This story contains mature content and adult themes. If you object to any of this, or it is illegal for you to read such things under the law of the country you are in, then read no further. This story is based on a fictionalised version of Ben and any resemblance to any other person past or present is purely coincidental.
Ben and I go way back - to me he's always been my 'little bro'. This story started out with me coming up with a paragraph to try to embarass him. Turns out he wasn't overly uncomfortable so I pushed it further and before I knew it I had a series of stories starring Ben! I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have writing them. Ben's been a fantastic sport in allowing this project to go ahead - love ya little bro!
The Adventures of Ben Bronx: Night Shift
Ben walked down the back alley peering at the numbers scrawled onto the buildings. He stopped and glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand, then back up to the number in front of him. They matched.
He knocked at the door and waited patiently. He really didn't want to take on extra work but he had decided it was best to move house after accidentally breaking into his neighbour’s home half naked and subsequently being used as a sex toy. He needed more money to make that a reality and he figured a few hours stocktaking wouldn’t take too much out of him.
Deciding he had waited a sufficient time so as not to seem impatient, he knocked again, harder this time. As he did, the door swung open a bit, letting out a small creek. Ben pondered on the proper etiquette for this situation, before deciding that time was money. He pushed the door open, wandering through, offering an apologetic ‘hello?' as he did.
His eyes took a moment to adjust. It was quite dark but not pitch black, and the good news was this was most definitely a store room. Racks and shelves stacked with boxes filled the space. To Ben's relief, it didn't look to be a big store room.
He called out 'hello? again', the international signal that although he was on someone's property, he wasn't a burglar.
A door opened and light flooded through the gap. A man appeared, silhouetted by the contrast. There was a moment of tension suspended in the silence. Finally, the silhouette spoke: "Hello?"
"Oo. Er, hello,” Ben replied. “I'm here for the job?"
"Oh. Great, just in time. You could have used the front entrance, though!" The stranger beckoned Ben towards him. “Anyway, step over here."
Ben moved forward into the light, catching a glimpse of the lad for the first time. The Jordan 1s on his feet were just perfect, and as Ben scanned up his tight blue jeans, he lingered on the obscene bulge a little too long. He quickly continued up past the grey Nike Techfit hoodie to the lad’s face. He was hot, just Ben's type; a bit younger than him, probably mid-twenties.
"Here for some extra cash then? Done this before?" the lad asked.
"Yeh," answered Ben.
In life—yes, always, thought Ben. But for stocktaking? “Umm, no,” he answered.
"Not the chatty type, eh?” the lad responded with a wry smile. “Probably a good thing! Sign this please," he said proffering Ben his phone.
Ben casually glanced at the screen; it was a standard disclaimer. Similar to ones he had signed before. He drew his finger around on the screen to make an approximation of his signature. He looked at the result and shuddered; it was terrible. It just wouldn't do. But before he got the chance to say, “Erm, could I just, um . . .” the phone was whisked away faster than it arrived.
The lad had moved behind Ben making 'mhmm' noises. Ben was feeling a little self-conscious at the attention, as well as a tad confused on what was happening.
"Perfect,” the stranger said, nodding, then added, “Take off your jacket."
Ben obediently unzipped his jacket, pulled his arms out of the sleeves, and handed it to the lad, who placed it on a nearby shelf.
Ben obeyed and a second later his black Nike tee had been whipped over his head. The lad deposited it on the shelf behind him with Ben's jacket, firmly out of reach.
Ben flinched at the sudden half nakedness he found himself in and gave the stranger a questioning look. "Um?"
"You want the money, yeh?"
"Well, you’ll need to dress properly."
Ben flinched again as the lad's hand clenched his buttock. That was a bit forward, Ben thought, and getting a bit weird. He was tempted to protest but he needed the money and the lad was hot.
"Kick off your trainers."
Ben obeyed again, removing his feet from the black Nike Tn3s, revealing his white socks.
The lad stepped back around in front of Ben. He was a tall lad too, so they faced each other eye to eye. The next thing Ben knew, his belt was being undone. Realising he still had his arms up, he dropped them quickly to try to prevent the next indignity. But it was too late, and a gentle—but unmistakably firm—‘aa aa aah’ from his undresser prevented any more protest.
A bead of sweat appeared on Ben’s forehead as the lad smiled sweetly at him. 'Ooo' was all he could manage as the button of his jeans audibly popped open and his fly unzipped. A moment later, his jeans were sliding down his thighs as the lad squatted in front of him.
Yielding to the inevitable, Ben lifted one leg and steadied himself by resting his hands on the lad’s shoulders. The connection made him instantly hard, his cock tenting out the neon green Under Armour trunks he was sporting.
With a bit of effort, the slim fit jeans were soon removed. Then, the lad helped Ben get his trainers back on. This was certainly the strangest job interview Ben had ever encountered.
"Excellent! This way,” the lad said, motioning him into the other room. “Let's get you dressed!"
Ben followed, embarrassed by his state of undress, but completely enthralled by the hot lad and keen to get something on.
Upon reaching the other room Ben let out a little 'oh'. This was an 'adult' store, no doubt about it, and didn’t carry the sort of stock he had thought he would be spending the evening 'taking'. The thought of handling multiple dildos made him blush deeply; he really was quite the sheltered boy.
"Right, let's get your modesty covered!" said the hot lad cheerfully.
Ben sighed internally. Yes, his modesty most definitely needed covering, he thought. It was the most sensible thing said since he arrived.
"Turn around," commanded the lad. Ben eagerly complied, but before he could blink his head was covered with a leather hood. It had a hole for the mouth but none for his eyes.
"Um . . ." Ben mumbled, really thinking he should protest but somehow unable to get the words out.
"Now to pose. Kneel."
Ben thought this had gone beyond a joke but the hands of the hot lad gently pushing down on his shoulders sent his heart racing. He complied and before long was on his hands and knees.
"Okay, almost there."
Good, thought Ben, this stock was hardly going to count itself!
He felt something wrap around his ankle and be pulled tight, followed by a loud click. The same thing happened with the other leg. He waggled one and found it firmly locked in place. Wtf! he thought.
"Um?" was what actually came out.
"They are going to love you. You're so nice to look at."
There was a lot for Ben to unpack in two short sentences. He decided to start with the easiest; he wasn't nice to look at. Good, right, onto the next . . . Wait—'They'?
Before he knew it the same procedure had been carried out on his wrists and just above the knees. He was absolutely locked into this position.
Then he heard the shop door open.
"Oh!" exclaimed a new voice. "Oh my! That is quite the tableau, Deven. Bravo!"
"Haha, I know, right? One of the best ever, I think. I mean, he's got a lovely arse."
"Well, yes, but do not undersell yourself on the staging,” the new voice replied. “So creative!"
Ben's head was spinning. He was at a loss to understand what was happening. How on earth had he got himself in a situation where people were complimenting him? It was all very unsettling, he concluded.
"Might I just make one small suggestion?" purred the new person. Ben heard some unidentifiable movement before the man spoke again. "This . . ."
"Oh, yes!” Deven replied enthusiastically. “That is a great idea!"
"Oh, it is nothing, merely the icing on an exceedingly good cake . . ."
Just as Ben opened his mouth to say 'um' a ball gag was stuffed in his mouth and fastened in place.
"Oh, he is very well trained,” the second man approved. “I could certainly offer him a position.” He laughed, then added, “Or two."
Several more people entered the shop and immediately made appreciative noises. Ben was less concerned about being fastened down, more about the insanity of people enjoying looking at him. Were they mad? Well, obviously, Ben surmised.
"Right, gentlemen, take your seats and we can begin!” Deven announced. “As you are aware, the model's identity will be kept secret, but I'm sure you'll enjoy transferring the likeness of his wonderful body to your pads. Obviously, I have seen his face and I can confirm he's quite lovely."
Ben spluttered through the ball gag in his mouth. This was a nightmare; there were far too many compliments to deal with. Even one was enough to make him uncomfortable.
"Are we ready for the reveal?"
Deven’s question was answered with a chorus of affirmative noises. Ben felt a cold sensation that started against his lower back and slid down over his anus. His eyes widened as he felt his boxers fall open. Moments later, he felt all the fabric drop away from his body. His cock, which until then for some reason had been rock hard, wilted as he realised he was fully naked in front of strangers. only consolation was that his own eyes were covered.
"Well, it's a nice arse for sure,” one unfamiliar voice spoke up. “Nice cock too. Could do with some warming up though?"
This really was his worst nightmare; uncontrolled compliments!
"I have an idea! Did he have any limits?" asked the first gentleman who came in.
"Nope," replied Deven.
Ben sensed a wave of heightened excitement ripple through the room. More movement ensued and various hmm-ing and ahh-ings before there was a large scraping noise.
"Right, everything in place? Time to plough on then!" proclaimed the initial customer.
Before Ben could even wonder what the man meant by ‘ploughing on’, he moaned as his arse cheeks were unceremoniously spread open and a firm wet object nudged against his hole. The moan turned into a scream as the large object pushed through into his body. He couldn't believe it; they had just shoved a dildo up his arse! And not a small one either!
"Okay, fire it up!" ordered Deven.
For a moment Ben was utterly confused. That was until the hum of a motor started and the dildo pulled back, then began thrusting forward. To Ben’s mortification, his cock began to grow at the sensation.
"Yup, that's working!" chortled an unfamiliar voice. Additional approving voices lustily agreed.
The fucking machine continued its perfect penetration of Ben’s hole and now he was undeniably sporting an impressive full erection.
"Oh, I gotta get some of that!" quipped a voice he hadn't heard before. Only he had, just not tonight. Under the hood, for which he was entirely thankful, he went bright red; the voice belonged to his boss from his proper job. He was a little older than Ben, and although Ben usually went for the younger type, he had to admit his boss was easy on the eye and always wore incredibly hot trainers and unbelievably tight jeans. Nothing was left to the imagination.
Just as he thought it couldn't get any worse, Ben felt a pair of warm, wet lips encompass his cock and then eagerly slide down the length of his shaft. 'My boss is sucking me!' was all Ben could think in between moaning and whimpering. And all while he was being relentlessly ploughed from behind! He was all but overwhelmed by the flood of sensation, front and back, that engulfed his mid-body, and all he could do was hang his head with the shame of it all.
Before long, he felt his body tighten, and the unexpected and embarrassing mouth around his penis abruptly withdrew. In the next instant, with a loud moan bordering on a triumphant shout, his cock exploded. Such was the force that ribbons of cum splattered his slightly hairy chest. Two even reached the leather mask and worse, his mouth. His body continued to spasm violently as the rest hit the floor with a resounding splat.
"Goodness!" exclaimed the initial punter. "Quite the show!" Other voices chimed in, including that of Ben’s boss, who was basking in the glory of the role he had played.
The machine was switched off but the dildo-clad thrusting arm was not withdrawn from Ben’s ruined hole. Ben was aware that a long string of cum was dangling from his cock.
"Right, I think it's time to start the artistic portion of the program,” Deven announced. “Your hour begins!"
Ben heard the collective scribble of pencils as he fought back the urge to drift off to sleep.
* * *
Ben stepped gingerly back into the alley. He looked ruefully at the obscenely short shorts he was wearing; his own clothes taken as souvenirs by the budding artists. The sleeveless top wasn't much better, but his mind kept wandering back to the £500+ in tips the hugely appreciative audience had given him. The money was tucked inside his new jockstrap as there weren’t any pockets on the rest of the outfit.
He hoped he could get back to his car and into the house without anyone seeing him. That would be shocking, both for himself and whomever had the misfortune to see him, he thought. He crossed his fingers for luck and started to leave. As he did, he spotted something on the opposite side of the alley. With a sinking feeling, he looked back to the door he had just exited and then to the door across the narrow passageway. It was the same number.
He checked his phone and realised the alley serviced two different streets; they both backed on to it. He had knocked on the wrong door!
Part of him was gutted that this was all his fault, part was happy that he'd made so much money.
The remaining part wondered if he'd ever be able to sit down again.
The Adventures of Ben Bronx: Night Shift by sneaked666
Edited by sz1415sneakers