Pool

By Boyinacage

Part I – Mike

My name is Michael. Sorry, my name was Michael. I used to be a lad. 100% Alpha, I’d stick my cock in whether the guy was willing or not, if the hole was there, I’d take it. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed getting a good fuck too, but on my own terms and time. When I wasn’t out humiliating some other lad with my cock you’d find me at Romeo’s Bath house playing pool, or at the Eagle doing the same. If I couldn’t humiliate you with sex, I’d do it at pool.

If you lost to me at pool, you paid the price. There was always a bet. If you were lucky you’d get down on your knees and blow me off in front of the bar. One poor sod went for the best of five, ratcheting up the humiliation bank with each game on a wet Friday night many years ago. The poor preppy, he ended up naked, hand-cuffed and wearing a spider gag in the last stall at the back of Romeo’s lower basement. Good spot, very dark, and the staff never went there. Don’t know how, or when, he got out, although I did tip off Josh, the guy behind the bar who owned Romeo’s, after l had dropped in on the Sunday afternoon to piss down the loser’s throat. Deep down I’m the sharing, caring sort.

Of course I had mates. There were five off us: Johnny, Tash, Andy and Pat. All but Andy had offered up their arse at some time or another to my prowess at pool – Andy was a late comer, only part of the gang for the last couple of years. Andy was a good guy though, couldn’t play pool so knew not to play me – awesome arse though, built like a brick shithouse if you know what I mean. Actually, we were all in good nick – gym six days a week, weights, kick boxing and the like.

Andy was a full on Scottish punk, and an accountant of all things. We were all at various levels of the punk counter-culture that started coming back in after the Global Financial Crisis. Me, I worked in the local liquor outlet, not a well-paying job, but no matter, Andy was always willing to help out a mate. Over the course of the couple of years preceding the start of this story he’d leant me a couple of bucks. Help with the rent and covering my shouts at the bar, that sort of thing.

Here’s the rub though. My landlord had sold my apartment and the new owner decided to jack up the rent, not by a couple of bucks, but by almost 50%. Property was booming, fucked if I know who was buying it, not with the economy the way it is. Anyway, when we met after work at the Eagle for some pool I broached the subject of a loan with Andy. He looked at me for what seemed like hours, looked me up and down and called the others over. Whilst he was waiting for them I could see him undressing me with his mind. I’d never seen that done before, not like this, I FELT naked when he did it, to such an extent I took a step backwards. It was the last thing I’d expected.

When Johnny, Tash and Pat came over Andy turned to them and in that Scottish drawl of his laid it out to them. The fact that I’d asked for a large loan to keep paying the rent; the fact that I’d borrowed two grand from him over the previous two years (I had no idea it was that much); the fact that I’d never repaid him a dime (surely not). He then outlined a take it or leave it offer!

It was a high stakes bet, not a deal. He wanted witnesses and enforcers if I was to accept. A single game of pool. The loser would be a fully collared sex slave of the other to do with as he pleased. The sweetener was that if I won he would forgive me what I already owed him, and would pay my whole rent. For a year! If, on the other hand, I lost, I would give up my apartment and live in his (as a full time slave) and repay the money I owed him – plus any extra he spends on me whilst I’m there.

My brain went wild. I had a picture of a hunky Andy naked and kneeling on the ground next to me whilst I slaughtered the other punters at pool. He’d act as a warning to the folly of others in betting against me. I, of course, had to raise the stakes. I took his “deal” and raised him. The loser would have to wear a chain and collar of the winner’s choice, in public, at all times. He didn’t even pause for breath when he shot back another raising of the stakes. The loser was to be shaved from head to toe at the Eagle bar immediately after the game. Not to be outdone I raised the stakes again. The loser was to wear a metal chastity device and the key was to be kept around the neck of the Eagle above the shelves behind the bar – only the winner would have access the key.

Things were getting a bit out of control here; there was no way he would agree to this. I always won, he had proven over the last two years that he couldn’t play for fuck. In fact the only reason I hadn’t already fucked him was that he refused to play me. Waiting for the escalation offer I looked around and saw that everybody in the bar was watching and listening. It meant that he was well and truly snookered. If he pulled out now he would never be able to walk into the bar again. If he agreed, wow, my own sex slave and no money worries, I went hard just thinking about it.

As I watched he turned, and with that weird smile, he put out his hand and we shook. And then he trumped me. He offered to order the chastity device and pay my rent until we had our match – but with the caveat that if I lost it would all be added to my bill. I accepted, and we agreed to a date two weeks hence, at the Eagle for 10pm.

The night of the competition was a big one for me. We had after-work drinks, and for whatever reason I had been the recipient of a number of shots, so I was in a pretty good space when I arrived at the Eagle. There was a huge crowd, big enough that they had to put an extra guy on the door. Threading my way through the crowd I could see Andy by the table. He was looking hot. He was wearing the tightest bleachers I had ever seen – so tight that I could make out his PA clearly through the fabric. I had never seen Andy’s cock, but from where I was crossing the floor it looked huge. My own nine inches hardened as I pictured that cock under my control.

Looking around the bar I could see that the whole place was focused on our little competition. People were crowding around to see the action. The manager himself was talking to Tash. When I got to their group the manager turned to me and said that he was willing to toss the coin on who broke, and also indicated that the illicit betting in back bar had me as odds-on favorite (well yeah). He also took the opportunity to tell me that he had put some extra Muscle on tonight to help enforce the bet should the loser welsh on the agreement. Looking at Andy’s tightly encased arse, I had the suspicion it might not be needed, but it was good to know.

Andy took that moment to join us, again with his sly grin. He pulled out a package from his jacket and offered it to me. It was the metal chastity cage. I doubted that either of our cocks would fit in there comfortably, but I suppose that was the point. It had an integrated lock and the cage component had several catch points in the cock ring part to prevent twisting. The cage itself had three wide strips running down its 3-inch length, finishing with a metal cap with a small hole in the middle. The cap also had two smaller slits, one that extended into the side of the cage. Andy explained that this was so that a 0-guage PA could “lock” into the business end. No way was anybody getting that off in a hurry. On top of that, the three strips had pointed bolts facing inward. An attempt at a hard-on was going to have some painful side effects in addition to not being able to actually get hard!

It was whilst admiring the cage that I saw a stool under the chain spider web which ran down the center of the bar space. The manager had been busy. On the stool was a set of electric clippers, a can of shaving foam, a pack of disposable razors and a buckets of rubbers. I had bought the collar I wanted to put Andy in, but I was going to keep that safe until the right time. It was an electric dog collar. I had a remote for it. Once it was padlocked on, I could run an electric shock from up to 100 meters away. Once it was on, Andy was going to do some serious cock sucking, I reckon that after sucking me off I’d open him up to anybody. The sex slave bit was his idea and my electric collar was going to enforce it!

At last the moment came. The manager got up on a stool and explained the bet to the crowd and asked us both to confirm our agreement to the outcome. The crowd grew silent as manager flipped the call. Luck was with me as I won the break. I had once broke, and sunk, all my balls without the poor sod on the other end even getting a hit. Not so this time, I sunk the first ball off the break. Andy followed up with three in a row. I had never seen him sink one before, so this took me by surprise. I followed with two more, and Andy sunk two more. My stomach clenched, this had never happened to me before. I played for time; I knocked back an entire bottle of beer and tried to calm myself. It wasn’t because I couldn’t do it, it was what was at stake if I didn’t win – I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t win. I had watched Andy play lots of times before, and I couldn’t remember having seen him sink one.

As I turned back and started to concentrate I was distracted by Andy taking off his jacket. Whilst I waited and watched, he slowly took off his fred perry to reveal a tight rubber tank that highlighted both his pierced nipples. I was mesmerized. I fumbled the shot, horrified. The bar fell silent again as Andy approached the ball, I tried to do the same distraction by taking off my jacket. I hashed that up too as the collar fell out of my pocket. Andy picked it up, looked at it, looked at me, turned back to the ball and sunk his last color, quickly followed by the black. I was fucked.

Andy turned to me and commanded with the single word, “Strip”! I couldn’t, it isn’t my role to be the fuck boy. I took a step back shaking my head as I was grabbed from behind by the “Muscle.” I was shaking, I pleaded for best of three. Andy laughed. And without any concern granted me my wish on a condition, should I want to accede to it. I had to play the next game naked. Of course, if I didn’t want to, I could take the agreement as it was — I just stared at him.

Andy walked up and drew a blade from his back pocket. Whilst I silently struggled, he sliced my fred perry off me. Two other guys grabbed my legs and he sliced off my bleachers. I was naked save for my boots. He brought the knife up under my chin and asked me what it was going to be. I finally chose the only option with a possible escape, I’d play him naked. Andy spoke to the two guys holding my legs, as one they pulled them together and placed a pair of leg cuffs on me. There was six inches of chain – Andy grinned and said it was to stop a chicken shit like me getting away. I couldn’t get my head around that attitude – he was my mate and that voice had a lot of spitefulness in it. Boy, I didn’t realize he was so pissed off about the money.

As he’d won the previous game, he broke. Five balls he sunk. I tried to pull myself together I knew I could do this. I hobbled to the table, people laughed, I tried to focus but I couldn’t position my legs. I shot and I missed. Andy started playing with me, not sinking any balls but forcing me to hobble around the table. The crowd began throwing insults. A lot of them had lost to me in the past and should have been a little more respectful. Finally, after an hour, Andy pocketed the black, I hadn’t sunk one. Every move he made was to make the game last longer.

Andy looked at me and said he still wanted to play the third game. The “muscle” grabbed me again. and Andy put the shock collar on me (the one I had bought for him). Somebody must have gone through what remained of my bleachers pockets, because I was hit with a huge shock in the neck. I pissed myself there, in front of the whole crowd. It is needless to say that the next game lasted another hour, but this was mainly because of the humiliations that Andy could lay on me with the collar and the leg irons.

At the end of the game I was crying with embarrassment and pain. Four guys lifted me onto the pool table. Positioned my arse on the edge, two of the held me. Andy asked for a volunteer to shave my arsehole, and this was duly accomplished. Andy then announced he was going to fuck me there and then. Let me say that I was very tight before his nine inches penetrated me, but by the time the bar had their turn I could take the three pool balls shoved up there without a whimper. They spun me around so that my hair fell onto the ground as my head dangled over the edge. Once I was completely shorn, a spider gag was produced and whilst the rest of my body was shaved I took Andy’s cock into my mouth.

Before he pissed down my throat, he leant down and whispered in my ear. I froze at what he had to say. In fact I was so shit scared I pissed myself again. The last time my cock had freedom before that cage was painfully locked on.

 

Part II – Andy

 

His eyes looked at me pleading. I turned to Josh and asked him if he’d like to fuck the useless piece of shit that was staring up at us. Josh pushed him over with his boot and gave him a kick in the balls. The worm had no option but to roll over, after all, he was completely mummified from head to toe in cling wrap and duct tape. The only protrusions were nipple rings, a cock cage (sporting a half-pound titanium lock threaded through his PA piercing) and the 0-gauge PA ring that it replaced, the ring was now permanently hanging from his nostrils, low enough to keep the funnel into his mouth firmly in place). Josh pushed his boot into the worm’s balls and said to me that he’d wait until after tonight’s party. With that he pressed his boot harder into the worm’s balls as I made use of the funnel.

It was dusk. The worm was almost naked. His head was completely hairless. No eyebrows, no beard and certainly no hair on his head. His pale blue eyes focused on Josh’s boots with trepidation. Around his neck was a posture collar, the same one I’d bought to the pool game for him to wear. Under it was the much nastier electric one he had thought to use on me. Just thinking of what this bastard had thought to do to me made me press the button on the key-ring. He writhed. Of course he did. The metal plug locked in his arse and the prince’s wand down his shaft were both now on the same frequency.

Josh laughed. He was the one who had come up with idea of the metal catheter screwed into the cock cage as a wand, with connection to the tiny battery in the structure of the cage. I loved that catheter concept. In the first few days of the worm’s training we had left the plug off. We sent him to work in exceptionally tight stretch skinny jeans, not the sort that are baggy in the bum but ones that fitted right up his crack. In fact so tight you could see the lock on the butt plug if you looked closely enough. What was best was that he had no control over his piss. It just ran down the inside of his leg as it was released by his bladder. He got a warning from his boss and was sent home before morning tea. Naturally, we punished him for risking his repayment plan.

The second warning he got was because of me. I had put three pool balls up his arse before he left for work. He was getting good at keeping them under control I have to admit, but sooner or later the arse has to give – with Josh in the shop with my zapper it wasn’t being left to chance either. Because his jeans were so tight the first ball couldn’t squeeze its way into the leg and forced its way out a small hole in the tight seam of his arse.

After that the worm became so much more pliable. He was a warning away from losing his job, he had no home of his own and all his earnings were going toward paying off the money he owed me, minus his food and rent costs. Just the threat of doing another “prank” was enough for him to come to heel. That’s funny too. Come to heel. The only clothing the worm is allowed to wear at home, and often when we’re out, is his 20-hole cherry pickers, but Josh makes him put marbles in his socks, under his toes. It’s so uncomfortable to walk that way that he spends most of the time on his knees.

Anyway, right now, his hairless torso is separated from his hairless legs by a very small pair of sports shorts. He has difficulty keeping them up because the weight of the lock and the cock-cage keep weighing them down at the front. He can’t use his fingers to pull them up either, because we have them bandaged up with latex and duct tape into a fist. We’ve shined his body up with some baby oil so he gleams. Even though we have complete control of him electronically we have added a leash, because it looks soooo much better when we walk him into Romeo’s that way.

At first I was surprised at how few supporters he had after I won the pool game, but I then realized his friends were there out of fear for his bully boy tactics, his readiness to humiliate other people for no other reason than the fact that he enjoyed it. On the other hand I was generous. I let other people fuck him anywhere they liked. I loved the fact that people he had humiliated in the Eagle came back time and again to piss in his mouth, or kick him in the balls. I did worry that I got a real kick out of him being left in the last stall in the lowest basement at Romeos, completely blind in the triple layered latex hood, to who was fucking him at either end, or feeding him beer bottles up his arse or doing whatever else they felt was what he deserved.

After all, that was where it had started. You know it is funny; this piece of shite had changed my life forever. Ten years ago I was nervous guy adjusting to the fact that I was gay. I was doing accounting at the local university and after a few drinks at the bar up the road had plucked up my courage to go into Romeos. There, as nervous as hell, I hung back from the glory holes which had drawn me there, to play pool and build up my nerves. But I picked the wrong player and as I tried to scramble out of the bet we’d made he finally put me on the path of my future. I spent three nights chained up at the mercy of strangers and it was there that I first formulated revenge. Over the last 10 years, with the help of Josh, I learnt to be the best pool player in the country; built up my body from that of a wimp, to the muscle bound guy I am today; and kept my nerve in the three years he never once recognized me. I have such plans for him.

 

Metal would like to thank Boyinacage for this story!

 

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