Mistaen Identity

Chapter Five

"Finale," said Sir, stroking my head. There was more rummaging in the bag of tricks, and what came out was brandished before me. First was another butt plug but this time it was hollow. I was a bit alarmed at that, wondering what would go down there.

Not that I could do anything about it, chained as I was to their fucking-bench. I felt the plug in my ass pop out and this new one inserted before I guess my gape had time to close -- certainly it went in without resistance and slotted in place: God, it made me feel vulnerable. Then the other butt plug was presented to me for cleaning. There was no doubt that I would so it. I slobbered my tongue over it, cleaning it as best I could, losing myself in the depravity.

Next, I was shown a complicated looking gag of some kind. Then I recognised it from porn videos I'd seen; it was a urinal gag. A collection tray at the front and a tube into the victim's mouth -- my mouth -- to ensure not a drop of piss was wasted and it had nowhere to go but in my mouth. They fitted it to me and I made no attempt to struggle. Not that I could anyway. Sir leaned down and released the dog leash and I was able to move my head at last.

"You will need to lean your head back," he explained, without any emotion. They carried on talking, gesturing towards me now and again, but I could not understand what they were saying. It made me feel like nothing more than a commodity, like a washing machine. Or at least, a cock washing machine... It also made me feel oddly calm, being talked about like this. That was hard to understand, but I guessed I would have time enough to pick through these events to try to understand them in the coming days. Right now, thinking was giving way to dumb acceptance.

Pavel came forward, grinning malevolently. He flopped his cock into the urinal tray and let go. The tray filled and I readied myself. It was strong but there was little time to taste. The liquid was coming fast and I had to swallow to make sure I could breathe properly, as my nose was quite bunged up after my exertions so far. The stream slowed and I could no longer see Sir or Erich. Then I realised why my new butt plug was hollow.

I couldn't exactly feel the liquid in my ass but I felt the change of temperature and I felt the space filling up. I had no idea who was pissing in my ass but that's what they were surely doing. Christ! They were pissing in me. Not on me -- in me! I could hear laughter behind me and could see Pavel sneering at me. That man utterly despised me. They adjusted the position of my ass and then the sensation started over again. There was a lot of piss going in and it started leaking out, down over my balls and soaking through my freshly shaved areas and through the cage. The gag was taken from my mouth and put under my balls so the excess wasn't wasted. When it filled it, they handed it to Pavel who delighted in squeezing my nose so my mouth opened and pouring it in. He needn't have done that, but it felt quite nice being forced like that. I felt something jerk the end of my butt plug and guessed it was some kind of bung being inserted, keeping all that piss inside.

And then my ankles were being unclipped, along with my wrists. I was free. Sort of. Apart the nakedness, the plug, the cock cage, the general state of me. I was unchained, yet I stayed where I was, unwilling to move without permission. They talked among themselves again.

"Get up and walk over to the table," ordered Sir. I got up, stiffly, realising I was quite bruised from the fucking I'd received. Walking was weird, and difficult as I was not only plugged but full of piss, even though there was some leakage. I waddled over to the table and turned to face them. Pavel got his phone out and made to video me, but Sir stopped him. Sir looked at me:

"You enjoy being fuck boy? Being piss pot? Yes?"

"Yes Sir," I replied.

"We think you are total faggot."

I remained silent. He bought over a bowl and fitted the urinal gag on me again. The pressed my shoulders, encouraging me into a squat.

"There. Stay," he commanded.

He reached out and took the bung out the hollow butt plug. Everything flowed out and into the bowl: piss, spunk, bits of waste. I sank to my knees, presenting the gag to Sir, who laughed that cock-twitching derisive laugh once more. He started to pour it in and a leant my head back and swallowed everything. I felt the lowest creature on earth and revelled in it, knocking back the noxious fluid as if it were ale. It was vile. It was intoxicating. It was incredible. When it was done, I took off the gag and grabbed the bowl. I put it on the floor and started licking the inside of it. If I was going to be a faggot then I was going to be a good one. They stood watching me as I tongue-cleaned the bowl. Erich looked on with lust in his eyes, Sir just smiling. Pavel spat on the ground in contempt.

"Okay," said Sir, decisively. "You sit". He got out an old metal fold-up chair and put it up by a wall. I was about to sit when he stopped me and bent me forward. He withdrew the hollow tube from my ass. I could feel it gape before it started to close. I wished I could have seen it.

I sat and he knelt to remove my ankle and wrist cuffs and the dog collar, fiddling patiently with the padlock. I had not seen that Pavel had got a hose while he was doing this and suddenly Sir stood back and a stream of cold water hit me. It was being sprayed all over me. God, it was shocking, and I gasped as the cum and piss and slime and lube was blasted from my body. Pavel was laughing.

"Up", said Sir. I stood and turned around. And then I bent over, and Pavel's aim was sure as water jetted at my hole. I yelped but stayed where I was as the filth was washed from me. I stood up and turned again and the water stopped. I sat back down, shivering. Sir threw a ragged towel at me. I wiped my head and face and bits of my body. It had been horrible, but I did feel clean at least. I stopped shivering and looked at them. Sir motioned to the table and there was my bag, my clothes, all neatly folded and ready for me to wear.

"You get dressed in a minute. We talk first. You be naked for talk because you are a total faggot." His voice was again factual, not judgemental.

"Yes Sir." I sat, patiently waiting.

"My friend was going to take video and I stop him. You know why?"

I didn't.

"Because I not want trouble. Only get no trouble when you know exactly what deal is. Yes? You understand?"

"I think so, Sir."

"Good." He glanced at the other two and leant his head down to light another cigarette. "Tell me if you liked today. If you had good time."

This was difficult for me. I was clean and the sex was over. But I was naked before these men and being asked to tell them how I felt about the use and abuse I had had. I swallowed, fighting my natural inhibitions, then decided I would liberate myself with the complete truth. After all I had done so far today, what the hell was the point of modesty? That ship had long sailed. I began slowly:

"I did enjoy today, Sir. It was really unexpected and I don't do things like this normally. I certainly don't offer to suck off strangers. But I did today." As I got into my stride, the pace of my words quickened: "I enjoyed being helpless and tied, I enjoyed submitting, and I enjoyed the intense fucking, the smell and taste of cum and piss. I really enjoyed sucking the cocks that had just fucked me, and rimming, both things I had never done before today. I enjoyed being called a faggot. I enjoyed being used. I enjoyed you laughing at me and treating me so low, being used for pleasure." I gulped: "And I enjoyed not being allowed to cum."

I swallowed hard. It was all true, but I hadn't really meant to go quite that far in my admission.

Sir appraised me, rolling his cigarette between his thumb and finger, using it to think with almost. I was being judged, which was fair enough, given what I had done and the nature of my confession. He nodded, firmly.

"You get some choice now, and you can think about it. Don't answer now," he said, blowing a funnel of smoke upwards. "Only action does talking." I watched as the solid stream thrust upwards then dissipated on the gentle breeze, disappearing into air, dissolving into dust. I was trying to listen, trying to comprehend. I remained silent.

"First you can get dressed and go and we won't stop you. No photos or anything about today. Only us four know." I nodded. "We leave you here. You are maybe one kilometre from the river, down that track. I want you to walk so you remember the way and know how to get back here again. We are not far from where I picked you up."

His voice now changed tone, being more direct and authoritative than before. "I enjoyed using you today. You are proper faggot. If you had put what you did today in advert, I would not have believed you. You are rare. Rare and good." I felt an absurd surge of pride.

"But you could be more. I want you to come back to this place next Saturday -- six days from now. If you come back then you will be here until Sunday. There will be photos and videos. There will be more men here. I do not know how many but you will be used by everyone. We are a group and we share. You will get used hard. I guarantee you will be set free on Sunday, if that's what you want."

I looked at him sharply. English was his second language but it was still an odd choice of words. He seemed to understand my unspoken look: "Everything is possible so think of next week as audition." He smirked to himself and gave that derisive laugh again. My cock swelled in its prison. "Your choice though. If you no come back then that is end of it."

He came over to me and stroked my face and head gently. "You look cute in cock cage. I leave it on. You come back to me desperate. And you lose hair. Shave chest, armpits, legs. No body hair. You come back looking like faggot."

Pavel said something to Sir who replied tersely. He turned to me, explaining: "My friend says you no come back but I think you do. I think you will come back for hard use. This who you are." He placed both palms on my cheeks, leaning in and looking into my eyes. "You. Are. Faggot." I swallowed, saying nothing.

And then there was activity. Erich was putting on a crash helmet and Pavel was putting things away and I was getting dressed. It didn't take long. I was outside the shed and Sir and Pavel were closing the doors. Erich's bike roared off. They told me to start walking down the track. I obeyed without a further word. I had reached a gate when their respective cabs pulled up. Sir got out but Pavel drove on. I watched Sir close and padlock the gates and then drive off. Nothing more was said.

I looked around, committing my surroundings to memory. I could see the river and set off down a track towards it. I ached and I was exhausted. I looked at the scenery while my mind wrestled with what the hell had just happened. It was scrubland, desolate and a little foreboding; the kind of place where you'd half expect to come across a corpse in the marsh grass. I got to the river path and knew where I was. I turned back towards the train station, knowing I had no energy left for proper walking. It wasn't conscious, but in retrospect I was ticking off landmarks so I knew which track to take coming back. There was a makeshift swing on a broken ladder by the river wall, dirty and grey, and some graffiti saying, "Kez power art". To make sure, I dropped a pin in the maps app on my phone and starred it. I could get back here. If I wanted to. If...

My mind churned. I felt the cock cage and was aware of a little clanking sound as the padlock hit the metal bars when I walked. I was convinced everyone would be able to tell my cock was locked. It was only a mile or so back to the fort and another mile to the train station. It still took me nearly an hour. I was exhausted. I didn't have to wait long for a train and then I was speeding back to London, sound asleep.

Author's note: There will be a short break before the next chapter. Thanks for reading and for your comments and feedback, which are appreciated. M4U.