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Click hereNotice: this story uses pussy and tits refer to a trans man's body so don't read if you don't like that, but otherwise trans-friendly with no misgendering.
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At the end of lessons, he would head to the gymnasium, put on his white fencing suit, pick up a foil and practice his lunges in front of a mirror. It was quite hard to practice without a sparring partner, and so he would just use a mirror, using his own reflection as his opponent. Sometimes, he would pretend that if he was just fast enough, he would win against himself, as if he was watching himself on a screen and taking advantage of the camera's lag.
For about half an hour he would practice this, and then he would dress back into his usual clothes and head to work.
His work was in a building with very few signposts to what it actually was. He descended down a staircase and through a blank door. Once inside, he would be greeted by a receptionist who was a young woman with straight black hair, the sharpest eyeliner ever and a piece of bubblegum either in her mouth or stuck on a plate on her desk. She slid a clipboard over to him without a word and he would sign it without a word, and she would cast her apathetic gaze back to whatever she was doing as he carried on down the hallway.
When signing up to the job, every worker got their own room assigned. He entered into his room, number 7. It was a plain room, with a laminate floor and dark brown walls. In one wall was a hole, and hanging from the ceiling were some leather cuffs hanging from chains.
There wasn't much in the room to distract him from beginning his job. He took off his clothes and dumped them in the little fabric basket in the corner. Naked, he stretched one leg through the hole in the wall, and then the other, until his whole lower half was through. The hole had a soft platform at the bottom of it so that it didn't hurt to rest himself on it.
When it was time for work to begin, the security guard who was always just outside the rooms keeping an eye on things would come in to help set up. She cuffed his wrists into the leather restraints so that he was held up by them and his upper half was suspended. Then, in the other room where his lower half was - he had never seen into that room, but he heard that above his hole was a picture of his face, so that customers could see what they were getting - his ankles were also cuffed, so that his legs were spread as far as they were comfortable being for long periods of time, which for him, as an athlete, was quite far. This left his ass and pussy - both quite plump and soft - exposed on the other side, where he couldn't see. There was no way for him to close his legs throughout his shift.
Then, a few minutes later, the first customers would begin to arrive. He was quite popular, and he knew this just from listening to the sound - or lack of sound - coming from his fellow workers in the other room. Not long after he heard the first footsteps behind him, a dick wet with the lube provided would be pushing into his pussy, which by now had gotten used to being penetrated without much preparation. His hole would stretch around it, accommodating it, and then the client would get to work thrusting in and out, using his pussy to get off. It satisfied him that his tight wetness could be of some use.
And so, for a substantial amount of money an hour, his hole would be pounded by unknowable strangers and their dicks of all lengths and sizes. Most of the time, his pussy would stay lubed with all the cum dumped inside of him, frothing up with the friction of being fucked the longer the day went on. He also got wet as it was used, particularly when his G-spot was hit, but especially with the knowledge of how much he would be earning from it. Sometimes people even slipped bills through the hole and onto the ground below him, after giving him a pat on his ass, thanking him for being so good. This sometimes happened when he ground back against them, so he made sure to do that every so often.
It was a perfectly fine job; in fact, he got a lot of pleasure from it himself, and he didn't have to do much except try and relax so that customers could fuck him easily. The only con was the embarrassment of hearing how wet his pussy would get from being fucked, the wet slapping sounds as dick filled him all the way up with ease, like his pussy was made to be fucked like this.
And what was the reason that he was suspended on his upper half? There was a camera opposite him, filming him from that side. Some customers would pay just to see his face as he was fucked, and also his ample tits which swung with the momentum as his lower half was hammered by a stranger's cock, anonymous to both him and his audience. The other side was sometimes filmed as well on some nights; he got a good commission for these videos, as well as the photos of his stretched pussy at the end of the night, dripping with cum into a puddle on the ground. Of course, he was too embarrassed to look at any of it; he let the management deal with their distribution.
When work was finished, his pussy and dick were cleaned by security, which, embarrassingly, would sometimes make him cum, having been made so sensitive from the night's events, especially if the guard on duty was "hungry" and slipped him some bills in exchange for being allowed to clean up his pussy with their mouth, or, in one very lucrative case, just add to the mess by sliding their own dick inside. Then he was uncuffed and he would stand up on wobbly legs and put his clothes back on. After signing out at the desk, he would head on back home, counting the night's earnings in the afterglow.