He never considered his ass for anything other than waste disposal. Now he realized that it felt as good as rubbing the head of his cock.
He wasn’t sure why he did it, but somehow he just had to get the better of Darren, and if stuffing a fish full of sinkers to win a competition was going to get him there, well he was willing to take the risk.
He just couldn’t overlook the smug little comments anymore, the subtle little one-upmanship that Darren always seemed to carry on with. Sure he was good-looking, toned, constantly working out and always had a hot girlfriend on his arm. Just because he was also smart, kind, funny…did that make him better than anyone else?
If only the sinker hadn’t rolled out the damn fish’s mouth right at the crucial moment, showing everyone he’d cheated.
His attempts to make light of it had fallen flat, and the guys had mostly just looked embarrassed for him and walked away.
Darren and Mark had both just looked at him shaking their heads, before turning and walking away. “C’mon guys, it was a joke!” Mortified, Tom tried to mollify them. “Don’t get all cut up about it, I was just fucking around!”
Tom followed them back up to the house, dejected but hopeful he could win his way back into the circle. The seven guys had come away for a week away, staying in Mark’s family’s cabin in the bush near Lake Bluestone.
They’d been here 2 days already, so another 5 days being ostracized was not high on Tom’s list of desirable outcomes.
They’d been planning this trip for more than a year now. Trying to coordinate work rosters, girlfriends – even kids for a couple of them – so they could get away for a week had proved nearly impossible, yet finally here they were.
The cabin was no run-down shack by any estimation. With 4 bedrooms, a large living area with an open fire, and an outdoor heated spa, the boys were really living it up. The lake was well-stocked with fish, and the results of their fairly amateurish attempts to catch them were surprisingly good. Even the weather had played along with sunny days and cool nights.
Tom followed the others into the cabin, ducking under a stray party flag hanging by the door. The whole rom was crisscrossed with strings of the triangular flags left over from a birthday party for Mark’s cousin the month prior.
David and Simon were gathered around the fireplace, trying to coax a flame out of some randomly stacked logs as the evening began to cool.
“You guys know I was only joking, right?” Tom asked.
David looked at him over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You, Mark and Darren have been measuring dicks since high school. They’ll get over it.”
Josh walked over from the kitchen with a beer in his hand.
“Where else you got those sinkers stuffed?” he asked, slapping Tom hard on the ass.
Glad to be making fun of it now, Tom laughed along with him.
“Surprisingly handy storage space up my ass.” He joked. “And, if I fall in the water, the sinkers help keep me pointing head up!”
“That’d be right, ya big faggot.” Josh bent himself over the pool table, ass up in the air, miming being fucked. “Any excuse to fill up that hole.”
Tom grabbed a tennis ball off the cupboard beside him and threw it at Josh, hitting him squarely between the cheeks.
“I’m too busy sticking my tongue up my girlfriend to have time to get fucked, but if you think it’s worth a try…”
Josh stood up laughing, and punched him hard on the arm as he walked past. “Gotta get me another beer, wash the taste of your dad’s cum out of my mouth.” He pranced across the room doing his best camp impression.
Devon had just walked in with an armful of firewood.
“You lot joke about being poofs so much, you really have me wondering.” He said shaking his head. “Now get out of the way so I can get this fire started and save at least one match for the rest of the week!” He took the matchbox from David and had the fire going within minutes.
The night proceeded much as the previous two had. A huge amount of alcohol, some meat on the barbeque and a lot of joking around. Enough alcohol, the gathering dark, and an offhand dare had been all it took to get them skinny dipping in the lake, wrestling and horsing around.
The guys had been friends since high school, and against all odds had stuck together, despite half of them moving away. They’d had their arguments, shared awkward moments, and were generally pretty comfortable together.
It had been months since they’d all been together, but from the moment they’d arrived at the cabin, it had been like no time had passed at all.
The next morning dawned, bringing dry mouths and headaches all round. Tom shook off the disjointed memories of their lake antics. Nothing had really happened other than a bit of horsing around, but he was sure there were at least of couple of hard cocks that had bumped into his thigh in the melee.
Deciding it was best not to dwell on that thought too much, he dived into the shower before the others were up, making the most of some hot water. As the hot water washed over him, his mind turned again to the drunken wrestle of the night before. With his cock swelling rapidly, he turned his thoughts quickly to his girlfriend, remembering the last time they’d fucked before he came away.
Grabbing hold of himself, he contemplated rubbing one out quickly in the shower to get rid of his hard on. His plans were quickly interrupted though, as the door opened and Josh walked in wearing only his boxers.
Blushing furiously, Tom tried to hide his hard on, turning towards the wall. Ignoring him, Josh whipped his cock out, quickly shooting a loud stream of piss into the toilet beside the shower.
“Don’t let me interrupt your morning wank, mate.” Josh said matter-of-factly. “Someone’s either taken a dump or performed some sort of Satanic ritual in the other shitter, and god knows I won’t be going back in there in a hurry.” He shuddered theatrically.
Tom said nothing as Josh shook himself off, turning to playfully flap his cock a couple of times towards the shower, before tucking it away and walking out.
“Have fun, mate.” He laughed over his shoulder as he left. “Make sure you give it a good wipe down when you’re done!”
Mortified, Tom’s erection vanished and he quickly dried off and got dressed. Not wanting to face the ridicule he knew would be coming, he grabbed his fishing bag from the floor beside the door, and headed out.
“I’m heading down to try out this early worm shit I’ve heard so much about.” He called over his shoulder to Mark and Josh who were standing in the kitchen. “Back later.”
Later, back in the house, the other six sat variously on the couches and armchairs, in animated conversation.
“Darren, if you’re so sure it’ll never work,” Mark said, “then you’ve got nothing to worry about. You just have to do exactly as I say, or the bet’s off.”
“You don’t have to worry.” Darren replied. “I’ll follow instructions like a good little boy. It’ll be the easiest money I’ve ever made. There’s no way he’ll go through with it.”
“We’ll see, then, won’t we.” Mark said. He grabbed his phone and headed for the door. “Better go and get this organized then, I guess.”
Pleased with the two fish he’d caught, Tom wandered back to the house. He stood aside as Mark walked out dialing a number on his phone, nodding briefly to Tom as he passed. Tom walked into the living room to find the others sitting around, suddenly looking awkward.
“Was it something I said?” he joked as he headed for the kettle. “Who’s for a coffee? This hangover is a killer, and I could use some caffeine.”
Eager to worm his way back into everyone’s good books, Tom whipped up a stack of pancakes, cleaning the dishes as he went. It seemed to break the ice, an everyone was chatting happily as the day wore on.
Despite that, there was still an awkwardness between him and the other guys, with subtle cues here and there. They all laughed a little too hard at his jokes, and broke eye contact that little bit too early to be quite natural.
Tom was sure that Josh had told them all about his jerk-off session in the shower, and with nothing else he could do about it, he did his best to just ignore it all and press on.
The standard daily pattern of fishing, some time in the boat, a bit of lazing around playing cards and of course more beer rolled on and Tom settled back into a more comfortable position among his mates. Darren still seemed a bit stand-offish, but by the end of the day they were back on speaking terms.
Tom noticed Mark making a number of calls on his phone, but no one else seemed to pay any attention, so Tom just let it go. He didn’t want to make any more waves for a while.
By dinner time, Tom was already drunk, and after a full day of hung-over drinking, he was in bed and asleep within minutes of finishing his meal.
The sun was already high in the clear sky by the time Tom finally rose and made his way to the living area. Simon stepped in front of him with his little video camera in hand.
“Seriously?” Tom grumbled as he pushed past him to feed his caffeine craving. “Surely I can wake up a bit before you subject me to that!”
Simon laughed. “Well, it’s an accurate portrayal of the week away! What’s the point of filming if it’s all just a fake, prettied-up version of what we did for the week?”
“Yeah, but a man needs his coffee.” Tom was a little irritated by Simon’s insistence that they participate in this bullshit filming. He knew they would never watch it again. Biting his tongue, he let it go, again trying not to make any waves. He just wanted to get along with everyone now.
Grabbing a bowl of cereal and his freshly brewed coffee, Tom sat at the dining table just up from Mark who was working on his computer. He quickly shut the screen, as if trying to stop Tom from seeing what he was looking at. Darren walked into the room and Mark turned to him.
“That…property we were talking about is up online.” He said, somewhat cryptically. “My mate just emailed me the…walk-through video. You should have a look so that you know the layout.”
Darren looked awkward, but walked over and took the laptop from Mark.
“I didn’t know you were in the market for a new place.” Tom didn’t know why he was looking so cagey, but tried to sound conversational. “Are you moving?”
“Nah,” Darren said, not making eye contact. “Just doing some research.” He took the computer and headed off back to his room.
Tom didn’t see him again until mid-afternoon. He wondered what was going on. Maybe Darren and Mark were swapping porn or something.
“It would have to be some pretty kinky shit for them not to show the rest of us.” He thought to himself.
Late that evening, the drinks were flowing rapidly. Tom, Darren and Simon sat in the hot tub with the other guys sitting around the firepit beside them. Darren seemed determined to get drunk, and not wanting to be outdone, Tom was keeping up with him drink for drink. His tongue had thickened just enough to slur his speech, and the world had blurred ever so slightly.
Tom couldn’t quite remember who had started it, but the conversation had landed once again on the topic of sex. Mark was telling the story of his last girlfriend who’d been obsessed with trying to let her peg him.
“I don’t even know what that is.” Tom said, almost to himself.
“It’s letting her fuck him up the ass with a strap-on.” Josh jumped in. “All the rage, apparently.”
Devon leaned back in his chair. “No-one’s sticking nothing up my ass.” He pronounced with an air of finality, kicking a log sticking out of the fire, causing a shower of sparks to fly up above them. “That’s a one-way passage if ever I saw one.”
Mark wasn’t letting it go though. “What is it with us straight guys and our ass phobias?” He asked. “We’re so hung up with being tough and letting nothing scare us off, but one tickle of the old asshole and we run screaming for cover. We’re all too fucken scared!”
Darren swigged his beer. “I’m not scared of any bullshit like that. You think I’m gunna turn into a fag just cos some chick’s tickled my ring?”
Tom swayed a little in his seat. “You’re such a pussy, you’d run screaming if a stiff breeze blew near your asshole.” He laughed. “You’re as scared of that shit as the next man.”
“Bullshit!” Darren was in for a fight now. “I could take whatever she’d throw at me. You’re the one that’d run screaming, ya little poof.”
“Bet I could take more than you, that’s for sure.” The liquid courage was flowing through Tom with a force now. He wasn’t letting Darren win any argument, no matter the subject.
“You bet, do ya?” Darren asked, narrowing his eyes. “Bet you’re talking bullshit, that’s what I bet!”
Mark looked over at them, raising both hands in a placating gesture. “Let’s not get into a fist fight now, boys!” he said calmly. “You want a bet, why don’t you put your money where your ass is, so to speak.”
Tom looked at him confused. “What do you mean?” he asked confused.
“I mean let’s make it a real bet. See which of you is man enough to put up with more ass play than the other. If you’re not scared of a bit of pain, and you’re not scared of turning gay, there’s nothing to stop you, really, is there?”
Darren wasn’t convinced. “There’s no way he’d do it.” He said, gesturing at Tom. “He’s such a pussy.”
Tom felt like something was off. He was struggling to follow the conversation, but knew he couldn’t give in to Darren.
“Bullshit I’m a pussy.” He said forcefully. “If he’s in it, I’m in it. I can take whatever he can!”
“Alright, it’s a bet then.” Mark had quickly stepped into the role of adjudicator. “A game of chicken. You both have to put up with some ass play. Whoever wants out first loses.”
“And what does the winner get?” Tom felt the doors were rapidly closing behind him. He couldn’t pull out now without letting Darren win. Desperately looking for an escape route, he had to keep them talking.
“Well when I beat you,” Darren’s voice dripped with condescension. “you have to be my slave for the day.”
“What does that mean, exactly.” Tom asked, a note of dread in his voice now.
“Alright,” Mark jumped in, “the loser has to be slave to the winner for the day. That means anything they ask, just no sex stuff.”
“Yeah, no sex stuff.” Darren agreed.
Tom saw a look pass between Darren and Mark. Suddenly he was suspicious.
“You guys are bullshitting.” He retorted. “You’re just going to fake doing stuff to Darren so I look like a dick. How am I going to know you’re not just faking it?”
Simon jumped in. “That’s easy, I’ll just rig up a camera so you can both see what’s happening to the other guy on a screen.”
“Bullshit!” Tom shook his head. “No way you’re filming this shit! I’ll be an internet sensation in no time!”
“Nah, that’s easy.” Mark said, always quick with the solutions. “We’ll just string up a sheet so you can’t see your faces. Alright, it’s a deal. Just give us 10 minutes to set up and you’re on.”
He dashed inside before they could object, with Simon climbing out of the tub and following, towel wrapped around him.
“We’re not doing it now, are we?” Tom was grasping at straws. He could see no way out of this now without having to put up with Darren forever holding this over him. His mind was too clouded to think straight. He could tell this was a bad idea, but the thoughts just wouldn’t solidify in his brain.
“You can pull out before we start if you want.” Darren taunted him. “I could do with a slave for the day. Just think of all the things you could do for me.”
Tom didn’t want to contemplate the humiliation that that would entail. As he downed the rest of his beer, Josh quickly replaced it with a full one.
“Better drink up, mate.” He said smirking. “Before you work out what you’ve just agreed to!”
Around 10 nervous minutes passed before Mark finally called them inside. Not wanting to appear reluctant, Tom quickly skulled the rest of his beer, and climbed out of the spa, drying himself off quickly. He and Darren both walked into the living area, bathers still wet and dripping onto the floor.
Tom could see what had taken time to set up. The large table in the center of the room was now surrounded by a series of white bedsheets, hanging from the party flags crisscrossing the ceiling. One bench seat sat along either side of the sheet-draped table.
Darren and Tom were directed to separate sides of the table, obscured from each other’s view.
“Alright,” Mark said matter-of-factly, “off with those pants.”
Tom had no choice now but to comply. He stumbled a little as he bent down and stripped off his pants, the alcohol really screwing with his coordination now. He stood self-consciously naked among his fully-clothed mates. It was only this week that he’d been skinny dipping with these same guys, but something about the contrast that left him feeling totally exposed.
Mark lifted a section of the hanging sheet and gestured to Tom.
“OK, kneel up on this bench, and lean onto the table under the sheet.”
As if in a trance, Tom complied, a cushion hastily shoved under his knees an almost comical nod to his comfort. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, the sheet dropped back across his torso.