The van pulled to a halt. I’d been in here – I don’t know – twenty minutes, thirty? Many corners as I rocked from side to side on the bare floor.
I’d been packing my kit up after work on the site, and had just shut the doors on my van when I was pushed hard up against the panels, knocking the air out of me. A bag was quickly dropped over my head, and I felt my arms being pulled behind me and wrists held together by something thin – cable-tie perhaps? I was pulled away from my van, and a thick arm roughly put round my neck and I was marched away through the mud, then picked up and rolled into another vehicle. I felt my ankles being bound together, then they were dragged to one side and after a second or two I realised they’d been anchored to something inside – another works van I was guessing. I felt the van sag to one side as the driver got in and we set off.
The van was quiet for about a minute or so after it had stopped, then I felt the driver get out and heard them walk round to the back. The doors were opened and I could feel warm air rush in. I heard the snap of a cable-tie being cut, and my feet were dragged out till I was sitting on the edge of the van, then my neck was grabbed and I rolled out onto my knees in what felt like soft mud, and because my hands were behind my back I couldn’t break my fall and fell face down. There was a chuckle from beside me.
I was pulled up by the hood of my hoodie, and struggled to get to my feet. The bag over my head was loose at the bottom, and I could breathe fairly easily, see my feet, muddy boots and all but that was it. The arm went round my neck again, and I was bent over and marched into a building – quite a large one by the echoey sound our footsteps made. We got a good few footsteps inside.
“Kneel,” I was told in a gruff voice. I knelt. The ground was hard – concrete? “Bow your head – study the floor…”
As demanded, I bowed my head. The bag was whipped off, but was quickly replaced by a more efficient blindfold – now I couldn’t see anything.
“Open yer mouth, cunt.” I opened my mouth and a ball gag (fairly sure that’s what it was) was pushed in by rough hands and fastened behind me. I felt thumb and fingers cradle my chin and my head was pulled up. “Fuckin’ lovely. Muddy pig.” Then he spat in my face and ruffled my hair.
“You want a piss?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Yes ya do.”
I shook my head again.
“Piss yerself then.”
I shook my head even more.
“Piss yerself!”
I kept shaking my head.
“PISS! YOUR! SELF!” he yelled not quite in my ear.
My bladder emptied into my jock and then into my work trousers, a full afternoon’s worth of tea and water.
There was another chuckle. “Pissy pig.” I felt some pressure on the backs of my calves as if he were sitting on them. There was a snicking sound, and I realised the cable-tie round my wrists had been cut. The arm went round my neck again. “Hold yer arms out to each side,” he whispered in my ear. I obeyed.
Something cold and metallic slid past my right hand into the sleeve of my hoodie, and passed through, across my back, and then out my left wrist. There was a grunt of satisfaction, then two metallic clicks. I could feel the weight of the rod or bar or whatever it was start to topple me forwards when…
… It stopped. I was swaying a little back and forth on my knees, so a good guess would be the bar was suspended from something. My feet were pulled behind me till I was sort of prone; front off the ground, feet just on it. My arse was roughly felt up, and the hand went under to check out my pissed up trousers. The hand then rubbed the exposed parts of my face and up into my hair again.
He went round behind me and kicked my feet apart. “Hope these trousers weren’t new,” he said. Then I felt something cutting away at the arse seam, undoing the stitching enough so that two hands could get a good grip and rip the seam apart, exposing my bare arse to the warm humid air. The hands reached under, undid the fly zip and reached in to roughly pull my cock out from its pissed up jock and let it dangle. “You need to be more engaged…” said the voice after a pause, fading as it walked away.
The footsteps came back towards me, and there was a clank as something metallic was put on the floor. Something cold was applied to my arse, and then worked inside. An object was then gently worked up me until it hit my prostate and stayed there, gently thrumming as my cock got harder and harder.
He turned his attention to my cock then, working lube onto it, then something was slid up over it. There was a click and whatever it was seemed to latch on tight, making my cock now rock hard. The footsteps went off to one side.
“Fuckin’ lovely.” There was another click. Whatever was up my arse started thrumming against my prostate more intently, and whatever was on my cock started moving, wanking me off. The ball gag was taken off me, and my head pulled onto a roughly clothed groin. I could feel the bulge under the material as it was pushed onto my mouth.
I was pushed away, then brought back, this time to have a cock pushed against my lips. “Open, cunt.” I opened and a cock with a good girth was pushed inside, rough enough to let me know who was in charge, gentle enough not to gag. With me suspended a good rhythm got set up and eventually all his cock was going in and out of my mouth, all the while my arse and prostate were being buzzed and my cock mechanically wanked. I was now very hot and had no doubt my hoodie was stained with sweat as well as mud, and my cock was leaking precum like I was pissing it.
The mechanical wanking got to the point where I didn’t think I could hold back. “Gonna cum…” I managed to get out. I just got a chuckle in reply and the cock went back in my mouth. I blew my load into whatever it was wanking me off, but it didn’t stop. The face fucking didn’t stop. The arse teasing didn’t stop.
After a minute, the cock pulled out of my mouth. “Good load,” I heard, though the mechanical wank continued. I thought my cock would get soft, but the arse teasing and wanking kept it hard.
I then realised I was being lowered to the floor, still arse teased, still wanked. I felt him sit across my back. “Relax,” he said, as if I could. The pole or rod was slipped out from my sleeves and I could bend my arms again. The arse toy was removed and replaced by what felt like fingers. “Yeah – piggy ready.” The fingers were replaced by a cock, and my arms held tight to the ground, a weight on my entire body. The mechanical wanker stepped up a notch too.
Slowly he started to fuck me, breath in my ear, silent at first. Long deep strokes hitting my prostate, making more precum, more lube for the wanker. Then he started to build up speed, his sweat dripping on to me. “Take it, cunt.” His thrusts got rougher, more urgent, one hand gripping my arms tight in place, one arm round my neck. I could feel another load building up in me from the mechanical device.
“Gonna cum…” I managed to say.
“FUCK YEAH!” he yelled. “Do it cunt, fuckin’ fill that up like I’m gonna fill you up!”
With a big push he stopped and held his cock inside me, then I felt his cock pulse after pulse after pulse as his cum emptied out inside me. That pushed me over the edge and I shot a second load into whatever was milking me off.
There was a click and the pulsing on my cock stopped. His cock stayed hard inside me and he just lay on top, arm round my neck, hands tightly held, both steaming in the heat.
Eventually he spoke. “Meet again? Next month?”
“Yes please…”
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