I Wanna Be Degraded Ch. 02

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I was on my knees on a hotel room floor, naked and handcuffed after sucking off the man who was holding a video camera. My business trip wasn't going the way I had expected.

He'd pissed in my mouth, too, and I'd lovingly received it all. I didn't realize when I'd showed up for this rendezvous that my piss-drinking debut was going to be live-streamed on the internet, but it turned out that the idea was more arousing than disturbing to me.

So when Ford, the guy who had pissed in my mouth, opened the adjoining door to the next suite and let in three naked men, I was again surprised... but totally turned on.

The first two men made for an intriguing pair. They were both solid and muscular, squat in a way that made you think you might find them working out at a gym or working as bouncers at a club. But while one of them was covered – arms, chest, back and legs – in a thick coat of bushy hair – the other was bald. In fact, apart from his eyebrows, he looked to be totally hairless. At the same time, though, his body was covered with tattoos, as much as the other was covered with hair, ranging from an elaborate tableau with an angel across his back to smaller patterns up his arms.

And the third was opposite to them in a different way, As skinny as I was heavy, he had been crudely feminized, wearing a long blonde wig and rouge on his cheeks. His cock was flopping between stockings that ran the length of his legs, and he was walking somewhat unsteadily on a pair of red heels.

They entered and circled around me, looking me up and down.

"Hey," said the tattooed one. "It's the fat guy I saw drinking piss on the internet."

"He sure seemed to like it," the hairy one responded.

"Ugh. He's too fat," the feminized one said.

The tattooed one was looking me up and down. "He's not so bad. What's your name?"

"Danny," I said, feeling a little dizzy from the three of them circling around me like sharks eyeing a piece of meat.

"Nice cock, Danny," the tattooed one said. "But you need to shave your balls."

Ford was standing back, filming them all. He was also occasionally checking his second camera that was on a tripod a few feet away from me. "Yeah," he said. "I tested him out for you guys. This is Danny. Danny, this is Erik here with the tattoos, and Mike, and... what's your name tonight, honey... Nancy? Yeah, Nancy."

I couldn't tell if "Nancy" was being humiliated by being in that garb, or if he was fulfilling a fantasy. Or, I suppose, as I thought it over a little, maybe it was both, just like I was feeling. For whatever reason, he seemed to be threatened by me, and acted more than a little spiteful towards me.

"Yeah, I saw you drinking all that piss," Nancy said. "You must really be trying to impress the folks back home. Where did you say you were from?"

"Michigan," I said, not sure if I was obliged to be totally truthful with them, the way Ford had conditioned me to be. They were his proxies, I guess, but I didn't totally understand yet what the power dynamics in the room were now.

Nancy walked over to the stool I had set my pants on. He dug into my pocket and came out with my wallet. "Let's have a look," he said. He dug out my driver's license. "Yeah, Michigan, all right." He started reading off my information. "Danny M-----, lives at 317 B--- Street in D-------. Just drop by if you want your cock sucked."

"Bring it over here," Ford said. "Let's get a shot of it."

Nancy stepped over, and Ford zoomed in on my driver's license, broadcasting my name and address to anyone who would see this on the internet. Strangely, I wasn't totally freaking out about this – I felt serene in a really weird way. Like, I had no control over what was happening, so I should just go along.

Nancy set my wallet down on the counter, and fished out my blackberry from my pants.

"What's your number?" Ford asked.

That didn't seem as bad as having my address out there. "313-xxx-xxxx," I said.

"And what's your email?"

"Uh, ticketclick@gmail.com," I said, wondering if Ford would ask for my work email, too.

"Send him all your dirty thoughts, folks," Ford said. "Tell him what you want to do to him."

Nancy was back digging through my pants, and pulled out my hotel room's keycard. "He's staying at the Hilton downtown. Must be pretty fancy," he commented.

"What room?" Ford asked.

"It was on the sixteenth floor," I said, flustered for a moment as I tried to remember. "Ahhh, 1614."

"This is good for people who want to send him letters and faxes," Erik said. "But what about us?"

Ford looked over at me. "Tell them what you want," he said.

I was past the point of coy pauses or subtlety, so I didn't hesitate before responding, "I want to taste those cocks, and their piss."

"Nancy, grab the bowl," Ford instructed. Nancy did, standing behind me and reaching around my shoulder to hold it in front of my face. I could feel his legs against my arms, which were still handcuffed behind me, and also his cock pressing against my spine. Meanwhile, the two musclemen moved so there was one on either side of me, their dicks drooping over the bowl. Mike had a thick nest of dense pubic hair, with just the nub of his uncut cock protruding. He went first, pissing into the bowl – not much, just a couple mouthfuls, which Nancy tipped toward me to swallow. It was almost clear, and hardly pasted like piss at all.

Erik followed, and his stream was definitely piss, dark yellow and strong-smelling. I had to struggle not to cough it up as Nancy offered it to me, as it had a bitter, unpleasant taste. As I struggled with it, I looked hungrily at his pale, shaved cock, smoothly emerging from his torso.

Mike pissed again, a little more this time. But now, Erik leaned down and dipped his cock into it. Mike pissed a little more on Erik's cock, and then he raised it to my mouth. The combination of Mike's urine and Erik's fetching tool was almost overpoweringly arousing, and I felt a surge of pleasure as I licked it clean.

Then they reversed the roles, Erik pissing on Mike's fleshy stump – which looked mostly like dangly foreskin in its unerect state – and his bushy public hair. As Nancy carefully held the bowl to catch the drops straining through, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth, licking Erik's strong piss as my tongue ran over his foreskin, rapidly poking in to find out what it was hiding.

"Not yet," he said in a voice that was gently chiding but not unfriendly. "Suck my pubes clean first." So I did, moving my mouth around like a wet vac through a thick carpet. When I finished, I could feel I had hairs stuck in my teeth.

"Okay, next," said Ford. The guys stepped back and Nancy pulled the bowl away. "Go get the piss bottle," Ford instructed, and Nancy went over to the cupboards of the kitchenette. Meanwhile, Ford moved behind me and unlocked the handcuffs. Without giving me any time to rub my sore wrists, Ford told me to sit on the short edge of the long rectangular coffee table, and then to lay down along its length.

It was only as I moved for the first time in a while that I realized how much I had to go myself – no surprise, given how much piss I'd been drinking. Meanwhile, Nancy came back with something clear and plastic in his hand. It took me a second to figure out what it was – a 2 liter soda bottle that had had its base cut off. The back of my head flat against the table, Nancy turned it over and put the open top in my mouth, making it a crude funnel.

Once again, Mike and Erik stepped above me on opposite sides. "Okay whore," Ford said, also standing above me with his camera. "Block the bottom with your tongue. I'll signal when you can drink." I complied as I held the bottle up with one hand, poking my tongue like a plug to block the spout.

And then the two musclemen began pissing into the upturned bottle. I was almost hypnotized watching Mike's clear stream from one direction and Erik's dark, almost orange, flow from the other. They began to pool in the bottom, and I could feel the warmth as they mixed together. They kept pissing until the bottle was not-quite half full, and Ford said, "hold it." They cut off their flow, and then Ford nodded at me. Gingerly, I slowly unblocked the narrow lid, knowing I'd surely choke myself if I let that put straight back into my throat all at once. Now it was trickling out, and I could taste the hot, salty liquid as I began to gulp it down. The combined flavor was neither as good as Mike's piss or as unpleasant as Erik's.

There was a lot of piss for me to drink, and I had nearly swallowed everything that I had dammed in when Ford gestured to the guys and they resumed pissing. Now I had to keep up as the bottle above me refilled. All at once, the piss started to affect me like champagne – I felt wobbly in a way like I was strangely drunk. And suddenly it was as if all my senses had kicked up in intensity – the smell was stronger, the taste was more vivid, and all of it suddenly felt connected to my pleasure centers. The taste, the smell were suddenly all stimulating me, sending shudders of sexual pleasure throughout my body. It was something like an orgasm, but not centered in my cock. Just waves of sexual pleasure all over.

My mind had become unfocused, and as first Erik, then Mike trailed off, I had no idea how much piss I had just consumed. But I did have a sense of fullness, like I'd just had a full meal. As the last of it ran from the bottle into my throat, Ford gestured and Nancy pulled the bottle away from me.

"I must confess," Ford said as Erik and Mike pulled me up to a sitting position, "that I wasn't expecting much out of you. But you can drink piss like a fuckin' champ. I bet by now, you really have to go."

I nodded, and with another gesture to the strongmen, they pulled me to my feet, only to lay me on the tarp covering the floor. Following instructions, I rolled over onto my side. Nancy stepped over and dropped to his knees, laying down on his side, but with his head to my feet. Worming ourselves into position, I quickly had his pale, skinny cock in front of my face. As I felt him fumbling with my dick, I reached out to hold his, aiming it as I opened my mouth.

At roughly the same time, we both began pissing. This was less of a precision effort than before, but I managed to keep his stream pointed at my mouth and kept pace, swallowing as he pissed. As I emptied my own bladder into his mouth, I assume he was doing the same, though with a bit less success – I could feel some of my piss pooling on the tarp under my thigh.

"Piss-drinking sixty-nine," Ford said, to no-one in particular. "For you guys watching at home, don't say this isn't value for money."

He kept speaking to his subscribers, but I was too busy gulping down piss to follow it all. Nancy's was more salty and less bitter, and I was satisfied with its bouquet. He finished pissing, but I was still going, and I could hear him gulping as I idly ran my hand up and down his smooth, nylon-covered flank. When I finished pissing – and it was about as much as I could have held – he rolled over onto his back, panting.

But without a break, Ford ordered him up. He had Nancy sit on the couch between Erik and Mike. He had all three of them hunch forward so that their butts were over the edge of the cushion and then lean back, pulling their legs up so that there were three asses upturned in a row.

I was still lying on my side, waiting to be directed, and I wasn't surprised when Ford said to me, "now you may crawl over and lick each of those assholes."

In fact, I felt a massive flush of excitement and anticipation. So much so, I thought perhaps I'd stretch this out and prolong the moment for as long as possible. Gingerly raising myself to hands and knees, I tried to seductively slink across the floor. I tried to move like a cat, and as I reached the end of the couch, I turned up my face to rub against Erik's butt – cheek to cheek, as it were. I moved along the row, rubbing each of their asses in turn, then pivoted at the end, repeating the process with my other cheek. Then I turned back again, this time pausing behind each of them to move my face above their assholes and delicately sniff the area, absorbing each man's unique odor.

And then back again, finally making more contact. Starting with Mike, I chastely pecked at the center of his left buttock, then moved between his upraised legs and rubbed my cheeks against each of his hairy thighs. And then to Nancy's bony bottom and skinny thighs. And then Erik's taut ass, which was a beautiful thing – his butt could be the model for a Grecian sculpture.

And then zagging back, and now making closer contact, licking a circle around each asshole, but not yet yielding to the tempting target. And then finally, I settled in behind each of them and properly began to eat out their assholes. Ford was right above me with his camera, catching my tongue craning out to make contact with each manly rosebud.

I was in heaven. I'd always loved rimming, but most of my girlfriends had considered it to be a favor they were doing me instead of a pleasure I was trying to share with them. Here, I could tell each of these men enjoyed getting their assholes licked, and were spurring me on, calling for my tongue to move faster and deeper.

And I did, plowing into each of them, savoring each one's unique taste and texture. Mike's hairy asshole had a musky, tangy taste, as if his fur had trapped some of his sweat. Nancy's was puckered and quickly yielding, opening itself up quickly under my tongue-lashing. And Erik's sphincter felt like the rest of his body, like this was a strong muscle that could crush me on a whim.

I closed my eyes and burrowed into each of these. No matter what else happened, I felt as if this made the whole night worthwhile – and if I woke in the morning feeling like I went too far, I could remember that I got to do this.

I worked on each in turn for a couple minutes, and as I moved to start a second lap, Ford gestured for Nancy to move off the couch. he lowered his legs and climbed down as I was burying my face in Mike's ass, so I couldn't see what he was doing. I had been on hands and knees, and now, face planted against his backside, my arms were at his asscheeks, trying to pull them open as much as possible, when I felt a similar movement at my own backside. Nancy's fingers, slick with lube, were rubbing against my asshole. As I slid over to return to Erik's bottom, I felt a finger sliding into my asshole, moving in and out. As I plunged my tongue into Erik's tight hole, I pushed my ass back in welcome and Nancy added a second finger and was soon quickly pumping them in and out.

"Okay, knock it off," Ford said, and I felt Nancy's fingers withdraw. I sighed, as it was just getting to feel pretty good! But I could guess what was coming next, and indeed Ford directed the two musclemen off the couch, and indicating for Nancy and I to take their place, climbing up on our knees, gripping the back of the sofa as we stuck our asses out.

The other men moved behind us and I quickly felt a stream of lube drizzle onto my ass and a cock rubbing up and down against my asshole. I looked back over my shoulder to see that it was Mike preparing to fuck me. With one hand at the base of his cock, the other pulled back his foreskin and pressed the knob of his head against my opening. There was a momentary painful sensation as my asshole struggled against it, then relief as my sphincter yielded and Mike began to feed the length of his cock into me. I could see beside me that Nancy was receiving the same treatment – perhaps less gently, as his eyes were closed and he was biting his bottom lip as Erik penetrated him.

Mike's cock was inside me now, and I could feel myself relaxing and adjusting to its presence. He started to pump in and out, and I also closed my eyes, but there was no discomfort for me now, and I wanted to blank everything else out. I wasn't touching my cock – I wasn't sure that I should without instruction – but I could feel it pulsating with pleasure. In fact, if the stimulation of my prostate from Mike's cock kept up, I felt like I could be on the road to coming without touching myself at all. Heaven!

"All right, switch off," Ford said, and I felt Mike withdraw, breaking the building glow I was enjoying. The men behind us traded spots, and now I felt Erik's cock pressing against me....

"Ow! " I involuntarily uttered. I'd noted that Erik's cock had at least an inch more in length than Mike, but it hadn't registered with me that it was thicker, too – considerably thicker. And Erik wasn't hesitating in trying to jam the whole thing in me. His strong hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back toward him as he impaled me. He paused for an instant as his stroke withdrew from me – and then slammed back in with force.

"Yeah bitch," he hissed above me and he repeated the violent thrust into me. "Now you're getting fucked."

And he set to it, with repeated forceful lunges deep in my ass, as his hands held my body in position. Now I was biting my lip, and I was feeling jolts of discomfort with every push.

"Did you hear that Danny has never been fucked by a man before?" asked Ford, his camera up close to catch the slightly distressed expression on my face.

"He's gonna remember this one," Erik muttered, still rutting into me with forceful jolts.

Compared to the pleasurable sensations that Mike had been giving me, this hurt. My asshole wasn't adjusting to his invasion, and with every plunge he seemed to be entering me with as much force and depth as he could muster. If that weren't enough, he then began punctuating his thrusts with hard smacks on my buttocks, spanking me with gusto. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes tighter, hoping to wait him out.

I was drifting away a bit when I heard Ford's voice in the distance, and a smack across my face matched one on my ass. My eyes snapped open, and I now heard him speaking to me. "Wake up, whore! Keep looking at the camera. How does it feel to get really fucked?"

I could only answer between gasps as Erik's cock was still plunging into me. "It feels... ugh! like he's... tearing me apart!" Those last works came out like a desperate shout.

"Lisa, you're tearing me apart!" Erik howled, laughing as he leaned over me, like he was trying to force himself even deeper into me. He was bent right over me now, with one arm around my neck, as if he were about to choke me, although it wasn't constricting me yet.

"Tell him how much you like his cock," Ford said, the camera still held close on my face.

"I love your fucking cock," I managed to get out, though I felt like I could hardly speak.

Now his arm was starting to tighten against my throat. I was struggling to breathe, while still feeling the painful bursts from every thrust into my plundered ass. "What else do you have to say to him?" Ford asked.

My mind was blank. I wasn't really able to think what was going to get me in trouble – and I knew there was no point in asking him to stop. I could barely breathe... but not answering would just get me slapped. Out the corner of my eye I could see his inked-up bicep beside my face.

"I... like... your tattoos," I managed to hiss out.

With that the arm actually slackened, and suddenly I was gulping air. "Thanks," he said. His voice sounded as if he was genuinely pleased with the complement. "Did most of 'em myself, back when I was inside." He wasn't buggering me with any less force, however. "You like 'em? Well, I'm going to make you my bitch, don't you worry."