Sucking Cock For Cash (Part 2)

Suck Gay Cock for Money

It was well gone noon when I finally woke after a fitful night’s, or should that be morning’s sleep. I made my way to the bathroom and started on my morning ablutions. My backside was sore where the ‘tail’ had been but it was nothing compared to how tender my balls were. I sat on the toilet, gently recuperating and thought back over the previous evening.

What had I got myself into! How naïve had I been to somehow think that all I would be doing was a little ‘pony’ racing. I had never dreamed that I was, effectively becoming a rent boy for the night. So much for Mr H’s promise that I wouldn’t have to get involved in more than ‘a certain amount of groping’; I had both given and received blow jobs. What’s more, I had had some vision of the punters as dirty old men in raincoats, creepy but hardly threatening. The reality had been a massive wake up call. Arthur and his friends had been bad enough but Archie was positively terrifying.

Still, it didn’t really matter. I had survived and I was still in one piece, just. I would never want to do it again, whatever the cash on offer. Honest I wouldn’t, honest!

But, as I thought over the things I had done I found that, despite the bruised and battered state of my balls, I was getting hard. Whether I went back or not, there were some aspects of what had happened that had shaken my concept of what I was and what I wanted. Take, for example, when I had been sat on Arthur’s lap, playing the moxie. When he had slid his hand up my thigh and into my shorts I had been genuinely excited. As he had played with my prick I hadn’t had to fake my response and, when I had kissed his nipple, for all that he had been a fat, ugly, slob, it had thrilled me as much as him.

And then, on my knees, being abused by Si, that had touched a nerve deep, deep inside me. By rights I should have been appalled. I had been tricked, hoodwinked, into a position where I was forced to give complete strangers blow jobs and yet, and yet, even now I could feel his prick filling my mouth and hear the words he used. Why did it thrill me so? Why did I ache to do it again?

In fact the whole pony boy experience had been so, so far from what I had expected. Andy had suggested that it was just young men parading around naked for the sexual gratification of dirty old perverts. What I hadn’t bargained on was finding myself just as aroused as the ‘perverts’. What did that make me?

Just thinking about what I had done was making me hard and I ended up gingerly stroking my prick but my balls were far too sore and I had to stop. Aroused or not, I wasn’t going to be doing any wanking for a day or two. What’s more, the day was fast slipping away. I had already missed the two lectures I had set for that morning, and, academically, I had nothing else in my diary. Part of me just wanted to go back to bed but Mr H still owed me money and, for that, I needed to go to his office. I wondered what he had meant by ‘we have to talk’. That’s never a phrase that bodes well. I gave myself a lick and a promise, scraped a razor over my face, got dressed in the loosest pair of sweatpants I could find, bunged on a tee shirt and went down to my car so as to drive to the Acme East offices.

“Hello, Ben! How’s the old meat and veg?” Tracy said as soon as I entered.

I must have looked blank, I certainly felt it.

“Meat and veg? Family jewels? Your balls, sweetie, your balls. From what I heard Archie did quite a job on you. That’ll put a stop to your wanking for a day or two.”

I just blushed, much to Tracy’s amusement.

“Is Mr H…?” I asked.

“Hang on,” she said before pressing a button on her phone.

“Harold,” she said when it was answered. “There’s a young man with a squeaky voice come to see you. Yeah, that’s the one. OK, Will do.” She turned back to me. “Go on through, darlin’, go on through. He’s expecting you.”

I went through to the back office and there was Mr H behind his desk.

“Well, if it isn’t my little pony. Which one are you, I wonder, Fluttershy, maybe?” he laughed. “How’s the balls. Drop the keks and show Uncle Harold.”

I nearly protested but, let’s face it, he’d already seen it all and more and it was a bit late for modesty. I sighed deeply, undid the drawstring of my jogging bottoms and pushed them, along with my boxers, down to my knees.

“Come here, sonny, I can’t see from over here.”

Waddling somewhat with my trousers around my ankles I made my way over to the side of his desk. He beckoned me closer until I was standing right next to him. He reached down and, quite gently, gave them a feel. Even so I winced at the touch.

“Have you taken a piss yet? How was it?”

“I had one this morning, Mr H. It was fine,” I replied.

“No blood in the urine?”

“No, none at all.”

“You’re OK. Just a bit bruised. Go and see a doctor if you want but he won’t tell you anything different. Take it easy and you’ll be fine by the day after tomorrow. Now, pull your pants up and take a pew.”

I did as I was told and, as I was getting organised, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a cash box and a note book.

“First things first; let’s get the cash sorted. Now, let me see,” he said looking through the notebook. “Turning up, that’s eighty, three races in the main event, that’s another sixty which makes forty all together. Then there’s the two hundred for winning a post meet race plus tips totaling forty, sixty, twenty, sixty, eighty, forty, two sixty. I make that four sixty from which I take twenty five percent or fifteen leaving three forty five for you. Add on the original forty makes a grand total four hundred and eighty five. Tell you what, I did pretty well out of you last night so I’ll round it up to the full five hundred, can’t say fairer than that, can I?”

“Five hundred! Thank you, Mr H!” Suddenly Malaysian beaches seemed a heck of a lot closer.

He took a pile of bills and peeled off fifties and twenties galore until he had made up five hundred and then he handed it over. As I held the cash in my hand my balls didn’t seem to hurt so badly. I put the money away in my wallet.

“So, the next meeting,” Mr H started.

“Err… about that,” I cut across.

“What about it?”

I thought of the money in my wallet and my resolve faltered but, really, I had been all but castrated. “I’m not sure… I’m not sure I want to do it again.” I said after a while.

“Let me guess. You’re not too keen on giving Archie another shot at crushing your balls, is that it?”

“Something like that. I’d like to have children one day.”

“Yeah, he was a bit rough,” Mr H laughed. “But apart from that? Apart from Archie you didn’t seem to be having any problems at all. You seemed to be having a fair old time with Arthur and his friends. Blow jobs all round, wasn’t it?”

“Apart from Archie, the rest of it was… yeah, I guess it was OK,” I replied. I was far too confused about how I felt to explain it to myself, let alone Mr H. Mind you, even with Archie I was actually tempted. Five hundred quid! Malaysia, here we go! If I could pick up that sort of money then the new iPhone was also on the cards. But, whatever the cash, I knew I should just walk away. The only viable option was to take the five hundred and write everything else off to experience. Why was walking away so hard, why was there was part of me that didn’t want to?

“The thing is,” Mr H went on, “I’ve had quite a bit of interest in you. Quite a few said that they wanted to see you run in more races and were disappointed that you weren’t available at the party afterwards. As I said, it makes a change to have a pony who’s not covered in tats and track lines.”

“It wasn’t my fault I wasn’t available,” I protested.

“No, they understand that. They all heard about what Archie did. So, about the next meeting…”

I was tempted, sorely tempted. Five hundred quid! But the money was just the icing on the cake. If only… And then another twinge from my balls reminded me exactly why not.

“I’m sorry, Mr H,” I said as firmly as I could. “You said it yourself. I’m not really tough enough to be a pony boy. Archie… Archie really scared me last night.”

“Archie scares most people. Are you sure I can’t persuade you, really sure?”

Mr H seemed almost too keen to get me racing again. I was sure there was something he wasn’t telling me and the more I distrusted him the more I felt I had to get as far away as possible. As it was it took all but half an hour before I could extricate myself and make my way home.

And that should have been that. I’d had my walk on the wild side. I should leave it be, chalk it up to experience and be grateful I got out of with my balls attached.

But it seemed that leaving it be wasn’t an option. Five days later that, as I made my way to college, two bruisers came up to me, blocking my way into the building.

“Archie wants a word,” one said without any preamble.

I looked at the two goons and realised that they knew exactly what they were doing and, just as importantly, that I didn’t. Putting up a fight would be worse than useless. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to have a word with Archie. They marched me to a waiting car, put me in the back seat, and got in either side of me. The car pulled away and took us to a mini-cab firm somewhere in Barking. The goons manhandled me through to the garage around the back, the mechanics were told to fuck off and have a tea break, and there I was standing in front of Archie himself.

“Ah, Ben, thanks for coming to see me. I so wanted to have a little chat,” he said rather too sweetly. “You weren’t at last night’s race meeting. A little bird tells me you don’t fancy the racing any more. I don’t think that’s right, is it?”

I was shitting myself, not quite literally, but close enough. In a desperate attempt to keep things light I tried humour.

“I found… I found racing injurious to my health. Last time I went I nearly lost my balls.”

Archie smiled but not the sort of smile that reassures.

“Injurious to your health? You won’t go racing because you might get hurt? Oh, no, that’s not how it goes at all. It’s pretty simple. You’ll end up getting hurt if you don’t go. There’s a race meeting next week and, if you want to keep hold of your balls, you’re racing in it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Race meeting? But I told Mr H….”

“In which case you’d better go and untell him. Go round to his office and tell him you’ve changed your mind, sort of thing.”

“I guess I’ll have to,” I replied.

“Too damn right you have to. Look, sunshine, I’ve decided to take an interest in you. I’ve decided that you’re going to go back to racing and you’re going to do it under my orders. You’ll race just the way I tell you to, won’t you.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Oh, you’ll try a lot harder than that. Did you think that I hurt you? Last time, at the party, were your balls a little sore afterwards?”

“I… I couldn’t walk properly for a week.”

“Well that’s nothing to what I’ll do to you if you don’t do as you’re told. If you’re a good little boy then, maybe I wont have to hurt you again. But one slip, one little slip, and it will be far, far worse than last time. Do I make myself clear.”

“Yes, Mr Archie.”

He came and stood right in front of me, reached down and, inevitably, grabbed my balls and twisted.

“Please, Mr Archie, Sir….”

“What?”

Click on a star to rate this post

Average rating 3.7 / 5. Vote count: 3

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

4 thoughts on “Sucking Cock For Cash (Part 2)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *