Chapter 2.11 – Lost in the Hideaway
Dennis quickly discovered that The Hideaway wasn’t so much a bar, as a fucking maze. The hallway made a few turns, and then ended at a junction going left or right. The corridor was narrow, and barely lit. He stood there for a couple moments, waiting for his eyes to adjust, and then went right, trying to follow the sounds of what he assumed would be the crowd at the main bar. But after following the corridor for a little ways, he came upon a dead end with a sling hanging from the ceiling. A man clad in a rubber body catsuit was in it, another fisting him rather deep. The fister looked over at him, leering, and Dennis quickly retreated back down the hallway. Easy enough–he’d just go the other way at the junction.
But he never found the junction again. He couldn’t remember taking any turns or choices, but each time he turned a corner, it seemed he found himself in a loop, or a dead end, or some other obstacle he couldn’t seem to bypass. He was beginning to panic, sweat building up under his shirt from the heat of the place, and again, he felt that same need or hunger building up inside him. Feeling light headed, he took a seat on a little perch for a moment, unbuttoned the front of his shirt, and felt…something underneath it that didn’t seem like it should be there.
It was a leather harness. He didn’t own a single piece of leather in his whole wardrobe, aside from shoes. He gave the leather a tug, feeling it pull against him, and then attempted to loosen the buckles, but they refused to budge.
“Ah, I had a feeling it was gonna be you.” Dennis looked up at the voice and saw the same bouncer from the door looming over him–and blocking his only exit from where he was sitting. “Some guys said someone was running around the halls, didn’t look like he belonged, but it looks like you’re already fitting in a little more, eh?”
“I…I didn’t put this on. I don’t know where it came from,” Dennis said. “Can…you help me get out of here?”
“But you were so eager to get in earlier. Besides, if Pigtown wanted you gone, you’d be gone. I think you’re right where it wants you. I did warn you about the dress code though–so the rest of that is gonna have to go.”
The bouncer stepped into his space and started tearing away Dennis’s clothes, first his shirt, then his pants, leaving them as shreds on the ground. Similar to the harness, he saw that his underwear had become a leather jockstrap, and on his feet were not the sneakers he’d put on earlier, but a couple of black work boots.
“See, isn’t that better?” the bouncer said, grabbing hold of Dennis’ nips in his fingers, and toying with them, watching him wince and gasp. “I’d stay and play, but technically I’m on the clock, and Boss doesn’t like that. Maybe later, eh? I like my boys a little broken in anyway.”
The bouncer backed off and turned down the corridor, leaving Dennis to scramble down and try and reassemble the scraps of his clothes–but nothing was even there. It had all just vanished into nothing. It was impossible, but then, all of this was. He turned the corner and went after the bouncer, but he’d already slipped away into the dark, and Dennis found himself turned around again. Now, however, the corridors were not nearly as empty. They were full of men in leather and rubber gear, all of them leering at him, sniffing the air, following behind him until he came to another dead end.
“Where do you think you’re going, boy?” one of the men said. He stepped forward, a tall, burly fellow in leather vest and chaps, with a thick cock swinging between his legs. He pulled Dennis into him, and while he tried to will himself to fight the man off, as soon as the man laid his lips on him, something inside him roared to life, and he found himself passionately kissing the leatherman, as the others came around. He had no idea what this hunger was, this desire. The leatherman pushed him back onto a ledge, hauled up his legs, and Dennis felt his cock press against his hole. He hadn’t been fucked in years, and he tried to say something, ask him to go slow, but the leatherman worked the head in, and a swirl of pleasure and pain swirled through Dennis’s mind.
One after another, the men fucked him. Most were smaller than the leatherman had been, and so Dennis had no trouble taking each of them in turn. He had moments of clarity, thoughts that he should resist, that he couldn’t be doing this, but another cock would slot into him, and he’d be carried off on that same pleasure all over again. After the crowd had taken their turn, they left him on that ledge, ass drooling cum under him, and he stood up and hobbled away down the hallway–and there it was, the corridor. The bathrooms. The breakroom. The alley. He could run. He could get out. But the hunger, he was so hungry now, every fuck had only made him want it more, and so he turned and continued into the dark, now hunting–and it wasn’t long before he smelled the smoke, and found his way to where Kyle and Marshall were smoking cigars and kissing, a pig on the ground licking both of their boots, stopping only to look up and take the ash off their cigars as it accumulated.
“K-Kyle…” Dennis managed to say, but his voice felt so parched and dry all of a sudden.
The young man turned towards him in confusion, and in the dark, he struggled to recognize him at all. Dennis stepped closer into the red light, and Kyle’s eyes lit up. “Fuck, again?” he said with a laugh. “Hey Master, look who it is.”
Marshall turned to look at Dennis, and he felt, for a moment, that cloud of smoke clear, enough that he could recognize the older smoker’s face from…from the shop, and from Depot, though neither of those memories made much sense. Marshall sighed. “I told you, he must like you.”
“We just kissed once! I was just curious, I didn’t even like him that much.”
“Kisses mean different things to different people.”
The kiss in the garage. Dennis had tried to tell himself it hadn’t meant anything either, that Kyle didn’t mean anything to him. He’d just wanted to protect him, and care for him, and…and suck his cock, and beg him for his seed, and oh gods, this had been a mistake. The hunger was for Kyle, but not just Kyle. For this freedom, if that’s what this was, but Kyle was the root of it. That stolen kiss, he’d never felt so brave before in his life. No wonder he’d held onto it so hard, though he’d never been able to admit it. “Please, I…I don’t know why, I remember…can you tell me what’s happening to me?”
“Pigtown’s happening to you, friend,” Marshall said, “Like it happened to all of us. What do you think, should we help him out, Apprentice? Go on boy, play with him. He’s yours, make him what you want him to be.”
Kyle stepped up to Dennis, close enough that he could feel the heat of his cigar on his cheek. “You always treated me like a kid. Do I look like a kid to you?”
Dennis shook his head.
Kyle took a long draw off his cigar, wrapped one gloved hand around the back of Dennis’s head, and kissed him again–but it was nothing like the kiss he’d taken in the garage. He’d been timid before, anxious. He’d let Dennis guide him, and tease him. But this was forceful, rough. He pushed the smoke into Dennis’s lungs, and while he tried not to breathe it in, it drove deep anyway, flooding not just his body, but up into his mind as well, making him feel lightheaded and uneasy on his feet.
“You’re going to be the boy now,” Kyle said. “Cute little cub with a hungry little hole, looking for a Daddy to take care of you, and fuck you, and play with you. That’s what you are tonight.”
Dennis felt something in his shift, the smoke warping his body, filling his body out with a soft layer of fat as he lost a little height, his first few wrinkles smoothing out, his beard pulling in and becoming a sparse goatee as his hairline grew back to a point it hadn’t been in years.
“Nicely done, apprentice. You’re such a fucking natural.”
“I learn from the best.”
Dennis looked down at himself, at his strange body, at the two handsome Daddies in front of him, and he dropped to his knees, inched forward, and started sucking on Kyle’s cock. Marshall came around, lifted up his ass, and the two of them spitroasted him, and when they came, Kyle’s cum tasted and felt like smoke, and Marshall’s load swirled in his guts, into his veins, settling inside him like ash. They left, and Dennis tried to get them to take him with them, but Kyle stopped him. “Not tonight, pig. Tonight, I think you belong to The Hideaway, don’t you?”
Dennis…knew he was right, somehow. The bar claimed him, for violating its…its rules, though he couldn’t recall wearing anything other than what he had on now. He roamed the halls, circulating, stopping whenever he found a handsome Daddy perched in a corner to suck their cock and beg for a load, before moving on again, until he found himself at the bouncer’s booted feet again, looking up at him eagerly.
“See? Nice and broken now, aren’t you?”
Dennis nodded.
“Alright cub–come on home with me then, and let’s have some fun.”
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Bracken's Corner 