Going Down

Mike put the two cans of beer down on a coffee table. He reached down and rubbed a finger back and forth over Nick's entrance, winning a shudder from the young man. He thumped the hole with his finger and Nick jerked and gasped. Nick grabbed Mike's wrist.

"You want me to put it in, don't you? You're holding me to you, not trying to push me away. You want me to finger you and then you want me to fuck you. You're not just a gay boy," he said, "you're a slut for it." Nick gasped and jerked again, as Mike penetrated with the finger between the two Nick was spreading himself with. Nick groaned and rocked on the finger as Mike went deep. Mike touched the prostate and Nick's cock stood up at attention. Mike ran two fingers of the other hand up the sides of the shaft and Nick shuddered and groaned.

"A real slut for it," Mike murmured. Pulling the finger out, he came onto the sofa with his knees set down on either side of Nick's waist.

"Go down on my cock," he growled, hovering over Nick's face and pressing the heels of his hands on either side of the rent-boy's head on the arm of the sofa. He presented his very fine erection, and, grasping the man's chaps-covered hips between his hands, Nick took the shaft in his mouth--and then in his throat, giving it deep suck.

"Nice. You do it good," Mike murmured.

He reached over to the coffee table, coming up with a condom packet and a small bottle of lube. In time, he pulled out of Nick's throat, and, still hovering over the rent-boy, rolled the rubber on his cock and lubed it up. "Put your ankles on my shoulders," he demanded.

"For you, special. Just a hundred bucks," Nick murmured.

"Not a chance, gay boy," Mike said, with a laugh. "Put your ankles on my shoulders, whore. You want me to do you. If I walked away from you now, you'd be frustrated and disappointed. You're a gay boy just like the rest of us."

Nick realized that the man was right. He liked that he was being told to do. He wanted to be fucked. Not by just anyone. By Mike.

"Put your ankles on my shoulders," Mike repeated. "You know how to do this."

With a sigh, Nick did so. The cock head was positioned at the entrance. Nick gasped and gave a little yelp when Mike thrust up inside him, but he went into heavy breathing, low pants, and whispering, "Yes, yes, be good to me" as Mike set up a steady rhythm of deep thrusts and Nick adjusted to rocking with the fuck. Mike stopped moving his hips, letting Nick do the fucking motion. Nick's hand moved between their bellies, and he stroked himself off, coming before Mike did.

They lay together, entwined, for a long time afterward, each fully aware of the other cooling down and going flaccid and then, as their hands roamed on the body of the other, each of them started to go hard again. Nick couldn't do this. He needed to retain some scrap of distance between what he claimed and... this.

"I think I need to go," he said.

"The party's over by now," Mike said, "I'll see that your costume gets back to Josh. You couldn't find your way there now anyway. And it's up from here. You are only going down. I'm not done with you yet. I'm taking you back in the bedroom and fucking your lights out."

"No rough stuff," Nick said. "I don't take it rough."

"But you take it. You're not straight. It's not gay for pay. You're gay."

"Yes," Nick said, after a pause. No use asserting that lie with this hunk.

"And you'll take it rough if I give it to you rough."

"Yes."

"In fact, you want it rough."

Nick didn't agree with that, but then, he didn't deny it, either.

"You'll open your legs for me again for free--no pay. We'll go back to my bedroom and we'll fuck again. I'll fuck you again. I'll fuck you rough if I want to. Because you want it. Not because you'll make money from it. You'll beg me to put it in you. You'll beg me to take you hard."

"Yes." He indeed was going down in the world. It had already been a journey of accepting reality in the descent through the labyrinth of hallways from the sixth to the fourth floors.

Mike laughed. He came off the sofa, reached down, took Nick up in his arms, and carried him into the bedroom.

The full cans of beer remained on top of the coffee table--untouched and getting warmer.

Mike fucked him vigorously, almost brutally in a closely plastered missionary again, Nick clutching the man on top of him, between his legs, nearly sobbing at the working of the hard, thick cock deep inside him, grasping Mike's buttocks close into him, rubbing the backs of his knees on the rough leather of the chaps covering Mike's hips as he bucked and bucked against the deep thrusts.

"You are gay," Mike growled in his ear. "Say it."

"Yes. Oh god. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

"Say it. Say 'I am gay.'"

"I am gay."

"I charge other men hundreds of dollars, but I go down on Mike and I give him my ass for free. Say it or I pull out."

"I go down on Mike and give it to him for free."

Mike laughed. He pulled Nick up from the bed and reversed him, Nick bending over the bed, his arms spread and his fists buried in the mattress. Mike mounted and penetrated from behind with a strong upward thrust that caused Nick to cry out. He palmed Nick's belly with one hand, grasped his throat and arched the rent-boy's head back into his chest with the other.

And he fucked Nick to his ejaculation in long, deep, brutal strokes.

* * * *

At the door to his apartment, Mike embraced Nick, who was now dressed in his own clothes except that he'd kept the gold Egyptian sandals with the gold strings winding up to under his knees. His own loafers had been lost somewhere and he liked the sandals and the lacings.

"Remember now, you are queer just like the rest of us. You aren't in it just for the money. You like being fucked, probably rougher than I've done it. It's fine that you can make money out of it, but you aren't any better than any other guy who craves cock."

"Yeah, sure," Nick said. "Which way out of this dump?"

"Are you listening, Nick? Do you understand? You are not above anyone here."

"Yeah, I heard. Which way? Where are the stairs? We're on the fourth floor, right?"

"Yes, we're on the fourth floor. The stairs further down are that way. Make two rights and you'll see the staircase. Good luck, Nick," he said, giving the young rent-boy a sad look and closing the door behind him as Nick moved off to the left and took the first right.

He found the staircase, but it only went down one level. He needed to go down four to get out of the building. He started down the corridor, looking for another staircase--hopefully the circular one in the building's foyer that he'd used to get from the first to the sixth floor. Then he'd only have to try to remember how to get to the building's alley entrance.

A door opened down the corridor and a man appeared. It was Ivan, the thuggish-looking bruiser who had given Nick the intense stare at the party. He was still in much of his Mussolini stormtrooper costume, with the jodhpur trousers, but he'd lost the brown shirt. He was bare-chested except for a black leather harness. His musculature was body-builder magnificent. He had a riding crop in his hand, which he snapped against the high tops of his black combat boots as Nick walked down the corridor toward him, the only direction in which Nick could go, and gave the man a little smile as he went to pass him.

Ivan reached out, grabbed Nick by the arm, and pulled him into the apartment, closing the door behind him and throwing three bolts. The apartment was dark and Spartan in décor. Otherwise, it was the same layout as Josh's and Mikes's apartments had been.

"So, you couldn't stay away from me. You come to me to have Ivan work you over--to fuck the shit out of you. To dominate and punish you."

Not really. At least not at a conscious level. Nick had just been trying to get out of the building. "I'm just trying to find out how to get out of the building," he said. "I'm not looking for anything rough. I don't do rough." Well, unless that last fuck of Mike's could be called rough.

"I think you do rough. I think you want to be punished. I think you want to go down on me."

Nick reached for the door to leave, but Ivan spun him around, slapped him twice across the face, and pushed Nick to his knees. He had his shaft out quickly and slapped Nick again when Nick tried to refuse the cock in his throat. Ivan slapped him a couple of times on the cheeks with the heavy shaft. With a whimper, Nick settled down and gave the man's cock head.

Before Ivan came, but when he was in full erection, he pushed Nick off the cock, slapped him again, and, while positioning the young man on the floor right there by the door on his all fours, he stripped Nick of his clothes, all except the golden sandals. Mounting Nick there on the floor, he moved into position, penetrated, and fucked him in a hard, vigorous doggy position, riding him like Nick was a mare and he a breeding stud stallion, cruelly grabbing Nick by the hair and pulling the rent-boy's head back into his massive chest with one hand. The other hand was busy using the riding crop on Nick's rump and flanks.

Nick gasped and panted and nearly sobbed, but he also went hard, moving a hand to stroke himself. When he came, splattering cum on the apartment floor, Ivan laughed.

"I knew you wanted it rough. I knew you wanted to be punished."

Nick hadn't known that. It was a revelation to him now that he, indeed, zoomed up the scale of arousal at the rough treatment and was walking on the clouds of sexual arousal.

Ivan dismounted and let Nick stand, but only to clip him in the jaw with one fist and bury the other one into the rent-boy's lower belly, causing him to retch and double over. Ivan pulled him back off the floor by his hair, slung him over his shoulder, and took him into the bedroom.

The bed was a doubled one, with restraints rising from each corner. That's not where Ivan took Nick, though. There was a wooden Saint Andrew's cross X-frame against one wall. Nick writhed and bit into a rubber ball gag there as he hung on the frame and Ivan worked him over with a hand whip.

Again a satisfied laugh and an "I knew it" when Nick ejaculated during this treatment as well.

There was no relief on the bed, where Nick was bound, belly down, at all four corners and nearly bit through the ball gag and flopped around as best he could as, before mounting and fucking him from above, Ivan fisted him with a lube-covered glove.

None of this was anything Nick had done before. But he endured it, and even as it was happening, he realized it had him soaring above the clouds in arousal--and that he was worth much more as a rent-boy now, realizing that he could endure and perform for a man this cruel. His rates would go way up. He got hard as a rock from the treatment, so he had to admit that it sexually aroused him.

Ivan relieved Nick of the ball gag while he was still saddled on his ass, fucking him. "What do you think of what you want from men now, gay boy?" he demanded.

"Oh, shit. FUCK! Take me. Use me. Abuse me! I never knew it could be like this!" Nick cried out, having discovering what total sexual possession and use could be.

Ivan laughed and fucked on. "I should give you to Simon," he whispered in Nick's ear.

When the door to the apartment opened, Nick was expelled, naked, hit the opposite wall of the corridor, and sank in a heap on the floor. Ivan tossed his clothes on top of him.

"Out? How do I get out of this fucking hell?" Nick whimpered. He pulled his briefs and jeans on, but his back and chest had been whipped almost raw and the shirt would have been too painful to wear. He stuck it into his belt.

"Down is that way," Ivan said, pointing off in the direction Nick had been walking when Ivan accosted him. "You enjoyed that. I knew you would," he declared before he back into his apartment, and slammed the door shut.

As humiliated and in pain as he was, Nick could not disagree with that assessment. He trembled with arousal at what Ivan had done to him. It scared the hell out of him that he couldn't, though.

* * * *

Struggling along, Nick eventually found another staircase. But it only went down one level, to the second floor. He sat down on the bottom step, covered his face with his hands, and worked at calming down so that he wouldn't be frenzied in trying to find the next staircase.

"Going down?" a voice said, a low, silky-smooth baritone. Nick looked up. The guy was gorgeous, perfectly proportioned, dark and sultry. A Mediterranean Apollo, with silky dark hair, tight beard and mustache, and eyes. He had a great smile. He was dressed in black trousers and a silky black shirt, open nearly down to the navel, showing a curly-black hair pattern of swirling chest hair and a silver medallion hanging from a silver chain.

"Trying to," Nick said. "Trying to get out of this fucking building."

"You are wounded. Someone has been whipping you."

"It was a misunderstanding," Nick said. He shuddered as the man touch a rivulet of blood coming from one of the welts on Nick's back. What he didn't see was that the man took the drops of blood to his mouth and savored them.

"If you're going down, I can help you," the man said.

Looking at him again, Nick could see that that man wasn't young, but he wasn't old, either. There was some gray shot through his hair, but he was still gorgeous. The advances of age had been very kind to him.

"Here, just over here," the man said. "These staircases are tricky, but they all go down. You could have taken any of them down."

He gestured for Nick to stand and come around to the back of the staircase, where a panel opened to reveal that the stairs, indeed, did continue to descend.

"Come I will show you the way down."

Nick followed the man--down one floor and then another and then another. About the time he thought they should be at the first floor, Nick realized that he'd lost count and that they must actually be lower than that. Another floor and then another and they were facing a steel door, which was open. The walls of the room beyond were cinderblock.

"Here, this way," the man said, motioning Nick through a solid-steel door. Nick entered the room. He saw that there was another room beyond that. And then his blood froze when he saw the equipment in the other room--sexual torture equipment.

"I didn't introduce myself," the man said behind Nick as Nick heard the second metal door being closed and a key turned. "I'm Simon. We are going to have so much fun, you and I."

Nick turned to see that Simon's smile had changed. It was more of a sneer. The black eyes were flashing. Prominent were the fangs.