Skinhead Banker

I am one of the 1%: a rich, handsome, entitled white male banker who appears to have everything, the perfect house, job and a different beautiful woman each night. On my way into work each day I pass a building site which seems to be run by gay skinheads. I say gay as each day they catcall me, calling me a pretty boy and suggesting how they would like to use me for their sexual gratification. I am appalled and always run away to work, so different to my usual arrogant and cocky nature. They start appearing in my dreams at night, initially with me standing up to them but over time these change to me submitting to them. Each night I wake startled and dripping in sweat, having cum dreaming about them using me. One Friday evening instead of walking past I enter the building site and present myself to their foreman and ask him and his gang to use me, he will only if I agree to become one of them. Without a second thought I give my confirmation. They push me onto my knees causing my £10,000 suit to get covered in mud, my Italian loafers to fill with filthy rainwater. They apologise and offer to clean me up; they all surround me and piss over my hair, face and suit. The leader approaches with scissors, I know what is to happen and he cuts chunks of my hair, followed by a wet shave - my once thick lustrous hair reduced to nothing. I have never been so hard in my life. The gang finish by ripping/cutting my fine clothes to shreds then each using my mouth and arse to get themselves off. I am now one of them. I am now complete.