This story is fiction, a figment of my warped imagination. Should the characters in this story even remotely bare similarities to any real person, living or dead, it was purely accidental and any such similarities are strictly coincidences. This story deals with mature subject matter and involves intimate gay sex. If it is illegal for you to read such material, due to your age or location, then please don't. If you are offended by acts of homosexuality between consenting and non-consenting adults, then Do Not Read this story. The author does not necessarily condone or subscribe to the behavior discussed in this story. It was written strictly as a form of entertainment and acts described should not be attempted by anyone that does not know what the hell they are doing. A Daymare on Kelly Street. By Rob My name is Harold. I am 19 years old and gay. I live in a small two room flat on Duke St. in Toronto, Ontario Canada. I am 6' 2" and weigh in at 160 lbs. I am not exactly what you might call Mr. Atlas, but I don't really look all that bad considering I am underweight. On second thought I guess their ain't a chance in hell that anyone would call me Mr. Atlas. I am a very submissive type and do not have a lot of friends or acquaintances. I have never had a real life sexual encounter with another male, but fantasize about it all the time. My most cherished dream is of setting up house with a dominate male partner. With me doing the housework, the cooking and the laundry. Looking after my man's every need and want. But of course it is just a dream. No one is very interested in a guy like me. Most Saturday afternoons, for something to do and to get myself out from the lonely four walls of my flat, I like to go for a long walk. I will walk for hours on end. I love the hustle and bustle of people going about the chores of living. Last Saturday I left my flat and walked east along Bloor St. At Spadina Ave. I headed south. I walked all the way down to Lakeshore, stopping for a few minutes to watch the pigeons on the bridge across the train tracks. I turned west and followed Lakeshore to the Princess Gate at the Canadian National Exibition (CNE) grounds. I decided to sit for a few moments and rest. Looking down towards the waterfront a few people had gathered at the base of the Lancaster Bomber memorial while others just strolled along the walk way. I rested for about ten minutes, then got up and headed into the CNE grounds. As usual on a warm, summer Saturday afternoon there were plenty of people strolling through the grounds. I made my way over to Dufferin Street and exited the grounds under the arch of the Dufferin Gate. I walked up to Queen Street and turned right, heading east. I hadn't gone very far when I came to a small street that I had never seen before. The sign said, Kelly Street. But there had never been a Kelly Street there before. I looked down the Street but it looked just as old and dilapidated as all the other streets in the area. Well my curiosity was up and I just had to see what was down there. So I turned right and began to stroll down Kelly Street. Well Kelly Street didn't look any different then the hundreds of other streets in Toronto, however Kelly Street was a dead end street. It was a very short street and consisted of your typical conglomeration of attached single family homes. The kind you will find on just about every street in downtown Toronto. I was about to turn around a leave when I noticed a little sign hanging from the side of one of the houses. I walked over to get a better look. It read: COLD DRINKS GOOD FRIENDS GREAT CONVERSATION Below the G of Great, there was an arrow pointing down. My curiosity was really on fire now. I followed the direction of the arrow and went down a short flight of stairs, at the bottom of which I found a door with a little sign that said, "Cummon in." I turned the door knob and opened the door. The interior was dark and hazy after the bright rays of the afternoon sun. A rush of cool, sweet smelling air pushed against me trying to get out as I went in. Not the smell of your typical bar or restaurant. I noticed right away the absence of the smell of tobacco smoke. Once inside I closed the door. My eyes soon adjusted to the darkened interior and I could make out tables with men seated drinking beer. There was a bar against the far wall and I decided that I might as well have a drink, it had been rather warm outside and I was a bit thirsty. I walked over to the bar and sat on a stool. An elderly man got up from one of the tables near the end of the bar, went behind and came up to ask what I would like. "Could I have a cold coke please?", I responded to his, "What'll it be?" "A what!", he practically yelled at me. The low hum of conversation in the room instantly died. The room filled with a silence so loud I could hear my heart begin to pound in my chest. My face turned red and I tried to stammer out my request again. "Ah.. a.. a.. ah.. a.. a.. coke ... please." The man broke into a fit of laughter. He laughed so hard tears began to fall down his cheeks. Every eye in the room was on me. I began shaking. I felt so centred out. I got up off the stool on shaky legs and muttered, "uh sorry sir, never mind .... ah .. I'll .... ah ... go somewhere else." I hadn't taken three steps when he yelled. "And just where the hell do ya think yer going punk? Ya ordered a fucking drink and are now trying to stiff me." "Pete get the door," he yelled. "Pat, Larry watch this little prick doesn't try getting out of here." A young guy, about my age and built like the proverbial brick shit house got up right away and headed for the door. Two other young guys that could easily pass for Mr. Muscle headed over and grabbed my by the arms. The old guy rushed down to the end of the bar, out and around heading straight for me. This was all happening in a split second. I didn't have time to react or to even know what the hell was going on. I suddenly became terrified. Two big bruisers were holding me none to gently and this crazy old man was rushing at me, his face all red and frothing at the mouth. He rushed up and pushed his red face right up close to mine. "Trying to stick me fer the cost of a drink, huh punk," he yelled. Spittle spraying all over my face. I opened my mouth to protest but his hand came up like lightning and slapped me. "Keep yer fucking mouth shut when ya talk to me boy.", he screamed again, spraying more spittle in my face. By now I was a shaking, quivering mess. If the two bruisers had let go I would have fallen to the floor. In my state I would not have been able to support my own weight. I began to cry uncontrollably. "Cryin' ain't gonna do ya any fucking good prick." he yelled again. "I gonna call the cops and have ya arrested for failing to pay a bar bill. That's a serious offence. Even one o' the weak kneed judges would give ya at least 2 years." "How ya gonna like that punk. 2 years in jail, all those horny guys is gonna make mincemeat out'a yer ass.", he spat that at me and began laughing. "Please I didn't...." "Thwack". A hand across my face cut that little plea short. "I fucking told ya to keep yer gob shut when ya talk to me boy.", he spit again. "Take him over to the table and sit him down boys," he ordered. The two bruisers dragged me over to a chair and plopped me down. They each pulled up a chair on either side of me. The old guy walked around to the other side of the table, pulled up a chair and sat down. "Harry," he called. "Bring me and the boys a beer." He sat there just staring at me while he waited for his beer. A young man with a limp hobbled over carrying a tray with four tall, frosty glasses of beer. He placed one in front of each of us. "I think we should look at this whole thing in a cool, calm and collected way. I ain't gonna make no rash decisions here. So drink up while we talk about your attempt to rob my establishment." I wanted to protest. I wanted to tell them I never drank alcohol and didn't want too. I wanted to protest his use of the word, "rob". I hadn't attempted to rob him or do anything illegal for that matter. But the guy had me scared shitless. So with a shaking hand I reached out and picked up the beer. My hand was shaking so badly that I am surprised I didn't spill it all over the place as I brought it to my lips. I took a tentative sip, the bitter, effervescent liquid was cold and felt good in my dry mouth. I didn't much like the taste but really didn't have much choice in the matter. The old guy and the two lads on either side of me drained half their glasses on the first mouthful. "What-sa-matter punk, ya don't like my hospitality.", he sneered. "Take a man's size drink o' that beer boy." Terrified of what would happen if I refused I picked the glass up again and let it start pouring down my throat. When I figured I had drunk enough to satisfy him I placed the glass back on the table. "That's better punk. Now tell me why ya tried to rob me. Ya can open yer mouth this time." "I didn't try to rob you sir, I swear I didn't. I just thought I had made a mistake and you didn't serve coke here." The old guy's steely black eyes bore right into me. "Now tell me boys have ya ever heard such a cock and bull story in yer lives afore?", he asked no one in particular. The young guy on my right answered. "No Charlie, never heard anything like it in my life." A big smile crossed his face when I looked at him. A murmur of agreement went around the room. "Have another drink punk," Charlie commanded as he lifted his own glass and drained it. The effect of the first half glass was starting to work through my system. I had a strange feeling around my lips and a warm glow in my stomach. Unable to do anything else I lifted the glass and drained it. That must have been the right thing to do, because Charlie gave me a big smile. "Another round Harry," he called out. "Well now punk I think I am beginning to take a liking to ya. Yer a faggot aren't ya boy?" The suddenness of that question left me tongue tied for a few moments. "Ah .... I am gay, yes Sir," I replied self-consciously. "No yer not fucking gay, yer a fucking faggot now admit it punk.", he yelled again. His sudden changes of mood were scaring me even more. "I'm a faggot Sir," I said through lips which were fast becoming very numb. "Ah that's better," he said. "See all ya gotta do is tell the truth. Now in some bars if ya were to admit that ya was a faggot they would kick the shit out a ya in a flash. But not here, boy. No sirree bob, not here. We is civilized people here. We believe in live and let live, don't we boys?" Everyone in the room answered, "Yes Charlie". "See, we are a friendly bunch. Now about this little robbery thing. Ya know boy......., by the way what is yer name kid?" "Harold, Sir," I replied. Harry arrived back with another round of beer and placed a glass in front of us all. Charlie picked his glass up right away and took a healthy swig. I figured if I wanted to stay in his good books I better follow suit. I picked up the glass and drank a good quarter of the beer, which I thought tasted much better than before. "Now as I was saying. We are starting to take a liking to ya Harold. There may be a way for ya to show how sorry ya are for trying to skip out on me." "Ya would like to make amends wouldn't ya?" "Ah.... yes Sir, Mr. Charlie Sir, I sure would, Sir.", I blubbered. I was having a wee bit of a problem focusing on him. "There I knew I was right ya are a good, honest lad after all. Have another drink there Harold." I lifted the glass and took another slug. The glass was now down to the halfway mark. "Well, Harold why don't ya remove your shirt. It is awfully warm in here and besides I think the guys would really like to see yer manly chest. We don't get many lads like ya here." Now the beer was starting to hit me pretty hard, but not that hard. I had an inkling of what was going to happen here. But I was still terrified of this guy and all these other guys that were letting him get away with doing this to me. So without fanfare or argument I started unbuttoning my shirt. As I undone each button the guys in the room began shouting cat calls. "Show us some tit there honey." "Woohoo virgin skin." "Take it off, take it off." "Ain't she sweet." On top of that there were lots of wolf whistles. I had never felt so embarrassed in my life. Luckily I had drunk that beer which seemed to make it easier to get this thing over with. Once the buttons were all undone I shucked out of the shirt. I was holding it in my hand wondering where to put it, when the guy on my right grabbed it out of my hand. I went to take it back but he gave it a heave and it went flying across the room. A tall man of about 25 or 30 caught it and smiled. "Now don't that make ya feel more comfortable Harold?", Charlie asked. What else could I say but, "Yes Charlie, much more comfortable." "Why don't 'cha chug-a-lug the rest a yer beer there Harold," Charlie posed this as a request but I knew it was an order. I picked up the glass and drank the rest of the beer down. Everyone in the room gave me a round of applause. Then I was blinded by a flash bulb. Someone had just taken my picture. I placed the glass back on the table. "Harold me boy ya know what would really let us know that you are sorry for trying to rob me?", he asked. There was no use playing stupid. I knew what they wanted and I also knew they were going to get it with or without my cooperation. I figured I had a better chance of getting out of this bar in one piece if I just cooperated to the best of my ability. "If I were to remove my pants, Mr. Charlie?" "Why Harold, would you do that little thing for your friends?" "Yes Sir I will Sir." "Why not get up here on the table so everyone can see Harold. That's a good boy." With no choices open, I climbed up onto the table. The beer had gone to my head and I was having just a little trouble standing straight. I undid my belt and then the waist button of my jeans. Then I slid the zipper down. I was just about to slide my jeans down when I remembered my underpants. Oh shit, my fucking underpants were white with little red kissy lips all over them. I liked things like that and bought all kinds of silly underwear. The guys took my hesitation as a tease and began cat calling and wolf whistling again. The blood began to pump like mad into my face. It suddenly got very, very hot. This was going to be a devastating embarrassment. But I had no choice, my pants were going to come down one way or another and I would much prefer I do it myself. So I bit the bullet and started sliding them down. As soon as those cute little white underpants became visible the room went instantly quiet. I think they were all stunned. That only lasted an instant though because when they realized what they were looking at they went absolutely crazy. There were screams of laughter, hooting, whistling, shouting. I paid no attention and concentrated on trying to get the fucking jeans off. The beer had made it impossible for me to balance on one leg. My jeans although not skin tight are not baggy either. Getting my feet out of the pant leg was causing me a great deal of difficulty. Finally I gave up trying to do it standing up and sat down on the table. As soon as I was down rough hands grabbed the cuff of the jeans and pulled. The next thing I knew my jeans were flying towards the back of the bar. "Is that ok Mr. Charlie?" I asked quietly. "Very nice of you Harold, but why not stand up and model those great looking undies for us. I am sure everyone would like to see the latest style in men's underwear. Did your mommy buy'em for ya?" Reluctantly I got back up on my feet and let them have a good look. Then I was blinded by a flashbulb again. I wish whoever was taking my picture would stop. They started calling out poses for me to take. I did my best to comply and each time the camera snapped my picture. "Ah.. Harold," Charlie called to me. "Yes Sir," I replied. "The boys would really be happy if you would remove those silly looking underpants. I mean they really are dumb you know. Why not just slip them off then you won't feel quite so stupid." I knew this was coming and had already decided it would be useless to protest. I hooked my thumbs in the waist band and pushed down. As the underwear passed over my cock it began to rise. I wanted to stop and pull the underwear back up but knew I would never get away with it. I pushed them all the way down to my feet. I had no problem stepping out of them. Charlie grabbed them right away. "Harold, do you think it would be alright if I kept these as a kind of reminder of what a great sport you are?", Charlie asked. "Yes Charlie you may keep them.", I said. The fucking camera was taking pictures of me standing naked on the top the of table. My dick had risen and was almost fully erect. I was finding this whole scene rather erotic while at the same time feeling total humiliation. "Ah Harold," Charlie called again. "Pat would like to touch your ass and cock. You don't mind if he does that do you?" Oh shit I thought how much further are they going to take this. I wanted to go home to my lovely, quiet, lonely little flat. I had never appreciated it before, now all I could think of was being back there with the door locked. I wasn't given a chance to give my approval. Pat turned out to be the bruiser that had been sitting on my left. He got up right away and made his way around until he was standing behind me. I felt his warm hands grasp my hips and pull me back slightly. He placed both hands flat on my ass cheeks and began to move them gently up and down my ass. I may have been feeling humiliated but Pat's hands felt wonderful and my cock really hardened up. Long silver threads of precum began to drip out and down to the table. The camera was still flashing away. Pat continued to rub my ass with one hand while the other slipped up between my legs and began to massage my balls. A moan of pleasure escaped from my lips. While he continued to massage my nuts his other hand slid over the hot skin of my waist and made it's way around to my front. He gently grasped my throbbing dick and began a slow wank. The camera snapped away. "Harold," Charlie's call penetrated like a kind of echo from far away, getting louder as it cut a path through the rainbow of colours, passing steadily before my eyes, as I swayed in ecstasy. "Harold, come down off the table. Pat will help you. Larry would like you to give him a good blow job. A good faggot like should be able to give a good blowjob." I could hear what he was saying but really didn't pay much attention. Pat and Larry I presume helped me down. Larry turned out to be the guy that had been sitting on my right. They lay me flat on my back across the table. Larry made his way to my head which was hanging over the edge. When he got to me, he undid his zipper and pulled out a cock that had to be 8 inches long and was uncut. It was hard and had a smear of precum on the head. He brought it up to my face and pressed it to my lips. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue to take my first lick at a cock. The scent of male musk hit my nostrils and caused all kinds of new sensations to go charging through my already over excited young body. After licking that big purple head for a few minutes I stuck my tongue up and under his foreskin, working my tongue back and forth. He let out a loud moan which let me know I must be doing it right. Unable to hold off any longer I opened my mouth wide and took the whole head of Larry's cock into my mouth. I cannot describe in words how wonderful it felt to finally have a real, live cock in my mouth. I had wanted this for so long. Had dreamed about it. Now here in this crazy bar on a street that did not exist a week ago, a real live cock was fucking my virgin mouth. As I worked away on that cock I felt fingers playing with my ass hole. As well a hand was slowly wanking my dick. The fingers began by massaging and rubbing all around the outside of my rosebud. I felt something cold hit my bud. The finger rubbed it around. Then without warning the finger was gently pushed in. It was a bit uncomfortable at first but I soon became used to the feel of it. It moved in and out, around and around, then a second finger was pushed in. This one caused a little bit of pain as it went in, but the other feelings were so wonderful that the pain was soon just a forgotten memory. A third finger soon joined the other two. Again there was a momentary shot of pain but it soon receded. The fingers worked away stretching my hole and I knew why. Someone was going to fuck my ass. The sensations I was feeling had me so turned on I really didn't give a shit. I just wanted all these great feelings to go on forever. Larry's cock was almost sliding all the way down my throat now. I had got over the gag reflex and had learned how to breath through my nose. It all seemed to come so natural. I thought I was going to have to have someone teach me all these things. But hot damn I was doing alright on my own. The moment of truth had finally arrived. A pair of strong arms lifted my legs up off the table and spread them. I felt a warm body move in between my legs. Then I felt the cock head against my sphincter. The cock gave a little push and the head slipped right in. I could feel it there, resting inside my ass. It felt so good I wanted to scream. But the cock in my mouth muffled the sounds and Larry gave a moan of pleasure from the vibrations. The cock head in my ass began to push in further. It was a bit uncomfortable at first but there was no pain. Whoever was fucking me knew what they were doing. He went in a little then backed out, went in a little more and backed out. He kept doing this until I felt his balls against my ass cheeks. He rested for just a second, brought my legs back until they were resting against his shoulders. He then began a slow, rhythmic fuck of my ass. On his third thrust in he hit something in my ass chute that sent the most wonderful feelings through my body. I let out another loud moan which again was muffled by Larry's cock. My fucker was now hitting that spot on every "in" thrust and was driving me crazy. I had never in my life felt anything that felt that good. Later I realized that he was rubbing against my prostate. I had read that the prostate could give a wonderful feeling when rubbed but could never have imagined that it would feel this good. I was enjoying those wonderful sensations moving through my innards when the cock in my mouth delivered a surprise. Larry screamed, "Oh fuck I'm cumming." My mouth began to fill with his hot seed. I had never really tasted cum before. Oh I had made a tentative taste of my own once when I masturbated. But this was a full load pumped directly into my mouth and throat. The taste was a bit bitter or acrid while at the same time being sweet. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not, but didn't have time to ponder the question. Larry was pumping the stuff into me by the gallon. My throat muscles were having a hell of a job trying to keep up with it and finally failed. As I swallowed what seemed like gallons, the excess was squirting out around my lips and Larry's thrusting cock. I guess the sight of Larry's sperm shooting out around the cock and my lips sent the guy fucking my ass over the top. He gave a yell and I felt his hot juice pumping into my ass. He was still hitting my prostate and it was enough to start me unloading my own load. Whoever was wanking me picked up the pace once I had started squirting. So I had cum squirting in my mouth, cum squirting up my ass and cum squirting out my cock. For my first fuck it was fantastic. I wondered, just for a second, if these guys realized that I had been a virgin when I entered this bar. When Larry pulled his dick out of my mouth I looked up just in time to see Pat pull away from my ass. Well at least my cherries had been takin' by two great studs. "Well now Harold," Charlie said. "That was quite the show. I think you need another beer. Sit up boy." I sat up and he handed me another beer. I really didn't want it, I would rather of had a cold coke. I couldn't refuse the beer because I knew it would just start a whole new round of abuse. I brought the glass to my lips and took a long drink. I guess this stuff grows on you because it really tasted great. Unless of course it was just that it tasted better when mixed with the left over taste of cum. I sat for a minute and took another long drink. This one tasted even better than the first. I noticed Charlie looking at me. "Developing a taste for the grog I see boy. Glad ta see ya swilling it like a man, even if ya are a fucking faggot." He gave a hearty laugh and slapped my bare leg. "Have ya ever had a fuck as good as that one boy?" he inquired. "Well ah... no Sir Mr. Charlie Sir. This was the first time I have ever been fucked. I was a virgin.", I said sheepishly. "Did ya hear that boys. Young Harold here was a virgin. There ya go Pat ya got ta take the boys cherry. Now don't that make ya feel grand.", and he laughed heartily. My face of course turned red again. "Now what about Larry's dick. That is one handsome tool. Have ya seen many biggerin' it?" he asked again. "Well no Sir, I have never seen another man's dick that close before. Only in shower's and stuff at school and the gym. Never seen one hard before." "Well, well, well. Larry," he yelled. "Did ya hear what the boy just said, ya got a cherry mouth. Shit you boys got all the luck today." "Well he did a pretty damned good job for someone that claims he ain't never sucked before. I know professionals that can't do it that well.", he hollered back. I just took another long haul from my beer and wished the hell they would let me go. This had turned out pretty good, but now I just wanted to go home. I lifted the glass to my lips again finished off the rest of my beer. "Mr. Charlie, Sir," I asked politely, "May I have my clothes now and go home." "What! Go home, why Harold the party is just beginning and you are the guest of honour. We want to show you how glad we are to have met your acquaintance and become your friends. Don't we boys?" A hearty, "Here, Here.", filled the room. A young lad that had been sitting quietly at the table just across the way made his way over. He went to the bottom of the table got between my legs and started licking my flaccid dick. "There see, what did I tell you. The boys really appreciate you Harold. Just relax and enjoy yourself. I had drunk that beer to fast and my head was beginning to spin a bit, so I lay back down. I hadn't been there more than a second when a big, fat cock was presented to my lips. What the hell I thought, if I gotta stay I might as well enjoy myself. I opened my lips and stuck my tongue out. That fat cock gave a little jump for joy when my hot tongue touched it. The boy down between my legs had my dick up and hard. He had moved down and was sucking on one of my balls. I had never even imagined someone doing that to me. It felt wonderful. He suddenly pulled off my dick leaving it waving in the cool air of the bar. I wanted that warm mouth back. Well a warm mouth did go back on but it wasn't the same one. I am not sure how I knew but I did, I guess it was the technique. This new mouth wasn't quite as good as the one of the kid. It didn't take long before I knew why the kid had pulled off my cock. The head of his dick was massaging my rose bud. The kid was about to give me my second fuck. His dick was much fatter then Pat's had been. He pushed the head in slowly and I felt my sphincter open wide. It was a bit uncomfortable, but soon adjusted. The kid then pushed in a little deeper and a terrible pain ripped through my intestines. I didn't have that cock in my mouth yet so the scream of pain rattled through the bar. The room began deadly silent and my scream seemed to bounce from wall to wall. The shaft of the kids dick must have been huge. It hurt all the way in and for the first few strokes. I didn't think my chute was ever going to adjust to his size. But once it did, the kid gave me a sensational fuck. He really knew how to work his cock in an asspussy. By now I had the other cock all the way down my throat. The guy was doing all the work fucking my face. All I had to do was lick around that huge shaft and the big purple head as it moved in and out. The kid was humping my ass pretty wildly now. He was really turned on, as was I. I kept trying to bring my ass up to meet his inward strokes. Whoever was wanking my dick had also picked up the pace and I was on the edge of unloading my nuts. The kid was the first to start unloading. I felt his hot seed hitting the inner walls of my bowel. That was enough to take me over the top and I began squirting. The guy with his cock down my throat took a few seconds longer before he started to unload his hot sweet cum down my eager throat. Yes I said sweet. His cum tasted completely different from Larry's. I had thought all cum would taste the same. I really liked this one and did my best to catch it all. Once everyone was sated the cocks were pulled out, only to be replaced by another set. I didn't even have time to see who was next. This sucking and fucking went on for the rest of the afternoon. There were about 20 guys in that bar and I am sure I sucked all of them and all of them fucked my ass. I was feeling really tired and felt that I had had enough cock to last me for a life time. I really wanted to go home. They say you can get too much of a good thing and that had certainly happened this afternoon. My mouth and ass were both sore, not to mention my poor dick which felt raw from all the wanking. Charlie finally called a halt to the proceedings. He forced me to drink another beer. My bladder was near to bursting but he insisted that I drink the beer first. Once the beer was in me, Charlie had Larry lead me, still naked, to the Men's room. Once in the Men's room I headed for a stall and sat down. Larry held the door open and watched. My bladder let go the moment I sat down and I felt the wonderful contentment that only comes from emptying a full bladder. Before my bladder had fully emptied, I gave a mighty farht and felt water escape from my ass. The cum! My ass chute was full of cum and it was now squirting out. I concentrated on having a shit and more of the cum shot out of my sore ass. When my bladder was finally empty and I couldn't get any more cum to shoot out I wiped myself clean, got up and flushed. Larry followed me all the way back to the table, never once in all that time saying a single word. I sat down in the chair I had originally been placed in. Pat and Larry took up their places on either side of me. "Are ya feelin' better Harold," Charlie asked solicitously. "Yes, thank you Mr. Charlie. May I get dressed an go home now. I am very tired Sir.", I asked meekly. "Oh your just hungry, Harold. After all it is supper time. You will feel great after you have had a nice dinner. Harry has been busy working his little fingers off preparing I nice meal for you." For some reason I didn't like the sound of that, but knew it would be useless to argue. "Thank you Mr. Charlie," I responded. He gave me a big smile and handed me another beer. Oh what I wouldn't give for a coke right about now. But it would seem my wants and desires took last place to Charlie's. I took the beer, lifted it to my lips and took a long drink. Charlie's eyes lit right up. It really seemed to please him when I took long draughts of the beer. Well if it kept him from getting angry then long draughts I would take. He started asking me all kinds of questions about myself. It actually became quite pleasant, a group of guys just sitting around, drinking beer and shooting the shit. A wonderful smell hit my nostrils and I looked up to see Harry making his way to the table with four plates piled high with grub. He had three plates balanced on one arm and the forth in his other hand. He placed the first plate in front of Charlie then passed one to Pat, Larry and I. On the plate was a huge T-bone steak almost two inches thick. Mashed potatoes and gravy with peas rounded off the meal. Just the look of this meal was enough to start the saliva flowing. Harry went back quickly to the bar and returned with utensils rolled in paper napkins. He handed a set to Charlie, Pat and Larry. Then went back to wherever it was he spent his time. The other three dug into their meal with gusto. Not having any utensils yet I just sat there. "Somthin' wrong with the grub Harold?" Charlie asked. "Ah no Sir it looks great, I am just waiting for Harry to bring me some utensils." , I replied. "Sorry boy we only got three sets, guess ya will have to use the utensils ya was born with.", he gave a little chuckle and went back to eating. Damn, so now I was going to have to eat like a slob in front of all of these guys. I went to pick up the piece of steak in my hands. A big rough hand wrapped around my wrist to stop me. "What are ya doing Harold?", Charlie asked. "Well... ah.. I was going to pick up the steak in my hands Sir.", I stammered. Something was coming down I just knew it. "That is a terribly disgusting way to behave in public, Harold. Don't ya have any table manners at all? Well no matter, we are yer friends and we will help ya to learn. Place yer hands behind the back of the chair Harold." I did as I was told and someone came up and tied them together with a rope. "There that's better. Now those nasty hands won't be doing anything at the table that they shouldn't." He went back to shoveling the food into his mouth. Now how in the fuck was I going to eat this scrumptious dinner. My mouth was watering from the smell and my stomach was rumbling. "Ah, Mr. Charlie Sir," I asked politely, "Is there a proper way for me to eat this very nice meal you have provided. I really don't want to do anything improper Sir." "Well now Harold, as punishment for sticking yer fucking hands in yer food ya can just bend over and eat like the pig that ya are.", he sneered. Stunned, but starving I bent over and started to eat. Trying to eat with just the mouth and teeth is a very awkward experience. If the steak had been cut up it would have been much easier. I tried getting my tongue under the steak to lift it so I could take a bite. But it was too hot and burned my tongue. I know it was sick to be sitting naked in a bar full of guys, trying to eat a meal just using my mouth. But what choice did I have. It was frustrating, and terribly humiliating having all those eyes staring at me. I felt like some kind of misfit. I finally managed to break off a piece of steak, mind you I had a little accident in the process. I had managed to get an edge between my teeth and had bit down. Then it was a matter of trying to work ones teeth back and forth in a sawing motion to break the piece off. I had almost succeeded and made a side ways motion to get the piece to break off. Well it did but the rest of the steak went sliding towards the edge of the plate. It slid off, then slid across the bit of table fell to my lap then to the floor. I quickly pushed my face down to try and stop it but missed. In the process my face went into the plate and I ended up with grease all over my nose and forehead. I felt absolutely ridiculous. Charlie gave me a terrible look. "Pick it up pig.", he growled. Well what else could I do? I got up off the chair, went down on my knees and looked for my steak. Larry had his foot on it. I looked up at him and he gave me a smile. Tears formed and started rolling down my cheeks. "Just take a bite out of it Harold, I'll hold it for you," Larry ordered. With no choice I bent down until my mouth grabbed a hold of the steak and I ripped a piece off. I sat up with it in my mouth. "There ya go Harold, glad I could help. Now eat up.", he said. With tears rolling down my cheeks I chew the piece of steak I had managed to tear off. My appetite was gone. The piece of meat in my mouth had become tasteless. Larry watched as I chewed. As soon as I swallowed he lifted his foot. I bent over to pick up the steak but before I could get there Larry gave it a kick and it went sliding across the floor under the table. On my knees and without the use of my hands I went after it. It stopped close to Charlie's foot and he waited 'til I was almost there before giving it a kick which sent it out from under the table. I crawled after it. Everyone was cheering, for them this was great sport. Well that piece of steak started to get kicked all over the place with me following along on my knees. Each time I got close someone would give it a kick and send it sliding across the floor. "Harold will ya stop playing with your food and get it back on yer fucking plate.", Charlie yelled. That was the cue the others were waiting for. This time the steak stayed where it was till I got to it. I bent over and picked up the dirty piece of meat in my mouth a carried it back to my plate. Just like a little dog carries it's bone to its dog house. I dropped the dirty, grit covered piece of prime T-bone steak onto my plate. The other three had finished eating and sat watching me. Just to be mean, I think, Larry pushed his knife and fork over beside my plate. I paid no attention to the SOB. I just looked down at my ruined dinner. I suddenly felt someone undoing the bonds that held my hands behind my back. "Larry has finished with his fork and knife there Harold so I guess he wouldn't mind if ya used those. Would ya mind Larry?", Charlie said. "No Charlie I wouldn't mind if the kid uses my utensils. He is makin' such a pig of himself it really is sickening. My dad would have woomped the tar out'a my ass if I ever ate like that in public." My face turned red again, but what could I say. They held all the aces and could do and say what they wanted. I knew then that they were going to force me to eat this meat that had been kicked all around the dirty bar room floor. I picked up the knife and fork. I don't know how I did it but I managed to gag it all down. Charlie handed me another beer. I took a long swallow to try and rinse out my gritty mouth. Took another swallow and put the glass down on the table. "When will I be able to go home Mr. Charlie," I asked. "Well boy, seein' as I am about to close up I should think as soon as ya finish yer beer." I looked at him in surprise. I thought he was going to make me stay longer. I quickly picked up the glass and chug-a-lugged that beer. If I'd have known what was to follow I don't think I would have been in such a hurry. Harry came over and handed Charlie a bill. Charlie looked at it and handed it to me. It was a bill for all the beer the four of us had been drinking all afternoon and for four steak diners. The total tab was $165.25. I gave a little whistle and looked up at Charlie. He had a satisfied little smile on his face. "Ya can go up to the bar to pay yer bill on the way out Harold. Thank ya for the beer, the diner and the great entertainment. Ya must come back more often." I looked at him with my mouth agape. I didn't have $165.25 to pay for all of this. The trembling began in my feet and quickly began to climb up my legs. In no time at all my whole body was shaking. "Ah... Mr. Charlie ..... ah .... I don't have that much money Sir. I can't pay for all of this.", I blurted. Charlie's face clouded over and went a deep red. "Ya little punk fuck. We was real nice ta ya. We treated ya like one a us and now ya are tryin' ta stiff me again. I aught'a have the boys break every fuckin' bone in yer fuckin' body. Boys put this little fucking prick on the table." Pat, Larry and Pete rose up grabbed me and threw me face down on the table. My wrists and ankles were quickly secured with ropes to the tables legs. "Ya have tried to stiff me for the last time boy," Charlie screamed at me. "Now yer gonna pay." I was frantic. Oh dear god how did I get into this mess. The shaking had got worse and tears were rolling down my cheeks. What were they going to do. I was shaking and trebling so bad the whole table had started to bounce. From the corner of my eye I watched as Pete pulled off his belt. Oh shit they were going to beat me. "Charlie, please don't do this.", I pleaded. "Please don't hurt me. I did what you wanted. I tried to do everything you asked, please don't hurt me. Charlie please." But my pleading fell on deaf ears. Pete took a up a position to my side. He raised the belt and brought it whistling down across my exposed ass cheeks. The pain was excruciating and I let out a scream. The belt raised up and came down again almost on the same spot. I screamed, pulled and tugged on my bonds, all to no avail. The belt raised and came down, again and again. Pete worked his way from my ass cheeks up my back, making sure he hit every single bit of skin along the way. My back was on fire, I was still trying to scream with each blow, but my vocal cords and throat had become dry and raw. The screams had no volume now and were just scratchy noises emanating from a gasping mouth. With each wack of the belt my head would come up then plunk back down. A muffled sound would escape my lips. Finally I slipped off into a peaceful black void. I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up it was dark. There was someone kneeling beside me. I was lying on the ground in what looked like an alley. "Hey buddy are you ok?" the voice came to me from a long distance away. I knew the voice was coming from the man kneeling beside me. "Hey it's ok, your safe. Just relax you will be ok.", he kept repeating in a soothing voice. As I slowly regained my senses, the pain in my back took over everything. It was on fire. I cried and moaned from the pain, but that stranger just stayed with me repeating his soothing words. A few moments later I heard someone enter the alley. "Has he come to yet," the voice asked in concern. "Ya," the man beside me answered. "The ambulance will be here shortly." The second man announced. Ambulance! They had called an ambulance. Was I in that bad of a condition? What exactly had happened to me? I remembered the belt, but had something else been done as well? In the distance I could here the wewah of the ambulance as it approached, the wewah announcing each intersection that it passed through. A few moments late it entered the alley. The headlights illuminating the garages and ash cans and the face of the man that was holding my head. I looked at his face and screamed as my world turned to darkness again. I came to in the ambulance, an attendant was beside me washing me with something cold. The rag he pulled away had blood on it. Oh geesh was I hurt that bad? "It's ok lad," the attendant said. "Your ok, no broken bones that we could find. Just some small cuts and lots of bruising." "Where is Pat," I asked stupidly. "Pat?", the attendant asked. "Who is Pat?" "He was kneeling beside me when you arrived," I said shakily. "Oh he left right after we took over. He gave a statement to the police officer I think." The SOB he was part of the pack that had hurt me and he had the nerve to give a statement to the police. Well I hope the police find them and arrest the whole lot. They deserve whatever they get for doing this to me. The hospital released me that night. They had to find some clothes for me because I had been brought in naked. The doctor said that the next time I decided to go on a drinking binge I should make sure I had a friend near by to look after me. The police officer that interviewed me in the emergency ward at the hospital gave me pretty much the same warning. When I tried to tell him about Kelly Street he just kept shaking his head and saying there was no Kelly Street. I left the hospital and started the long walk back to my flat. When I got to the door I realized I did not have any keys. My wallet and keys were still in my jeans wherever they were. Oh well, it was still early so Mrs. Jones the kindly old lady that owned the house would still be awake and I knew she had spare keys to all the flats. I rang the bell and a few minutes later the parlour light came on and the door opened. "Evening Mrs. Jones," I said. "I am very sorry to disturb you but I was robbed and beaten today and I don't have my keys. I just got out of hospital." Then I began to cry. "Oh deary me, you poor boy. Now you just get right on in here and we will get you settled." Well Mrs. Jones fussed over me like a mother hen. She got the key to my flat and up the stairs we went. She opened my door and asked if I would be alright. I assured her I was ok and she went back downstairs. I closed my door and turned on the light. I got an immediate shock. Lying on the couch were my shirt, genes, shoes and socks. All the things I had been wearing. All that is except my white underpants with the kissy lips. How the hell did they get into my flat? Well of course dummy they had your fucking keys. I went over and picked up my genes. I checked the pocket and found my wallet. My keys were in the back pocket where I always carried them. I opened the wallet and everything seemed to be there. The $20. dollar bill and some loose change in the change purse. My credit card and other cards like health, Air Miles, Canadian Tire, Zeller's, A&P. Nothing was missing that I could see. I dropped the genes back onto the couch and made my way to my small kitchen. I needed a coke. I am addicted to the damned stuff. The kitchen is very small but when you are single like I am you really don't have a need for a large kitchen. On the small table under the window was a large brown envelope. Inside was a note and some photo's. Dear Harold; After reading this be sure to destroy it. If you have any thoughts of passing this note on to the police forget it now. It wouldn't do them any good anyway. It is most unfortunate that you turned out to be such a rotten fucking punk. I really cannot abide thieves. You stole $165.25 from me today and my boys recovered $50. of that amount from your hide. That leaves $115.25 still to be collected. You will be contacted and boy, you had better be ready to pay me what you owe. The boys were very easy on you today, next time it will be broken bones you can be sure of that. How do you like the nice photo's. My my now wouldn't they cause a sensation if certain people were to see them? Signed: Charlie. I looked at the photo's, 12 of them. Photo's of me stripping. Photo's of me naked. Photo's of me sucking cock and being fucked up the ass. I sat down at the table, put my head in my hands and let the tears roll. I was going to have to meet with them again. Oh dear lord don't let that happen I prayed. To be continued. Will Mr. Charlie come back for Harold? You can bet on it. Watch for Part 2, cuming soon to a story site near you.