GayBondageFiction

As he carries out his duties cleaning and shaving Samson, slaveboy Micah takes full advantage of his position of power over the horny captured hero. But a mysterious turn of events leads the curious slave to make […]

Brent’s endurance test continues with some variety of “party games” that include tickling and a very stimulating trivia challenge.

Guys & Pals – Chapters 3 & 4
by Alan Baker Charlie
Series: Guys & […]

When a 19 yo takes a summer job at a farm operated by his best friend’s older brother, he quickly finds himself on the receiving end of a stinging whip expertly wielded by his iron-fisted boss and two horny black […]

Steve deals out the pain then his black “assistants” get more invasive in Part 2.

Taking the Whip – Part 2
by Whiplash235
Series: Taking the Whip
Art by Neil Bruce at Bearoticart.com

At the sound of someone else entering the barn, I turned and glanced back fearfully.  Steve had taken off his shirt, and his brown body was every bit as powerful and muscular as I had thought.  His upper body was very well developed, showing that he clearly did at least his own fair share of the physical work around the farm.  He was smiling wickedly as he strode over to me, and in his right hand he was carrying a heavy leather whip.  The sight of it made me swallow hard: it was about two meters long, with a wooden handle about the size of a runner’s baton, and the single leather thong started the same thickness as the handle, tapering off to a point at the end.  This was a whip designed to cut a person’s body, and I trembled at the thought of it being laid across my defenceless bare back.  There was nothing I could do, though: I was truly helpless.  My heart was beating wildly, and I hardly noticed Jonathan trailing behind his brother, his own shirt still hanging around the waist of his trousers.

“So, he’s ready for his punishment?” asked Steve unnecessarily, receiving an enthusiastic nod from Sikhumbuzo, and a slower, more thoughtful one from Nhlanhla.

He tested whether the bonds were tight, deliberately resting the whip against my back, as though introducing my body to the instrument that was going to test its endurance.  I took a shuddering breath, which made Steve grin even more.  Satisfied that the ropes were tight enough, he took two or three steps back, measuring the distance between himself and his victim, while I tried vainly to prepare myself for what was to come.  I heard him uncoil the whip, and then he spoke:

“Well, it seems that you have accepted that you deserve a beating, and that’s good for a start.  Since this is your first time, we’ll settle for ten lashes, with just the four of us to see how you handle the whipping.  If you put on a good show, we might call the others to witness on another occasion.”

The whip swished through the air and the first blow thudded across the middle of my back; it hurt much more than I could have imagined, and I gave a short involuntary cry as my body reflexively arched against the pain.  I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth; there was a pause, and I saw in my mind’s eye Steve slowly flicking the whip behind him and taking a bead on me.  The whip sang again, and I desperately gripped the metal rings in preparation; the blow streaked across my back, again pushing my body against the restraints.  I didn’t cry out this time, but they told me later that I pissed myself.  Then I did look behind me during the next pause, and I saw Steve, a happy smile on his face, the muscles on his chest and arm rippling as he drew the whip behind him; I closed my eyes at the swishing sound and then the third stroke streaked across my body, more or less parallel with the first two.  I gasped heavily and drew in a shuddering breath, feeling myself swing back after moving forward; the pain was seeping into me as I waited for the next blow.

The whip caressed my body twice more, swinging me violently forwards, though the return was almost gentle, except for the incredible pain that was building up with each stroke, and I was beginning to writhe and struggle, trying to defy the restraints that brought me back each time, placing me exactly where Steve wanted me.  Then there was a longer pause, and I looked back to see Steve coiling the whip, almost as if he had decided that five strokes might be enough…I took deep shuddering breaths as Steve spoke:

“He’s doing quite well, isn’t he?  No blubbering yet.  Well, let’s see how he takes the remaining five.”

I realized later that he was just talking to give the pain more time to build – he was enjoying himself too much to stop half way through.  I could also see that Sikhumbuzo would have been terribly disappointed had Steve stopped, judging from the glee on his face when the whip sang for the sixth time.  Nhlanhla appeared to be a bit more circumspect: he was enjoying the whipping, certainly, but his face suggested that he had other ideas about how to use the body stretched out bare from the waist up in front of him.

The blow struck cruelly, cutting another red line across my back, and I fancied that the whip was heavier somehow, or the thud of leather on my skin was damper, due to its mingling with my own sweat and blood.  A strangled cry escaped my lips as I was forced forward, and I could feel my wrists and ankles trying to break their bonds, uselessly of course, and I dangled helplessly in position for the next stroke.  I closed my eyes against the swooshing whip, perhaps also against the evil grin on Sikhumbuzo’s face as he watched me writhe this way and that, but I could not close myself of from the burst of pain as the seventh stroke streaked across the small of my back, though I did manage to stop another cry.  I had absorbed the whip seven times, and though there were lights dancing before my eyes, I was suddenly determined not to cry out again, no matter how I was being tested.

I almost lost that determination when the eighth stroke cut more deeply and more damply than the others, flinging me against the metal rings and wooden pegs, telling me for sure that Steve’s lash really was becoming wet with the blood and sweat from my poor back, and promising that the last two strokes were going to test me even more.  I glanced back to see Steve actually laughing as he flicked the whip behind him, preparing for the next stroke.  Impossibly, the sight of him stripped to the waist, his light brown torso gleaming with his own sweat, actually occasioned a pleasurable feeling in my groin in the midst of the pain.  He saw me looking at him, and paused, as though to offer me the opportunity to beg, but I was so confused that I could not utter any words, and with a shrug he stepped into the ninth stroke, and my body arched convulsively as the lash streaked across me.  Perhaps it was a deliberate blow, or the product of my fevered imagination clouded by the mounting pain, but the final stroke seemed to cut me from my left shoulder down to my right side, and I sagged against the restraints – the whipping was over, but the pain told me that my back was on fire.

I was vaguely aware of Steve approaching, and I started when I felt his hand on my right shoulder, stroking almost gently.  “I’m impressed, you took your punishment well,” I heard him say, and then to Nhlanhla and Sikhumbuzo, “Ok, he’s all yours for a while, but I want him back at work tomorrow.  I’ll leave the whip, but only five more, unless he’s really begging for it.”

I barely registered the sounds of Steve and Jonathan leaving the barn, but I stirred when Sikhumbuzo walked to the table behind me, presumably to pick up the whip and carry on where Steve had left off.  I opened my mouth, half intending to spit out some defiant words, but Nhlanhla forestalled me by clamping his hand over my mouth.  “Don’t,” he said, almost tenderly, “there’s nothing Sikhumbuzo would like more than to cut you while the whip is still wet with your blood.”

The thought of another five strokes caused me to look at him plaintively, I was not sure I could stand any more on top of the ten lashes that Steve had just laid on me.

“Admit it, though,” said Sikhumbuzo from behind.  I could hear that him picking up the whip and flicking it about in preparation for more fun.  “You would also like to see him writhe and how he handles even deeper cuts.”

I could see the truth of Sikhumbuzo’s words in Nhlanhla’s eyes.  It was obvious that he was weighing up an idea of getting me more naked with a desire to see how I handled more of the lash.  I said nothing but I continued to plead with my eyes.

Nhlanhla came to a decision.  “Let’s see if we can distract him,” he said to me mysteriously.  He undid the front of my trousers and pushed them open.  I was momentarily embarrassed, because he could clearly see my member jutting against my shorts; I was also surprised that the erection was still there.  “Wow,” he uttered in some admiration, “it seems like you really did enjoy your whipping.”  He pushed my trousers down a little further, and before I understood what he was doing, he ripped my shorts, first on one side and then on the other, and pulled them from under me, leaving my trousers resting on my rump, while my erection straightened out in front.  He delicately stroked the shaft of my penis.  I had never before had another person touch me there, and despite the fierce pain all over my back, the sudden pleasure of his warm hand running lightly along my erect member overshadowed everything else.  I gasped and tried to pull away, even though I wanted him to continue.  He took my sex in his hand and started to stroke the tip with his thumb, making me twist and shudder at sensations that I was feeling for the first time.

“You really should come and see this,” he said over my shoulder.

Sikhumbuzo came round, carrying the heavy whip half-coiled.  I do not know if it was the result of Nhlanhla’s continued stroking, or merely the sight of Sikhumbuzo, stripped to his shorts, his brown body shining with anticipation, the whip resting by his side, but my member seemed to straighten even further.  He was also amazed, but there was disappointment in his voice as he said, “I suppose you’re going to say that we shouldn’t whip him anymore.”

“Well, this is his first time, and if I know Steve, there’ll be plenty of other opportunities to see how far he can go under the lash.”

I remained silent, but my mind was confused with conflicting emotions.  ‘Plenty of opportunities…how far he can go…’  The pain across my back was still there, but now there was my erect member, keeping straight as though asking for more.  To be stripped again…on another day…to be tied up and whipped…again… I had ‘impressed’ Steve…could I impress them all?  I wondered for a moment if there was another whip in this huge barn, and a terrible, exciting image came to me: Nhlanhla, bare from the waist up, Sikhumbuzo, almost naked except for a pair of khaki shorts, the two of them working on me with their whips.  The swoosh of the whip, the sickening sound of leather striking skin, and me spread-eagled out between the restraints, stripped bare, completely without protection as each lash cut my defenceless body, twisting this way and that – how much of a whipping could I endure?

Nhlanhla broke in through these horribly exciting thoughts.  “What do you say?” he asked.  “Do you want to see where another five strokes will take you?”  He stroked my member again, almost absent-mindedly, sending ripples of pleasure through me.  I didn’t want this to stop.

He was asking me, though I was completely at their mercy.  There was nothing I could do if Nhlanhla decided to strip me completely naked.  I was stretched out for his pleasure, and the picture of his bare body enveloping mine kept my erection strong.  The idea of Sikhumbuzo standing behind me, whip in hand, aroused me to the point that I wondered if I might come were he to whip me for too long.  Steve had administered the unexpected punishment, but these two had set the scene.  They had pulled the shirt off my back, fastened my wrists to the metal rings and my ankles to the wooden pegs, Nhlanhla was holding my erect penis in his hand.  If he decided to take me, spread-eagled out as I was, I would probably give myself to him as completely as I could; if Sikhumbuzo wanted to test me further with the whip, I would bear it as best I could.  I looked at these two youths with their superbly muscled physique; Nhlanhla began stroking the shaft of my member again and rubbing his thumb gently around the tip, and I almost moaned at the pleasure of it.  I realized that I wanted them to do whatever they wanted to do to me.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Nhlanhla & Sikhumbuzo fuck their tough captive then continue his flogging.

Taking the Whip – Part 3
by Whiplash235
Series: Taking the Whip
Art by Neil Bruce at Bearoticart.com

I looked at Nhlanhla.  “Let’s do it,” I said hoarsely, as much to my own surprise as theirs.  I took a ragged breath and continued, “I can take another five, maybe even more,” –  though I regretted the words almost immediately when I saw the way Sikhumbuzo eagerly gripped the heavy whip and the cruel look of pleasure on his face.  He was going to enjoy whipping me so much he might not know when to stop.  All the same, I was committed to the astonishing experiences of this afternoon; a moment ago I was silently pleading no more of the lash, and now my erection was becoming even firmer at the thought of this half-naked youth taking up position behind me with the whip in his hand.  I looked at Nhlanhla and cleared my throat.  “When he is finished,” I said to him, “I want to feel you inside me, as deep as you can go; I want your body around me while I’m stretched out like this and helpless; we’ll see who writhes the most.”

I got what I asked for in reverse order, for Nhlanhla stopped stroking my member and moved behind me purposefully.  Sikhumbuzo coiled the whip again, knowing that he would have to wait for a short while, and he stood there watching.  I shuddered expectantly as Nhlanhla moved my pants further down at the back; he started to knead my butt like a piece of dough, and then I felt his hands separating my cheeks.  My erection was as upright as ever, perhaps looking for more attention.  I felt his hands separating the cheeks of my butt, and then something hard pushed between them, and there was a terrible tingling in the pit of my stomach as Nhlanhla’s erect member probed, looking for entry.  The way in was rough, and I struggled helplessly as he continued to force his way, though I was aware that he was trying not to touch my damaged back, which I recognized as a kindness.  When he found what he was looking for, Nhlanhla entered quite smoothly with a happy sigh, and suddenly I was pinned against the restraints, his member probing deep inside me, his groin firmly against me, and his hands began to caress my chest, stomach and now very erect member, though he still tried to avoid pressing himself against my back.

We hung like that for long moments: Nhlanhla thrusting inside me while his hands continued to caress me all over the front of my body; I moved this way and that as he stroked my bare body, and he followed my movements, moaning quietly as he continued to penetrate ever deeper.  His chest touched my back, and I groaned in a combination of pain at the sudden contact and the awful pleasure as he wrapped his naked form around me, stroking and caressing with a new urgency.  I clenched my buttocks against his member, and I was rewarded with a louder moan and fiercer caresses.  Nhlanhla was moving to his own climax, and his hands began to focus on my member, stroking the shaft and fingering the tip, sending wild surges of pleasure through me; we writhed and twisted together as I pushed my body this way and that, half trying to escape the probing from behind along with the incredible caresses that were becoming more than I could bear, but mainly following his wonderful hands as they drew me to sensations that were so intense I didn’t realize that I was crying out for more.

Sikhumbuzo had been fingering the whip, reluctantly awaiting his opportunity, but then he suddenly dropped both the whip and his khaki shorts; he gripped my bound wrists and pressed himself against me, his own erect member thrusting itself against my groin; I felt his breath across my neck and throat as he ran his mouth against my skin, creating another round of shivering delight all over my body.  We became one.  Nhlanhla deep inside me, caressing me and Sikhumbuzo, running his hands over our bare skin indiscriminately, now stroking Sikhumbuzo’s back, drawing the two of us together, now running a hand up and down his side, then mine.  Sikhumbuzo kept his arms outstretched, his naked body resting against me while he thrust repeatedly, his member playing along my stomach and groin; in the middle, I was fighting the restraints, trying uselessly to wrap myself around one or other of them, oblivious to any pain, aware only of the incredible pleasure of these two youths pleasuring themselves on my spread-eagled form.  We came together, more or less: just as Nhlanhla emptied himself into me, Sikhumbuzo and I sprayed one another’s bodies, pumping against each other helplessly in an orgasm of awesome proportions.  I think we all shouted out at the moment of release, I know I certainly did, and then we held each other, panting breathlessly after such an intense experience.

I sagged against the metal rings that kept my arms stretched out, vaguely aware that Nhlanhla was pulling up my trousers, though he kept them open around my groin, while Sikhumbuzo pushed himself away from me.  I saw Sikhumbuzo pick up the heavy leather whip, and I heard Nhlanhla whisper hoarsely in my ear, “Pretty good, fantastic really, but now it’s his turn…”

For the briefest of moments, I had thought that Sikhumbuzo might forgo the whip, but the wicked gleam on his face as he measured the distance between us told me clearly that no such thought had entered his head.  On the one hand, I felt it was grossly unfair that he was about to take ‘his turn’ – hadn’t he just had a turn that should have satisfied him?  But then I looked at his muscular brown body rippling as he uncoiled the whip, and since he was still naked, I saw his member already stiffening in anticipation of the beating that he was about to administer.  Despite the pain I was about to feel, my own member began to stiffen once more at the sight of his naked youthful and athletic body brandishing the whip that was going to test me once more.  It was almost impossible to believe: instead of whimpering helplessly at the thought of more lashes cutting my bare defenceless body, I was relishing the challenge.  I deliberately stretched myself out and met the gleam in his eye with a grin of my own, as though to say, “Do your worst, my friend, I can take it.”  I wanted to show the two of them that I could take more of the lash, and my member was agreeing once again, even though another part of me was horrified that I was actually starting to ‘enjoy’ the whipping.

The first stroke cut through my bravado.  Sikhumbuzo measured the distance well and the hissing whip cut a long weal across my chest; I bit off a screech of pain and breathed deeply as I tried to ready myself, gripping the metal rings with my hands.  I knew the grin had been wiped off my face.  Sikhumbuzo too knew that he had made his point, and he drew the whip behind him with a grimly happy face, including a touch of irony that I might not be as tough as I thought I was.  I closed my eyes for the second stroke, not wanting to see the whip curling towards me, but I heard the horrible swishing sound, immediately followed by the harsh thud of leather streaking across my skin, and I looked down to see another weal forming just below the first.  At least I did not piss myself this time, but the pain was seeping into me, and somehow re-awakening the burning in my back.  I gasped and shook myself against the restraints, watching my tormentor flick the whip behind him, his bare body twisting and his member thickening.  He stepped into the third blow eagerly, clearly enjoying the way I was stripped bare and spread-eagled out for the whipping, and then enjoying the way my body jerked in response to the lash, as well as the louder gasp of pain that the cutting weal caused me.  The fourth stroke quickly followed, and though I was able to stifle any cry, I panicked as I realized, in the midst of the burning pain, that the blows were creeping down the front of my body and this last one had cut across my stomach.  I started to struggle helplessly against the bonds, almost ready to plead while a smiling Sikhumbuzo measured me up for the next stroke – he knew what he was doing, and I cringed fearfully as the whip swished through the air.  It cut a sharp pain just above my groin, biting deep into the sensitive flesh that had tasted the spurting of Sikhumbuzo’s member just a few moments ago.  The whole of my upper torso was on fire, and while my back was more of a memory, my chest and stomach was a space of bright pain.  I breathed heavily, amazed that my member was sticking straight out in defiance of the beating; at least I had endured the five strokes that Sikhumbuzo was allowed.  Except…

“He’s really begging for it, isn’t he?”  Sikhumbuzo was talking to Nhlanhla, and he was not coiling the whip; he obviously wanted to lay it on a bit more.

I glanced over at Nhlanhla who was standing off to one side, his arms folded across his powerful chest, and this time I was ready to beg as I imagined the vicious whip cutting across my exposed groin.  He was watching me with an intense curiosity, as though gauging how many strokes I might be able to endure.  “You’re right,” he said, smiling at me in a horrible way, “I think he wants another two, though that will probably be enough.”

I wanted to scream, beg, but the words would not come out of my mouth.  In my mind’s eye I saw the whip cut me bloody twice, each stroke landing in the same place, the first cutting my trousers away and ripping across my defenceless member, producing a gurgling scream from me that drove Sikhumbuzo to a final, merciless stroke against my totally naked groin.  I could only hope that I would pass out before, or immediately after, the final blow landed.  In fact, the two strokes that Sikhumbuzo laughingly delivered were almost a kindness: each struck me across the chest, and I was so relieved at the first that, for all it was a flash of more cruel pain, I almost did not feel the second lashing my bare stomach, though my body jerked and there were bright lights dancing in front of my eyes.

Sikhumbuzo coiled the whip; he came towards me but did not touch my burning body.  “You are tough,” he said, with some admiration, “but we had you worried for a moment there, didn’t we?  You shouldn’t have though – Steve would have whipped us both long and sorely if we had tested you more than you could endure.  He’s the only one allowed to do that…”

I said nothing.  I was gasping for breath after such a hard whipping, and my arms were stretched out.  I could see – and feel – drops of blood mingling with the sweat dripping down my chest and stomach.  I was filled with relief that my poor defenceless member had not suffered, and I was truly confused that after everything it was still sticking out straight in front of me.  What was even worse, in some ways, was that it was growing a little firmer as my mind played with the image of my two tormentors, Sikhumbuzo wearing only his khaki shorts and Nhlanhla bare from the waist up, both spread-eagled out as I was now, with Steve standing behind them, uncoiling a whip in preparation for a beating that none of us would ever forget.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

A college student has his first gay bondage experience when he shares a bed with his older cousin at a family wedding.

My Cousin’s Nebraska Wedding
by Alan Baker Charlie

“You’re coming to my wedding, aren’t […]

Defiant Paulo endures harsher treatment as he is trained to suck to cock and take it up the ass then suffers the lash for his captors’ entertainment.

The Plantation: Parts 7 & 8
by Tucker
Series: The […]

Submissive Jose is further prepped for his new life as a sex slave including some body modification.

The Plantation: Parts 5 & 6
by Tucker
Series: The Plantation

Part 5

The owner was busy the next […]

A gay man lives out his fantasy of being gang-banged in bondage in this new story from Alan Baker Charlie. Part 2.

Guys & Pals – Chapter 2
by Alan Baker Charlie
Series: Guys & Pals

On Monday morning Brent arrived at the Guys and Pals community center and met up with Edgar. They exchanged greetings. He’s even more handsome in person, thought Edgar, mentally comparing him with the photo he had sent.

“Our little event is going to be hosted by Sam Portico,” said Edgar. “He only lives a block away. Why don’t we ride over in my golf cart.”

“Sure,” said Brent. “How convenient.”

As they drove to Sam’s house, Brent admired the neat little houses and the nice landscaping of each lot.

“I’ve never been here before,” said Brent. “This is really a nice community.”

“We like it very much,” said Edgar. “I particularly like the guys who live here. The age range is from as low as 55 and as high as 102. The guys you’re going to meet are mostly 55 to 65, though.”

“Okay,” said Brent. “This should be fun.”

Edgar knocked on the door, and they didn’t have to wait long for Sam to appear. “Come in, come in,” said Sam.

“This is Brent,” said Edgar.

“Sure,” said Sam. “I recognize him from the picture. Nice to meet you.”

The three of them chatted in the living room for a few minutes. Sam had very good posture, and Brent wondered if he had been in the military. He had a trim build and a crew cut. Edgar, on the other hand, had a more rounded appearance, partly due to a love for food and a reluctance to exercise.

“So, I understand you are the brave young man who wants to be tied up and gang banged,” said Sam.

“Yes, Sir,” said Brent. “I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” said Sam. “The other guys will be over here shortly. We just need to do a bit of set up. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No, I’m fine,” said Brent.

“Are you ready to get tied up?” asked Sam.

“Ready when you are,” said Brent.

“Okay,” said Sam. “Just over here and stand by the wall,” he said, pointing to a wall by the kitchen that had a metal ring at shoulder height.

“Yes, Sir,” said Brent, moving next to the ring.

“Okay, hold still,” said Sam, pushing Brent gently against the wall. He pulled a small length of chain and a lock out of his pocket. He ran the chain through the metal ring on the wall, around Brent’s neck and fastened the chain with his lock, leaving Brent chained to the wall. “Keep your hands at your sides,” said Sam. The older man started unbuttoning Brent’s shirt, working from top to bottom. Once it was fully unbuttoned, he pulled it off. “Nice abs,” said Sam, patting Brent’s abdomen.

“Thanks,” said Brent.

Sam bent down and lifted each of Brent’s feet one at a time, removing his loafers and socks and setting them to the side. Then he stood back up and unbuckled Brent’s pants. A few seconds later, Brent’s pants and boxers were laying on a nearby chair, and Brent was totally naked. Just then someone knocked at the door. A few other guys came in and were introduced to Brent.

“You got started already?” asked one of the guys.

“Just barely,” said Sam. “Get it?” Everyone laughed at the play on words.

“Is it true you want to be gang banged?” the guy asked Brent.

“I’m embarrassed to admit it, but yes, that’s what I was hoping for,” said Brent.

“Be careful what you wish for, young man,” he replied.

“Don’t discourage him,” said Edgar.

“Okay, sorry,” the fellow said sheepishly. “So, did everyone take their Viagra?” he asked.

Everyone groaned.

“I did,” said one of the other guys, and everyone laughed.

Sam went into his bedroom and returned with a device that looked something like a tall sawhorse, except that it had a padded board on the top and rings protruding from the four legs near the floor. He set it up in the middle of the living room. He pulled ankle restraints and wrist restraints from a drawer and fastened them on Brent’s wrists and ankles. He grabbed a bottle of lubricant from the kitchen counter and put some on his right hand. He walked over to Brent, put his left hand over Brent’s mouth and held it there, forcing Brent to breathe through his nose. With his right hand he began stroking Brent’s substantial dick until it got hard.

“Anyone else want to help me get him hard?” asked Sam, stepping back.

“I will,” said Edgar, coming immediately over to Brent. Edgar rubbed Brent’s dick with light strokes for a minute or so, smiling as he saw Brent’s abs contract and his dick bounce.

“Anyone else?” he asked.

“I will,” said another guy. The other guy came over and squeezed Brent’s balls, causing Brent to wince. Then he started rubbing Brent’s dick. After a minute he stopped. “I think he’s ready.”

“I agree,” said Sam. He pulled handcuffs out of a drawer and put them on Brent’s wrists. He pulled out a key and unfastened Brent’s neck from the wall. Sam led Brent over to the sawhorse and positioned him at one end. He pulled two locks from a drawer and used them to fasten Brent’s ankle restraints to the sawhorse legs on the end nearest to where Brent was standing. Sam pulled the handcuff key out of the drawer and unfastened the handcuffs. Then he helped Brent lean over and rest his weight on the padded board at the top of the sawhorse. He pulled two more locks out of the drawer and used them to fasten Brent’s wrist restraints to the legs at the other end of the sawhorse.

Sam left Brent in position there for a moment and retrieved a paddle he had left on his kitchen counter.

“Time to move to the next level,” he said. He smacked Brent’s naked ass several times with the board as the other guys stood around the living room and watched. Someone knocked on the door, and one more guy came in to join in the fun. Sam set the board down and began taking off his clothes in a deliberate manner. Once he was naked, he came around near Brent’s head. “Open your mouth, son,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” said Brent. Sam’s dick slid into Brent’s mouth, and Sam began slowly fucking his mouth, not pushing all the way in so Brent wouldn’t gag. Sam continued on for five minutes, until his dick was really hard. He pulled out, grabbed a condom from a box on the table, and rolled it onto his dick. Sam pulled a small dildo out of the drawer, lubricated it and used it to stretch Brent’s ass and get it ready. Then he applied some lubricant to his condom and rubbed his dick to get it even harder. He put his hands on Brent’s ass cheeks and spread them wide, noting with pleasure the small hairy region around his hole.

Sam positioned his dick against Brent’s hole and began pushing his dick in. Brent moaned and Sam pulled back a little, then pushed further in. Brent moaned again. Sam began flexing his hips, pumping his dick in and out of Brent’s ass. He pushed further and further in. Then he increased his speed until he could feel his balls slapping against Brent’s backside.

“Aaaah, yes!” said Brent, exhaling heavily. “Fuck me, yeah.”

Sam increased his speed again. Two of the other guys in the room unzipped their flies as they watched, pulling their dicks out and stroking them. Everyone watched in silent enjoyment. Brent’s face contorted from time to time as Sam’s dick forced its way in and out and his ass was stretched. His arms flexed from time to time, pulling against the wrists restraints, and he smiled when they held firm. He knew he was held captive, and his hoped-for gang bang was underway.

Sam pulled out and came around to Brent’s head. He pulled off his condom and tossed it on the floor. He rubbed his dick vigorously and shot his load all over Brent’s face and the hair on back of his head and neck. Some of it dripped down on the carpet.

“Damn,” said Sam. “I meant to put some towels down.” Everyone laughed.

“Who’s next?” asked Sam.

One of the guys named Bill had removed all of his clothes, and he stepped forward, picked up the paddle and swatted Brent several times, making his bottom redder. Then he set down the paddle, put a condom on and immediately began plunging his stiff penis into Brent’s ass. Another guy, Gary, shucked his clothes and came over to Brent’s head and began fucking his mouth. Gary was a bit more forceful with his movements, pushing his dick far into Brent’s mouth and making him gag from time to time. Meanwhile, Bill had picked up speed, smacking his body into Brent’s backside with an audible slapping sound. Before long Bill pulled out, came over to Brent’s head and squirted his semen all over it, just as Sam had done, except that some of it landed on Gary as well, just before he pulled his dick out of Brent’s mouth.

Gary came around to Brent’s backside, paddled him, put on a condom, got lubricated and began pounding away on Brent’s ass with his thick dick. Brent gasped and said, “Aaaah. Fuck! Yeah, fuck me.”

The other guys removed the rest of their clothes and each of them took their turn. When the last one finished, they all sat down around Brent to catch their breath.

“That was awesome,” said Sam.

“Very hot,” said Edgar. “I’ve never seen that much semen at one time in my entire life,” he exclaimed. “Are you okay, Brent?”

“I’m doing as well as can be expected,” said Brent. “My ass is really sore, but thank you guys. This has been a fantasy come true.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not done with you yet,” said Sam.

“You have more guys coming over?” asked Brent.

“No,” said Sam. We have more activities planned for you.”

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

[The author of this story is also the author of the novel, “Keith Finds What Makes Him Happy”, which is available on Amazon.]

A gay man lives out his fantasy of being gang-banged in bondage in this new story from Alan Baker Charlie. Part 1.

Guys & Pals – Chapter 1
by Alan Baker Charlie
Series: Guys & Pals

This month’s potluck […]

Another arrogant & homophobic stud is bound, tickled and teased from the ingenious mind of Richard!

Mafia Boss Tony Mummified and Tickled
by Richard
Photo from MyFriendsFeet.com

Tony Massimiliano was a […]

A curious janitor in a futuristic laboratory finds himself part of an insane tickling experiment in this hot & creative gay tickling story by Denis based on a piece of artwork by Achilles Heel Art.

Tickle […]

After being tickled and forced to cum by a sadistic machine, Jerry meets the horny scientists who have more in store for him.

Tickle Spheres – Part 2
by Denis
Series: Tickle Spheres
Art by Achilles Heel […]

Jerry suffers further tickling and humiliations in the laboratory from hell….

Tickle Spheres – Part 3
by Denis
Series: Tickle Spheres
Art by Achilles Heel Art

The next day, Jerry had already managed […]