Shades of Pain
Changed from a street hustler by nano enhancement, Chanze becomes the first in a long line of super, man whores with Rent-A-Boy, a high-class escort agency set in the basement of a Manhattan hotel. With an insatiable sex drive, an erection that lasts all night, and a Doomsday chip in the base of his brain, life is peachy.
Chanze finds he enjoys being a sub and soon becomes addicted to pain but his heart grows colder with each client until a firefighter stumbles into his life. The exciting and sexy, Delano, devises a plan to free the sex slaves and destroy Rent-a-Boy.
Chanze swayed. No longer able to force a word from his abused mouth, he groaned. The whip cut deep into the flesh of his thighs inflaming damaged nerve endings and pushing his orgasm to overload. His ass quivered. He had begged for the thrust of his Master’s cock but the sting of leather had answered his pleas. The need for a man to pound his pleasure spot had become an obsession in the last hour. The four Doms moved around him each taking turns with the whip, each demanding his complete surrender. He had given them all he had. Now, he wanted them to fuck him. As a biologically engineered human, he had the ability to spill ten times in two hours and these men knew it. Most clients wanted to watch him come. Not these people. Precum pooled beneath his aching purple shaft in a shimmer of opalescence. He dropped his head to the cold stone floor and pushed his buttocks high in the air. His knees trembled. Please, fuck me now, please.
“Open your ass and show your Masters how tight you are, like a virgin ready to be sacrificed to four devils.” The masked Dom crushed Chanze’s fingertips under his shit kicker. “How long does it take your hole to become tight again after a good fucking, boy?”
“I don’t think he can answer you. Look at him, my cum is crystallizing on his lips. I’ll offer him some water. I want to hear him beg some more.” A grey haired man with a fat gut squatted beside Chanze. “Drink.” He pushed the opening of a plastic cup to Chanze’s mouth.
Chanze gulped down the water. The cool liquid spilled from his swollen lips and ran down his chin. The Doms liked their blowjobs rough and he’d taken each one of them with relish. He lifted his gaze. “It’s always tight, sir.”
“Good.” The first man trailed the tip of the whip over Chanze’s back. “Spread those cheeks.”
Please, please, fuck me now. His heart pounded and desire curled around his balls. He assumed the correct position and spread his buttocks. One masked Dom stood over his head with one steel-capped boot either side of his shoulders. Chanze dragged in a breath. The cool tip of the whip slid between the cleft of his bottom and flicked his balls before sliding up, and down in a tormenting glide over his hole.
“Look how his ass begs to be fucked.” A cushion dropped on the floor between his legs. “How about a tongue fuck, boy?”
Chanze trembled waiting for the joy to come. Instead, the smell of candle wax filled the air and heat scorched his flesh. He shuddered. Flames of desire scored a path up his cock and he rocketed into a mind-blowing orgasm. He moaned. Ribbons of cum shot in long spurts over his belly and dripped onto the floor in a pearly white pool. More wax dripped down his ass in a sizzle of burned skin. His cock jerked. The delicious pain had increased the erotic sensations shimmering up his shaft, tenfold. Boneless, he collapsed onto the floor. I’m in deep shit now. He had forgotten to ask permission to spill. Oh, fuck!
The Doms circled around him laughing. One bent his mouth close to his ear. The scent of whiskey filled Chanze’s nostrils. “Now you’re ready to be fucked. Have you ever had a DP, boy?—No? Well, isn’t this your lucky day?”