A weekend in Hell part 2

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After the young guard left, Mr. Worthington buzzed his secretary. “Martha, I’m leaving the office for the rest of the day. I have an appointment this afternoon, and won’t be reachable. Please forward all calls to voice mail. I’ll see you Monday.” “Yes, Sir, Mr. Worthington; have a nice weekend.” “I will, Martha, thank you.”

He took the private stairs from his office down to the garage, climbed into the blue Bentley convertible, and pulled out into the early summer day. Fifteen minutes later he was winding down the boulevard of the very tony neighborhood in which he lived. He pulled up to a wrought iron gate, which slowly opened as he approached. Driving up the cobbled lane, he parked his car in front of the massive Tudor-style mansion, next to a late model SUV in the driveway. This had been his family home. After the death of his parents, he remodeled the entire place to his own liking, moving in almost two years later.

He pushed open the massive mahogany door and entered the travertine-tiled foyer. Climbing the stairs, he proceeded down the hall to the master bedroom. He entered the massive dressing room, which was the size of most people’s living rooms. He stripped down to his boxer briefs, admiring his taut, toned body in the mirror. Opening a wardrobe door, he pulled out a dark blue security uniform and dressed himself in it. After he was fully dressed, he headed back down the hall, down two flights of stairs to the basement, passing the wine cellar, theater room, game room and bar, and proceeded down a long gothic-arched hallway. He felt substantial pressure in his backside at this point, but dared not break wind. At the end of the hallway was a bookcase. Doorways to either side led to a guest bedroom and a small den. The hunky CEO reached up to a hidden latch and the bookcase swung open, revealing a large, dark room. Stepping through, he stood for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the almost total lack of light. He maneuvered around various slings, restraints, cages and the like. At the far end of the room was a huge screen on the wall. Three office chairs sat in front of the screen.

“You’re late,” came the voice from the darkness. “I’m sorry, sir. I had a meeting with Nate and it went later than I anticipated.” “Ah, Nate; what a good kid.” The figure moved into the dim light. A 5’9″ man with rusty reddish brown hair and a big nose moved forward. He looked, even in the very dim light, like he could be in law enforcement. “Tony and Ricardo thank you for the very generous payment they received for services rendered.” Drew hung his head in shame. “Are you ashamed of what you did to the two of us, or does it turn you on?” Greg asked in a firm authoritative voice. “Answer me!” “It turns me on, sir.” “I thought so. You were turned on thinking that we were up there all weekend in that booth helpless, struggling frantically, having to use the bathroom in our pants. Is that what you’re into, pig?” “Yes sir, that’s what I’m into. I was so turned on thinking of you up there; I could hardly sit across from Nate today without envisioning him struggling desperately, finally pumping a huge log into his pants.”

“I thought so,” Greg replied. “Come up here. Kneel down and stick your nose into the seat of that chair. That’s the one Nate was tied to.” He motioned to the chair on the left. Drew knelt down and put his face into the fabric, the intense aroma of Nate’s shit and piss still permeated the seat, causing the handsome CEO to spring an instant boner. Greg moved up, grabbing him by the head, pulling it away from the chair. He was dressed in his still foul uniform, the odor of his own waste filling the air. Drew looked up at him, “Sir, please let me smell you pants. Sir, I have to stick my nose in your filthy butt.” “Oh, you’ll smell it, all right.” He turned, grabbing the much larger man by the nape of the neck and pulling his face right into the soiled trousers. He felt the man groan in ecstasy as he inhaled the stink deeply.

“I’ve prepared a little present for you; sit down.” He motioned to the third chair. “You get to scent up a chair just like the two of us did,” he said, motioning to the two other chairs sitting there, the same two chairs the guards had been secured to. Drew sat down, and Greg secured his arms to the chair, just as Greg’s had been the prior weekend; he then zip-tied the hunk’s legs to the chair. As soon as he was immobile, he realized how desperate he was becoming. Needing some relief, he farted against the fabric of the seat. “Ah, that brings back memories. Just like Nate was doing Friday night.” He reached down and picked up a remote, pointing it at the screen and pushing the button. The 8 by 12 foot screen came to life; two familiar figures strapped to chairs filled the screen in high def resolution.

“I edited it down to the best stuff. I’ve been working on it for the last week. All those mini-cams and high -quality mics hidden around the booth really allowed me a lot of angles to catch the best of the weekend for you; enjoy.” The screen came alive with Nate squirming frantically in his chair. Greg kneeled down, unzipping Drew’s uniform pants and pulling out his ample dick. He began sucking his boss as Drew watched Nate’s increasing desperation, the cameras capturing the best angles of the struggling young lad, the hidden microphones capturing every single sound with amazing clarity. The camera captured Nate’s final seconds as he lifted his butt off the chair, reaching back to grasp Greg’s hands, the screen splitting, half showing the slow expansion of Nate’s seat, the other focusing on his tortured face, grimacing in a mix of relief and humiliation. Drew bucked upwards as Greg sucked the cock down to the base, the restrained man spooging the security guard’s throat as his own sphincter began to open, the turd restrained within starting to crown.

Greg reached his hand under Drew’s butt, feeling the expanding trousers, the sound evoking Nate’s and Greg’s own struggles. He pushed the man’s dick back into his pants even as he unloaded his log into the snug trousers, zipping him back up as he grunted. After the whole load was out, the exhausted CEO sat disgustedly back down, pressing the load into his ass-crack, the turd popping as it compacted. “Good job, pig; you’ve done well. I’ll come back when you have to piss and we’ll watch some more. You have a long weekend ahead of you. If you do well, I’ll let you try on Nate’s filthy uniform. It’s hanging over there in a plastic bag, all stinky for your pleasure. Enjoy.” “No, please, don’t leave me here; please let me go!” Greg smiled as he left the hunky man pleading, sitting in his own mess. He would be a changed man by the end of the weekend. This was going to be fun.

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