About a week before I was to start my car trip to Colorado, I received a phone call from Andy who was now living in New York City and working at his first successful advertising job for a small company in Mid-Town. He asked if I could come up for the weekend and since I loved NYC, and more importantly had not seen him in almost six months I agreed.
When he greeted me at the train station I nearly did a double take. He was sporting a Don Johnson five-o-clock-shadow that added some depth to his otherwise boyish face. He’d also gotten a very conservative hair cut. I also noted that he seemed to have, like every other gay man in this city, been hitting the gym as his shoulders seemed broader and he looked like he had gained some weight in all of the right places. Finally, the last thing I noted was the suit he was wearing, this was obviously not something off the rack; he looked like a whole new person, gone was the skinny little boy next door that I had known for years, and his place was this intense young man, this hyper-yuppie.
“Jeez, you seem to have found the American Dream”, I said giving my pal a brisk hug and a peck on the cheek.
He smiled that All American grin of his and I was happy to see, that under this shiny new person, was the guy I’ve known all along.
We ate a late lunch at a deli just off Broadway and then we took a cab to his apartment in the Village. Once again, I was shocked; when we entered his pad a loft on the top floor of an old pre-war building that looked down on a park. The interior was stark with sleek leather furniture and fashionable Ansel Adams prints on the walls—my god, he had arrived!
We sat in the living room and he gave me a beer and we talked about Chris for a few minutes, and his impending marriage; “I still can’t wrap my brain around that one,” he said toying with the label on his bottle of Coors Light, “Chris was the guy who broke me in, so to speak, he was the one that coordinated most of our little four-ways back in the day…how does someone go from being a rump ranger to a pussy hound over night?”
“What’s even worse”, I said eyeing the Bose Sound System that sat next to me “is that you just used the terms ‘pussy hound’ and ‘rump ranger’ in a sentence!”
We laughed and changed the subject and talked about a million different things and then Andy told me about ‘The Broker’s Club’… It seems that my buddy found himself a like-minded group of young Madison Avenue upstarts that were all gay and furthermore felt so constrained by their nine to five lives that they engaged in some pretty intense leather scenes. I was intrigued to say the least.
“Man, it is the fucking best,” Andy said loosening up his tie, “Why don’t you come tonight with me? You can watch, it’s ok if you don’t want to join in. I mean it’s a very extreme scene, lots of bondage and S and M and verbal humiliation. Tonight we are all meeting up at this one guys place, he’s got a fully equipped play room.”
I finished my beer and put it down and said, “Just the thought of this is getting me hard”.
He smiled and got down on his knees in front of me, “Ok, then let’s take care of that now” and proceeded to give me a great blow job there in the living room. I smiled and sat back as an old friend bestowed a wonderful welcome gift on me.
That night we packed into a cab. Andy wore the tightest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen anyone slip into and, despite the warm weather, a leather motorcycle jacket. He had no shirt on and since he kept the jacket unzipped, the time he’s spent at the gym lately was obvious; “When did you get pecs?” I whispered to him in the back seat of the cab, he squeezed my crotch and smiled and then told the driver that we would get off at the next corner.
We walked up six flights of stairs in an anonymous brown stone building until we got to number 602 where the night’s festivities were to be held. Andy knocked and the door opened slightly, a man wearing leather chaps answered the door and said, “Brother A. is here, and he’s brought a guest!” and then ushered us in to a small living room where a group of very attractive men of all shapes and size and in various states of dress and undress were milling about . When we were noticed, voices were raised and salutations shouted. Andy turned around and said, “Are you going to be alright, I have to go with him,” motioning to a very hot hairy chested little guy with a mean face .
“Sure, when in Rome” I joked but really, I was a bit overwhelmed at everything.
I wandered if I was dressed for the occasion since I was not wearing leather, but soon was put to ease when an older guy, who looked vaguely familiar came my way and shook my hand. He told me his name was Cliff and that Andy had said I came to watch. Just then I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, it was the tough looking little guy…damn, he was hot up close, he sort of resembled Matt Dillon but edgier. “Shirt off and cock out,” he demanded. I obliged and the tough guy sized me up and then reached for my dick and yanked it, “Nice cock – you are gonna have a good time, man”, his Brooklyn like accent really added to the whole effect.
Then I saw the other men come up and each one took a quick tug at my penis until finally by the time the last one, some blond guy in a biker’s cap and little else greeted my cock, it was fully erect. The tough guy, who I noticed now had dog tags hanging from a chain around his neck, said, “Ready men?” and with that, we were all ushered into the hallway and then to a large dark room illuminated only by candles and a few dim lights from the ceiling. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I could make out a sling hanging from the rafters as well as an assortment of belts and whips that were secured from a wooden plank on the wall.
Someone, it might have been Cliff, guided me to an overstuffed sofa where I sat with a clear view of everything. The little guy, who I know dubbed, “Sarge” stood center in the room and said gruffly, “Welcome to the Brokers club tonight gentlemen.” No one said anything in response and then he added, “Tonight, A becomes one of us and as is the rule, he will be tested and used as we all see fit. If he maintains then we welcome him truly as member and a brother” and with that, he stood aside and I saw someone bound with chains that hung from the ceiling, a tightly muscled smallish body arms stretched to heaven. It was Andy.
I did not even have time to digest this when I saw Sarge walk up to him and savagely punch him twice in the gut. Andy’s head flew back but he said nothing and with that, Sarge gave him one more punch, and I heard some of the other men laugh, and then a deep voice boomed from somewhere, “Hurt that little fucker!” I tried to look and see who had said this but the back of the room was dark, and when I turned back to look dead center I saw Sarge taking a thick strap, and he began to flog Andy across his back. Now the others were going crazy, cat-calls and whistles were coming from all directions as Sarge continued the beating.
I did not what do. I wondered if this was going too far, this did not seem right and yet, I could not deny that my own cock was as hard as steel and that every time Sarge inflicted more pain on my buddy, I got more excited.
Sarge finished the beating and then two other guys went up to him and one of them attached a pair metal tit clamps to his nipples and then gave them a yank that caused Andy to howl out loud, and this made the room even more insane, I could feel, I could sense the sexual energy all around me as the madness continued…
…some one had tied a rope around his balls and then lead it to his neck, another guy used him as human punching bag, another guy took a cat-o-nine-tails to his chest, somebody else stood behind him and choked him with a massive forearm until he almost passed out…it went on like this for about an hour…
When they were done, Sarge undid the chains and led Andy to a crude wooden construction horse and laid him across it. Then, two by two, guys came up and fucked him in the ass and then in the mouth, each couple would spend about five minutes or so violating him and then let two more come up. I almost came watching this.
Just then, someone sat down next to me, it was Sarge, “Wanna join me and help finish him off?” He did not have to ask me twice.
Sarge faced me, his huge cock aiming at Andy’s swollen lips. Some one slipped me a condom and I sheathed my member and spit in my hand rubbed it on my cock, and like some kind of crazed animal I went at it; plugging away with such abandon I felt like a maniac. Soon the others gathered around, I could feel hands all over me. Fingers pinching my tits, strong grips on my shoulders, some one pushing me from behind at the small of my backwhile he yelled, “Deeper man, deeper, makes this fucker scream!” Somebody else leaning over and kissing me and every now and again I would see Sarge and the group of men around him doing similar thing to accentuate this lunacy.I came when some guy reached behind me and squeezed my nut sack, everything went gray for a second and I heard a dozen voices cheer in hyper masculine approval, like this was some kind of football game or something, but it worked, their voices made my orgasm ten-fold in it’s intensity and I kept pounding his ass even when I was done coming, even then I could not stop this assault, I went at it until I felt myself being pulled away and restrained. I got my bearings again and soon I was in a group of men and they were all jerking off and when I got my act together I saw that they were surrounding Andy who was lying on the floor on his back and they were coming all over him and he was climaxing also; and seed flew everywhere and covered Andy like icing on a cake.
***
When it was over, Sarge took Andy into his arms and kissed him on the mouth and said, “I am proud of you, brother, you are one of us now” and then he gently helped him to his feet and out of the dark room.
Still somewhat dazed I followed the others into the living room where there were towels and cold drinks laid out. I cleaned myself up as best I could and swallowed some iced tea and then fixed my clothing. Someone yelled out, “Bathroom is empty” and I made a mad dash and washed my face about a dozen times.
When I walked back out into the living room, you’d have thought that a cocktail party was winding down. Men talked, some smoked, and one guy was telling another about some stock investments. I went looking for Andy and found him in the bedroom where Sarge was gently sponge bathing him. He had a few band-aids on him, one on his forehead and a couple on his legs and back, but I was expecting worse. Andy saw me and that smile lit up his face through swollen lips, “Thanks, pal”, he said, “I wanted a friend here to seal the deal”.
Sarge gave him a kiss on the forehead and then came up to me and offered me his hand and gave me a firm shake, “Look.” he said, “you seemed to enjoy yourself and all, so anytime your back in the city, why not stop around for a party.” And with that he slipped me a business card that read, “James O’Sullivan, Public Relations, Stanford Corp. Inc. On the back was a penned in phone number and above it a quick scrawl that read, “Brokers Club”.
I slipped the card into my wallet and helped Andy get dressed.
Later that evening, Andy asked me to sleep with him in his bed and we talked about the night’s events. He said that he hoped that I would not judge him and his friends too much, they were just blowing off steam and that everything that happened tonight was consensual. I told him that he did not have anything to explain to me, ever. Then I took him in my arms and held him gently until he drifted off to sleep and I lay next to him and listened to the city’s dull roar until I also drifted off into oblivion …
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