Targeted

The Party's Over

In another place a long way away, Gavin has discovered the truth.

The visitors just keep coming, admiring him and feeling his mound.

It has been mounded up (much to his embarrassment) with a tight cock-strap.

They all tell him what they want to do with him, when he's fully available.

The Rugby Club owner told him he was a prima donna with a reputation as a trouble maker.

He was a liability to the team and no-one wanted to play with him.

But the only way to get back what they'd paid for him was to sell him outside the transfer system.

In fact they had already sold him, he said. On the dark web, cutting out his agent. 

It was hard to take in. His playing days were over.

He protested, of course, it wasn't right, they couldn't do it, not to him.

Then two thugs entered the owner's office, overpowered him and tied him up.

They bundled his trussed-up, wriggling body into a van and took him away.

He'd never seen his new owner, just the minions who prepared him for public viewing.

He still had plenty of fans and many had already come, wanting to see him in the flesh.

They'd already worn out several sets of his special kit with their rubbing and mouthing.

Those with more money had pre-booked for a longer slot, a private session with him later.

Apparently his schedule was already booked up months and months ahead.

The true test of his popularity would be how long that state of affairs lasted.

When the fans forgot him and stopped coming he'd lose his star status.

Then he'd be farmed out for casual body rent - as long as his charms lasted.

After that a life of hard, manual labour was all he could look forward to.

~

Image by Cybertied

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