The Night I Gave Myself Away in the Dark Room

My thumb slid endlessly across the mobile screen. I’d had the app open since I closed the work laptop, and another Wednesday shut away at home had left me with that urgency I know so well, the one that needs an outlet somewhere. Among blurry avatars and nearly identical descriptions, a profile with no public photo appeared, just an alias: Damián, 33.

He’d sent me a fire emoji and I replied on instinct. The private photo that came after made me close the conversation for a second to breathe. Dark, broad-shouldered, sharp jaw, the look of a guy who knows exactly what he wants. The conversation heated up fast: what I liked, what he liked, what he would do to me if we met. In less than ten minutes he’d already proposed a meeting point, the dark room of a sex shop twenty minutes from my building, on a street in the neighborhood I only knew from passing through.

I didn’t think about it much. I changed my underwear, sprayed cologne on my neck, and went down the stairs before my head had time to get cold feet.

Damián was waiting for me leaning against the wall outside the shop, a cigarette half-burned between his fingers. He smiled as soon as he saw me and, without quite introducing himself, laid his open hand between my shoulder blades. That firm palm loosened the knot in my throat at once.

—You made it —he said in a deep voice that sounded practiced—. Let’s go inside, that’s what you came for.

He put an arm around my waist as if he’d been doing it for months and led me to the counter. While the clerk looked us over, Damián leaned toward my ear and dropped a promise that went straight to my gut:

—Just imagine it. You on all fours, me opening up that tight ass while you beg me for more. Or maybe I hand you off to a couple of guys so they can fill every hole until you’re dripping.

My face burned, my jeans felt tight, my legs a little less steady. I nodded without answering and let him pay for both entries. The corridor leading to the room was lit by a red bulb at the end of the ceiling. The music, far off, sounded as if it were coming from another room. The air smelled of sweat, cold tobacco, and something thicker, something I recognized without wanting to recognize it.

—That’s it, handsome —murmured Damián, sliding his hand from my shoulder to the back of my neck—. You’re doing very well. Do you like it so far?

My mind was moving too fast to answer. His fingers combed through my hair in a gesture that was at once paternal and possessive. In the reddish dark, you could make out still silhouettes, others moving against a wall, others on their knees. The low sounds of encounters mixed with my own breathing. When I felt pressure on my shoulder, I knelt down without arguing, right there, a few steps from the entrance.

—Remember —he said, stopping for a second—, you’re going to obey without asking. When you’re ready, you say “yes, sir,” and I’ll take you to your first client. Whatever he wants to do to you, you’re going to love it.

Client. The word struck me as odd at first, but my body didn’t ask questions. My cock was half-hard, straining in my underwear, and a thread of fluid was already staining the fabric.

—Yes, sir —I whispered.

A man emerged from the shadows, older, fifty-something, stocky, gray-haired. He was not the type I would have messaged on the app, not even close. He had a roughness to him, with the concentrated smell of a whole day’s sweat, and summer outside wasn’t helping. Damián stroked my head again and, with a “he’s all yours,” gently pushed me toward him. The man’s hands grabbed my hips and pressed me against his groin.

—On your knees, slut —he growled in a rough voice.

I already was, so I only lowered my head. He pulled down the zipper and what came out was enormous, a thick circumcised cock shining with the fluid coating it. My mouth watered before I could stop it, and that surprised me more than anything. I took it between my lips and started slowly, almost carefully, warming it up, feeling my jaw stretch with every inch. He didn’t wait long. His hands clamped onto my hair and set the pace, driving in until he hit the back of my throat. I choked two, three times in a row.

—Fuck, swallow like the little whore you are —he roared, his balls slapping my chin—. Where did you get this bitch? —he asked over my head.

I didn’t hear Damián’s answer, only his approving murmur, but that murmur was enough for me. Every low praise shut me off a little more from the outside world. The rhythm picked up, every vein in that cock throbbing against my palate, until one last shove left me breathless and filled my mouth with a salty, hot liquid. The man held my nape so I wouldn’t pull away and, with a hard gesture, forced me to swallow every last drop. He let out a low laugh, pulled up his pants, and disappeared the way he had come.

***

Damián came over unhurriedly. His cock was out, poking through the zipper, swollen but still not fully released. He rested his hand on the top of my head. I was still on the floor, not daring to stand without an order. Part of me —small, distant— wondered how far the night was going to go; the other was focused on the thumb stroking my cheek.

—You’re mine tonight, right? —he said.

I nodded frantically. I said it too, “I’m yours,” and I had never said that to anyone before. The door to one of the private rooms creaked open at that moment. Another man came out, this one quite a bit younger, thirty-something, muscular, shirtless, with a cock already out, thick and veined, standing out against the red-lit corridor. He had a brutish face, one of those faces that make you decide whether you want to look or not.

—He’s next, baby —Damián said firmly—. Make me proud. Make me look good.

I hesitated for a second. That dick was even bigger than the first one. And had these guys really not agreed beforehand? Did “clients” literally mean clients? Damián stroked my head again and the doubt evaporated, the way everything evaporates when a firm hand decides for you.

I leaned in and rubbed my lips against the tip. Another taste, this time it wasn’t just cock, there was something else, I didn’t want to think about where it had been before. Calloused hands grabbed my neck and, with none of the first man’s softness, shoved in deep. It stretched my throat until it brought tears to my eyes. Every inch was a wall of hot flesh pulsing against my tongue, and Damián’s whispers beside me —“that’s it, like that, you’re doing so well”— pushed me to open wider, not to resist.

This one didn’t last as long as the first. And unlike the first, he did let me taste it. Two thick spurts filled my mouth, salty, bitter, and I swallowed them like a good obedient boy. He shoved me away so hard I nearly sat on my ass, turned around, and left through the same door I’d come in through a while before. I’d already lost track of time.

***

—Looks like the new toy still has batteries for another round —said a voice behind me.

When I turned, I realized a semicircle had formed around me. I didn’t know how many there were. Five, six, maybe more. Damián was at one end. In front of me, a guy in his forties, calm smile, eyes that looked amused rather than hungry. He had his cock in his hand, curved upward, swinging as he stroked it. He didn’t have the urgency of the first two.

—Hi, handsome —he whispered, crouching to my height—. Your friend told me you’re a good boy. Let’s see if that’s true.

He started with the small things. He traced circles with his fingers on the inside of my thigh. He nibbled lightly at my neck, leaving warm saliva marks that cooled instantly. He worked his tongue down to one of my nipples and sucked it for a long time, slowly. When he put a finger in my ass, he barely had to force it.

—Fuck, you’re tight —he laughed, curling the finger and finding that spot that made my own cock jump all on its own.

He added a second, then a third. He worked them inside, stretching me patiently. Around us, the others were jerking off while watching, some of them openly. My moans filled the room before I could hold them back. Damián watched from beside a column, wearing that satisfied owner’s smile that already had me completely hooked.

When he pulled his fingers out, I felt empty in a ridiculous way. He set the tip of his cock right at my entrance. It was thicker than the second man’s, though shorter, and just feeling it there I knew I’d be wrecked the next day.

—Beg for it, bitch —he spat, rubbing the slick tip around the hole, mixing his fluid with the remnants of the previous loads.

—Please, fuck me, I need it —slipped out before I could think about it. It was almost the first thing I’d said out loud all night.

He pushed in centimeter by centimeter. It burned, it hurt, and still I pushed back. When he was all the way in, he stayed still for a second, letting me adjust, and then he started moving. At first with slow back-and-forth strokes, then with deep thrusts that slapped against my skin. My own cock thudded against my belly without anyone touching it, leaving a bright thread on the floor.

—Take dick, little piece of shit —he growled.

—You’re doing so well, baby —Damián murmured at the same time, leaning in to stroke my cheek while the other man was wrecking me. The mix of the two tones, the rough one and the tender one, was driving me crazy.

The pace turned frantic. Wet slaps, the smell of sex, the circle of men jerking off in silence. Part of me kept trying to think: “you’re letting complete strangers use you, someone could record this, someone could recognize you tomorrow.” The other part only wanted Damián to stay pleased. I wanted to be the best. I wanted him to keep stroking me.

Damián leaned in and kissed me deeply, mixing the bitter remnants of the first two with his saliva. That was the limit.

—You’re mine to share, but you’re always rewarded —he whispered in my ear.

And I gave in completely. I pushed back to take every thrust from the other man. He let out guttural grunts, almost unable to form full sentences anymore: “fuck, your ass is drying me out.” He changed the angle and hit something inside me that made me scream. Damián, without raising his voice, ordered him:

—Wank him while you fuck him.

The man obeyed. He grabbed my cock and started pumping me in time with his thrusts. His fingers slipped on the fluid I’d been building up all night. The pressure became unbearable. My ass tightened rhythmically around his cock without me deciding anything, and, with one last deep thrust, I felt the hot stream spilling inside me. Four, five pulses, I didn’t count them well. I came after that, almost immediately, without having to do anything at all. The man’s hand kept pumping gently while he emptied into me.

—You’ve been perfect —Damián murmured, kissing my forehead.

But the night wasn’t over.

Before I could catch my breath, Damián turned me around and grabbed me by the hips. He drove his cock into my ass in one thrust, all the way into the already stretched, already full, already trembling hole, until he hit bottom.

—Take it all, little bitch —he growled near my ear, with the same dominant voice he’d had at the entrance.

It wasn’t as thick as the previous one and, besides, it found a path lubricated by everything I’d already got inside me. My balls contracted on their own the moment I felt him, and within a few minutes I felt heat flooding my insides again, mixing with what was already there, marking me from the inside out. I came a second time without anyone touching me, just from the weight of his body on mine and his fingers digging into my hips.

When he pulled out, he did it slowly. One hand landed flat on one ass cheek, hard, but it sounded more like a stamp than a punishment.

—Now you’re mine —he whispered—. Go home, we’ll talk later.

He pulled his pants up, kissed my forehead again, and left through the door we’d come in together. He left me there, on the floor, with a sore jaw, marked knees, everything inside me slowly dripping back out, and the circle of men around me still jerking off as they watched me, none of them coming any closer. I lowered my head, closed my eyes for a second and, not quite knowing why, smiled.