On our fifth anniversary, Bill and I bought a ton of red and black leather gear. We bought harnesses, chaps, biker pants, armbands, boots, caps, jockstraps, the whole kit and kaboodle. We had the pricier pieces tailored to fit really well, and we joked that we were about to become fisting debutantes. For a year or so, we’d been talking about getting into the leather scene and decided we wanted to attend some fisting events. We both felt like we’d been spending too much time to ourselves. We went to the gym regularly and restaurants once a week or so, but other than that, we didn’t get out much. So we talked it through and decided we wanted to get out and meet friends with mutual interests, especially fisting and other kinds of assplay.
Frankly, I wanted to show off. We were both pretty hot and looked really good in our gear, especially when we were greased up and wrecking our holes. I wanted the world to see us fisting each other. Bill had gotten to the point where he could take both of my fists at once, but his hands were too big for me to take the two of them. So we decided to find someone to help me out with doubles. Beyond that, if I sat on his arm, I could take him almost to the elbow. If he was on all fours, I could get in him up to either of my biceps. I wanted someone to see those feats.
We did a lot of research. We went to fisting nights at leather bars and clubs in the tri-state area. We participated in some activities, but mostly just stood around and watched, introducing ourselves to men we found interesting and attractive. After a few months we met a group of really nice guys in our approximate age group. One of our requirements was that we didn’t want to be around a lot of drugs. Poppers, weed and alcohol were as much as we could tolerate, and as I’ve mentioned before, I have never been particularly fond of poppers.
After passing an informal interview process and attending a party to mix with applicants and members, we were invited to join. Basically, they were sussing us out, making sure we were serious about fisting and that we weren’t completely crazy.
There was a particularly mellow vibe in this group. Although the guys were quite diverse in terms of race, body type, financial background, profession and country of origin, they were uniformly some of the sweetest men I’ve ever met. That is, until they got in their gear and were ready to play. Then they became fist pigs of the highest order. Membership was kept to sixty men, give or take, which was a manageable number for the guys who coordinated everything. It helped that not all of them lived in New York or attended every event. During the interview and mixer, we found out they preferred everyone to be versatile or aspiring to be. You could have your inclination one way or the other, but you couldn’t hog the slings or keep your hole unwrecked forever. Since Bill and I were completely versatile, we felt right at home.
The club had one small private dungeon in Manhattan and another larger one in Brooklyn. We paid a quarterly membership fee to assist with the upkeep of the spaces and equipment. The amount was surprisingly reasonable. We were informed that a couple of the founding members had quite a bit of money and shouldered much of the financial responsibility. I was particularly fond of the Brooklyn Heights dungeon. The space was in the bowels of a slightly rundown historic hotel not far from the Brooklyn Bridge. The basement had once been a rather notorious gym and bath house. Besides being the place where we made our fisting debut to the boys, the Brooklyn Heights club had more toys, slings and fuck benches. The lockers and showers were much nicer, and there was a lounge in which to relax, rest and recover after fisting our brains out.
Bill and I received a packet of initiation materials. A welcome letter explained that, on the occasion of our first appearance, our holes would be offered up to a selection of three members each for a duration of one hour. After the first hour, we could mix and play with other members in attendance, but we would function exclusively as pig bottoms for the night. We could wear any gear we wanted with one requirement: jockstraps to keep our dicks covered and asses accessible. The packet included a detailed questionnaire asking us to answer a list of inquiries about what we wanted and how we wanted it. We had a lot of fun filling out those forms. We even discovered a few new things about each other’s anal desires. For instance, Bill wrote that he wanted to be fucked with a large horsecock dildo. That response gave me an instant boner, so I pushed him down on the floor and fucked a hot load into him.
Finally, the big day arrived. We’d been working our holes and figuring out our gear for a week. I decided I wanted to be mostly naked for the evening, so I wore only a classic Bike #10 red jockstrap and gray work socks with red bands that showed over the tops of my red-laced black combat boots. Bill wore his red leather chest harness with metal studs, black assless chaps with red laces up the sides and a black leather jockstrap with two red stripes centered on the front. He decided he wanted to be barefoot in the sling. We both wore cock rings under our jockstraps, as well as red and black bands on our right biceps. I neatly tied a red handkerchief around his neck, and as he did the same for me.
He grinned, “I feel like we’re getting married again.”
I kissed him lightly. “We kind of are.”
I don’t remember much about the cab ride to Brooklyn. I was so nervous and excited that my brain went somewhere else for a while. We rode silently in the back seat, sporting our matching leather caps and long coats. Bill had slipped on a pair of red Converse sneakers for the ride from one borough to the other. When he paid the driver and the meter spit out the receipt, I finally regained my senses. My hole was twitching with anticipation and my cock strained at the bounds of my jockstrap. I knew Bill was in a similar state.
One of the guys was waiting for us outside the hotel, and he showed us how to find the entrance to the club and the current access code for the door. We removed our outerwear in the locker room, hugged and kissed, wished each other a good time, then walked out into the dungeon hand in hand. I realized the front of my jockstrap was noticeably soaked with precum. Most of the guys were mingling randomly, but halfway across the room we spotted a group of men putting the finishing touches on the equipment where our manholes were to be sacrificed. They were the members selected to work us over for the first hour. Since we were a couple, they wanted to honor that, so they had arranged two of the slings close together with angled mirrors on the ceiling so we could each watch what was happening to the other. There were also a couple of fuck benches nearby, as well as a large table with a padded leather cover. Giant tubs of lube sat waiting under each sling. I noticed that our names had been written on the tubs. All kinds and sizes of toys were everywhere. We were escorted to the designated area and greeted everyone. These men were experts. They wanted to get down to business, so they wasted no time hoisting us into the slings and securing our wrists and ankles in the restraint cuffs.
I have to say that everyone looked amazing. Most of the guys were dressed in various modes of leather and rubber. A few of them wore masks. They looked dangerous and sexy. Several were almost or completely nude. All of them watched carefully as our manholes were presented. They formed a line and each took their turn walking past us, ogling every inch of our exposed bodies, which were willingly offered up to them as tribute. A couple of them stopped and looked straight into my eyes with unbridled lust. One guy held his clenched fist up in front of me before making a sudden twisting motion. He made it clear he would get his opportunity with me after the first hour.
Our debut was a beautiful, hole-wrecking dance. My ass was generously lubed within minutes. Before the festivities could really begin, one of the senior members appeared between Bill and me. He had a lascivious smile on his face. “Gentlemen, welcome! We’re all here to have a fisting good time, so get ready for an evening of pure anal pleasure. When the night is over, you will truly have the gaping, dripping mancunts you’ve always wanted. I guarantee you will both be greedy, hungry fisting sluts for the rest of your lucky lives!”
Bill and I both loved dildos and butt plugs, so that’s where they started with us. Two of the men on my side took turns fucking me with bigger and bigger toys. Between dildo fucks, the third man used his fingers and hands to spread me wider and wider. At one point, he pushed in a big plug and held it there. I was in pig heaven. I looked up in the mirror to watch the horsecock dildo being fucked into Bill’s furry hole. He had gotten his wish and was definitely enjoying it! They pushed the whole length of it into him, and I could hear him whimpering and softly moaning. His legs shook and rattled the chains of his sling. I was glad I couldn’t reach my dick, because when I watched my beautiful man take that long, long dildo into his body, I wanted to cum all over myself.
By that time, I had been gaped wide and deep with some of my favorite toys. The moment had come for me to start taking fists and everyone knew it. There were men all around me. The three who’d been working on my hole with dildos and plugs were standing between my legs making a big production of greasing up their hands and forearms. I felt multiple fingers entering and leaving my hole, slowly and expertly opening me for their hands.
There was a small, hairy Turkish guy named Kamal who was the first to slip his fist into me. I had a bit of a thing for him anyway. He was really attractive, and we made a lot of eye contact. He rotated his hand inside me, producing involuntary moans of delight. He gently pulled out and inserted the other hand, rotating it as well. He switched off hands like that for a while, not really punching me, but gently pulling out and inserting his fists one at a time, over and over again. He had a big smile on his face as he finally pulled out and stepped back. He was so frigging cute! Like a little teddy bear.
Don the Italian engineer was next to get his paws inside me. He was one of the older men in the club, but he was also one of the hottest. He was eternally tan and entirely bald from head to toe, except for a 70’s style pornstache that really got my libido going. He had one of the tightest bodies I’ve ever seen. His body fat percentage had to be below five per cent. The muscles on his forearms were like cables, and I couldn’t wait to feel them slide inside me. Don pushed his fists further into me than Kamal had, so I got my wish with those steely forearms. He was also a bit rougher, pulling all the way out and punching back inside to a depth I’d never been punched before. Bill’s hands were too big for that, but Don’s were the perfect size for it, and he used his expertise to open me up in a way I’d never experienced before. He got my legs to shaking, and I thought he was going to make me cum.
Don was almost finished with me when I heard a loud moan from a few feet away. I looked up in the mirror just in time to see Bill take a fist even bigger than his own into his gaping, dripping mancunt, which is what it had finally become. Vernon had apparently just pulled out and was going back in again. He had the biggest hands in the club. When he was younger, he had been a professional NBA player, and it showed. He could easily palm a basketball. Watching his big fist wreck my husband’s hole was a huge turn-on. His dark tattooed arms against Bill’s pale Nordic ass was a beautiful sight to behold, but I shivered a bit because I knew that someday soon those big hands would be heading for my hole.
Don pulled out of me, and after a brief pause I saw Richard step up to my overheated ass. I trembled a little, wondering what he would do to me. Even though he was one of the younger guys, he was well known for being one of the most experienced fisters on the east coast, especially for taking you places you’d never been before. He was half Japanese and half American, from head to toe one of the most stunning men on the planet. His deep voice had a soothing quality and he began speaking softly to me, telling me what a good pig and how beautiful my hole was. One of the other guys produced a large black duffel bag and placed it on the floor next to Richard. Another brought over what looked like a short leather barstool, and Richard took a seat on it, so that he ended up eye level with my hole. As he settled down, he moaned softly. “I want you to know that the chair I’m sitting on is outfitted with a rather large butt plug. I like to have my own hole stretched out wide when I’m working on a stud like you.”
Out of the black bag, he produced a very large gold dildo. It wasn’t actually made of gold, but it was golden, smooth, very wide and long, an almost perfect cylinder, except for the handle at its base. “I brought this especially for you, from my own collection. It has only ever been inside two other men. One of those men is me.” He placed it at the entrance to my hole and slowly pushed it inside. His talk turned raunchy as fuck. He was telling me what a great fisting slut I would become, how my hole was made for the use of many men’s fists. It really turned me on to hear this, and before I knew it, I felt my hole snap closed around the narrow end of the dildo, what I thought was a handle. “Surpise! It’s really a very long butt plug. I had it custom made from my own design.”
Richard slowly pulled it out of me before plunging it back in again. He began fucking me faster and faster with it, almost viciously. He finally pulled it out, and my hole made a loud plopping sound. He quickly pushed one of his fists into me. His hand went as deep as he’d pushed the gold plug, and before I knew it, he had one arm in me up to his elbow. He left it at that depth for a few moments before gently rotating the length of it back and forth. I heard someone say, “Look at his belly. You can see Richard’s fist pushing his guts around.”
The pleasure in my body had me over the moon. I could tell I was building to something profound. I heard Richard call for Kamal, and the little teddy bear stepped up to my butt. Richard slowly pulled his arm out until only his fist was still inside me. My pulsing hole gripped his wrist. Richard turned to Kamal and whispered, “It’s time.”
Kamal slipped some fingers into my hole, right up against Richard’s wrist. Their bodies were pressed against each other and they were very still. I looked up to the mirror and watched Kamal tuck his thumb under his fingers, forming the classic fisting cone. Then in tandem, Richard and Kamal pushed their fists into me. I let out a loud involuntary moan and a stream of piss soaked the red pouch of my beloved Bike #10. Richard leaned down and sucked some of my piss out of the fabric. He swallowed it and grinned lewdly at me. “Now Kamal, Don and I are going to give you the mancunt you’ve always wanted.” Don appeared behind me at the head of my sling. He grabbed the chains and began pulling it back. At the same time, Kamal and Richard began slowly withdrawing their fists. The three of them rocked me very carefully and deliberately. On the first pass, Kamal’s fist came all the way out but Richard’s stayed inside. Subsequent passes resulted in both of their fists pulling out before diving back in again. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and a
volcano of lust and ecstasy started to erupt at the core of my being. I don’t know how long the orgasms lasted, but I felt like my soul had soared out into the universe.
When I landed back in the sling, the rocking motion had stopped. Richard and Kamal gently withdrew their fists and my gaping, dripping, brand new mancunt made its debut to all my fisting brothers. A cheer went up across the dungeon. The senior member who made the salutation at the top of the hour appeared again. “Gentlemen, please welcome our two newest mancunts to the world. Judging by the awesome results I see here, I’d say they are two of our greatest successes. Let’s give them both a round of applause.” Another cheer went up and a smattering of applause circled the room.
I looked up to the ceiling to check on Bill. He was looking back at me. We both appeared completely spent. Vernon was also looking up at me in the mirror. He pointed to a ring of
grease at the top of his arm, just below his shoulder, and I knew what had happened. My beautiful Bill had taken Vernon’s entire arm.
Vernon was beaming. “Okay, all you fisters, let’s get them cleaned up and out of those slings. I’m sure they could use a break from being suspended like the pigs they are.”
Kamal started wiping me down from head to toe with a warm soft towel. He barely grazed my new mancunt. “I want to keep it nice and sloppy for everyone to enjoy.” He was smiling at me and his hazel eyes sparkled a bit. I felt a slight warmth in my chest. I was developing a big crush on him.
I was released from the restraints and two of my brothers carefully helped me out of the sling and walked me over to the large table. They gently lifted me onto the leather padding while Kamal dabbed at my back with one of the towels. “You should lie down and rest for a few minutes.” He handed me a leather pillow and one of those blankets like you get on a first-class airline flight.
Bill was then laid out next to me. Four of our brothers had to lift him onto the table. Vernon turned to me. “He’s a little wobbly, but that’s understandable, given what we just did to him. But he’ll be all right. He’s a magnificent pig. He’ll be back for more.” Kamal handed me another blanket for Bill. He’d already wedged a pillow under Bill’s head.
I slid up to Bill and put my arm around him. “How you doing, honey?”
“I’ll be okay in a minute. I don’t think I’m all back in my body.” He turned his head and smiled. “That was incredible. I feel like my whole body is just one big hole.”
After a while, we sat up and dangled our legs over the edge of the table, which was not that easy, because our greasy asses had us almost slipping off. Bill had the bright idea to put one of the towels under us for traction. I was able to hobble over to the bar and grab a couple of electrolyte drinks. We sat there for some time, wrapped in our blankets, sipping our drinks, watching the spectacular fisting orgy that was rolling out in front of us.
Don was in the sling closest, the one I had previously occupied. Two of our brothers had three fists in him. Watching that tanned taut body being so thoroughly defiled was probably the hottest thing I’d seen until then. Don’s mouth hung open in a silent O, perfectly framed by that 70’s pornstache.
Richard was in the sling across from Don. Vernon’s entire right arm was buried in Richard’s mancunt. He was moaning so loudly, it’s a wonder the chains weren’t rattling. All across the room, men were engaged in various stages of fisting debauchery. It was a marvelous sight to behold.
Bill and I started to get restless, and we looked at each other, knowing it was time for more. We wandered around the dungeon for a while, taking in every detail. We found Kamal strapped down to one of the fuck benches with his furry ass in the air. There was a big blonde muscle pig jacking off in his hole. The sounds coming from Kamal’s ass were incredibly nasty. I almost popped a new boner.
The guy who had held his fist up to me at the beginning of the festivities approached us. He introduced himself as Gary. He was an accountant from Philadelphia, a handsome guy-next-door type who looked like he could have played football or rugby. We talked for a minute, during which he told us he wanted both of us on our hands and knees on the big table, side by side, presenting our holes to him. It turned out his specialty was chariot fisting, and he’d been waiting for us all evening. The three of us practically ran to the table.
Gary had his burly forearms tunneled halfway inside us in no time. Wisely, given how wrecked we were, that’s as far as he went, but he wasn’t fooling around either. He was pulling out and punching back very shortly after getting us warmed up again. Bill and I were moaning like two-dollar whores. A few of the guys gathered around to watch and jack off. The evening was coming to a close, and many of the men started finishing up. Don walked by and I heard him say he was heading for the showers if anyone wanted to piss in his ass. That sounded really good to me, but I was otherwise occupied. I filed that thought away for another night.
Later on, many of us were relaxing in the lounge having drinks. Bill and I were uniformly praised for our debut performance. Richard gave us his business card and told us to contact him if we were interested in traveling to his place in Boston to make some fisting videos. When I seemed skeptical, he mentioned that he’d make sure it was all completely anonymous. I told him we’d think about it.
Finally it was time to go home. Bill and I showered, changed into our street clothes and hailed a cab. We held hands the whole way home, occasionally turning to smile at each other like naughty school boys. That night in bed, we spent quite a bit of time examining and commenting on our newly expanded fistholes. Then in the morning I fucked a big load into his before he flipped me over and bred mine as deep as he could shoot. Besides fisting each other, my favorite thing in the world was to be on my back with my legs in the air, having my man knock me up with his hot sperm, knowing that my load was already deep in his gut.
Next: Finding Mark