The warehouse door slammed shut behind him with a finality that made Marks stomach drop. He had come for what he thought was a quick cash job unloading crates, not this. The man who had hired himtaller, broader, with cold eyes and a voice like gravelstepped out of the shadows and locked the bolt.
You said you were straight, the man said, circling him. Well see how long that lasts.
Mark backed up until his shoulders hit the wall. Im not into guys. Im married. Just let me do the work and leave.
The man smiled without warmth. Strip.
When Mark refused, the first blow came fast and low, doubling him over.
Rough hands tore at his clothes until he stood naked, skin prickling in the cold air. The man shoved him to his knees and unzipped, the heavy cock already half-hard and flushed dark.
Open.
Mark kept his mouth shut until fingers twisted in his hair and forced the thick head past his lips. The taste was salt and skin and something bitter. He gagged as the man pushed deeper, using his throat like it belonged to him. Tears blurred his vision. Every time he tried to pull back, the grip tightened until he learned to take it, throat working around the invading length.
Thats it, the man growled. Straight boy learning to suck.
When he finally pulled out, Mark coughed and spat, but the man hauled him up and bent him over a stack of crates. A slick finger pushed between his cheeks without warning, breaching him. Mark shouted, the burn sharp and humiliating. Another finger joined the first, scissoring, stretching, preparing him for what was coming.
The mans cock replaced the fingers in one brutal thrust. Marks vision whited out. The stretch was too much, the angle wrong, pain radiating through his gut. The man didnt give him time to adjust. He fucked like he owned the right, hips snapping forward, one hand pinning Marks neck down while the other reached around to stroke his unwilling cock.
Youre getting hard, the man observed, voice thick with satisfaction. Straight men always do when theyre taken properly.
Mark hated the way his body responded, the traitorous rush of blood. The mans thrusts turned deeper, grinding against something inside that made Marks legs shake. Precome leaked from his own cock despite himself.
The man leaned over him, breath hot against his ear. Im poz. No load gets wasted tonight.
Marks blood turned to ice. Dontfuck, pull out
The mans answer was a savage thrust and the sudden pulse of heat deep inside. Mark felt every jet, the wet flood of it, the knowledge that it was tainted and deliberate. The man stayed buried, grinding through the aftershocks, making sure it took.
He pulled out only to flip Mark onto his back on the crates. Again.
The second round was slower, more deliberate, the mans cock sliding through the mess hed already left behind. Marks protests had gone hoarse. Every stroke dragged over his prostate until he was gasping, cock jerking untouched between them. When the man came again, Mark felt the fresh rush of heat and hated the way his own body clenched around it.
By the third time, Mark was on his back on the floor, legs hooked over the mans shoulders. The domination had shifted into something heavier, more intimate. The man held his gaze as he pushed in, slow and deep.
Say it, he ordered.
Marks voice cracked. Im straight.
The man smiled and fucked him harder. Not anymore.
He bred him a third time, grinding the poz load as deep as it would go. Mark came with a broken sound, untouched, stripes of white across his own stomach while the man filled him again.
When it was over, the man pulled out and watched the thick mixture leak from Marks used hole. He wiped two fingers through it and pushed them back inside, sealing it in.
Next week, same time, he said. Youll come back.
Mark didnt answer. He lay there, wrecked and leaking, the taste of the man still on his tongue and the knowledge of what had been forced into him settling like a brand. The door unlocked. The man left without looking back.
Mark stayed on the floor a long time, breathing through the ache, the shame, and the dark, unwanted spark that said he would return.
