The Pool

"Oh god," I gasped, "you are."

"Tell me what you feel," he said, as he pushed his fat stomach against me, jerking his hips into my backside.

"I feel your cock," I gasped. "You're at my asshole . . . oh god, you're . . . you're pushing into me, I . . ."

It was somehow more humiliating when it was a man who wasn't remotely attractive. To be ass-fucked by a handsome older man was one thing. To be ass-fucked by a balding fat man made me lower than a cheap whore.

"Please," I begged, "please, not again . . ."

"Tell me how it feels," he grated, and pushed, and I split open and his fat cock was bulging into my arse.

"GOD!" I squealed. "You're in me, you're in me, oh god, I can feel you, you're in my arse . . . oh please . . ."

He pushed my body up against the wall, so that I was squeezed between its cold, hard unyieldingness, and his fleshy mass behind me. Then he began to pump me.

The friction of his cock in my arse kept me hard, but it was mostly just supremely humiliating and degrading. It was him making me submit, and I was ashamed to find that I was aroused by being made to submit, but it didn't push me any further. It didn't stimulate me physically any more than that. I stood against the wall, panting, as he pumped into my arse, and from time to time I looked over my shoulder at the men standing, watching us, in silence, and I tried to beg them with my eyes to ask him to stop, but they weren't looking at my face. They were looking at my body, and at him taking me.

For all that he was a fat guy, he had enormous vigour and he seemed to be pumping my asshole for hours. After a while I felt my resistance going and I got weepy and semi-coherent. "Please," I heard myself sobbing at one point, "please, please cum in me, please, I can't take anymore, oh please cum in my ass, oh god . . ."

That seemed to do it for him, because I felt his warm liquid spurting inside me and I moaned. He panted for a few moments, and then pulled his cock out of me and my knees buckled. I sank to the tiled floor of the pool and buried my face in my hands.

"Oh god," I sobbed.

"All right," said the voice of the grey-haired man. "That's enough of that."

"Please," I panted.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Obediently, I took my hands from my face and looked at him, feeling their gaze on me, on my naked body.

"We're not going to kill you," he said. "We don't even want to hurt you, Ali. We just want to use you."

"You have used me," I sobbed.

"We have," he said, "and that's about enough for tonight, I think."

There were grumbles of complaint from the other men. He turned and addressed them.

"Now, come on," he said. "Be reasonable. The boy's only starting out. We don't want to tear him a new arsehole, do we? It'll be a while before he can take more than two or three of an evening, but we'll get there, don't worry."

"What?" I gasped, unbelieving. He turned around.

"Oh, in case you thought this was a one-off," he said, "sorry to disappoint you. We'll be having you back here."

"Why would I do that?" I gaped at them, but inside ... deep down, I was beginning to see what he was talking about.

"Because you brought this on yourself, Ali," he said, quietly and reasonably. "You showed yourself off to us, but you didn't want to pay for it. But you know, now, that it's better to pay with your body, isn't it?"

"What?" I asked, feeling their eyes on me, never having felt so vulnerable, so naked. I was the sacrificial virgin in their weird rite.

"You'll be coming back, of course," he said.

"You have got to be kidding," I breathed.

"You wanted this," he said, advancing on me.

"I did not," I whispered.

"Yes you did, you little slut," he said casually, smiling. "When you flashed your arse at us. When you spent ages showering naked, letting us all have a good look at you. You knew what you were doing and still you did it. You can't complain now."

"You didn't ask if I wanted it," I said shakily, staring up at him as he towered over me. "You just took me."

"I know," he said. "Because that's how you wanted to be taken. You'd never have said yes to us asking nicely. You want someone to make you feel like you haven't got a choice, am I right?"

I felt myself blushing, and I averted my eyes. I was kneeling like a penitent, my hands on my bare thighs, not bothering to cover myself. There seemed little point. I had stripped naked physically, but now they had stripped me naked emotionally as well. It was obvious what I really wanted. They knew me, better than I knew myself.

"You'll come back," he said softly. "And we'll all have you in the end. Every one of us. And you won't go to the hospital, because we'll make sure nothing's wrong with your body. And you won't go to the police, because you don't think this is a crime. You want it too much."

I nodded, my face and body crimson with shame. I covered my face with my hands again, sitting back on my heels.

"And even if you did," he went on, "you see that fellow there?"

I lowered my hands and followed his gesture. A youngish handsome guy in his thirties smirked at me.

"That guy works in the local A&E," he said. "If you come in saying you've been raped, you'll be dealing with him. You're not going to get very far. If you go to the cops?"

He pointed to a tall, dark-haired, saturnine but rather paunchy man who was watching me through hooded eyes.

"That's the district superintendent for the area," the grey-haired man said. "He'll be looking out for anything with your name on it, and he'll know where to file it."

The man smiled and nodded, looking at me hungrily. I shivered.

"We have you covered, boy," the grey-haired man said with satisfaction. "Now you know how it works, you know what you have to do. If you put in the hours, then one day, you've a chance of standing where we are, giving this speech to some unfortunate young fella like yourself."

"Maybe," added the fat man, grinning.

"Well, yes," said the grey-haired man. "Assuming, of course, that you last the distance. Many don't."

"Are you saying," I said haltingly, "that you've all been where I am?"

There was much laughter at this.

"Of course not," said the grey-haired man, looking at me with contempt. "You think I'd let anyone do that to me? Most of us are just smart enough to take boys like you. One or two of us have ... risen from the ranks, as it were."

"It's been a while, though," said the fat man. The grey-haired man scanned the group of other men.

"Yes," he said. "I don't see any now, to be fair. Most of your kind don't last very long. But don't worry. We'll see you right, however you end up."

I knelt, naked and wet and shivering, and stared up at him as he walked up to me again.

"You want us taking you and fucking you up your arse," he said. "It gets you off -- maybe not in your loins, but it gets you off where it matters. I know that. I know you, Ali."

"Yes," I whispered.

"However," he said, "there's something else we need to show you about yourself. Get him up."

Unbelieving, I felt myself being grabbed under my armpits and hauled to my knees.

"Yes," said the grey-haired man, "we've had our fun. But there's been one thing missing from all this."

"Please," I gasped, "just . . . let me go . . . please . . ."

"Oh no," he said. "What kind of hosts would we be if we did that. No, there's definitely someone round here who hasn't had such a nice time as everyone else."

"You can't," I panted. "I . . . please, I can't do any more . . ."

"I wasn't only talking about you," he said, looking my naked body up and down. "I meant a certain friend of ours."

The group parted, and two young men came forward, leading a tall, frail-looking elderly man by the elbows. He had short white hair and trembled and was wearing a towel around his waist.

"Our friend here has had a lot of young men," said the grey-haired man, "in the course of his, shall we say, professional duties. We always like to keep him until last, on account of a special way he has about him of keeping young chaps happy. Isn't that so, brother?" he said to the elderly man, who nodded at him.

I stared up them in disbelief. The old man looked like he could barely stand. What where they going to do?

"He hasn't had his pleasure with you," said the leader, "and likewise, you haven't had what I've been told is one of the supreme pleasures to be had -- the pleasure of being taken by him."

One of the young men took the towel from around the old man's waist, and my eyes widened in shock as I saw what was beneath it.

He had the longest cock I had ever seen. Even not erect, it must have been seven inches. It dangled from his grey bush of pubic hair, evidently the most lively thing about him, as if it had sucked away all the rest of his youth and vigour.

But I didn't get too long to look at it, because they turned me to face away from him and put me on my hands and knees.

I looked up fearfully and almost immediately got a faceful of cum. I gasped and spluttered and blinked, and another load of hot semen splashed over my eyes and nose. I coughed and protested, but this was something they had rehearsed; I was held in place and made to take faceful after faceful of cum, until my entire face was plastered with a sticky mask of it.

After what had gone before, this was simply shattering; I had never felt so defiled in my life. I barely even had time to whimper in protest "No ... oh God ... oh please ... mmmbll ... oooh ... please ... please," before more cum splashed in my face and I spent more time spitting it out than in begging them to stop.

But then, I was hauled to my feet and bent forward at the waist, and I felt him going in.

The old man was being held up and they were lubing me up again, pushing great gobs of cool gel into my anus. I gasped and cried "No!" but then they were guiding his cock into my ass, and in mounting disbelief and panic I felt his stiff muscle sliding and sliding into me until my eyes were tight shut and I was grimacing.

"Oh God," I moaned.

"Ohhh," he rasped behind me, elderly and frail but all too vital when it came to fucking me.

"Oh please," I whimpered as I felt his length slide deep inside me, violating me completely, as he must have taken so many youths before me.

He pushed deep into me, making me moan from the gut, naked and blind from the cum that covered my face; then, with only a few slow but steady strokes, he came, and his cum shot out and landed directly on my prostate.

The unbelievable flood of his sensation that this caused in my body made me scream with arousal and shame, and even as I felt my own cock stiffening and twitching, someone grabbed it and rapidly jerked it, and I could not help myself from cumming explosively over the tiled floor and moaning aloud from the biggest orgasm of my life. It was like a sun being born in my ass, flooding through into my cock and my entire body so that I blazed with warmth. My eyes rolled back in my head and I fainted for a moment, because when I woke up they had lowered me so that I lay face down on the tiles.

"There you are," said the grey-haired man. He rolled me onto my back with his bare foot. I sprawled, no longer able or willing to conceal my nakedness.

"Well done, son," he said with apparent sincerity. "You did good. We'll be seeing you again, I think."

He was half-dressed, now, wearing shorts and an undershirt and plastic disposable gloves, and was holding my mobile.

I watched, my will breaking within me, as he tapped out the text.

"Had a great time tonight," he said. "You can fuck my brains out any time. You can do what you like with the pictures. Love and kisses Ali. There. That's gone to all our phones, now. So you'll be keeping quiet about this. Cheerio, Ali."

He tossed the phone at me and I caught it. I lay on my back and watched them leave. Then I lay there, huddling my nakedness to myself, for some time.

Finally I got up, aching, dripping and besmeared with bodily fluids, and whimpering quietly I got under the nearest shower and gently washed myself off. When I was at least physically clean, I limped to the deserted locker room. I pulled my clothes on and walked like a zombie out into the night.

As I walked home through the midnight city I found myself avoiding the main streets and sticking to the backstreets. I examined my own sensations.

The most immediate ones were the sense of humiliation and degradation. I had been gang-fucked -- only three of them had actually raped me, but the rest had stood and watched. I hadn't put up a fight and they had taken pains to make sure so I hadn't been physically hurt. Beyond that, I'd felt compelled to give them complete access to my body and I had been anally raped three times. I was now all too familiar with the sensation of a cock being pushed into my arsehole. I had openly been aroused by at least some of what was happening to me, and when they'd promised me that they'd make me cum, they had fulfilled the promise. I had had the fucking of my life.

I felt dirty and sleazy and beneath contempt. I also no longer felt the aching emptiness of no-sex. I had had more sex than I could handle and I would not be interested in it again for a long time. It was a kind of oddly serene emptiness, like being a soap bubble. I knew it wouldn't last. But on some level . . .

God, don't tell me you're so far gone that you're grateful to those fuckers? You could have been out getting together with a girl, somebody sexy and funny and smart and playful. Instead of lying in a shower room letting a bunch of guys fuck you up your arse.

As I walked back to my flat, I admitted to myself that I would do nothing. They had had me, and if I went back there, they would surely have me again. They had taken me, naked and vulnerable, and they'd raped me, and they'd made me enjoy my degradation. My face blazed with shame in the darkness as I walked. I wanted someone, or something, to wipe it all away.

When I got home I went to my bedroom, stripped off, got in the bed, curled up and whimpered, my asshole still pulsing with the fucking it had been given, my pride and dignity bruised even more badly.

I slept for a long time. I woke to find a message on my phone.

Good morning Ali. You're expected at the pool at eleven am. You know what will happen if you don't show up. Be a good boy.

I sat up in bed, naked, and stared at my phone, feeling my destiny embrace me.