Mistaken Identity Ch. 05 by matt4use

Mistaken Identity Ch. 05 by matt4use

Explore Chapter 05 of 'Mistaken Identity,' an enticing gay erotic sex story that delves into passion, desire, and the thrill of unexpected encounters. Join the characters on a journey filled with sensual tension and emotional depth. Dive into the story now!<br/> Chapter Five

“Finale,” said Sir, stroking my head. There was more rummaging in the bag of tricks, and what came out was brandished before me. First was another butt plug but this time it was hollow. I was a bit alarmed at that, wondering what would go down there.

Not that I could do anything about it, chained as I was to their fucking-bench. I felt the plug in my ass pop out and this new one inserted before I guess my gape had time to close — certainly it went in without resistance and slotted in place: God, it made me feel vulnerable. Then the other butt plug was presented to me for cleaning. There was no doubt that I would so it. I slobbered my tongue over it, cleaning it as best I could, losing myself in the depravity.

Next, I was shown a complicated looking gag of some kind. Then I recognised it from porn videos I’d seen; it was a urinal gag. A collection tray at the front and a tube into the victim’s mouth — my mouth — to ensure not a drop of piss was wasted and it had nowhere to go but in my mouth. They fitted it to me and I made no attempt to struggle. Not that I could anyway. Sir leaned down and released the dog leash and I was able to move my head at last.

“You will need to lean your head back,” he explained, without any emotion. They carried on talking, gesturing towards me now and again, but I could not understand what they were saying. It made me feel like nothing more than a commodity, like a washing machine. Or at least, a cock washing machine… It also made me feel oddly calm, being talked about like this. That was hard to understand, but I guessed I would have time enough to pick through these events to try to understand them in the coming days. Right now, thinking was giving way to dumb acceptance.

Pavel came forward, grinning malevolently. He flopped his cock into the urinal tray and let go. The tray filled and I readied myself. It was strong but there was little time to taste. The liquid was coming fast and I had to swallow to make sure I could breathe properly, as my nose was quite bunged up after my exertions so far. The stream slowed and I could no longer see Sir or Erich. Then I realised why my new butt plug was hollow.

I couldn’t exactly feel the liquid in my ass but I felt the change of temperature and I felt the space filling up. I had no idea who was pissing in my ass but that’s what they were surely doing. Christ! They were pissing in me. Not on me — in me! I could hear laughter behind me and could see Pavel sneering at me. That man utterly despised me. They adjusted the position of my ass and then the sensation started over again. There was a lot of piss going in and it started leaking out, down over my balls and soaking through my freshly shaved areas and through the cage. The gag was taken from my mouth and put under my balls so the excess wasn’t wasted. When it filled it, they handed it to Pavel who delighted in squeezing my nose so my mouth opened and pouring it in. He needn’t have done that, but it felt quite nice being forced like that. I felt something jerk the end of my butt plug and guessed it was some kind of bung being inserted, keeping all that piss inside.

And then my ankles were being unclipped, along with my wrists. I was free. Sort of. Apart the nakedness, the plug, the cock cage, the general state of me. I was unchained, yet I stayed where I was, unwilling to move without permission. They talked among themselves again.

“Get up and walk over to the table,” ordered Sir. I got up, stiffly, realising I was quite bruised from the fucking I’d received. Walking was weird, and difficult as I was not only plugged but full of piss, even though there was some leakage. I waddled over to the table and turned to face them. Pavel got his phone out and made to video me, but Sir stopped him. Sir looked at me:

“You enjoy being fuck boy? Being piss pot? Yes?”

“Yes Sir,” I replied.

“We think you are total faggot.”

I remained silent. He bought over a bowl and fitted the urinal gag on me again. The pressed my shoulders, encouraging me into a squat.

“There. Stay,” he commanded.

He reached out and took the bung out the hollow butt plug. Everything flowed out and into the bowl: piss, spunk, bits of waste. I sank to my knees, presenting the gag to Sir, who laughed that cock-twitching derisive laugh once more. He started to pour it in and a leant my head back and swallowed everything. I felt the lowest creature on earth and revelled in it, knocking back the noxious fluid as if it were ale. It was vile. It was intoxicating. It was incredible. When it was done, I took off the gag and grabbed the bowl. I put it on the floor and started licking the inside of it. If I was going to be a faggot then I was going to be a good one. They stood watching me as I tongue-cleaned the bowl. Erich looked on with lust in his eyes, Sir just smiling. Pavel spat on the ground in contempt.

“Okay,” said Sir, decisively. “You sit”. He got out an old metal fold-up chair and put it up by a wall. I was about to sit when he stopped me and bent me forward. He withdrew the hollow tube from my ass. I could feel it gape before it started to close. I wished I could have seen it.

I sat and he knelt to remove my ankle and wrist cuffs and the dog collar, fiddling patiently with the padlock. I had not seen that Pavel had got a hose while he was doing this and suddenly Sir stood back and a stream of cold water hit me. It was being sprayed all over me. God, it was shocking, and I gasped as the cum and piss and slime and lube was blasted from my body. Pavel was laughing.

“Up”, said Sir. I stood and turned around. And then I bent over, and Pavel’s aim was sure as water jetted at my hole. I yelped but stayed where I was as the filth was washed from me. I stood up and turned again and the water stopped. I sat back down, shivering. Sir threw a ragged towel at me. I wiped my head and face and bits of my body. It had been horrible, but I did feel clean at least. I stopped shivering and looked at them. Sir motioned to the table and there was my bag, my clothes, all neatly folded and ready for me to wear.

“You get dressed in a minute. We talk first. You be naked for talk because you are a total faggot.” His voice was again factual, not judgemental.

“Yes Sir.” I sat, patiently waiting.

“My friend was going to take video and I stop him. You know why?”

I didn’t.

“Because I not want trouble. Only get no trouble when you know exactly what deal is. Yes? You understand?”

“I think so, Sir.”

“Good.” He glanced at the other two and leant his head down to light another cigarette. “Tell me if you liked today. If you had good time.”

This was difficult for me. I was clean and the sex was over. But I was naked before these men and being asked to tell them how I felt about the use and abuse I had had. I swallowed, fighting my natural inhibitions, then decided I would liberate myself with the complete truth. After all I had done so far today, what the hell was the point of modesty? That ship had long sailed. I began slowly:

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