Trapped in Number Six Pt. 01

Dylan realised he'd made a mistake as soon as he pushed the door open and walked inside. He just didn't know yet how big a mistake it would prove to be.

The tune he was whistling died on his lips as he saw the three figures waiting for him.

Ordinarily he wouldn't have given the apprehensive looking girl a passing glance; he'd have stared at her. It wasn't just that she was inside what was clearly - unless he was drunker than he thought - a public toilet for men only. It was how she was dressed.

The dirty white crop top barely concealed her swelling breasts, the studded black leather shorts looked as if they'd been sprayed on, and the outfit was completed by platform wedge shoes that seemed impossible to walk in. She seemed somewhere around his age, but he couldn't be sure.

But for all her charms, his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the two men either side of her. They appeared to be built on a different scale to both Dylan and their female companion.

But what really took him aback was not their height and girth, nor the way they seemed to fill the space between the urinal and the cracked wash basins, but the knowing grins on their faces.

They were perhaps somewhere in their thirties or forties. Each man's craggy, tanned face suggested a life largely spent out of doors - and not necessarily well spent at that.

Dylan cursed the spur of the moment decision that had caused him to take the shortcut through the park. Ordinarily, he would have taken the bus, after a night drinking with his mates. But it was a nice evening, and he thought it would be good to walk off some of the beers.

And then he was about to look for a convenient bush, when he'd seen the toilet block. It had looked completely deserted. Only it turned out it wasn't ...

He shivered involuntarily and turned to reach for the door that had swung shut behind him. But it was too late. His exit was blocked by a third man whose presence besides the entrance he had missed. Clad all in black leather, like both his colleagues, he was built to a more normal scale, but the smile on his acne-scarred face was every bit as terrifying.

"Yours is number six, buddy."

Dylan turned back to see that the bigger of the first two men had spoken. He nodded at a row of cubicles. Their doors were all closed, except the one at the far end, which stood open.

Dylan found his voice. "I decided I didn't -"

"Number six."

The man cut across him and gestured again to the open cubicle. Dylan looked at him, made to open his mouth, but stopped when the man lifted his eyebrows. He inclined his head in the direction he wanted the young man to take.

He was still smiling, but it was the least pleasant expression Dylan had ever seen. Something about the cold hard eyes told him he'd live to regret it if he didn't do as he was told - if he lived at all.

Stomach churning with anxiety, the alcoholic haze he'd felt just moments ago banished as if a switch been flicked, he walked unsteadily past the two men and the girl to the nominated cubicle. Stepping inside, he closed the door and then stopped, at a complete loss as to what to do next.

After a minute or so, he heard a different voice say. "I don't hear anything. Thought you wanted to go?"

In response, he raised the toilet seat, unzipped his pants, pulled out his member and tried to summon a flow. Nothing happened.

"I ... I can't," he announced, his voice cracking slightly.

There was a chuckle, and the first voice said: "Well that's a shame. Cos there's a charge for that cubicle. It's special, see. And you've used it. Whether you pissed or not."

Dylan swore silently and reached for his wallet. "I don't have any -"

"We don't want money," said the first man. "You can pay with something else. But you can leave your wallet with us for safe keeping until we get what we want. And your phone."

Dylan wondered whether he could surprise them by bursting out the door and trying to escape before they knew what was happening.. But there were three of them, and he surely couldn't expect much help from the girl - she'd looked as frightened as he now felt.

He slid his wallet and phone under the door, cursing that he hadn't thought to send someone a text, or even called the police. But there was a more immediate problem.

"If you're not after money," he called, his voice shaky, "what do you mean by -"

To one side of him, there was a grating sound, and what he had taken to be a solid section of the partition between his own cubicle and the next one along slid back to reveal a hole, at around the level of his chest. There was a pause, and then what unmistakably a penis was thrust through the hole.

"We're sure you can figure it out," said the second voice jovially.

Dylan's stared at the tool that was dangling beside him.

He was not a complete stranger to cocksucking. He and his best friend Sam had once spent the best part of a summer sucking one another off - or at least, he had regularly given Sam blowjobs, with his friend occasionally reciprocating. After they each found new girlfriends, they'd stopped - and Dylan had never looked to take up with any other men. But he did at least have some idea what to do.

The problem though was that this wasn't his best friend, but a complete stranger. He couldn't even be sure it was one of the men he'd seen outside, though that seemed most likely. Still, what choice did he have? He was no match for the men who had trapped him here.

With a sigh he sat down on the toilet seat, shuffled around to face the hole and, trying desperately to suppress a burst of nausea, tentatively lifted the flaccid intruder to his mouth.

Two things happened at once. There was a growl of approval from the adjoining cubicle, and he realised that the cock in his mouth was considerably thicker than what he remembered of Sam's. It also smelled and tasted far less fresh and clean.

But he willed himself to imagine that he was back in his friend's bedroom, fooling around after school. As the flesh in his mouth hardened and expanded, he fought to open his jaws a little wider and keep it sliding in and out of his lips.

He could hear groans of appreciation from next door, as well as other voices urging him on. But he did his best to tune them out. Just imagine it's Sam, he told himself, as he worked away on the strange cock, gradually increasing the pace of his sucking.

Closing his eyes helped. He pretended he was back in his bedroom, kneeling in front of his flaxen-haired friend, his hands cupped round the Sam's firm buttocks, gazing up past the flat stomach and largely hairless chest to the beautiful brown eyes that were looking down on him, urging him on, yearning for the sweet release that Dylan was aching to give him ...

The sounds around him seemed to recede, until his sole focus was on driving his head forward and back, forward and back, the engorged flesh in his mouth all he could feel and taste.

He had got into such a zone that it came as a complete surprise when he felt spunk shooting onto his tongue and down his throat. Reflexively, he grabbed the shaft, but allowed the pulsing member to keep jetting cream into his mouth. In the next cubicle he heard its owner groaning in pleasure.

Just as he had always done with Sam - indeed he was still doing his best to imagine that it was his friend who had just come in his mouth - Dylan carefully licked the head clean and swallowed every drop of cum.

It didn't taste quite as good as he remembered it, but maybe that was the difference between wanting to suck cock and being forced to. Although he noticed to his shame that he himself had become aroused - not completely, but enough so that he could see the bulge in his pants.

He wondered what he should do now. Would the men outside leave him alone now, or would they expect more? He was just on the verge of calling out when there was a rap on the door of his cubicle.

He went to open it, but before he could say or do anything, someone pushed him back, came inside and closed the door. It was the girl. She was carrying a plastic bag in one hand, and what looked a wet wipe in the other.

She lifted the wipe to his face and started to say in a low, urgent voice: "I need to clean you -"

She broke off and stared at his face. "Where's all the ... you know?"

Dylan didn't answer, but felt his cheeks redden.

"Oh," said the girl. A fleeting expression that Dylan couldn't quite read flitted across her pretty face. But then she shook her head and instead started pulling clothing out of the bag.

"They want you to put these on," she said.

"These" turned out to be a lacy pink tank top with a floral design, a short denim skirt, pink cotton panties, and light brown sandals with wedge heels. Dylan stared at them in consternation.

"But ..." he protested, "those are ... those are for girls!"

The girl brushed her blonde bangs back out of her eyes.

"I know," she answered softly, "but that's what they want you to wear."

Her face took on a pleading expression. "Please do what they say, otherwise ... well, you've seen them, right?"

The young man stifled a moan, and nodded in resignation. Silently, he started taking off his clothes. When he was down to his underpants, he hesitated.

"Those too, I'm afraid," said the girl with a grimace. She turned her back until he'd donned the panties instead, then helped him zip up the skirt and stand up in the unfamiliar heels. They were much shorter than hers, but he still found he was tottering on them. When she indicated he should sit back down on the toilet seat, he did so gratefully.

"Two more things," she said.

She dug into the bag again and produced what was clearly a tube of lipstick. When she unscrewed the top, the colour was revealed to be a bright bubblegum pink, very different to the red shade she herself was wearing.

"No way," breathed Dylan.

But the girl simply stood over him with the lipstick poised, giving him a steady look. With a sigh he tilted back his head and she began to work on his lips. After she had finished, she mimed smacking her own lips. When he copied her, she did a further touch up, inspected her handiwork, and then nodded her head in satisfaction.

Dylan was just about to ask the girl what the second thing had been, when she bent down and brought her cherry red lips to his and gave him a soft, lingering kiss.

He stiffened in surprise, but then felt himself returning the kiss, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When she finally broke the contact, he looked up at her in wonder.

"What was that for?" he asked.

Her face still had that serious cast. "Just checking your lipstick's not gonna smudge," she answered, peering again at his lips.

Dylan blinked. "Does that I mean I've got to, er ...?" He glanced at the glory hole.

"Fraid so."

She glanced away for a second, then asked: "The prettiest girl in your class at school. What's her name?"

Dylan was completely thrown by the sudden shift - and he was still thinking about that strange sensation of lipstick meeting lipstick.

"I'm sorry ... what?" he finally managed to say. She repeated the question, her tone as flat as ever.

He stammered for a minute, then said: "I guess ... Natalie? Natalie Myers. But what's that -"

The girl ignored him.

"Natalie's ready," she called out, clearly speaking to the men outside the cubicle.

Then she leant down again and whispered in his ear: "I'll try and make it a bit easier for you, okay?"

He had no idea what she was talking about and was just about to say so, when a shift in her gaze prompted him to look sideways, to find another cock being fed through the hole. This one was considerably longer than the previous one. In fact it was the biggest he had ever seen.

As he stared at it, a voice behind the partition said: "Come on Natalie, time to work your magic, sweetheart."

There was laughter outside the door, as the men there joined the chorus demanding him to use his "pretty mouth" to "suck that big dick," or variations on that theme.

Dylan looked around, wondering if they could somehow see him, but there was no sign of a camera. As the clamour outside grew louder, he shook his head in resignation and turned again towards the cock that was dangling from the glory hole. As he lifted it to his mouth, marvelling at its weight, he felt it stir into life.

Once again, he tried picturing himself with Sam, though the size of the organ he was trying to pleasure made that a difficult pretence to maintain. What was it though that he used to do that his friend loved so much? Oh yeah, he thought, that ...

He began vigorously licking the shaft, starting as far down it as the partition would allow, and trying to get his tongue all the way around it. As he worked his way up he deliberately drooled over it. By the time he reached the top and probed the slit there, the member he was holding was coated in his saliva and fully erect.

The noises he could hear from next door also suggested that Sam was not the only one to enjoy such treatment.

Fervently hoping that he could finish what he'd started as quickly as possible, he wrapped his mouth around the throbbing phallus and began to suck it. He tried to get as much of it in as possible, but each time he got the end anywhere near his throat he would gag and lose his rhythm.

All of a sudden, there was a new distraction. He felt his skirt being lifted and his panties pulled aside, freeing his own cock. Startled, he wrenched his mouth away from the huge tool he was trying to service.

He looked down to see the blonde girl looking up at him with a faint smile. As he watched, she opened her mouth to engulf his stirring manhood in a sudden warm wetness.

Dylan had only ever had his cock sucked a few times - and not at all since Sam had done it during that period of experimentation. None of his girlfriends had ever offered, and for some reason he hadn't been inclined to ask, even those who'd been happy to let him fuck them.

He gave a gasp now as he came to life in the girl's mouth.

He was just about to reach down - though to do what, he wasn't quite sure. But she somehow sensed his movement and glanced back up. Without taking her lips off his rapidly stiffening organ, she somehow contrived with her eyes to suggest he resume his own assignment.

He hesitated, but then a growl from the other side of the partition prompted him to resume work on the hard, throbbing meat that protruded from the hole. As he tried to regain his shattered concentration, he could feel the girl's hand wrapped firmly around his own shaft, holding it in place while she bobbed her head up and down.

Without intending to do so, he fell into the same rhythm as her. And now he had a new experience to savour, something he'd never got from his good-looking friend - the feeling of giving head while at the same time receiving it.

The surge of excitement that he felt prompted him to increase his own efforts, his head moving faster and his lips clamped as tightly as possible around the head and shaft he was engulfing. But after a few minutes of this, he felt his strength begin to flag, his neck muscles becoming sore from the unusual exercise and his breath starting to rasp. Even as the girl continued to plunge up and down on his own rigid pole, his sucking slowed.

The man whose cock he was pleasuring must have sensed that Dylan was tiring, because he called out: "Natalie, put that slutty mouth of yours next to the hole and hold it there!"

For a moment, Dylan didn't respond, but then the use of his new name penetrated the erotic fog that seemed to be clouding his brain. He stopped sucking, took a few heaving breaths, and then did as he was told.

His head was jolted back as the rampant phallus drove into his mouth, past the point where he could possibly accommodate its length.

"Not so far in," he gasped urgently, but then resumed the position required of him, with his bright pink lips, their covering still intact, poised in front of the glory hole. The next thrust stopped shorter, and this time he was able to hold his position and wait for the next one, and the one after that ...

With a thrill that both alarmed and somehow exhilarated him, he realised that his face was being fucked. Sam had never done that to him, but this older man, whoever he was, was simply taking ownership of Dylan's gaping mouth - or was it Natalie's?

As he tried to process that, a different part of him was responding in another way. With a sudden gush he came in the blonde's mouth, his panty-clad bottom involuntarily lifting off the toilet seat as he arched upwards and poured his seed into her.

The rush of his orgasm had only just faded when the man next door began to shorten his strokes and pound the head of his cock against Dylan's lips, faster and faster, his grunts gradually lengthening into a roar until he too was coming. But as he did so he pulled back slightly, so that some of his spunk missed the waiting mouth and spattered onto Dylan's lips, chin and cheeks.

As he had done before, Dylan did his best to clean the man's cock and ingest the spunk in and around his mouth, even as he felt the girl below doing the same to him. When he had finished licking and sucking the last gobs of cum, he relinquished the heavy but now shrinking shaft and it was withdrawn through the hole. He felt the girl tuck his cock back into his panties and smooth down his skirt.

Leaning back slightly, Dylan closed his eyes and took a few shuddering breaths. But then he felt the girl get up off her knees, straddle him and sit back down on his lap, facing towards him. He brought his eyes open gain to find her right in front of his face.

For the second time that evening she brought her tender lips down onto his. But as they parted to accept the kiss, he felt a surge of viscous fluid flooding into his mouth. With a shock, he understood that she feeding him his own cum!

He stiffened and started to protest, but she seemed to know everything he was going to do before he did. A squeeze on this arm and slightly firmer pressure down on his lips were enough for him to stifle whatever he was going to say or do. Instead, he gulped down the creamy mess she had left and he heard her make a sound of approval.

When he had finished, she lifted her mouth from his and started licking up the remnants of the other man's cum that were left on Dylan's face, feeding him those scraps as well until he could taste nothing but semen. His stomach lurched at the thought of how much cum he had swallowed.

Once her task was completed, the girl stood up and indicated that they should leave the cubicle. He got to his feet wearily, wobbling on the unfamiliar heels. She unlocked the door, but then leaned back and whispered in his ear: "Well done Natalie."

For a second, he wondered why she was calling him that, but then remembered that she had never heard his real name. It didn't seem like an appropriate time or place for introductions, so he murmured "Thanks" and then followed her out.

As Dylan emerged, the three men he had seen earlier were there to greet him, which they did with jeers and ribald comments about Natalie being both a dirty slut and a great little cocksucker.

The biggest man was still refastening his pants, from which Dylan gathered he was the owner of the large cock that Dylan had just serviced.

The smallest of the three grinned and held up a phone, on which a video was playing. With a sinking feeling, Dylan realised that it showed him dressed as Natalie, with his bright pink lips wrapped around the big man's tool and the girl's head busily working away on his own much smaller erection. From the angle, there must have been a small camera built into the door, perhaps around the lock.

"If you like, Natalie, we can put that up on the internet," said the big man with a wicked smile. "Or ... you can let us give you a lift home."