Balham & The Wilde Angel

“Oh, dirty boy.” That was Bob, grunting softly as he began to pull out, too close to climax to risk any further pulsation. “So pretty. Such a tight hole!”

“You wanna get him to suck your cock, Bob!” Jake was leaning on the ropes watching with a shake of his head. “He’s somethin’ else. I totally wanna watch him deep throat ‘you’.”

The wiry little fellow they all called Jocko mounted Rayne again as Bob’s cock plopped out of him and bobbed upright against his belly. It was as easy as being fingered after taking the long, hard shaft of his predecessor for five minutes. Jocko didn’t last nearly as well however. One fuck had been enough to get him primed and it took him only a couple of minutes to pump himself to climax after watching the slut take it in both ends for the last half hour. His jism trickled down between Rayne’s cheeks as he retired to the jeers of his fellow competitors.

Moments later, Mikey pulled out, still hard and dripping pre-cum onto the whore’s pretty face.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he panted. “That’s good!”

Rayne crouched before him, still on his hands and knees, head lowered like a beaten horse, panting quietly. His lean young body was soaked with spunk and sweat and he was half-hard in spite of his own exhaustion. As Mikey zipped up and took the camera back, O’Toole gently encouraged the blond boy to lie down on the canvas.

“We’re gonna have a little interlude before the play-offs,” he said with a grin. “Time for you to get a little satisfaction while we get our breath back, know what I’m sayin’?”

Rayne stared up at him uncomprehendingly. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he lay sprawled between the remaining competitors. Now, the procurer reached for a leather kit bag which had been sitting innocuously by the ringside since they began. He had initially produced the cuffs and fetters from it and now he unveiled a new set of toys.

Releasing the cuffs on their sex-toy’s wrists, he made the young man lie down again and showed him a leather strap with an attachment that was a cross between a child’s pacifier and a short, fat, black-rubber dildo. Rayne eyed it with some resignation. When O’Toole told him to ‘open wide’ he parted his lips and let the client press the rubber cock into his mouth, fastening the straps of the ‘gag’ behind his head.

Next he produced a cock strap, which he fastened securely around the base of Rayne’s semi-hard prick, beneath his balls, pulling it tight until the little whore uttered a muffled yelp and his dick stiffened some more. O’Toole nodded to his companions and two of them moved to take hold of the slut’s ankles as his wrists were once more cuffed, this time in front. Roughly they spread his legs and lifted his knees to chuckles of appreciation from those who were watching. Mikey knelt between the blond boy’s feet with the camera as O’Toole withdrew a long, chunky, black vibrator from the bag and lubed it’s twelve inch shaft liberally with KY.

Rayne struggled and tried to protest through the rubber pacifier in his mouth but his knees were lifted higher and spread wide apart. Bob crouched over him and applied two lubed fingers to his rectum, getting him good and slippery. He pulled them out as O’Toole turned on the vibrator and pressed the throbbing latex head against Rayne’s vigorously buggered hole.

He yelped as the big bell end popped into him and he felt the oscillations quiver up his colon and into his belly. His prostate was tingling urgently as the huge dildo pulsed deeper and deeper inside him until the whole foot of trembling latex was up his arse, almost splitting him open. The groans continued to issue from his throat as his dick and balls responded to the violation of his anus in the only way they knew. The strap kept his climax in check, but it would not do so forever.

“Rub your cock,” O’Toole told him, with a glint in his eyes. “Wank it hard, queer boy. Wank yourself off for the camera.”

Rayne whimpered, but he did as he was told. His cock ached to be touched and responded as soon as his fingers curled around it. A stream of pre-cum leaked out over his sticky hands. He rubbed and squeezed the sensitive head and stroked his fingers up and down, slowly and nervously at first but with increasing enthusiasm, fisting one hand around his shaft and caressing the bell-end with the other, teasing the serpent’s eye as he masturbated for his eager audience.

“Oh you beauty!”

“You dirty little fucker, whack it hard. Go on!”

“You like that, don’t you, faggot?”

He closed his eyes, rubbing harder and faster until he was barely able to breathe. As the first hot squirt of semen burned out of his cock head, he groaned more urgently, struggling against the hands which held him. It was agony and ecstasy combined; he was forced into a desperately uncomfortable pose and impaled fiercely upon the pulsing dildo but the need to cum was primal. He could not stop, the jism just kept pumping out of him, until it felt like a warm, wet lake on his chest and stomach. When he felt as if he could not possibly squirt another drop, they finally relented and let him stop wanking.

They tied his wrists to the corner post now and the dildo was removed slowly. His insides felt wet and loose as it was pulled out of him but he was given no time to rue it for the gang-bang began again in earnest. There were only three left now but all of them had decent sized cocks and clearly planned to use them for they left the gag in his mouth to keep him quiet. He was bound in the corner of the ring with his ankles strapped to the middle ropes on either side of the corner post, lifting his knees and spreading his legs and arse cheeks wide.

“Five minutes each,” O’Toole told them grimly, unzipping and whipping out his stiff cock. “Hard and fast, no breathers. You spill your load and you’re out. Last man hard gets to take him in the showers freestyle.”

He rubbered up and took first turn, and he was not gentle. Rayne bucked and struggled, pulling on the ropes to no avail as the burly fellow crouched over him, raping him vigorously. Five minutes was a lifetime lying on his back with his legs forced wide. He closed his eyes on the treacherous tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He would not cry. There was no way he’d give them that satisfaction. He bit down hard on the rubber dildo in his mouth and concentrated on the money. He would make a fortune out of tonight’s experience, even after Rabid John had taken his cut.

O’Toole was sweating copiously and panting like a winded dog as his sheathed hard-on pumped away between Rayne’s naked, spunk-spattered buttocks. Just before he looked set to keel over, exhausted, Jake called; “Five minutes!” and the puce-faced Irishman pulled out abruptly. Rayne took a short sharp breath through his nostrils and whimpered incoherently.

Mike handed the camera to Jake, dropped his pants, lubing up briskly, then stripped out of his shirt and tee shirt, and knelt down between the whore’s slim thighs. Rayne yelped as the big, bearded fellow bucked his way in, then sank down on top of him. Mike reached down beneath his wide-spread legs and gripped his bum, rutting away like a horny dog. His beard was rough and scratchy against the young prostitute’s neck and shoulder and his breath was hot and foetid as he panted obscenities in Rayne’s ear, humping him relentlessly.

‘Cum, you bastard!’ Rayne tightened his ring as fiercely as he could, resisting every thrust and milking his attacker vigorously, determined that this would not go on longer that it had to. Mikey bucked harder, trying to split him open with every stab of his cock. ‘Oh… come on… come on…” Rayne sank his teeth even deeper into the rubber, eyes closed tightly.

As if in answer to his prayers, on four and a half minutes, Mike the cameraman jacked off into him with a groan of mingled pleasure and disappointment. Rayne uttered a little huff of relief as he felt the slow, wet heat of the big man’s climax spreading through his innards.

“Ohh yeah! Hot stuff! Hot stuff!” Mike panted, taking his time to pull out.

Bob the Knob was on him almost at once. He took advantage of Mike’s recent spillage and pumped his way deeply into the pretty little whore. Rayne started off fighting him but just as with the previous times, he was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer length and bulk of Bob’s erect cock. He found himself crying out for it long before the five minutes was up. Bob was not what you would call a conventionally good-looking guy, but with a dick like his it hardly mattered. Rayne was rock hard and climactic again within a minute and half of Bob entering him.

The others were cheering Bob on as he pounded away. It was like the penultimate stage of a boxing match, only Rayne was taking all the punches. His teeth were clenched fiercely on the dildo in his mouth but he let out a savage, throaty groan of acknowledgement with every thrust of Bob’s mighty hard-on between his legs.

Then suddenly it was gone. Bob pulled out of him as abruptly as if his arse was on fire (which was how it felt).

“Five minutes, honours even,” someone said. “One more round. Tool and Bob.”

‘No!’ He wanted to groan. He wanted to beg them to stop but he could not even speak. They untied him and he was rolled onto his belly and lubed thoroughly. His wrists were tied to the strap behind his head, securing the gag in his mouth. Rayne felt weak and shaky. He just wanted to lie down and have them leave him alone but he was roughly manoeuvred onto his shoulders and knees, his left cheek flat to the canvas.

O’Toole mounted him and fucked him again. That rough, ribbed, rubber-clad cock slipped vigorously in and out of him. The Irishman’s balls bumped incessantly against his crotch as he ground away inside Rayne, grunting with increasing satisfaction. Their victim felt as if his insides were loose and weak enough to pour out when Tool withdrew. He felt sick and sore.

“Five!” Jake shouted triumphantly. Money changed hands. Tool pulled out and Bob was on him again.

Rayne closed his eyes against the tears as Bob the Knob raped him hard; naked, on his elbows and knees on the canvas. All around him at least five strangers masturbated as they watched his humiliation and bet on who could last the longest with him. When Bob’s enormous cock stoked him to an involuntary climax there was a spontaneous cheer from the watching men and his ejaculation was videoed in close-up for them to watch and wank over later when their wives were in bed.

Five minutes came and went. Bob withdrew and O’Toole remounted. He buggered the blond boy violently for almost three minutes then slumped over him with a little moan of astonishment and anguish. There was an almighty roar of appreciation. People began to slap Bob on the back and more money changed hands than before.

Rayne sank down on the canvas, just relieved that it was over.

But of course it wasn’t over. Not yet.

They gave him ten minutes to rest and even untied him. It felt good to get the gag out of his mouth, though he could still taste rubber on his teeth and tongue. Skinhead Jake and the Scottish guy then helped him to his feet and walked him through to the showers where they washed him down. The water was hot and it felt good after all the exertion out in the ring. Once he could stand unaided they left him and Bob walked into the shower room, completely nude. His hard-on nodded knowingly at Rayne, the bell-end purple and swollen, leaking a pearly dribble of cum.

Rayne caught his breath. At once the big man reached for him and pulled him close under the drizzle of steamy water. He stroked one hand between Rayne’s legs, caressing and groping then pressed his mouth onto the blond boy’s lips and kissed him clumsily. With his tongue in Rayne’s mouth he molested the skinny young rent boy urgently, squeezing and fondling his balls then easing the other hand down between his buttocks. Rayne felt one, then a pair of fingers explore his sore, stretched ring, then push deeper into his anus.

“You’re such a dirty boy,” Bob panted into his mouth. “I love doing dirty things to boys like you.”

Rayne swallowed dryly, breathing hard. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a movement and saw Mikey, naked, with the camera, still filming from the edge of the cubicle.

“Get on your knees, dirty slut boy,” Bob said with a slow smile. For the first time, Rayne wondered if he was not actually a bit simple. His speech was slow and awkward like his huge, bulky frame. “Get on your knees and lick my thing nice and clean.”

His big hands moved up to Rayne’s shoulders and urged him downward. It was easier to yield than anything else and he found himself doing as he was told. The sooner he complied the sooner he could get the hell out of this. He found himself on his knees, facing Bob’s hairy crotch. The head of his vast, pulsating dick moved up and down just above the bridge of his nose. Heavy, hirsute balls dangled down in front of him. Bob’s hand urged his face closer and Rayne closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He ran his tongue over Bob’s sac and took those huge, hot, hairy bollocks in his mouth one at a time, sucking and licking his client’s family jewels.

“Oh yeah!” Bob panted eagerly. “Yeah. You’re a good little faggot! I liked watching those guys doing you. That got me hot! I like watching them do you in your mouth and your dirty hole. I bet you love having hard cocks in your bum hole, eh?”

Rayne was silent, he just kept sucking and licking. Bob gripped him by the hair.

“Tell me how much you like it.”

Cold green eyes met maniacal blue grey ones.

“Tell me. Lick me clean and tell me how much you like getting bummed.”

Rayne’s tongue traced the length of Bob’s mighty wiener and circled the swollen, sweaty head. He wrapped his lips around it and suckled the glossy, purple bell-end like a baby at the tit. Bob’s fingers tightened in his wet hair and pushed his head down slowly, forcing him to take every last inch of cock. He gagged as it hit the back of his throat but kept swallowing the salty-sour, musky flavour of Bob’s sweat and pre-cum, mingled with his own anal fluids. Bob pumped it steadily in and out of his mouth and grunted with satisfaction.

“Mmm… hot, dirty boy! Feels good in your slutty mouth! Do you like eating spunk, dirty slut? Nod your head harder if you like it.”

The lean blond prostitute nodded urgently. He was kneeling with his legs slightly spread and the camera could pick up the fact that he had an erection. Sucking cock always gave him a hard-on.

“Good.” Bob nodded too. He gripped Rayne’s hair in both hands and fucked the whore’s mouth hard. When he struggled, Bob backhanded him roughly and pushed him up against the wall, ramming his sex urgently down the boy’s throat. “Ohh.. ohh!” he grunted and pulled back, spraying semen into Rayne’s open mouth and over his face.

Mikey got closer, filming this as he rubbed his stiffening penis.

“You like eating it, don’t you?” Bob said gleefully. To Rayne’s dismay, his erection did not even wilt. Bob made him lick the head of it until he was just oozing pre-cum again. “Say what a dirty boy you are. Say what things you like having done to you.”

Rayne looked balefully at the camera,

“I like sucking cock,” he said flatly.

“Yes, yes! Dirty boy! You like it up your bum as well, don’t you.”

“Yeah.” Rayne said it unenthusiastically.

“Say it. Tell me you want me to bum you hard. Say dirty slut words.”

Rayne closed his eyes. He was beginning to get a headache.

“I want you to fuck my arsehole, Bob. I want your big hard dick up my arse.”

“Good, good!” Bob was wanking. “Stand up and turn round. Show your hole. Put your finger in it! Show and tell how you want me to do you.”

Rayne sighed but obliged. Mikey was almost apoplectic, only able to watch but not touch. He was rock hard. The blond boy rubbed his penis and slipped wet fingers into his crack, teasing his sore anus gently.

“For god’s sake, fuck me, Bob! I need your dick. Fuck me up the arse and fill me with your hot spunk.”

He felt the hot head of Bob’s cock between his cheeks. Insistently he guided it to his rosebud and Bob panted; “Are you a dirty boy?”

“Yes, Bob! Yes, I’m a dirty, hot slut. Just fuck me, for crying out loud! I need a good hard fucking. I’m such a horny, nasty, dirty boy. Ram your tool up my arse, Bob. Please, I need to feel you in me… Ohhh!”

He caught his breath as Bob grabbed hold of his lean hips and pulled himself smoothly in. Rayne snatched at the pipes and clung to them as he was sodomised vigorously against the tiled wall. Bob might be an imbecile but he was enormous and he knew how to fuck without a shadow of doubt. That hard, swollen organ pumped in and out of his tender anus like a greased piston. Rayne’s balls were pulsating with pleasure. Already he was on the verge of another climax.

“Nasty, nasty boy. So good!” Bob was panting in Rayne’s ear. “Dirty and nasty, putting your hard thing up a boy’s bum. But it feels so good. So good. And it’s okay if they’re dirty, slutty boys. They like it in and out of their bums. You like it going in and out don’t you?”

“God! Yes!” Rayne was breathless, all the energy fucked out of him.

“I know you do, because I watched. I liked watching you naked, letting those other men do you. It made my thing hard. But they said I wasn’t to spunk off in you or I couldn’t put my thing up your bum any more, not until the end. But now I can spunk off in you as much as I want.”

Rayne swallowed hard, panting for breath.

“You like having men’s spunk in you, don’t you?”

He nodded wordlessly.

“That’s very dirty. Only really dirty boys like that. You’re making my thing really hard. I want to spunk off in your bum!”

“I want you to fill my arsehole with spunk as well,” Rayne whispered huskily. “Please!”

“My thing gets hard a lot. I wish you lived with me. I wish I could take you home and tie you to my bed with no clothes on. I’d tie you up tight with your legs open and I’d put vaseline on my hard thing…” Bob was pounding harder and harder. Rayne whimpered, rubbing own erection against the tiles as the bigger man fucked him. “And I’d put it up your tight hole again and again. Tell me you like it.”

“I love it, Bob!”

'Please... please finish!'

“Say ‘I’m a nasty dirty slut’.” Bob laughed like a child and fucked him like a rutting stag.

Rayne gasped the words on autopilot; “I’m a n-nasty, dirty slut, Bob. You’re making me cum… omigod!” Rayne convulsed, pressing himself against the wall as his balls tightened and emptied. Bob bucked into him deep and hard, one last time and Rayne felt the gush of his hot semen deep inside. He groaned with pleasure and Bob just kept panting; “Yes, yes, yes… hot and dirty! So good! Want him again!”

“Bob, you’ve gotta let him go. We’ve only paid for three hours,” Mikey pointed out. He had lowered the camcorder now that Bob was pulling out, filming that massive tool as it emerged, hot and steaming from Rayne’s arse.

“Not fair. I won. Tool said I could put my hard thing up his bum as much as I wanted!”

“You’re wearing him out, Bob. You’re not normal! Look at the poor little bugger, he’s completely fucked.”

For the first time that evening, Rayne felt gratitude towards Mike the camerman. It was an utterly unexpected emotion. He closed his eyes to keep himself from crying.

When Rabid John touched him lightly on the shoulder he realised that he had drifted off, on his knees in the showers. Johnno wrapped him in a towel and led him wordlessly out into the locker-room to get his dry and dressed. Rayne let him do it all, too numb to move or even speak. His whole body hurt.

It took twenty minutes to make the slow, stumbling walk back to Balham Tube station and Rayne felt as if he dreamed the entire journey. Johnno seemed quietly solicitous, as if what had been done to him tonight had shocked even the normally unflappable Yorkshire pimp. On the train, Raymonde Wilde stared blankly at his pallid reflection in the darkened glass, wondering if the rest of the Friday night travellers in this carriage could tell what a crack-addled whore he was. The tears had hardened to crystal quartz behind his eyes. He felt sick, cold, and utterly dehumanised.