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From the Archives - Fir Hollow, ch. 15: On The Menu
🕑 Added 2024-12-12 20:38:31 +0000 UTC“What do you mean ‘where’s my uniform’? I’m dressed the way I always am,” Luke said, confused. He looked back and forth between himself and his boss, motioning to the straining polo that showed off his plump pecs, and the powerful arms that framed his sculpted, tapering torso. A pair of equally fitted pants highlighted his solid bubble below, and showed off just enough of a bulge to be noticeable without crossing the line. With his olive complexion and full head of carefully cropped, raven hair, Luke was one of the favorite servers on staff at the Clocktower. People would come in just to check him out, and the handsome young man was well aware of their lingering eyes. A small part of his ego enjoyed the attention, but for the most part he’d never grown comfortable with the idea of being so openly ogled. Luke knew his choice of attire only drew more of the very attention he resented, but it also led to higher tips, leaving the stuffy young stud constantly stuck between arrogance and embarrassment. He worked hard to keep his athletic frame in such stellar condition, but he didn’t want people tipping him just on his looks alone. He worked equally hard flitting between tables at the bustling boutique pub, and he’d prefer being known as a good waiter instead of just “the hot guy.” If he wanted that kind of attention he’d apply for a job with one of his trainers at Max.
“The fuck you are,” Tony grumbled, shaking his head. “You feelin’ okay, kid? Lucky for you we’ve got some spare stuff around here.” The older man lumbered off towards the closet that served as his office, nodding for Luke to follow. The confused hunk went along, bristling at the way his boss always called him “kid” despite his twenty four years of age. The bald, stocky bull of a man was only a dozen years older, but Luke might as well have been a teenager based on the way he was treated.
He focused on that resentment instead of his growing anxiety. Following behind, Luke didn’t know why a part of him felt like Tony was right. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but instead of entirely normal, he also started to view his fitted attire as out of place. He’d had a flash of that same sensation when he’d gotten dressed at home but he’d ignored it, just like he’d ignored the strange items and articles of clothing he’d seen scattered around his apartment. He hadn’t slept well and had already been running late, and he told himself he’d deal with it all when he got home.
The day had other plans. Luke just blinked, jaw hanging, when his boss opened a desk drawer and pulled out a pair of ridiculously small black briefs. The older man followed it up with a top that looked like the polo he currently wore, minus the sleeves and the bottom two-thirds. “You’re lucky there aren’t any specials other than the usual tonight,” Tony barked, tossing the skimpy clothes over.
Luke blushed as he held up the briefs, his heart racing. He’d slept poorly because his dreams had been filled with this exact scenario. He’d dreamt that he flitted around the restaurant in a variety of exotic, revealing outfits, every inch of his impressive physique fully on display. The briefs and cut-off polo were actually tame compared to some of the outfits he’d seen, but worse were the actions that went with them. His tables would casually grope and paw at him, and Luke had been both mortified and confusingly aroused whenever someone ordered from the “special” section. He didn’t serve food anymore, but himself. And despite having limited experience with men outside of the trainers at Max, the young hunk somehow knew exactly how to use his sculpted frame to push man after man over the edge. Bouncing up and down on a strange man’s lap in the back of the restaurant, working his supposedly-virgin hole with surgical precision, should have been a nightmare, but he’d loved it. More than the electric bliss rocketing up his spine he loved pleasing his customers, and making sure that no one ever left unsatisfied. Even in the dream Luke was aware that it should have been impossible, that the rest of the staff and customers shouldn’t be acting as if this was all routine. But no one so much as batted an eye.
It had something to do with the strange, geometric symbol that everyone wore. The circular, clockwork design was the same one that a customer had drawn on the tip line of their receipt the day before. Luke remembered being irritated, but he couldn’t recall why. He kept thinking that the person had been hitting on him, and while he knew he’d been egging it on in the hopes of a higher tip, Luke also knew the person shouldn’t have expected him to actually follow through on anything. He wasn’t one of the cheap, desperate hookups that prowled the bar. When the person became angry he’d actually told them that he wasn’t on the menu, but beyond that he couldn’t recall anything about the person who’d left the odd drawing. There was a blindspot in his memory, the bizarre sigil acting as a black bar redacting the information from his conscious awareness. In the dream he saw it everywhere; on pins, shirts, earrings, necklaces, and even decorations adorning the walls. It made a kind of surreal, dream logic sense at the time, but now, faced with the sudden reality of it all, Luke was desperate to remember anything he could about the person who’d drawn it.
“Wait...Tony, you can’t be serious,” the embarrassed young man stammered.
“As a heart attack. Now hurry up and get that tight little ass in gear,” Tony spat, looking annoyed.
Luke was undressing before he even realized it. He casually shucked his chinos and boxer briefs, his long, fat cock and heavy balls swaying openly in front of his boss and the full kitchen staff. He was relieved that no one seemed to be paying any attention, but the ease of it, how natural it all felt, made his stomach drop.
Luke wondered for a moment if he was still dreaming. He hoped he’d shoot up in bed the way he had that morning, rock hard and covered in the sticky remnants of copious nocturnal emissions. But there was no hazy dream logic this time. The intricate symbol was nowhere in sight, and yet there he was, slipping into a pair of skimpy briefs and pulling on a pointlessly small top that left the bottom of his protruding pecs and tiny nipples on display. A voice in his head screamed at him to turn and run, but Luke knew that even if he did there was no real escape. He’d seen the same kinds of unfamiliar underwear scattered around his apartment that morning, along with an odd assortment of vibrators, harnesses, and restraints. Whatever was happening stretched beyond the bounds of the restaurant, and there was a growing part of him that wasn’t convinced escape was even necessary. Looking at the discarded pants and shirt on the ground, Luke had the strange thought that he was surprised to even still own something so restrictive and old fashioned.
“Still with me, kid?”
Luke shook his head and looked up from his overflowing briefs, nodding. “Sorry, guess I’m still getting it together,” he said as he bent and scooped up his old clothes.
“Better pick up the pace on that. Gonna be busy,” Tony laughed, motioning for Luke to toss the pants and shirt in a corner. “Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of those. Come here...let’s get you situated.”
Luke gasped when Tony thrust a meaty hand into his briefs and began kneading his plump balls. The olive-hued hunk tensed, but instead of pulling away he just stood there, his head spinning. The sensation of the other man’s rough hand was somehow familiar, and Luke felt the tension fade as images of Tony’s broad frame bent over the desk began to filter in. The older man was married with a pair of kids, but Luke suddenly remembered how much Tony also loved writhing at the end of his dick. The many hours they’d spent after closing, with the beefy man’s broad frame splayed out on one of the tables, his meaty pecs bouncing as Luke hammered into him, flashed through the younger man’s mind in an instant. He grinned, ignoring the screaming voice in his head as his cock surged to life.
“That’s better,” Tony said, pulling his hand free and giving Luke’s tented bulge a bounce. “You know how it is...give ‘em a taste so they want the whole thing.”
“Always,” Luke nodded. He laughed when Tony gave his ass a swat on the way out the door, smiling at the bustling kitchen staff as he passed, his anxiety not creeping back until he’d stepped out onto the floor.
Looking at the fully dressed crowd, the reality of his situation came crashing back down. For an instant, he was painfully aware that he was nearly naked and hard in public, about to spend the next several hours serving people in ways he’d never imagined. As he scanned the faces turning in his direction, Luke was further mortified at the number of customers he recognized. It wasn’t uncommon in such a small town for him to wait on people he knew outside the restaurant, but he’d never had a reason to give it a second thought. Now, though, friends from around town, people he’d gone to school with, regulars; they were all seeing a side of him that Luke would have much preferred stayed private. And as he smiled and nodded back, that pit in his stomach grew deeper when he began to remember all of the things he’d done with each of them.
Luke wasn’t sure if he should be terrified or relieved that the anxiety was so short lived. It fled as quickly as it came, leaving the exposed stud with the same dizzy disorientation he’d been wrestling with all day. It was growing stronger with each passing moment, and Luke was constantly having to remind himself that anything was at all out of the ordinary. He kept searching peoples’ faces for any sign of awareness that something about his appearance was wrong, but all he saw were a mix of friendly, lustful expressions. He took a deep breath as he approached his first table, the motion simultaneously accentuating his barely covered pecs and shredded washboard. Luke was almost there before the difference in his surroundings finally registered and he noticed the large, curtained sections. Instead of walking up to a standard table or booth he was headed towards a series of broad enclosures that lined the back wall. He didn’t know where they’d come from or why he kept thinking of it as his section, but like everything else, it was all he could do to acknowledge that it was wrong, let alone stop or question any of it. Each of the cabana-like spaces had chairs on either side of a sturdy, foldable table, and Luke blushed when he remembered that they weren’t made for eating. Not food, anyway.
“How’s it going, Seth?” Luke surprised himself by how casual he sounded. Based on the tone of his voice alone, no one would have been able to tell that he was standing with his tented briefs pointed directly at the older man.
“I’m alright, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Seth laughed, cocking his head to the side as he eyed the younger man. “Rough shift already?”
Luke shrugged. “Rough day,” he sighed. His stomach fluttered as he watched Seth’s eyes make several passes up and down his athletic frame. The other man had been a frequent customer for as long as Luke had worked at the Clocktower, but this was the first time the dark-haired server had ever paid attention to how handsome Seth was. Silver hair, slender-but-solid frame, fine, pointed features; the older man had a distinguished confidence about him that was suddenly overwhelming. Like his appearance, Luke had never paid much attention to the fact that Seth was twice his age, but now the thought of the handsome older man taking charge, and taking him, made him ache. The younger man’s straining briefs twitched noticeably as the memory of Seth’s other features began to filter in, specifically the long, thick cock that felt like it slipped all the way up his spine to hit the bliss-inducing pleasure centers of his brain.
“Maybe I can help turn it around,” Seth grinned, watching the younger man’s spasming briefs. “I think I’ll stick with the usual tonight.”
“Sounds good to me,” Luke said, the anxiety punching through again as he turned around to shut the curtain. He looked out on a busy dining room, his coworkers darting between tables while people casually went about eating their meals. As crazy as it sounded, Luke knew that in just a few moments a thin curtain would be all that separated him from the rest of the crowd. While they chatted and ate their food, he’d be sprawled out on the table behind him, legs in the air, letting Seth hammer away. He was suddenly grateful for the general noise of the place, how the sound echoed throughout the old building’s interior, though he knew it wouldn’t fully cover his whimpers and moans.
Luke was surprised by his eagerness when he turned back around and saw that Seth had already fished his plump hose free. The part of his brain that still belonged to a world that made sense kept screaming at him, kept trying to tell him the sight of the older man’s cock shouldn’t make his mouth water, but Luke couldn’t have stopped even if he’d wanted to. Which, he was shocked to realize, he didn’t. Instead of running away, he flashed a seductive smile and sauntered over to where Seth sat, pulling down the back of his briefs before dropping onto the other man’s lap. He wedged the inflating cock between his granite globes as he swiveled his hips, working the lengthy rod to full mast. His powerful quads flexed with the motion, his arms following suit when he folded them behind his head to let Seth’s roaming hands glide across his chiseled torso. The young hunk had a flash of memory as he squirmed, his head filling with images of himself giving lap dance after lap dance. Single customers or large groups; it didn’t matter. If it was on the menu, and they could pay, it was fair game.
The old Luke would have blushed when he looked down and saw all the various items on that menu. Everything from “The Shimmy,” a striptease, “The Solo,” where they’d watch him jerk off, “The Open Wide,” where he’d blow them, up to full-on fucking for the “Main Course,” with other variations and options in between. Luke whimpered as Seth tweaked his nipples, more from the overwhelming flood of memory than the actual sensation. He was reliving it all at once, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that none of it had ever actually happened. Seeing himself strutting around in leopard print jocks, loincloths, leather, lycra, harnesses, and all manner of lingerie, Luke tried to tell himself none of it was real, but the familiar ecstasy of Seth’s hot breath on the back of his neck told him otherwise.
Though at the moment, Luke was so worked up from the crushing tide of lustful recollection that he didn’t care. He practically threw himself forward onto the table, flipping over so that he was on his back. He knew Seth liked to look at him when they were together, but it never once occurred to him to wonder why or how he knew that. He pursed his soft lips and squirmed instead, lifting his muscled legs to let the older man pull his briefs free. When they settled on Seth’s deceptively strong shoulders it was like coming home after an extended vacation. Luke gave a contented sigh, the familiar sensation of his body being tugged towards the edge of the table and onto the older man’s pulsing rod a welcome return to normalcy after his anxious morning.
“OOOOOOooohhhhhh…” he groaned, arching his back and clutching at his short, dark hair while the silver fox began slowly working up speed. Luke watched his own girthy club slap uselessly against his abs while Seth plunged in and out, unable to hold back the ecstatic expressions playing across his face. It struck Luke as odd that he’d even want to. The handsome young man knew it was all part of the job, a way to make sure they left satisfied. The idea that he should ever be quiet or stoic during sex was ridiculous. He needed to let his bliss be seen and heard. “Fuuhh...fuck...Seth...this is...incredible…” he panted, his brown eyes wide as he gazed up at the other man. He now actively ignored the voice telling him his plump pecs shouldn’t be bouncing from the force of another man’s dick inside him. He wanted the voice to stop, not Seth.
“Told you we’d turn it around,” the older man purred. He reached down and grabbed Luke’s cock to give the oozing beast a few tugs, laughing at the younger stud’s pained expression. “Though I have to...say...you’re really...something else right...noouuhnnngg…!”
Luke clamped a hand over his mouth to dampen the howl that erupted in time with Seth’s spurting cock. The sensation of the warm fluid hitting his insides pushed the penetrated hunk over the edge. It was as if his body absorbed the other man’s release and shot it out through his own spewing geyser, his every, ample muscle feeling like it was melting and following behind.
They caught their breath in silence for a moment. Seth gazed down at the shell-shocked stud while Luke blinked and searched in vain for the dread that appeared to have been blown out through his spent member. They stayed quiet when the young man reluctantly slid off the table and began cleaning up both himself and the area. He let the older man watch, waiting until it was all done to slip back into his tiny briefs.
“Lovely as always,” Seth said, giving Luke’s solid rear a squeeze.
“Are you going to stiiihhh…” he broke off in a quick whimper when the older man slipped his fingers into the bottom of his briefs, wedging in a few bills and giving his hefty balls a final tickle. “...stick around for dinner,” Luke finished, loving the feeling of the money rubbing against his inner thighs.
Seth nodded. “I’ll grab a table in the dining area. Maybe if it’s a slow night I’ll come back for dessert before I leave.”
Luke slid the curtain open and looked over at the four other rooms, all filled to capacity, and the several men that appeared to be waiting for an open table in his section. He grinned, his stomach fluttering and his cock already throbbing at the waiting crowd. It was going to be a busy night.
