Chapter 2 – Chương 2

And then I saw it. The men weren't completely naked at all. They all had something in common. All of them had jewelry things poking out of their dick heads. Some were open loops with rounded beads where the loops stopped, some closed loops, some looked like miniature barbells, and some were studs made out of various things: gold or silver cubes or knobs or gem stones. One of the younger, studlier guys had a loop with what looked like a ruby heart charm hanging off it.

"These are Prince Alberts," the doctor was saying. The members of our club all have them. This is our annual initiation meeting. We'll initiate a new member tonight. Prince Albert was said to have originated this idea for Victorian gentleman and to have had one himself. His name stuck on penis piercing."

Fascinating, I thought, about the Prince Albert jewelry. Absolutely fascinating. Who would have thought it of the husband of the stuffy old Queen Victoria? Those Victorians. Gotta love 'em. They had us fooled about them being so uptight. And, of course, a doctor's office would be a natural place for a party like this.

As the evening wore on, the club members became friendlier to me and friskier with their hands—and some with their lips—and increasingly helpful in equalizing our circumstances by slowly helping me off with my hot clothes. And I became more and more taken with the good wine they were sharing around.

I began to earn my fee in earnest. The party spread out from the waiting room into the examination rooms, and the club members were becoming as friendly and frisky with each other as they were with me. They were pairing off in couples and threesomes and a few of them were disappearing into the area of the examination rooms. But a few of them were also fucking right there in the waiting room, on the floor, in the chairs, and on the reception desk.

The doctor and a few of the other members, the younger ones, I was happy to note, guided me through a door and toward the back of the building. As we passed doors, I could see that the smaller groups that had come this way earlier were having no trouble amusing themselves with the medical equipment and with each other in the examination rooms branching off from the hallway.

I was quite woozy from the wine at this point, but it was time for me to start keeping count. I was down to just the billowy shirt, which was fully open, and that silk red cravat around my neck. Several of the men had me backed up to an examination table and were running their hands and lips all over my body. My doctor escort left briefly but came back with a box full of condoms and a bottle of what must be lubricant. As my first customer, a short blond guy with a short, but fat cock, was kneeling on the examination table, with me facing him and him using my mouth to get his cock as pumped up as it was going to get, the doctor escort was rubbing the lubricant into my hole and on my cock as well.

He told me the lubricant would help me take several men easier and that I would feel a bit numb after only a few minutes, but that this would keep me from tightening up.

The table was really too high for the little blond to do anything to me, so when he came off the table, he pulled me over to a chair, sat in it, and pulled me down on his lap, facing the other men, and made me fuck myself on his cock while the other men gathered around, licking their lips, stroking themselves, and waiting their turn. I felt his Prince Albert, a gold cube, rubbing along the side of my passage as he stroked me. Very intriguing. In fact I could feel all of the different Prince Alberts—and in different ways—that I took that evening. They were truly awesome toys, and I wondered briefly if Queen Victoria cried out with passion as I did for the little blond and all his successors when Prince Albert played her with one of those.

The next man, a tall, thin redhead with a long, slender cock to match, had me kneel in the chair, facing the back, and he fucked me from the rear, taking long strokes into me that were quite pleasant, really. He was good about putting his hands under my shirt and onto my chest and tweaking my nipples in rhythm with his fuck. He had one of those upturned cocks and had a Prince Albert that was an open ring with two big silver knobs. They dragged in unison across my upper canal walls as he fucked me, and I rewarded his efforts and those talented silver balls with my first ejaculation of the evening to the delight and encouragement of a very attentive audience.

Then I was taken from behind by number three while I was standing on the floor and my chest was pressed to the top of the examination table and my mouth was working black and curly-haired number four's plump cock. Number four's Prince Albert was like a bar bell, so my passage walls got extra loving on both sides as he slid in and out of me. He wanted to cuddle close in behind me and kiss me on the neck as he was stroking, and I found that curly-haired chest of his rubbing up and down on my back as he fucked quite arousing and satisfying.

Number five wanted me on the floor beside the table, me on my back, and him holding my pelvis up and my legs out and pumping me fast and furiously while his teeth worked my nipples. His cocksmanship was especially inventive and I arched my back and thrust my pelvis up into his as his Prince Albert found and kissed every square inch of my insides. Number six liked that position as well, but he had me on the top of the examination table. He was the hunk with the heart-shaped pendant on his Prince Albert loop, and he was quite pleased that I wanted to closely watch that disappear into and emerge from my hole while he plowed me. I erupted and flowed for him. Number seven just flipped me over onto my stomach and covered me close with his arms and torso, told me to come up a bit on my knees, and slowly pumped me with the longest and fattest cock I'd had yet that evening. He took his time and had me moaning and groaning for it. I had felt the distinct Prince Albert feature of all them as they dicked me—and I loved the feel of what they all had, but this seventh miner had the biggest, thickest ring of all on his longest and thickest cock. And he had attached a string of beads to the ring. These were swirling around inside me while he fucked me, and they sent me straight to bottom heaven.

I'm not sure that there was a number eight—and for all I was able to be aware of at the time, there might have been a number twelve and thirteen as well. Number seven had me royally fucked and the wine had me woozy as hell, and that lubricant had me numb on the surface, if not inside my canal.

I was aware of a muscle-bound bald guy sitting on my chest with me stretched out on the examination table on my back. I had some impression that my wrists and ankles were bound to the table, but I was too far gone to be sure of that. The bald guy was feeding me with his cock, fucking my face and making me suck him, while he held my head very still between two beefy palms. Many men—it seemed like the full contingent of men who had been at the party to begin with—were gathered around the table and ooing and ahing and making small talk to each other in whispers. I saw the escort doctor, a blur of white now, no longer naked, come around below me, and I felt him thrust inside me with his crowned cock. He had a fist wrapped around my cock as he fucked me, but my cock was so numb that I couldn't be sure of that. After some deep stroking, the doctor just held himself deep inside me, very still. The bald guy on top of me kept holding my head still with his hands and feeding my mouth with his hard cock. He was cooing to me, whispering words of encouragement for I know not what—nor did I really care at the moment; I was well-gone drunk and very well fucked.

For a short time, the room was swathed in an eerie silence. And then there was a buzzing of voices and some healthy applause sweeping around the room, and the party seemed to be taking off for a second round of frivolity.

The room nearly emptied out, and I found I was pulling myself up to a seated position on the table and rubbing my wrists as if they had, indeed, been bound. The bald guy was gone as well. Only my doctor escort remained, and he was decked out in a white surgical costume now and had a white gauss cup over his mouth.

He removed the face mask and gave me the broadest of smiles and said, "Welcome to the club."

I looked down, and there it was. I had a thickish loop pierced through my mushroom cap. It was gold and it had a gold bead on it.

I had been initiated, crowned, pierced, made a colleague of Prince Albert. I celebrated by rolling my eyes up into my head and falling back onto the surface of the examination table and passing out.

For days thereafter, Leon wouldn't take my telephone calls. I did, however, receive a hefty check in the mail for the evening's work and I'd received a nice fat tip from the guys in the P.A. Club as well—although there was no reason for Leon ever to know that.

I'm sure he figured that I was, by right, totally pissed with him and might do him bodily harm if I caught up with him before the post-surgical pain wore off. I'm sure, though, that he also was crowing to himself that he had punished me for wanting to take three months off, especially since someone had to take this eight-male-fucks assignment—the payoff was much too good to turn it down—and anyone who did would be out of commission, recovering from the surgery, for three months.

For three months, the exact time I had said I needed to take off. Which meant I wasn't trying to contact Leon to ream him a new one; I was trying to call him to gloat. I was taking the three months because I had decided I wanted my dick head pierced and a nice gold loop put in it, although I had no idea at the time that it was called a Prince Albert. Before this assignment came along, I would have had to swallow the cost of both the surgery and the recovery myself. Thanks to the P.A. Club, however, I'd now gotten that all for free—along with a club membership, membership in a club that included a master fucker number seven with a mean string of ass canal beads.