"Well, you're a little late but you're in the right place."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jeff apologized.  "I just found out about it."

"Don't worry about it, Jeff," Steve assured him, smiling.  "There's still time."  He wrote down Jeff's name on his clipboard.  "You look nervous." 

"I am.  A little," Jeff nodded, laughing nervously.

"Let me guess," Steve smiled.  "Your first time?"

"Yeah.  I've never done anything like this before."

"Just relax," Steve said.  He could tell Jeff had been drinking.  Maybe another drink or two would loosen him up even more.  "There's some beer on that table over there if you're thirsty."

"Thanks.  That'd be great," Jeff said.  "I'll be back in a sec."

As Jeff turned and walked over to the table, Steve took the opportunity to take a good long look at him.  He was wearing light flat-front khaki pants and a crisp pale yellow oxford that highlighted his tan.  As he reached for the beer he knocked an empty can to the floor.  As he bent down to pick it up Steve caught his breath.  Jeff had a nice round ass and he could make out brief lines.  Oh yeah... this guy was hot.  Jeff turned around and started back to where Steve was standing.  Mmmm... nice crotch, too.  It looked like Jeff was packing some heat.

"So..." Jeff said slowly.  "Is there a costume or something that I have to wear?"  He took a swig of the beer.

"Yeah.  Let's go pick something out," Steve said, leading him to a rack of costumes.  "Your choice."

Jeff took another drink of beer and sorted through the various outfits, finally settled on a Zorro outfit, complete with cape, sword and eye mask.

"Good choice," Steve said, nodding approvingly.  The costume would be really snug on this stud and show off all his curves and bulges.  "There's velcro up the sides of the pant legs so they'll break apart easily.  Same thing with the shirt.  Now, let's find you a pouch."

Jeff looked confused.  "A pouch?"

"Yeah, a dancing pouch.  A g-string.  Unless you plan on stripping naked."  He held up a few skimpy thongs.

Jeff blushed.  "Oh, I don't know about that.  Don't you have anything else?  Something a little less revealing maybe?"

"Sorry," Steve said. 

Jeff frowned.  "I don't think I can do it then."

Steve wasn't about to give up, though.  This stud was making his dick drool.  He had to get him to dance.  "You don't have to wear the thong if you don't want to," he said, hoping to somehow entice the half-drunk man to stay.  "You could just strip down to your underwear."  Fuck!  If he could just give this guy a few more beers... lower his inhibitions... maybe he'd strip down and dance in his briefs...

Jeff thought about what Steve said for a second.  Too bad he wasn't wearing boxers.  He used to wear boxers before he went into the Marines, but in Boot Camp all the recruits had been required to wear white briefs and over time he had gotten so used to them that he ended up switching permanently, even when he left the Corps.  Plus, he had a big dick and big low hanging balls and he liked the support and comfort that briefs offered. 

Steve could tell that Jeff still wasn't convinced so he tried another tack.  He held up the mask.  "You know, you can keep this on if you want, too."

"Really?"  Jeff looked at the mask.  It was made of black velvet and looked like the one the Lone Ranger wore.  While he didn't exactly relish the idea of dancing around in his tighty whities, the thought of dancing in a g-string absolutely mortified him.  But he needed the money, and if he could keep the mask on...  He drained the beer.  "Fuck it," he said, turning to Steve.  "I'll do it.  Those fuckin' bitches won't know what hit 'em.  Fuckin' Tom Cruise.  He wishes his dick was half the size of mine."  He grabbed his crotch jokingly.

"Way to go, man," Steve said, clapping him on the back.  So, Jeff was going to dance in his underwear!  Steve was dancing on the inside, barely able to conceal his glee.  He couldn't wait to see this stud stripped down, gyrating that nice fuck bulge.  Too bad it would only be for the ladies.  He looked up and saw Eric, one of the other managers, trying to get his attention.  "Wait right here for a minute, will you Jeff?  I need to talk to Eric over there for a second.  Help yourself to another beer."

Eric dragged Steve into his office and closed the door.  "Oh man!" Eric exclaimed, rubbing his hands together excitedly.  "Who is that?"

"Just a hot last minute sign-up," Steve said nonchalantly.  "Why?"

"Because," Eric said, "if we play our cards right, he could be tonight's fuck."  A big grin spread across his face.  Every now and then a really hot guy came in for the amateur night dance contests.  Unfortunately the poor guy never made it to the stage.  He usually spent the better part of the night spinning in a Rohypnol-induced haze, bent over a table in a back room while Steve, Eric and a few of the other guys fucked him silly.  Jeff looked to be headed in the same direction.

"Mmmppff!" Steve remarked.  "The poor dumb fuck thinks he's gonna be shaking his stuff in front of a bunch of chicks."

"What was he thinking?  Doesn't he know that half the dancers in these places are gay?"

"I don't know, but he's half drunk.  Plus, he doesn't strike me as being the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean," Steve said.

"Yeah, but he sure is the prettiest," Eric said, peering through the blinds on the door.  The humpy ex-Marine was leaning against one of the lockers, drinking his beer, staring vacantly at the wall.  "Just look at him!  He's a walking, talking, fucking wet dream!"

"He is a stud!" Steve agreed, looking back over his shoulder.  "But we gotta work fast.  I'll go back out there and you get the drinks ready."

"Let's not use roofies, though," Eric said, reaching into his desk drawer.  "I got something better."

"What?"

"Just a little something new," he replied while rummaging through the drawer, finally locating a small vial of liquid.  "Got it from Sam.  This stuff'll knock him on his ass.  He's not gonna know what hit him.  It'll be like he's totally drunk.  He'll be putty in our hands.  Hot, horny putty.  Real easy to manage, too.  And the best part is he'll know what's happening most of the time."

"Really?" Steve asked, intrigued.

"Oh yeah.  He'll be out of it for about half an hour and probably won't remember much during that time, but after that he'll know what's up.  He just won't be able to do anything about it.  Using roofies could work, but he'd be in a fog the whole time and that's no fun," Eric said.  "And this stuff'll make him horny as hell.  I think it's hot that he'll know what's happening.  Don't you?"

"Fuck yeah," Steve said.  "Let's video it and take pictures.  I doubt a big stud like him will report it."

Eric patted Steve on the back as they walked back to where Jeff was standing.  "Just follow my lead," he whispered.  He grabbed another beer off the table.

Jeff looked up as they approached, smiling.  He was just finishing his beer.

"Jeff, this is Eric," Steve said.  "Eric, Jeff."

"Nice to meet you," Jeff said, shaking Eric's hand.

"So, you ready for your big night?" Eric asked.

"I think so," he replied.

"Steve says you're gonna dance in your underwear?" Eric asked.

Jeff shrugged and smiled shyly.  "It beats a thong."

Eric held out the beer.  "You might want another one of these then."

Jeff took the beer and twisted off the cap.  He took a drink.  "Thanks." 

Steve held up the costume.  "Alright then.  Let's go and get you into this thing.  You can change right over there.  Grab any locker that's free."

Jeff looked around him and, leaning in toward Eric and Steve, whispered.  "There aren't any fags in here, are there?  I'm not a homophobe or anything.  I mean, I used to have a couple of roommates who were fags, but they were cool.  I just don't want some fairy checking me out while I'm getting changed."

Actually, although Jeff didn't know it, he had been checked out before.  Thoroughly.  And on more than one occasion.  The first time was the weekend he graduated from Boot Camp.  He was out drinking with his buddies at a strip joint and passed out soon after they got back to the hotel.  Once he passed out it was nearly impossible to wake him up.  The guy he was sharing a room with discovered that fact.  The guy was in the bathroom when he heard a crash.  He came out to find that Jeff had rolled out of his bed and onto the floor.  He was sprawled out on the floor between the two beds, tangled in his sheet, wearing nothing but white briefs.  His friend to tried to wake him up but couldn't, so he picked Jeff up and laid him on his bed.  While doing so his hand accidentally brushed across Jeff's package.  He couldn't believe how big the bulge was and reached out to touch it again.  He was pretty hammered himself and the more he looked the more curious he got.  And the more curious he got the bolder he got.  Soon he had Jeff's underwear pulled down and tucked under his big nuts.  He took the flaccid piece of meat between his thumb and forefinger and after a few minutes of fondling it was at full mast.  The next thing he knew, he was sliding his fist up and down Jeff's fat fuck cudgel.  He ended up giving Jeff a blow job and then, for good measure, jacked him off again until he came for a second time.  The next morning Jeff nursed a terrible hangover but had no clue that his friend had done anything to him.  The next time it happened was about four years ago, right after he got out of the Marines.  He was living in a house in Point Loma with two guys, both of whom were gay.  The house was prime and, knowing the guys were gay, Jeff tried to hide the fact that he was homophobic when he answered the ad for a roommate.  But the guys could tell, no matter how hard he tried to cover it.  They only let him move in because he was so hot and they secretly hoped for an opportunity to get into his pants.  They didn't have to wait too long.  Two weeks after he moved in, Jeff's buddies dropped him off after a heavy night of partying, dead drunk.  His roommates came home soon after and found him passed out on the couch, a beer in his hand and the TV turned to a porno channel.  He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of nylon track pants with snaps up the sides.  They tried to wake him up but he was out cold.  They pulled the t-shirt up over his head and removed his shoes.  They peeled the sweats off, leaving Jeff in only his tightie whities and socks.  They played with the passed out stud for three hours and ended up milking two loads of jizz from his big dick.  Before they redressed him, they each shot a load down his briefs, making it look like he he'd had a wet dream.  The next morning Jeff had no clue that anything out of the ordinary had happened.  He didn't even think twice about the dried cum in his briefs; he figured it was just a wet dream.  After all, he had been watching a porno.  He lived there for almost three years, until he bought his condo earlier in the year, and his roommates quickly learned that once he passed out he was usually down for the count.  Over the following three years his roommates toyed with him several more times.  They even slipped him a roofie once and videotaped the session.  The guys had an extensive record of digital photographs.  The naïve jarhead never caught on, either.  If he'd had any idea of what the guys had done to him... the pictures they'd taken... the poses... the props...

"I don't think anyone here is gay," Steve said, winking at Eric.

"Cool." Jeff said, just tipsy enough not to catch on.  He unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off his body.  He was wearing a tight white t-shirt underneath that clung to his body, showing off his rippled muscles, broad chest, and pecs.  He had a 'Semper Fi' tattoo on his upper arm.

"Are you in the Marines?" Steve asked, pointing to the tattoo?  "Is it okay for you to be doing this?"

Jeff looked at the tattoo and shrugged his shoulders.  "Nah, I've been out a few years," he said.  "Don't ask, don't tell.  Fuck that shit," he huffed.

While Jeff was hanging up his shirt Eric walked over to a cabinet and opened it.  He pulled out a bottle and several shot glasses.  He came back a few minutes later balancing a large tray.

"Hey guys!" Steve called.  "Gather round!  Listen up for a minute."  The other dancers moved in and Steve handed shot glasses to each of them.  Eric filled them from a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red Label he was holding.  He raised his glass in the air.  "Here's to tonight!  Good luck!"

The guys tossed back their drinks, put the glasses back on the tray, and headed back to finish dressing.  Eric poured another glass and, while Jeff's back was turned, emptied the contents of the vial into it.  He held it out to Jeff.  "How about it, Jeff?" he asked.  "Would you like another?"

"Fuck yeah!" he laughed, reaching for the drink.  "If I'm dancing in my fuckin' tighty whities you can bet your ass I'm gonna have another drink!" 

That's just what Eric and Steve hoped he would say.  Jeff had come into the club already half-drunk, and during the short time he had been there had drunk three more beers and a shot.  He didn't hesitate in downing the second shot.  In fact, he grabbed the bottle and poured himself a third drink; just to steady his nerves, he said.  He smiled at Steve and Eric and set the shot glass down on the tray.  He had no idea that he had just been drugged.  Nor did he have any idea what was about to happen to him.

He sat down on the bench and took off his shoes and socks while Steve and Eric kept him busy with small talk for the next few minutes, stalling him long enough for the drugs to kick in.  The other guys went back to their line-up and were ushered out of the room.  After a few minutes Steve saw a slight change in Jeff.  He stood up and patted Jeff's shoulder.  "Come on buddy," he said.  "You'd better finish changing and get in line."

Jeff stood up and immediately swayed.  "Whoahhh..." he said, reaching out to Steve and Eric to keep from falling.  He shook his head.

"Head rush?" Eric asked innocently?

"Yeah," Jeff replied.  "Stood up too fast."

Steve elbowed him playfully.  "I thought maybe you were a lightweight or something!" he joked.

"Fuck... not in this lifetime!" Jeff said.

Steve noticed that Jeff's eyes were glazing over and he made his move while Eric grabbed a camera.  Steve tugged Jeff's t-shirt from his pants.  "Here, let me help you get this off."  He pulled the shirt up Jeff's sculpted torso.  His chest was broad and defined, with a light covering of hair, and it was obvious that he spent a good deal of time in the gym.  His nipples were the size of half dollar coins and stuck out like pencil erasers.  As Steve lifted Jeff's t-shirt he deliberately let the palms of his hands run up the dazed stud's chest.  Jeff shivered slightly and his nipples hardened.  He moaned lowly.

Steve smiled.  He looked down and noticed that Jeff's crotch had expanded.  He laid his hand on his lower back.  "Okay, buddy," he said.  "Go ahead and drop your pants."  He couldn't wait to get his hands on him.

The blush had drifted from Jeff's face and Steve knew the drugs had hit and that he was ready to be taken.  He watched as he clumsily tried to unbuckle his belt.  Steve reached over to help him and Jeff made no move to push him away or resist.  Then he unbuttoned his pants for him.  He couldn't believe it; still no resistance.  He lowered the zipper and slowly pushed the pants down.  The crisp white material of Jeff's underwear stood out in stark contrast to his nicely tanned skin.  Jeff wobbled slightly as Steve continued to push his pants down and leaned against him for balance.  The briefs were full-cut, with a plain white waistband, fit snugly, and showed off his round, firm butt and nice fuck bulge.  He was definitely packing something and it looked like he had the beginnings of a hard-on.  Jeff saw a bright flash and he thought he heard a click but there was a sound like surf pounding in his ears and he couldn't be sure.  He wasn't even aware that one of Steve's hands was resting on his ass, lightly rubbing it, and the other was cupping his nut sack.  He sat down on bench and tried to pull his pants over his feet.  Steve bent down and stripped them off for him, leaving him in nothing but his briefs.

"What's this?" Steve asked, looking at Jeff's chest.

"What's what?"  Jeff asked, looking down.  He was confused.  "What's wrong?" 

"You're gonna have to shave your chest."

"Oh," Jeff said, running his hand over his chest.  It looked like he was having trouble thinking.  "Wait... you didn't say anything about shaving.

"Well, I didn't... but I think you should if you want to win"

Jeff thought about it for a few seconds, staring at Steve through glazed eyes.  The room was starting to spin and now, for some reason, everything was starting to sound good to him.  "Okay, I guess.  If you think it'll help."  He started to stand up but stumbled and fell to the floor.  There was another flash and click as he crawled to his hands and knees, his hunky body moving from side to side, underwear stretched tightly across his ass.

"Whoah, you sure you're all right buddy?" Steve asked, helping the dazed stud to his feet, gently squeezing and stroking his ass.  Just as he thought, it was nice and firm.

"Yeah," Jeff said, leaning heavily against Steve to keep his balance.  "I'm fine, but that fuckin' Johnnie Walker is some good shit!" he slurred a little too loudly while Eric continued to take pictures.  "I'm feeling good!"

"Yeah, you feel good, too," Steve said as he copped another feel of Jeff's crotch, this time thumbing his hardening prick tip.  The dumb fuck had no clue.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pill and handed it to Jeff.  "Here, you'd better take this."