It's Good To Be The Bull

Literotic asexstories – It's Good To Be The Bull by PaxNurgle,PaxNurgle
DISCLAIMER: Contains scenes of extreme fetish, golden showers, and cuckolding; if you are offended by such content, then do not proceed.

This story is a “Companion” to “The Return to San Ramiro,” only, it is that story as told from the perspective of the “Bull.”

To make any kind of sense, I’ll have to go back to when all this nuttiness started. One day after work.

It had been a Thursday. I remember that. “Think I’ll head down to the Stingray Club for a beer,” I thought to myself, after wrapping up “Another day at the office.” The office being, the mansion my crew and I were building for our client. One of those new faux Spanish styled places up in the hills, which old man Rathmann was paying for. The guy was kind of a blowhard, but he paid handsomely, and it was a lucrative gig. We had just put the finishing touches on the framing, and tomorrow we would begin the arduous task of putting the roof on, while the subcontractors started the plumbing and electrical work on the first floor.

So, I was in a relaxed mood, and, after checking to make sure everything was secured and leaving the job site, I rolled on down to the beach flats, and pulled into the parking lot of the Stingray.

They came up to me almost as soon as I rolled into the parking lot and stepped out. Both of them hot, gorgeous girls. The taller one, a hot redhead in a tube top and almost scandalously short shorts, sauntered right up to the truck and was like, “Hey man, nice ride!”

“Thanks!” I said, taken aback. Her friend giggled. She was slightly shorter, almost petite, with shoulder length dark hair, and she was dressed in a tiny leather skirt, leather boots and a skimpy latex top. The total slutty goth type, which was never my thing…but this girl was fine! Tanned, beautiful, and exotic looking, she definitely looked like she would be fun. She also looked kinda young, but as it turned out, she was clearly old enough to drink- and that was good enough for me.

“I’m Frank.” I said. “Just got off work. You ladies wanna go inside have a drink?”

“Sure! The redhead replied. “Oh, I’m Lacey, this is Aurora,” she said. “So where do you work?”

“Lacuna Hills and Yarrow. Pine Flats subdivision. At least, at the moment,” I told them.

“No, I mean, what do you do?” (All these questions….but hey, this is cool, I almost never have cute girls come up to me like this. Today’s my lucky day, I thought.)

“Well I’m self-employed, I own a construction company, and this is my work truck. I’m building a house over in the Pine Flats Subdivision. For some guy named Rathmann, one of those rich fat cats.’

“Oh my God…Not George Rathmann?” Aurora asked.

“Yeah! You know the guy? He’s a rich developer type.”

“I think I like, know his wife. Oh my God, how weird, small world!” Aurora replied. (Whatever…I thought.)

“Hey, let’s just go in and I’ll buy you guys a drink. Whatever you want. We can sit out on the back patio ’cause it’s nice out.”

So, before long, the three of us were sitting outside on the back patio, scarfing down whiskey and cokes and chatting about nothing in general. These girls were nice enough, and cute as heck. As for me, I had just become newly single. My ex, claiming she “Couldn’t take any more of your bullshit” had just up and left me. Of course, I was pissed, but I figured at least without her constantly badgering me, I’d be able to get some more stuff done and relax a little more. I did miss her, but the last couple months we were together had been a bit unbearable. I didn’t want to dwell on that with these girls though. I was, after all, still looking for some kind of companionship, even if it was short term.

These girls were cute though. Especially Lacey, the redhead, who was a total flirt. “We just saw your big truck, and you looked cute, built good, and, well you know what they say about big trucks!” she said, giggling.

I loved that she was forward like that. “So tell me about yourselves; what do YOU do?” I asked her.

“Well, I’m actually married…” (DOH!!!) “…but my husband and I have an open relationship, so we both see other people on the side. Don’t worry, he’s cool with it.”

“Well, as long as he’s cool with it.” I laughed. So what do you do for a living?”

“Oh, I just have this bookkeeping gig for my husband’s business. Nothing big.”

Aurora said that she worked part time at a retail store that sold rock and roll merchandise, t-shirts, apparel, and “Fetish wear” as she put it. The way she was dressed, that didn’t surprise me. I told them boring work stories about framing houses that they at least pretended to be interested in, and overall, it seemed like we hit it off.

After a couple drinks, the two girls went off to the bathroom together. I’d seen this kind of thing before. This was the part where they get together, and, giggling, make comments to each other about “So, you think he’s cute? Or is he kinda gross? Do you think I should hook up?” and so on. I knew the drill, and it didn’t bother me. Let them gossip and have their little girl chat. I, for my part, had to decide which of the two of them I was interested in. Both of them were hot, but I had to admit, I kinda had a thing for redheads- even married ones. And that way, it wouldn’t lead to anything serious, as I wasn’t sure I was really into that yet.

When they got back to the table, we resumed the conversation, and they started asking more personal stuff. Are you married, are you seeing anyone, and so on. Then, came the fateful question:

“Hey, I was wondering…” Lacey said.

“Okay?”

“Well, you know how I said my husband and I have an “open relationship?” You see, there’s this private club. It’s out on an island out in the channel. It’s a swinger’s club. Anyway, there’s a party out there this coming Saturday, and we were, uh….we were wondering if maybe you might want to come check it out with us!”

What, a SWINGER’S club? With these two? I thought about it for exactly one micro-second.

“Hell YEAH, I said. As long as you guys are there!” I had never been to any such place; I thought those were only rumors, stories that guys told to each other! “So, like, this swinger’s club, you guys want me to come? That’s be awesome!”

“Yeah, as long as you’re clean, drug free, and healthy… well, actually would you be willing to get tested first, you know, for like…”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it. Sure, whatever you need. I can do that.”

“Great! We actually have a guy who works with our club. We’ll set that up.”

“So, it’s next Saturday huh? Sure! Uh, can I have your number?” I asked Lacey.”

Giggling, she and Aurora both gave me their numbers, and asked me to call them later in the week to finalize plans.

And I suppose, that was really the start of all this.

A couple days later, before I had a chance to call her, Lacey actually called me. She wanted to set up a doctor’s appointment. She told me that if I wanted to actually join their swinger’s club, I needed to be tested for both hard drugs and STD’s. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I was thinking about going to a party and maybe hanging out with her and her friends, but actually joining an elite sex swinger’s club? Whoa, what am I getting into here? I decided to go along with it though. Why not; at least then I’ll get a clean bill of health for my own sake if nothing else. She also told me that both the doctor and his nurse practitioner were club members themselves, so they knew exactly what was going on.

So I made the appointment and went down and got a physical. Got jabbed, prodded, gave a urine sample, all that. “We don’t care if you smoke a little reefer, but just no hard stuff okay? We don’t want no junkies out there.” the doctor, who introduced himself as “Angus,” said.

“Yeah, no worries- I’m no frickin’ junkie. Just booze, thank you.” I replied. ‘So, if I pass, does that mean I’m in? You guys are both club members, right?” I added.

The nurse, a tall, gorgeous athletic brown haired girl, leaned over and explained:

“Well, that’s the first step anyway. But there’s a couple stages before you get to be a full member like us. It’s not automatic. After you pass your physical with a clean bill of health, there’s a formal judging out there, after your first day.”

“How’s that work?” I asked. I was lustily thinking about the nurse, and wondering what it would be like to party with her out on the island. I was having dirty thoughts already, I got to admit. I’d never even been out there yet, but I realized I’d already met three women from their club, and all of them had been sexy and beautiful.

“Well, the first day, you just hang out and meet the other members, and at the end of the day we bring you up for a formal hearing. As long as you’re not a creep, or a jerk, or some head case… and if we decide we like you, then you’ll probably get voted in. And, you’re tall, buffed, and good looking…” (So are you! I thought to myself) “…and that’s exactly what we want. That was why those girls initially approached you in the parking lot at the Stingray club. Actually, Lacey’s married to the owner of the island, and she happened to be out scouting for new members, and, well, she and Aurora found you!”

“Lucky me… Great!”

“Well, not so fast, you haven’t passed your physical yet”. The doctor chimed in. “We’ll let you know in a couple days once the lab results come back.”

Well, the lab did results come back fine, thankfully. And with that, the doctor instructed me to meet up with Lacey and himself, at the boat dock down at the harbor that Saturday afternoon.

That whole Saturday was kind of a blur. I drove down to the harbor, parked, and looked around, but luckily met up with Lacey, and the pair from the medical office right at the edge of the parking lot. Without the formality of the office, the pair were now introduced as “Angus and Arielle” and were dressed in a VERY relaxed manner- tiny red skirt and bikini top (which looked awesome on her) and typical shorts and Hawaiian shirt for him.

With them was a short, rather average looking guy in tiny cutoff shorts that were at least four inches too short to be worn, and a plain t-shirt. Arielle introduced him as “Fred.” She explained that the club needed people to “Do the dirty work” and basically keep the place running, your basic maintenance guys in other words, and old Fred here, was one of them. Or so it sounded like. As we rode out to the island on Lacey’s spacious yacht (nearly a hundred footer, she boasted) both girls, particularly Arielle, seemed to be rather haughty, verbally abusive and rude towards Fred, which made me a bit uncomfortable. Arielle seemed to enjoy bossing him around, and he would get all sullen but otherwise hang on her every word. I couldn’t fathom what the deal was with that, why they were treating him like that, or why the dude didn’t stand up for himself. The whole thing just seemed odd. I deduced quickly that Fred didn’t seem to be a full-fledged club member, rather, just some kind of paid employee of Lacey’s, but yet, if people treated like that, I’d probably quit and go work for…I dunno, Some fast food place or something. Or, for me; heck, if these girls put in a good word for him I’d hire him myself. I could always use more framers, even raw inexperienced ones.

I would learn later on that there was more going on here than I realized. Much, much more. We got out to the island and pulled up to the docks. The island was small, not much bigger than Alcatraz up in the San Francisco Bay, by the looks of it. It was a low, rocky outcrop rising maybe a hundred feet above the waves, and barely a half mile from end to end. Atop the island stood a water tank, a lighthouse tower, and a large, spacious three story mansion with ornate columns facing the mainland. When we pulled up to the docks at the water’s edge, I could already hear the sounds of partying, music blaring from the house, people splashing around in the pool, and a game of volleyball in progress.

We climbed out onto the dock and then, Arielle ordered Fred to carry a big cooler up to the lodge, and, to my surprise, whipped out a leather paddle and swatted him- not too softly either- on his ass. “Hurry up, slave bitch!” she ordered. Fred scurried off, carrying the cooler up the steps to the mansion’s back patio. Meanwhile, Lacey offered me a tour of the grounds. The island was only about 120 acres in size, so it was easy to quickly explore most of it. There was a huge rectangular pool, a wide grassy expanse, two ornate marbled outbuildings, which, like the mansion were roofed in red Spanish tiles. A gym and sauna, and a pool changing room. Beyond these, on the eastern side of the small island, was a utility building, and on the island’s southern tip was a wooded glade with four small cottages. Lacey explained that these would be available for couples who wanted to reserve them for the night and wanted more privacy. Though, she added, as this WAS a sex club after all, there were plenty of places where couples could co-mingle- and some couples with an exhibitionist streak were even known to do so right in the open! There was a beach on the southern tip facing out to sea, and another small beach on the northwest tip facing the mainland.

“So what’s the deal with Fred anyway?” I asked, as we walked back to the main house from the wooded area next to the cottages. “I mean, Arielle seemed so cool to me, but she seems like kind of a jerk to him, what’s the story?”

“Well, as you know, there is a judging for all potential new members. If you are in…you are one of us.” If you don’t make it, you either get sent home… or, you end up like Fred.”

“What do you mean? Like what?”

“Fred is what we call a “Rooster.” Or a “Slave slut.” This means, not only is his job to do all the maintenance- janitorial stuff, cleaning, maintenance, dishwashing, and so on, but he is our toy to boss around, tease, torment and humiliate. Like, in a bondage, sado-masochistic type thing. Some of us girls are into it. Aurora, for example, and especially Arielle. They get off on spanking, teasing, and ordering guys around, but the guys actually get off on it, too.”

“I don’t understand why any dude would get off on being treated like that.”

“Well, they are not allowed to have sex- even when not on the island, because we make them wear these chastity devices around their cock.”

“Wait, so they can’t even whack off!?!”

“Yeah, that makes them more docile, easier to control, because then they eventually get a special reward for good behavior- but only when we feel like letting them have it.”

“Wow, that’s fucked up! Why would anyone agree to that?”

“Well, some of them don’t, and if they don’t, we usually let them out of it pretty early on, and so they leave the club. But there are some dudes, who actually get off on being spanked and ordered around by us. I know it’s weird, but the thing is, we are not allowed to judge each other in this club. It’s one of our rules. Some guys would kill to be in Fred’s position, believe it or not…”

“…not ME!”

“…. And Aurora is now actually dating a guy who is a slave slut on this island. She hangs out with him outside the club, I mean, he’s her BOYFRIEND, but when she’s out here…”

“You mean she CHEATS on him?”

“Yup! And sometimes right in front of him, too. He’s her personal slave. She gets to boss him around, make him do humiliating things, and punish him in front of the rest of the club. That’s part of their deal though. It’s a different world out here.”

“I guess! You guys won’t do that stuff to me though. I’ll quit!” I said.

“We probably won’t. Don’t worry. I, for one, would vote for you in a heartbeat to get in as a full member. Because you’re a hot stud!” she said, playfully grabbing my crotch. My dick snapped to attention.

“But there’s just one thing; no sex allowed… until we DO vote you in. Okay?”

(Argh, what a little tease…)

“Okay,” I said.

I spent most of the evening socializing and meeting people. All the girls here were either really pretty or knock-out gorgeous; and even though I don’t really have an eye for these things (Trust me….it ain’t my thing) most of the men were prime physical specimens themselves- rock hard abs, good physique, and all that. One of the girls I met playing pool, a cute athletic blonde named Amy, said the place had pretty high standards as far as physique, but if anything, they were far more strict about the men than the women. I actually got nervous at that point. Oh well, if I don’t make it in, hopefully they’ll just send me home and there won’t be any of that weird slave shit.

Amy and I ended up shooting pool with this guy Tony. Tony and I hit it off pretty quickly. Similar backgrounds, blue collar, both liked bow hunting and heavy metal music. We talked about bands we liked, places we hunted, our gear, and all kinds of male bonding shit. He was a cool dude. After a bit though, this guy strolled up to us. Late 40’s, blonde hair, aging surfer type, and although casually dressed he seemed to have an air of someone important.

“That’s the owner of the place, Paul Ostermann.” Tony informed me.

“Hello, New Guy!” he said. “I’m Paul! Welcome to our island.”

“Head Honcho Paul, huh? Loving it. Like, the island of Doctor Love?” I was only kidding, trying to break the ice.”

“Head honcho, that’s me. Doctor Love. Ha ha, I like that. Yeah, I guess so. Having fun out here?”

The guy seemed cool enough, laid back, and I complemented him on the pad. “Great setup you got here! I love it! How did you afford this place?”

“Well, you know… real estate dealings. Business, investments, luck… blah blah, you know. Glad you’re having fun.”

“Yeah, man- it’s great!”

“Hey, uh… Got a minute? Why don’t you come with me to my yacht for a sec? We’re out of beer up here.”

“Wait, uh, isn’t the cooler over there full?” I asked.

“Uh, well, the other cooler needs to be stocked. I guess.”

I realized he was full of shit, since I had just checked both coolers while I sought out a cold Budweiser (having not yet acquired a taste for those $14.00 a six-pack type of beers) but I figured he was making some excuse to talk to me, and since I was the new guy, I went along with it. “Alright, dude…I’ll help you.” I said.

As we walked down to the docks I asked, “So, how come you didn’t ask one of those rooster, slave guys? Isn’t this their job?”

“Oh. So you know about that, do you. Well, you’re right, normally it is their job. But since you’re the new guy, it’s also the new guy’s job. Here we are; just grab a case from the freezer.”

I climbed onto the yacht, the same one I had rode in on with Lacey, interestingly enough, and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a case from the refrigerator. I started walking back before I realized that Paul himself was following me wasn’t carrying anything himself.

“Here you go, bud” I said, handing him a twelve pack.

“Good man. See, I was just fucking with you.” Paul said. “This IS typically the roosters’ job, after all.”

I didn’t get the joke, but what the heck. He just talked about the island and some rules and protocol stuff while we each carried a case of beer up to the mansion. As it turned out, all of the coolers were, in fact, plenty full of beer.

I noticed that Tony and Amy had grabbed a poolside table to watch the sunset, and so I rejoined them outside. Before too long, some big meathead dude, long braided hair in mini-dreadlocks, strolled up and barked at me, “Hey man, Dat’s my seat!”

“What the FUCK dude, I was here first! Who are you?” I said, suddenly annoyed.

Tony and Amy both stared at me. Nearby, I noticed that the doctor from the clinic the other day, Angus, had walked up behind him, hand in hand with Arielle. Everything had gone quiet. The last thing I wanted was some kind of confrontation, but the way everyone was staring at us, it almost felt like it was staged, like it was too perfect.