Chapter 22: Apartment Party
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The door to apartment 1221 was propped open by a sneaker wedged beneath it, the hinges squeaking slightly as the group stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of spilled beer and something sweetly herbal—vanilla candles burning low in glass holders scattered across surfaces, their wax pooling like slow-moving lava. The balcony doors were thrown wide, a rectangle of flickering streetlights cutting through the dim living room. A Bluetooth speaker hummed a low, bass-heavy track, the rhythm pulsing through the soles of Derek’s feet as he stepped onto the hardwood floor.
The other balcony party had moved en masse—now, a dozen or more strangers lounged in mismatched chairs, huddled in corners, or stumbled across the open space of the apartment with drinks in hand. All eyes turned toward him the moment he walked in.
Derek’s breath hitched. The taste of cum still lingered on his tongue, a shameful reminder of what he had just endured—and what awaited him here. His shirt clung to his back, the fabric damp from sweat, and beneath it, the chastity cage pressed against his trapped flesh. He kept his hands tucked into his pockets, fingers twisting the fabric nervously.
He walked in on shaky legs. His ass still ached and burned from the pounding Janice and Kathy had given him. His head was bowed in shame, knowing that this group of people had watched him being degraded across the street.
He could feel their collective gaze as if it were a physical weight pressing down on him. The party around them seemed to pause for just a moment as he entered, the low hum of conversation muffling slightly as all attention turned to him.
Kayla, still gripping his arm possessively, led him forward with a confident stride. "Alright, everyone, this is Derek," she announced loudly, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "He just gave Janice and Kathy a crash course in pegging," she added with a wicked grin, gesturing toward the two women who followed closely behind him.
"So if you want to try it out, he's your guy."
A chorus of laughter erupted from the gathered crowd, some of whom hooted and catcalled in obvious appreciation. Derek kept his eyes fixed on the floor, his face burning with a mix of humiliation and reluctant arousal. The chastity cage pressed against him with every step, a constant reminder of his submission.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark curly hair detached himself from the group near the balcony and sauntered toward them, carrying two glasses of amber liquid. He had a lazy, confident walk that spoke of someone used to being the center of attention.
His t-shirt stretched tight over a chest that tapered down to a lean waist, and his dark jeans rode low on his hips. He held out one of the glasses toward Derek.
"Name's Levi," he said, his voice a smooth baritone. "From what I heard, you've earned a drink."
Derek accepted the glass automatically, the liquid inside catching the light. He took a sip before he could think better of it—bourbon, neat, the burn sharp and immediate. It grounded him slightly. He finally looked up, meeting Levi’s gaze.
Levi’s eyes were dark and assessing, but there was no mockery in them, only curiosity.
He took a slow sip from his own glass, watching Derek over the rim. The bourbon burned its way down Derek’s throat, clearing some of the shame that had pooled there like warm syrup.
A group of girls had descended on Kayla, Janice, and Kathy. They were curious about the strapons and Kayla got them out of the duffle bag and passed them around.
The women fingered the silicone with appreciation and one of them, a petite redhead with a bold laugh, wrapped her hand around the base of the dildo. She ran her fingers along the ribs before shooting Derek a sly look. "Wow, he took this big thing up his ass?" she asked, squeezing the shaft gently. "That must have hurt." There was a murmur of agreement from the other girls.
A brunette with a heart tattoo on her wrist stepped forward, her eyes glinting with mischief. She placed a hand on Derek's shoulder and squeezed, her touch surprisingly gentle for all the bravado. "So, what’s it feel like?" she asked, her voice soft but curious. "Having something that big inside your ass?"
Derek swallowed hard, the bourbon doing little to soften the memory of the silicone stretching him open. He opened his mouth to answer, but Kayla beat him to it. "Well, I'll tell you this. He came on the floor while he was getting fucked."
The brunette laughed, and Derek felt the heat rise to his face. The shame wasn’t just lingering—it was festering, spreading through him like a slow poison. He wanted to say something, anything, to reclaim a shred of dignity. But the words wouldn’t come.
Levi stepped closer, his shoulder brushing Derek’s as he took another sip of his drink. The bourbon had warmed him, loosened something inside. "You’re taking their attention well," he murmured, low enough that only Derek could hear. "Most guys would be cowering in the corner."
Derek exhaled sharply. "I just don’t want to make it worse."
Levi chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “Worse for who? You think they’re judging you?” His dark eyes flicked over the gathered crowd, then back to Derek. “They’re not. They’re impressed, and curious. I don't doubt one of them would love to try you out.”
Levi's voice was quiet, almost conspiratorial. His hand rested lightly on Derek's lower back in a way that felt more like a command than comfort. The warmth of his palm seeped through Derek’s damp shirt, grounding him in the moment. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t have the strength to.
Across the room, Kayla caught his eye and smirked, her lips curling around the rim of her plastic cup as she took a long sip of whatever fruity concoction she’d mixed tonight. She nodded at him, just once—a silent signal, heavy with implication. *He’s yours if you want him.* The thought sent a jolt through Derek’s chest, sharp and unwanted.
He shouldn’t want that nod. He shouldn’t want *any* of this. But the bourbon in his hand was nearly gone, the burn of it still curling in his gut, and Levi’s hand on his back—firm, possessive—felt like the only thing keeping him upright.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Levi’s profile in the corner of his vision. The man’s jaw was shadowed with stubble, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he thought. Derek found himself staring at the way Levi’s throat worked as he swallowed another sip of his drink. The movement was deliberate, slow, like he was savoring the burn on purpose.
Derek's fingers tightened around his glass but he didn't look away. The bourbon worked its way through him, loosening muscles he hadn't realized were clenched so tight. Levi caught his stare and held it, unblinking. He had a look of clear lust.
Kayla's laughter cut through the moment like a knife - sharp, knowing, and just a little cruel. She sauntered over with Janice and Kathy in tow, their arms linked around each other's waists in a display of camaraderie that felt almost performance art. "Well well well," Kayla drawled, her eyes dancing between Derek and Levi.
"Looks like someone found their new favorite toy." She leaned in, her breath warm with the scent of vodka and something sweet, her lips curling into a smirk. "Tell me, Levi - you gonna break him in real nice or just fuck him until he can't walk straight?"
Levi didn’t break eye contact with Derek as he answered, his voice a low rumble. "Depends on what he needs." His hand on Derek's back shifted slightly, fingertips pressing just a little firmer against his spine. "What do you need, Derek?"
The question hung there, heavy with possibility. Derek’s pulse hammered in his throat, his mind scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t reveal too much.
The bourbon had dulled the edges of his humiliation, but not enough to make this easy. He shifted slightly under Levi’s hand, the warmth of it seeping through his damp shirt grounding him in a way that felt dangerously close to comfort.
“I—I don’t know,” Derek admitted, his voice rougher than he intended. The words tasted like defeat, but honesty felt safer than defiance right now. “The pain and humiliation seem to do something to me. I don't know why.”
Derek’s voice cracked slightly on the last word, the bourbon loosening his tongue in ways his mind hadn’t anticipated. He glanced down at his shoes, then back up at Levi through his lashes, the raw honesty of his words hanging between them like a confession.
Levi studied him for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, slowly, he set his glass down on the nearest surface—a coffee table cluttered with empty bottles and ashtrays—and took Derek’s untouched drink from his hand, setting it beside his own. His fingers grazed Derek’s wrist as he did, the touch deliberate, electric.
“Then you won’t have to think,” Levi murmured, his voice dropping even lower. "Do you want me to take you right here, in front of everyone? Did you know that statistically women watch more gay male porn than any other type? I'm sure they would enjoy a show." Levi finished, continuing to look into Derek's eyes.
"Or do you want to go into the bedroom and let me fuck you in private, where no one can see?"
Derek felt his breath catch in his throat. The choice was paralyzing, each option laden with its own weight of shame and desire. His mind raced, but his body seemed to have made its decision already—the way his fingers trembled around his glass, the way his pulse hammered in his throat, the way his trapped cock twitched against the unforgiving bars of the cage.
Kayla’s laughter rang out again, sharp and knowing. "Oh, this is *gold*," she said, clapping her hands together once. "Look at him, Levi.
He's already thinking about it. Derek, baby, tell us what you need." Kayla leaned in, her breath warm against Derek’s ear as she whispered, "Let him take you. Let everyone see what you really are."
Derek’s knees nearly buckled at the words, the bourbon and the weight of the moment crashing over him like a wave. He could feel the heat of Levi’s body close to his, the man’s presence suffocating in the best way possible. The chastity cage dug into his flesh, a cruel reminder of his own arousal despite everything.
Derek didn't think of himself as gay. It was the embarrassment, humiliation, and pain, that he seemed to seek above all else. The degradation that made his coch ache despite the unrelenting cage, the way others looked at him - with ownership, or with disgust. He relished the pain
The degradation that made his cock ache despite the unrelenting cage, the way others looked at him—with ownership, or with disgust. He relished the pain. He craved the obliteration.
“Here,” Derek whispered, his voice barely audible over the thumping music. He didn’t look at Kayla or the others, just kept his eyes locked on Levi’s dark, waiting gaze. “Do it here.”
A slow, predatory smile spread across Levi’s face. He didn’t ask if Derek was sure. He simply nodded, once, and his hand moved from Derek’s back to clamp around the back of his neck. The grip was firm, proprietary. “On your knees,” Levi commanded, his voice cutting through the music.
He didn’t shove, but the pressure was unmistakable. Derek’s body obeyed, sinking down onto the hard balcony tiles. The cold roughness bit into his kneecaps through his trousers. A hush fell over the immediate group, conversations dying as people turned to watch.
Levi unzipped his jeans with a sharp, metallic sound. He didn’t hurry. He made a show of it, pushing the denim down just enough. He was already hard, his cock springing free. It was thick, veined, and utterly demanding. “Open,” he said, not asking.
Derek parted his lips. The first touch was just the tip, a salty preview pressed against his tongue. Levi let him linger there for a moment, letting the crowd soak in the image. Then he slid his hand into Derek’s sandy hair, fisting it tightly at the roots.
“Now you’re going to suck it,” Levi announced, his voice pitched for the spectators. “And you’re going to do it until I tell you to stop. You understand?”
Derek managed a weak nod. The fist in his hair pulled, guiding him forward until Levi’s cock filled his mouth. It was bigger than Sven’s, stretching his jaws uncomfortably. Levi began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that immediately made Derek gag. Spit leaked from the corners of his mouth.
“Look at that,” someone murmured from the crowd.
“Jesus, he’s taking it all.”
Levi’s hips pistoned with more force, his cock hitting the back of Derek’s throat with each thrust. Derek’s eyes watered, his vision blurring the ring of legs and shoes surrounding them. He tried to breathe through his nose, a frantic, whistling sound.
“Tears already?” Levi grunted, looking down at him. He didn’t slow. “Good. Cry for us, bitch. Let everyone see how much you love it.”
The jeers started then, scattered at first, then building. “Choke on it!” a guy yelled. Laughter erupted, sharp and brittle. A girl’s voice, high and giggly, said, “Oh my God, his face!” Derek squeezed his eyes shut, but it only intensified the sounds—the wet, rhythmic noise of his own throat being used, the music, the cruel applause.
Levi’s thrusts became punishing, erratic. He was using Derek’s mouth like a toy, fucking it with a brutal, grinding intensity. Derek’s throat burned, his jaw screamed in protest. He felt his own trapped cock throbbing in its cage, a useless, frantic pulse.
Then Levi pulled all the way out, dragging his slick length over Derek’s lips. “Turn around,” he ordered, releasing Derek’s hair with a shove. “Hands and knees. Show them your ass.”
Disoriented, Derek scrambled to obey. The balcony tiles were gritty under his palms. He heard the rustle of Levi spitting, once, twice, then a cold, wet pressure against his hole. There was no prep, no mercy—just that brutal, invading spit.
“This is what you wanted, right?” Levi growled, his voice close to Derek’s ear. He positioned himself. “To be nothing but a public toilet?”
He pushed in.
The pain was immediate and blinding. Derek screamed, a raw, animal sound swallowed by the crowd’s roaring approval. Levi was huge, splitting him open with a single, relentless drive. He didn’t stop, didn’t pause for Derek to adjust. He just buried himself to the hilt and held there, letting Derek feel every inch.
“Tight little fuckhole,” Levi grunted, his hands digging into Derek’s hips. He began to move, short, sharp jabs that forced choked sobs from Derek’s throat with every impact.
The party was a wall of noise now—whistles, shouts, laughter. Someone had their phone out, the screen glowing in the dark. Derek could see the reflected light on the tiles beneath his face. He was a spectacle, a piece of live-action porn grunting under Levi’s relentless pace.
Levi leaned over him, his sweat dripping onto Derek’s back. “Tell them,” he panted, slamming into him. “Tell them what you are.”
“I’m—a fuckhole!” Derek gasped, the words ripped from him.
“Louder!”
“I’m a public toilet!” Derek screamed, the admission tearing through his shame and unlocking something dark and thrilling beneath it. The crowd whooped.
Levi’s rhythm broke, his thrusts becoming a wild, pounding sprint. He was chasing his own end, using Derek’s body as a means to get there. Each slam drove Derek forward, his knuckles white on the ground, his cock aching impossibly within its prison.
“Gonna fill this cheap whore up,” Levi announced to the room, his voice thick with strain. “Mark him from the inside.”
With a final, brutal series of drives, Levi shoved deep and stayed. Derek felt the hot, pulsing release flood into him, a violation so complete it bordered on ownership. Levi groaned, long and low, then slowly pulled out.
The crowd’s laughter and chatter swelled, filling the space where the violence had been. Derek collapsed onto his side, trembling uncontrollably, Levi’s cum already leaking out of him onto his trousers. He was hollowed out, used, covered in sweat and spit and his own humiliation.
Levi stood over him, tucking himself away. He looked down at Derek, his expression unreadable. He nudged Derek’s leg with his foot. “Good boy,” he said, almost casually. Then he turned and walked back toward the cooler of beers, accepting a slap on the back from a friend.
Derek lay there, spent and shaking, the cold tiles seeping into his bones. The party swirled around him, conversations restarting as if nothing had happened. He was just scenery now, a spent fixture on the balcony floor. He stared at the glowing city beyond the railing, his mind blissfully, terribly empty.