Work Text:
This was not what Percy had in mind when he’d volunteered himself for one of the new glory holes at work.
The heels of his hands pressed into the reinforced plywood around his hips, fisting against the rough material as he bit back a half-delirious moan.
On the other side of the wall, the stranger's tongue continued lapping at his cunt like a man starved. He’d been at it for what felt like ages and Percy was about to lose his mind.
The Bad Dog was an infamous underground gay bar known for its borderline illegal strip shows and kinky events debauch enough to make even the particularly adventurous blush. Percy had known this, of course, when he scored a job bussing tables and mopping floors there. It wasn’t glamorous but he liked the hours—he’d always been a night owl at heart—and it was interesting, for a janitorial gig anyway.
Their newest attraction had probably finally crossed the line into criminal territory, but far be it from Percy to snitch. He was actually rather intrigued by the idea.
Czech glory holes, they called them in porn, according to Percy’s manager at least. Though, they reminded him more of the “stuck in a wall” troupe he saw in overstylized hentai comics on Reddit.
The premise was simple—they built walls with padded holes in them big enough to stick a torso through, put someone with a nice ass inside and cinched a strap down around their waist so they couldn’t move. That left whatever was between their legs free for whoever paid enough (and had papers verifying they were clean) to play with as they pleased.
The only problem his manager was facing was a lack of volunteers.
There was a cash incentive, sure, but it was small. Management wasn’t too eager to drop resources until they knew how popular it was going to be. Most of the regular dancers and entertainers were also biding their time, waiting to see how the attraction would do before throwing their proverbial hat in the ring.
Essentially, no one wanted to be one of the first.
Of the five available spots, one vacancy stubbornly lingered the night before opening and Percy thought his manager may’ve dropped dead of an aneurysm right then had he not volunteered.
“Are you sure it's alright that I’m trans?” Percy questioned, repositioning the heavy tub of glass in his hands. They rattled against each other softly, but the sound was swallowed by loud technopop and the chatter of patrons at the bar nursing ridiculously strong drinks—another thing the Bad Dog was known for.
“Huh? Oh, honey, absolutely,” his manager replied, not looking up from the phone in his hand. “I’m dying to see how popular you’re going to be.”
Percy paused, gaze dropping to the side. “How will they know I’m not just…you know, a girl?” he asked, hesitation leaking into his tone. He looked pretty masculine from the waist up—broad shoulders and toned arms he’d worked hard to build onto his naturally slim frame. His genetics had also blessed him with a respectable amount of bottom growth once he’d started testosterone.
Though still rather diminutive in the grander scheme of things, he was quite proud of his little dick. It perked up to about 4 centimeters long—he would know, he’d measured it a few times more than would probably be considered respectable—and it was sensitive. That was one change he hadn’t anticipated.
Before testosterone, he would jack off by rubbing his clit back and forth with a quick hand, messy and frantic. Now, direct pressure on the head of his little cock lit up his nerves like a taser blast. Masturbation required a much more precise balance of pressure, delicate little strokes between the pads of his fingers to start followed by the rougher treatment that would actually make him cum.
It was fastidious work, more so than his typical bedfellows usually cared to deal with, finding it much easier to simply fuck him or be fucked by him. Percy didn’t mind, not anymore. He’d grown used to clumsy, hurried foreplay to the point that his body expected it—cock twitching and cunt dripping after a few sloppy kisses more often than not.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” his manager looked up from the phone finally, the bags beneath his eyes only accentuated by the low, neon lighting. “There’ll be a picture of your darling mug next to you. Speaking of, I need to snap it tonight so catch me before you leave. I’ll photoshop it up for you—cute, scandalous, or completely unrecognizable. It’s your call, sugar.”
Percy just shrugged. “Nah, it’s fine. Just make sure it's flattering.”
“Oh, believe me, honey, I will,” his manager replied, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “I have money riding on how fuckable all of,” he motioned vaguely at Percy, “this is. “But you’re easy—that face is pure honey. Now, you should see the ghoul we’ve got in the hole across from you. We're talking full-on jump scare. Woof. Got my work cut out for me.”
The rest of the night passed by in a blur of heavy bass, body heat, and mysterious sticky substances Percy had to scrub from every surface imaginable, both vertical and horizontal. The repetitive, mindless motion was almost a comfort, giving his thoughts somewhere to idle while anticipation and anxiety wrestled in his stomach.
As four a.m. crawled closer, his manager hooked two fingers into his sleeve and steered him into the back office. He snapped a few quick photos, eyes flicking between the screen and Percy’s face, muttering about small adjustments, then swept him toward the rear hallway. Velvet ropes, deep wine-red and looped between polished brass stanchions, marked out a luxurious walkway, lending a hint of ceremony to the descent into the converted space.
The room itself had been a back office in its former life—packed with stuffy old furniture and filing cabinets no one had touched in years. Now, it was something else entirely.
Both sides of the room were flanked by reinforced plywood walls, painted in shades of matte black and crimson. Waist-high gaps punctuated each wall, padded along the edges and underscored by a cushioned shelf—suggestive in its own right.
Beyond each slot lay a narrow box, just long enough for a body, padded like a massage table but enclosed on three sides. The black vinyl covering gave off a faint synthetic sheen—waterproof, easy to wipe clean. It felt more contained than a bed, more specialized than a chair, and somehow more intimate than either.
“This is where you’ll be laying that fine self down,” his manager said, guiding him through a thin, almost secret passage that wound around to the hidden side. “Pack a water bottle, maybe some chips—hell, bring a charcuterie board, I’m not your mother. Just keep your mouth under control. No chatting, no loud moaning, no bad acting. If I get complaints you best believe I will gag you, and trust me, it won’t be cute.”
He motioned to a corner where a tall stool and a closed duffel bag sat. “We’ll have a bouncer in here making sure everything stays wholesome and kosher, alright? You need anything, you text him.”
Finally, he picked up a thick padded strap fixed near the waist-high gap. “Buckle this right ‘round that waist, baby. Snug. No sliding, unless it’s for dramatic effect.” He passed Percy the strap, letting him feel the weight between his hands. “Safety first, baby.”
Percy returned home just in time to spot the overachievers—those dawn-jogging masochists—cutting laps in the park just before the morning sun.
Sleep hit fast, but didn’t have the decency to stay. He woke a few hours before his shift, a full hour ahead of his alarm. The water-stained ceiling stared back at him, blank and unhelpful, and he knew from the restless hum in his head that chasing sleep was a lost cause.
In the kitchen, he fixed a bowl of cereal, standing over it for a long moment like he might somehow negotiate with it for better nutritional value. With a sigh, he grabbed an apple, hacked it into uneven slices, and fished a cardboard carton of protein shake from the fridge. It wasn’t the most harmonious combination flavor-wise, but it did the trick.
The shower ran hot, steam curling against the mirror as he scrubbed himself down until the heat gave up and the water turned cold, prickling gooseflesh up his arms. Only then did he drag his gaze downward—he was due for a shave.
He usually kept his pubic hair trim, but it had grown out a little— temporarily neglected in the endless cycle of mundanity. The battery-powered razor buzzed in his hand as it fought back the dark curly hairs. He gave the whole thing a once over before standing back, looking himself up and down in the mirror. A patch stood out to one side of his cock, shorter than the rest. He frowned before going back at it until he had worried the whole thing down to near baldness.
Fuck it, shaved it was.
Six o’clock snuck up on him, and before he knew it he was pulling his jacket tight around his shoulders, heading back toward the Bad Dog with a restless flutter working in his chest. He was hyperaware of the way his cotton boxers brushed against his clean shaven crotch as he walked making him nervously second guess his choice.
The bouncer at the back door hardly paid him any mind, taking a quick look at his face before returning to the book in her hand, waving him through absentmindedly with the other. Before he could even finish pulling his sweatshirt over his head, his manager’s hand came down on his shoulder, pushing him—still half tangled in the cotton—back towards the green room.
“Thank god you’re here. I was starting to worry you’d get cold feet,” his manager rattled off, words spilling out at a mile a minute. “Word’s out we’ve got a cute little thing with some special hardware lined up—that’s you, sweetness. Oh, lordy, I’m telling you, I have a good feeling about tonight.”
Percy stumbled into the green room, taking in the three other men already stationed along the walls. They were slouched on stools and chairs, some scrolling absently on their phones, others already in various states of undress. The air was warm and heavy with the scent of amber cologne and cigarette smoke.
“I need you in your place by 7:20 and not a second later, capiche?” his manager called over his shoulder.
Percy gave a little faux salute as the door clicked shut, then dropped into an empty chair in the corner. Without much thought, he stripped off his pants; no one else in the room was wearing any. His thin cotton tank top hung loose, pooling at his waist. Comfortable, breathable, but not so revealing as to matter, since the upper half of him would be hidden.
The time came fast and before he knew it he was sliding into his assigned plywood box—Czech glory hole, he reminded himself with a private smirk. He wondered, not for the first time, what Czechia had to do with this particular contraption. Probably nothing.
His manager secured the strap around his waist with fast hands, moving on to the next performer without lingering. Then, all Percy could do was wait as the lights were dimmed and the sound of patrons milling outside the closed door grew louder.
His manager’s voice filtered through the walls, hyping the night with exaggerated excitement, bragging about how glad he was everyone could be there, and peppering it all with dirty jokes and rambling commentary. Percy drummed a nervous pattern on the vinyl as the bouncer unlocked with the heavy clunk of tumblers. Boots hit the tile outside, echoing strangely in the small room. Percy counted carefully to distract himself—at least three sets of feet, no more than eight.
It wasn’t long at all before one set grew louder, closer and closer still before stopping directly behind him.
His breath hitched as a pair of warm hands gently cupped his ass, fingertips kneading gently into the plump tissue.
The stranger’s palms were broad and lightly calloused on the palms. Percy twitched his hips up encouragingly as the stranger’s thumbs gently tugged him apart, spreading the very back of his cunt. Something hungry and eager stirred in his gut as he felt warm air ghost over the freshly exposed folds.
There was a pause as the stranger readjusted his grip, fingers sinking in as he pried Percy open a little more as if examining him. Percy felt his face flush at the scrutiny, chastising himself for having the audacity to be embarrassed already. His cunt clenched, rosy walls fluttering and the stranger let out a sharp breath at the sight—hopefully a sound of approval, but Percy wasn’t sure.
His fingers fisted into his palms as he anticipated the cock that would soon begin pushing at his entrance. He could almost feel it, his body envisioning the familiar sensation—that heavy weight sinking inside, stretching him wide, pounding into him.
Instead, something soft and wet pressed against his little cock. It took him a moment to identify the sensation as a warm tongue as the stranger began to lap at him with short, delicate strokes. He was… eating Percy out?
His toes curled into the polished floor as the stranger’s mouth explored his heat with little kitten licks, tracing his inner lips with the very tip of his tongue. He worked his way up one side, then back down before repeating the process on the other.
His pace was unhurried, far from the overeager lapping of inexperience Percy was used to on the rare occasion someone went down on him. No, the stranger was delicate in his ministrations, exploring smooth pink skin with a knowing touch.
After a few passes, Percy felt his body respond. His inner walls slickened, arousal trailing in a barely-there shimmer from his entrance—not yet dripping desperately, but a quiet invitation. The stranger hummed against him, the motion reverberating softly along Percy’s skin as he began to focus his attention lower.
He trailed his tongue up the back of Percy’s little cock, forcing a stifled moan from the trapped boy’s lips. The sensation shot straight through him like an arrow through the gut, sending a delicious shiver up his spine. The muscles in his thighs clenched at the touch, knees pressing into the plywood.
The stranger’s grip dropped from his ass to his hips and the angle of his mouth shifted. Kneeling—he was kneeling, Percy realized. Almost immediately, Percy processed what it meant—the stranger wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon.
That warm tongue continued delicately lapping at the back of his cock, working between his folds to press himself even closer to the little appendage as it began to twitch eagerly. But the stranger was careful to keep the rest of his mouth off of Percy’s cunt, his breath ghosting against the rapidly dampening entrance, but not yet touching. His attention was deliberate and single minded, amplifying each careful lick.
“Hhg–mm,” Percy choked down a moan, trying to push his hips back against the stranger’s mouth only to be stopped by the grip on his hips. Fuck, this guy was strong. Even without the belt latched snug around his waist, Percy stood no chance of repositioning himself in any way that mattered.
The wall next to him began shuddering rhythmically and he couldn’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. His neighboor was being fucked with long snapping strokes while Percy was completely at the mercy of this stranger and his apparent obsession with the underside of Percy’s cock.
He pressed his face into the padded vinyl, breathing hard through his nose as he tried to endure the slow teasing. Surely the stranger would get bored soon. Surely…
Finally, his touch glanced lower, cupping Percy’s clit and holding it on the tip of his tongue like a pearl. Even though the touch was insultingly light, Percy felt the sensation all the way to the tips of his toes, the sensitive nerves firing all at once.
“—f…—nngh–!” he groaned behind clenched teeth. Immediately, the touch receded, only to return a moment later, not cradling this time but fluttering. Right to left, left to right, back again—fast little motions against the side of his cock the made Percy clamp a hand over his mouth with enough force that the slap was audible.
The stranger's tongue continued to dance across his cock, flicking it side to side with quick little staccato motions. Warm fluid welled on his skin, coating his puffy outer lips and he couldn’t tell if it was spit, arousal, or some sordid combination of the two.
He felt the stranger’s breath as much as he heard it—short open mouthed exhales that brushed across his skin. With just the tip of his tongue, this unseen man had managed to unravel Percy with surgical ease. It was as maddening as it was bewildering, yet in that instant, both were irrelevant.
His first orgasm snuck up on him like a tsunami, crashing over him with a wave of white-hot pleasure. His fists spasmed against the vinyl, some pathetic, choked sound slipping out from deep in his chest. The soft overhead lights blurred in his periphery before his eyes fluttered shut. He was vaguely aware of the stranger’s touch slowing, rapid little wags pettering off into gentle languid licks as he continued to eat Percy out through his climax.
Surely now he would fuck Percy. Maybe he had a personal covenant about assuring his partner’s pleasure before his own. Maybe he had simply been curious, simply wanted to see how Percy looked when he squirmed. Percy could rationalize that, so surely now…
Spit-slicked lips wrapped around his still shuddering cock, a little chapped near the edges but carefully aligned so that only the softest part of them pressed against Percy’s heat.
“What–what are you—” he panted before remembering the strict order not to speak.
Regardless, the stranger didn’t reply. He simply continued to work Percy with his mouth, gently stroking the little appendage until it obediently perked back up between his lips. He continued that delicate stroking motion—not tugging, not sucking—just tracing up and down, up and down with a gentle, steady pressure.
“Mmmhh… uhh… mmphhh,” breathy little moans began to slip from his parted lips as his back arched involuntarily. The stranger wasn’t just eating him out—he was giving Percy a proper blow job.
Percy had heard other trans men talk about getting blow jobs from their partners, but assumed it was just semantics. He’d long since accepted that his anatomy was different than a cis man’s, embraced it even. His pleasure was different, he knew that, but something in the back of his mind had always stayed a little jealous when he watched how easily men came undone with his lips around their cocks.
How could they cum from oral so easily? It simply wasn’t fair. Anyone with a mouth could give a decent blow job, but performing oral on Percy felt like it ought to come with a handbook.
A handbook that this stranger apparently had—hell, it felt like he’d written the damn thing. Percy’s abs clenched as the man began suckling at his cock—first slowly, a barely there pull at the top of each stroke. The hands on his hips repositioned, looping a little lower around his thighs as the suction intensified.
Impossibly lewd, wet noises sounded as the stranger latched onto his cock, upper lips kissing Percy’s cunt as he pressed himself closer. Arousal dripped from his neglected entrance but the stranger continued, undeterred, eagerly drinking down the thick, milky fluid.
“Mmphhh—hhn!” he stilled a keen into the vinyl as the stranger’s tongue began flicking up the back of his cock in time with each electrifying stroke. It was overwhelming, pleasure shooting from his cunt straight to his head, radiating like static to the tips of his fingers. His toes curled into the polished floor as his hips twitched involuntarily into the stranger’s mouth, and this time, the man allowed it.
He let out a soft, approving hum as Percy rutted pitifully into his mouth. That delicious sucking motion never slowed, never breaking its perfect, mind-numbing pace.
Oh, god. Percy was going to go crazy. His body wasn’t ready to cum again so soon, but the pleasure between his legs demanded it. He whined softly as his nerves fought an internal war, hands scrabbling against the vinyl as he teetered on the edge. Just as euphoria prepared to overtake him, it was pushed back by the dizzying bite of overstimulation.
The stranger seemed indifferent to his plight, his maddening cadence untouched no matter how much Percy quivered, or rutted, or mewled under his hand. He suckled at Percy’s cock as if in a trance, as if it was all he came there to do…
Oh.
Oh.
Did this man come to the club tonight with the sole intention of eating him out? His movements were far too precise to be simple curiosity. His focus far too intense to be accidental.
Percy could feel it in each perfectly timed suck, in each expertly placed lick. The stranger was sucking him off with a passion far too earnest to be anything but genuine. He swallowed down every drop of Percy’s slick so eagerly, tongue ravishing him so fervently.
“Mmm…mmphh—nnn…ff–uhhh—!” he struggled to stifle a desperate keen as the sucking intensified all at once, forcing him over the edge. His bare feet slipped on the tile floor, knees hitting the plywood with a sharp thump. The stranger held him up by his hips, never breaking contact as Percy came again in his mouth. Percy’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt his cunt flutter, spurting weakly onto the man’s waiting tongue. He could actually hear the man swallowing over the muffled cadence of sex echoing in the small room—slurping against him with a disorienting intensity that bordered on obsession.
He could feel his teeth digging into his lip as his vision returned in fits and starts. He felt drunk, the edges of his perception warped and hazy as his fingertips buzzed with residual static. HIs legs dangled limp in the man’s grip, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
The stranger released his cock with a soft pop, sucking the hypersensitive little appendage one last time. Percy shivered at the motion, but he was unable to squirm away from the overstimulation, still spread boneless across the mat. The man released his hips slowly, setting his belly carefully on the padded shelf, leaving the tops of his feet free to dangle along the polished floor.
Thumbs pressed into his puffy outer folds, now coated thoroughly with arousal. The stranger dug the pads of his fingers in for traction against the slick skin as he coaxed Percy’s entrance apart. His cunt fluttered at the attention—eager or already overwhelmed, Percy couldn’t even tell. It didn’t matter, anyway, did it? The stranger was going to have his way with Percy regardless.
The thought sparked something hot and eager in his hazy mind as his back arched weakly into the touch.
He couldn’t bring himself to be surprised when something hot and soft pressed against him rather than the satisfying stretch of a cockhead spearing him apart. The stranger’s tongue lapped against his cunt with wide, flat strokes.
Before, he’d restricted his motions to just the tip of his tongue, using a careful, targeted touch to unwind Percy like a meticulous puzzle. But now, he licked with broad, eager strokes like a dog lapping water. He pried Percy open, pressing his tongue against silky, pink flesh.
Percy whimpered low in his throat as the stranger lavished him—each pass was long and torturously thorough, staring at the head of his cock and traveling all the way down to his perineum. The man’s pace was lazy as if he were licking a popsicle on a hot summer’s day, lapping up each wayward drop of sweet syrup before it melted and dribbled onto the pavement.
“Uhh…whhh-uh—please,” he sobbed. He wasn’t supposed to talk, was he? He didn’t know what he was even asking for. Please stop? Please go faster? Please just fuck me? Please keep going forever?
True to form, the man continued, completely undeterred by his choked moans. When he brushed Percy’s outer lips, he could feel the dampness that was gathered there. The stranger’s mouth must’ve been soaked by now. Slick probably coated him from cheek to cheek, painting shimmering lines down his chin.
Percy was sure his thighs would be drenched with it, clinging in thick globs between his legs, had the stranger not so diligently swallowed every last drop.
It was such an erotic thought that he felt lightheaded at the mere idea. Luckily, the relentless sensation between his legs made it hard to do much thinking anyway.
Something soft pressed against the base of his cock, enveloping it, but not like before. His skin grew warmer all at once with humid breath as the stranger softly clamped his mouth over the entirety of Percy’s cunt.
“Ah…hhhngh—!” Percy yelped behind clenched teeth, pressing the palm of his hand back over his mouth when the moans continued to tumble out. “Mmphhh… nnngh… mmm…”
The stranger sucked at his quivering entrance, mouth latched firmly as Percy shuddered weakly under his hands. He continued to dig into the meat of Percy’s ass, prying the smaller man apart and exposing the sensitive skin at the front of his cunt. His tongue pressed and teased at the slick, vulnerable flesh—venturing a little deeper with every pass.
Percy blearily realized that he’d been mistaken before. He thought the stranger had been passionate when he’d been exploring with kitten licks and gentle suction. No, that’d been merely an appetizer, a sample of his real meal.
Breath grazed across the swell of his ass as the stranger exhaled through his nose—a contented sigh as he finally slipped his tongue into Percy’s cunt. Everything before had been building up to this moment.
Percy quivered at the unfamiliar sensation. There was no stretch like a cock, no roughness of inpatient fingers—but god, did it feel good.
The man’s tongue snaked through the narrow passage, his motions cautious—slow, but not teasing. No, he was exploring.
The tip of his tongue pressed to one side, feeling the slick skin there, feeling how it bowed and clenched against his touch. Then he moved to the other side, humming low in his throat.
“Ooh… ff-fuck–” Percy whimpered, “Ahh.. haah.. Oh my god–mmhhnng…” His perception had narrowed to nothing besides the feeling of the stranger’s soft, warm tongue pressing inside his cunt. Everything else was static. Every other thought was mush. It didn’t matter.
Finally, the point of his tongue curled up, hooking into Percy’s upper walls. He wailed into his palm as his cunt clenched desperately, slick spurting out into the stranger’s mouth as if his body were asking for more, begging despite the way his cock still quivered with overstimulation, lighting up his spine like a live wire.
The man answered his body’s pleas, massaging that spot inside him with the tip of his tongue again and again. His jaw worked up and down with the motion, lower lip pressing against Percy’s cock, pinning the little appendage in place as he focused his attention deeper.
Lick, lick, spurt, lick, the rhythm of it seeped through his hazy thoughts like molasses, saccharine and heavy. Broad hands continued to knead the swell of his ass, pushing into the sensitive skin of his upper thighs as if the stranger could stretch him open further—as if he could dive in even deeper.
Fuck, how long was this guy’s tongue? Percy thought as he felt drool smear from the corner of his parted lips onto the black vinyl below. The stranger’s tongue continued digging into that sensitive little spot, a rhythmic beckoning motion like the roll of a tide coaxing the sand to give way. His cadence was slow and passionate, but mind-numbingly thorough all at once—each curl of that sinful tongue grinding against him with a merciless pressure.
“Uhh…—mmh—hhh…ahhh…” sloppy little noises spilled unrestrained from his throat as the stranger ate him out like it was the only thing on earth that gave him pleasure. Percy’s cunt was ambrosia and he was a man starved. Each drop of slick he milked from that soft, fluttering entrance was precious nectar and he had come to drink his fill.
Percy’s entire body felt unbearably hot, hands twitching in loose fists by his shoulders as his bare feet slipped until they pressed against something hard and shrouded in cloth—the stranger’s knees.
His mind was liquid sloshing between his ears, dribbling out one drop at a time to be eagerly swallowed down. Oh god, he was going to cum again. Pressure built somewhere low in his hips like a dam about to burst—a limit reached, cracked, forced past the edge.
“Ff-fuck—!” he keened, cunt clenching hard around the stranger’s tongue as he squirted, clear fluid gushing into the stranger’s mouth in little uneven spurts. The man hummed lowly against him, working a little lower between Percy’s spasming legs as he endeavored to catch every drop.
“Uhh…holy shssuhhhhhh…” Percy’s swears peetered off back into sloppy moans and desperate sobs as the stranger’s motions never ceased. His tongue backed out to the shallowest past of Percy’s cunt, but his mouth stayed relentless, sucking gently every patch of soft, silky skin he could reach.
“Holy hell, dude,” an unfamiliar voice sounded behind him, but Percy felt like he was hearing it from underwater. “You’re still going at it?”
In place of an answer, the stranger nodded minutely against him, mouth staying securely latched on Percy’s poor, overstimulated cunt.
“Damn, when you said you were planning to eat this guy out all night, I thought you were exaggerating.” Another set of footsteps paused behind Percy and he realized distantly that they were accruing an audience.
Percy whimpered, legs twitching together only to be held in place by man’s thumbs still hooked around his inner thighs, unyielding as steel. The stranger wasn’t about to let his precious meal hide from him so easily, spectators be damned.
He wailed as the stranger’s tongue swirled around his cock, flicking it lightly back and forth. The sensation shot straight through his gut like electricity, jolting up his spine and whiting out his vision.
“Ahh–! Please!, pl–uhhw–uhh…mmmh-uh…” he mewled, the sound more animal than human as the stranger lazily mouthed at his little cock—sucking and stroking and twirling and licking. He wasn’t exploring anymore, he was playing, like Percy was nothing more than a toy for him to taste and tease as he pleased.
Though…that was the truth, wasn’t it? Percy was stuck here, strapped in the wall, reduced to just ass and cock and dribbling desperate little cunt. He panted shallowly, breath hitching at the idea. Maybe…being a toy wasn’t so bad.
The line of pain and pleasure blurred into a thick, delicious slurry that flooded through his limbs, replacing every other sensation. Was he cumming again? Maybe—he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter anymore, not to Percy and certainly not to the stranger between his legs.
His touches grew softer, assertive strokes and licks trailing off into plush, open mouthed kisses. A wet, smacking sound accompanied the press of his lips, slow and hungry.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” another voice sounded, or maybe the same voice. “Those sounds he’s making are fucking crazy. Wish my bitch sounded like that.”
Sounds? What sounds was he making? Percy could feel his throat buzzing lightly, but the sensation was swallowed by hot static and the stranger’s lips working his trembling cunt, each press ending with a small, juicy pop.
“Ah–mmmhh—uhh…hahh-ah…” he panted, back arching into each perfect, wet kiss. “Mmm—ffuhhh-…uhhh–!” The suction intensified, tugging his puffy folds up between careful lips before the stranger dove back in to repeat the motion. “Ooh–! Oh, god, shit–! Shh-shu—uhhh…mmmph–!”
He hiccuped and whimpered deliriously, every breathy little moan a sound of sheer desperation as the stranger’s head began to bob with the motion, sucking his cunt hard and tugging it back and forth gently like a dog with a toy.
Percy bucked into his mouth with clipped, broken little twitches. It was too much—too much, too much. His breath caught in his throat as he choked on a sob, but his hips pressed into the stranger’s mouth as if possessed. It was paradoxical—every nerve forced past the brink but his body still craved more. Percy couldn’t process it, couldn’t begin to name the all-encompassing heat in his gut or the static behind his eyes.
He was going crazy. God, he was actually going crazy. This stranger was unraveling him one masterfully placed lick at a time, and Percy was helpless to stop it. All he could do was cry and moan and drip, drip, drip into that blissful, perfect mouth.
“Yyou–uh-uhwwh…mmm,” He tried to speak, his voice quivering and punctuated by breathy whimpers. “You-you’re…Mmm goin’ fucking crazy. Ooh–! Oh, god, I–I can’t, I ck-uhhh–! Mm…mmmhhh…hahhh…ahhh—”
His shaky attempt at intelligible language dissolved as if on command as the stranger’s tongue lashed against his cock. It felt like a warning, a quick flick right, left, right again as if to say “shhh, behave.”
Percy’s body obeyed, going boneless again in the man’s iron grip still latched around his thighs. The stranger hummed against him—pleased, and continued sucking at his cunt with those slow, maddening kisses.
“Mm–uh…mmm…mmm,” he moaned weakly. Fingers kneaded into the flesh of his inner thighs almost apologetically before they repositioned, one thumb pressing into his outer lips, prying it crookidly to the side.
The stranger’s mouth dropped lower, angled up between Percy’s legs as he focused his attention back on his little cock, already reddened and puffy, shuddering with anticipation.
Lips closed gently around him, tongue drawling lazy circles over his clit. Percy’s hips rutted into the touch even as he let out a strangled cry.
“Ah! Ff-ffuhh… nnhg,” he clenched his teeth hard, cutting off his own swear mid-word and was rewarded by a delicate little suck.
His cunt clenched at the silent praise, forcing out a few thick globs of slick that smeared across his spread folds. Good toys didn’t talk, Percy thought drunkenly. Good, good, good…
The stranger’s mouth made him feel so good. His tongue traced careful shapes on Percy’s clit, each little motion impossibly amplified by his overstimulated nerves. His lips massaged the shaft of Percy’s little cock with perfect pressure, press, stroke, release, press, stroke…
Something firm pressed at his exposed folds, gently tracing the front of his entrance with a sort of reverence. A finger, Percy realized. The stranger traced the inner edge of his cunt—up one side slowly, back down again, repeated, as his mouth continued to work Percy’s cock, not breaking that heady, mind-numbing cadence.
“Aah–” he gasped, breathy and satisfied as the stranger’s finger slipped inside. A single finger had never felt so pleasurable. His face flushed dark as he realized that he nearly came from the sensation of it entering him. A single finger.
The man thrust in and out—once, twice, a third time. His lips slowed to match the languid cadence. In—and out…in—and out…
Percy met each lazy thrust, bare feet digging into the polished floor as he pushed his hips back in time with the stranger’s pace. The belt snug around his waist and the other broad hand still clamped around his thigh didn’t give him much room to move, but he didn’t care. He tried anyway, struggling and straining to press that finger just a little deeper.
“M-mmh… o-ohh… pl-ple–uh–! Please…” he whined mindlessly as the stranger’s finger stilled, burying his cunt to the knuckle and stopping.
“Nngh—!” he yelped, sharp and pitchy as the man sucked hard on his cock for a few sustained seconds, sending an overwhelming jolt up his spine before he relented.
“Mm-uh-hh..” Percy whimpered weakly, thighs tensing in response to the onslaught before falling limp all at once like a marionette with its strings cut.
Then, the finger in his cunt was moving again. Not thrusting this time, but wagging side to side, pushing Percy’s slick walls apart as he began lapping at the trapped boy’s cock as if it were a lollipop.
Neither motion was quite fast enough or vigorous enough to force another orgasm for him, but it was more than enough to keep him quivering and desperate—resentlessly stimulating his oversensitive nerves without respite.
It was a motion designed to unwind him, to keep him teetering on the precarious edge of too much and not enough. It was torture—calculcated, merciless, overpowering… intoxicating, and mind-numbingly euphoric.
It was amazing.
“Ahhhah–…m-mm… “ he giggled drunkenly, the sound petering off into a closed-mouth moan. A second blissful finger slipped in alongside the first, stroking lazy side-to-side arcs as Percy’s cunt fluttered around the intrusion.
The stranger’s fingers were far broader than Percy’s, a little calloused on the tip but so satisfyingly thick. Percy’s body accepted them eagerly, back arching, presenting himself like an animal in heat as the stranger began to scissor inside of him.
“Gghk–uh,” he choked as he clenched instinctively against the motion, only amplifying if in the process. It felt like the stranger was pressing directly on nerve endings, each soft prod lighting him up more than any cock ever had.
A low vibration, steady and pleased, rumbled from the stranger’s chest, the sensation shooting straight to Percy’s cock as he pressed his face closer. A sucked the little appendage a few times, releasing it with a soft pop each time he forced a whimper from Percy’s lips before diving back in.
Time seemed to melt into a meaningless slurry, his perception warping and twisting around those delicious fingers as they worked him open slowly, around that sinful mouth as it teased his cock. The stranger broke away every so often to lap up whatever arousal had dribbled out around his fingers, each drop a careful earned reward–sweet and satisfying.
The smell of Percy’s arousal hung in the warm air—heady with musk. The intensity of it would’ve embarrassed him had he had the wherewithal to feel anything beyond the stranger’s touch.
All of a sudden, his lazy ministrations shifted. The fingers in his cunt rotated slowly before they curled sharply into the same sensitive spot the stranger had assaulted with his tongue prior. He kneaded it with his fingertips, massaging the spongy tissue with a firm, deliberate touch that had Percy’s vision splintering.
“Ooh–!” he gasped, the sound pitchy and sharp. “Ah-hahh… o-oh… yes, yes— d-don’t-don’t stop…Aah–!”
The stranger’s tongue came down on his cock, staring at the top and traveling all the way to the front of his cunt where it began to stretch. He lapped at Percy vigorously, abandoning his soft, teasing motions as he bore down on that sensitive spot with both fingertips. Percy screeched, previously limp body coming to life all at once as if he’d touched a live-wire.
“Fuck–ff-fuh-uh–! Oh, shh–uh-uhh…” he sobbed, hands scrambling against the vinyl as he tried to escape the overstimulation, but it was no use. His thighs quivered helplessly, eyes rolling into the back of his head. He heard the sound before he felt it—a loud wet squelching followed by the sensation of warm fluid leaking down his thighs. Slick gushed from his reddened, quivering cunt around the stranger’s fingers, squirting into his waiting mouth before it overflowed across his cheeks, leaking down Percy’s legs onto the polished tile below.
He could feel it pooling under his toes, making it even harder for his already weak limbs to find traction. But the stranger wasn’t satisfied—not yet.
He backed off for just a moment—allowing Percy’s body to fall boneless, chest heaving as he panted for air—before he resumed, hooking his fingers back into that sensitive little bundle of nerves in Percy’s upper walls before his cunt had even stopped quivering.
No, I can’t! I can’t cum again! He wanted to say, but all that came out was “Nnn–uuh–! Mmmh-uh… a-ah–ah–”
Good toys didn’t talk, a little voice in the back of his head reminded him as his complaint died in his throat. Right, he thought drunkenly, hips pressing against the stranger's tongue as it lashed at his cock, each lick shooting straight up his spine with a jolt of hot pleasure.
Squelch, squelch, squelch, echoed through the space as the man’s fingers curled and uncurled in a sharp, demanding cadence. How was he still so wet when the stranger had spent so long sucking every last drop of slick from him?
It was like he knew exactly where to press and lick to coax Percy’s body to drip more, more, more. And no matter how fucked out he felt, Percy traitorous little cunt seemed happy to obey.
It wasn’t really his anymore, was it? No—not with the way that tongue swirled around his reddened little cock, not with the way those fingers moved inside of him, forcing him to gush yet again with a desperate little whine. This stranger owned his cunt, asserting his claim with each and every drop of arousal that slid down his throat.
He could feel his belly shaking as the stranger’s motions grew rougher, fingers raking through him, demanding more with a rhythmic insistence that left Percy’s body no option to resist. He squealed as the man began to suck his cock again in short, aggressive strokes—sucking hard on the little appendage.
Euphoria coursed through him, a sharp and sudden lightning bolt, electrifying his veins, sparking fire under his skin, leaving his mind spinning in delicious chaos. Instead of cresting like a wave, it kept going, new bursts of pleasure sparking up his spine with every press of the stranger’s mouth. Those strong, thick fingers kept curling inside of him, jerking his hips up and down, forcing his cunt to keep gushing, to keep coming, coming, coming.
Percy choked over wet, broken moans, limbs shuddering violently, every muscle somehow clenched tight and helplessly slack all at once. How was it possible for his body to feel this good? It surpassed description, surpassed comprehension. It felt like his mind was shattering with the intensity of it, not in slow increments like cracks forming in concrete, but all at once like a pane of glass shattering in a hurricane over, and over, and over, and over…
He felt so…so… so good.
His cunt fluttered pathetically around the stranger's fingers, trying to draw him closer, to hold him there forever so he could continue abusing that delicious little spot that commanded his body to drip and gush with an efficiency that bordered on mechanical. A perfect little button in a perfect little toy.
Slick coated the balls of his feet as he struggled to rut his hips into the stranger's touch. The man hummed in approval, rewarding him by lashing his tongue against the head of Percy’s cock.
“Ghhk–guh—uuh… ‘s good–mmphf–” the words slipped out before he bit them off, rolling his cheek into the spit soaked vinyl. Good toys don’t talk.
The stranger didn’t punish him that time, he just continued licking and stroking undeterred, like he had all the time in the world and all the intent to spend it between Percy’s legs. Orgasms bled together in a haze of moist heat and broken moans. The man’s mouth never ventured far from Percy’s spent dripping cunt as the night hours ticked on.
At one point, the dim lights seemed to grow darker, fog creeping in at the edges of his vision like a stormfront closing in. He awoke to a familiar tongue thrusting in and out of his cunt with no way to tell how much time had passed.
Finally, he blinked up at overhead fluorescents slowly coming to life and silence—gone was the chatter of patrons, the moans of the other performers, and—most glaringly of all—the stranger’s touch between his legs.
Instead, what he found pushed through the narrow slot around his hips was a hundred dollar bill folded over twice and a blank white business card with a phone number written on it in blue ink. He flipped it over, brows furrowing as he read the handwritten text—
”Thanks for the meal.”