I’m pinned against the wall, a man’s cock buried deep in my hole. On either side of me are two other bottoms, getting similarly fucked. The tops are trying to outdo each other, and behind them a queue is forming.
The men swap places, going from hole to hole. Occasionally they’ll step aside and let another guy from the queue step in and slide their cocks inside one of us three cumsluts pressed against the wall. We keep our place until every man has roughly taken what he wants.
There’s no talking, just the language of balls slapping against ass cheeks, guttural grunts from the tops as they shoot their cum inside, and pleasurable moans from those of us getting pounded.
We’re not the only ones. Hundreds of men are here, as far as the eye can see. The sound of fucking is everywhere. Some are in slings, some are mercilessly railing bottoms as they’re bent over on benches. Others are on their knees worshipping every passing cock or prowling for holes to stick their dick into.
And the best part? This is just a standard Saturday night at London’s most famous sex club.
He asks me to try and free my tied hands – I can’t. Even with my face pressed against the bench, I can now see a few guys are starting to gather, dicks out.
Hard On has been a staple of London’s gay scene for years, famed for its balls-out and unapologetic positivity about all things sex and kink. I’ve been coming here for years – it’s a home away from home, an environment where men are free to go primal.
Unlike many other sex venues, Hard On has the rare quality of generally being packed with men who are there to fuck, not just to preen. It’s well set up for fucking, too. Slings, fuck benches, beds, urinals, dark rooms, nowhere is off limits. I’ve even been fucked over the bar while waiting to order a drink.
A monthly sex show on stage, top fetish club DJs and a dance floor complete the offering for London’s horniest fuckers.
On this particular night it doesn’t take long before the place is packed to the rafters. Hundreds of men, naked or in a variety of fetish gear such as leather, rubber, harnesses, or just their jockstraps and boots, are dancing and fucking in every available spot.
After warming up with a couple of drinks, I head off in search of cock and find myself soon being grabbed by the neck and pushed against a wall, the start of the fuck fest I described at the start of this review.
I have no idea how long I spent pressed against that wall, one cock being replaced by another and another, other sluts either side of me similarly taking a pounding. When every man had finished their turn, the crowd dissipated and I carried on my wandering.
The club has two upstairs areas packed tight with beds, benches, and naked flesh. I make my way through both of them in turn, offering my mouth and hole to any man who reaches out to grab my ass as I pass.
Sometimes there’s so much action already going on – and I don’t like to interrupt someone else’s fun – that it takes a couple of loops to find a fuck. But that’s half the fun, and it’s always worth the wait.
After a few hours of cruising the club, being passed around from one dominant man to the next, I find myself catching my breath in a long, dark, walkway, watching the fun still unfolding in front of me.
On my right arm tonight I’m wearing a locking rubber bicep strap, secured in place with snap fasteners. One of my friends, passing by on the hunt for a hole to abuse, has a bright idea.
He grabs me by the neck and marches me over to the corner of one of the fuck areas, roughly pushing me over a large table-like structure. Bent at the waist, my body is pressed against the bench, my ass in the air. He gives it a hard smack.
Grabbing for my bicep strap, he snaps it off and pins my hands behind my back, wrapping the rubber strap around my wrists and fastening it shut on the tightest buckle. He asks me to try and free my hands – I can’t. Even with my face pressed against the bench, I can see a few guys are starting to gather, dicks out.
He kicks my legs apart with his own, spreading my ass cheeks and exposing my hole, and slides his cock inside me. If the penetration is gentle, it’s not for long, as he immediately starts pounding my ass hard. With his hands holding me down by the shoulders, and my arms tied behind my back, I can’t move. There’s nothing to do but take the hole abuse, letting out uncontrollable moans.
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It feels like forever that he pounds away at my hole, never slowing in pace or ferocity, until eventually he blows his load inside me. As he pulls out, I feel cum from his and everyone else’s cocks drip from my hole. It’s enough of an incentive for the next guy to step up and position the head of his cock against my well-fucked slave hole, pushing in with no resistance.
My friend, sensing quite rightly that I’ve retreated into a blissful faggot brain fog from which I won’t be returning any time soon, fucks off in search of more holes to play with. He leaves me bent over, tied up, at the mercy of the other men present.
In that position I’m fucked by at least another eight men, before my friend returns and unties me. But the respite doesn’t last long, as after a short break I’m picked up by two other lads and taken to a nearby sling. They throw me in, restrain my legs in the air through the sling’s loops, and take turns opening up my hole even more with their large cocks.
They turn out to be the last loads my hole receives that night, as before I know it the lights are flicking on – we’ve reached 5am already. There’s a slight horror about finding yourself still in a fuck club when the main lights are switched on, but I like to think it’s the sign of a good night.
I’d usually end a night at Hard On in the urinals, on my knees, men pissing all over my face for one final moment of “know your place, faggot”. But given the hour, tonight I make my way to get dressed, cum running from my hole and sweat dripping from my body.
I’m already looking forward to the next one.
- The cloakroom costs £2 and they only accept cash – bring coins with you.
- Hard On is a very fetish-friendly club, don’t be afraid to dress the part.
- Wearing ordinary clothes will probably get you turned away at the door, unless you plan on going naked once you’re inside. The majority of partygoers make an effort.
- Hard On enforces a strict fetish dress code of rubber, leather, sportswear, jockstraps, harnesses, neoprene… or nothing but your boots.
- Staff are incredibly friendly and welcoming, especially to newcomers. Hard On is owned and overseen by Suzie Krueger, one of the most experienced and respected fetish club promoters.
- The sex shows on stage draw a big crowd, so don’t count on being able to move around as freely during the time they’re taking place.
Hard On London. Takes place once a month from 10pm-5am. Union nightclub, Vauxhall, London. Website: hardonclub.co.uk. Tickets: £21 in advance. Tickets also available on the door.
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