My new arrogant boss is someone I know - Chapter 6 (Patreon)

Author’s note: All my characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the adult characters.

Chapter 6

A few days had passed since the private dinner.

Calum was out of the office for a few days, on a trip with her wife and Liam, my best friend and his son. I went to the office every day, did my work, and tried to pretend the plug he had ordered me to wear for three full days afterward had been the end of it. It wasn’t. I miss my mean boss and that’s fucked up.

Then the message came on a Thursday night.

Calum: Be ready Friday after work. Black car will pick you up at seven. No plans. Don’t ask questions.

That was all.

Friday evening around 11pm the black car was already waiting at the curb when I stepped outside. The driver didn’t speak. Twenty minutes later we stopped in front of an unmarked black door on night life part of the city. Calum was already there, leaning against the wall in a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the same cold eyes. He looked me over once, slow and thorough.

“Miss me?” he asked, voice flat.

I nodded. My throat was already tight.

“Yes, Mr. Calum.”

He pushed the buzzer. Inside it smelled like steam, pools and sex. A private gay sauna. Dim red lighting. The low thump of house music. Men moving through corridors in towels or nothing at all. Dozens of men.

Calum paid for both of us without speaking. In the locker room he told me to strip and use only the jockstrap. He kept his own white towel slung low around his hips. When I was naked he opened a small black bag and took out leather cuffs connected by short chains, and a wider collar.

“Arms behind your back.”

I turned. He cuffed my wrists tightly, then buckled the collar around my neck and clipped a short leash to the ring. He gave it a testing tug.

“Walk, faggot.”

He led me deeper into the sauna, past the wet area, past dark rooms where shadows moved and low wet sloppy sounds drifted out, until we reached a larger play space at the back. In the center stood a heavy leather sling — thick black straps, sturdy metal frame, adjustable stirrups. The leather was already darkened from use.

Calum stopped me in front of it.

“Up, up boy.”

He open the cuffs and helped me into the sling, guiding my legs into the stirrups and securing the wide straps around my thighs so I was fully suspended, ass at the edge, completely open. The position left my hole exposed under the low red lights, tilted at the perfect height for a standing man to step between my legs and push in. Calum adjusted the height until he was satisfied, then stepped back and looked at me hanging there.

“You’re going to take every guy that comes to you tonight,” he said quietly. “Every cock. Every load. You’re not going to close this hole until I say so. Understand? You can’t say no, do you agree?”

“Yes, sir.”

He gave a short nod, then turned his head toward the open doorway where several men were already watching.

“He’s open,” he called out, voice calm and carrying. “My private cumdump is available tonight gentlemen. No limits. Don’t be gentle. He likes it rough.” He laughed dryly.

The first one stepped forward almost immediately.

He was around thirty, tall, gym-built, with a smooth chest still damp from the showers and a thick cock already hard in his fist. He didn’t speak. He stepped between my spread legs, rubbed the head of his cock against my hole once, and pushed in. The stretch made me gasp. He bottomed out in one steady thrust and started fucking me in deep, controlled strokes, hands locked on the straps of the sling for leverage.

“Fuck, he’s tight,” he muttered.

Calum watched from the side, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

The man came after a few minutes with a low grunt, pulsing deep inside me. He pulled out and stepped away. The next one was already moving in — shorter, thicker through the chest, with a dark happy trail and a heavy uncut cock. He shoved in while the previous load was still leaking out of me and fucked me harder.

“Sloppy already,” he said, almost pleased. “Perfect.”

“He’s gonna be sloppier later, if you want a second round.”

“Fuck yeah, man. Good pussy.”

He came quickly and was replaced by two more in quick succession. One was lean and sharp-looking, with tattoos down both arms; he spat on my hole before pushing in and fucked me with short, vicious strokes while muttering about what a good little dumpster I was. The other was older, maybe late forties, solid and silver at the temples. He ground deep, one hand resting on my stomach, and came with a quiet, satisfied sound.

A tall Black man stepped up next, skin gleaming under the red lights, thick thighs flexing as he positioned himself. His cock was heavy and dark, the head already slick. He pushed in with one long thrust and immediately started fucking me in deep, powerful strokes that made the entire sling rock. Every time he pound me I felt the air leave my lungs. He didn’t say a word the entire time — just used my hole with steady, relentless force until he came with a low growl, flooding me with another hot load.

A Latino guy with a sharp jaw and a gold chain around his neck took his place right after. He spat on my already messy hole, rubbed the head of his thick cock through the cum, and shoved in hard. “Look at this fucking cumdump.” he muttered, gripping the straps and slamming into me. He fucked like he was angry at the hole itself, short and brutal, until he buried himself deep and pulsed hard inside me.

A completely bald man with a solid, muscular build and a mean smile on his mouth stepped between my legs next. He was almost a twin brother of my boss but more muscular. He didn’t even stroke himself first. He just lined up and pushed in, stretching me open around a thick, veiny cock. He kept one hand on my throat and the other on the frame of the sling, fucking me in long, punishing strokes while staring down at the way my hole swallowed him. When he came he ground in deep and held there, making sure every drop stayed inside.

Someone wearing a black balaclava moved in after him. Only his eyes and mouth were visible. He didn’t speak. He simply stepped up, pushed his cock into the mess of cum, and started fucking me with mechanical, almost clinical roughness. The anonymity made it worse somehow. I couldn’t see his face, only feel the thick length driving into me over and over until he finished with a sharp exhale and pulled out, leaving me dripping again.

A lean twink with a smooth chest and a surprisingly long cock surprised me by being one of the roughest. He climbed half onto the sling for better leverage and fucked me in fast, shallow strokes that made wet, filthy sounds fill the room. 

“Take it, you broken little hole,” he muttered, almost laughing. He came quickly, pulling out halfway so the last spurts landed across my open, ruined rim.

A man with a heavy metallic cock ring at the base of his shaft stepped up next. The cold metal dragged against my stretched hole every time he pushed in, adding a sharp, strange pressure to the already overwhelming stretch. He fucked me slowly at first, clearly enjoying the way the rings caught on my rim, then harder, until the metal and the thick cock together forced another broken sound out of me. When he came the ring kept him hard  for several long seconds.

A broad, older bear with a thick gut and a heavier pair of balls than most took his time. He rubbed his rough fingers up and down through the mess of cum first, then pushed in with a satisfied grunt. He fucked me in deep, rolling thrusts, one hand spreading me open so he could watch his cock disappear. “Perfect little cumdump,” he muttered. “Can he take fisting?” Asked the bear to my boss.

“No.” Calum replied assertively.  “Just dump your load and move, there’s a line forming already.” He came slowly, pulsing for 10 seconds, adding even more weight to everything already inside me.

A fit Asian guy with almost no body hair and a long, slightly curved cock used me next. The curve made him drag against the front wall of my hole with every stroke, forcing sharp, involuntary sounds out of my throat. He fucked in silence, jaw tight, until he suddenly buried himself and came hard, hips stuttering.

Two blond men that spoke in Dutch or something like that came up together. One held my legs wider while the other pushed in and started fucking. After a minute they switched without pulling all the way out, the second cock replacing the first in one slick motion. They passed me back and forth like that for a while, laughing under their breath, until both had added their loads to the rest.

Next was one of the hardest challenges of the night. A bull man — tall, covered in tattoos, with a thick Prince Albert piercing — stepped up and pushed the cold metal bead against my open hole before sliding in. He should be in his thirties. The piercing dragged along my insides with every thrust, a sharp, constant reminder of how used I already was. He fucked me hard and deep until he came with a low curse, the metal still pressing inside me as he pulsed.

Load after load was pumped into me.

Calum never left my side. He stood close enough that I could smell the clean sweat on his skin. Every time a man finished and stepped away, Calum would reach down, spread my cheeks with two fingers, and inspect the open, dripping hole like he was checking the progress of a job.

“Still taking it,” he would say quietly. “Good.”

The room filled. Word moved through the sauna. Men came in ones and twos — most of them fit, athletic, good-looking guys in their twenties and thirties with solid cocks and the casual arrogance of men who knew they were desired. They fucked me like I was furniture. Some talked. Most didn’t. They simply stepped up, pushed into the growing mess of cum, and used the hole until they finished.

One of them — tall, dark-haired, with a runner’s body — stayed longer than the others. He fucked me in slow, deep strokes while looking down at my face.

“How many is that?” he asked Calum.

“More than thirty, already.” Calum answered. “Keep going. He’s not ready to leave yet.”

The man laughed under his breath and came hard, adding another thick load to the rest.

My hole was softening now like a used pussy, opening more easily for each new cock, making wet, filthy sounds every time someone pushed in. Cum ran down the leather of the sling and dripped onto the floor in slow, heavy drops. My own cock stayed hard against my stomach inside the jockstraps. If I touched it I would cum immediately.

A pair of older men took me one after the other — both in their fifties, thick around the middle but still strong, with heavy cocks and the kind of rough, practiced rhythm that said they had been using community holes like mine for years. One of them held my legs wider while he fucked me and told Calum I had the kind of slutty, broken-in ass that was wasted on only one man.

Calum only nodded once.

“That’s why I brought him, to be whored out.”

The night blurred into heat and friction and the constant wet noise of cock after cock driving into me. I stopped trying to count after twenty something, I was in a daze. My throat was dry from breathing with my mouth open and moaning and screaming. My arms and legs ached. Every new thrust sent another trickle of cum out of me and down the leather straps.

At some point a group of four younger guys came in together — all gym-built, all loud, all clearly high on the idea of sharing a suspended cumdump. They took turns in rapid succession, cheering each other on, slapping my ass, spreading me open so the next one could watch the previous load get pushed deeper. One of them came across my hole instead of inside and the next one immediately shoved the mess back in with his cock while the others laughed.

Calum watched all of it without blinking.

“Harder,” he told one of them when the pace slowed. “He’s not going to break. He can’t take it.”

The man listened and used me like I was a sex doll.

More men came. A tall one with a thick, curved cock that dragged against the front wall of my hole with every thrust. A shorter, stockier one who spat on me repeatedly and called me a dirty little dump while he used me. A quiet, extremely fit man who fucked me in complete silence and came with only a sharp exhale. An older silver fox with a heavy cock who took his time and left me dripping more than most.

My hole was completely soft now, open and ruined, making wet, obscene sounds every time a new cock pushed into the mess. Cum covered the insides of my thighs, the leather straps, the floor beneath the sling in a spreading puddle. I could feel it moving inside me every time I breathed — a heavy, filthy warmth that had no more room to go.

Calum stepped between my legs when the last of the casual users finally drifted away. There are some guys at the door with hard dicks but my boss announced.

“His pussy is closed gentlemen, sorry. Try your luck next Friday or Saturday, he will be back.”

He looked down at the destroyed hole for a long moment, then freed his own cock from the towel.

“One more,” he said quietly.

He pushed into me slowly, feeling every soft, overused inch of the hole he had spent the night filling. The sensation made him exhale hard through his nose. He fucked me in deep, possessive strokes, hands locked on the straps, while I hung there completely open for him.

“Fifty-six,” he muttered after a while. “I counted. Fifty-six loads in my intern’s ass in one night. Push the loads out onto my dick. Now.”

I pushed and I felt a relief, coating my bosses’s cock with dozens of loads from dozens of men.

He entered me again with his cummy shaft and came with a low, rough sound, adding his own thick pulse to everything already inside me. He stayed buried for a long time afterward, just breathing, feeling the heat and the mess he had created.

When he finally pulled out, a heavy rush of cum followed and spilled down the leather in a thick stream.

Calum unclipped the leash and carefully helped me out of the sling. My legs would not hold me. He had to support most of my weight. Cum ran down my thighs in heavy streaks and dripped onto the floor with every step as he led me back toward the locker room.

He cleaned me roughly with warm towels, dressed me in my clothes and walked me out to the waiting car with one solid arm around my waist. I sat in the back seat with my hole still open and leaking, the heavy, filthy feeling of dozens of loads still moving inside me every time the car turned.

Calum sat beside me in silence for a long time.

Then, without looking at me, he said:

“Next weekend we are doing it again. I’ll find a bigger place.”

I closed my eyes and felt another slow trickle of cum escape me and soak into the seat.

“Yes, sir.”

I wish my hot best friend, Liam, could see my sloppy hole and use it too… I always had a crush on him but instead, I was turned into his father’s personal cumdump.

All characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the characters.