Peter woke to a pounding in his head that just would not quit. He screwed his eyes shut tight and opened them again, trying to remember what had happened last night. He lifted his hand towards his head in an attempt to massage some semblance of life back into his befuddled brain, only to have it jerk to a stop about six inches above the mattress. Ignoring the lancing pain, he turned his head and saw that his wrist had a loop of towelling, like the belt of a bathrobe fastened securely around it. He jerked his arm against the restraint but only managed to tighten it further. Turning his head to the other side, Peter could see that his other wrist was fastened in a similar way, He levered himself up as far as he could and looked down at his naked body. His ankles and knees were securely bound together with strips of towelling and he could not loosen them.
Relaxing his neck muscles, Peter let his head fall back onto the bed. Desperately he cast his mind back to last night. He remembered the guys from the office insisting on taking him out to celebrate his promotion. They had seemed pleased that, at 22, he had made the leap to team leader. Peter remembered the bar and drinking too much beer. Not being a great drinker, it had gone to his head and stomach, making him really nauseous. He had staggered to the bathroom and heaved the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. Thankful that it was Friday night and he would be able to recover over the weekend, Peter had gone back into the bar, to find that his friends had left. He left his last beer on the bar and staggered out into the street. Across the road he thought he saw one of the guys entering a club doorway. He dashed over, to tell them he would be calling it a night.
The club was down a steep flight of stairs and very dimly lit. He could barely think, the music pounded so loudly. He leaned against the bar for a moment, and a waiter approached him. Peter suddenly realised that his mouth was as dry as dust and he had a sour taste from the beer he had thrown up. He bellowed an order for a coke into the waiter’s ear and looked around. He still could not see the guys from the office, but the club was dark and there were a number of alcoves. One group seemed to be watching him from their booth but he paid no attention to them. The waiter reappeared with his drink, took his money and weaved between the tables in search of other orders.
Pete remembered drinking the coke, and thought he remembered that the drink was a little flat, as though it had been opened for a while. After that, nothing.
“Guys!” Peter shouted, “this isn’t funny, let me up I need the bathroom.”
The door opened and a broad shouldered man stepped into the room. From his movements, Peter guessed that he was in his early forties. He was tall and well toned, the black t-shirt and denims encasing a muscular physique. Peter had no way of telling what the guy looked like, because he was wearing a black hood with slits for the eyes.
“Good, you’re awake,” the figure said. His voice was deep and pleasant, almost friendly. There was no menace in his tone, just a sort of indifference and a trace of boredom. He crossed the room and loosened the towelling around Peter’s wrists, allowing him to sit upright. Then he squeezed his cheeks to open Peter’s mouth and poured a little bitter-tasting liquid inside. Peter tried to spit the liquid out but the man tapped his throat, making him swallow, reflexively.
“Don’t worry,” his captor told him, “it’s just a soluble aspirin for your headache.”
With that he left the room, leaving Peter with his thoughts. Peter looked around him and saw a bare room painted in a pale blue emulsion. The window was hidden behind a blind and the only furniture in the room was the iron-framed bed he had been fastened to and a single armchair.
The door opened again and Peter looked up as three well-built, masked, men entered and took up positions on either side of the bed. He was almost paralysed with fear as they unfastened the bindings around his wrists. Two of them grabbed his arms and dragged him across the bed on his belly. The third pinched his nose until he gasped for air and then forced a ball gag into his mouth, fastening it securely. Peter tried to struggle, but the men holding his arms were obviously practiced and all he managed to do was make his shoulders ache.
Peter felt hands on the cheeks of his ass and whimpered through the gag as rough fingers spread the cheeks and pressed against his anus. Peter felt a burning pain as a finger was pressed against his asshole and thrust inwards. His unseen tormentor pushed and twisted the finger inside him, working it deeper and deeper. Peter could feel the scrape of his fingernail and the bulge of a knuckle, as the finger probed deeper and deeper. He tried to protest and struggle, but the hands on his arms held him tightly, pinning him to the bed and holding him still. Peter realised then that there was no escaping his fate.
The room seemed to quieten, for a moment, and there was the sound of a zipper being pulled down. Peter felt his cheeks pulled wide and the two captors holding his arms looked along the curve of his back. They could see their boss take his cock in his hand and begin to press the swollen, shiny, head against Peter’s virgin asshole. They watched him shove the head against Peter’s tight, dry asshole and heard him grunt as the bulging head, lubricated only by a few drops of his pre-cum pressed against the tightly clenched opening.
Peter felt a burning pain in his ass, worse than the exploring finger, and he tried to scream through the gag. The pain subsided as the cock was pulled back and Peter felt a curious wet, stinging sensation as his ass was roughly opened and lubricated with spit. Peter felt the burning in his ass as the guy pressed the bulb of his cock against the virgin opening. He tried to scream as the cock was pushed slowly into his ass, stretching the delicate tissue, tearing him open. All he could feel was the burning in his rectum as he was brutally stretched. Snot ran from his nose as he sobbed with the pain of the hard cock ramming into his ass.
The two captors holding him down looked at their boss as he rammed his cock hard and deep into Peter’s ass. Peter pushed against him, trying to force the cock out, but only managed to make the entry easier. The rapist rammed once more holding onto his hips as he spurted thick ropes of cum into Peter’s bowel. Pulling back, he displayed a still-firm cock streaked with blood and cum and filth from Peter’s ass.
He signalled to the two holding him down and they hauled him off the bed, supporting his weight as their leader stripped the ball gag from Peter’s mouth. Peter was gasping and panting as he soiled his thighs and legs with a mixture of filth and cum. The filthy cock was almost touching his lips as the man grabbed a handful of Peter’s hair and wrenched his head back, so that he could stuff the length of his cock into Peter’s mouth.
“Suck it clean bitch!” he growled.
Peter could do nothing but obey and he gagged on the hard rod at the back of his mouth and the bitter tasting solids from his bowel smeared over the hard cock. The assailant even spurted a few strings of cum into Peter’s mouth before withdrawing. The two men released him to fall in a heap on the floor.
As he walked to the door the rapist zipped his pants up and threw his hood to the floor. Turning, he barked at Peter,” I told you that you would have to earn your new position. I’ll see you in the office on Monday.”
Peter just lay on the floor and whispered, submissively, “Y-Yes sir.”