Scrap Yard Visitor
by
Dougie fae Glesga
(a former scrap yard worker)
 
 

Chapter 1
Steve had completed six years with the Royal Marine Commandos, receiving an honourable discharge (along with two commendations for bravery). He decided to take a four-week holiday before starting his new civvy job as a policeman.
Two years ago he had been promoted to corporal and a physical training instructor, so at 24 years of age he was at the peak of fitness with a well developed body.
Ten days before his discharge Steve had received a letter from Andy, a friend and former marine PT instructor inviting him to Glasgow.

Andy had spent three months in military prison and was then discharged for striking an officer. That was four months ago. Steve told no one about the letter. He and Andy had been good friends. Andy had a lovely arse and a big cock and those were the things Steve missed most about his friend.
The letter had given a P.O. Box in the city as the address, so Steve had no idea where in the city his mate was living or working although he thought it must be somewhere in the east end as Andy often mentioned the area.

The letter had stated he should be at certain pub at exactly 2 p.m. on the Saturday 23rd September, four days after Steve's discharge.
Steve wrote back to Andy at the P.O. Box agreeing to meet. The area mentioned was off the Gallowgate and had old foundries and engineering works. Not the place that tourists would normally visit.

He arrived on Friday morning in the city and as he had nothing to do he decided to check out the pub mentioned in the letter. He was dressed in clean faded blue jeans, matching faded blue denim jacket, white T-shirt, studded leather belt and polished army boots. The T-shirt showed off his excellent physique and as he had a large cock the bulge in his crotch was quite prominent.

It was about 1 p.m. when he arrived at the pub on a back street in an area of scrap yards and derelict buildings. It was on a corner and the windows on the two sides were boarded up and it looked as if the place hadn't been painted for fifty years. He checked the name, The Grease Monkey. That was correct. He checked the two streets at the junction. They were correct. This must be it. Perhaps Andy worked in one of the warehouses nearby.

Inside were six customers, all in filthy working gear. Two of them were skinheads dressed in filthy torn combat trousers and combat T-shirt. Two were Hells Angels in greasy light blue jeans, denim shirts and scruffy leather jackets. They had mops of black unkempt hair and several days stubble on their chins. The face of one Angel was criss crossed with six scars and he had a black eye. The other two guys were in tight fitting filthy light blue overalls. Steve noted one of them had a rip at the arse and he could see flesh. Obviously the guy wore nothing under the overalls. Judging by the tight fit of the other guys overalls round his crotch he also wore nothing under them.

He looked again at the Angel with the scarred face. He looked a right tough bastard. He happened to turn his back to Steve for a minute and he noted the well-shaped arse. The seam had been ripped and re-stitched. When he turned round again Steve noted the large bulge at his crotch. Has a big cock as well, though Steve.
What Steve was not aware of was that the six guys all worked in local scrap yards and were also members of a local gang, the Vandals, whose main interests were fighting, booze and kinky sex, bondage, piss, oil and grease.

They met in a scrap yard near the pub. The three owners of one of the yards, Vic, Terry and Ginger were founder members of the club. So also was Charlie the owner of the pub. It was kept in a filthy condition to discourage casual visitors. All the regulars were guys who worked in nearby yards, garages or small engineering works.
Steve had been staring at the group for some time. They quickly became aware of the stare of the stranger.

There are normally two reactions from guys being stared at,
(1) They soon ignore you,
or,
(2) They come over and speak to you.
The scar-faced Angel came over to Steve, stared at him slowly from feet to head then spoke.
"What the fuck are you staring at, cunt?" he said scowling at Steve. The average guy would retreat with an apology or run for the door

Steve stared back, starting at the boots which had old greasy leather uppers and steel toe caps, light blue jeans now a dirty grey with black greasy patches and a large bulge at the crotch, the studded leather belt, the filthy denim shirt, the torn and scruffy leather jacket, the week-old stubble on his chin, the scars on each cheek, the black ring round his left eye, the mop of unruly hair and tough scowl on his face. Steve had a hard on. He wanted to wrestle with the guy and fuck him. He would even be happy to be fucked by him.
Steve stared him straight in the eye and said "I like your gear."

The guy was taken aback for a second. That wasn't the reply he was expecting. The others heard and they stared at the newcomer.
The Angel indicating to the others to gather round which they did. They wanted a closer look at the guy had given the cocky reply to Greaser.
The Angel said with a sneer "We have a smart arse here. Wants to work in a scrap yard or be a Hells Angel."
Looking at Steve's clean clothes one guy said "You had better go back to loading shelves at the supermarket, little boy. We only take guys who aren't afraid of a little bit of dirt. You don't qualify to work in a scrap yard."

Steve hadn't thought of working in a scrap yard but he was curious to know more of these guys.
"Because I'm wearing clean jeans at the moment doesn't mean I'm afraid of dirt. I've been inches deep in mud. I've dug trenches and holes in the ground during pouring rain." and added with a grin "I've even wrestled with guys in mud."
This was true. He didn't add that he had been on military exercises at the time.

By now all six guys were studying his physique. Well built and a big cock, two of the main requirement of a scrap yard worker in this area. Dug trenches? Wrestled with guys in mud? Must have been a construction worker.
"We don't take wimps or pansies. Every guy has to prove he's tough by wrestling with two of us on a greasy floor and if he loses all the guys fuck him. If he wins he can fuck any of the losers."
Steve had a hard on and the guys saw it.

One of them said "My names Ginger. I'm the foreman in one of the yards."
He introduced the others. "This is Frank, Sid, Jake, Nobby and Greaser."
Ginger and Frank were the two skinheads in combat gear, Jake and Nobby were the two in tight fitting overalls and Sid and Greaser were in Hells Angels outfits. Greaser was the guy that Steve fancied a wrestle with. With the scars across his face Steve guessed that the Hells Angel had been attacked by guys with bottles or had been in a knife fight.
Ginger continued "We might need an extra guy next week. Frank is due in court on an assault charge and will probably end up in prison for several months. The stupid bastard was only out of the nick (prison) three days, got into a fight and was picked up by the fuck'n cops."

He looked Steve straight in the eye and said "How do you fancy a dress rehearsal and we'll show you what's expected of the cunt who gets the job?"
"I'm game for a wrestle with you." said Nobby who wore filthy light blue overalls. Steve could see he wore nothing under them.
Frank was a well-built skinhead and wore greasy combat gear said "My cock would like to try your fuck'n arse for size."
Greaser said "Turn round so we can see your arse. It might not be worth fucking."
Steve stood up and slowly turned round so that they all saw his well-shaped arse.
"Definitely a nice fuck'n shape." said Sid with a grin.
"Yes. My cock would be happy exploring it." said Jake.

Steve nodded to Greaser and said "Now you turn round and let me see your arse. It might not be worth fucking."
This annoyed Greaser but the others laughed and took a liking to the stranger.
Greaser replied "That would be a waste of fuck'n time, pal. You ain't going to fuck me. I'm the bastard who does the fucking around here."
This made Steve all the more keen to wrestle with the filthy arrogant Angel.
"That's O.K. by me. I see you've a big cock. I like guys with big cocks."

That pleased Greaser. This bastard obviously recognised the Hells Angel as a tough guy. He would show Mr Squeeky Clean how tough he was when he rolled him on the filthy floor, push a handful of black grease up his arse and then rammed his cock up it.
"Where do you do your wrestling?" asked Steve.
"We do it in one of the yards. We have a club called the Vandals. You have to work in a scrap yard or engineering work in the area to qualify. We pride ourselves on being a tough club. We like to drink, we like to fight and we like to fuck. Sometimes we wrestle on an old mat and sometimes on the floor. If a guy comes along and doesn't mind being greased up he can wrestle with any the guys. The winner fucks the loser. Do you fancy a go?" said Ginger.

"The winner fucks the loser? At the moment I'm so randy I don't care if I win or lose." said Steve.
Ginger grinned and led the way to the scrap yard the group used as a meeting place.
What Steve didn't know was that regardless whether he wins or loses at wrestling he was going to be tied up and get six cocks up his arse one after the other.
 

 

***

Chapter 2
The group entered a scrap yard filled with parts of old trucks, vans and cars. They made their way towards the main building and passed round it to another smaller building with its windows boarded up and they went inside. It was about 30 ft long by 15 ft wide. At one end was a sheet of foam rubber, about 12 ft square and 6 inches thick.
It originally had been a light natural colour but most of it was a filthy black with oil and dirt.
Next to it was a filthy mattress and about a foot from each corner a metal pole was cemented into the ground. Attached to each pole was a short chain and a handcuff.

In the middle of the room were chains and ropes hanging from the overhead beams. Near one wall was a set of stocks and against the opposite wall was a stool with a large butt plug sticking up. On the wall behind it were chains and cuffs. Bolted on to another wall was a St Andrew's Cross.
Cemented into the fourth wall were nearly twenty large rings in various positions from floor level to 7 ft high. The floor had a film of dirty oil on it caused by people walking in and out and possibly wrestling on the open floor. In one corner was a shit pan full of piss and shit.

Looking round Steve said "I like your set up. It makes me want to be a scrappy."
"You can wrestle in your own gear or borrow some gear from here." said Ginger. "You need to have the seam at the arse of your jeans open. You also have your fly open and your cock out. When you wrestle the aim is to get your cock up the other guy's arse and keep it there for twenty seconds."
Steve grinned and said "I like the idea. I think I had better use your gear."
Ginger looked Steve up and down.
"I think I'd like to see you in a pair of tight fitting overalls." he said.
"I think a pair of greasy combats would be better." said Frank.

Greaser said "It doesn't matter what the cunt wears. He'll be stretched out on the mattress for us all to fuck after I ram my cock up his arse at wrestling."
Frank, the skinhead in greasy army kit, said "What makes you think you're the bastard who's going to be first to wrestle with the cunt. I want to be the first to ram my cock up his fuck'n arse."
"Why not toss for it?" said Steve. I'll win anyway. It's a case of who's arse do I fuck first."

The others laughed. Even Greaser managed a grin.
"You're a right cocky bastard." said the Hells Angel. "Either you're a judo black belt or you're bluffing your way hoping to put me off."
"Let's toss for it who goes first." said Frank. "If he beats one of us he fucks that one. If he is beaten by one of us then only that one fucks him. If he is beaten by the two of us he gets fucked by the six of us."
"As I'm the one you're talking about how about letting me pick the first guy?" said Steve.

Ginger said "O.K. Go ahead."
"I'll start with Frank. I'm quite happy with his suggestion."
Ginger indicated some old greasy overalls, combat trousers and jeans hanging on hooks on the wall. Below them on the floor were several pairs of boots. Steve took off his clothes and boots and put on a pair of greasy torn combat trousers. They were a perfect fit, tight at the arse and crotch. The arse of the combats had already been ripped. He put on a greasy army T-shirt. As he stood there he quickly got a hard on. Steve had a large cock, a fact not missed by the gang. He put on a pair of old steel capped boots. He was now ready and keen to have a go.

He followed Frank over to the filthy wrestling mat. The skinhead had his cock out of his combat trousers and Sid pulled apart the lightly stitched seam at the arse of his combats. They were both now ready for action.
For several seconds they circled each other, then Frank dived at Steve's legs bringing him down. They rolled about on the greasy mat. For over a minute the two guys rolled back and forward then broke off and rose to their feet. Both had grins on their faces indicating that they were enjoying the tussle. Steve saw an opportunity and jumped on his opponent pinning him face down. The ex-commando brought his judo experience to use and pressing a nerve in Frank's neck caused the guy to lose power of his limbs for sufficient time to let Steve rammed his cock up the guy's arse.
Frank groaned and shouted "Shit."

Everyone knew that Steve had rammed his cock up the scrappy's arse.
A few seconds later Frank said "O.K. You win."
Steve withdrew his cock from his opponent's arse.
"Nice arse you have there." said Steve, "Nice cock as well."
He thought it better to add the last sentence to be diplomatic.
"What can you expect from a skinhead? They're all wankers." said Greaser with a grin.
"Now you're going to wrestle with a man, Arsehole. In two minutes you're going to feel my cock up your arse and then you're going to suck the shit off it."
"Not so fast, Greaser." said Ginger. "Frank lost, so he gets strung up first."

Frank was now on his feet and walked over until he stood below an overhead beam with ropes hanging from it. He pushed his cock inside his combats and buttoned them up. He knew that some guys liked to take a belt across a bound guy's cock so thought it better to have some protection.
Ginger said to Steve "Whoever loses at a fight or wrestling match gets either, strung up from the beam; tied to the shit pan or locked in the stocks; and fucked by the rest of us. There are one or two guys who deliberately lose because they like being fucked. Frank isn't one of them. He loves ramming his cock up arses, so does Greaser. If you beat him he's not going to be pleased."
"This cunt isn't going to beat me." said Greaser.

By now Franks wrists were secured by ropes and the ropes pulled over the beam until the skinhead was almost standing on tiptoes. His legs were pulled apart and secured.
The Hells Angel went up to the bound skinhead and noticed Frank still had a large bulge in his greasy combats. He rubbed the bulge and said "You fuck'n wanker. You wanted to get beat so you could feel that cunt's cock up your fuck'n arse. Once I beat him I'll deal with you myself."

It was tradition if a Vandal gets beat at wrestling by a visitor then the member gets a black eye or bruised ribs as an encouragement to do better the next time. Two days ago the Hells Angel had lost to a visitor from another club in a friendly bout and was beaten up. It was Frank who gave Greaser his black eye and then fucked him. Now Greaser could have his revenge.
Steve walked round behind the skinhead. With his legs wide apart Frank's greasy combats were tight fitting against his well shaped arse. The ex-commando was wondering if it was Frank he should fuck. Tight fitting combats, whether they were wet, muddy or greasy made Steve's cock ache for action. Like a lot of guys who joined the marines and the Army, it was the uniform which was the attraction.

While Frank was being strung up he wondered where he had gone wrong, then he remembered the pressure on the nerve at the neck and temporary losing power. Buster, one of the other Vandals was a karate expert and had shown Frank the vital spot. 'So that's how the bastard beat me.' thought Frank. He was about to warn Greaser when the latter had made his sarcastic remarks.
'No.' said Frank to himself. 'Let the cunt get beaten. In fact I hope he gets beaten. It will serve him right.'

Greaser now faced Steve. Pulling apart the press studs of his jeans he pulled out his semi hard cock he gave it a rub quickly bringing it to almost bursting point. He was looking forward to beating the stranger. A pity he wasn't wearing his nice clean jeans and T-shirt. Greaser would have enjoyed seeing the cunt get filthier and filthier as they rolled over in the oily mat.

They circled each other for several seconds then the Hells Angel made a lunge at Steve's legs. The commando was prepared and suddenly dodged to the side and as Greaser grasped thin air Steve put his weight on him bringing him to the floor face down. Steve swung round as the Angel fell and put his body on top of Greasers. The Angel wasn't expecting the sudden move and winded himself. It took fully a second to realise what had happened but it was too late. As Steve landed on top of him his cock was posed to strike; and struck a bull's eye, straight into Greaser's arse hole.
The Angel let out a yell then a curse as he realised he had been tricked.
"I'm in." shouted Steve.

Ginger and Ricky were watching closely.
"For fuck's sake." said Ricky. "In less than thirty seconds."
"You've lost your touch, Greaser." said Ginger. "All the queens in Paddy's Bar will be fucking you soon."
The Angel was not amused. It was humiliating to be beaten twice in three days and on the second fight within seconds of starting. He tried to make up an excuse.
"I think this cunt is a copper trying to penetrate the gang. How come he seems to know so much about judo?" he said.

The others looked at Steve. He seemed too clean cut to be a construction worker. Was he a plain clothes cop?
Frank remembered the paralysing hold to his neck.
"He pressed a nerve at my neck paralysing me for a minute." said Frank, "Buster is a black belt and says only experts at judo have the right technique. Greaser could be right."
"I'm no cop." said Steve. "I've just come out the marines and made arrangements to meet a pal at that pub."

"First you say you're a construction worker and then you say you're a soldier. Sounds a bit fishy to me." said Ginger.
"I never said I was a construction worker. I said I had dug trenches and fought guys in muddy areas. You assumed I was a construction worker." said Steve. He could sense a hostility building up.
"You said you're meeting some guy in the pub. What's his name?" said Ginger.
"Andy Thomson. He's an old army buddy." said Steve. "I have a letter in my jeans."
"There's nobody called Andy in the club." said Jake.

"Tie the cunt up and well check it out later." said Greaser.
Five guys pounced on Steve. He was pinned to the ground. A filthy sack smelling of piss and shit was put over his head and tied at the neck. If he managed to break free he still had the sack to untie. He knew that escape was now impossible.
"Let's fuck the bastard." said Greaser. "I liked the look of his arse. We can question him later. We can keep him here until tonight and all the other guys can fuck the cunt."

He was still smarting from losing the fight and wanted the visitor to suffer in the most humiliating way as possible. What better way than to have a gang bang.
There was a chorus of agreement and Steve was dragged to the old greasy and piss stinking mattress in the corner. He offered no resistance for he knew it was hopeless.

 

***

 

Chapter 3
He was forced into a spread eagled position and his wrists and ankles handcuffed to the steel poles at each corner of the mattress. The filthy combat trousers stretched over his arse cheeks showing up his well shaped arse. As he lay there breathing in the smell of stinking piss and shit his cock which had lost some of its erection during the argument started bulging in the anticipation of being fucked by six greasy tough guys.

Frank was released and like Greaser was keen to get his revenge. He didn't want to admit it openly but he was pleased Greaser lost. Serves the cocky bastard right. He brought his thoughts round to the visitor. Lying spread-eagled on the mattress the tight fitting filthy combats and T-shirt showed off Steve's well developed body. Each of the six scrappies had a hard on.
It was 30 minutes later that all six guys had fucked the stranger and they were discussing what to do next.
"Didn't the cunt say something about a letter in his jeans." said Frank.

Ginger went over to where Steve had left his jeans. In the pocket he found a wallet containing some money, a military ID card and a letter.
Looking at the card Ginger said "Hey. This cunt is in the marines right enough."
He opened the letter and read it. "It's from a guy called Andy who says he's working in a breaker's yard and wants this cunt to meet his mates. He mentions Ginger, Frank and Danny who all like army kit and a game at wrestling and a good fuck."
Frank said "He's got that bit right but who the fuck is Andy? Wait a minute. Buster and Johnny were both in the glass house, the army prison. Maybe the cunt was in the nick with them."
"Maybe he's an MP looking for them. Wait until Buster and Johnny come round tonight."

Steve had heard the conversation. Was Buster or Johnny the name now used by Andy?
"Let's fuck the cunt again. My cocks still horny." said Jake.
"String him up from the beam." said Frank.
The group released Steve's bonds from the poles round the mattress and dragged him to the middle of the floor. The piss stinking sack was still over his head. He offered no resistance for he knew even if he could break away from his captors it would at least a minute to remove the sack. Ropes were again tied to his wrists and flung over an overhead beam. Ropes were tied to his ankles and they were kicked wide apart. The ropes to his wrists were pulled and within seconds he stood spread-eagled, unable to move. With his legs wide apart his cock and balls hung loose.

One after the other the six gang members fucked him a second time. Having twelve cocks up his arse in one hour and the smell of oil, piss and shit about him Steve's cock was as hard as it was when he entered the yard. Ginger took hold of the cock and gently rubbed it.
"The poor cunt beat both of you. I reckon the least we should do is give him a blow job. After all he's going to be staying here for several hours and other guys will want to fuck him."

Sid, the second Hells Angel, thought he would embarrass his mate, Greaser. He looked at Ginger and Dodger and winked.
He said "I think Greaser should give him a blow job. After all he was the last guy to get beaten by the cunt, and in less than twenty seconds."
Before the Hells Angel could reply the other yelled in agreement.
Greaser was having none of that. He didn't give guys a blow job unless the guy beat him. Fuck it, . . . this cunt did beat him. He didn't want to lose face.

"Dodger was the first to get rammed by the cunt. He should suck him." said Greaser.
Dodger would willingly have sucked the strangers cock but he knew Greaser would feel humiliated if he had to suck the guy's cock.
"Toss you for it." said Dodger, "Heads I do it, tails you do it."

Greaser had no option but to agree. Ginger took a coin from his pocket and spun it in the air letting it drop on the floor. It came down tails.
"Looks like you give the soldier a blow job, Greaser." said Ginger.
The Hells Angel knew he was outnumbered and dropped on his knees in front of Steve. He took the guy's bulging cock in his mouth and sucked it. He could hear the bound guy gasping as he tickled the tip. Although he regarded himself as a top man Greaser gave a great blow job and he knew the other guys would expect the same with this cunt.
Greaser took first one ball in his mouth and sucked it then the other. Then it was back to the cock. He tickled the tip then the rim. Steve started to arch his body and gave out muffled gasps. Suddenly he let out a large gasp and creamy juice shot into Greasers mouth. The Hells Angel kept his mouth open as he wanked the last drop of spunk from Steve's cock. He then licked round the cock to make sure he hadn't missed any.
"You're a greedy bastard." said Sid. "I was hoping to get some of his fuck'n spunk."
"You've got to admit that Greaser gives a good blow job so he's entitled to the lot." said Ginger.

Greaser rose with a grin on his face. His prestige had been restored. This cunt had a lovely cock. Perhaps he might get it up his arse tonight if the guy was a pal of a Vandal. He pushed it back inside Steve greasy combats and buttoned them up.
"Let's go back to the pub for a drink." he said.
Ginger said "Frank and I have work to do. Well see you here at five o'clock."
Jake and Nobby said they would have to go but they would be back at five as well.
"Get the Fuck Card out and hang it round his neck before we go." said Sid.
The Fuck Card was a 16 inch square piece of cardboard with the words "FUCK ME - I LOST AT WRESTLING"
It was an open invitation to anyone to fuck the bound guy. The card was hung round Steve's neck and the gang left.

 

***

Chapter 4
Steve was aware he was now alone. He had walked into a trap and there was no way out until tonight when, hopefully, his pal Andy would be here. It was about 1 o'clock when he came into the workshop. He had been here about an hour so it would be 2 o'clock. Ginger said he would be back at 5 o'clock. Three hours to wait.
In fact it was only half an hour he had to wait until someone arrived. He heard voices coming into the workshop.
"Hey. This cunt's got quite a good body." a voice said.

Seconds later Steve felt a hand running down his chest to his crotch. Another hand was rubbing his arse.
"A well shaped arse." said a second voice. "According to Greaser he beat this cunt at wrestling, but Sid told me it was this cunt who beat both Frank and Greaser."
"Yes. That's what Ginger told me. You know what Greaser's like. He hates to admit defeat."
"Let's fuck the bastard anyway."
"He's got a big pair of tits. Where's the tit clamps?"

Seconds later Steve let out a silent gasp as the first tit clamp was secured. Seconds later the second one was applied. His half limp cock started to rise again. Someone opened his combats and took out his cock and balls and started wrapping a rope round them. After four rounds of rope a weight was attached. Steve let out a muffled gasp as the weight pulled his bulging cock down.
"I like to see a guy getting a hard on when the weights are applied. It means he wants to be fucked."
"Well. What are you waiting for? Get your fuck'n cock up the cunt."

Steve couldn't see his visitors but could picture them in filthy greasy jeans or overalls and with big cocks. He could smell diesel and stale oil and he would quickly find out he wasn't wrong with the big cock.
Hands gripped his hips and something probed the crack of his arse. Suddenly he felt a cock being rammed up it. He was expecting it but he still gave an involuntary gasp. The cock was slowly withdrawn then rammed in again. It was repeated faster and faster until the guy started breathing heavily then suddenly yelled as his spunk shut up Steve's arse.
The guy let out a whimpering sound as he reached his peak and kept his cock in the bound guy's arse.
"O.K. Get your fuck'n cock out of the cunt's arse and let me have a go." said the second voice.

A minute later another cock was rammed up his arse. Steve was beginning to wonder if he had made the right decision to come on the Friday afternoon.
About forty minutes later three more guys entered the building and within minutes he was being fucked again. Three cocks up his arse in fifteen minutes and he was left in peace.
There were no other visitors until about 5 p.m. when he heard voices and he recognised some of them. The first was Greaser's, the Hells Angel with the scarred face. Then the voice of Ginger. A few minutes later the sack covering his head was removed. Standing beside Ginger were two guys in greasy army overalls. He immediately recognised one of them as his old pal Andy. The latter saw him and a wide grin appeared on his face.

"Is this your mate?" asked Ginger.
"It certainly is." said Andy. He walked slowly round Steve looking at his filthy tight fitting combat gear.
"Sorry about that. We'll untie him and he can fuck any of us as compensation." said Ginger.
"No. Don't release the bastard now." said Andy as he rubbed Steve's arse. "He was instructed to be here at 2 p.m. tomorrow afternoon. He was in the marines. He knows what orders are and he disobeyed his instruction. A marine who disobeys orders should be punished. Wait until I ram my cock up his arse, and if anyone else wants a fuck they are welcome. Then we might release him."
The other guy in army overalls said "I'll take you up on that offer."

In less than a minute Steve's ex-army buddy was ramming his cock up his arse and three minutes later he groaned as his spunk shot into the bound guy's arse. A minute later the other guy in army gear was ramming his cock up Steve's arse. This was followed by two guys in greasy jeans. Only then was Steve released.

Andy explained to Steve that he now used the name Buster and that was why the others were suspicious. Apparently a plain clothes cop had been nosing around only two weeks previous and had arrested another gang member for stealing cars.
Ginger said "Your arse has had quite a lot of visitors. If you want some action for your cock you're welcome to stay for the rest of the night."
"My cock could certainly do with some action. All these greasy horny guys have had my pre-cum juice running all afternoon."

"How about something to eat." said Buster, "There's a burger bar down the road and Charlie, who owns the Grease Monkey will order hamburgers, chicken chunks or fish and chips (French fries). The burger bar will deliver them to Charlie's within ten minutes. If you want to change into your own clothes we can go over and eat."
Steve looked down at his filthy greasy torn combats. He liked the feel, the smell and look of them. He remembered when he arrived at the Grease Monkey that afternoon there were guys in filthy gear.
He said "Would it be OK if I went this way?"
A wide grin appeared on Ginger's face. "Dress that way and you'll be accepted by Charlie right away."
"Yes. You're almost a Vandal already."

Steve looked round the room, at the stool with the built-in butt plug, the shit pan, the stocks, the filthy wrestling mat, the various rings in the wall.
"When we come back we might try out one or two of your toys." said Steve.
"Don't worry. When we come back I will make sure you try out everything." said Andy.
Slasher said "We like to tie a guy to the shit pan and put a tube down his throat and make him drink a lot of piss."
He added "You and I are going to have another wrestling match and the loser is going to be tied to the shit pan."

Frank grinned and said "I want another match with you and the loser is going to sit on that stool with the eight inch butt plug up his arse and his wrists tied to the rings on the wall above his head. Now that I know what you can do I will be better prepared, . . and this time I'm going to win."
Steve felt his cock swell with the thought of a very horny night ahead.

He said to Ginger "Did I hear you say that you might be looking for a guy next week at your scrap yard? If so I might be interested."
 
 
 

END

 

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