GayBondageFiction

Muscle boys Cort & Ryder’s ordeal continues with cock cages, the rack, and a painful bone scraping session in the most intense installment of the series thus far.
[ratings]

The Ordeal of Cort and Ryder – Chapter 3: Musclebuds Tortured
by Ragnar1963
Series: The Ordeal of Cort and Ryder

“GET UP.”

Cort and Ryder, lying naked on the dirty stone floor, awoke to the clang of the cell door and the harsh voice of Dax. They had collapsed exhausted immediately after being dragged back to their cell, and now had no idea how much time had passed. Minutes? Days?

But lightning bolts of pain on their lacerated backs cruelly yanked them back into consciousness. Groggily they crawled out of the their cell and struggled to their feet, knowing the price of disobedience, and Dax and Dez quickly handcuffed their wrists behind their backs. Their young hardons, intensified by Viagra and cruel iron cock-ring shackles, had at last subsided. Weakened, exhausted, they did not resist as their jailers unlocked their cock-rings–to sighs of relief from the two muscled prisoners–but then immediately placed on each of their victims a cock cage: close-fitting metal sleeves slipped over their shafts and locked around their nutsacs.

Dez set a pail of water on the floor in front of them, and, almost instinctively, like animals, Cort and Ryder knelt to drink, taking turns because the pail was only large enough to accommodate one drinker at a time. Greedily they replenished their fluids with the cool water, sucking it up like pigs at a trough, kneeling naked, hands chained behind. As usual, the sight of the muscle boy’s humiliation provoked mocking laughter in Dax and Dez.

“STAND UP.”

Faces dripping, the two obeyed. Even after all their ordeals so far, Ryder and Cort were still a highly erotic sight: muscled, naked, handsome, sweating, dirty, hands cuffed behind, cock cages imprisoning their shafts. They dared not ask what would happen next.

Bald, muscled, covered in sinister tattoos, Dax spoke smirkingly. “Guess what was in that water, boys?” Even as he spoke, the chained prisoners could feel their cocks again hardening against their will… and it took only a moment for them to perceive the secret of the cock cages… The Viagra in the water–“A triple dose!” Dax said tauntingly–was swelling their shafts until they could feel… tiny sharp spikes lining the insides of the cages….

The lads winced… looked at their cocks, rising and stiffening to fill the snug cages to the limit… then glared with horrid at their captors, now laughing at seeing the muscle boys realize what those cages would do to their fully erect members.

“Gonna hurt like fuck, ain’t it, when your boners fill those spiked cages?” laughed Dez.

Red-hot fury suddenly boiled within Cort. His exhaustion vanished as he roared in anger and threw himself at Dez. “YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!” he roared. His arms chained, the attack was futile, but he slammed his chest into the muscled guard’s and sent him staggering back.

Instantly Dax grabbed the furious young stud and pulled him off Dez–just as Hondo entered the chamber, equally furious to see his prison attack his strong-arm. Dax restrained Cort, holding his arms behind him. Cort was panting with rage, even as his cock was stiffening painfully, pressed tight against the spikes in the cock cage.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!!!!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as Hondo stepped up, raised and arm, and with all his strength backhanded Cort across his handsome face. CRACKKKK!!!!! Dez intervened as Ryder lunged at Hondo, and the two struggled as Cort stood stunned in the mighty grip of Dax.

“Well,” Hondo growled, “I see our painslaves are becoming rebellious. Apparently the cock cages do not hurt these young studs quite badly enough.” Hondo slapped Cort’s caged hardon–“Aaahh,” the young captive winced and groaned. “Trust me, you will pay dearly for your outburst, my foolish boy.”

Cort glared back with furious hatred. “And just how will you pay?” Hondo smirked. “Through a dreadful, agonizing torture, of course.” He cruelly paused for dramatic effect. “Applied to your handsome friend. While you watch.”

“NOOOOO!” Cort shouted in horror as Dez dragged Ryder away into the dungeon. Dax followed with a struggling, shouting Cort in his grip.

“For him, the tiger bench!” Hondo shouted, directing Dax what to do with the manically but helplessly struggling Cort. “Make sure he has a perfect view of his sexy young friend on the wheel!” Dax wrestled Cort to the tiger bench, a low long bench set up next to a pillar. Cort was seated on the bench, back against the pillar, and his wrists pulled high overhead and cuffed behind the pillar. His legs were stretched out along the length of the bench, his feet tied together, and his knees roped tightly to the bench. Then the cruel part: his feet were raised and a brick placed under his heels, painfully increasing the pressure on his tied-down knees. Then Dax pulled Cort’s feet up even higher, and a second brick was placed under them. The ropes digging into his legs just above and below his knees were pure agony. His bare dirty feet were totally vulnerable resting atop the bricks. His ripped torso was stretched out, his wrists pulled high above him. And by now his well-endowed cock was fully erect, thrusting up from his crotch, filling the cage and pressing painfully against the tiny spikes that lined the cage…

Cort gasped in pain, but the real torture was seeing what they were doing to his best friend… Ryder was chained with his back against the outer rim of a wheel–his wrists chained to the wheel itself, his ankles spread wide and chained to the stone floor. The wheel was turned slowly, pulling Ryder’s arms up and over–in effect, a torture rack, stretching his nude muscled body until his ankle chains were taut. His legs were spread at a 45-degree angle, and, like Cort, his young cock thrust up from his crotch painfully hard and straining against the spiked confines of the cruel cock cage….

Hondo now was nude himself except for knee-high black leather boots. His own cock did not need any Viagra to grow and stiffen at the sight of his two stretched, chained captives, the sexiest and studliest young muscleheads he had ever kidnapped to his dungeon for torture. Cort he left bound in agony on the tiger bench as he addressed the struggling Ryder. “Oh, my beautiful young friend,” he purred as he ran a fingertip up Ryder’s hard six-pack and across his pecs. “Your look of defiance and anger will soon be changed to screams. You will beg for mercy, as will your handsome lover on your behalf. But know there will be no mercy.”

“Fuck you!” Ryder muttered.

“No… fuck! Please!” Cort begged.

A slight nod from Hondo and Dez turned the wheel–barely half an inch, just enough for the wooden wheel to creak and the ratchet holding it in place to click one notch. But the effect could be seen on Ryder’s grimacing face as the increased stretch shot pain through his body from shackled wrists to shackled ankles. “Now your reckless friend will come to regret attacking my guard,” Hondo said. “Though not as intensely as you will.” Another nod, another click–and Ryder’s body was even more agonizingly racked over the arch of the wheel.

Hondo played erotically and cruelly with his bound captive’s taut torso, stroking the ripples of muscle, paying special attention to his stretched, helpless, hypersensitive nipples–which only made Ryder even harder and the torture of the cock cage even crueler. For his part, Hondo was driven nearly mad by the sight of his beautiful muscled torture victim, writhing and flexing helplessly in his chains, torchlight glinting off his sweating ripped body as he struggled, a grimace of pain etched on his handsome young face.

Dax chuckled softly to himself as he stroked Cort’s nipples, greedily watching the young bondage victim’s reactions: the physical pain of his stiffened cock in its biting cage and the stress torture of his tightly bound legs; the mental anguish of not only seeing his sexy bro/lover writhing in torture, but getting aroused and erect against his will at the sight! The muscle hunk’s cruel fingertips would not let Cort’s vulnerable nips rest as the stimulation caused his cock to grow and harden painfully.

“AAAghhh…” a cry of pain from Ryder as the wheel turned another notch! With the muscle boy’s body stretched painfully, even a tiny increment meant an exponential increase in the agony of his young racked limbs. “No… please…” Cort whispered as he watched his best bud’s sadistic torture, a response which heightened Hondo’s erotic ecstasy, evoked cruel laughter, and inspired the next stage of the torture…

“Dez! Are the needles prepared?”

“Yes, Boss.”

This brief exchange struck fear into the hearts of the chained boys, Cort no less than Ryder. The latter, in involuntary panic, began to struggle and pull against his chains–but stretched taut, the muscleboy could barely move. “No….. NO!” Cort yelled to the accompaniment of Ryder’s rattling chains and heavy breathing as Dez brought forth a small wooden case and opened it.

Hondo picked out a needle, eight inches long and filament-thin, from the three dozen which lay gleaming on the case’s velvet lining and held it up to glisten in the dungeon torchlight. “Tell me, Ryder,” he purred as he contemplated it, “have you ever had your bones scraped?”

“NOOO!!!” Cort shouted as Ryder gasped and thrashed helplessly. “Each needle will delicately pierce and burrow into your muscle. Though highly uncomfortable, that is not where the torture lies,” Hondo said as he showed the writhing, racked lad the implement. “The torture begins when the needle reaches your bone and attacks the nerves. Then you will truly suffer and squirm. Perhaps even scream for mercy.”

Stretched taut and naked on the torture wheel, Ryder’s breaths came in gasps. “Fuck you….”

Cort’s reaction was more frantic as the thrashed in his bondage, sending waves of agony down his tightly, painfully bound legs. “FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD! LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!”

Without another word, Hondo pressed the tip of the needle against Ryder’s right pec and began to drive it in… The racked lad’s boyish face registered the sensation, twisting and grimacing as the needle burrowed through his thick chest muscle… slowly… slowly as Hondo smiled cruelly and savored each moment of his young captive’s torture…. Then… “Aaahhhh…..” a cry of pain from the ripped young man as the needle tip reached a rib and Hondo began to roll the needle between his fingertips, delicately scraping the bone…. “aaahhhh… AAAGHHHH…. no….AAAAGHHHH! FUCK!” Ryder could only thrash his head from side to side in response to the chest torture, so tightly was his body stretched and immobilized…. “AAAAAGHHHH!!! NOOOO!” The loudest scream yet came from a quarter-inch turn of the wheel…

“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU ALL!!!!!!” Cort shouted in impotent rage as he watched his musclebud’s agony. Yet thrashing and struggling only sent pain shooting down his cruelly bound legs….

Another needle in Ryder’s left pec… more writhing, rippling muscle, agonized grimaces, sexy naked suffering from the chained 19-year-old musclestud on the torture wheel…. “Torture him… torture him!!!…” Dez muttered in a sort of erotic trance as he handed each needle to Hondo, who again and again pierced the boy’s chest muscles and burrowed down to his ribs… and all the while the agony of the wheel stretch and the sadistic spiked cock cage made a triple torture for the hellishly suffering young man…

And Cort suffered too under the agonizing stress position of the tiger bench and his own cock cage trapping his youthful megaboner! The moans and screams of Ryder, the curses and begging of Cort, filled the dungeon as the torture continued, Hondo inserting needle after needle into his young prisoner’s chest meat…

Dax was unoccupied, Cort’s tender nips failing to respond any further to his stroking… as the torture of the stretched boy and the agonized protests of his musclebud continued relentlessly, Dax noticed the remaining needles in the velvet case… Cort’s bare trapped feet, ankles roped, struggling, squirming, dirty from the dungeon’s stone floor…

… oh yes… YES…

“Boss?” Dax asked with a cruel smirk. “May I please use one of those needles?”

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

A new “mind control” series featuring Superman from the creative mind of Todd Fleming!
[ratings]

Strange Dealings: The Fall of Superman – Part 1
by Todd Fleming
Series: Strange Dealings: The Fall of Superman

Lights glittered in the elegant ballroom of Metropolis’ Grand Hotel, as guests mingled in the party of the year. The elite of the largest city in the world celebrated the victory of Scot Stevens as the new Mayor of Metropolis. There was no shock from anyone in this victory, even though Mr. Stevens was completely new to politics. After months of attacks from various super villains on the city, the people grew tired of their city being the punching bag of every super powered criminal in the free world. Even the protection of their champion, Superman, did not quell the people’s need for change in how their city was run.

Clark Kent stood in a corner watching the people mingle while adjusting his glasses. This was the last place that he wanted to be tonight, but this assignment was a direct order from his boss, Perry White. He scanned the room looking for his fellow reporter, Lois Lane, and could not find her. No doubt she was charming every person she met while looking for the real story behind Mr. Steven’s victory. Lois was the best investigative reporter not only for the Daily Planet, but any media across the world. Despite her reputation of always getting the story, she used her looks and personality to her advantage against even people who knew her true intentions. It was one of the many reasons he had fallen in love with her.

The reserved reporter would have confessed his feelings to her months ago if not for the fact that she was in love with Superman. He knew that even though Superman and Clark Kent were one and the same, he had to wait until Lois could love him for him and not his incredible powers. Clark slouched against the wall to make himself look smaller as he usually did while he was at work. He got his reputation by writing stories about Superman and getting exclusives that no other reporter have been able to get. The reporter took all the precautions to make sure that his secret was safe. If word of his real identity got out, all of his friends and family would be in grave danger.

Watching the glittering lights bounce across the red satin ribbons and balloon in the ballroom, Clark could not help but notice that music softly played at the same rhythm as the enticing light show. The center of the room was filled with couples dancing and gliding across the dance floor. Tables had been set up in a circle around the dance floor where people chatted with each other and enjoyed drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Clark knew he should be mingling just like Lois, but he felt uneasy being this close to the rich and famous of Metropolis. He had been raised in the tiny town of Smallville, located in the middle of Kansas. With such a humble childhood, the riches and glamour displayed in the party made him uncomfortable.

One of the waiters approached him with a tray of drinks. Clark took a glass and held it while he continued to watch for any trouble. The attacks that plagued Metropolis during the months leading to the election had been fast and furious. Superman had been able to repel each attack, but he had to be ready to launch into action if anything should happen. Just holding his drink and not taking a sip, he watch with his eyes and ears for any sign of trouble.

Lois had to be right that this election was not what it seemed. Scot Stevens had the complete backing of Metropolis’ number one citizen, Lex Luthor. Superman had have several dealings with the corporate tycoon in the past, and he knew for a fact that Lex never did anything without an ulterior motive. Lois also knew the nature of Luthor and she had been on the hunt for the true story of the rich man’s support and why he wanted Stevens elected as Mayor.

Neither Lex or Scot had made their entrance to the party yet, and Clark wanted to be here when they did. Whatever Luthor was up to had to be no good at all. The rich tycoon was possibly the smartest man alive and his plans were always a mystery until it was too late to act. In fact with all the times that Superman had gone up against Luthor, he had never been able to prove that his nemesis was involved. Lex was slippery as an eel and had almost killed the Man of Steel on more than one occasion.

“You look distracted, Mr. Kent,” a deep voice said behind him. “Do these kind of affairs bore you?”

Clark slightly jumped as his thoughts were suddenly interrupted. He had been so intent at watching the party as a whole that he did not pay attention to what was happened directly around him. He turned his head and looked at the man who apparently knew him. The man was a bit shorter than his slouching frame with a shiny bald head and a thin beard on the lower part of his face. Round glasses perched on his nose revealing grey eyes that looked at him intently. Behind the tux that he wore, Clark could tell that the older gentleman worked out from the way his muscles bulged.

“I’m sorry,” Clark said a bit sheepishly. “Do I know you?”

The older man laughed softly and shook his head. “Forgive me bad manners,” His deep voice rumbled. It was a voice that was used to be soothing and comforting. Despite not know who he was, part of Clark felt like he could trust this stranger before him. “I am Professor Hugo Strange,” the older gentleman said with a smile as he extended his hand.

Clark took it and was a little startled by the firm grip and warmth of the hand he gripped in welcome. The reporter put a smile on his face. “It is nice to meet you, Professor Strange.”

“I have been looking forward to meeting you for a long time now,” Strange said with a smile. “Your articles with the Daily Planet are very well written.”

“Thank you,” Clark said with a slight blush. It was rare that someone complimented him on his work. With the shining star of Lois Lane, he was often forgotten in the background. Perry White usually gave her the best assignment and he got whatever scraps that were left behind. Normally he was okay with this as it allowed him to perform heroic acts as Superman.

As they released the handshake, Clark could not help but to feel the warmth of their touching pulse through his hand. The heat seemed to move through the rest of his body making him feel relaxed for the first time in a long time. The dancing lights of the party and the soft music combined with the heat made him let go all the tension that he had been holding in as he expected an attack.

“Do you have time to talk, Mr. Kent?” Professor Strange asked as his deep voice seemed to resound within the relaxed reporter. “Talk at these parties are often boring and I would love to talk with someone new.

Clark was about to politely decline, but then he looked into the soft grey eyes of the Professor and changed his mind. The relaxed feeling that he was experiencing was a welcome sensation and he wanted to hold on to it as long as possible.

They made their way through the crowded ballroom in silence as Clark found it hard to focus on anything but the relaxed aura that seemed to surround his entire body. Hugo Strange led him to one of the balconies outside the ballroom that overlooked the sprawling city of Metropolis. The few people that were on the balcony were just heading back to the party as the two men stepped outside.

Clark felt the cool breeze of the night brush against him as he looked around the city that he championed. Relaxing moments like this was rare and he quietly drank in the beauty of Metropolis. It was moments like that that made his sacrifice as Superman worth it every time.

“How do you feel, Mr. Kent?” Professor Strange asked with a slight smile on his face.

“Great!,” Clark said softly without even thinking. There was something about the professor that made him want to confide all of his worries and troubles to him. He looked at the quiet man next to him in wonder. “Are you always good at making people feel this relaxed?” He asked.

“I am a psychiatrist and I help people with their problems all the time. I supposed that after so many years that I do it without even thinking. I am sure you do the same when you are not on the job when it comes to reporting.”

Clark could not help but to nod in agreement as he smiled at the man he only met moments ago. The breeze continued to caress his face as he adjusted his glasses. “Wait,” He said as he finally recognized the name. “You are THE Hugo Strange, the famous psychiatrist? I heard that you worked wonders with the super criminals at Arkham Asylum. What are you doing in Metropolis?”

Hugo Strange smiled as Clark found himself lost in his eyes. “I have been asked to handle a sensitive case right here in Metropolis. I can not say much more than that since patient confidentiality is a serious thing in my profession.”

Understanding the reason, his new acquaintance could not divulge more information, Clark turned back and watch the nightlife of Metropolis.

“I have only been here in town for a day or so and my reputation allowed me to get an invitation to the Election party. Since you are the most interesting person here, I was wondering if you would like to come to my penthouse after the party to talk. I would like to get to know you better.”

Clark looked back into those soft and understanding grey eyes and realized he knew what it was like to be in a new city without knowing anyone. He felt sympathy for the older man as he nodded in agreement. “I would like that very much.”

Hugo was about to reply when the entire building started to shake. Both men turned back to the ballroom where half the wall exploded sending debris and people flying all over the room. The Professor ran back into the room to see what was going on not even realizing that Clark had vanished.

Superman flew through the window of the ballroom within seconds just in time to see Metallo stepping into the panicked party. The metallic monster laughed as he effortless picked up a table and threw it towards the screaming people.

“I hope I’m not too late for the party!” He shouted with glee as people ran away from him screaming.

The Man of Steel flew to the middle of the dance floor and landed with his hands on his waist in his most heroic pose. The people around him stopped panicking and cheered as their champion came to their rescue. “I’m afraid I am going to have to see your invitation,” Superman said as power emanated from his body.

Dressed in his famous red and blue costume, his massive muscles seemed to flex with no effort of the most powerful hero in the world. Superman stood for truth and justice and had fought and defeated Metallo many times.

The robotic creature laughed as he reached for the metallic plate on his chest. Superman quickly shot a ray of his heat vision to meld the plate to the rest of his foe’s body. Metallo was powered by kryptonite, the one substance that could weaken and kill the otherwise indestructible hero.

Metallo screamed as his only edge against the Man of Steel was taken away from him. Enraged by being denied exposing the hero to his only weakness, he charged in his fury to beat the hero down.

Superman lifted himself up in the air and flew straight into Metallo crashing into him with all the force he could muster as they both flew out of the hotel ballroom into the city streets below. As they flew through the air, the villain rained down his fists trying to weaken the hero who held him with a crushing grip.

Both hero and villain crashed into the street as cars came to a screeching halt to avoid the brawling super beings. People screamed as they rushed to avoid being pulled into the fight while others at a safer distance took out their phones to record or to take picture of the fight.

Superman grunted as he started to feel the blows against his muscles as he countered with blows of his own. Even without the exposure to kryptonite, Metallo could stand toe to toe with him for a time.

“I’m gonna turn you into a pretzel!,” the villain snarled as he landed a punch into the gut of his foe causing him to double over.

Superman grimaced thinking that Metallo was somehow more powerful than usual. He used his super breath to blow the villain back a safer distance so that he could get a small break from the bombarding attacks. He switched from his normal super breath to his icy breath and watched as Metallo crystallized into a block of ice. Once the villain was immobilized, the hero looked around to make sure that all the citizens were at a safe distance.

Within seconds, Superman started to hear the cracking of ice as Metallo started to break from his icy prison. The Man of Steel gathered his strength and flew straight into the villain as he finally got free. He grabbed the villainous monster with one hand and lifted him in the air, then with all of his might he sent an uppercut across the metallic face of his foe. A loud snap filled the area as Metallo’s head flew across the street as Superman held his twitching body of his foe.

The head landed and turned and glared at Superman. “Your days are numbers Stupidman!,” Metallo snarled. “I’m just the distraction!”

The hero dropped the rest of the villain’s body and ignored him as the police drove onto the scene. As the officers placed Metallo under arrest, Superman flew back to the ballroom to make sure that there was nothing there that needed his attention.

That ballroom was in shambles from the brief entrance of Metallo. The guests huddled in small groups and cheered when Superman came back in through the damaged wall. Superman smiled and waved as Scot Stevens and Lex Luthor rushed to greet the triumphant hero.

“Thank you for coming to our rescue, Superman!” Scot Stevens said with his best politician smile plastered on his face. “I look forward to working with you to help make our city safe.”

Superman shook the future Mayor’s hand as cameras snapped their pictures. “I will do everything I can to ensure the safety of Metropolis.”

Lex smiled as he also shook Superman’s hand. The Man of Steel was surprised on how civilized his nemesis was. Even in public, Luthor held contempt at him for being a meddling alien. Superman wondered what Lex was playing at as he smiled for the cameras and reporters. He would investigate this mystery tomorrow. For now Metropolis was safe.

Hugo Strange watched from the background as the three leaders of Metropolis answered the reporters questions. His eyes were mostly on Superman. The hero was worthy of his attention and he looked forward to the challenge before him. ‘I will see you tonight, Mr. Kent. Or should I say Superman?” He said softly as he chuckled.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Slaveboy Micah is given duties to care for the many tortured men in King Nabal’s dungeon while Samson is prepared for his next session with Nabal and a mystery visitor.
[ratings]

Samson Part 4 – Duties in the Dungeon
by SuperHuman
Series: Samson

Micah strained to lift his head. Considering his position, it was no easy feat. He stood naked & bent over with his aching legs spread wide, feet shackled to hooks in the cold stone dungeon floor. His hands were tied behind his back with rough twine and pulled up away from his body by a chain that hung from the ceiling. His plump balls were weighted down by a heavy metal ring that the Dungeon Master had thoroughly enjoyed slowly pushing over each of the boy’s tender testicles with his thick dirty fingers. His cock was still hard despite evidence of a recent load still dripping from it onto the dungeon floor.

He looked across the room to the round naked man who stood in the corner staring deeply back at the boy who’s good looks and submissive demeanor had quickly won him over. He smoked a self-rolled cigarette with one hand while the other continued to stroke that incredibly thick cock that Micah had come to know well in the past few days. Like the boy, the Dungeon Master’s cock was still dripping and Micah knew that the rest of his captor’s massive load was still deep inside his own beaten & stretched asshole.

The Dungeon Master approached him and Micah drew a deep breath fully expecting that once again that wide cock would be shoved down his throat and he’d be forced to breathe in the musky smell of the Dungeon Master’s sweaty balls. But instead he grabbed his captive’s head and pulled his boyish face close to his own weathered & bearded face shoving his tongue into Micah’s mouth.

“Youz beautiful boy!” he said with a wide smile as he reached down and played with the lad’s weighted down balls. “Youz bring me such pleasure in these days. I give youz special privileges.”

He made a circle around his captive gently trailing his hand over the boy’s smooth skin. “Youz have more freedom to move in the dungeon. And youz no longer sleep in chains. I make youz my assistant and youz have daily duties to care for other men.” He cupped Micah’s ass in his hand and Micah groaned as the Dungeon Master inserted an exploratory finger into the boy’s wet hole. “Of course, we still enjoy our sessions together.”

The Dungeon Master released Micah from his bondage allowing him a few minutes to regain the use of all of his muscles and stand up straight then dressed and holding one arm escorted the naked young Micah on a tour of the dungeon.

—————————————-

They entered the doorway of the first cell and Micah trembled at the sight of the nude prisoner bound face up on a wooden table at the center of the dimly-light room. His eyes scanned the man’s naked body starting from his hands which were securely shackled to the head of the table moving down across to his handsome but agonized face. His eyes continued to move over the prisoner’s lean torso covered in a thin pelt of hair that circled his pegged nipples to his large hard cock that was suspended by a chain pointing to the ceiling. Micah studied his well muscled hairy legs down to his bare feet which stuck out over the edge of the table and hung above the only source of light in the room – a basket of burning wood with flames licked the prisoner’s blackened but still clearly sensitive soles.

“The King’s, uh the late King’s, former messenger.” spoke the Dungeon Master as he added more wood to the fire. “Fastest feet in the Kingdom.” The Dungeon Master leaned in close to the whimpering man’s face. “Youz won’t be running anywhere soon!” he said with a chuckle while slowly stroking the prisoner’s cock.

The Dungeon Master instructed Micah on his duties for the prisoner. He was to visit the man twice to a day to stoke the fire, apply the High Priest’s healing ointment to his tortured feet and bath the captive once a week.

————————————

The dungeon tour continued as the duo made their way into the adjacent cell which housed a pair of strikingly identical twins who hung from the ceiling each facing the other like a mirror image with their barefeet just off the ground. The handsome faces of the brown-haired boys with light colored eyes expressed the strain of their unique predicament. Micah admired their youthful but powerful smooth bodies perfectly displayed by the bondage from their well-developed arms & shoulders to their perfectly molded smooth pecs decorated with brown erect nipples and hedged by profusely hairy pits to their round muscular bare-buttocks and hard cocks with large balls that were wound with rope and attached to each others’; head to head, shaft to shaft, balls to balls.

“The sons of Gilan?” asked Micah recognizing them immediately. Unable to resist the temptation, he reached out and gently moved the palm of his hand down one of the twin’s sweat-soaked back starting from his round shoulder and stopping at the curving small of his back.

“Yes, my boy.” replied the Dungeon Master, smiling his approval at the boy’s interest.

“I’ve heard stories of these men. They were King Abimelech’s bravest and most loyal guards.”

“Made the mistake to question the new King’s claim to the throne!” said the Dungeon Master as he swiftly slapped the other twin’s bare ass with a firm open hand provoking the yelping boy to jerk forward and setting off a chain reaction that caused the twins to swing back and forth creating an inescapable friction between them. They moaned as their engorged cocks rubbed together until with a cry they simultaneously came spurting out load after load of their creamy white jizz. Laughing uproariously, the Dungeon Master made a fist around their slick cocks pumping up and down causing the tortured twins to scream out in agony.

——————————

Cell by cell the pair made their way through the dungeon complex and the Dungeon Master gave instructions on how to care for each of the tortured men who represented a who’s who of the late King’s inner circle.

Finally they came upon Samson’s cell which was located at the end of the corridor next to a set stairs that led down to an additional level. They entered his cell to find Samson standing naked in the middle of the room, his hands chained above his head with the thickest of shackles and his massive legs spread shoulder width apart with a heavy metal bar attached at his ankles. The defeated hero’s back was still covered in welts from his session with King Nabal days earlier but his massive cock still stood at attention.

“Ah, the King’s special prize.” said the the Dungeon Master as he made a circle around the chained hero. “Arrived same day as youz, my boy.” He lifted Samson’s down-turned head and looked him in the eye. “Nabal be wanting another session with youz soon, manslave.”

The Dungeon Master gave Micah his instructions for the care of Samson. Everyday he was to visit his cell and apply the High Priest’s healing ointment to any wounds on Samson’s body. He was also to shave any hair that may grow on Samson’s body or head. Micah stared at the defeated hero and couldn’t help but feel the growing of his cock at the thought of touching him.

“Sir, what about the cell downstairs?” asked Micah. “I have seen King Nabal make his way down the stairs and heard the screaming of a man louder than any other man here.”

“Never go down there, boy! Only the King, the High Priest and I go below.”

“Yes s-” Micah attempted to reply but was interrupted by a sweating shirtless Nabal who had just made his way up the stairs from the level below.

“Tartan! What is this boy doing in Samson’s cell?”

“My Lord! Just giving the slave duties in dungeon so I may focus more on torturing the prisoners!”

“Very well.” he replied as he reached out and took hold of Samson’s engorged cock. “Prepare Samson for our next session. We have a special visitor.”

“Yes, my Lord.” replied the Dungeon Master. He turned to Micah. “Youz heard the King, boy! Go and prepare the rack!”

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

This poll is now closed. Congrats to the winning authors and a big thanks to all of our voters.

Winners
Ben Affleck Goes to the Doctor – Part 2 by Nico = 6 Votes
Roommate Revenge by Nico = 6 Votes
Payback for Officer Romano by Rodd Sterling = 6 Votes

Runners Up
Ben Affleck Goes to the Doctor – Part 1 by Nico = 5 Votes
Captain Marvel’s Stolen Powers – Conclusion by Todd Fleming = 4 Votes
The Homophobe – Conclusion by Scott S = 3 Votes
The Gym Lad – Part 4 by Ibtow = 3 Votes
Bravo 7 – Chapter 3: Tables Turn by 2Tops4Slave = 2 Votes
The Homophobe – Part 4 by Scott S = 2 Votes
Posh London Aristocrat Tied, Tickled & Topped – Page 2 by Richard = 2 Votes
The Homophobe – Part 3 by Scott S = 1 Vote
The Homophobe – Part 2 by Scott S = 1 Vote
Posh London Aristocrat Tied, Tickled & Topped – Page 1 by Richard

———————————————————-
Prizes
The authors of the TOP 3 stories will receive their choice of the following prizes:
-$50(US) Visa Gift Card
-$50(US) via Paypal
-3 Month Membership to BoundGods.com
-3 Month Membership to MenonEdge.com
-1 Month Membership to DreamBoyBondage.com
-3 Month Membership to ShotgunVideo.com

Voting Booth Rules
-You may vote for up to 3 different stories. (So you can choose 1 story or 2 or 3).
-Voting is anonymous. You may only vote once and cannot change your vote.
-Authors may vote for their own story if they choose.
-Authors with multiple stories can win multiple prizes.
-I will abstain from voting except in the case of a tie at which point I will make the tie-breaking vote(s).

How to Vote
Simply select the stories that have earned your vote then click on the vote button at the bottom of the choices to cast your vote and view current the results. Note: The “Vote” button is lightly colored but will become more visible when you highlight it. It is at the center of of the page under list of stories.

Remember you may select up to 3 stories.

———————————————————-

The horny doctor’s medical exam gets truly invasive as the desperate movie star is bound & milked of load after load of his specimen.

Ben Affleck Goes to the Doctor – Part 2
by Nico
Series: Ben Affleck Goes […]

When movie star Ben Affleck goes to see a doctor for a problem in the bedroom, the medical examination entails much more than expected. Another HOT cum control fantasy from Nico!

Ben Affleck Goes to the […]

A group of college students who are jealous of their good-looking athletic friend decide to implement some revenge tickling when they discover the jock’s ticklish weakness in this hot tickling story from Lyle […]

A gay college freshmen decides to teach his straight homophobic roommate a lesson that leaves him begging to cum in this hot orgasm denial story by Nico.

Roommate Revenge
by Nico
View this page with a white […]

The tables are turned on one of the abusive experimenters…..

Bravo 7 – Chapter 3: Tables Turn
by Derat
Series: Bravo 7

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Visit Men on Edge for More!
Bearded hottie Jackson Fillmore is bound for some edging of his nice uncut cock.

The brothers are finally released from their unusual prison and allowed to return home forever changed by the experience in the conclusion to Captured Abroad.

Captured Abroad – Conclusion
by Connor […]

When two brothers are arrested on a trip abroad, they endure an invasive bound medical exam and more in a strange prison.

Captured Abroad
by Connor Matthews
Series: Captured Abroad

It was supposed to […]

Nick’s permanent body transformation is completed and he suffers the ultimate humiliation that changes his life forever. Art by Amalaric

The Homophobe – Conclusion
by Scott S
Series: The Homophobe
View this […]

It’s Showtime for the humiliated jock as he is forced to perform on camera then for a party of gay men who insist on audience participation teaching Nick to take it up the ass. His body transformation begins with […]

Captain Marvel’s humiliation is complete when he stripped naked in front of a gathering of his enemies, bound & forced to service each member of the hostile audience much to his own cock’s satisfaction. A very hot conclusion to Todd Fleming’s series!
[ratings]

Captain Marvel’s Stolen Powers – Conclusion
by Todd Fleming
Series: Captain Marvel’s Stolen Powers

It took Captain Marvel several moments to finally get control of himself. He knelt on the floor still feeling the heat of Captain Nazi’s ass on his back as he finally got the tears to stop flowing. His best friend has been deflowered and enslaved in front a room full of criminals and it was all his fault. The crowd cheered as Junior was taken away by Nazi to live his new life of servitude.

The once proud hero could not believe this nightmare that was unfolding before him. His painfully hard cock pressed against his abdomen reminding him the reality of the situation. He had pledged his body and soul to his enemy and now he was paying the price. He could have made the choice to die out in the desert, but his fear and concern for his mentor Shazam made him submit to Dr. Sivana.

The evil Doctor returned to center stage and faced the audience with an evil grin. “As I begin my reign as this world’s ruler, I want you to know that I will never forget all of you who are here today to share in my victory. As a token of my appreciation, I give you this gift. Captain Marvel, front and center!”

The defeated hero struggled back up to his feet and walked awkwardly to stand besides his master. He was painfully aware of his hard and leaking cock trapped in their tight confines. Captain Marvel had been hard for so long that he wondered if his cock would ever be flaccid again.

Captain Marvel gasped as Sivana reached into his tight briefs and pulled out his hard cock. The contact with the cool air of the room caused the once mighty hero to moan as his huge tool was grasped by the tiny hand of his bald master.

After being erect for so long, his erection gave Captain Marvel the ultimate betrayal. A surging in his loins that he never felt before shot through the rest of his body as his rock hard cock began to shoot out the hero’s precious seed. Captain Marvel screamed with ecstasy as his first orgasm tore through him like a bullet out of a gun.

“Oh gods!” Captain Marvel screamed as the most intense pleasure he ever felt overwhelmed his muscular body. He stared in horror as shot after shot of cum continued to shoot from his body and hit the audience before him. The days of having an erection seemed to have built up quite the load and his cock seemed intent on draining him completely dry.

After what seemed like an eternity, his cock gave up the last of his seed. Sivana laughed as Captain Marvel fell on his ass exhausted after such an ordeal. “It seems our poor Captain Marvel is no longer a virgin!” His master snickered towards the crowd as they joined him in laughing.

The evil doctor clapped his hands and his armed guards poured into the room. They covered every entry point to get to the stage as two guards broke formation and set up a table. Two other guards came from backstage and forced Captain Marvel to his feet.

The weakened hero moaned as he still was enveloped in the afterglow of his first orgasm. He had no energy to stand on his feet alone and relied on the guards to hold him up. Despite being drained of so much cum, his cock still pointed straight up at the sky, hard as a rock.

A bondage rack was carried onto the stage as Sivana rubbed his hands with glee. He was going to make sure that if the Big Red Cheese ever escaped from his grasp that he would never be able to fight crime again.

Captain Marvel’s eyes widened as he stared at the bondage rack. What did his master have planned for him now? He thought wildly but could not gather the strength to even struggle.

The guards holding him up led him to the rack where he was forced to lay on his stomach across the rack this his jelly legs standing on the ground. Restraints were placed around his wrists and ankles exposing his muscled ass to the crowd.

“My gift to all of you, is a chance to have fun with Captain Marvel. Talk to my guards at the table to receive a number. When your number is called, please come up to the stage. You will have 15 minutes with this pathetic hero to do with as you please.”

Captain Marvel cried out in shock at the thought of being at the mercy of so many hardened criminals. He pulled on his restraints praying to the gods that he could escape this fate. The two guards who stood at either end of the rack snickered at they watched the weak hero struggle. They secretly hoped that they would have some time to play with the hero as well.

The audience surged to the table to get their number. Many of them pushing and shoving so they can get a crack at the hero before their colleges. Numbers were given out to all the guests and they went back to watch the show that was about to play out.

“Number 1!” The guard at the table barked to the crowd.

Captain Marvel felt the blood drain from his face as he helplessly watched Mister Mind and his enslaved body builder climb onto the stage. Behind him, he could hear his master laugh softly at the horror of this situation.

The mentally mighty worm jumped from his tiny seat and crawled under the heaving chest of Captain Marvel. The hero fliched as he felt the soft skin of the evil worm slithering across his chest. At the same time, the mind enslaved body builder began to massage and spread his ass cheeks.

Before he could protest, Captain Marvel felt a small wet tug on one of his nipples. A soft moan escaped his lips as a new pleasure filled his body. He never had his nipples played with before and it felt almost as good as the pleasure that his erect cock was giving him.

Almost as the same time, he felt something invading his ass as the slave worked his finger in the most sacred of places. Captain Marvel knew that he should be protesting, but this new pleasure felt so good to his sexually inexperienced body. With a surrendering sigh, he gave into his fate and enjoyed the attention to his nipples and ass.

With his eyes almost shut from the bombardment of pleasure, Captain Marvel suddenly screamed as the sucking on his nipple turned into biting and Master Mind’s puppet rammed his hard cock deep into his ass. The shock of adding so much pain to the pleasure that flooded his body was too much for the weakened hero.

The audience cheered as his screams of mixed pleasure and joy filled the room. To see Captain Marvel deflowered like this was a dream none of them thought would even come close to coming true.

The body builder fucked the vanqueshed hero’s ass as he reach down and started to tug on Captain Marvel’s hard cock. What started out as a sweet seduction was turning into a brutal rape as both Mister Mind and his puppet sexually assaulted the one powerful hero.

The combination of pleasure and pain was too much for Sivana’s slave as he felt another surge of pleasure building in his cock. For the second time today, his body betrayed him and spilled his seed in front of the all the criminals in the crowd.

Unfortunately for the fallen hero, it did not stop the fucking or nipple torture that his enemy was inflicting on him. They were going to use him until they were ready to stop and it seemed that the 15 minutes given to them was moving with glacial speed.

Captain Marvel gave up his load two more times before Mister Mind commanded his puppet to cum. With a bestial cry the muscled man pumped his load into the hero’s once virgin ass as the villain clamped down hard on the nipple he was torturing.

The cum assaulting his prostate was too much for the sex slave as his cock surged again and gave up another load of his milky white cum. Even after orgasming three other times in the last 15 minutes, his load was still huge and covered the wooden floor of the stage.

Tears started streaming down the vanquished hero’s pretty face as he felt the wrench of his assailant’s cock taken out of his once tight ass. The puppet walked over and gently placed his master back on his tiny throne and walked triumphantly back into the crowd.

Knowing that this was just the beginning, Captain Marvel began to think that Freddy got the better fate. As the guard called for the criminal holding number 2, he knew that he was completely and utterly ruined.

The assault on Captain Marvel lasted well into the night as each person got their turn to torture and sexually assault the once powerful hero. Some fucked his now worn out ass while others made him suck their cocks and pussies. A few criminals got pleasure from spanking his sore ass until he howled with pain while others ticked his helpless body. The sexual assaults kept coming until finally the last person got their turn to torture the hero.

Dr. Sivana watched the entire time on a throne that was placed towards the back of the stage. He drank in the hero’s ultimate defeat like it was wine and was drunk on the power he no held over what once used to be his most dangerous foe. With the world at his feet, all of his plans were now carried out with no one powerful enough to stop him.

As the last criminal left the stage, Captain Marvel blinked through blurred eyes. His entire body was covered with cum as well as his face as some criminals shot their load wherever they wished. Bruised peeked out from the layers of dry cum as the throbbing pain and pleasure, the Big Red Cheese felt overwhelmed his other senses. His cock still remained rock hard and having given so many loads of his rich sperm that he no longer shot anything out when he orgasmed. His shriveled testicles were so tight against his body that he feared he never would produce any sperm again.

The evil Doctor got up from his seat and walked to the center of the stage. “Thank you for coming tonight to see the end of Captain Marvel. As the New World Order rules this planet, know that there will be a special place for each and everyone one of you in my new administration!”

The crowd cheered as another sob escaped Captain Marvel’s lips. There was no escaping the cruel fate that the gods allowed on him and the rest of the world. He wished he let himself die out there in the desert than having to suffer the ultimate defeat and servitude to his master.

Sivana raised his hands as the crowd finally started to quiet down. “Before we go, there is still one piece of business to take care of.”

Right on que, guards entered the room roughly escorting Black Adam who struggled against his bonds. His black tights were tented with his erection as he suffered the same fate as his enemy Captain Marvel.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, SIVANA!” The evil dictator screamed with fury as the crowd formed a circle around him.

“Your days of power are over Adam,” Sivana cackled as the criminals in the room looked hungrily as the helpless villain. The evil doctor’s laughter was drowned out as the criminals pounced on the once powerful dictator ready to sexually assault him as they did with Captain Marvel all night.

Sivana laughed as he patted the sore and worn out muscled ass of his sex slave. “These are going to be good times!” He declared as Captain Marvel hung his head in shame and defeat.

Dr. Sivana has triumphed and he knew there was no fighting his fate.

The End

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

The aristocrat’s ordeal begins as the story continues….
[ratings]

Posh London Aristocrat Tied, Tickled & Topped – Page 2
By Richard

“Nick” managed to reach out and tweak each of Elliott’s exposed nips. Elliott, though shocked, found the contact unbearably pleasurable, knowing that having his remarkably sensitive nips pinched or simply stroked was enough to make him incredibly aroused, even to ejaculate. This young hustler certainly knew what he was doing, and Elliott found himself gasping with renewed and unexpected lust at the delicate contact. “Nick” continued to flick each of Elliott’s hypersensitive nips a few times before moving downward. Elliott was shocked to realize that his manhood was again swollen solid and obscenely engorged, trapped in the confines of his Armani shorts and impeccably tailored suit pants. “Nick” traced the outline of the aroused patrician’s throbbing cock, touching him only hard enough to tickle but the posh, married aristocrat moaned nonetheless, going “Ohhhh yess, oh my God Yesss!” until in mere moments “Nick” was making Elliott’s whole body tremble, as “Nick” suddenly moved on to tickle and tease Elliott’s swollen scrotum, while keeping the base of his throbbing sex organ trapped between his other fingers through the elegant material of his suit pants and thin cotton underwear. The feel of the miscreant’s talented fingers poking and tickling at the horny, married aristocrat’s heavy balls was an exquisite sensation, one that seemed to siphon the boiling semen up from his still full-to-the-brim balls and into the base just behind “Nick’s” constricting fingers.

Elliott was putty in “Nick’s” hands as the hustler suddenly tongued his way back up Elliott’s exposed chest, widely separating Elliott’s white dress shirt and tonguing each of the aristocrat’s ultra-sensitive nips as a turned-on Elliott openly moaned with renewed lust, Elliott shocked but too out-of-it to care as “Nick” suddenly removed Elliott’s dress shirt and tie altogether, tugging the French-cuffed sleeves with enough force that Elliott was completely divested of his shirt, monogrammed cufflinks and all, whereupon “Nick” suddenly raised both of Elliott’s sun-bronzed arms over his head and proceeded to suddenly plunge his tongue into first one and then the other of Elliott’s exposed, lightly-haired armpits while he continued to flick the aristocrat’s sensitive nips, causing Elliott to mewl with lust at the unexpected contact, as “Nick” munched on his sweat mingled with traces of Elliott’s expensive Bulgari cologne, “Nick’s” educated tongue flicking and tickling the tender flesh of Elliott’s exposed armpits with abandon, causing Elliott to emit a few schoolboy-like giggles at the teasing contact in this intimate and sensitive area of his patrician body.

As Elliott squirmed and mewled with lust with his arms upraised and his eyes shut as he savored the erotic tongue-bath he was receiving, he failed to notice that “Nick” had taken Elliott’s own leather restraint devices, and, as “Nick” slowly backed Elliott up closer to the wall of the drawing room, “Nick” suddenly bound each of Elliott’s wrists into the wrist restraints which were further laced through the bottom of the wrought iron railing of the low “Juliet” balcony from which Elliott had earlier surveyed the room, so that Elliott’s highly polished dress shoes barely touched the gleaming hardwood floor. Elliott found himself suspended half-naked in this fashion whereupon “Nick” proceeded to attach the ankle restraints/spreader bar to each of Elliott’s ankles leaving him completely helpless, his body just far enough out into the room so that “Nick” could easily circle around his bound body, front and back.

“What the fuck!? What are you DOING???? LET ME GO THIS INSTANT, YOU MISCREANT!! THIS IS MY HOUSE!! I GIVE THE ORDERS AROUND HERE! JUST WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?” demanded a fuming, imperious Elliott, struggling in his tight bondage, totally outraged at being double-crossed by this two-bit hustler he had bought and paid for, and suddenly aware he was suspended half-naked in his own drawing room, helpless to prevent “Nick” from doing whatever it was he had in mind.

‘LET ME GO! I’M AN EXTREMELY WEALTHY MAN! I WILL PAY YOU EXTRA! JUST LET ME THE FUCK GO!!!!!” pleaded Elliott, figuring his money could buy him out of anything and that that was all that the low-class hustler wanted.

Elliott was wrong. “Nick” was determined to exact a fitting revenge on his posh tormentor. Taking a cue from Elliott’s own lips, “Nick” decided to test whether or not Elliott himself was the least bit ticklish.

“Hmmm-let’s see- you said you used to get a kick out of tormenting and tickling the ‘bum boys’ you abused at Eton- did they ever get a chance to tickle YOU?” queried “Nick” as he ominously circled the bound, bare-chested aristocrat.

“Certainly not! Don’t be impertinent, you miscreant. Well-bred Englishmen like myself are not the least bit ticklish- little girls and fags may well be, but certainly not men of my class and station in life! What utter rubbish! Now LET ME DOWN this instant- I shall pay another 500 and throw it right in your greedy face- will that DO, eh, my impoverished rent-boy?” shot back Elliott, infuriated.

Ignoring Elliott, “Nick” proceeded to rummage in the backpack he had brought with him (Elliott had forgotten about its existence) extracting two tiny artist’s paintbrushes and approaching Elliott with them circling them around as he approached. Worse, “Nick” further extracted a high-end digital video camera and proceeded to film the half-naked-fuming Elliott. Elliott demanded that the camera be switched off which “Nick” pretended to do but in fact left the machine running to capture all that transpired.

Elliott could only stare bug-eyed as the implements slowly approached his bare chest, “Nick” teasing by circling them quite near Elliott’s hyper-sensitive, lightly-hair-haloed nips without actually making any contact before suddenly dancing them across their sensitive surface causing Elliott to yelp despite himself, only to moan and giggle a bit at the incredibly ticklish sensation as “Nick” again teased his patrician nubbins to full erection, causing Elliott’s manhood to again throb with excitement as well, trapped in his elegant trousers below. When “Nick” then suddenly danced both tiny artist paintbrushes up and down Elliott’s exposed sides and ribs, into his navel and then up to his exposed, dripping armpits, Elliott found himself squealing and giggling and shrieking wildly going “OHHHH MY GAWDDD!!!! NOOOOOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!! ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!! STOPPPPPP! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH! HEEEHEEEEEHAWAHAAAAAA!!! As the aristocrat totally lost his accustomed, bored savoir-faire attitude as he begged and pleaded for mercy, which all fell on deaf ears.

“Nick” kept up the tickle torture for several horrifying minutes, using his own educated fingertips as well as the devilish artist paintbrushes driving Elliott up the wall as the pompous patrician danced and squirmed around in his bonds, giggling like a schoolgirl, as he tried to maintain his sanity in the midst of such undignified squirming and shrieking.

‘OH PLEASE PLEASE STOPPPPP!!! I BEG OF YOU!!!! I SHALL GO OUT OF MY MIND!!!! PUH-LEEEZE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HEEEEHEEEEEEE HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! OH MY GODDDDD!!! THE WINE I DRANK!!! OH NO! IF YOU KEEP THIS UP- I- OH MY! NOOOOOO!! PLEASE STOPPPPP! I NEED TO ER RELIEVE MYSELF!!! NOOOOOO!!! STOPPPP!” pleaded the elegant Elliott suddenly aware of an urgent need to pee after having had so much fine wine. He needed to adjourn to the toilet and soon!

“What? Is the widdle boy about to wet his fancy pants, hmm? Can’t a powerful aristocrat like yourself hold his pee, eh?” taunted “Nick” enjoying this unexpected bit of further humiliation.

“PLEASE REALLY! I NEED THE TOILET- NOW! IF YOU DON’T STOP THIS INFERNAL TORTURE I’LL, I’LL- OH MY GOD PLEASE LET ME GO-HO!” begged Elliott abjectly.

“Nick’s” response was to ratchet up the tickle torture even more, delving the artist brushes and his own fingertips into Elliott’s tender pit flesh, over his nips, sides, and ribs only to press right above Elliott’s elegant alligator belt, close enough to his bladder to make it all the more difficult for Elliott to contain his piss-bloated bladder from erupting pee all over his elegant Savile Row suit pants.

Then it happened. With an abject “OH NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” from Elliott “Nick” laughed out loud as a big wet spot appeared in the crotch of Elliott’s elegant Savile Row suit pants which grew immensely, only to run down both legs of his elegant pants to drip in a pool of piss on the elegant highly polished hardwood floor of the posh drawing room, until Elliott’s bladder was blissfully emptied, but in the most humiliating way imaginable.

“My suit pants! My God those are bespoke Savile Row tailored pants! They’re ruined! Ruined! I’ll kill you for this, I swear” threatened Elliott impotently, as “Nick” continued to laugh uproariously and point at the “aristocrat who flunked potty training”.

“And your piss stinks, too doesn’t it, Mr. Posh?” noted “Nick” to his further humiliation.

Not only did it stink, but Elliott suddenly felt all clammy and wet in his pissed-in pants and ruined Armani shorts. He wanted nothing more than to be freed so he could get out of them (out of sight of “Nick” of course) and shower off the disgusting mess.

“Feeling a bit clammy are we, Mr. Posh?” queried “Nick” “Want to get out of those wet things, do you, eh?”

“ I shall remove them when you free me and I’ve sent you on your fucking way” growled Elliott, abjectly humiliated.

“Nick” donned a pair of black leather gloves taken from his backpack whereupon he suddenly approached Elliott from the rear, and, to Elliott’s horror, “Nick” suddenly proceeded to violently pull the seat of Elliott’s elegant Savile Row suit pants apart causing the seam to split utterly, exposing the soaking wet seat of Elliott’s Armani briefs, only to tear the ruined fabric of the suit pants right down each leg to the tops of his highly polished dress shoes whereupon the ruined pants fell in a smelly heap around Elliott’s bound ankles, Elliott’s modesty now only partially protected by his soaked Armani briefs which had become virtually transparent from being pissed in. “Nick” then ripped the thin cotton underwear off of the gasping, humiliated Elliott, exposing Elliott’s now once-again-flaccid manhood and hanging balls under his neatly trimmed and meticulously groomed pubic bush.

Infuriated at being stripped completely naked and with his patrician body now totally exposed before the low-class hustler Elliott fumed “HOW DARE YOU!!?? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DO-ING???? NOOOO! STOPPPP!!! OH MY GOD! YOU’VE LEFT ME COMPLETELY BARE! IN MY OWN DRAWING ROOM!!THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! LET ME GO THIS INSTANT!” to further cackles from “Nick” who relished stripping his pompous victim totally bareass fucking naked in his own elegant drawing room. Elliott was unaccustomed to baring his body to anyone other than his wife and occasionally to his closest aristocratic associates after sporting events, peopled only by persons of his own esteemed social class.

‘COVER ME UP THIS INSTANT! IT IS UNSEEMLY FOR A GENTLEMAN OF MY STATION TO BE SEEN WITHOUT A STITCH OF CLOTHING ON, PARTICULARLY BY A LOW-LIFE SUCH AS YOU!!!! I’M HANGING HERE COMPLETELY EXPOSED! I WILL NOT HAVE IT! LET ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!” ordered Elliott to no avail.

“Hold on, Mr. Posh. You do stink something awful though don’t you? Wait here- I’ll fetch things to take care of that” stated “Nick” mysteriously.

“LIKE I HAVE A CHOICE?” fumed Elliott. AND FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE BRING ME MY DRESSING GOWN OR SOMETHING TO COVER ME UP AS WELL! I WILL NOT BE LEFT HANGING HERE WITHOUT A STITCH ON!” MY PRIVATE PARTS ARE ON VIEW!

“Nick” managed to find a large porcelain bowl and pitcher and a bar of scented soap in what was called the “powder room” off the entry hall, as well as a loofah sponge and returned with his finds to the drawing room where a fuming Elliott squirmed in his bonds. demanding release.

“What on earth are those? Oh my God you’re not going to, er, bathe me, HERE, in my own drawing room? This is insane!” protested Elliott to a bemused “Nick”.

“Nick” then proceeded to lather up the naked Elliott from head to toe (after removing Elliott’s pissed-soaked and ruined dress shoes and socks and re-binding his ankles in the spreader bar) lathering him with the loofah sponge guided by “Nick’s” leather-gloved hands as Elliott loudly protested, thoroughly lathering his pits, chest, sensitive nips, cock, balls, asscrack, legs and feet, “Nick” managing to masturbate Elliott’s exposed cock as well as he lathered him up, Elliott’s patrician cock again growing to full erection despite his best efforts not to, Elliott protesting loudly throughout, to no avail.

“Nick” then proceeded to rinse Elliott with the large pitcher of icy cold water he had brought with him, as Elliott shrieked comically, briefly losing his erection, as the sudsy water rinsed off him all over the beautiful floor, only to be sopped up by “Nick” with Elliott’s own ruined suit pants and tattered undies which were then placed in the large porcelain bowl for some poor servant to deal with.

“HOW DARE YOU??? THIS IS INSANE! I WILL NOT BE TREATED LIKE SOME CHILD BEING GIVEN A FUCKING SPONGE BATH IN MY OWN DRAWING ROOM! LET ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!!” ordered Elliott, even more abjectly humiliated.

“Nick’s” response was to renew his tickle torture attack. “Nick” dug the fingertips of both hands in halfway up Elliott’s exposed ribcage on either side and initiated a sudden and violent tickle attack. A painful blast of adrenaline flooded Elliott’s entire body like a high voltage electrical charge. Every single muscle contracted in a desperate, involuntary effort to draw himself into a fetal ball and protect his horribly exposed torso, but the bonds held firm, keeping him stretched-out and hopelessly vulnerable under “Nick”’s brutal onslaught.

‘HHAHAHAHAHAHAAH! OH MY GODDD!!! NOT AGAIN!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH!” wailed Elliott as he squirmed mightily in his bonds.

As “Nick”’s fingers continued to lethally prod up and down his ribs on both sides at once, periodically zeroing in on the spaces between them and vibrating his fingertips there without mercy, Elliott’s face became redder and redder in response to the terrible sensations that engulfed him totally. His eyes were wild and he could barely catch his breath between blinding attacks of tortured laughter.

Elliott could only blubber incoherently, gasping and shrieking like a man possessed. His body convulsed pitifully in its unforgiving bonds as the tickling continued unabated, crowding his throat with anguished laughs.

“Nick”’s strong fingers attacked Elliott’s armpits and ribcage with a relentless ferocity. The more Elliott reacted to the torture, the more merciless “Nick” became. Eventually Elliott’s laughter was indistinguishable from his screams, and then the laughter and screams actually became silent in the terrible intensity of the moment.

“Nick” lightly tickled under Elliott’s free-hanging, lightly-haired balls, causing Elliott to moan as his cum-churning nuts ached for release. In response to the tantalizing sensation, the sensitive flesh of the bound aristocrat’s testicles within his studly scrotum drew up tautly and his cock jerked with enflamed need. A drop of glistening precum oozed from the distended tip to drip thickly onto the floor beneath the bound, desperate-to-cum Elliott.

Elliott could feel the red-hot aristocratic semen boiling inside him, churning inside his swollen pedigreed nuts, demanding release through his climax-poised erection, but the necessary tactile sensations just weren’t there. His pulsating penis could only throb wetly in mid-air desperately waiting for the release that “Nick” would deny him. The feeling was well beyond the intensity of any sexual tension Elliott had ever experienced before. His cock ached; it burned with desire, the tickling driving him insane with lust.

“Nick” then suddenly re-positioned the out-if-it Elliott by briefly releasing his wrists from the wrought iron railing of the low “Juliet” balcony, and letting his exhausted body fall to the floor, only to lay Elliott’s head down on the floor by the settee on with his spreader-bar-spread ankles behind him only to re-bind his wrists behind his thighs in the leather wrist restraints, so that Elliott was left bound on his knees with his bare ass embarrassingly totally wide open and exposed and up in the air, his wrists cuffed behind his thighs, with his handsome, startled face and chin now at “Nick’s” own crotch level, Elliott suddenly staring at the crotch of “Nick’s” jeans inches from his handsome face.

“Nick” then proceeded to suddenly lift each of his brawny, leather-gloved working-class hands and suddenly slam them down with great force against each of Elliott’s upturned pale asscheeks which were in total contrast to the rest of his pampered Ibiza-tanned body, causing red-hot hand prints to appear on each exposed asscheek, Elliott yelping with shocked pain as his patrician ass felt like a brush fire had erupted across its satiny surface.

“Nick” also extracted a small leather paddle from his backpack and proceeded to whack Elliott’s posh ass with it as well until Elliott’s tight ass was flaming fire-engine red and burning as Elliott screeched with outrage. Elliott’s traitorous cock, however, got even harder, some never-before-known part of him somehow managing to be turned on by this abuse, to the smug patrician’s total humiliation. “Nick” freely commented on this saying “well Mr. Posh seems to like having his bad-boy-ass spanked- -you’re cock is rock hard Mr. Posh!,” “Nick” rubbing in his victim’s embarrassing arousal to his abject shame. Still, his cock continued to throb with excitement and unfulfilled arousal.
To Elliott’s further abject horror, “Nick” then suddenly whipped his own hard cock and balls out of his tight jeans and shoved his manhood right in Elliott’s shocked face which was at crotch level due to the patrician’s inescapable bondage, “Nick” viciously slapping his hard-on right against Elliott’s smug face and nose and shoving his hairy balls against Elliott’s outraged mouth and lips. More slapping and ear-pulling forced Elliott to open his mouth to scream whereupon “Nick” shoved his hard cock right down Elliott’s shocked never-before-violated throat, forcing him to gurgle and choke on his working class captor’s huge organ, forcing the smug, pampered patrician to suck his dick and lick his balls despite his best efforts to spit the miscreant’s privates out. Only Nick’s threats to knock all of Elliott’s expensively cared for teeth out (something the smug aristocrat was sure the brawny thug was entirely capable of doing) if he so much as grazed him with his teeth, prevented Elliott from biting down on the disgusting appendage or severing it altogether. Plus how would it look if Elliott choked to death on the miscreant’s huge severed penis-to be found that way, naked with another man’s penis lodged in his throat?- the scandal would be beyond even thinking about. No, Elliott had no choice but to carefully suck on the working class thug’s manhood to his captor’s satisfaction and to his abject humiliation.

After several minutes of forced cock sucking and ball licking, “Nick” then flipped Elliott over onto his back leaving Elliott’s head resting on the hardwood floor while still in his inescapable bondage, with Elliott’s legs in the air separated by the spreader bar, and his wrists cuffed behind his thighs. To Elliott’s further horror, “Nick” then proceeded to remove his own jeans and shorts altogether whereupon “Nick” suddenly sat his naked, hairy asscrack right down onto Elliott’s horrified face, and as, Elliott squeaked out his protest, Elliott’s view became entirely blocked by “Nick’s” hairy asscrack as “Nick” proceeded to all but smother Elliott’s face in the crack of his manly ass, “Nick” reaching out and tweaking and pulling on Elliott’s sensitive nips until Elliott was forced to open his mouth in an attempt to breathe, Elliott being forced to tongue-bathe “Nick’s” funky-smelling asscrack and hole (the very hole he had so recently raped to his selfish satisfaction) and tongue-fuck “Nick’s” ass as “Nick” went “Yeah Mr. Posh. Eat out my smelly hole, yeah!! Do It! How does it feel to eat a working-class man’s shithole?” only humiliating the sniveling Elliott all the more.

After several more minutes of forced ass-eating, “Nick” got up off of Elliott’s fuming face whereupon Elliott said ‘THAT WAS TOTALLY DISGUSTING!! HOW DARE YOU SIT ON MY FACE YOU FUCKER! I’LL HAVE YOU UP FOR ASSAULT I WILL! LET ME GO THIS INSTANT!!!”

“Nick “ just laughed at the outraged aristocrat and went back to his backpack where he produced a bright blue buttplug and waved in front of Elliott’s horrified face going “Here suck on this Mr. Posh, unless you want me to shove it up your ass dry like you dry-humped me!”

“WHAT? SUCK THAT DISGUSTING THING!? CERTAINLY NOT! AND LEAVE MY ASS ALONE! I AM A NORMAL, HETEROSEXUAL, MARRIED MAN! NOTHING HAS EVER PENETRATED ME THERE AND NEVER WILL! NOW LET ME GO!! I’LL PAY YOU HANDSOMELY! YOU’VE DONE ENOUGH! LET ME THE FUCK GOOOO!!!” pleaded Elliott, squirming mightily in his tight bondage, looking scared shitless and music to “Nick’s” ears. The smug posh dude wanted to protect his virgin shitter at all costs. Well, let the fucker beg for all the good it would do him!

Instead, “Nick” proceeded to slap the buttplug against Elliott’s outraged face, again yanking on his sensitive nips and pulling his ears until Elliott was forced to open his mouth to scream whereupon the buttplug was deftly inserted into Elliott’s protesting mouth, Elliott’s eyes crossing comically as he gurgled and coughed in response to the unwelcome intruder which had the texture and feel of an actual male organ, again further humiliating the posh aristocrat beyond all imagining. How could this be happening?

When Elliott’s spit now generously coated most of the buttplug, “Nick” playfully teased it through Elliott’s totally exposed lightly haired asscrack tickling his asscrack and the tiny virginal aperture of the aristocrat’s pink little rosebud, rubbing it up and down and deliberately further arousing Elliott’s still-throbbing unfulfilled boner while “Nick” goosed the moaning aristocrat’s virgin asscrack.

“Nick” then proceeded to slowly shove the buttplug up the aristocrat’s tight virgin ass as Elliott howled in protest and begged “Nick” to stop, but Elliott was unable to prevent the plug from easing up his tight ass, “Nick” fucking the outraged Elliott with the buttplug in and out and in and out before shoving it entirely up his tight ass leaving just the blunt end sticking out of his ravaged hole. To Elliott’s further horror the damn thing was goosing his hidden prostate gland within, and this combined with “Nick’s” expert stroking of Elliott’s throbbing prick and tickling the aristocrat’s cum-filled balls caused Elliott’s traitorous prick to approach orgasm as Elliott began to moan with delight despite himself, all commented upon by “Nick” to Elliott’s further abject humiliation.

After several minutes of fun with the buttplug, “Nick” suddenly withdrew it with a loud fart-like sound, Elliott’s outraged face blushing all the more red at his body having betrayed him by letting out a loud, long un-aristocratic common fart right in his own staid drawing room, “Nick” commenting on the foul smell as well.

Then before Elliott could react further, “Nick” suddenly shoved his own rampant prick up Elliott’s semi-lubed ass, fucking him wildly as Elliott screamed bloody murder, only for “Nick” to silence the smug aristocrat by taking the buttplug that had just been extracted from Elliott’s own virgin hole and shoving it into Elliott’s horrified mouth, forcing the posh aristocrat to eat his own shit as Elliott was forced to suck the thing while “Nick” continued to plow his hole, savagely gaining retribution for his own rape by Elliott.

Finally, to Elliott’s complete degradation after several minutes of getting fucked, “Nick’s” talented hand suddenly brought Elliott to a ball-shattering orgasm, as Elliott bit down on the smelly buttplug with a muffled scream as he shot bolt after bolt of his pent-up load right into his own face and eyes, chest and stomach, whereupon “Nick” withdrew and approached Elliott’s face, yanked the buttplug from Elliott’s mouth and then blasted his own huge load into Elliott’s face, hair and eyes.

After the duo could catch their breath, “Nick” easily re-arranged the out-of-it, panting Elliott, again suspending him balls-ass naked from the Juliet balcony.

“Nick” then got dressed and proceeded to leave, first showing Elliott excerpts of all that had in fact been recorded on video, to Elliott’s complete and utter horror. It was only then that Elliott realized that his ordeal was not over, that the miscreant still had him by his privileged, recently-drained balls. Worse, “Nick” actually named a time for the following weekend when he expected Elliott to service HIM yet again, with no end in sight!

“But you can’t leave me hanging here naked all weekend! I can’t be seen like this naked and soaked in semen! I’m totally bare! My clothes are ruined! Oh My God!,” whereupon Elliott burst into sobs of abject humiliation.

“Nick” then agreed to telephone the Spencer-Howe’s old family retainer, their butler, Hudson, finding the number in the Spencer-Howe’s personal phone book as instructed. This still meant that Elliott was found in this state by Hudson, but at least before Cecily and the children returned. Elliott managed to make up some lame story of a “call girl” incident that went wrong, but that it could not be reported for obvious scandalous reasons. Hudson made a few pointed looks at Elliott’s piss-soaked clothes, semen-covered body and face and especially at the discarded buttplug as he freed his employer from his embarrassing bondage, the older gay butler deriving secret satisfaction at finding his smug, younger aristocratic employer’s fit body totally naked and on complete display, the very same autocrat who expected Hudson to perform the most demeaning domestic tasks including scrubbing his toilets.

Elliott realized that he would now have to bribe Hudson as well so as not to let on to Cecily that Elliott had “cheated” with a “call girl” in her absence, but assumed a few hundred quid should buy the old fart’s silence.

Hudson had other ideas, however. He’d never seen his employer unclothed before. It was fun to ponder the possibilities. Hudson easily coaxed Elliott into drawing a hot bath for him while Elliott pointedly waited, covered in his silk dressing gown at long last. It had been embarrassing being seen like that by a mere servant but it had to be. As Elliott gratefully submerged himself into the free-standing sunken marble bath covered by the suds of an expensive bath treatment placed in the water by Hudson, and just as he stretched his arms behind him near the slim marble columns that divided the free-standing tub from the rest of the large master bathroom, he suddenly realized that that idiot Hudson had left his loofah sponge out of reach. ‘HUDSON! GET IN HERE, YOU OLD FOOL! YOU LEFT THE SPONGE ACROSS THE ROOM!” yelled Elliott rather uncharacteristically loud for a smug aristocrat of his station, but Elliott assumed the old fart must be half-deaf at his advanced, decrepit age. In actual fact, however, Hudson was no more than a fit 50, not the “elderly” “old fart” the younger Elliott thought of him as being.

Hudson tottered in (playing up the mistaken “old fart” stereotype) apologetically and handed Elliott the sponge, with Elliott beginning to sponge his arms and shoulders as Hudson began to leave the room, whereupon Elliott, cursing, dropped the sponge behind him, and called for Hudson yet again. As Elliott absent-mindedly thrust his left arm behind him to accept the sponge from Hudson, Elliott was shocked when the old fart, with surprising strength, suddenly wrenched Elliott’s hand behind him and then grabbed his right wrist as well and before Elliott knew what happened Hudson had bound Elliott’s wrists behind him to the marble columns behind the tub with the very bondage gear “Nick” had left behind!

“What the devil!? Are you out of your mind, you old fool!? YOU’RE FUCKING FIRED! LET ME GO!”

No, I shall not let you go until I’m good and ready!” replied Hudson, no longer the meek servant, to Elliott’s shocked ears. “That Nick fellow told me plenty over the phone- call girl my ass more like ‘call boy’! He told me all about the videos he has of the whole thing and will give me a copy! Just think what all your stuck-up twit aristocratic friends would think if they knew/saw what happened- your getting fucked in the ass, sucking cock, etc.?” crowed Hudson.

“Er, uh, well, I was FORCED to do those things! I’m no faggot! Now let me go!!!! demanded Elliott. “I’ll pay you plenty to keep quiet.”

Elliott felt rather ridiculous lying there in his elegant marble tub with his muscular arms cuffed to the marble column behind him, his hairy armpits exposed and part of his lightly-haired upper chest revealed, feeling a slight draft from being out of the warm water. He was at least thankful that the sudsy water covered the rest of his naked body from the gaze of his lowly servant. But then he realized to his horror that Hudson had fiddled with the drain control and the water level was slowly receding, revealing more and more of Elliott’s hunky body as he remained bound and helpless.

Soon Elliott’s entire chest and abdomen were no longer covered by the sudsy water, but thankfully Hudson fiddled with the controls and the water stopped draining just before Elliott’s private parts were shamelessly exposed as well.

However, to Elliott’s horror, Hudson began to tweak and fondle Elliott’s sensitive nips, expertly bringing them to full attention and causing the jaded aristocrat to moan with lust despite himself, forgetting his position as this nobody’s employer. Worse, this unwanted attention was causing Elliott’s cock to fill with blood, becoming aroused at the delicate, sensual contact with his ultra-sensitive nips. Sure enough, his traitorous prick suddenly popped up and out of the tub water like a submarine periscope, embarrassingly revealing his arousal to Hudson’s gaze.

“Stop molesting me in this fashion! I simply WILL not have it! Let me go! What are you, some kind of fag?” demanded Elliott.

“That I am, sir, you fucking idiot! But things are gonna be a lot different around here from now on. Besides a raise and a big bonus, you are gonna be my fuckin BITCH around this house- every chance I get you’re gonna do whatever I say and do it right or else I go straight to your wife and your snobby friends with those tapes and, er, the one I’m making of this little incident as well! So get used to it, BITCH!” crowed Hudson, as he whipped out his enormous, hard cock from his proper butler attire, shoving it into Elliott’s outraged gurgling mouth.

It was going to be a long weekend for Elliott!

THE END

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS PAGE | NEXT PAGE

An arrogant aristocrat thinks he’s in control when he hires and abuses a gay hustler but soon finds himself tied, tickled & topped. Another hot story from Richard!
[ratings]

Posh London Aristocrat Tied, Tickled & Topped – Page 1
By Richard
Art by Fellows

Elliott Spencer-Howe awaited the arrival of his “entertainment” for the evening, sipping a solitary glass of vintage wine from his personal cellars. Elliott admired his reflection in an antique mirror in the hall of his Belgravia mansion as he passed, satisfied that his impeccably-cut, wildly expensive bespoke Savile Row suit fit his 6’ 3” muscular body beautifully, the hours spent in his personal gym coupled with his prowess at charity tennis matches having resulted in his clearly evident gym-toned body. The posh Elliott, at 34, proudly further noted that his recent fortnight in Ibiza with his wife Cecily had bronzed his handsome features and set off his designer-cut blondish hair perfectly, and noted that his white linen pocket handkerchief perfectly set off the cut of his expensive suit. Elliott was most pleased, however, that Cecily and all 3 children (aged 3, 6, and 10) were at her parent’s country estate in Bedfordshire for the weekend, leaving him alone in his Belgravia mansion, free to do as he wished, with the servants having the weekend off as well.

Elliott looked forward to his evening’s “entertainment,” now surveying the mansion’s vast drawing room from the wrought-iron railing of a low “Juliet” balcony off the hall, as he continued to sip his wine, as dark oil portraits of his illustrious forebears further appeared to gaze down on the vast, elegantly appointed room as well.

Elliott had arranged for “entertainment” in the form of a twenty-something “escort,” a darkly handsome purportedly “gay-for-pay” hustler recommended by one of Elliott’s former Etonians. Elliott, who considered himself absolutely “straight” otherwise had to admit that, along with most of his Eton acquaintances, he had developed at a young age a taste for “bum-boys” as the Eton upperclassmen referred to those unfortunates singled out at boarding school to be disciplined by and to service their elder students at their upperclassmen’s whim. Elliott fondly recalled those days and how much pleasure he had derived from sadistically “lording it over” those unfortunates, caning, flogging, tickling and sodomizing the many “bum-boys” at his disposal. Those were the days, and not so long ago, really. Still, it amused Elliott to indulge in a bit of this sort of “fun” since it aroused him immensely and, of course, he could so easily afford it.

“Nick” was right on time. Elliott gestured the blue-jeaned and black-leather-jacketed “Nick” through into the drawing room, following behind him and admiring his masculine 6’ 2’’ frame and the way his jeans admirably clung to his ass below a backpack that probably contained his few meager belongings. The fact that he was aggressively chewing gum and acting like a “cock of the walk” and absently checking for texts on his mobile phone only made the fellow more attractive to Elliott, who would enjoy all the more putting this working class beefcake in his place. The difference in their manner (and manners) could not be more of a contrast. Elliott felt all the more powerful at the contrast in their dress- Elliott in his power-evoking Savile Row bespoke suit and tie and “Nick” in his decidedly working class attire. “Nick” appeared to be of Italian heritage and was probably a builder in some sort of construction trade when he was not making extra cash doing this “gay-for-pay shit,” as he called it. He clearly wore an air of “I could care less and let’s get on with this shit”.

Elliott pointedly opened an elegant chinoiserie box and insouciantly tossed the 500 pounds in cash onto an equally elegant antique side table which “Nick” quickly pocketed, a slight sly smile playing on his handsome face as he continued to aggressively chew his gum. “That should cover what we discussed” noted Elliott.

Setting the tone for the evening, Elliott then suddenly ordered “Nick” to “Strip! Take off everything!” as Elliott settled himself onto a large linen settee as he gazed at “Nick,” savoring yet another sip of wine as he anticipated the show.

“Nick” then slowly proceeded to remove his leather jacket, exposing a white “wife-beater” tank-top tee shirt that clung to his sun-bronzed musculature like a second skin, his erect nips clearly outlined by the form-fitting fabric. “Nick” then slowly removed the tank top, raising it up over his handsome head to reveal the depths of his darkly-haired, slightly sweaty armpits and his hair-flecked muscular chest, before tossing it onto the highly polished surface of the dark mahogany hardwood floor to join his discarded leather jacket. Elliott then imperiously made a slow, circling motion with one hand indicating that “Nick” was to turn around and then slowly turn to reveal his sun-bronzed muscular back and his jean-encased ass for Elliott’s amusement.

Elliott then got up and walked over to where the half-naked “Nick” stood with his hands on his hips, Elliott standing quite close to him, the better to take in his masculine odor mingled with some sort of cheap cologne, before Elliott reached out one patrician hand to make contact with “Nick’s” sun-bronzed flesh with one extended finger just below his left nip, circling it and then slowly down over his suntanned washboard abs before slowly ascending over his ribs and up his side, to then trace one finger over his massive biceps and the veins of his muscular arm. “I like to take inventory of the goods I buy, and you’re bought and paid for this evening…” noted Elliott, relishing the feel of his prize. Elliott then trailed one finger around the back of “Nick’s” bull-like neck and down his sun-bronzed spine, down, down until it reached the top of “Nick’s” belted blue jeans above his tight, jean-encased ass.

“I SAID everything goes…” ordered Elliott imperiously, as he returned to his perch on the settee, awaiting further developments.

Shrugging nonchalantly, “Nick” then proceeded to slowly unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans and unzip them before kicking off his work boots. “Nick” then slowly tugged his jeans down revealing his sun-bronzed, dark-haired legs, now leaving him clad only in his white Calvin Klein boxer shorts.

“Everything…” again urged Elliott, taking one last slug of wine as he did so.

“Nick” proceeded to slowly strip out of his Calvins, revealing an exuberant patch of dark pubic hair followed by his (as promised) well-endowed cock and heavy pendulous balls. Once again an imperious gesture from the pleased, elegantly suited, Elliott caused his “purchase” to slowly turn around, revealing his perfectly formed, flawless bubble butt, starkly white in contrast to the rest of his sun-bronzed body split by a line of dark hair hiding in the crack of his manly ass.

Elliott again rose, approaching his prized piece of meat for further inspection, relishing how this stud now stood there before him completely naked while the elegantly attired Elliott
remained completely and expensively clothed, the imperious Elliott clearly calling the shots and well on the way to the beginning of a satisfying evening at home. Elliott then scooped up all of “Nick’s” discarded clothes and pointedly locked them in the drawer of a side table.

Elliott first placed a blindfold over “Nick’s” cool blue eyes (one of the things previously agreed upon by “Nick’) and then once again delicately traced one finger over “Nick’s” muscular chest and sides, this time deliberately lightly, in an almost tickling fashion, hoping to elicit whether or not “Nick” was the least bit ticklish. “Not ticklish, eh?” noted Elliott, mildly disappointed. “A pity. I used to be known at Eton for my skill at driving underclassmen mad with my ability to torture them with an array of useful items…oh well, we have our other amusements we discussed for tonight..” mused Elliott. Elliott then proceeded to slowly trace one finger down “Nick’s” suntanned spine down, down to the top of his bared bubble butt, Elliott raising one hand and suddenly swatting one cheek of “Nick’s” bare ass, leaving a reddening handprint mark on it before doing the same to his other asscheek. Elliott then savored the feel of each of “Nick’s” firm, burning asscheeks before delicately tracing a finger down the crack of his ass, spreading his cheeks and goosing him there in anticipation of “coming attractions”.

Elliott then strode over to the front of the settee, standing at his full height with his legs imperiously spread and elegantly enveloped in his impeccably tailored trousers, whereupon he next ordered “Nick” to “Get on your knees! Crawl over her on all fours and take care of business!”

Elliott looked on, savoring the sight of the now totally nude stud crawling naked and blindfolded over to where Elliott stood in full command. Elliott ordered “Nick” to “get on with it -you know what I want you to do…” whereupon the blindfolded “Nick” using the “Braille” method, found the crotch of Elliott’s elegantly tailored suit pants and found the buckle of his alligator belt, unbuckled it and unclasped the waistband of Elliott’s elegant suit pants, then suddenly expertly tugged both Elliott’s elegant suit pants and his Giorgio Armani briefs all the way down to his calves in one fall swoop, suddenly denuding Elliott from the waist down, “Nick” being rewarded for his efforts by Elliott’s suddenly freed cock slapping him square in the face.

Elliott was somewhat taken aback at being so suddenly and rather unexpectedly partially denuded in the stately environment of his own drawing room (having expected “Nick” to merely “unzip” him and give him head) but since “Nick” was fully blindfolded he could not see Elliott’s rather embarrassing partial nudity. Elliott had to admit it felt rather good, a bit “naughtier” even adding even more “spice” to the scene, as he felt a draft of cool air on his own naughtily bared backside, the posh patrician openly admiring the view in the large antique mirror in the distance, taking in the alabaster whiteness of his privileged and shapely rear-end, whose pristine whiteness was in total contrast to the rest of his Ibiza-tanned body, while he further admired the reflection of the lightly-haired musculature of his own widespread muscular legs as his “entertainment” for the evening continued to suck his tumescent cock and slavishly lick his elegant “John’s” hanging aristocratic balls as “Nick” continued to service him with his educated tongue, as “Nick” continued to kneel submissively on the gleaming hardwood floor before his swaggering “employer”.

“That’s right- suck my big fucking cock and hairy balls, you fuckin’ working class asshole!” ordered Elliott as he shamelessly thrust his hips to drive his cunt-rammer down the hustler’s throat, alternately withdrawing his manhood from “Nick’s” mouth to slap his hard dick against the hustler’s blindfolded face before re-inserting it for further servicing.

Elliott then spun around and thrust his bare backside into “Nick’s” blindfolded face, ordering him to “Kiss my ass, asshole! And then fucking lick my fucking crack, you low-life!” as “Nick” did as instructed, Elliott relishing the feel of the working class dude’s tongue as it expertly licked his lightly-haired crack, circling and then licking the smug patrician’s tight little virginal hole, “Nick” secretly jazzed to hear his posh employer eagerly masturbating his high-class cock, and emitting tiny moans of lust as “Nick” continued to vigorously rim the married aristocrat’s tight little hole, as Elliott eagerly thrust his bare backside back onto the hustler’s tongue, urging him on.

After several minutes of rimming, a thoroughly aroused Elliott spun around and said “And now for the highlight of the evening- remember you agreed to this as part of the ‘package’” as Elliott proceeded to produce leather restraints around “Nick’s” wrists which were placed behind “Nick’s” back while spreader-bar leather ankle cuffs were affixed to each of his ankles.

The blindfolded and bound “Nick” was then unceremoniously shoved face-first onto the seat of the settee, with his bare bubble-butted ass high in the air. Elliott proceeded to spank the hustler’s upturned ass with his own leather belt until it was bright red and burning before forcefully shoving his condomed cock right up “Nick’s” ass without the aid of lubrication, effectively raping the miscreant who grunted at the pain. Elliott didn’t give a shit about the hustler’s protests; he was too intent on getting his rocks off, and he thrust away mightily totally turned on as this rape took him back to Eton days, Elliott pumping away wildly, sweating up a storm to the point where he loosened his silk tie and unbuttoned his own white designer shirt to reveal his lightly-haired, sun-bronzed chest as he fucked the daylights out of his “bought and paid for” hustler.

Elliott was somewhat disappointed that this was triggering an intense orgasm rather sooner than he had intended, as he growled with lust, withdrew his pistoning cock with a “plop” from Nick’s butt, only to quickly snap off his condom and fire bolt after bolt of his steaming patrician cum right into “Nick’s” blindfolded face, covering the hustler in his cum which dripped off of ”Nick’s” hair, nose, and chin in gooey ropes.

As Elliott slowly recovered from his intense orgasm, he managed to pull up his Armani briefs and impeccable Savile Row trousers, leaving his heaving chest somewhat on view as he re-donned his designer shirt but left it open, as he was still sweating slightly from his exertions.

Elliott now looked upon “Nick” as a piece of used garbage, and would be only too happy to see him gone. A nice glass of tawny Port would be a welcome nightcap as soon as he got rid of the miscreant.

Elliott retrieved “Nick’s” clothes from the locked drawer, removed his blindfold at last and removed the leather restraints for use on the next hustler the wealthy aristocrat would hire when the urge returned.

“Now get the fuck out of here!” ordered Elliott dismissively.

“Nick” was thoroughly pissed off. While he had agreed to be tied up and yes fucked, he had NOT agreed to being fucking raped! The asshole hadn’t even used any lube! And he was such a stuck-up fucking asshole to boot!

“Nick” made as if to go, pulling on his boxer briefs and jeans, but then approached Elliott and said “Aww, but you paid me so much- I want to make sure you get your money’s worth- and everything you deserve!”

“What are you talking about? I’m through with you, I said- now GO!” demanded Elliott.

“Ahh, I don’t think you mean that, stud! I think you’re ready for ‘round two’!”

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS PAGE | NEXT PAGE