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Lucas was young, barely old enough to legally drink, and yet here he was, sitting alone at the bar with more drinks in front of him than a proper adult would be able to deal with.
But the bartender knew just that, eyeing the boy from the minute he stepped into this small forgotten place, always filled with old regulars, not young boys, so he took his chance and offered him a drink, then another, then yet another, going from beers to liqueurs in a matter of hours, enjoying listening to the boy as he spoke to him, his speech getting more and more slurred.
This wasn’t the first time this had gone down, and everyone knew what to expect, all of the men looking at the boy with curiosity for the whole evening, some sneakily palming themselves, others simply smirking in knowledge of how hard they were, fully aware of what would ensue soon enough.
“Kid, I’m really enjoying our talks.” The bartender hummed, turning around and lowering his pants enough to jerk his hard cock off, sensitive enough for him to cum quickly, aiming his load into a glass.
He pulled it up, smiling at the milky white substance that now rested inside it, pulling it up enough for everyone to see.
Lucas had his eyes closed, head resting in his hand, still happily blabbering along.
“I ‘m too.” He slurred, “Y’re fun.” He added with a smile, unaware of how the bartender was now swirling around the cum in the bottom of the glass with a straw, making sure to turn it around once he was done, wanting to see him suck on it, unknowingly taking his first taste of the night.
“And since you’re such a good chat, you’re getting another free drink.” The bartender mused, mixing a simple drink for him, not adding alcohol this time, both because the boy was more than drunk enough already, and because he wanted him to taste what he was gulping down.
The whole bar knew that drink wasn’t really free, the price of it much higher than what regular money would cost, but the boy simply opened his eyes and smiled, holding onto the glass with both hands and putting the straw in his mouth, sucking down eagerly and humming at the taste.
“You like it?” He asked, glancing around the bar at the men, all of them staring now, ready for what was to come.
The boy hummed, taking another sip and nodding, closing his eyes.
“It tastes good.”
The bartender smirked, drying a glass and setting it to the side, glancing at the men again, then at the glass, hoping they’d get what he wanted them to do and smiling happily when Paul stood up to grab a hold of it, sitting in his booth and taking his cock out, starting to jerk off with a smile.
One by one, all the men took Paul’s place, jerking off in the glass and adding load after load of their sperm into the tall glass, most of it filled by the time the boy had downed his drink and, therefore, his first load.
“Come here, boy.” The bartender said when he spotted the filled glass, walking around the side of the bar and standing in front of him.
“I want to entertain our friends.” He added, watching as he turned to look around, each man sitting with their pants still half open, looking lustfully at him.
Lucas, even with the alcohol clouding his mind, understood what they wanted of him, somewhat, not fully understanding, maybe, but knowing that it was wrong.
“But we shou-” the boy hiccupped, looking up at the bartender with big blue eyes, hazy from the alcohol in his system, “ldn’t, ‘ight?” he slurred, resting his hands in his lap.
“Oh, we more than should. I gave you all those drinks for free, don’t you want to repay me?” The bartender spoke, lowering himself so that he was closer to the young boy, cupping his cheek.
Lucas nodded, eyes half lidded as the bartender stood tall again, guiding the boys chin upwards, so he could look at him.
“Plus, this is all your fault.” Henry, one of the regulars, said, standing up and sharing a look with the bartender, no longer satisfied with watching the scene unfold from where he was sat.
He was a big man, tall and strong and not too old, probably one of the youngest men in the bar at 43 years of age.
“M’ fault?” Lucas asked, pouting. He didn’t want anything to be his fault, but what had he done wrong? He had spent the evening here, staying out a little too late, but he hadn’t caused any trouble, right?
“Yep. Look at him.” Henry spoke again, raising his hand to untie the bartender’s apron, watching it fall to the ground to reveal his hard cock’s outline, straining against his pants.
“Oh.” Lucas muttered, looking at what was just before his eyes.
He had caused this?
His mind was hazy, a part of it telling him that there was an obvious answer for this, one that wasn’t his fault, but that thought wasn’t loud enough.
“Reach up and touch him, boy. Feel it.” Henry urged, grabbing his hand and placing it on the rough denim, gently guiding his movements.
Lucas blushed as he did, unable to stop his fingers from moving, wrapping around the outline he had his eyes one, focusing only on that, on how it felt.
“It’s your fault.” The bartender added, frowning in mock-anger when Lucas looked up at him, his body growing smaller as he cowered beneath him, even as his hand didn’t stop.
“My… my fault.” He repeated, words small on his lips.
My fault my fault my fault
“You can fix it, though.” The bartender said again, expression softening only the slightest bit.
“Yeah?” Lucas asked, looking up hopefully.
“Yeah. You see, you’ve done something bad, so we’ll have to punish you, or…” he trailed on, watching the gears turn in Lucas’s head, trying to come up with a solution, one he didn’t really have to search for, because he had no control left here.
“Or… you can help me out. Fix what you caused, and then we’ll let you go.” the bartender added, raising his hand to shush some of the regulars when they groaned, almost assuming they’d be getting none tonight.
Lucas widened his eyes at the chance, halting his movements to drop lower, placing his hands on his knees and effectively bowing, small tears falling from his eyes.
“Please, please, please, let me fix this.” He babbled.
The bartender reached for his hair, tilting his head back with a gentle tug, knowing that any harshness would come later, fully intending on turning this boy into their little slut, their toy, their cumdump.
He had no interest in him, none other than the one use he could see for him, but he’d keep his facade up for a little longer, keeping his touches and words soft, for now.
“Of course. Of course, baby, you can fix this. I’ll allow that.” He hummed, guiding him higher so that his face was in front of his crotch again, looking pitiful and small.
The bartender unbuckled his belt, untrusting of the boy's shivering hands, popping the button open and opening the zipper and pulling his pants and boxers lower, smirking when his thick, long cock sprung free, the tip red and angry and leaking precum.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” The bartender spoke, cupping his cheek again, guiding him closer.
“I am. I am.” Lucar repeated, lips ghosting over the tip.
“You are. You really are. So how about you give a little kiss to my cock, huh? Take care of it?” He suggested, smirking when the boy eagerly nodded, placing small kisses over the head, staining his lips with the transparent liquid.
“Suck on it, baby. Take it in your mouth, yeah?”
Lucas closed his eyes, almost moaning at the simplicity of being called baby, opening his mouth and trailing his tongue over the cock in front of him.
His movements weren’t precise, he wasn’t fully sure what he had to do, exactly, never having sucked a cock before, but he tried to recreate what his only girlfriend had tried on him once, before dumping him when he couldn’t satisfy her, not that he had been given much of a chance to improve.
The bartender smirked, watching the first few inches of his cock disappearing into the boy’s mouth, tight and hot, but it wasn’t enough, not after all the waiting he had done for the past few hours, watching the boy getting drunker and drunker while planning just what he, what they, could do to him.
He looked up, catching Henry’s eye and mouthing a “get the phone”, wanting all this to be recorded, the perfect way to keep this boy forever, and not only for the night.
Henry obliged, pulling his phone out and starting to record just in the moment that the bartender drew his hips forward, slipping half of his cock into his mouth.
There were still 5 inches to go, but he could see how Lucas was already struggling, tears falling freely from his eyes as his hands clamped on his legs, knuckles turning white as he tried to fit it all in his mouth, the stretch on his lips already feeling too much.
“It’s all your fault.” The bartender repeated, seeing the effect of those words on him, smirking as the boy moaned around him, cutting the moan short by pushing his hips forward again in one harsh thrust, long and hard, smiling when Lucas gargled beneath him, hands flying to his thighs to try and push himself off his cock, flinching when Henry landed a hard slap on his ass instead, the material of his pants shielding him from most of the pain.
“It’s all your fault,” Henry said again, making Lucas close his eyes as tears flowed along his cheeks, hearing every word and engraving it into his mind, believing them all.
It’s my fault, my fault, it’s all my fault.
“You’re just a dirty little slut, and we get to use you how we want to. It’s your fault, so you have to pay.” Henry adds on, watching as Lucas opened his eyes again, focusing on nothing as the bartender fucked into him roughly, uncaring that the boy was struggling to breathe, gargling around him, throat tightening at each trust.
Henry walked behind the bar, grabbing a knife and holding onto it, smirking as the bartender gave the last deep thrusts, coming deep into Lucas’s throat with a loud groan, holding his head close to his pubes as he dumped it all down, the young boy moaning around him, the vibrations only making him cum more.
It was wrong, he thought, something was wrong, because he couldn’t breathe and something was going down his throat, but that something tasted good, reminded him of the drink he had earlier, so he gulped it down, trying to free his throat so he could breathe again, but that wasn’t important, really, was it? He just had to fix this.
He had to fix it.
It’s all my fault, he thought, his vision growing dark as he sucked down as best he could, lungs burning while he kept on milking the cock that was still in his mouth, trying so hard to fix it all before the world went dark around him.
“Did the slut really pass out?” Henry said with a laugh, watching as the bartender let the boy go, his body slumping down backwards and onto the floor, cheeks red and raw from the tears.
“He’ll have a sore throat tomorrow.” Tim chuckled from the corner, palming himself again slowly, wanting nothing more that to fuck that little boy as soon as possible.
“He’s starting a new job tomorrow, too. He was here to celebrate.” The bartender explained with a chuckle, “what a way to start” he added, pulling the boy up to help Henry out, smirking as the knife dragged over his pants, slicing them open along his ass, all the way to the front, allowing his dick to be freed and his little asshole to be exposed and easily accessible.
“No underwear.” Henry hummed, shaking his head. “He deserves this, the little whore.”
“And he’ll have to walk home like this too. We’ll fill him up with our loads, then send him on his way. Either he’ll get a taxi or he’ll walk, but our cum will be dripping out of him. And maybe someone else’s, too” the bartender added contently, grabbing the knife from Henry and dragging it gently on the fair skin on his ass, smirking when everyone snickered at his words.
He reached for his shirt and cut that off too, the only modesty allowed being the one that his pants would grant him, ass and dick out but legs covered, yet even that was generous, and nothing more would be allowed.
And if they happened to be too rough, fabric ripping as they fucked him, then that was just what destiny had in store for him and nothing they could be blamed for.
“Still passed out?” Pall called from the side, standing with the rest of the men, six in total, excluding Paul, Henry and the bartender, now surrounding the boy.
“Yep.” Henry mused, moving him so his ass was in full view, spitting on it and watching the glob of spit travel lower, coating his hole.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Another man called, hard dick in hand, taking a step forward.
“I want to hear him struggle.” the bartender said, turning Lucas around so that he was lying on the cold ground, legs spread open and dick hard against his stomach, precum dripping out of it when Henry placed his dirty shoe over it, pressing into it harshly yet getting barely any reaction from the boy.
“He ain’t waking up, it seems. You fucked him good.” Paul chuckled again, kneeling down to hold the boy’s mouth open, spitting into it.
“Pass me the glass.” The bartender asked, holding his hand out as one of the men grabbed it, handing it to him. “Hold his mouth open.” He added, kneeling down too and holding his nose closed, smirking as he slowly dribbled the contents of the glass into his mouth, the various loads of cum staining his tongue and dripping down his throat, filling his stomach up with almost a pint of it, his eyes fluttering open only when most of the contents had already been ingested.
The men cheered around him when he came back to consciousness, calling him all sorts of derogatory names as the bartender’s hand clamped around his mouth, setting the glass on the table, a good few gulps left to take.
“You’re going to swallow it all, okay, slut? We’ve already filmed you choking on my cock, wouldn’t want your new boss to see it, right? Or should we maybe ask him to join us, instead?”
Lucas’s eyes widened, struggling against his hand but swallowing it all, shaking his head furiously as more tears fell from his eyes.
“I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” He tried to say, words muffled by the hand, crying into it at the view of the sadistic smile on the bartender’s face, someone he thought he could trust.
Henry pulled his phone out again, already filming the scene.
“Then say it, slut. Say “feed me your precious cum.” he teased, pulling his hair so that his head would be tilted back, ready to drink the rest.
“Feed-” He started, blushing as he slurred his words, “feed me your precious cum.”
“As you wish.” The bartender spoke, tilting all of the contents of the glass in one go, laughing as Lucas struggled beneath him, his mouth full of cum as he tried to swallow it all.
“Pour some tequila, Paul. Gotta get all of it, right? It’s Precious.” He teased him again, the boy looking up with a grimace as he laid there, mouth open and cheeks red.
The bartender swooshed the tequila around in the glass, clearing the glass of the cum that was left and adding more alcohol to his system, making him pliant and dumb, tapping the boy’s chin.
“Open up, baby boy, wouldn’t want to waste any.” He said with fake concern, pouring the tequila down slowly, smiling as he drank it, sitting up with a cough once he had drunk it all.
His throat was burning and sore and his head was spinning, thoughts swirling in his head but he couldn’t move, his legs feeling weak and his words sounding wrong. n
Lucas looked at them, crying softly as they dragged him up by his arms and legs, throwing him on one of the tables, his dick being painfully pressed between his body and the sticky wood, yelping at the contact.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he mumbled, unsure what he was sorry for.
“Count.” Henry said, landing a harsh slap on his asscheek, laughing when he yelped again, raising his hips and dragging them back down, repeating the painful action from a moment ago.
“Ah!” Lucas cried, reaching for his ass and covering it with his hand, struggling when each of the men grabbed him, holding his hands and feet so that he’d be splayed there, ass on full attention for them.
Henry tugged on the material of the pants, smirking as it ripped lower, exposing more of his reddening pale skin, raising and lowering his hand again, and again, and again, with all the intent of marking him with bruises that would last for days.
“Thee!” Lucas cried, trying to avoid each hit, getting to five before he forgot to count again, causing Henry to start again in a sadistic game with the reach of aiming ten spanks.
By the thirtieth, Lucas has successfully counted ten slaps, ending the last one with a last thrust against the table in a futile attempt to protect his aching asscheeks, the last thrust making him come with a strangled cry, releasing his own cum on the table beneath him, staining his pants in the process.
He closed his eyes, shivering at the overstimulation and harshness, his head swimming in a sweet haze both from the alcohol and his orgasm, but he barely had the time to recover before he was being spun around again, his back now resting on the table.
“Ah!” he jolted when Henry started stroking his cock, “‘s sensitive” he hissed, trying to get away.
“You going to be a good boy for us?” Paul asked, caressing over his stomach and chest, the gentle touches making him melt at the attention.
“Yes.” He hummed, closing his eyes again, his body gently rocking at each stroke on his cock.
It was too much, and he already felt so full, but it also felt so good.
Paul chuckled in delight, stepping in front of his mouth and letting his dick fall against the boy’s cheek, his lips wrapping around the head immediately, wanting to be good, so good, for them.
“Good boy.” Paul hummed, “Our little slut. This is where you belong.”
Lucas nodded as best he could, taking the cock in his mouth and swirling his tongue around the head,
The bartender moved to the side, smirking when he saw the men that couldn’t use Lucas yet jerking off again into the cup, wanting it to fill it once more before they could fill the boy themselves.
Henry stepped in front of the boy’s ass, his thick finger lazily tracing down his cock and towards his asshole, pushing his finger in dry, smirking when he jolted, slipping further upwards, his moan making Paul’s cock slip further down his throat, leaving him with wide eyes as he sucked on his thick rod.
“Ah, thanks Henry” Paul groaned, his cock fully buried into the boy’s throat, the bulge of it evident on his neck.
Paul’s hand snaked around it, pressing on it and feeling himself through the skin, squeezing a little more, not minding if Lucas would pass out again, knowing that would simply make it easier to use him as the simple toy that he was.
Henry smirked, giving a few strokes to his own dick before pushing into his tight asshole, the only preparation having been his finger and the precum on his tip.
Lucas let out a loud moan, his hands reaching up and clawing at Paul’s legs, the pain breaking him out of his haze, but his attempts didn’t do anything but impale him more deeply on both cocks, the lack of air once more making his head spin, and his ass being so painfully full just adding to it.
“You want to pass out again while sucking cock, slut?” Paul asked, thrusting in his mouth at a furious pace, treating him as nothing more but a fleshlight.
Lucas groaned, moaned, tried to speak, shake his head, but no sounds came out, not while each time Paul pushed back Henry pushed forward, filling him right back up.
“Seems like he wants just that.” Matthew hummed, jerking into the glass and filling it up again, another whole pint of cum waiting for him.
Henry and Paul continued pumping into him, both of them coming with a guttural moan, filling him up with their come.
Henry pulled back, watching the young boy’s ass gape and twitch, the first dribble of cum leaking out of him, while Paul stayed buried there, making sure his now softening cock was cleaned properly, laughing when Lucas started going red, the lack of air once more affecting his mind.
The bartender filled a small cup up with straight vodka, walking up to the boy when Paul pulled out, watching his head fall back and his tongue loll out.
“You must be thirsty.” He said, placing the cup on his lips and tilting it back, watching the boy’s expression change from thankful to surprised when what touched his lips was alcohol, not water.
“We want you nice and drunk.” He explained, kissing his forehead softly, aware now of how easily pliable he was when treated with care.
“I want to please you.” He slurred, grabbing onto the bartender’s shirt, holding him close and trying to bring his cock to his lips, begging please, please, please, over and over.
“Let’s fill you up, huh?” The bartender mused, caressing his cheek before reaching back, slapping his thigh before massaging it, shushing the boy.
“Please, yes, please, please, please-” He cried, spreading his legs wide open, waiting for someone, anyone, to plunge into him.
Paul reached over to grab the pint, filled once more to the brim with cum, swooshing the liquid around before leaning over Lucas, prying his mouth open.
“Drink up, slut.” He hummed, “And for every drop you miss, you’ll get spanked.” He warned, being quick with the pouring for that main reason, having seen how red and bruising his cheeks already were, but wanting more.
He couldn’t help but love the idea of the young boy struggling to sit down tomorrow, listening to his new boss with cum still staining his insides.
He dribbled the liquid down, smirking as the boy tried his best to swallow quickly enough, desperately trying to breathe and swallow and not miss a drop, he just wanted to please, to be good, but he couldn’t take it all, a slight amount spilling from his lips and down his neck.
The bartender smiled amused, rubbing his hand over the trail before pushing down, blocking some of the airflow of the boy, making it hard for him to swallow, making more cum slip past his lips.
Everyone watched as the boy’s stomach grew, now a visible bulge showing how stuffed he was getting, drinking and being filled like a perfect little slut.
“Good boy, good boy.” The bartender whispered when the glass had been completely emptied, smiling proudly at the young boy.
“Now, for your punishment.” He said then, reaching out to help the boy up.
“Punish me, please.” The boy slurred, bending over to make it easier for them, “do as you please, I’m yours, I’m yours.”
By this point he had forgotten all about his new job, but they’d all make sure not to mess his pretty little face up, the drying tears and come, along with the red cheeks, were more than enough to make him look like the prettiest boy out there, but seeing him bent over, holding his cheeks spread so that they could use him? That was heaven.
“So we can hurt you?” Finn asked, finally speaking after a night of quiet.
“Anything, yes, yes.” Lucas moaned, dropping forward when Finn landed a harsh slap on his ass, his handprint immediately stamped on his skin.
They were rough, sucking hickeys on his skin, pushing him and slapping him and bruising him, his skin growing red and purple in a matter of minutes, but the boy just moaned at every slap, eyes rolling back when he got choked, spanked, hit.
He got fucked, cock after cock stuffed in his ass, sometimes two at a time, his hole left gaping and leaking, stomach always more bulging out, making him appear pregnant from all the cum he had ingested and got shot into him.
“Think he can take a fist?” Someone asked, throwing him on the table until he was on all fours, face resting on the table with his eyes closed, appearing like he was sleeping, and ass up, slapped a few times for fun, watching him jolt and moan.
“I think so. Do you, slut?” Henry asked, reaching down, looking at him as he touched his cock, neglected and sore after all the attention to his ass and mouth and skin and nipples, orgasming only through the rough fucking but never thanks to any other attention.
“I can take it all.” He slurred again, tired and cock-drunk.
“Ah, he can take it all. Well then, let’s see.” Finn said harshly, grabbing a hold of his lips and standing behind him, slipping three fingers with no problem before adding another one, watching the boy tense beneath him.
Someone stood in front of him, slipping his cock in his mouth and pistoning forward, uncaring, once more, if their toy could breathe or not.
The last finger slipped in fairly easily, but before Lucas had any time to get used to it he was being pushed backwards from the cock in his mouth, his ass being forcefully impaled on Finn’s large hand, most of it slipping inside of him.
“Look at that!” Finn said excitedly, pulling his hand back and then forward with more vigor, watching as most of his forearm was now in the spender boy, his asshole stretched impossibly wide.
“Touch his cock, make him come.” Finn ordered to one of the men, paying close attention to the boy falling apart, drool slipping down his chin, belly protruding even more now that he was getting fist fucked, trembling as he came, and came, and came, nothing else coming out of his cock as he wailed, getting overstimulated while he chocked on the cock that was planted down his throat, adding more cum to his insides, more than he, or anyone, could count at this point.
When the man finished spilling down his throat, he moved back, letting Lucas fall forward, face first into the table, the first potential bruise of the night on his cheek, eyes rolled back and unconscious.
“Fucked him good.” Someone commented as the fist was removed from his ass, left gaping more than anyone could’ve expected.
They slapped him more, punched his flesh, not too harshly but roughly enough to leave him bruised, before they all took another turn with the unconscious boy, letting go inside of him again, and again, and again, even if he was almost too loose now.
The bartender was the last to fuck him, hand around his throat and big dick inside of him, unleashing the last load he’s take tonight, grabbing a beer bottle before pulling out.
“Let’s plug him up, yeah?” He asked with a smirk, pushing the bottle in, barely meeting any resistance as he plugged him up, belly swollen as if he was carrying a child.
“Take a few photos before we let him go.” He added, holding his legs spread to show his ass when Henry came forward, snapping picture after picture to add to the photos and videos he had taken throughout the night.
When Lucas opened his eyes, it was late, or early, rather, only a few hours away from when he was supposed to be in the office.
He flinched as he moved, the bottle digging into him as he stood, trying to cover himself as well as he could as he started walking hope, a faint smile on his lips at the thought of having been so useful, so good.
He reached into his pocket, finding his phone as the cold air of the night prickled his skin, seeing a message light up his screen.
“Thank you for tonight, slut. Here are some memories for you. See you soon.”
He saved the number, scrolling through the numerous attachments, each one of them showing him in varying stages during the night, face twisted in bliss.