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How the Bouncer Entertains Himself

Part 7

For Limemas

By Draconicon

The sliding door slammed shut, and Caleb was left in hell.

"MMMPH! MMMPH!"

Even screaming was harder than it used to be with the big plastic cock rammed down his muzzle. The Doberman threw himself against the ropes wrapped around him, trying in vain to throw himself to the floor or away from the steel frame, but -

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"NNNGH!"

The constant whirring vibration from the machine beneath the seat was torturing him. It was just barely past his asshole, the pointed, ridged tip of the penetrating metal hitting him with one shiver-inducing buzz after another. Each one came so close to hitting something sensitive inside of him without quite touching it, and he didn't know if he wanted it to get deeper or if he desperately wanted it out of him. The constant blast of stimulation made it so hard to think, and so did -

Squirt.

Squelch.

"NNGH! NNNNGH!"

He thumped his head back against nothing, whimpering and whining as his cock throbbed in the condom around it. The constant feeling of the slime moving and grinding into his cock was bad enough, but there was something else, almost like a tingling itch that seemed to creep along his cock. Every time it twitched, every time that the constant ass-buzzing hit him anew, he felt it stroking along his cock, and worse...

And worse, seeping into it, almost like lotion did. It was slicker, almost more sinister than that, but it was the only comparison that he could think of. The ooze was sliding into his cock, making it more...more itchy, more sensitive, making the rubber around it feel almost as good as his own hand. Whimpers and moans kept sliding past his lips, the gag barely stifling them to his own ears as the machine -

WHIRRRRRRRRRRR!

"MMPH!"

The Doberman couldn't even more. The tight ropes around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides and his back to the chair, meant that he couldn't even bend over. All he could do was stare straight ahead as the machine spiked and dropped, spiked and dropped with its random vibrations. His hole felt tingly, open and wet from whatever was going on back there, but it just never stopped. It would push him right to the edge of numbness, then slow down to a soft, almost ticklish tingle, and then ramp up again just when he was starting to get his breath back.

He wished it would go numb. At least then it would stop for a little while.

His balls were churning away, his cock was throbbing worse than it had for any of the strippers back at the club, and it took every bit of willpower to not think about how it would feel to cum right then and there. Caleb forced himself to think of the asshole that had put him into this situation, and forced himself to growl past the gag. It was a weak, whimpering sound, and if Karlos had been there to hear it, he would have been humiliated. As it stood, it was at least a hint of defiance, even if it was something that even he couldn't entirely take seriously.

Fucking...fucking...asshole...faggot...faggot little shit...perverted...fucker...

He could barely think through the forced pleasure running through his body, his toes curling against the concrete under him and his eyes rolling back in their sockets. The constant squelch-suck of the condom around his cock made him feel like he was getting sucked off and getting a handjob at the same time, and that machine - it was so fucking close to his prostate, grinding, buzzing, whirring away. He was so close to getting off, so fucking -

"MMMPH!"

Another sudden stop. The Doberman whimpered, his balls aching as he felt the denial settle in and his cock throb that much harder, trying and failing to get off with the feeling of his pre-cum and the Komodo Dragon's cum sliding around it. The liquid 'massage' of all that slime was so close, and the condom itself so tight and nasty, and...and the musk...the scent...the slime along his face that reminded him what had been done to him so far...oh fuck, fuck...

Caleb whimpered, wanting to cum, but every time he got close, he saw that cocky expression in his mind's eye. The other man wanted him to break, was trying to break him with nothing but pleasure.

Fucking faggot...asshole...can't...can't break...not like this...not like this...

No way did Lawrence really give the okay for this. This was just the prick pulling something stupid, something horrible for the sake of being an ass. Probably just wanted to fuck his hole, like the fucking prick wanted to fuck every man that passed through the club. Well, he wouldn't just breaking. He wouldn't. He wouldn't. He wouldn't.

Even as the machine whirred away, he tried to hold onto that anger, that fury, but everything felt so good. His cock had never felt so sensitive as this. He swore that it could have cum if he just stood under a shower at this point, the running water dripping along his cock and giving it a watery blowjob.

"Mmmph...nngh..."

The constant hum of the machine and his own moans were his only company. How long had he been in here already? A few minutes? A half-hour? An hour? All he knew was that his cock ached from how hard it was, and the tip felt swollen from how close he kept getting edged, and -

The machine kicked into high gear again. Caleb stiffened, his back arching against the chair. It forced the machine's tip just a little further in, tantalizingly close to his prostate, his body instinctively trying to drive that bit of pleasure further into him. Just a little more, just a little -

No, no, no!

He pulled back just as the machine slowed down again, gasping and huffing, whimpering and shaking. If his legs hadn't been tied apart, he would have pulled them together from the sudden blue balls that followed, grunting and huffing as his cock begged for that last bit of stimulation. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he forced himself to stare straight ahead, looking at the door rather than at the throbbing rod between his legs.

Not...not like this...not like this...

And yet, even as he tried to keep that fury there, even as he tried to keep telling himself that he would not break, his cock continued to throb. There was no hesitation in its need for pleasure, no shame in how much it craved from him. It wanted to get off, and if it couldn't get stroked, it would beg for whatever it could get. It would take the pleasure of the machine, it would beg for that instead, and for something bigger, besides. He could already feel the ache, the slight beginnings of a fantasy that would take something deeper up his ass, and he had to fight against that.

No, no, no. He was not some fucking fag. He was a man. He had his bitches at the club, and he'd back to work at Riding the Pole soon enough. Then the asshole that did this to him would be canned, tossed to the street, and the cops called.

He just had to hold out. He just had to hold out for a little while longer. Surely, someone would notice that he had been taken away. Someone would come looking for him...

#

Three hours later...

The Doberman was a sweaty, exhausted mess. His cock ached inside the condom, and a regular flow of pre-cum dribbled past the bottom over his balls. The same itch that covered the rest of his cock had spread to his sac, not just on the outside, but on the inside. It was as if something was tickling, tingling, teasing his balls from the inside-out, and every time that he felt it, all he wanted to do was reach down and...and...

He didn't even know. All he knew was that he needed to touch his cock. What he'd do when he did, he wasn't sure, but if he could just touch it...just squeeze and rub and...and empty the fucking thing...

Nnngh...Karlos...you...you bastard...

His mouth was so full of that plastic cock, feeling the tip so close to the back of his throat. If it had been any bigger, he was all but sure that he would have been gagging on it, and the thought of doing something like that...

No, no, he was going to make it through this. He would get out of this without having any gay stuff really happening to him. Caleb had faith in himself. He was better than that stupid reptile. He would not be turned.

The machine whirred, and he slipped back into the whimpering, needy mess that he was becoming.

#

Six hours later...

The Doberman was barely keeping himself from screaming. The canine's cock was so hard that it left him in agony to think of it going untouched for a second more, but the ropes were no less secure than they had been when the whole thing started. The machine was off more often than it was on, now, and he kept fighting himself to not shove his hips back and take more of that stupid thing into his ass. He wasn't even sure that he could, but his hips had minds of their own sometimes, and he kept feeling them trying, trying, trying to take more of that metal vibe further between his cheeks, stuffing him further than he was willing to allow.

His balls had never felt this heavy before. They felt as if they were being dragged down the hole in the chair with weights wrapped around them, filled to the brim with seed that he would have happily spilled in any other circumstance. He whimpered, his head hanging down slightly, his mouth trying to drool. He had to swallow constantly around the wetness in his mouth, the gag making it impossible for it to just fall out the way that it would have done for any free dog. It was one more humiliation, making him suck that cock just to keep from drowning.

The stink of his own sweat and musk had become impossible to ignore. It was all around him, omnipresent, and it was so thick. His head swam from the sheer power of it, and his cock only throbbed all the harder .

So...fucking...sensitive. He'd never had a hard-on like this before. He didn't know what Karlos had done to him, but all he wanted to do was rut. Pussy, mouth, ass -

Fuck, anal would feel so good right now...

The fat asses of the girls in the club were on his mind. Just the thought of some of them spreading their cheeks and showing off their puckers was enough to keep his cock throbbing, begging for attention, and the idea of plunging his dick down those tight holes when he was this sensitive was so good that it made him stop thinking of pussy almost immediately. He felt another rolling spurt of pre-cum through his cock - he felt every shot of that, now, and he didn't know why - and it rolled along the inside of the condom like a finger working its way down along the shaft, dragging towards his balls before oozing out.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

God, he wanted to get off. He wanted to fuck, wanted to rut, wanted to do anything to get a fucking orgasm, but it was right on the cusp of his capabilities. He just -

WHIRRRRRR!

#

Ten hours later...

His head was swimming. No sleep, not even a wink, and the pre-cum oozing from inside the condom had continued throughout the night, leaving him with a puddle of the mess between his legs, covering the floor, staining his toes and the undersides of his feet. He couldn't think, could barely see, and it was only the rattle-clank of the sliding door to the storage unit that finally broke the semi-trance that the pleasure had lured him into over the many hours of the night.

Huffing and panting as he was, Caleb could barely see through bleary eyes as someone walked into the unit. He groaned as he blinked, trying to see, but the shape already left no doubt as to who it was. Too short to be anyone but -

"Thought you could use some breakfast."

Karlos. The damn Komodo Dragon was back. Judging from the light outside, it had to be morning, and -

And that was as far as his thoughts got him as the throbbing, pulsing, swelling feeling between his legs made it almost impossible for him to think about anything else. He grunted, his hips twitching even as he tried and failed to close his legs again. A bag of fast food hit the floor as the reptile turned to the control switch for the door behind him.

"We're going to have a little talk, see how you're doing, and then I'll decide whether you're ready for some more of the treatment."

"Mmmph..."

"Not going to shout anymore?"

No promises on that front; he was too exhausted to think clearly, and he wasn't sure what he'd do, but he didn't have the energy to shout against the gag any longer. He barely had the energy to moan from the resurgence of a vibe between his cheeks, the metal buzzing against a hole that felt like it was rubbed nearly raw.

"Good boy."

Karlos's two words would have made his tail wag if there'd been any energy for it, and he was thankful in that moment to be as exhausted as he was. At least he was spared from that humiliation.

As he sat there, huffing into the gag, the Komodo Dragon reached around. The machine finally went completely silent rather than just dulled, and he was able to just sit and breathe. Sit and breathe and throb as his cock begged for that last bit of attention it needed, as the slime oozed between his toes as he wiggled them and tried to keep his blood flowing properly, but at least it was no longer being driven by anal pleasure.

"Mmmph..."

"Alright. Let's take that gag out and see how you're doing, hmm?"

The straps around his muzzle and the back of his head came loose one by one, and he coughed as the tip of the dildo finally came free from the back of his mouth. It hadn't quite been in his throat, but it had come close, particularly when he'd been forced to keep swallowing to avoid drowning in his own drool. He could feel the fur along his face, chest, and back matted with sweat, rolled flat from all that he'd gone through, and he narrowed his eyes at the other male.

"Why?" he muttered.

"That depends. Are you going to hear what I have to say this time, or are you going to start shouting 'faggot' until I gag you again?"

"..."

"Alright. I'll give you a chance."

The bag of food smelled better than it should, Caleb through as his captor leaned against the closed door. The dog kept feeling the temptation to look at it, feeling the grumbles through his stomach that came from staying up all night. He remembered the all-nighters in college when he'd had to go through that for a test; it meant that the stomach never rested, and the urge to eat was always there.

Fatty, greasy fast-food. That was all that was in the bag, and it was something that he'd never touch during waking hours, but fuck he was hungry after the long night of torment. His stomach growled.

"Hey. Hey. Eyes on me, boy."

Caleb brought his eyes back to the Komodo Dragon. Karlos smiled.

"Good boy."

"Nnnngh..."

"Now, you asked why I'm doing this? Because you're effectively useless at the job that Lawrence hired you for."

"Mmmph...then why..."

"Why am I going all out like this? Because Lawrence wants you to keep doing the job of an accountant, at the very least. Seems like you're good at that, even if you're shit at everything else that a manager is supposed to do. Can't keep up a good rapport with the workers, can't stand up for them when the assholes come to town, and you can't even get the respect of your bouncers. Literally every other part of the job that isn't making a profit for the club, you fucking suck at.

"Thing is, Lawrence ain't the sort to just let you go. If it wasn't for the fact that you were a fucking ass to the rest of the staff, the bunny probably would have just bowed his head and just accepted the fact that you were a hopeless case and lived with his mistake hiring you. But when he found out that you were that much of a shit-head, he decided to let me take steps before you bring the club down around his ears. Riding the Pole is his pride and joy. He ain't letting you, or anyone else, take that thing away from him."

"So...so you're..." He swallowed. God, his throat was dry. "You're going to...going to...Mmmph..."

"Heh. Feeling it already?"

"What the fuck...what the fuck did you do to my dick?!"

He wanted to ask questions, but now that the machine was off, now that there was nothing in his mouth to distract him, that constant throb and itch and tingle that had consumed his dick all night long was impossible to ignore. His thighs kept tensing, trying to pull against the ropes and close his legs, and his hips were trying to grind forward to press his hard-on against his thighs, against the chair, even against the inside of the condom for some sort of stimulation, something to get what he needed to take him over the edge. It was like everything was concentrating down to his dick, all other stimulation - pain, exhaustion, humiliation, everything - just fading into the background in comparison to that feeling, that utter need between his legs.

"That's the venom," Karlos said. "And if I had put any more in the condom, you'd be a braindead stud at the moment, only able to think of cumming. For that matter, you'd probably have been cumming your brains out all night long, and begging me for a second dose right now. And if I hadn't been held back by Lawrence? I probably would have done that for all the shit that you've pulled over the last few weeks. And you would have fucking deserved it."

"Why...what...what is it doing?"

"Re-writing your nervous system."

"H-how?"

"Chemical shit; I don't know how it works. I just know it does." The Komodo Dragon chuckled. "My venom hits people hard. It opens them up, hyper-sensitizes them, and then makes it so that the sensitivity never actually reaches that peak again without me. You'll need my venom to get off if you get enough of it. Just like that vulture priest needs a good rimming from me before I fuck him to cum. Just like my lion needs a nice, wet handjob before we fuck to get off with me. They're all addicted, to some level or another."

"...Monster..."

"Maybe." Karlos shrugged. "Less of one than I used to be, but I can't deny that there's something there. But that doesn't matter. Not when it comes to you."

He shivered, gritting his teeth as his cock bounced again, throbbing, pulsing, spitting into the latex cover that sheathed it. Oh, he was so sensitive. So wet. So slimy down there, and the musk from between his legs was so heavy, too. He wanted to, needed to cum.

"Now, let me ask you a couple of questions. If you give me the right answers, I'll let you cum before we get started on today's thing."

"Mmmph..."

"But if you don't talk, or if you just get mad, I'm going to leave you like this and let you go to stage two without any relief."

"Nnngh...you...you..."

Caleb restrained himself, but only barely. The idea of being left in denial was not worth the satisfaction of lashing out, particularly when he could barely think enough to talk in the first place. He refused to admit that he might cum from the touch of another man, but at the same time, he knew that if he didn't cum soon, he'd go crazy. He was barely holding onto his anger through the lust as it was; if he had to go through that again, another day, another night of it, without some ease to the need, he would go completely insane.

So, he nodded. It didn't make him feel any better to see Karlos smile.

"That's what I wanted to see. Now. Do you understand what you did wrong, hmm? Do you understand why we had to take steps?"

"...You don't think...you don't think I was doing a good job..."

"Hmmph. You can't admit that you were fucking up?"

"I got a fucking degree. I went to a university. I'm the one finally getting the club to turn more than a passing profit. If I'm doing something wrong, then it's because - Nnngh - because everyone else has been getting the big picture wrong. I'm the one getting it right, even if the rest of it -"

"Careful, pup. You're close."

"..."

"Good boy."

Stop fucking saying that, Caleb said, feeling his tail trying to wag again and having to force the muscles in the base of his spine to go still. Oh, fuck he was hard, and it was getting so hard to think through that.

"I'm telling you everything that you've done wrong, and you can't admit it, can you? You still think that we're the ones that are wrong, and you're the one that has it right. You're working in a strip club, Caleb. You think that being gay or being a woman is a fucking problem there? You're the one that has the problem with everyone else. You're the one that has to get over yourself if you want to keep your job."

"Mmmph...I'm...doing what..."

"Alright. What are you going to do better, then? What are you going to do when you go back? What the fuck makes you a good manager besides the fact that you bring in money?"

"I...I..."

He thought that he'd have a response there. Sure, the need between his legs, the constant horny that had been built up overnight was making it harder for him to think, but he had a much better education than anyone else. Certainly better than Karlos. He should have an answer, something that he could use, something...something that would put him over the pervert, but as hard as he thought, as much as he pushed himself and wracked his brain, nothing came to mind.

He just stared, his mouth hanging open and his tongue lolling out. He barely realized that it had gone that far before he blushed worse, trying to pull his tongue back in.

"You can't think of anything, can you?" Karlos asked. "Can't think of a single time that you backed up one of the employees against a customer, or one time that you handled a dispute that didn't involve you taking advantage of them. You're nothing but a numbers boy. That's all you are."

"..."

"Say it."

"I..."

"Say it, and you can cum."

"I'm nothing..." No, wait. "Nothing but a..." Don't. "A numbers boy."

Even as Karlos screamed in his own head for saying something like that, for giving the Komodo Dragon anything that he wanted, he could feel a faint sense of relief. Something in him enjoyed giving in. Something felt relieved at following others, and that sensation utterly terrified him. He panted hard as the bouncer nodded at him, taking a step forward.

"Well, that's less of an instant response than I'd like, but I did say I'd give you a hand."

And that was all that he got. A hand on his cock, a hand around the slimy condom that had been wrapped around his shaft all night. He almost came at the first touch, a humiliation in and of itself. His cheeks burned as the Komodo Dragon's fingers wrapped tighter, not even stroking him, just squeezing and releasing by turns. His breath came in sudden gasps, harsh hisses, and kept getting more and more intense as the pleasure grew. He tried and failed to buck his hips, the ropes grinding into his chest and legs, and his balls churned and pulsed right up until -

"Ah - Nnngh!"

The sudden pleasure of a long-awaited orgasm was almost too much for him to bear. Less than thirty seconds into the pulsing, squeezing grip of his captor, Caleb was trying and failing to roll into a ball. His cock throbbed and soaked the inside of the condom with a powerful squirt, and kept going. Squeeze-pulse, squeeze-pulse; each little squeeze drew another shot out of him, and yet, with each pulse, that satisfaction felt so far away. Even as his balls grew lighter, his need grew greater, and he didn't understand.

He screamed as he was milked by hand, each pulse making the condom wetter and wetter until it was too loose to fit around his cock. It slid off, and his last ropes of seed shot straight out, hitting the ground in front of him as he gasped for air.

"Ah...ah...ah..."

"Heh, looks like it's going well for you."

"Mmmph..."

"Look down, pup."

He looked before he could stop himself, and his eyes went wide. His cock had changed. The throbbing, twitching shaft was all red, angry and sensitive, and it looked as if it had been rubbed almost raw. The usual soft, fleshy tones that he was used to seeing had swollen with the long night in the condom, and just the soft swish of air through the small storage unit was enough to send a whimper to his lips and a shiver down his spine. He struggled to not gasp, to not shake, and yet, his cock kept dancing between his legs, spitting little jets of clearer pre-cum even as his balls felt as if they had all but shriveled up between his legs.

"Mmmph...what...what did you..."

"I just gave you a little taste. This is what happens to bad dogs. If you want to get what you need, you need to be a good dog."

"You...ah...ah..."

Why was he still so horny? He'd just cum harder than any week of jerking off he'd had when he was a teenager. His cock should be begging for mercy, not for more attention, and yet, it still throbbed. It was begging, pleading, pulsing, but now...now it was almost dry rather than soaked. Everything that he'd oozed during the night, everything that he'd been soaked with, was gone.

Absorbed...absorbed in with the venom? Was he...was that happening...the whole time?

He had a horrible feeling that it had been, which meant that his cock had been corrupted, warped, changed by whatever the venom did. Caleb whipped his head back up to the Komodo Dragon at his side, shaking his head. Before he could say anything, however, the Komodo Dragon grabbed the bag of food, pulling out a breakfast sandwich. Egg, bacon, biscuit; not much, but something.

"Eat."

He had little choice in the matter. The sandwich rested against his lips, and he forced himself to take a bite. The first swallow hit his stomach, and he groaned with the relief that it brought with it. Another bite, and another, each one satiating his hunger, slowly soothing the ache that had come through the night away. He wanted to cry; he wasn't sure that he succeeded in keeping the tears back.

Anger, humiliation, and fear alike all warred with one another as he tried to figure out what he could say. What the hell could he say with all that had happened to him? It was like prison, or worse, and anything he said would just reward the reptile that was lording this over him. And yet, if he didn't...what would happen to him? What if he messed up? What if he fucked himself over? He didn't know, and he was terrified to find out. He kept eating, hoping to come up with something, but soon enough, the sandwich was gone.

"Well?" Karlos asked, looming over him.

"I'll...I'll..."

"You can't say that you'll be good and mean it. Not yet," Karlos said. "Which means that you need at least another day. Maybe a couple of them, if this is how you think you can behave."

"No, no, please, I...I...You fucking - YOU CAN'T DO THIS! NOT AGAIN!"

"Good dogs know how to behave. Bad dogs shout and scream."

"YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! LET ME GO!"

He knew it was a mistake as soon as the words slid out of his mouth. There was no way that he could say that and pretend that he was learning his lesson. It was too late to apologize; the words had barely gotten past his lips before the cock gag was forced past his lips again, going all the way back to the rear of his mouth again. The ropes got a little tug, just checking their knots rather than making them tighter, but he still whimpered as he realized just how helpless he was.

Caleb waited for a new condom, but there was none of that this time. Instead, Karlos moved out of sight, and he seemed to spit at something. The hocking sound was not entirely pleasant, but he didn't understand. If he wasn't going to be putting another condom around the Doberman's dick, then -

Wait. Wait, no! NO!

The machine kicked in again, and the same tingling-itch-need feeling that had consumed his cock hit his asshole instead. He screamed around the gag as the machine forced its way into a pucker that had already been stretched and vibrated to looseness through the night, forcing that tingling need to be touched further inside of him. Just like before, it stopped just before his prostate, and it kept him from getting that satisfaction that being nudged right there would give him.

"NNNGH!"

"We'll see how long you last this time," the bouncer said. "I'll be back later today, once you've had some time to think about it."

"MMMPH! MMMMMMMMPH!"

The screaming meant nothing to the other man. Karlos locked him down, patted his shoulder, and opened the door. In minutes, it was shut again, and the lights were off, leaving him in the dark with the whirring machine, his asshole puckering like some bitch in heat for her chosen suitor.

His cock throbbed in time with the clenches, his lower body getting trained, teased, pushed to take it and enjoy it. Each pulse, each rippling set of vibrations, left his head spinning and drool building up in his mouth. His fear and hate for the other man warred with the growing arousal again, and he whimpered as he realized something else.

If I push too hard...if I nudge him...too much...he could break me...break me for real...

And nothing said that Karlos would actually get in trouble if he failed to keep the Doberman useful. This could all be an experiment, one that Karlos was willing enough to conduct, but would shed no tears on if it failed. If Caleb kept resisting, if he kept pushing back and staying too angry...

But if he gave in...if he became a cock toy...

The buzzing intensified, and he screamed against the gag. His cock jumped, and this time, it throbbed for a whole different reason. A dry orgasm wracked him, his toes curling and his eyes rolling back as he started sweating anew. His asshole clenched down hard on the vibrating piece of metal, only to spasm free at the hyper-sensitivity back there, only to squeeze again as he couldn't stop himself.

Last night had been edging torture. Today, it seemed, would be orgasm torture.

The End

Summary: Caleb goes through hell as he is conditioned and punished for his treatment of other people at the club.

Tags: M/M, M/solo, Humiliation, Doberman, Komodo Dragon, Venom, Drugged, Bondage, Edging, Orgasm, Teasing, Hair Trigger, Condom, Slime, Itch, Anal, Machine, Toy, Revenge, Series, Dubcon, Conditioning, Good Dog, Bad Dog,