Chapter Three

He drew the curtain back, not caring that I was naked and chained up in the sleeping quarters of his cab. Not that there was anyone to see — the place was still deserted, the landscape exactly how I’d left it.

He lit another cigarette and drew down the smoke, deep in thought. My mind was blank to everything except trying to process the swirling sensations and emotions I was feeling. We just sat there in silence, him the driver and in control, and me the chained up, naked faggot with a bellyful of piss, a bellyful and ass full of spunk being held in place by what I guessed was a butt plug; a man so low he had sucked his own waste off the cock that had just fucked him. I’d not even asked about a condom, just accepting the fact that he was going bareback. I was appalled but I was also proud. I wondered if I was a cum addict? Above all, I knew I was far from done. I then thought about my utterly flaccid cock. How could I be so horny, so sexed up, so on the edge, and yet so embarrassingly soft? It was clearly something Sir was thinking about too.

“You stay soft when I fuck you,” he observed. “Real men I have fucked before. They get hard. You? You are soft. I think you are a faggot. You said you were sub, and you are, but you are a true faggot too. You soft but your legs pull me in to fuck you harder and harder. But you no get hard. Soft. You rare thing.”

I couldn’t tell from the tone of his voice whether he approved of this or not. It was a plain statement, and there was no disagreeing. I had stayed flaccid and soft throughout the most intense sexual experience of my life. In a way, I was glad of his analysis: it was like the decision about my true nature was not mine but made for me. How ironic that that was the exact point he was making. Perhaps I was incapable of deciding even how I felt?

“Why you still try to stroke your cock?” he asked. He looked at me and I felt a sense of total liberation. There was nothing else to say but the absolute truth.

“Because it feels nice, Sir.”

“So it works?”

“Very much, yes.” I paused. “But there was a moment when you were fucking me and I went to stroke it but stopped. I moved it back so I could fondle your balls while I sucked you.” I looked at him, unblinking.

He nodded and grunted to himself, gazing into a middle distance. I shifted a little, the butt plug starting to feel uncomfortable. I started to wonder if we were done as the moment appeared to be slipping away.

“You live with anyone?”, he asked.

“No”, I replied, simply.

“You have girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

“No.”

He paused then leant over to what was obviously a secret stash as I suspected it was also where he kept the collar and handcuffs. He got something out and also reached for something above my head. He took my cock and lifted it up. I heard a buzzing and watched in muted fascination as he shaved my pubes off. He worked quickly but thoroughly and I was bald down there when he finished: I looked like a 12 year-old, my flaccid little cock flopping around. He then started to put my balls and cock through a metal ring before showing my cock some kind of small cage. I realised he was putting a chastity cage on me. My cock started to grow, fiercely.

The irony of this really tickled him. Sir laughed, a proper raucous laugh. “That good!” he exclaimed, almost crying. “You stay soft when I play with you, soft when you suck me, soft when I fuck you, and you get hard when I put a cage on you!” He chortled to himself and started twisting the butt plug that was still in me. It felt good and my cock deflated quickly. He seemed to know exactly how my body worked. He grasped my cock and secured it inside the cage, locking it with a padlock and smiling to himself. My little cock grew again, pushing against the metal bars of the cage, bulging out of the sides. It hurt but it was horny as hell.

So much for the moment slipping away.

“Anyone expecting you today?” he demanded.

“No. No-one.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I have to be at work at 9.30am.” I mentally checked. Yes, it was Sunday. Wow. I was really off on one.

“Okay. I don’t want no trouble. But we have maybe more fun today.” It wasn’t a question.

He grabbed his phone and called a friend, speaking in whatever language Sir spoke. I gathered the friend was called Pavel and I heard an Erich mentioned too, but other than that I’d no idea what they were talking about. But I heard a word: “faggot”. He said it a few times and, I realised, each time he used the words “estestveno roden” before them. I’d no idea what it meant. But I knew what “faggot” meant. It was me they were talking about. I was the faggot. I laughed to myself as I reviewed my situation: hard to argue otherwise! I was chained up naked in a trucker’s cab, full of spunk and piss, plugged and cock-caged with men discussing doing more to me. Yeah. Faggot was about right! And I felt my cock ache again as it strained at the bars at hearing myself talked about like that. Me. Faggot. I revelled in the name and felt oddly proud.”

“You like party?”, Sir asked?

“Er, sure”, I smiled, weakly, wondering what was happening, but feeling oddly calm. I ‘d certainly been reassured by the way he said he wanted no trouble.

“You stay there,” he instructed. Like I had a choice.

He swung into driver’s seat of the cab and started the big lorry up. Its rhythmic throb made the whole cab shake and it played havoc with my cock that was trying to get hard again — as it had been since the moment it had been locked away. The truck moved forward and gathered speed. It seemed we were heading towards the river. We hadn’t turned around so we must be.

After a short while the cab slowed right down, and then to what felt like little more than walking pace. The engine tone more than anything told me what was going on. The terrain became bumpy and the lorry lurched over clearly uneven ground, unmade ground. After a while it rolled to a halt and Sir killed the engine. Without a word, he got out of the cab, leaving the door open. I heard what sounded like a big door open, like a depot shed or a barn door. I then heard another big truck pull up, some voices, and a motorbike. Then nothing. It felt like an age, but I could just see the sun from the sleeping area. It looked like mid afternoon only. How had so much happened in such a short time? My mind raced. I felt a little afraid but my squirming moved the butt plug and set off some truly wonderful sensations; my mind was taking off again, and it was a one-track mind. All I could think of was being used again, and how good it felt. I was guessing – yes, okay, hoping – that Sir had invited some friends to sample me as well. The idea thrilled me.

And then the cab door opened, and Sir came back. Without a word he released my handcuffs and removed them. He attached two wrist cuffs and two ankle cuffs, each with sturdy rings in them. I let him. I didn’t resist in the slightest. He attached a lead to a ring on my dog collar and said, “with me.”

I clambered into the seat and Sir handed me a filthy pair of Crocs. I put them on and stepped down from the cab, gingerly as my limbs had been cramped and the space confined. I was naked, plugged and caged, with a collar on being pulled by a dog leash in broad daylight. I probably stank of cum and piss. Thank God no-one was around. What a truly pathetic specimen. What a horny feeling.

I was in some kind of rarely used yard with a large shed. Its big doors swayed slightly with an ominous creak that carried on the wind in search of an echo: finding none, the sound fled up the river and escaped which multiplied the eeriness. The doors were open and two figures were standing by their frames. I still did not know Sir’s name, but I guessed these two were Pavel and Erich. I had no idea what was going to happen next. I could either embrace it or resist it. Resist? — I just didn’t want to. I decided I would have to embrace it fully; throw myself into my faggotry for this party. I recognised that, for all my excitement, I was in a precarious position and reliant on the goodwill of these men. They looked like they had little of that. Best to fall into it and party hard – whatever they had in store…