumped against the back of his throat. He angled his head upwards, did his best to take it deeper, even though he had no real control here. He licked when he could, but mostly he just concentrated on keeping up the suction, making it wet and tight. He was still being rammed into from behind, each powerful thrust shunting him forwards, further onto the cock in his mouth, causing a subtle but frequent gag. The rhythms of two men didn’t match up, both of them concentrating only on themselves, no one concentrating on him, and Charlie had no choice but to let himself be buffeted between them, taking everything they wanted to give him.

“This is a dream come true for you, isn’t it?” David taunted in his ear. “You’ve had actually fantasies about this. Have you sat there, Charlie, wanking over it? Yeah, I bet you have. I bet you’ve sat in your flat, hard dick grasped greedily in your hand, eyes closed, head back, just imagining it, imagining yourself being spit roasted, all full up of cock, because that’s the kind of thing you get off on, Charlie, I know it is. And now, here you are, taking it, and I bet you can hardly believe your luck.”

Charlie responded with a low noise in his throat, if only to acknowledge that he’d heard, that he was listening. He liked the sound of David’s voice, the intimacy of it so close to his ear. It was a comfort to have him there, even if he did seem determined to dismantle his brain piece by piece.

The man behind him began to pump harder, sharp, stabbing thrusts that made Charlie instinctively gasp, or at least try. It wasn’t very easy to gasp with a mouthful of cock. Really it was just a tightening of the diaphragm. It highlighted to Charlie how little air he was getting, urgent breaths through his nose that was sporadically shoved into wiry pubic hair. It wasn’t ideal, but he knew he couldn’t let himself panic. He wasn’t suffocating. Everything was fine. If he focused on it too much then he’d just make himself choke and ruin the whole mood. Or maybe David would like that, a little bit of suffering.

“You’re making such a show of yourself,” David said. “You’ve got a nice little audience here. Attentive. Watching while you hand yourself over. No self-respect, have you? Not even the audacity to blush. I suppose your blood flow’s a little busy elsewhere though, hmm?”

A hand ghosted over his cock, too light to even be considered a tease, more like fucking torture. His dick jumped enthusiastically anyway, springing in the air, so tight and hard and full. He curled his toes and tried to cry out against his mouthful, frowning. He could heard David chuckle lightly beside him.

“So desperate,” he said. “If I’d have known whoring you out would turn you on this much I would have done it a long time ago. Maybe we should make this a regular thing. What do you think? Give you what you crave? I’m good to you like that.”

The man behind him was rocking into him with abandon now, his pelvis slamming against Charlie’s arse, making obscene noises. He groaned, gripped Charlie tighter, came with a few more forceful shoves. Then he pulled out, he was gone, leaving Charlie even more open, stretched luridly wide now, and it felt dangerous. Was David really being good to him, giving him this? Was he really supposed to be grateful? He posed the question another way around in his head. Would he really ask them to stop if he could?

The answer was no. Unequivocally no. Another cock shoved it’s way inside him.

“Next time though, I think I’ll just leave you to it,” David continued. “Just tie you up and put a note on you, ‘free cock slut’ or something like that. Something honest and to the point. Then I’d go have a few pints while people had their way with you, did what they wanted with you, gave you what you deserved. I’d come back in a couple of hours maybe, when you were all dirty and used up. I’d make you tell me every detail, and you’d get off on that too.”

Charlie rocked helplessly between the two bodies using him, the two cocks that had him speared. Hands landed on his torso, hands that didn’t belong to David. It made something flip over inside him, something not entirely unpleasant. He could feel them everywhere, inside him and on him, fucking, stabbing, stroking, grabbing. And then there was David, gorgeous, sexy, domineering, bastard, meant-everything-to-him David, right there in his head where no one else could reach, where no one else could touch, controlling the whole thing with nothing more than words and that light touch of Charlie’s hand. He drowned everyone else out and made this feel intimate when it should be anything but.

He concentrated on the pictures David was painting for him, he couldn’t help it, felt as though he didn’t have a choice. He was floating, somewhere up in space, amongst the stars, the atmosphere tickling his skin. The cock in his mouth finished with him and was replaced by another, but he barely seemed to notice. Every physical sensation sent shivers through him, was almost too much, but he couldn’t differentiate between them anymore. The only thing he was certain of was David’s voice.

“Are you getting sore yet?” he asked. “Your dick looks sore. It’s gone sort of purple. You’re leaking all over yourself. How embarrassing. Thin strands like snail trails all over it. How about your arse, is that getting sore? I think I might fuck you tomorrow morning, first thing, see if I can get you squealing like a pig. It shouldn’t be hard. You’d probably just lap it up though. You love it when it hurts, when you can feel all of those combined fucks in one, I know you do. You’re absolutely not right in the head, Charlie.”

The cock in his arse finished now. There was only a couple of seconds of feeling gaping and empty before he was filled again. He concentrated on the place where he was floating, the images of David in his brain. He tried not to wonder how much longer this was going to go on for.

“I wonder what you’d be doing with yourself if you hadn’t found me,” David pondered. “I think I might have saved you from yourself, do you know that? I can give you what you need. I don’t know who else would be so patient, so understanding. Not everyone can love a whore. So you’re lucky. You’re very very lucky. You’re going say a very big thank you to me later.”

Charlie lapped up every word, believed all of it. He hadn’t felt lost before he’d met David, hadn’t considered anything as fucked up as this, but if David said Charlie was lucky, Charlie was happy to agree. Maybe David coaxed out the whore that he was currently mocking, maybe he created him in Charlie, but Charlie had absolutely no complaints about that. Charlie liked the person he’d become with David, disgusting vices and all.

The cock in the mouth was removed and Charlie let his head fall forward, gasping for air. His lungs burned with the sudden need for it, oxygen flooding his veins and somehow making him dizzier. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.

“Charlie,” David said, voice suddenly clearer. Charlie could tell that meant a command was coming instead of more scathing abuse. He tried his best to concentrate. “I need you to move with me. Follow my lead.”

Charlie nodded, didn’t try to talk. David’s hand left him and he panicked, his tether gone, his body threatening to float right out of the solar system. But then David’s firm hands were under his arms, gripping and pulling and Charlie just went with it, shaky and uncoordinated. He found his arms slung over David’s shoulders, his body more upright so that he was kneeling again. By rights all of his weight should have been on his unsteady legs now, but he leant into David instead, grabbed hold of him for dear life. David held him back, one hand stroking through his hair, the other rubbing circles into his back.

“We’re nearly there,” he told him, the words a breathy whisper right into his ear. “I need you to come back to me. Come out of your head. I’ve got you. Trust me.”

“David,” Charlie moaned, burying his face in David’s neck, breathing him in, letting that familiar scent ground him. He was still being fucked, harsh and impersonal, and the sensation overtook him for a moment as he let it all in again. He felt the twinges running through him, felt the discomfort in his arse, the tiredness in his jaw, the weariness of every last muscle in his body. He could feel it again, he was present, inhabiting the moment, and it made him feel slightly sick, the reality of it. He whimpered against David’s shirt collar.

“Don’t hide from it,” David told, voice still a whisper, still only for him. “You like it. It’s okay to like it. That’s why we’re here. You’re doing so well.”

Charlie hugged him tighter and he let all the other sensations in, the throbbing in his cock, the pleasantness of that slick sliding cock, the way his body was on a beautiful edge of pleasure held at bay for far too long. He thought about the people watching him, the people fucking him, the people who’d enjoyed him tonight. He thought about what he’d given them and what they’d given him, how they’d made him feel. Nothing was more spectacular than being literally taken out of yourself. He didn’t always manage to get to that place, the one where it was so overwhelming he didn’t even know which way was up anymore. He’d never been there like that before. David was definitely due a thank you. As soon as he worked out how the fuck to put two words together again.

The man behind him grunted, thrust into him powerfully, came with a series of noises that seemed to touch Charlie’s skin. Then he was gone. Charlie tensed, waited for more, but nothing happened. It was all just stillness, quiet, and David in his arms, holding him up, stopping him from slipping away.

“Is...” Charlie tried, but his tongue felt too big for his mouth and his brain was stuck on thoughts that were wholly too distracting. “Over?” he tried instead.

“Nearly,” David allowed. Charlie tried not to cringe. “Just one more thing,” David said. “I mean, we can’t leave you like that, can we? Might do yourself a permanent injury if your dick stays that hard for much longer.”

He moved, freeing one of his hands and pulling at Charlie’s arm, forcing it from around him. Charlie instinctively gripped tighter, but he was too weak to fight off David’s tug. He put his own hand on top of Charlie’s, palm up.

“Lick it for me,” he told him. “Get it nice and wet. Then I’ll get you off.”

Charlie nodded a little more eagerly than he intended to. He guided David’s hand up to his mouth and he licked across the palm, painting it with saliva. He sucked on the fingers, groaning around them. It wasn’t for show, instinct simply took over, and he licked and sucked and licked and sucked until David finally pulled his hand away.

“You really do enjoy the strangest things,” he said, sounding amused. “I wonder what you’d be like if I offered you my cock right now.” Charlie nodded. “No,” David told him. “Not now. Just this.”

His hand closed around Charlie’s cock, gripping tight, and Charlie cried out, stuttering and loud. His dick pulsed, threatening to come already, so close and painful and sensitive. He buried his head back in David’s neck, hung onto him with both hands, and rocked his hips shamelessly into the touch. He didn’t care what he looked like, didn’t care what he sounded like, he just needed this. His brain for some reason wanted to put that sentiment into words, but the muttering just sounded like he was talking in tongues. Even he didn’t know what he was trying to say.

David’s hand moved in a maddeningly wonderful rhythm, using his encyclopaedic knowledge of Charlie’s body to his clear advantage. Each stroke was offset with the after-effects of the evening, the soreness he felt all over him, the ache in his knees, the tiredness of his jaw and rawness of his throat and stretched out, used up feeling of his arse. It all added an extra layer, reminding him of just how he’d got here, just how much he needed this, just how thoroughly he’d earned it.

He whined against David, moaned like he hadn’t been touched in years, and it was right there on him before he had a chance to think about catching his breath and enjoying it. He felt the heat, the burning fire deep in his belly, felt his balls drawing up, his whole body following suit and coiling in on itself. And then it exploded, shattering him into pieces as he came over David’s fingers, over himself. He made incoherent noises, unable to make sense of the sheer magnitude of it, his body convulsing and his mind a blank of fucksogood fucksogood fucksogood.

It seemed to go on forever as David coaxed him, hands touching all over, claiming him in the gentlest way he had all night. He felt totally owned and more grateful than he could even comprehend, his mind returning to him only a tiny sliver at a time. He slumped, body finally waving a little white flag, but David was there to catch him, to ease him down, to rest Charlie’s head on his lap and stroke his hair soothingly until he finally stopped quivering, curled up tightly against David’s crossed legs.

“You are remarkable,” David said, something like wonder in his voice. He pushed the blindfold up, but Charlie didn’t bother to open his eyes. He didn’t need to see. He knew that he was safe, knew he was where he wanted to be. “Such a good boy,” David continued. “Always do me proud. We’re just going to rest now. Sleep if you want. I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready.”

Charlie nodded, made a contented noise, snuggled in closer to him. He should probably care that he was naked on the floor of a BDSM club, his mind in pieces and his body useless to him. He should probably be slightly concerned about what had just happened, or at least a little ashamed. But everyone was allowed their dirty little secrets, weren’t they? Everyone was allowed to explore the darker parts of themselves. So Charlie was just going to lay here and let David put him back together and accept the fact that he’d happily let this happen to him again. And again and again and again.