@CityBossUK presents: "Fuck Machine"
- Southern Suitor
- Mar 3, 2024
- 25 min read
@CityBossUK described this story this way: "The guy I've discussed that scenario with before, who inspired that story, actually said 'I'd want to parade you around like a prize bull . . . a stud who can take care whenever he wants whilst still remaining under my control . . . I'd be so fucking proud of you.'"
A suited business associate (Pete) and his dapper older mentor (Scott) meet for the first time on a business trip. One fatal drink later, and Pete finds himself tied to a chair, hair and beard trimmed down to a mustache, poppered and squirming and learning to embrace his new role: reduced to a plaything, a ruthless fuck machine for his newfound bulldicked dad, wrestling down his alpha masculinity the whole time, while business associates are paraded in to have their suited fun with him, edging for hours on end until the final eruption. How will one Dom use the other to use to make sure this merger comes fully through?
The Boardroom door clicked shut and the two men looked at each other and grinned as the footsteps of their guests disappeared down the hallway. Pete, a built guy in his late 30’s, dark hair, beard; extended his hand to Scott; who clearly looks after himself and his body, is about 12 years older than Pete, greying hair and a stand-out moustache. Scott grabbed his hand and they gripped firmly in celebration. “That couldn’t have gone any better” smiled Pete, “You had them eating out of the palm of your hand!”.
“Oh please!” replied Scott. He added, “This was a team effort and I couldn’t have done it without you. The preparation you’ve put in is going to pay dividends AND with jet-lag too!”.
Scott and Pete worked for the same corporation with Scott heading up the West Coast operation in the U.S. and Pete overseeing the London office. They’d worked together for some time remotely but with the potential acquisition of a smaller firm; they decided that a face-to-face meet was going to be best to try and convince the client that their terms were not only preferable but were the best terms they were ever going to get. Pete had flown in to San Francisco the previous day and had barely any time to sleep before he had to meet Scott and go through the meeting preparations.
He didn’t let a long journey and some jet-lag get him down though and he came out all-guns-blazing. He wore a Royal blue two-piece suit with a punchy chalkstripe, a crisp white shirt with cutaway collar and double-cuffs, a pair of solid silver knot cufflinks and a bold orange silk tie with a bold pattern that if you didn’t know any better, may look dated but Pete carried it off. It was knotted in a perfect Prince Albert knot - because Pete liked people to notice the details and for people to know that he knew how to dress like a true executive. He also wore a black leather belt and black leather double monk shoes. This was his armour, dressing like this gave him power and made him feel powerful, too. But for Pete, that wasn’t enough. He wanted more and so beneath his suit he wore some navy silk boxers, some black cotton dress socks and navy sock garters. Nobody saw these details but he knew they were there and that gave him another level of cocky power…a charm, if you will, that people could pick up on as soon as they met him.
Scott had worked at the West Coast office for years and was effectively Pete’s equivalent for the U.S. operation. He wore a dark grey two-piece suit, a light blue dress shirt with silver barrel cufflinks and deep red tie in a full-windsor knot. He wore black button braces; black leather Oxford dress shoes and he also had his socks held up with a pair of garters. Neither Scott nor Pete knew each other had these extra details…yet. Scott enjoyed wearing a pair of fitted white briefs and an undervest - something which also gave him a sense of power.
The men had always got on well and, when first joining forces, soon realised they had a great deal in common. They became firm friends and although both powerful men in their field, had an almost paternal relationship which shifts balance from time to time.
“I’m so tired” Pete said has he sat back in his chair and ran his hand down his silk tie; “I had 3 hours sleep last night and today I’ve been running on adrenaline, I’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep”.
Scott laughed, “No way! We’re celebrating! Let’s give those chumps a few more minutes to get their cars and clear the lobby and then we’re heading out, I know this great place we can head to for some drinks”.
Pete looked hesitant but he really did want to celebrate their achievements, especially because usually any celebration meant having some congratulatory chat online before having to log off. He wanted to spend some time with Scott in person, to show his appreciation and to share in their success. “Fuck it, ok, but if I fall asleep in the bar it’s your responsibility to get me back to my hotel!” He said, grinning. Scott smirked, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”.
The bar had a good vibe, full of city-types out for some drinks after work but it wasn’t too crowded. Most of the patrons were suited and booted but both Scott and Pete had discreetly clocked that they were the best dressed there. After a few drinks, Pete had largely forgotten his jet-lag and he and Scott spent a good few hours sharing stories and bonding in a way you can’t quite manage remotely. “I need to head off, I’m whacked and we have a day of drawing up the contracts tomorrow” said Pete with a disappointed resignation that the evening was coming to an end. Scott smiled, “One more drink for the road and then we’ll share a cab - my apartment isn’t far from your hotel so I can make sure you don’t get lost”; he raised his hand to the get the bartenders attention and to order another round of drinks. “You’re a terrible influence on me but ok…I need a piss first” retorted Pete. He tweaked his tie knot, which hadn’t left his snug collar all evening, and headed to the bathroom.
As he finished his last drink of the night, he felt relaxed and was genuinely sad the evening had to come to an end. Maybe it was the jet-lag but the events of the last few days felt like they were merging into one; a conversation he had earlier in the day replayed in his memory like it had just happened, and things he and Scott had discussed just a short while ago felt more like weeks ago. He could hear Scott asking him if he was feeling ok, he felt Scott’s hand on his shoulder in a caring sort of way but he couldn’t see straight, the music in the bar and the conversations happening around him began to echo and distort, the room span, oh shit, he should’ve gone to bed…this was a mistake…fuck….
The first thing Pete noticed was the sound. He could sense movement around him, but he couldn’t see anything but blackness. He was pretty sure his eyes were open but before the panic could set in, the blackness began to lift and he blinked to clear his vision. This was his hotel room. He was in bed; Scott had made sure he got back safely! Wait…no, he wasn’t in bed, he was in a chair, it was the armchair that had sat in the corner of his hotel room. Ok, get out of the chair and get in bed, Pete told himself. He tried to stand but couldn’t - there was something restraining him. This was all happening so quickly and he soon sobered up enough to realise what was going on…
He was sat in the armchair which had been moved to the middle of the room, he became aware he had no trousers on but still had his shoes, socks and sock garters in place. As he looked down, he noticed his silk boxers were still on - so, at least nothing untoward had happened - his shirt was on but had been unbuttoned down to his belly button, his tie had been loosened but still hung from his collar and his hands were tied behind his back. He took a few seconds to survey the situation before muttering “What the fuck…is happening? How did I…?”.
At that point he felt the hands on his shoulders but couldn’t see who was behind him. “Hello there, Sir” said a familiar voice, “Welcome back”.
“S…Scott? Is that you? What the fuck is going on??” Queried Pete.
Scott walked around the chair to face Pete who looked up at him, still with a sense of confusion on his face. “Well, Sir; I know what you have going on in here” said Scott whilst tapping Pete’s head, “…and I wanted to unlock it. You’re too much of a Gentleman for your own good but I see a lot of myself in you and I therefore know what you like” he added.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Scott?” Said Pete as he looked around the hotel room to try and determine if this was a dream, or a joke or…whatever the fuck this was.
“From now on, you call me Dad” said Scott in a calm yet authoritative tone; “You’re going to call me Dad because I’m going to take care of you and make sure you get what you need to thrive and enjoy yourself, understand?”.
Pete had never heard Scott talk like this before; their conversations had generally all been professional for work and friendly and respectful outside of work and yet, what Pete was hearing didn’t sound out of place. “Yeah sure, ok Dad” he said sarcastically, “How about you untie me and we talk about a change of names after that?.
“All in good time, Sir” said Scott as he reached forward and brushed Pete’s shoulders. It was then that Pete realised there were clumps of hair over his shirt; “Where the fuck did that come from?” He asked nervously as surveyed the mess and looked up at Scott who was grinning. “It’s all part of the transformation…Sir” said Scott as he grabbed the tall mirror that had been standing next to the wardrobe and placed it in front of Pete. What looked back at him was a tight buzzcut and a beard that had been taken right down to stubble save for a thick bushy ‘stache. Pete was stunned, so stunned he couldn’t query or question what had happened. As an aside, he never thought he could carry off a ‘stache but this actually looked kinda good!
Pete swallowed nervously; “You cut my hair whilst I was asleep?”. “Sure, it was just easier that way” said Scott nonchalantly; “…you wouldn’t have let me do it otherwise and you need to understand - I know what you want better than you know yourself…Sir” he added whilst brushing more hair off Pete’s shirt.
“You’re a beefy stud, but I think you know that already as I’ve seen the way you peacock, always impeccably dressed, always with the finest silk ties and the most perfect knots”. Scott semi-tightened Pete’s tie but he still looked very dishevelled; “And that bulge…i’ve wanted to know what’s inside those suit pants since the moment I saw you taking a seat on our very first Zoom call and could see the clear bulge in your suit…I swear I haven’t peeked the whole time you’ve been passed out, I want to share the reveal with you and we should be ready before long” said Scott as he tidied the clippers away and made sure he was still perfectly dressed via his reflection in the mirror.
Pete had always admired a compliment about how he looked and dressed, ego-massaging was a big part of the job and it’s something he’d grown quite accustomed to but hearing Scott compliment him like that felt different, it was more affirming, it felt more genuine and it made him feel good about himself in a way he’d not felt for some time…oh shit…Pete realised all this flattery was somewhat turning him on and he felt his cock begin to swell. Acutely aware that he only had silk boxers on - and that they would hide NOTHING - he tried his best to divert his mind to anything that would make this boner subside - the accounts, ah yes, think about the accounts they need to draw up tomorrow and try and do the sums. Nothing kills a boner like mental arithmetic…nope, it’s not working, Scott’s words were still ringing in his ears…. “Beefy stud…peacock…impeccably dressed…that bulge…”. Fuck, his cock was still growing, as the blood pumped he felt it press against the inside of his silk boxers and begin to slide against the material. FUCK! NO! He’s going to notice! Ok…the contract, think through the terms of the contract we need to draft...nope, it’s still not working…it’s still growing…I’m not even turned on but this thing won’t stop…
“Well damn, Son” said Scott as he glanced down at the silk material straining against what was undeniably one solid hard cock. So tight was the material you could make out the veins. Scott reached down and gently traced his finger along the shaft through the silk, Pete’s cock gave an involuntary tensing and he felt the unmistakable sensation of pre-cum surging from his dick. Scott leaned in close to Pete’s face, “I was expecting good things but this is beyond what I thought you’d be packing down there. And it took no time at all to start working so I know you’re getting into the right mindset for the evening”
“Working?” Said Pete, confused. “The Cialis I mixed into your drink in the bar…it’s working” said Scott transfixed on the bulge which was still growing. “You…you fucking drugged me so I’d get a boner??” Said Pete with an undertone of anger; “Why would you do that?” He added, looking down for the first time at his bulge which was now less a bulge and more a tent with a patch of pre-cum which was spreading through the material. “Don’t worry” assured Scott, “You’re going to fucking love what I’ve got planned and don’t forget…the Cialis only works if you’re turned on enough to get a boner, it doesn’t just give you one automatically, and judging by this fine specimen - you’re VERY turned on”. Pete hadn’t really considered this point until Scott mentioned it but…something about this situation was turning him on. The clearer his head got, the more he realised this felt…right.
“Fuck” winced Pete. “You ok there, Son? You need anything?” Said Scott with genuine concern. Pete glanced down again “The fly of these boxers…the material, the stitching…my bell-end…I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before but if something doesn’t give way soon this stitching is going to cut me like cheese wire”.
“Not on my watch, this fine bulldick has quite the night ahead of it” said Scott as he kneeled between Pete’s legs and held his cock through the silk, manoeuvring it enough to get some slack in the material before prizing it out through the fly. It sprang upwards, almost like it was gasping for air and could finally breathe again, another surge of pre cum oozed out. “I’m not wasting a fucking drop” winked Scott as he gently but expertly licked up the stream of pre-cum running down the shaft. Pete was taken aback but it felt good and by this point he was more intrigued than afraid about what Scott had planned.
As Scott worked his cock with his mouth, Pete looked at himself in the mirror which still stood in front of him. He looked good - the haircut looked tight, the ‘stache made him feel like a pornstar and the sight of his fine Italian silk tie trailing down his chest and belly, pointing to the guy carefully sucking his cock, made him feel like quite the stud. He smirked at himself as he felt that familiar cocky arrogance begin to swell inside him. “You like that cock?” he muttered but Scott was too busy slurping and groaning to hear. “You like that cock…DAD?” He said, louder. This caught Scott by surprise and he looked up from Pete’s cock as he felt his own cock reach full mast “Fuck yes, Sir!” He said with a grin and before he could say anything else Pete growled, “Get back down on it then…Dad”. Scott duly went back to work and Pete instinctively began bucking his hips to get his cock deeper into Scott’s throat. “Fuck yeah, Dad…suck my fucking bulldick”.
He wasn’t sure if it was the Cialis but Pete couldn’t remember ever leaking this much pre-cum before but it added to him feeling like a Porn star stud. He assumed that Scott would suck him to completion but after only a minute or so of sucking, Scott stopped and stood up. Picking up his phone and scrolling through some messages he smiled “Our guests are almost here”.
“Guests???” Said Pete with a sense of panic, fully aware that he was still restrained and didn’t want to be seen like this. “What fucking guests? Have you got us hookers to share?” He said hopefully, knowing that a paid hole wouldn’t be any risk to his reputation or discretion. “Not quite hookers” said Scott as he reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a small, familiar looking bottle. “Remember these?” said Scott as he held the bottle up to Pete’s face, like a sommelier offering up the finest wine a restaurant has to offer. “Jackhammer Gold…poppers…” said Pete, knowingly, “I’m amazed you remembered, I only mentioned it in passing, briefly, ages ago…”. Scott interjected “…yes that you’d had some of the best fucks of your life when using Jackhammer Gold and how they make your bulldick harder than ever and gave you an arrogance that made you fuck like a Porn star”.
“I mean…I don’t know that my cock…nah, my BULLDICK can get any harder than this, Dad” said Pete, without any hesitation at using the term “Dad”. Scott unfastened the lid of the bottle of poppers and stepped close “Well we’re about to find out, Son…”.
Holding the bottle under Pete’s nose, Scott sealed his nostril and told him to inhale, counting steadily to 10 before repeating the same with the other nostril. He resealed the bottle as Pete caught his breath and threw his head back as he felt the rush began to flood over him. The warm sensation, almost out of body, cascaded from his head all the way down to his cock which surged more pre-cum and began bouncing with the pressure of the blood pumping through it “FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK” roared Pete as he looked down at his bulldick. “Look at that fucking thing!” He proudly exclaimed before looking up at Scott for approval. Scott’s eyes were transfixed on Pete’s throbbing pole, “Damn, Son” he muttered.
“Suck me…suck it, Dad…fucking suck it!!!” Pleaded Pete as the effect of the poppers reached their climax. “No, Sir” Scott replied firmly, “I’m saving you for later”.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK went the door and Scott’s face lit up as he hurried over to answer it. Pete was positioned so that his back was to the door and so he couldn’t see who it was but Scott greeted them warmly and with a sense of familiarity, “Gentlemen, I’m so glad you made it. Come on in, we’re just getting warmed up in here”. The poppers were wearing off but Pete was aware that three people had entered the room and were standing in front of him. His face was flushing and his eyes were slightly glazed but as he looked up, he immediately recognised the men standing in front of him. It was the clients from the meeting earlier. His head wobbling slightly as he tried to regain composure, Pete greeted the guests, “Hello, guys. Apologies that I’m not quite so well turned out right now as I was earlier but this looks like it’s going to be an evening of firsts for me and as you can see…I’m not exactly in control of what’s happening right now”.
“You look….fine…very good…VERY good” said one of the guests nervously whilst moving his gaze back and forth between Scott and Pete’s bulldick. The two other guests smiled wryly and one reached over and gave Pete’s cock a gentle playful squeeze, “You said he was big, Scott but this is…impressive,” said the guest. “”Of course, gentlemen, feel free to inspect our prize stud for the evening. I’ve taken the liberty of warming him up for us” said Scott as he gestured to the guests, inviting them to touch and feel Pete.
Pete looked almost offended, “What am I? A piece of meat for you lot to play with?”, “And what a piece of meat you are” said Scott leaning in and kissing Pete on the lips, their ‘staches bristling against each other's. Pete was confused but he was also still drunk, drugged and a little high off the poppers. All of that, mixed with the fact he was an open-minded kinda guy, meant he was settling in and was prepared to fully trust his friend and go with the flow.
“So, gentlemen…” said Scott, “…some ground rules…Pete here is our prize bull stud to play with, he’s a little tied up right now but I think we may need to let him loose later on. You can see his bulldick is primed for action - I’ve seen to that personally - so enjoy and let’s not forget, this is the dealbreaker…your evening with Pete means you sign on the dotted line tomorrow, agreed?”. The guests all nodded keenly in agreement and began taking off their jackets and getting comfortable whilst Scott poured them all drinks. This wasn’t even the hottest part of the whole experience but Pete’s cock was still raging and the fact these men were all leering over him and admiring him just encouraged him.
There was very little small-talk before Scott took charge of the situation. Instructing each of the men over in turn to inspect Pete; his body, his clothing - or what remained of it - and his tool which was standing proudly to attention through the stretched fly of his silk boxers. As the men inspected, with some taking the initiative to play with, or even suck, his bulldick, Pete writhed in frustrated pleasure and Scott continued to force him to huff poppers. Each hit of poppers made Pete’s face redder and his breathing got deeper, his cock thicker and his groans turned to deep growls. Scott remained stood by Pete’s side like a proud Dad showing off. Occasionally stroking his face, kissing him and teasing his cock…or gently playing with his tie, which he realised drove Pete wild.
One of the guests took great pleasure in working Pete’s cock with his mouth and hands until he was almost screaming to make him cum. “Fucking suck my cock, fucker…go on, make me cum…I need to cum…I fucking NEED to cum! I WANNA PUMP MY FUCKING SEED DOWN YOUR NECK” but Scott took control and told the guest to stop. “DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP! YOU FUCKING CUNT! TAKE IT! YOU FUCKING PUSSY! YOU WANT TO GET ME WORKED UP AND THEN WIMP OUT? YOU CAN’T HANDLE IT?? YOU TOO SCARED TO SUCK A REAL MAN’S POLE???” Growled Pete, spitting with frustration. Scott reiterated for the guest to back off and so he did, retreating to the edge of the bed, sitting next to another of the guests whilst the third sat on the sofa. They were all worked up and throughout this experience had managed to get themselves into various states of undress. The guests - and Scott - took turns in pleasuring each other with their hands and mouths until one of the guests climbed onto the lap of another and let him slide in. They both faced Pete as he bounced up and down, neither of them paying attention to the other, just both staring at this bulk of British man, in a state of undress, raging hard-on, an absolute vision of masculinity and yet he was being used like a piece of meat. Teased, worked up, worshipped, sucked and then left alone. Forced to sip whisky and huff poppers whilst his hands remained tied behind his back, unable to touch himself or take control in the way he usually would. The guest clamped his arms around the guy on his lap and thrusted harder before reaching a shuddering climax. The guest who was riding his cock bounced harder still until strings of cum shot from his own cock all over the floor of the hotel with a couple of splashes landing on Pete’s double-monks.
Pete’s face dropped when he saw this happen, “Fucking clean my shoes up you little pussy!” He barked. The guest was catching his breath and even though Pete was tied up, he knew he meant business and so quickly dropped to the floor and used his discarded underwear to polish up the soiled shoes. Whilst this was going on, Scott and the third guest had been kissing and pleasuring each other on the sofa which sat opposite Pete. Scott regularly glanced over at Pete and smiled and winked whilst mouthing various phrases such as “Oh fuck!” And “Look at you, stud!!”. He was so proud of the Fuck Machine he’d created and despite having first doubted Pete’s throwaway story about how Jackhammer Gold poppers made him feel and act, was beyond happy that he got to witness the reality first hand throughout the evening.
The two guests who had spent their loads, fixed themselves up and told their friend they’d see him in the bar. The guest in question looked up from sucking Scott’s cock and said “Sure fellas, see you down there” after which Scott grabbed the back of his head and pushed him back down on his cock.
Scott and Pete kept making eye-contact. Scott in the throes of pleasure whilst Pete was a sweating, panting beast who looked on the verge of war, such was the sexual frustration that had been built up throughout the evening. He hoped his friend and colleague would help him out but he was too busy enjoying himself. The two guests grabbed their coats and stopped to stroke Pete’s face and cock one last time, like someone leaving a friend's house and patting the dog they’d spent ages playing with during their visit. Pete tried to shake their hands off of him and growled “FUCK OFF! YOU FUCKING PUSSYS! COUDLN’T ACTUALLY MAKE ME CUM, COULD YOU??? FUCK. OFF!”.
“You performed very well; we’ll see you tomorrow for the contract signing” said one of the guys as they made for the door and left.
Pete writhed further, Scott and the third guest seemed to have almost forgotten about him as they’d began fucking. Scott stripped to his undervest, briefs, socks and sock garters and the other guest stripped totally naked from the waist down and his shirt and tie loose on his top half. Pete was forced to sit and watch as the two men tussled, their mouths, cocks and hands all mingling, both of them lubed up and taking turns to fuck each other. Pete’s cock was by now almost purple, the veins looking ready to burst and he kept writhing, grunting and growling with anger and frustration.
“One of you get over here and worship me!” Pete growled, “Not right now, Sir. Dad is examining the finer points of this business deal” gasped Scott, flustered as he pinned the guest down and hammered into him with his cock that was poking through the fly of his briefs. Pete writhed further until…*snap*, he felt his wrist restraint loosen slightly, he pulled his hands harder apart… snap…snap…snap, he gave one last hard tug and riiiiiiippp, the wrist restraint disintegrated and fell to the floor. Scott glanced over just in time to see the Fuck Machine rise from the armchair and strut over.
As he made his way over to the sofa, Pete stretched and flexed his arms which had been tied behind him for quite some time. He then clamped his hand onto his bulldick and began stroking, letting out a long groan as he finally got to feel the pleasure he’d been craving but had been denied. He placed his hand on Scott’s shoulder and pulled him off the guest he’d been fucking. The guest looked over his own shoulder having lost himself in the moment and not realising the Fuck Machine was free. “Oh fuck!” He gasped as he turned himself over and tried to sit up but the Fuck Machine straddled him and pinned him down on the sofa and slapped his bulldick in his face “Suck, cunt” he barked whilst, without waiting for a response, he forced his cock into the guests mouth and began thrusting, “Ohhhhhh FUUUUUUUCK YEEEEEAH” the Fuck Machine exclaimed as his head tipped back and he growled like a werewolf silhouetted against the moon.
Scott grinned widely at his creation finally exerting his power and taking what he wanted and proudly patted him on the back as he made his way to the table to fetch the poppers. As the Fuck Machine mercilessly fucked the guests throat, Scott administered the poppers as he’d been doing throughout the evening. An arrogant smile broke out across the Fuck Machine’s face as the poppers took effect and he began to jackhammer the guests throat without a second thought for his comfort or pleasure. Scott stood back and admired the scene before him, “Look at you go, Son!” He exclaimed with a sense of paternal pride. “You’re next, Dad” panted the Fuck Machine.
Scott dropped to his knees and half-jokingly said “Let me have it, Sir”. The Fuck Machine withdrew from the guest, who collapsed onto the sofa trying to catch his breath, took to his feet and strutted over to Scott. Holding his bulldick firmly, he hit Scott in the face with it, his mouth falling open in the hope of getting a taste. The Fuck Machine clicked his fingers, “Poppers” he grunted. “You heard the man!” Said Scott to the guest who, still extremely red in the face, reached over and handed the poppers to the Fuck Machine. He took two long, deep inhales and placed the bottle on the table. The warm surge hit his head and made it’s way down his body until it hit his cock. The Fuck Machine using both hands, grabbed the fly on his silk boxers and tore it open, the silk hanging from the waistband in shreds, his bulldick finally free he grabbed Scott’s head, “Open wide, Dad” he said with the cockiest of grins on his face.
Scott opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue and dutifully took the bulldick to the back of his throat. He’d wanted this for so long but even he was surprised at the girth of the pole and power with which the Fuck Machine took him. Gagging and wretching, Scott took the bulldick like a champ and let the Fuck Machine get rid of some of that pent up aggression. The guest had regained his composure but mistakenly laid back on the sofa and sighed, “Ohhh fuck, I’m exhausted”. This was like a red rag to a literal bull and the Fuck Machine let go of Scott’s head and walked back over to the guest, held his nose until his mouth opened and sunk back in. This was more than powerful, this was brutal. The aggression the Fuck Machine felt at being used, albeit in a way that massaged his ego, was being taken out on the guest. At that moment the Fuck Machine didn’t care about the contract or the work he and Scott had put in to making the deal a success…he only cared about his own pleasure.
The guest fumbled and grabbed at the Fuck Machine’s hairy arse in an attempt to try and control the depth at which his throat was being raped but to no avail. The irony wasn’t lost on him that he’d been treating this executive like a piece of meat and now he was being treated in exactly the same way. The Fuck Machine grabbed the guest by the collar of his shirt and threw him over the sofa so he was bent over. “Errrr…I don’t know about this…” said the guest nervously, “…I might need some more lube or some warming up…AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUCK”. The Fuck Machine fed his bulldick into the guests' tight hole until he couldn’t get in any further, he let go of his shaft and tensed his member; the guest letting out a further yelp as he felt his hole burning as it tried to accommodate the girth. Scott laughed pleasure and admiration at his creation taking what he wanted. He got onto his feet and walked over, firmly grasping the Fuck Machines arse through the shredded silk boxers and speaking words of encouragement in his ear, “You beast…take this pussy, it’s yours to do whatever you want to…go on, Son…fuck that pussy like the FUCK MACHINE I TURNED YOU INTO”.
Scott placed the poppers bottle under the Fuck Machine’s nose again and he inhaled deeply. As the chemicals took hold his thrusts became singular and hard, his hands pulling the guests shoulders back so he could feel his balls hitting his butt cheeks. The Fuck Machine let out an animalistic growl before taking a step back. Letting his bulldick spring free from the guests’ ruined hole, the Fuck Machine gave his pole a few seconds of hard stroking before his executive seed erupted, long thick strings of cum shot all over the guests back, his head, up onto the wall and all over the sofa. The Fuck Machines’ growls calmed down and he caught his breath before slapping his still-solid bulldick on the guests’ arse. “Get this bitch out of here, Dad” he said as he fell back onto the edge of the bed, the remnants of his load dripping from his bulldick onto the floor.
Scott helped the guest up from the sofa, he could barely stand nor walk. “Oh man, I need a shower” he said with a satisfied look on his face. “Not here…go to your own room” snapped the Fuck Machine. “I think you better leave” said Scott, sensing that the Fuck Machine wasn’t in the mood to play host. “It’s ok, my room is only a few doors down the hall, honestly, it’s fine, I’ll go” he said, a little taken aback at the forcefulness of the Fuck Machine. “Thanks Pete, that was really…good…that was really hot…I’ll…I’ll see you tomorrow in the office for the signing” the guest said as he picked up his belongings and walked towards the door, holding them in front of his cock which was still exposed and was rapidly going flaccid. He dropped his jacket and as he bent to pick it up, he dropped a shoe, “Here, let me help you” offered Scott as he took some of the belongings, opened the door to the hotel room to make sure the coast was clear and escorted the guest back to his own room.
A few minutes passed with Scott and the guest having some small talk about how the deal and the evening had panned out. As Scott made his way down the hall back to the room, still in his undershirt, briefs, socks and garters, he realised he didn’t have the room key. He knocked gently so as not to attract any attention but there was no answer. He knocked again as he looked around to see if anyone had spotted this executive out in the hall in a state of undress. He knocked once more but still no answer. He leaned in close to the door, “Hey! I need you to open the door, I don’t have my key!”
Eventually the latch clicked and the door opened. There stood the Fuck Machine in a fresh, crisp shirt, fully fastened, a new silk tie expertly knotted and snug up to the collar, starched double-cuffs. Scott’s raised his eyebrows “Well, Sir, someone is ready to hit the bar!”. His eyes traced the stud in front of him down to the tip of his tie and right there, poking through the tails of the shirt was the Fuck Machine’s bulldick - full mast, standing to attention, as veiny as it had been all evening. The Fuck Machine stood to one side to let Scott in, as he did, the lady in the room opposite opened her door to leave and caught an eye-full of the Fuck Machine’s cock - her eyes met his and he smirked and winked before closing the door. “Wow” she whispered as she felt her face flush and made her way down the hall to the elevators.
Scott went to walk over to the bed but the Fuck Machine grabbed the back of his undershirt and forced him down into the armchair which had been his own prison for most of the evening. He stood in front of Scott, his legs in a wide stance, his hands on his hips, his dress shirt fitting in all the right ways, “Look what you’ve done to me, Dad” he said, nodding down to his bulldick. It won’t go down; I’ve bust my nut and I’m still horny as fuck”. “Well, Son…that’ll be the Cialis” Scott said whilst looking mighty proud of himself. “Well, Dad, you’re gonna take care of this for me”.
The Fuck Machine grabbed Scott by the neck of his undershirt and dragged him to the table in front of the mirror. The force of the manoeuvre caused his undershirt to rip at the neck but he took his place bent over on the table. The Fuck Machine stood behind him and started lubing up his cock, “You gonna show me who’s Boss, Son?” Teased Scott, shaking his arse almost as if to try and tempt the Fuck Machine. He felt the back of his briefs tighten as the Fuck Machine grabbed them and the pressure increased until he heard the sound of ripping. The Fuck Machine ripped the back out of the briefs and started feeding his bulldick into Scott’s tight hole. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh, fuuuuck, Son! Dammit!” cried out Scott, “I’m gonna fucking own you, Dad” said the Fuck Machine, “You created this monster and now you’re going to have to deal with the consequences…Dad”. He began fucking Scott whilst watching their reflection in the mirror, occasionally tweaking his tie knot so that he remained looking his best throughout.
The power of this thrusts increased as did the speed, “Who’s the Dad?” Growled the Fuck Machine, “I am, Son,” said Scott. “And who’s the Fuck Machine, Dad?” He said as his hands gripped Dad’s waist and held him firm whilst he ploughed him, “ You are, Son,” said Dad. “Say it again, Dad…” said the Fuck Machine with a cocky grin which by now matched the one on Dad’s face… “YOU are the FUCK. MACHINE, Son!” Repeated Dad at which point the Fuck Machine lost control and unloaded deep inside Dad’s guts. Each thrust launched his executive seed deeper until he was spent and carefully withdrew his bulldick.
Dad composed himself; having the Fuck Machine’s seed inside him made him feel…not owned, not subservient…but honoured. He felt lucky. He tugged down his torn briefs and mentioned he needed a shower but as he turned around he saw the Fuck Machine standing there having pulled on his suit trousers. He was commando and his bulldick still raging at full mast and he eventually managed to wrestle it into his trousers and fasten them. The dick print outline on the trousers left nothing to the imagination but the Fuck Machine seemed proud of it, “Get suited, Dad. We’re going to the bar to meet those fuckers and to discuss the new terms of the contract, I think we’re in an even stronger position now” he said with a wink as he tweaked his tie knot and headed towards the door but before leaving he turned back to Dad, grabbed his bulge, and said “If this thing hasn’t gone by the time we’re finished negotiating, you’re gonna milk me dry”. He smirked and the door clicked shut behind him.
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