I was at an after party for a major awards show. I had won for "Best New Artist" and I was really taking advantage of the open bar to drink to my success. My girlfriend was over talking to some other glammed up women when this man in all black, sporting an impressive moustache, came over to me and congratulated me on my win.
I don't know how coherent I was, but I managed to say thanks and let him get me another drink. He moved away after a few minutes and I stumbled to the men's to do what most men do there. I was feeling less than steady on my feet and the hallway tilted like something out of a Blackpool fun house, but I think I managed to get to it.
The next thing that registered at all I was laying down in the back of a moving vehicle, I tried to sit up and open the door but a hand restrained my arm and a disembodied voice warned me that we were going pretty fast and if I fell out of the car I'd be smashed to pieces.
When I came to, after a fashion, I was lying on my back on a bed. My shirt was open and my arms were fixed straight out to my sides with what felt like leather cuffs. My head was swimming and the room seemed really fuzzy around the edges.
Hospital? I vaguely hoped. But when a mouth pressed itself over mine and began kissing me, I had the feeling that I was not going to get the kiss of life here. OK, I thought I could deal with being kissed; my lips being tickled and scratched by a moustache was a new sensation, not altogether unpleasant, just different.
When he parted my lips to tongue me I clamped my jaws tight. He chuckled "I see you're awake" and then, "OK we'll move on to something else."
And he did. I felt the weight of his body on mine as he slid down, opened my shirt further and ran his hands over my chest. "Smooth as a boy's" he murmured, before he bent to take one of my nipples in his teeth. I made a noise of shock and protest and tried to buck him off of me. He just laughed at my efforts and bit down harder.
It finally made it through my booze and whatever else addled brain that I was totally in this person's control. He outweighed me, and guessing by the way he easily covered my body with his, was at least half again my height. Considering I'm not a very tall man this wasn't exactly hard.
Speaking of hard, I know I wasn't but I certainly could tell he was. When he left off my nipples and moved down further he straddled my legs and sat up on them. Somewhere along the evening I seemed to have been stripped from the waist down and his jean wrapped erection, like a rock pressed into my thigh, sent panic waves to my brain.
He reached for something off to the side of the bed, I heard a click and then my album started playing in the room. He leaned over me and took my head in his hands, he got very close to my face and said; "You really are beautiful." When I said nothing, he tightened his grip, "You know that you want this. I can tell by listening to your music. You are too sensitive to be straight, despite all your interviews where you claim to be. I'm going to do you a favour, and show you your true nature."
Oh god! Talk to this guy! My voice sounded really far away, "I'm not gay, I'm not sure how to convince you of that but I have a girlfriend!" I swallowed trying to get the spit to come back into my dry mouth "look I don't know who you are, if you let me go now I promise not to try to track you down or call the police."
My words were met by a few moments of silence, aside from the next song on the CD. It was very surreal to be in this situation on its own, but to have my voice singing to me as the soundtrack to it was not helping.
"Denial is a sad thing. You'll see I'm right." With that he took my legs in his arms and my cock into his mouth. I tried to free myself but he tightened his grip on my legs and held them firmly down at his side.
All right, I thought to myself, this is nothing new you can deal with this. I closed my eyes and tried to picture my girlfriend's lips there instead of his, but the moustache bristling against my shaft was making that really difficult.
Switching gears, I tried to picture my military schoolmate instead. I wasn't pure in that regard, after I went to an all boy's school from boarding to military school, and did have a few incidents of mutual masturbation and one time, drunk on cheap stolen wine, did let one of my classmates go down on me.
It wasn't working. I could not get the reality of the situation out of my mind; I knew it was leading up to something I wouldn't allow myself to name.
He paused in his efforts and spit onto his fingers, then again bent to take me in his mouth, this time introducing one finger, then another into my ass. This was something I had never felt before, the first finger went in with almost no sensation more than it felt really weird to have something there. The second one felt uncomfortable, not exactly painful but full, like I really had to take a dump, but when he added a third the pain shot up to my chest and when he began to stretch me out, I again tried to get free.
I made a sound in my throat that startled me when he lifted my body and added his tongue to where he had placed his fingers. "Relax and enjoy it" his voice floated up, "if you tense up it will only get worse."
My knees were over his shoulders and my legs were bent back and clamped under his arms preventing me from kicking him I guess. I hooked my feet under his chest and with strength fuelled by panic managed to set him back on his knees and disengage him from his efforts.