GayBondageFiction

Stepson's Doom – Part 14 A sexy red-head drifter is brought to the farm and suffers a similar fate as Colton and his friends. Very sexy manips by Amalaric! Stepson’s […]

Fry is tortured with hot needles until he can give Grey another load.

Afghan Hell: Part 16 – Needles
by Donald Steve
Art by Amalaric
Series: Afghan Hell

The next day Fry was dragged out into the cold […]

The plot thickens after Matt has a tense lunch with Rafael….

My Roommate is on the Swim Team – Chapter 9
by Alan Baker Charlie
Download more of Alan Baker Charlie’s work on Amazon.

Rafael spotted Matt […]

Fry is stretched on the rack and makes a difficult bargain to avoid further pain….

Afghan Hell: Part 15 – The Rack
by DonaldSteve
Art by Amalaric
Series: Afghan Hell

That morning dressed by the chef in his normal t-shirt and shorts he was dragged from his cell. His tender feet hitting the rough cement floor making him groan. He had been allowed a long shower and was feeling defiant and angry and made things difficult for the guards by not getting off his bed when they came for him. He had to be carried to the room next to Grey’s office. As he was dropped unceremoniously on the floor he looked at the contraption that the carpenters and engineers had thought up. It was a long low bench about eleven feet in length, but its surface was slanting the head being about four feet high and the foot about eighteen inches. At the foot of the bench there were rings and straps for restraints, at the head of the bench was a huge cylindrical roller with handles on which thick ropes had been wound. He looked up at Grey. “That’s a rack. Grey you said you wouldn’t maim me. That, you bastard, is exactly what that will do” Grey stayed silent and looking towards the guards just nodded. As they stooped to lift Fry onto the rack he shouted with some desperation “I thought we had some kind of agreement.” Grey replied, “That was yesterday. You are going to be taught who is in charge here. So there will be no more tricks. No more delays. Consider this and everything that follows a punishment.” He gave a nod and Fry’s t-shirt was stripped off his struggling body. He was then placed on the slanting surface. His wrists and ankles were attached to the straps leaving the ropes slack. Fry lay there, his arms and legs flailing as he struggled not to slide down its slope. He loudly cursed Grey as the order was given to tighten the ropes. One of the guards turned the roller and slowly stretched Fry’s arms until they were taut. He lay with his chest rising and falling, a look of defiance aimed at Grey. Grey murmured to the guard. “A quarter turn.” The roller was turned and the ratchets clanked as Fry’s body moved slowly up the bed of the rack. His arms and legs straightening further as they tightened. Grey slowly circled the rack looking down on his prisoner whose face betrayed his desperation. Fry’s arms were pulled straight up and were about eighteen inches apart. . Blonde hairs grew on the reverse side of his arms from wrists to triceps varying in their length and texture and merging with the thick wad that filled his armpits. His golden yellow armpit hair spread along the crease created by the joining of his pectoral muscles to that of his shoulders and bulging biceps.. These in turn were covered in tiny hairs that created a sparkling swathe over tight smooth skin. Grey nodded and said “Another quarter turn” and Fry jerked his body sideways as the rollers pulled relentlessly at him. He fought the pull for as long as he could but eventually had to let go and as he did so his body went drum tight. He groaned as a deep pain attacked his shoulders and hips. His large hair covered chest rose and his stomach flattened and tightened. Grey noticed that the recesses of his armpits were starting to flatten out, the hair there sticking straight out from the tender skin. Fry moaned and clenched his teeth, his body shuddering as at long last the rollers stopped moving and their position was locked in place. “This is the way it should be,” remarked Grey. “You have tried my patience since you arrived. I was a fool to try to get to know you.” He stooped and felt Fry’s chest his fingers digging deeply into the thick pads of his pectorals. He let his hand slide down the drum tight stomach, the hair rasping through his fingers. He nodded at the guard. “Another quarter turn.” Fry’s back had lifted away from the rack with only his buttocks and shoulders skimming the surface. The pull on Fry was relentless and he shook his head from side to side, groaning and gasping, the sounds rising in volume and intensity. His stomach flattened even more showing a big gap between his skin and the waistband of his shorts. His chest swelled and the hairs lifted up away from the taut skin. His arms were solid and stretched to their limit. The thick muscles bulging and corded, as the sinews showed in high relief along their length. He emitted a high keening moan as the rollers were once again locked in place; leaving him straining. His teeth were clenched and sweat streamed from his forehead. Grey ran his hands along Fry’s body feeling his frame, looking for damage and judged he was still in good condition. He nodded to the guards and ordered them to leave the room. He approached the head of the rack looming over Fry’s face. “We can stop all this Fry. No damage. No crippling.” He smoothed Fry’s hair with his hand. “There will still be pain. For a while. But nothing as shocking as this.” He let his hand wander over Fry’s cheek, who attempted to shake him off by turning his head away.. Grey’s hand continued to move over the side of his neck, feeling the hard scrape of his thick beard. ”Come to me willingly this evening and I will give you rest for a whole week.”

Fry’s head jerked round and up. “I will never give in to you Grey. POOFTER! FUCKING POOFTER.” He shouted. Grey’s hand moved to caress the spot below his prisoners’ neck. “I seem to remember that last night you did just that. Gave in to me.” His hand squeezed through the gap between his neck and his up stretched arms. He clenched Fry’s shoulder saying, “I think I can make you do that again laddie.”

“No way” said Fry through clenched teeth.

“If you want to have some respite from this, then that is exactly what you will do.”

Fry closed his eyes and said. “Why this Grey? Why don’t you just get on with the fucking torture?”

“No. I am determined that what happened last night, will happen again. If it doesn’t happen, there will be whole days of torture. From morning to night.” His hand smoothed the thick course hairs on his forearms, plucking at the long white gold tendrils.” If you cum, I will shorten the session considerably. Ensure that the next day is torture free.” He laughed. “Maybe even give you two or three days off.”

Fry whispered, “You are sick Grey. You disgust me.”

“It is up to you. You will be punished for what you did last night. You can shorten the punishment by cumming. I will go further and promise you that if you come to me willingly at night, I will see that all the pain stops. Will do my best to get you sent home.”

“If I cum you will release me from this?”

“No. I said you would be punished every day for last night, but you can control the severity of the punishment. It would mean a couple of hours on something like the rack, instead of a whole day. It’s up to you.”

“You are sick Grey”

“No I am an opportunist. When I see a chance I take it.”

With desperation in his voice Fry replied.” How do I know you will keep your word?”

“I don’t want to see you crippled. I admire your body laddie. It is no use to me broken or marked. Haven’t you noticed? I don’t allow anything to happen to you that will give permanent marks. If you are marked I will lose interest in you.”

“Thank God for small mercies Grey” Fry said through clenched teeth. .”Maybe I should pray too for some disfigurements just to stop all this.”

Fry bit his lips and gasped, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. ”For fucks sake Grey, you know this thing will cripple me. How am I supposed to summon up an orgasm while you are hurting me this way?”

“Well laddie” Grey replied, “That is something you will have to work out.” He placed his hands on the handle of the rack and pressed down. The cogs clacked out one sharp note and Fry gasped at the short jerk on his stretched frame. “Apply your mind to it laddie. Let that big cock of yours save you.” More pressure on the roller produced another loud cracking noise. Fry groaned and cried out “Oh God.” His head shaking side to side he muttered, “How am I supposed to do what you want? It’s not possible. “God Grey. You are sick. Stop this charade. Please!”

Grey laughed, “Oh my poor wee man. It is up to you.” And as his hand went to the windlass again Fry said “No wait. I can’t do this. Not without my hands free.” Grey paused and stroked Fry’s cheek, “Sorry laddie. No can do. But I will help you.” And moving round to the side of the rack he pulled Fry’s shorts down over his hips and dragged them down to his knees. Fry gasped as Grey placed his hand over his genitals and gently manipulated them. He used his mouth and both his hands on him while Fry’s gasps turned to half sobs of despair. Grey reached up to the windlass again and Fry yelled “NO. Stop! Give me another chance.” And Fry closed his eyes and attempted to concentrate on his groin in the way he had through so many of these sessions. Striving to still the sobs and gasps, he clenched his pelvic and anal muscles and before Grey’s eyes his penis moved of its own accord. Sliding from between his legs it moved sideways in a half circle until it was pointing towards his stomach. Grey pushed on the windlass creating another resounding snap as the cogs fell into place. Fry cried and moved more desperately. With clenched teeth, and his eyes screwed shut he reached down far within himself, filling his mind with sensual and erotic thoughts. Grey, who pushed on the windlass, creating another resounding snap as the cogs fell into place, interrupted his concentration. Fry cried out and moved more desperately. With clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut; he worked his anal muscles and those of his abdomen. His penis started to thicken and lengthen until, at its full eight inches, it went rock hard and engorged with blood. The foreskin opened slightly and Grey saw once more the tip of the glands poking through. The slit at its tip was wide open creating a large round hole, and as Fry moved his groin, the head of the penis moved against the rough hair on his lower abdomen. Grey leaned forward across the top of the rack and caressed Fry’s nipples; feeling and watching them harden and grow. Fry’s gasps were pathetic to hear. He moved with a kind of desperation, his gasps turning to cries as his chest heaved to its full capacity. With his stomach sucked right in, Fry’s cries were now sobs of desperation as his penis now rose of its own accord, going straight into the air, and in doing so Fry lost its friction against his stomach hair. His face went dark red as he strained to keep his erection. Grey squeezed hard on his nipples causing Fry to yell, and at the same time his breathing became laboured. With huge breathes his chest expanded and deflated rapidly. As Grey watched his prisoner’s penis seesawed up and down. A large drop of cum welled up and overflowed over his glands. With this extra lubrication the entire head of his cock slowly became visible as his foreskin receded, and the sensation of the foreskin moving over his cock gave Fry the sensation that he was seeking. With a huge roar of triumph, which turned to a long drawn out cry of pain, his penis ejected several large globs of fluid that hit his chest and stomach, and splattered over Grey standing nearby. As Fry ‘s muscles relaxed he started to sob with relief. Grey took a damp cloth and wiped him clean.

“You see laddie. That was magnificent. It is surprising what the human body can do if it puts its mind to it.” He wiped him dry with a towel.. “I promised you a short session, and that’s what it will be. Unless you agree to come to me tonight.” He paused. “Do you understand laddie?”

Fry gasped. “I am not going to come to you tonight or any other night you bloody poofter. Do your bloody worst and let’s get it over with.”

Grey went to the door and summoned the guards back in. they looked at Fry and then to Grey, and the looks they exchanged said they realised what had been going on in their absence.”

Grey ordered them to resume their task and one of the guards moved to the windlass. Grey said “Three notches.” And the cogs clacked three times. Fry chest expanded and his stomach sunk in further again. He gasped and gave a huge groan. Grey ran his hand down his torso feeling the strain of his body and the hard stretched muscles. Turning to the torturer he gave another nod and three more cogs moved into place. Fry gave a high keening sound that whistled through his gritted teeth. Grey stroked his matted chest again and looking at the guard, then ordered “A quarter turn”. The cogs clacked on and on for several seconds. The roller was slowly turned and his almost naked body stretched along the bench. Fry found himself pleading. “No. No. For god’s sake” He felt something begin to give in his shoulders and his shouts became a roar that echoed through the room. The guard locked the rollers and Grey came close to him with a wet cloth and bathed Fry’s face and chest. Fry’s eyes were glazed with pain. He was half sobbing. With his short panting breathes he found it difficult to move his chest. Grey took a towel and gently dried his damp skin running it over the heaving chest and into his armpits. Fry was so taut Grey could have plucked him like the string on a harp and when he did just that, pulling on his arms and letting go Fry shrieked in pain. He now hung suspended in the air with his back and buttocks several inches above the surface of the rack. His head hung back just touching the surface of the bench with his throat curved and taut. Pale blonde hair swept up from his chest onto his exposed throat, merging with the darker yellow hair of his beard just above his Adams apple. Grey spent the next hour virtually playing with him. Letting the guard make small movements on the rollers so that Fry cried out in agony at every jerk on his limbs. As the morning turned to noon, Grey looked at his watch and suggested lunch. He loomed over fry, filling his vision. “We wont stretch you any more today Fry. I keep my promises as you can see. But we will leave you here for a while to suffer. Fry was left, still stretched out to his limit, suspended above the bed of he rack. The chef came to him and offered water. Other than that he was left to suffer the agony of his weight pulling down on his strained muscles. Day turned to night, and after hanging almost horizontally for more than ten hours, the guards released his almost unconscious body from the rack. As he was carried back to his cell he groaned and cried out against the pains that attacked his whole body.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

A sadistic inventor kidnaps two young men to test his latest invention: The Wheels of Fate! Art by Blacksmith.

The Wheels of Fate
by D.R. von Todtenhausen
Art by Blacksmith. Visit his Tumblr Page or Download his Book.

Having just acquired an new set of equipment specifically designed by me, I was anxious to try it out on some selected victims. There are two boys who recently turned 18 and have been hanging around together for some time. They are as different as any two could be, but nonetheless they are still good friends. The one boy is named David and he is very cute and makes excellent “eye-candy.” He is a nice guy and very friendly, but just exquisite to look at and lust after. His friend Joshua, however is very nice looking but has an obnoxious and arrogant attitude with a rather unpleasant habit of acting with an “I’m too cool for you” type attitude and tends to look down on others he doesn’t consider up to his standards of “coolness.”

Since the boys are always hanging around together and are often near my country hide-away in the middle of a large woods, I felt the urge to have them as my potential victims. Since I didn’t want them to know what was happening to them or where they were, I decided to have them kidnapped with chloroform and brought to my playroom. I made sure they were taken by surprise in the woods some distance from my retreat. They were accosted in the woods near a stream where they hung out and immediately chloroformed with rags over their faces until they were out cold. Then they were brought to my little dungeon in the basement where the two new pieces of equipment were located. I called the devices “The Wheels of Fate” because of their many uses. I had designed them myself and used various devices of “persuasion” in them.

They were basically two, almost identical pieces of equipment, both large wheels like wheels of fortune. They were made so they could stand vertically or lay flat horizontally. They would spin around either with continuous power or they could also be powered by hand, when they would stop when the friction would stop them on their own. One wheel had four iron rings positioned in specific places on the wheel, while the other had only three rings. There was a purpose to the design of each.

When David and Joshua were brought in, I decided I would work on one at a time and maybe both together at some point. Both boys were stripped naked and placed on the wheels in the horizontal position. David was placed on the simpler of the two wheels, the one with the four rings. Those rings were placed in positions where the victim could be spread-eagled and the wrists and ankles attached to the rings. I had David positioned on the wheel with his arms and legs spread, but in such a position where David’s ankles and bare feet extended out over the edge of the wheel. That way the boy could be spun around on the wheel either horizontally, where one had a good view of the soles of his feet, or else vertically where one could see the boy’s body in all positions, with head up and feet down or feet up and head down. David’s wheel didn’t have as many persuasive devices connected with it, but he was mainly there for show! Just to behold that naked beauty was enough to send one into orgasm. The boy was so pretty and his feet were perfection! One could just sit at the edge of the wheel and enjoy the sheer beauty of those bare feet soles.

The way this wheel worked was, it could be spun around either vertically or horizontally, depending on what you wanted to do. The horizontal method was more interesting because there were more “play-toys” available for use. I had a remote control at my fingertips and when I pressed a button, another ring came in surrounding the wheel. This ring had a wedge-shaped section left open, where I could place my chair and touch David’s feet easily. The rest of the surrounding circle was filled with feathers sticking out so that the tips of the feathers would just touch the soles of the victim’s feet as the wheel was spun. These feathers could also be changed to soft rubber points, which would likewise touch the soles of the victim as he spun around. Since I wanted to sit back and enjoy the fun, I didn’t try to spin the wheel by hand, but rather decided to use the continuous electric spin. Before I started, however, I sat and enjoyed the beauty of David’s perfect bare feet. I played with his toes and tickled his feet all over, especially between his toes, where he was exceedingly ticklish. The poor boy laughed and shrieked loudly as I was enjoying his feet. I then started the wheel spinning and as it spun, the tips of the feathers would lightly tickle David’s feet. The only spot where the tickling would stop was for the second when his feet passed the open area where I was sitting. Poor David went crazy with the tickling since he was particularly ticklish on his feet. At another spot next to where I was seated, a section of the feathered wheel could be pulled back and another brought in with leather straps hanging down from all around the wheel. When the power was turned on for this wheel, it would spin and the leather straps would flail outward and whip the soles of the victim’s feet continuously while the wheel was stopped at that point. What a delight to hear the slap of those straps as they smacked the tender bare soles of David’s feet. There was another similar wheel that lowered from above with cat-o-nine-tails sticking out from the wheel. As this wheel spun, it would come down and whip the chest of the victim with the spinning cat. It was such a delight to sit in my chair and position David so that his feet were right in front of me while the wheel whipped him on the chest from above. I loved viewing, touching and playing with David’s toes and feet while he was being whipped. It was fun to see and feel how his feet reacted when the whip hit. Sometimes he would curl his toes and sometimes he would flex them. Whichever way he moved, it was exquisite to watch!

I put David through the various delights of the wheel, sometimes spinning the wheel myself by grabbing one of David’s bare feet and spinning the wheel, and others turning on the electric spin and stopping the wheel wherever I wanted, usually where I could best enjoy the beauties of David’s feet. Naturally, I had David blindfolded so he didn’t know where he was or who was working on him.

Next I had Joshua brought in. My plans for him were to use the other of the two wheels I had. Since he was such a smart-ass and obnoxious, I had planned for him to get the worst of the two wheels. This one was much, much better for dealing with guys like Joshua. This wheel could really be called the “Wheel of Fate” because there were so many additional torments to use, and so many ways to make the use of those torments a whim of fate. Naturally, this wheel had all the same devices as the simpler of the wheels that David was on, but this one had even more ways to make the victim suffer. Josh was blindfolded, of course, and I decided I would first put him through the same toys I had used on David. Josh’s feet were very nice, too, so it was a delight to see his toes and soles. Naturally, I started in my chair with fondling and tickling his bare toes and feet. Josh, too, was extremely ticklish and started to shriek and laugh immediately when I touched his feet. After going through all the same tortures I had put David through, Josh was going to get even more torture to satisfy my craving for paying him back for his attitude. David was still present on the other wheel at the time, but since he was blindfolded and alone for his own torture, he didn’t know that Josh was now in the room until he heard Josh’s shrieks and laughter. He had been gagged so he couldn’t inform Josh of his presence and Josh, being blindfolded, couldn’t see David there. I stopped and touched and fondled David’s bare feet before moving back to Josh.

After Josh had suffered the same tortures David had, he was now going to find out the additional torments of fate that this wheel offered. This wheel, just like the other one, had all the same equipment, but it also had some additional features, which made this wheel even more special, at least for me as the observer. Adding to the “fate” aspect of this wheel, it could be spun by hand or by electricity, but on this wheel there were contacts underneath the wheel which made contact with spots of the understructure of the wheel. As the wheel spun, it would stop wherever gravity stopped it when spun by hand, or it could be kept spinning by using the electrical spinning that was on the other wheel. This was the wheel that had only three rings for binding the victim. Two of the rings were spaced for the arms of the victim to be spread wide, pulled above his head in a “Y” shape. The victim’s wrists were attached to these rings and then his two ankles were tied together to the single ring at the bottom. Thus, when the victim was placed on the wheel and viewed from above, his body would be “Y” shaped somewhat like an arrow, with his feet being the point of the arrow. Josh was tied on the wheel, again with his ankles and feet sticking out over the edge of the wheel, freeing his feet for full enjoyment. This wheel, however, was made kind of like a clock with spots where the wheel would stop with the victim’s feet being like the hand of a clock and pointing to the numbers on the clock. Underneath the wheel, wherever there would have been one of the numbers on the clock, there was a contact on the bottom of the wheel and one on the base of the wheel, where, when the wheel stopped over one of these contacts, a connection would be made to complete an electrical circuit. This way the wheel could be spun and wherever it stopped naturally, something could be “fated” to happen based on where the wheel stopped. Some places were deliberately left without any contact, but in other places around the wheel, there were spots where a particular type of torture could be applied. Therefore the element of “fate” came in as to where the wheel stopped. The victim could have nothing happen or it could stop on one of the spots where his feet would point to a particular torment for his feet or body. Of course this wheel was specially built so that I could control where the wheel stopped rather than relying on fate every time. If the wheel stopped at a place where there was no contact, fate would allow the victim to be free of any torture. Then there were other places, like where I would sit, where I could play with the victim’s feet if the wheel stopped with his toes pointing toward me. Of course, I could always plan on stopping the wheel at that point if I wanted to. At another spot on the face of the imaginary clock, there was an electric heater placed close to where the victim’s soles would end up if the wheel stopped there. Then the victim would get a good hot-foot for a while. I loved hearing Josh scream as his bare soles felt the heat
from the electric heater. I wouldn’t let his feet be burned because I didn’t want to ruin his feet because they did look beautiful.

Another spot on the clock where the wheel could stop was a particular favorite of mine. When Josh was placed on the wheel, my helpers attached electric wires with clips on his dick and balls. When the wheel spun with the victim’s feet and toes pointing to that spot, a contact was made under the wheel which sent surges of electricity through the wires, shocking the victim’s dick and balls. If the wheel continued to spin, a short jolt of electricity went through his dick and balls, but if the wheel stopped at that point, a continuous surge of current spread through his dick and balls making the torment exquisite and lovely to watch. The victim would arch his back as the current passed through him and he would scream and scream in agony until the current stopped. You could watch how his bare feet reacted, whether he would curl his toes or splay them upward as the electricity surged through him. It was particularly delightful to watch the feet and the dick, because both would move in some way, the dick flopping as the victim’s back arched and he screamed. You can be sure there was a way to make the wheel stop where I wanted it to stop, or I could let fate take over to stop the wheel. Funny how the wheel seemed to stop more often with Josh’s feet pointing to the spot where the electric surged through his dick and balls causing him to scream and scream and watch his naked body arch and his heels dig into the platform of the wheel. Every time it would get close to that spot, I would tell Josh, “Oh look Josh, it looks like we are going to be stopping with your toes pointing to the shock.” Josh screamed: “Oh no! Not again! No, No!” Of course he didn’t know that I was deliberately stopping the wheel at that point. As much as I liked his feet, I still loved watching him writhe in agony and scream in pain with the electricity.

I looked over at David and saw him squirm as he heard Josh screaming and screaming. Finally Josh fainted as the electricity got to be too much to bear. I had both boys taken to a holding cell so that I could enjoy them later and maybe even switch which wheel the victim was on.

After a night with Rafael, Rob returns home to ask his roommate to return the key to his chastity device.

My Roommate is on the Swim Team – Chapter 8
by Alan Baker Charlie
Download more of Alan Baker Charlie’s work on Amazon.

“Want a cookie?” asked Rafael.

“What time is it?” asked Rob, rubbing his eyes and realizing he had been dozing with his naked companion.

“It’s 11 p.m.” said Rafael, as he got out of bed and picked up a bag of cookies from his desk.

“Yikes!”, said Rob, suddenly wishing he could reach his phone. “I’d better text Matt and tell him not to worry about me. That is, if you want me to stay here longer.”

“Hell, yes, I want you to stay longer,” said Rafael. “You think he’ll worry about you if you come back to the room late at night or in the morning?”

“Yes, he’d probably wonder what happened to me,” said Rob.

“Do you worry about him when he’s not back at the usual time?”

“No,” said Rob. “He has a girlfriend, so if he’s not back I have a pretty good idea of where he is and what he’s doing.”

Rafael picked up Rob’s cell phone and started tapping on it.

“What are you doing?” asked Rob, realizing that Rafael could do whatever he wanted at that moment because Rob was still tied to Rafael’s bed.

“Just a sec,” said Rafael as he continued tapping. “There. I just sent him a message.”

“What does it say?” asked Rob.

“It says, ‘Hi Matt. This is Rob’s new boyfriend. I have him tied to my bed. If you want him back you’ll have to pay a $10,000 ransom.’ “

“Very funny,” said Rob. “I hope he doesn’t call the police.”

“I told him I was your new boyfriend,” said Rafael. “I think he’ll understand I’m joking.”

Just then Rob’s phone rang. Rafael picked it up and looked at the screen. “It’s Matt. Just tell him you’re okay but don’t tell him who I am.” He clicked the button to answer the call and held the phone up to Rob’s face.

“I’m okay,” said Rob. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Are you really tied up?” asked Matt.

“Yes,” said Rob.

“Naked?”

“Yes.”

“Wow! How did this happen? How did you meet this guy?”

“I’ll have to talk with you later,” said Rob.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to interrupt your special moment,” said Matt.

“That’s very considerate of you,” said Rob.

“You’re sure he’s not a serial killer, right? I mean, if you’re in danger, say something about, uh, homework, okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Rob. “I’ll see you soon.”

“If this guy hurts you, I’m going to be really mad,” said Matt.

“Don’t worry,” said Rob. “Thank you for your concern.”

Rafael took the phone from Rob and hung up the call.

“He really cares about you, doesn’t he?” said Rafael.

“Yes, I guess he does,” agreed Rob.

Rafael reached down, grabbed Rob’s chastity device and shook it gently, causing his dick to wiggle back and forth. “Ask him for the key,” he said.

“Wow,” said Rob. “I hope he gives it to me.”

“He’d better,” said Rafael. “Tell him I’m going to beat him up if he doesn’t.”

“I hope I don’t have to say that,” said Rob. “You two have a friendly relationship now, and I wouldn’t want it to change.”

“It would change if he knew I was blackmailing you,” said Rafael.

“I’m not going to tell him that,” said Rob. “I’d rather that he didn’t know that. It would upset him.”

“I’m glad you’re not going to share that,” said Rafael. “I don’t want him to be mad at me. Also, he might start talking more softly in your room, and then I wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop anyway,” said Rob.

“I can’t help it when the conversation involves you,” said Rafael.

“That’s a little fucked up,” said Rob.

“What did you say?” asked Rafael, looking annoyed.

“I said, ‘I’m glad you find us interesting,’” said Rob.

“That’s better,” said Rafael.

* * * * *

The next morning Rob tiptoed into his dorm room, but still managed to wake up his roommate.

“The prodigal returns,” said Matt, stretching in his bed.

“Did you miss me?” asked Rob, noticing a bulge in the sheets in the vicinity of Matt’s crotch.

“Actually, I think I did,” admitted Matt, sitting up in his bed. “Let me see your wrists.” Rob held up his wrists for inspection. “Just as I thought,” said Matt. “Rope marks.”

Rob rubbed his wrists. “I may have to wear a long sleeve shirt to class,” he said.

“Either that or answer some embarrassing questions about kinky sex from your fellow students,” said Matt. “Are you okay otherwise?”

“I’m stunned,” said Rob, sitting down on his own bed. “I feel like I survived an avalanche or something. I feel like I’ve had a life-changing experience.”

“What do you mean?” asked Matt.

“I was happy with my life before,” said Rob. “I wasn’t looking for a gay boyfriend. I was busy with school and fixated on my relationship with you. Now, suddenly I’m deep in a relationship with someone else.”

“So, what are you telling me?” asked Matt. “You don’t care about me anymore?”

“No, not at all,” said Rob. “I still care about you a lot. I just need to make room in my heart for another guy. At the moment, I feel confused, like my head is spinning or something.”

“Are you sure this is going to be a long-running relationship? You just met this guy, right?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” said Rob. “But he’s someone I’ve known for awhile. In fact, he’s an acquaintance of yours as well.”

“Who is it? I can’t think of anyone I know who would tie you up and have sex with you,” said Matt. “I mean, I’m sure other gay guys would want to have sex with you. I just didn’t realize I had another acquaintance who was gay. Now, did he only tie you up and tease you or did you two also spurt semen out of your dicks? Actually, now that I think about it, your dick is locked, so it could only have been him, right?”

“That’s a really personal question, don’t you think?” asked Rob.

“Yes, but you and I tell each other everything,” said Matt.

“I’m not sure I tell you every little detail about my life,” said Rob. “But anyway, yes, our relationship was consummated last night.”

“I can’t believe you got so far with him so fast,” said Matt. “You’ve been trying to lead me down the gay-boy path for weeks now, and you haven’t even gotten to first base with me.”

“I haven’t been trying to lead you anywhere,” said Rob.

“You bought a sex toy and wanted me to fuck you with it,” said Matt.

“Well, maybe I did,” admitted Rob. “But I wasn’t trying to change you from straight to gay. I thought you were so secure in your masculinity you could even do that and not worry about it.”

“Well, I did worry about it, if you want to know the truth,” said Matt. “I wanted to try it, and I had to convince myself not to.”

“Yikes!” said Rob. “I had no idea.”

“Anyway, it doesn’t mean I’m gay,” said Matt. “It just means that the idea of ramming a plastic dick into your ass and watching you moan had a certain level of appeal. Anyway, now you have a boyfriend, so I’m off the hook. I mean, he’s the kind of guy who’s going to take an interest in fucking you, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Rob. “Not that I should have to answer such a personal question.”

“Well, at least I have the satisfaction of knowing you’re going to get fucked the way you want to get fucked,” said Matt. “I’m happy for you, Robbie.”

“Thank you,” said Rob.

“So, when are you going to see him again?” asked Matt.

“I don’t know,” said Rob. “I’m sure I’ll see him soon, probably today.”

“You still haven’t told me who he is,” said Matt.

“I know,” said Rob. “He asked me not to tell you yet.”

“He’s afraid I’ll tell people he’s gay?” asked Matt. “If he knows me at all, he should trust me with that information.”

“I think he trusts you,” said Rob.

“So, what’s the big secret? It just seems a little odd that you’re not telling me. Is he a professor?”

“No,” said Rob. “But I don’t want to play twenty questions. If you keep asking me questions and I keep answering them, then sooner or later you’ll guess who it is.”

“This is starting to bother me,” said Rob. “I care about you, and I want you to be happy. If I don’t know who you’re dating, then I don’t know if he’s the right guy for you.”

“Don’t I get to decide who’s the right guy for me?” asked Rob.

“Yes,” said Matt. “After I give my blessing.”

“What? Are you my Dad now?” asked Matt.

“I’m the man who has the key to your dick,” said Matt.

“Now that you’ve brought up the subject of the key …”

“Don’t tell me you want it back!” said Matt. “I own your dick. If your new boyfriend wants the key, he’s going to have to pay a $10,000 ransom.”

“Very funny,” said Rob.

“You and I have a deal,” said Matt. “You said I could use your car, and you’ve been doing a great job with all of the chores I gave you. I don’t want all of that happiness to come to a screeching halt. Plus, I like seeing you with a shaved chest.”

“Nothing’s changing about our deal,” said Rob. “You can still use the car, and I’ll still do the chores just as if you still had the key.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Matt. “I’m glad you still want to hold up your end of the bargain. However, I’m not handing the key over to someone who’s trying to conceal his identity. If he wants the key, he’s going to have to buy me a beer at the very least. I want to get to know this mystery man a little better and make sure I approve of him dating my little buddy.”

“Little?”

“You know what I mean,” said Matt.

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A couple of burglars tie up and debase their sexy victim with some help from their friends in this classic comic strip by Etienne.

Forced Entry – Page 1
by Etienne

<div […]

The poor victim is gang-banged by a group of hoodlums but soon the tables are turned….

Forced Entry – Page 2
by Etienne

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Vote for your favorite stories from March & April. You may vote for up to FOUR different stories. After placing your vote, enjoy this month’s bonus story. Just follow the link below the results after you vote to […]

Hercules endures his final tortures.

The Erotic Adventures of Hercules & the King of the Manazons – Page 7
by Cavelo
Series: Hercules & the King of the Manazons

Confronted again by the king, Hercules […]

A newly trained pizza delivery boy falls victim to a secret society whose humiliating rituals involve milking their captive of load after load of his cum.

Pizza Boy
by Amalaric

Pizza Boy training camp […]

The roommates test out the newly arrived chastity device.

My Roommate is on the Swim Team – Chapter 6
by Alan Baker Charlie
Download more of Alan Baker Charlie’s work on Amazon.

When Matt opened the door […]

The roommate’s hot Latino next door neighbor reveals his knowledge of their antics and demands favors from Rob to keep it a secret.

My Roommate is on the Swim Team – Chapter 7
by Alan Baker Charlie
Download more of Alan Baker Charlie’s work on Amazon.

Dressed in his bathrobe, Rob began shaving in his dorm bathroom. Since the time was 9:30 a.m., most of the other guys were in class or elsewhere, so he had the entire row of sinks to himself. From time to time he would rub some soap on his chest and shave the stubble there. A week had passed since Matt had ordered him to start shaving his chest, and he had gotten used to the routine. His dick tingled when his razor stroked his chest, and he felt pleased about submitting to his handsome roommate’s demands.

The door swung open, and Rob’s next door neighbor, Rafael, walked in. Rafael greeted him in a friendly manner and headed for a urinal. Rob glanced at him in the mirror as his back was turned and admired his powerful build and tight ass. The fact that Rafael was Latino was a plus, because Rob had felt a strong attraction to Latinos ever since freshman year of high school, when a young Latino guy in his gym class caught his eye. Rob always got a charge out of seeing Rafael, and whenever Rafael chatted with him his Spanish accent made Rob feel like he was about to cum in his pants.

Rafael turned away from the urinal and headed over to the sink to wash his hands.

“How’s it going, Robbie?” he asked.

“Going great, Rafael,” said Rob. “How are you?”

“Great,” said Rafael.

“People usually call me Rob,” said Rob.

“That’s not what Matt calls you,” said Rafael. Rob turned a shade of red, because he realized that the only way Rafael would know this was by hearing their conversations through the wall. Rafael grasped the lapel of Rob’s bathrobe and pulled it open. “Nice!” said Rafael. “I’m impressed.”

“Impressed with my chest?” asked Rob.

“Impressed that you’re following Matt’s instructions,” said Rafael.

“What instructions?” asked Rob in dismay.

“Shaving your chest,” said Rafael.

Rob turned a darker shade of red. “Did he tell you?”

“I heard him through the wall,” said Rafael. “He gave you a bunch of orders. I heard every one.”

“Rafael, please tell me you’ve kept this confidential,” said Rob with a panicked expression on his face. “I don’t want everyone knowing. I don’t want people teasing me and making fun of me. I particularly don’t want anyone making fun of Matt.”

“I haven’t told a single person — yet,” said Rafael.

“Yet? You’re not thinking about telling anyone, are you?”

“Come to my room after you’re done here, and we can discuss this further,” said Rafael, grasping both lapels of Rob’s bathrobe and pulling them closer together.

“Okay,” said Rob, feeling mystified.

Five minutes later Rob knocked at Rafael’s door.

“Come in,” said Rafael.

Rob opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him and glancing around at the room, which was smaller than his because it was a single occupancy room. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Strip off your clothes,” said Rafael.

“What? I don’t understand,” said Rob.

Rafael opened his dresser drawer and pulled out some rope. “Do you understand now?”

“Aren’t we moving a little bit fast here?” asked Rob. “I realize some guys hop into bed immediately after meeting each other, but I’m not that type of guy, even if the other guy is hot as hell.”

“We’re skipping the appetizer and going straight to the main course,” said Rafael. “I have some leverage here, and I intend to use it to my best advantage.”

“You’re blackmailing me?” asked Rob.

“Exactly right,” said Rafael. “Not only am I blackmailing you, but I’m very excited about it. Here, let me show you what I mean.” Rafael pulled off his t-shirt and threw it on the bed, revealing a chest full of hair and six-pack abs. He pulled off his gym shorts and underpants and tossed them on the bed as well. Instantly his dick sprang to attention.

“Fuck!” said Rob as his dick began to ache with desire at the sight of his naked neighbor. “But what do you want? What are you asking for?”

“It’s simple,” said Rafael. “I want what I want when I want it. If I feel like tying you up, then you need to come over and let me tie you up. If I need a blow job, then you need to help me out. And if I feel like fucking you, then your ass is going to be sore, because I’m not planning to be gentle.”

“Fuck!” said Rob, as he began pulling his clothes off and throwing them on the floor. He paused for a moment. “Do other people on campus know you’re gay?”

“Not many,” said Rafael. “You’re the first person who knows here in the dorm.”

“Have you had a lot of sexual experience, if you don’t mind my asking? I mean, should I worry about whether I’m about to get an STD?”

“No,” said Rafael. “I haven’t had sex in a while, and I’ve never had an STD. Have you?”

“No,” said Rob as he pulled off his pants. “I’m practically a virgin, except for …”

“Except for Matt?”

“We don’t really have sex,” said Rob. “Anyway, Matt’s straight. At least he thinks he’s straight.”

“You’re not so sure, are you?” asked Rafael.

“He has a girlfriend, and everyone thinks he’s straight. Personally I think he might be bisexual, but time will tell,” said Rob. “Anyway, I’m not planning to push him. If he wants to explore sex with guys, then fine, but if not, that’s okay also.”

“I don’t want you having sex with Matt or anyone else,” said Rafael.

“What? You and I are going steady now?” asked Rob. “We haven’t even had our first date.”

“Shut up and lie down on the bed,” said Rafael. Rob laid down on the bed, and Rafael secured him to the four corners in spread-eagle fashion. “I like your chastity device,” said Rafael, grabbing it with his hand and rubbing the metal. He pulled it gently away from Rob’s body and grasped the exposed portion of Rob’s penis with his fingers, carefully pulling it out of the caged area, leaving his balls still trapped inside of the cage because there was no way to extract them without the key to the device.

Rafael kneeled on the bed and licked Rob’s balls where they protruded from the chastity device. He licked Rob’s dick and then took it in his mouth and began to suck on it. Rob pulled on the ropes that held him bound and felt a bit of anguish about his chastity being robbed, despite the fact that Rafael’s mouth on his dick felt amazing and the fact that sex with a handsome gay Latino student was his dream come true. Rafael bobbed up and down on Rob’s penis and then began more slow licks.

“Fuck!”, said Rob. “That feels awesome, even if you are blackmailing me.”

“I’m glad you like it,” said Rafael. “Now it’s my turn.” He re-positioned himself on the bed and laid his dick on Rob’s mouth. Rob opened up and Rafael began deep rhythmic strokes that made Rob’s eyes water as he resisted the gag reflex. Rob concentrated on relaxing his throat and trying to keep his teeth out of the way. He closed his eyes. For a moment he imagined that he was tied to his own bed and Matt’s dick was in his mouth. He opened his eyes again and saw Rafael gazing down at him with a satisfied expression.

Rafael pulled his dick out, pushed Rob’s mouth closed and laid his dick on Rob’s lips. “Now lick it like I licked yours,” he said.

Rob began slow licks of his neighbor’s engorged penis. “You’re so hard,” he commented.

“Fuck, yeah,” said Rafael. “You’re doing a good job. Nice and slow. Don’t pick up the pace. We have all the time in the world.”

“I have some homework to do,” said Rob. “But I’d rather do this instead.”

“Not that you have any choice in the matter,” said Rafael.

“Good point,” said Rob, as his dick stiffened at the thought of being at Rafael’s mercy.

Rafael got up, went over to his stereo and put on some Latin salsa music.

“I love the trumpets,” said Rob, nodding to the beat of the music as Rafael returned to bed. Rafael took Rob’s dick in his mouth and bobbed up and down several times, enjoying the sensation of Rob’s hard rod sliding in and out of his throat. He pulled out and did more slow licks, teasing the head of Rob’s cock with his tongue.

“Fuck!” said Rob. “That feels so great.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” said Rafael. He untied Rob’s left wrist and laid down beside him near the wall, positioning Rob’s hand on his dick and indicating he should start rubbing. Rafael rolled slightly toward Rob so he could use his free hand to rub Rob’s chest. “That’s good,” said Rafael. “Don’t rub too fast. Keep it slow.”

“Yes, sir,” said Rob as he slowed the pace down a bit.

Rafael gently squeezed Rob’s tits. His hand moved down to Rob’s abdomen, where he prodded the muscles. His hand moved to Rob’s dick, and he softly stroked the length of it as it bobbed in the air.

“Geez,” said Rob. “All this time I’ve been hoping Matt would do something like this, and I had absolutely no idea that I had a gay neighbor next door.”

“I’ve been planning this ever since I started hearing you guys talking,” said Rafael. “I was just waiting until I had enough information.”

“If you accuse us of things, we could just deny it,” said Rob.

“You would deny shaving your chest? You would deny doing his laundry? You would deny wearing a chastity device? You would deny letting him drive your car?”

“We could invent excuses to explain it all,” said Rob as he continued to stroke Rafael’s dick. “Anyway, I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to focus on bringing pleasure to your dick.”

“That’s a good boy,” said Rafael. “I’ll do the same.”

They continued stroking each other. Rob matched his companion’s pace. His dick ached for relief, but he wasn’t being stimulated fast enough to reach his climax.

“You know what I want to do?” asked Rafael.

“What?” asked Rob.

“I want to turn down the music, turn off the lights, and just take a little nap with you.”

“Now?” asked Rob. “My dick feels so close to the edge.”

“Yes, now,” said Rafael as he got out of bed. “Your dick will have to wait. I want to start all over again when we wake up.”

“Fuck!” said Rob, lifting his head to view his erect dick. “I guess my vote doesn’t count for much.”

“You’ve got that right,” said Rafael, as he turned down the volume on his stereo, shut off the lights and crawled back into bed.

“Your dick is as hard as mine,” said Rob.

“I’m going to enjoy the feeling as I drift off to sleep,” said Rafael, adjusting the pillow a bit before settling down next to Rob. He rubbed Rob’s chest briefly. “Your circulation is good, chico?”

“Si,” answered Rob.

“Bueno,” said Rafael. Rafael snuggled his face close to Rob’s shoulder. Rob could feels Rafael’s breath on his shoulder as Rafael’s warm hand rested on his chest.

This is so awesome, thought Rob. Even though my dick is starting to go limp. I wish Matt could see me now. I wonder if he would be jealous. Or would he be happy for me? Not happy that I’m being blackmailed, of course. Just happy that my dream has come true and I’m having sex with a hot guy. Happy that I’m happy. This is going to change everything.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER
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Super cocky Bollywood hero takes a lashing!
Visit our Male Bondage in Movies  page for more.

Nipple torture, impalement and a pit of serpents await poor Hercules next….

The Erotic Adventures of Hercules & the King of the Manazons – Page 6
by Cavelo
Series: Hercules & the King of the […]

Hascombe introduces his captive straight stud to the pain art of Shibari bondage.

24 Hours – Chapter 13: Riding the Orient Express
by Amalaric
Series: 24 Hours

‘We’re going to play a little game, boy. […]

Dave’s humiliation continues as Bobby makes his way over to join the party.

24 Hours – Chapter 14: The Terrible Threesome
by Amalaric
Series: 24 Hours

Though he would never admit the fact, Bobby was growing desperate. Five minutes had come and gone and his depthless eyes had never left the phone. The young computer wizard was convinced, now, that Hascombe was telling the truth. He was surprised, scratching in a flabby armpit, by the soaking wet fabric of his tight shirt. Glancing down at his crotch, Bobby squinted thoughtfully at a spreading patch of damp material; both, ample evidence of nervous lust spiraling out of control. I should just drive over there, he thought, but quickly reconsidered. Hascombe was a fluttery fool, but he was also rich, arrogant, prissy and temperamental. If he really did have a muscle-bound young buck in his clutches, Bobby didn’t want to do anything to spook an invitation to the party. It had been quite a while since he had enjoyed the delights of a captive stud in his prime, at least in any substantial way. Oh sure, there were the magazines and internet sites and, occasionally, an invitation to the penitentiary where he kept in touch with his old friend Rendquist. Bobby was something of a celebrated alumnus and, though the infrequent trips across state lines were expensive, Rendquist made sure that his young protégé (or so he thought) was kept amused. The seldom-used judicial punishment room was kept well supplied and the two sadists were enjoyably entertained by special guest inmates selected by the captain. Still, it wasn’t the same as having a naked young buck strung up in the comfort of one’s home and, given the remote possibility of public scrutiny, the judicial punishment room was only kept stocked with rudimentary toys. Bobby frowned, black eyebrows crossing like blunt daggers over his flat nose, and willed the phone to ring.

Hascombe finished his whisky and, shrugging, thought, What the hell!! He poured another. ‘Brent!!’ The shrill sound of Roberta’s voice trailing from the living room sofa jolted him out of his reverie. ‘Yes dear?’ The banker tried to hide a note of irritation. ‘Where have you hidden our handsome slave, darling?’ ‘He’s in the tea room, my sweet.’ ‘It’s my turn to play with him,’ her tone was sullen, daring any contradiction. ‘Oh, we’ll just see about that, dear,’ Hascombe whispered and, hoisting himself from his chair, ambled into the hallway. His wife leaned against a wall, gripping a fresh bottle of imported Chablis. Oh, Hascombe thought, it’s definitely time to contact Bobby… and, shoving the cell phone in his pocket, motioned to Roberta to follow him to the tea room.

Dave stood in the center of the room, just as Hascombe had left him nearly two hours before, bathed in sweat, panting deep, rasping breaths as he fought to control the agony that raged, unchecked, throughout his body. It was a futile battle. Waves of searing pain coursed through twisted joints and cramped muscles as he spun slowly on the lead rope attached to the hook dangling from the ceiling, precariously balanced on the sweat-slick toes of his arched left foot. The subtlety of the very unsubtle torture was found in the psychological aspect; Shibari was a slow, thoughtful game. In the early stages Dave had tried to quench the questing fingers of fire; experimenting with shifting his position in minute ways in order to relieve the pressure. That, of course, only augmented the pain caused by different pressures. He quickly realized this, but simply couldn’t help himself and the cumulative effect of the delicate dance performed within the eight inch radius allowed by the lead rope was to insure that every joint and muscle of Dave’s tall, strapping body shrieked its agony in a unified chorus. He tried to distract himself by thinking of his mom and dad, or Cathy. His mind wandered to easy days working up a sweat at the construction site, his friends…Masco the pug, dry humping a long shin, intruded and was quickly banished. The litany of names and mental slide show of beloved faces distracted him for a while, but the pain was always there and growing; reminding him of his predicament and forcing other memories and faces to the surface. Hascombe and his wife, the terror of the looming brand, being forced to strip off his clothes and submit to very specialized, interested stares and, ultimately, an invasive examination…whipped like a dog and mopping up his own piss; all competed for the young captive’s unwilling attention. In the meantime, bright spots of searing flame spread, unchecked and impatient; imploring, insisting, ultimately demanding a special kind of attention, not rooted in the past but in an awful, timeless present of slippery ticking minutes robbed of all purpose or meaning.

Finally, he began to cry. Oh, Hascombe’s skill had already provoked abundant tears; mainly reflexive ones in response to stinging agony. These were different. The former marine who (almost) never wept, who prided himself on his deep reserves of strength and sense of responsibility and had tenderly wiped many a feminine tear from pretty faces with swelling, proprietary heart- all the while remaining dry-eyed…found himself perched on an unfamiliar precipice. Dave tried at first, as he had in so many other ways, to resist. As in all the other ways, he failed.

Hascombe stepped back into the tea room nearly frantic with anticipation. He had an idea of what he would find and wasn’t disappointed. Roberta pranced behind him then stood for a few seconds, swaying slightly, at her husband’s side. Squealing with unfeigned pleasure, she rushed forward and placed a soft hand over Dave’s straining pecs, toying with the pale bronze nipples, tracing the deep cleft and ridges to his soaked armpits. ‘Oh, sweetheart, I love it!!’ she exclaimed. Lightly fingering the triangle of rope framing the stud’s inflamed groin, she reached down and grasped the head of his cock. Dave’s bowed head had jerked to attention as soon as the door was opened. Though the banker’s pretty slut was having the first go, the young stud easily ignored her, riveting his tear-filled gaze on Hascombe instead. Barely aware of the nimble hand tweaking his penis, he bent his will in two, contradictory, directions; both aimed at the banker. The first, a plea- Let me go, oh fuck, man, let me go and the second a promise- I’ll find a way to kill you. I swear it!! Hascombe, oblivious, stared back and saw only stark pain and bitter humiliation. Roberta tittered with giddy excitement, interrupting the incongruous exchange, ‘Look, Brent, he’s getting hard!!!’ It was true. Dave’s thick cock stood at half-mast and, though its owner had descended to depths of stark humiliation, his cock certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. A wave of jealousy washed over Hascombe and, hardly thinking, he stepped forward and leaned heavily on the prisoner’s bent leg. Dave felt an instantaneous jerk on his balls and screamed in shocked pain as Roberta, caught by surprise, bristled like a cat and leaped backwards splashing a full glass of wine on her husband’s shirt. ‘Dammit, Roberta, I’ve had this shirt for years. Look what you’ve done!’ ‘Oh fuck you,’ she replied, hands on hips, mouth twisted in a pretty little pout. The portly banker, to his wife’s surprise, grinned and pulled out his cell phone. He punched some numbers and looked up at his wife’s quizzical stare. ‘What are you doing?’ She was genuinely perplexed. ‘Oh,’ he said casually, ‘I thought I’d give Bobby a ring, maybe invite him over.’ Dave watched the exchange, nonplussed, suddenly gripped by cold anxiety. The fucker was going to invite someone over???? Oh, please no, please... Roberta seemed to agree with the gist, if not the substance, of the prisoner’s concern. ‘Brent! No! I can’t stand that stinking…creep.’ Hascombe wrinkled his nose at her and spoke into the receiver, ‘Hello? Bobby?’

‘Brent?’ the voice on the other end of the line seemed breathless. ‘Yeah, it’s me and, like I said, we’ve got a live one over here,’ the banker sounded smug and, Bobby supposed, had a right to be. ‘He’s here right in front of me,’ Hascombe said and pictured Bobby in his filthy three bedroom house drooling into the mouthpiece of the phone. ‘I’ll believe it when I hear it,’ Bobby replied. ‘Make him say something.’ ‘Sure, Bobby,’ Hascombe said, and jerked hard on the rope attached to the noose around Dave’s pendulous balls. The big stud yelped on cue and Bobby whistled appreciatively from six miles away. ‘What’s he look like, Brent?’ Bobby asked; one hand eagerly shoved down the front of his trousers. ‘Six foot three, twenty six years old- this guy’s in his prime, Bobby! Solid muscle, from smooth chiseled chest to rock hard belly and narrow hips. Long legs dusted with pale, wiry hair- oh, yeah, we got a real golden boy here- dark bronze bush running up in a curly highway to his belly button…’ As Hascombe talked he stroked the parts of Dave’s roped body being described, pausing as he swirled a forefinger lazily in the depths of the buck’s deep navel. Dave turned his blond head sideways in a ritual gesture of denial, deeply humiliated as his naked physique was intimately described to a stranger. It was bad enough to be the play thing of Hascombe and his wife but, after hours spent in their company, at least now there was an aspect of horrific familiarity; nothing left to be revealed (or so he thought). This was different.

Bobby’s voice crackled over the line, pitched high with excitement, ‘What about his equipment, Brent? You have him stripped down completely, right?’ ‘Oh yeah, my friend, our boy’s standing right here, listening to every word, strung up nice and pretty…buck naked,’ he laughed and tousled the thick patch of pubic hair at Dave’s groin then moved lower and grabbed his testicles. ‘Nice balls- smooth and heavy, look packed enough with thick juice to shoot the moon. And, Bobby, you should get a look at this stud’s cock!! Took me a while to get it unwrapped…didn’t it boy???’ Dave felt sick and, guessing the question was rhetorical, remained silent. Hascombe backhanded him across the face and shouted, ‘Answer me, boy!’ Bobby nearly came in his pants and fought a wild urge to hang up the phone and jump in his car. ‘Yeah’- a simple reply dragged choking from the depths of his shame. Roberta cackled softly from a corner of the room where she lounged against a cushion cradling the bottle of Chablis. ‘Oh, and Bobby, this guy’s proud, high ass is to die for!!!’ The simpering tone as Hascombe moved out of sight and began tracing ticklish spirals on the hard muscles of Dave’s smooth butt pushed anger and terror to the fore in equal proportion. Always conscious of the rope buried deep in the crack, rubbing its strange combination of throbbing pain and pleasure, Dave shied from the implications and, like a man compulsively swallowing from nervous fear, flexed the massed muscles of his sculpted ass. The banker bit his tongue and croaked something unintelligible into the phone. ‘Brent!! You still there?’ Bobby was shaking, drenched with sweat. He listened, in an agony of suspense, to twenty seconds of heavy breathing. Finally, a reply as if from very far away. The tone was calm; oddly controlled rather than dispassionate, ‘Oh yes, my friend, and I think its past time that you were too. Get your ass over here…and bring some…ah…gear.’ Bobby let out a whoop of unrestrained joy so loud that Dave was finally able to hear the voice of the unseen listener. It wouldn’t be the last time and so, he thought, it just gets worse and worse. At that moment, the tall stud had no idea just how correct his perception was and this, perhaps, was the only mercy he would know in the course of the long evening.

+++

The old pervert glanced at his wristwatch. It was nearly eleven o’clock, but he still felt energized. Shit, he thought, I haven’t felt this good since I was fifteen. Actually, Hascombe hadn’t felt so fine at fifteen or any other age but, given the circumstances, perhaps his enthusiastic fantasizing can be forgiven. His over-blown confidence stuttered slightly as Bobby shouted (and Hascombe winced), ‘I’m on my way!’ and slammed down the phone. Turning to his captive buck, the banker took stock of the situation…and shook his head in unbelieving amazement, worried that he would somehow wake from the pleasant dream. Dave, distracted by all of the activity, floated calm, for a moment, on the seamless agony of Shibari, like a chugging boat in the eye of a hurricane. He caught Hascombe’s eye and, realizing that holding the banker’s gaze gave the other man a view, not of his stripped body, but of his naked soul, Dave acquiesced anyway. Why? he wondered. Hascombe knew the answer and knowing filled him with an odd kind of pride- because he owned this beautiful man- and rage- because he understood that Dave’s spirit, though captured, roped and tormented like his long muscular body, remained fundamentally untouched. He hadn’t yet succeeded in branding it with his bloody ‘H’. The handsome buck remained what he had always been; a former marine imbued with the strange and tenacious honor of the Corps; insouciant construction worker and loyal son, unselfconscious in his physicality and joy of living; happy, uncomplicated heterosexual dealing with the petty travails embodied in a girl named Cathy just like millions of other guys; impossible good looks tempered by casual narcissism that somehow remained innocent. Hascombe read it all in Dave’s sky-blue eyes and shook his head in amazement. Well, Bobby was on his way and, though the rich banker was used to being the one in charge, deep down he realized that he would always remain an amateur in the face of his friend’s monstrous talent. Oh, you poor boy, he thought and, in the space of a few fleeting seconds, nearly cut the ropes letting his captive slip free into the night. Hascombe blinked, breaking contact, ending the reverie. The night was still so young. Dave turned away and set his handsome face to the far side of the hurricane.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Tracker catches the eye of Channel Five’s weatherman.

Channel 4 Weatherman Loses a Big Bet – Conclusion
A Tracker Shotts story
by robcot
Series: Channel 4 Weatherman Loses a Big Bet

It was the guy from the bar, the guy who hit on me when I was talking to Ted. I took his phone number but lost it. Didn’t that guy give a different name and say he was in marketing or something? And, he said he donated to Channel 5’s drive for the children’s hospital instead of ours… oh, fuck.

Potter Troutman, Channel 5’s weatherman, was totally silent. No wisecracks, nothing to break the tension. He just stared at me. I thought about what Bill said, about whoever saw us in our underwear would forever remember us as weak, humiliated, powerless to hide the most intimate parts of ourselves from whomever wanted to see us.

Jimmy started working faster, oiling up my abs, back, legs, and butt.

“All right, glad this has been fun for you, Jimmy, but we need to get these guys outside, washing cars in front of the large audience we have assembled,” Skipper said.

“We’ve got a problem with Tracker here, though,” Jimmy said. He playfully slapped my erect cock. I winced in humiliation.

“That’s an easy problem to solve. Just put Bengay on his dick and balls,” Potter said, coldly, like he was advising someone on how to groom a dog.

“What?,” Sam asked.

“Sure, that stuff makes the blood flow more, so it kills erections. It will sting him a little bit, but…,” Potter shrugged.

“I’ve got some here,” Jimmy said.

Jimmy squirted the Bengay heat rub cream onto his hand and then lightly brushed the goo onto my dick and balls. The sting was immediate. The pain was intense. I shouted into the gag and tried to bring my legs against my private parts to scrape some of that stuff off. But, again, with my hands tied at my shoulder blades, and my feet held together with my own underwear band, there was absolutely nothing I could do but wince and stare into the eyes of Potter, my tormentor.

“Can I get the tape of this? This is exactly how I want to remember Tracker,” Potter asked.

“It doesn’t seem to have addressed the problem, though. Might have even made it a bit worse,” Skipper said.

“Yeah, I guess I was wrong about the science of that, a little bit. Maybe we could experiment on him in other ways,” Potter said, smiling.

“My suggestion? Leave him naked. In fact, let’s keep the sports guy naked, too; he’s pretty hot,” Jimmy said.

“This is my mistake. Give me a minute and I’ll wash that stuff off his dick. Come with me, Tracker,” Potter said, and grabbed my shoulder, beckoning me to walk.

But I could only take small steps with my underwear around my feet.

“Step out of those, you won’t need them where we’re going,” Potter ordered.

Reluctantly, I obeyed, and my briefs became nothing but a sad, oily wad of elastic and cotton lying on the floor. Jimmy picked them up and tossed them in a trash bin. I guess he was allowed to do that, seeing as how Channel 5 owned those briefs, along with my body.

Skipper stood between Bill and Pete and casually hung his arms over their shoulders.

“Hey guys? You’re OK with him being led away like that, naked and tied up and gagged? What do you think might happen?,” Skipper asked my colleagues.

“I’m not OK with it, but fuck if I’m following those two anywhere. Tracker’s a big boy, he’ll take care of himself,” Pete said.

***

Potter Troutman, Channel 5 weatherman, led me down the hall, away from the makeup room. We passed a couple of super young guys, probably interns from high school or college, who looked at me and laughed. Two women, coming out of a break room, gasped and covered their mouths.

The face they saw, if they looked at my face, was tearing up, twisted, and bright red. Partly from the humiliation, but mostly because my naked dick felt like someone had poured gasoline on it and lit a match. As humiliating as the whole experience was, the Bengay on my dick was foremost on my mind.

Potter turned a corner, and we ran into the three people I least wanted to see at that moment.

Naked, bound, gagged, oiled, erect, and in obvious pain, I came face-to-face with my boss, Channel 4 anchorman Sam Rexson, with Tim Trebow (his Channel 5 counterpart), and, of course, Truman Thompson, the most important businessman in town, who could make or break me with a single phone call. The three most important men with the most power over my career were seeing me at my worst, completely reduced to a helpless sex-doll, being paraded against his will through a rival’s office. Instinctively my hands moved to cover my crotch, but of course they couldn’t, because they were tied behind my back—tied at my shoulder blades, so that my ass was exposed and vulnerable.

It was then, in the most humiliating moment of the most humiliating day of my life, that I decided just to own it. I remembered some of Sam’s advice from earlier in the day—don’t hide yourself like you’re ashamed, just be there, proud. I resisted the urge to crouch and hide myself and just stood with my chest out, and walked forward at an even speed.

“Hello, Mr. Trebow, Mr. Thompson… I was just taking Tracker here to give him some quick medical attention,” Potter Troutman said.

Finally, Potter took me to a door with a star on it, and a blank space where there was supposed to be a sign saying whose dressing room it was. While I stood there naked and tied up, he fumbled with a key ring, making sure I was out there just long enough for a couple of guys in their forties to walk past me and say, “Hey, Tracker.”

Potter opened the door and we rushed in. He had a makeup station there. He took out some cold cream and put it on my dick and balls, and they immediately felt better. He rubbed the cold cream into the fire goo shit that Jimmy had put on and then rubbed both off at once. Through the ball gag, I breathed an enormous sigh of relief.

“So, let me ask you a question,” Potter said.

With that, Potter pulled his T-shirt over his head and threw it off. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them to the floor, too, then stepped out of them.

Potter was wearing only gray briefs.

I fucking love gray briefs.

No, really, let me explain. I’m known around town for this. I will pretty much fuck any guy who wears gray briefs, they are that much of a turn on. You could be a six-hundred-pound war criminal, and I will fuck your ass if you approach me in gray briefs. Gray briefs are my fucking kryptonite.

Wearing only gray briefs, Potter walked two fingers across my bare, oiled chest, from one sensitive nipple to the next.

“I think you’re really hot, Tracker. Totally straight up, you don’t have to say yes, completely consensual, but, would you like me to use your body as a sex slave for a few minutes? If you say no, it’s totally cool, I’ll give you a towel to wear and bring you back with the other guys,” Potter said.

I nodded, vigorously, and tried to say “yes” through my gag.

“Excellent, you’re all mine, then. That $2,000 I contributed to Channel 5’s fundraising drive for the children’s hospital really paid off. Basically, I bought you. I own your body, for less than it costs to buy a horse. Hot, huh?,” Potter said.

Potter had a two-seat loveseat sofa pushed against his wall. He pulled it away from the wall and turned it around, then bent my body over the top, exhibiting my ass.

“Of course, I used the company expense account, so, really, it’s Channel 5 that’s about to fuck you,” Potter said.

Potter opened a drawer and took out a tube of lube and a box of condoms, spread my ass cheeks, and starting lubing me up.

“Prepare for a warm front, heading up your ass,” Potter said, totally seriously.

I started to laugh through the ball gag just as Potter started to fuck me. Yes, Potter Troutman, Channel 5 weatherman, really did say that. I swear. And there was more, as he got more excited: “Storm front moving in! Record temperatures! Wear your raincoats!”

I need to defend my profession, here. I have met a lot of other weathermen. I’m pretty sure none of them shout out weather metaphors during sex. But the guy riding my ass at that moment? Yeah, he does that.

When he climaxed, Potter shouted (thankfully, it wasn’t another weather pun) and withdrew from me. He collapsed on my back for a second, and then I felt him untie my hands. He pulled me upright, and stared at my still very erect dick.

“Listen, my big dumb sex slave, I order you to fuck me, now,” Potter announced.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

In the end, the Channel 4 guys turn the tables on their captors.

Channel 4 Weatherman Loses a Big Bet – Conclusion
A Tracker Shotts story
by robcot
Series: Channel 4 Weatherman Loses a Big Bet

Potter had kept his gray briefs on while fucking me. Now he was pulling them off, but I stopped his hands, shaking my head, and left them mostly on him, with the rear pulled down just far enough.

Potter had been like a jackrabbit with me, but I was smooth and slow with him, like a slow ballet dancer, letting him feel every stroke. He started to shout at me to go faster, but I didn’t. He was mine now, and I was going to do this how I wanted.

The day of humiliation and stimulation had basically served as two hours of foreplay for me, so I’m sorry to say that I came much faster than normal. But Potter seemed satisfied. He rolled over onto the couch and breathed heavily.

With my hands free, I took the gag out of my mouth.

“Thanks, I enjoyed that. But I’m going to leave now. Can I borrow these?,” I asked, as I grabbed Potter’s gray briefs off his legs.

“No, you can’t, give them back,” Potter said, still exhausted on the couch.

“No, I think I will keep them. Your shirt and pants, too, look like they’ll be a bit big on me, but I’m going to borrow them too,” I said, as I put on the gray briefs and grabbed Potter’s other clothes off the floor.

“It’s an order, you have to obey. Give me back my clothes,” Potter said.

“Not anymore, I don’t. You’ve got a change of clothes here in your dressing room, right? I’m not leaving you here naked with nothing to put on, am I?,” I asked.

Stunned, Potter didn’t answer, but the room had one closet, so I opened it and saw a shirt and suit hanging there. The shirt fit me, and Potter’s trousers from the floor were big but they would do. I put them on.

“Tracker, after everything you’ve been through already, you’re going to default on the bet now? Take off those clothes. I’ll take you back without more people seeing you naked, I promise,” Potter pleaded.

He was standing now, naked, covering his dick with his hands for some reason.

I ignored him and opened some drawers on his dresser until I found what I was looking for: a neat pile of gray briefs. I picked up the whole pile.

“Put this on, nothing else, and follow me,” I ordered, tossing him a pair. I carried the briefs and the spare clothes with me.

“You give the orders now, huh?,” Potter said.

“Yup,” I said.

I opened the dressing room drawer and, now fully clothed (though barefoot), walked outside. I didn’t turn my head to see if Potter followed my instructions. But I heard laughing, and I knew that he had.

I remembered every step back to the makeup room. When I got there, the situation had deteriorated, or improved, depending on your point of view. Both Pete Pucker and Bill Bobcat were totally naked, their hands still tied behind their backs, their faces terrified and their eyes avoiding all contact with mine. Ripped shards of white briefs littered the floor.

Tim Trebow, Channel 5 anchorman, had his phone out, and was snapping pictures, mostly of Pete.

Sam, our anchorman, was there, too, saying nothing. Thank God, Truman Thompson was not present.

Jimmy was holding a ruler up to Bill’s limp, exposed dick, and calling out a measurement.

“Three inches. Oh, you poor thing,” Jimmy said.

“What the fuck is going on here?,” I asked.

“I should ask you the same thing, slave. Take off those clothes and join your buddies in that position. Bill, here, was rude enough to complain that white briefs are too humiliating, so we’re measuring all of you for jock straps now, instead,” Skipper said.

“Do it, Tracker. These guys are not fucking around,” Sam, our anchorman said.

“I’ll bet you stole those clothes from Potter. If they aren’t on the floor in ten seconds, I’m calling in security to reclaim that stolen property, and to ship your naked thieving ass off to— holy shit!,” Skipper started.

Potter entered behind me at that point, wearing only gray briefs, nervously adjusting the waistband. I ignored him.

“Sam, how much did Channel 4 lose the fundraising competition for the children’s hospital by?,” I asked.

“One thousand dollars,” Sam said.

“And Potter, how much of a donation did you put on Channel 5’s expense account?,” I asked.

“Uh, two thousand, why?,” Potter said.

“Oh, fuck,” Tim Trebow said.

“Oh, FUCK,” Skipper Treadly, Channel 5 sports reporter, shouted, turning his head toward the ceiling.

Sam shook his head.

“Using station funds is against the rules. It’s supposed to be how much money you raise from your viewers,” Sam said.

“You mean, Channel 4 actually won the bet?,” Bill asked.

“Oh, FUCK,” Potter said.

“And so, the tables turn, motherfuckers,” Pete said.

I walked over to Pete and started untying his hands.

“Who are the three personalities from Channel 5 who have to be our slaves?,” I asked.

Tim Trebow had his head in his hands, now.

“This year, it was going to be Skipper, Potter, and me,” he said.

Though naked and tied up, Bill, suddenly, filled the room with an unnatural, commanding voice:

“Though you enjoyed yourselves immensely this morning, and were about to subject us to even more humiliation as you displayed our naked bodies outdoors and forced us to perform menial labor for your staff, all the sick pleasure you took from that will now disappear. Know, all of you, that we will take revenge on you like you cannot imagine. For all the depraved acts you’ve committed against us, what we imagined you were about to do was always worse, and, be certain, we remember everything we feared you were about to do and plan to do the same, and more, to you. That you are still, at this moment, wearing clothes at all, surprises me, and offends me. I would think, at this point, that you would be immediately showing me worshipful obedience, and struggling to outdo each other in winning my merciful favor,” Bill said.

Skipper started to unbutton his shirt, and Potter started to pull down his gray briefs.

“Hold on, guys. Keep your pants on,” I said.

“What?,” Bill shouted.

I tossed Pete a pair of briefs and the extra pair of pants from Potter’s closet. Then I went up to the cameraman and held out my hand, and he gave me the camera. I switched it off, and kept it. Then I went to Tim Trebow and took his phone.

I took a deep breath and addressed the room.

“Look, let’s all just chill. You Channel 5 guys let things get out of hand, but we’re going to be big about this and not turn ourselves into the type of guys who get thrills out of bringing people down. Instead, we’re going to build you up. This whole thing was supposed to be about raising money for sick kids. So, guess what: your costumes are going to be cartoon characters, and you’re going to wear them in the children’s hospital, hopefully making some kids’ day. As for us, we’re going to make sure you erase all video and photos you took of us. Then we’re going to get dressed, and just leave. Which reminds me, Skipper, did you guys really throw our clothes away?,” I said.

Skipper cleared his throat, looked nervously at his feet, and answered.

“Uh, well, yeah, I think so. There wasn’t much more need for your clothes. My plan was, when you were done washing our cars in your underwear, we’d make you strip naked again, outdoors, and hose you off naked, like animals, in full view of the crowd in the street, which by then would have swelled in size because of our live broadcasts encouraging people to come watch your humiliation. Then, the plan was to make you beg for clean pairs of underwear and bus fare to get home. You would need the bus fare because we were going to have your cars towed out of our parking lot, while you watched, helpless to stop them because we would be forcing you to apply second coats of wax to our own cars at the time. The begging, we were going to make you do on your knees, of course, and probably we would have exacted some sort of price, like forcing the two straight dudes to give you a blowjob, Tracker. Where was I? Oh yeah, the bus fare. Of course, there isn’t a bus leaving here that goes directly to your studio, so you would have to take the bus downtown, and then wait, patiently, wearing only underwear, for a transfer bus to take you to the other side of town. About this time of the week, the city jail, located right across the street from that bus stop, releases inmates on parole, so you’d be sharing the bus stop with them. But at that point, while you waited at the station, we were going to catch up with you, and make you give back the underwear we loaned you, because it was only a loan, and then we’d wish you luck in getting home naked. Did I mention you would still be tied up the whole time? We were going to make you hold the bus fare in your mouth, with the coins down your underwear. You’d have to ask the driver to fish the exact change out for you,” Skipper said.

“OK, so, Tracker—,” Pete began.

I cut him off.

“Yeah, I know. So, Potter and Tim, same plan as before, you guys go off to the children’s hospital and entertain some kids. Skipper, you clearly should be nowhere near children. You are, in fact, a total asshole. So, I’m going to turn you over to Bill, here. Bill, you’re looking good, do you need anything before I go?”

“Strip, maggot. Yes, you will be untying me, but you will not approach me without first prostrating yourself before me, naked, and begging for my mercy,” Bill said to Skipper.

“I think Bill’s good. Hey, mind if I stick around to see how small Skipper’s dick is?,” Pete asked me.

“Pete…” I began.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Pete said.

We were in the parking lot, walking towards our cars. Pete was still shirtless but didn’t seem to mind. There was, indeed, a small crowd assembled to see us, but we waved them off.

“And anyway, your dick is really not that small,” I said.

“Promise me you’ll never speak of that again, and that you’re going to erase everything in that camera,” Pete said.

“Yeah, well, something like that,” I said.

I threw the cameraman’s camera in my front seat, made sure nothing was erased from it, and drove home.

THE END

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Hercules endures three more tortures including being roasted alive!

The Erotic Adventures of Hercules & the King of the Manazons – Page 5
by Cavelo
Series: Hercules & the King of the Manazons

Hercules […]