GayBondageFiction

DC is tied down to a bed by his abusive bud Nick who pulls out electric clippers and proceeds to shave his hairy chest and stomach. Then Nick strokes and sucks DC’s cock forcing a cum shot out of the now hairless dude. Running Time: 15 Minutes

25 yo tattooed bisexual dude DC is bound to a stool. Nick shaves his hairy ass then proceeds to put the poor dude through an intense spanking and paddling. Running Time: 10 Minutes

Hairy bi-dude DC is bound in a couple of positions by his older master who sucks and strokes his captive cock causing DC to shoot a load that reaches his face. Running Time: 7 Minutes

Mark is a HOT straight tattooed stud Mark who submits to abuse at the hands of gay muscular Riddick. The poor boy is bound and blindfolded and endures a good shaving, tickling & his first gay oral action. The look on his face as he gets his first taste of cock is priceless. We really pushed this straight dude to his limit. Running Time: 27 Minutes

Cute Corey is a young gay twink type who loves to be dominated. He is bound and receives a good flogging, suck, and happy ending. Running Time: 11 minutes

Another hairy muscle boy finds himself in tight bondage in this clip from Men on Edge! Nick Capra is bound is several different positions that offer easy access to his nice cock for an hour of cock teasing and cum control.

Hunter’s sexual training continues and he forced to perform in another public show this time featuring naked oil wrestling.
(You must be logged in to rate this story.)

Captured Abroad – Part 4
by Connor […]

 A drunken rowdy “Mighty Bear” is abducted by two admirers who subject the hairy dude to multiple bound tickling sessions.
[ratings] (You must be logged in to rate this story.)

Bear Season
by David

Randy Ballard stormed into the establishment cursing and stomped his way up to the bar.

Randy was a powerfully built man who looked like football had been his sport in school. In fact, his nickname in high school had been “The Mighty Bear”. His bearded face was surmounted by a tousled crown of dark brown hair, and the general impression he gave was one of slate-eyed violence. It was clear that he had already been drinking, but he ordered more potent potables and drank until he was ready to fight someone. As I sat not too far from the bar, I couldn’t help staring at his feet. I knew that they were at least a size fourteen even without the workboots they were currently shod in.

And I was wondering how ticklish those big feet were as Darnel King and I sat over beers at our tiny shadow-shrouded table. Me and Darnel were as good at logging as any men in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom (better than most even) but neither he nor I had ever been accepted at the camp–me because the word had gotten around that I liked guys, and Darnel for another reason. In simple ways, the other loggers froze us out: we weren’t included in the poker games or picked on by anyone to be a partner on a team . . . things like that. I bitched a lot about it, but Darnel always stayed quiet, though I could see the rage seething behind his dark eyes.

And Darnel, of course, was the most obvious target for Randy to focus his drunken anger on. And after he got stoked enough, he went right to work–shoving the alienated logger in his chest and demanding that they do battle.

Darnel looked rather hurt (but not really surprised) by the larger man’s disposition. He even tried to walk away. But Randy took him by the arm and bluntly wheeled him around–telling the alienated logger that he simply wouldn’t be allowed to leave the area until the two of them came to blows. Many of the mighty bear’s friends stood behind Randy to give teeth to the irate man’s edict.

So Darnel merely marched out to the lot behind the bar, stepped back a bit and put up his fists.

Randy bared his teeth and rushed at the alienated logger. He tried to use both of his meaty hands to shove Darnel in the chest again, but the alienated logger deftly caught his wrists and turned them outward with all his might. Randy screeched. Tears poured from his gray eyes and his big, pale hands were flopping about like dead fish because both of his wrists were now broken.

And while he was so was distracted by his useless hands, Darnel hauled back and plowed the mighty bear’s jaw.

The onlooking rabble gazed at their humiliated companion in wonder. Randy collapsed boneless to the ground, gray eyes rolled up and with his hands still flopping.

For a moment the onlookers backed away, and Randy lay motionless. I myself was wondering if the mighty bear was dead. Darnel, however, was clearly trying to figure out a way to guard himself against retaliation–to keep these hateful men from taking him on like a mob tomorrow or the day after. He realized that, if he didn’t end all future fights right then and there, things were only going to get worse for him. He already didn’t fit into the Northeast Kingdom, and now that he flattened a popular local . . . .

This being the case, I didn’t blame Darnel for what he did next. Didn’t blame him one bit when he viciously the kicked the big man who lay helplessly before him. Randy moaned and rolled away from his attacker. Darnel walked around him and kicked him again, in the crotch and then again in the ribs. Randy was in so much pain that he couldn’t make a peep: he only doubled up into a fetal position as tears streamed out of his scrunched-closed eyes.

Darnel kicked Randy in the head, and the irate man passed out. I stared at Randy’s feet–wanting desperately to rip the workboots and socks off his big feet and take a gander at his bare doggies.

Darnel looked around at the onlookers coldly. Everything that needed to be said was written in his dark eyes then. He was letting everyone know that if they even dreamed about ganging up on him, they could expect an even worse beating than the one which felled the mighty bear. I wondered why they didn’t all just rush him right then? Did they see what I saw right then–a man who was fully capable of murdering an entire mob? I dunno.

Anyway, once all the fearful onlookers began to flee the scene, Darnel looked as if he might vomit–as if his own actions had revolted him. “Y’all know I only meant to keep his punk ass from hurtin’ me.”

“No you didn’t!” Jethro Cunningham, one of Randy’s compatriots, accused. “I saw you plotting your moves before you and Randy started fighting. You contorted his wrists with all your might on purpose . . . you meant to hurt him that bad!”

And Darnel lowered his head–silently admitting to everyone that Jethro’s words were true. The alienated logger may not have wanted to fight, but the injuries he’d administered during the battle had been deliberate. He felt good about putting Randy down, and yet he felt bad about how good it had felt to beat the irate bear senseless. It took me five minutes to convince him that what he’d done SHOULD have felt good . . . that maybe he had done what it took to convince Randy to stop being an ass.

And because Jethro had fled the scene (disgusted and too drunk to recall the fact that he had left his buddy behind) Darnel and I decided to take the unconscious Randy home.

To MY home. You see, besides being outcasts in the logging camp, Darnel and I had something else in common.

One guess at what it was!

Anyway, when we reached my house, Darnel and I carried Randy into the living room and dumped him on a chaise lounge. Darnel then moved Randy’s wrists behind the lounge and bound them to it, and then bound the unconscious man’s legs to it as well. And after removing the mighty bear’s humid workboots and sweaty socks, the two of us simply sat and waited for our sleeping bruised and battered captive to regain consciousness.

With me holding Randy down in case he should awaken, Darnel wrapped the rope around the man’s wrists, tying them together. He then wrapped more around the mighty bear’s ankles and finally tied a large knot that Randy would be completely unable reach with his bound meaty hands. I myself tightened all of the knots. While I blindfolded our knocked out big-footed boy, Darnel retrieved a pair of string shoelaces, and used one to tie the toes on Randy’s left size fourteen foot together, then used the other to do the same to his right foot.

Finally, the mighty bear began to awaken

Randy immediately began to struggle against his ropes, trying to wrench his hands out from the cords that bound his hands tightly together, and trying to move his feet. All this was in vain, of course. In fact the ropes seemed actually to TIGHTEN. He wasn’t even able to get the blindfold off no matter how cleverly he tried to move his shoulders to do so. Eventually the mighty bear reached the point where he attempted to scream through the gag, but only a muffled “mmmpphh!” could penetrate it. I took the gag off after a while.

Randy’s laughter was incredible as Darnel and I began to tickle away at the sensitive skin on his big smelly, meaty soles.

“Hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heee!!!!! Hahahahahohohohoheheheheha ha ha ha!!!” The laughter seemed to just go on and on and on and on. His laughter and screams were so loud that we had to re-gag the mighty bear. And once that was done, the tickling Darnel and I were giving his big, pale feet continued. We fingered the sensitive arches of his size fourteen doggies, and tormented his toes. Despite the shoestrings, Randy’s manly toes tried their best to wriggle all about, but only gained very limited movement.

Darnel and I were enjoying ourselves immensely as we raked our hands over Randy’s twitching and flexing bare soles. We poked and prodded at every inch of each foot, and each poke created a response from the once mighty bear that included more muffled screaming, and more movement of his feet. Randy moved his feet around and his bound toes tried gamely to twitch and wiggle as he struggled to escape the torment. Eventually Darnel missed the sound of the mighty bear’s unrestrained laughter, so we took the gag off once again.

“Hee-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hahahahahaha-hehehehehehe!!!!” shrieked Randy as Darnel and I wreaked havoc on his vibrating, bound feet. “Heheheheheheheheheheheheheha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!! Please!!!!-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee- heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!!”

Once he fainted from our torment, Darnel and I had fun by tying the mighty bear to the hood of the alienated logger’s Ford Explorer and speeding along the reasonably traveled back-roads–laughing and waving at gawking motorists.

After we had our fun with him, Darnel and I dumped Randy Ballard’s naked unconscious body off in the lot behind the bar.

And there were times when–as we carried Randy to the lot–that the mighty bear seemed to cease breathing completely, and there were anxious moments when my own breath came laboriously. Randy Ballard was a hateful man, but did he deserve to die for being that way? Well, yes, he probably did . . . but I didn’t want his death to be at MY hands. I’m not sure what Darnel felt at this time. However, I was sure that he had dealt with guys like Randy all his life. Perhaps he was of the “one less hater” mindset and wouldn’t have cared at all if the mighty bear died. I dunno.

As far as that FIRST fight that Randy lost to Darnel . . . well, when I retold what happened to some relatives I had in Texas, I found myself confronted by folks who doubted that the onlooking rabble who had witnessed the fight would simply stand and watch while someone like Darnel beat one of their own senseless. Well, I had to inform these people that several of Randy’s “friends” had their own personal animosities as much as Darnel did (I found this out days after the fight however) and felt the mighty bear needed to be taken down a notch.

Well, anyway, Darnel and I dumped the unconscious Randy behind the bar.

Randy Ballard eventually recovered and went back to logging, but he was never quite the same after his experience with Darnel and me. Perhaps it wasn’t the beating that did him harm, but the feeling that here in the Northeast Kingdom–where he had been such a big shot and local hero–he had become nothing but a demeaned joke. He had lost his heart and the fire went out of him. When others shied away from choosing him as his logging partner he continued working at the camp, but the old Randy was gone.

But even though he was humbled, Darnel and I wouldn’t let up with him. Hey, why show mercy to the guy who had shown us none? Why show compassion to the lout who’d called us both the most vile, inflammatory names and urged others to do so as well?

So we decided to make him our plaything again.

Randy was alone and staggering to his motel from the bar weeks later, and Darnel and I pulled up beside him in the Ford Explorer. Gleaning his attention, we leaped out and pounced upon the once mighty bear. Randy tried to fight us off, but Darnel knocked him cold with an uppercut to the point of his chin, and then we loaded his unconscious frame into the vehicle and drove back to my place. Then, tingling with anxiousness, we dumped our captive on the mattress in my bedroom and relieved him of his malodorous workboots and socks.

Immediately our fingers scraped up and down his exceedingly sensitive bare soles, then we used a hairbrush to attack the undersides of his toes. Randy desperately wriggled his toes and tried to refract his feet, but we had bound them too securely. Darnel and I alternated between using a feather and a hairbrush and our own fingers. We inserted the brush’s bristles between the mighty bear’s manly bare toes . . . and used the brush to graze over each toe individually. Randy’s screams made our ears ring, but they were a joy to hear for both me and Darnel.

“Hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heeee heee!!!!! Hahahahahohohohoheheheheha ha ha ha!!!” Randy shrieked.

“Daaaaaaaaaaamn!” Darnel said, staring down at our captive. “This big- footed-loud-ass-screamin’-punk-mutha-fucka is even more ticklish than the last time!”

The mighty bear’s face, chest, armpits and crotch were sweaty. And, surprisingly, his cock was engorged and throbbing in his trousers. So much so that this must have been causing him considerable discomfort as well. Darnel and I put the feathers and brush aside and attacked Randy’s size fourteen feet with our fingers again. We moved our fingers in circles around his soles, then in zigzag patterns. The mighty bear screamed . . . and his cock throbbed and pulsated. There was clearly fire in his loins, and this fire grew hotter with each stroke of the hairbrush and each scrape of our fingers against the bottoms of his feet.

“Hee-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hahahahahaha-hehehehehehe!!!!” shrieked Randy as Darnel and I attacked his bound feet with more vigor than ever before. “Please!!!!-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!! Heheheheheheheheheheheheheha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!! Please!!!!-hee-hee- hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heese heee heese heese heese heese N-ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ha ha he he! N-No more!!!”

“Daaaaaaaaaamn!” Darnel said, clamping a hand to his ear to protect it from Randy’s high-decibel screaming laughter.

Darnel then retrieved the hairbrush once again and began to scrape it between Randy’s toes, then all over his feet–from his slightly rough heels, up his soles, down through his rather high arches and across the balls of his feet. Then he and I both began the whole torture process all over again. Randy arched his back, screamed and ejaculated in his pants at the very moment Darnel used the bristles of the hairbrush to sketch an intensely hypersensitive path from the sole to the heel on the mighty bear’s right foot . . . while I, simultaneously, plunged my hot, wet tongue into our captive’s ear.

After rendering the mighty bear unconscious with a velvet cloth soaked with ether, we loaded him into the Ford.

We moved quickly. Darnel drove to a basically uninhabited area known as a ‘gore’. Then he and I dragged the mighty bear’s unconscious body to the edge of this gore and rolled him into the dense undergrowth. Then we re-started the Ford Explorer and drove away.

I can hardly wait for next season.

David

Hairy muscle god Tatum greatly in this week’s update from 30 Minutes of Torment. Gut punches, flogging, the electric zapper and some creative fucking make this a sizzling hot video!

A military private is the subject of an experimental test run of a new tickle torture device that puts its victim through an intense full body tickling and cum denial session while a sadistic doctor observes the results.
[ratings] (You must be logged in to rate this story.)

The IHID Machine
by Jasper Zilch

At the IHID machine:

“Take off your shoes,” Dr. Wilson instructed. “My superiors will skin me if they see mud all over their expensive machine.” As Andy complied, he added, “You might as well take off your socks as well. If you have to spend three hours in this thing, you might as well feel comfortable.”

Andy grinned. “Shirt and shorts as well? Then I would be really comfortable.”

Dr. Wilson smiled. “Ah…no. The IHID capsule is air conditioned, and moreover made of metal. It could get really cold in there. Lie down here please, Private Andy. Just align your body to the outline on the table.”

“Whatever you say, doctor,” Andy replied amiably. He climbed onto the table. The IHID capsule looked like the high tech hospital machine where patients lay on a similar looking ‘bed’ and were slid into a tube-like machine to have their X-rays taken. This’ bed’ however was totally made of metal, and had an outline of a human body drawn on it. Andy arranged himself onto the outline.

Dr. Wilson pressed a button on the outside of the capsule, and the whole table with Andy on it slid into the body of the machine.

“Don’t move,” Dr. Wilson instructed. He pressed another button. Metal cuffs emerged from the table surface and locked around Andy’s neck, elbows, forearms, waist, thighs, legs and ankles.

“Are you comfortable?” Dr. Wilson asked, “Check if you can move.”

“Not an inch,” Andy confirmed after a moment’s attempt.

“Nothing to worry about, Andy,” Dr. Wilson reassured him. “Feel for a small box under your right hand? There’s a button in it. Anytime you want to abort the program, just open the box and click on it. Press it now if you want to test it.”

There was a soft click, and a monitor in front of Andy’s face lit up.

“Program aborted,” a feminine computer voice declared.

“It works, Doc,” Andy said.

“Good. The objective of the program requires that you have to be isolated for the next three hours, so you won’t be able to talk to me, and I won’t be able to talk to you. The only control of the IHID machine is through your button. If you don’t press it, it will run till the program is completed. Sergeant Wilks briefed you what happens after that, right?”

Andy nodded as much as he could with his neck fixed. “I am to fill in a report of what happened during the program.”

“Okay then, I will see you in three hours. Good luck.” The door to the capsule closed with an click.

————————————————————————

The IHID control room:

“Everything went okay?” Sergeant Wilks asked after Dr. Wilson hurried into the room.

“See for yourself.” The doctor typed a command on his keyboard, and his monitor showed Andy strapped to the table, looking around nervously. “There are several video cameras – all hidden, of course – where we can observe his progress. I’m starting the program now.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule:

The internal of the capsule was brightly lit, and as cold as Doc Wilson promised. So far nothing was happening, apart from the computer monitor hanging above him blinking the words “Program Ready” over and over. Andy didn’t know what would happen. All his sergeant could tell him was that the research division for intelligence needed volunteers for an experiment involving interrogation. Anyone who signed up and stayed for the entire three hours of the program would get three whole days of leave. For the soldiers in his unit who been through two weeks of POW training, this seemed like a great deal, especially since Wilks was able to reassure them that the program was less arduous than the two weeks they had suffered through. Of the soldiers who had volunteered, he was the first to undergo the program.

“Program initiated,” The computer voice said, and suddenly, the capsule started rumbling gently with vibrations. The sterile white light vanished and was replaced by a dim red. Andy could hear the gears winding. Something was happening, and he looked around frantically for it.

The monitor showed numbers counting down from a minute.

Something small and pointed touch each sole of his feet. Finding their target, they proceeded to explore the skin of his soles.

Andy never thought himself as particularly ticklish, but he could not help clenching his toes and reflexively trying to pull his feet in as the probes relentlessly crawled all over his soles. He tried to keep his mind off what was happening to his feet and focused on the monitor. One minute passed, and he was relieved when the probes retracted themselves into the capsule wall and the computer informed him he had two minutes to rest.

————————————————————————

The IHID control room:

“Wow,” Sergeant Wills stared at the monitor. It showed a pair of feet, presumably Private Andy’s, being attacked by a pair of thin sticks protruding from a small box in the wall of the capsule. “That’s your great interrogation program?” he scoffed.

Dr. Wilson replied, “Don’t judge so soon, Wilks. The program haven’t even been running for a minute yet, and look at your man.” He clicked a button, switching to another monitor.

Andy was obviously in some discomfort, trying hard to pull his legs, or at least move his ankles out of reach of the things that were tickling him, but strapped down as he was, he had nowhere to hide.

“The machine will run for a minute, then two, then four, then eight, up to sixteen minutes with two minute’s rest in between. A total of,” he flipped through a sheaf of papers, “Forty-one minutes.”

“You expect to break a man with forty-one minutes of tickling?” Wilks retorted disbelievingly.

“Don’t underestimate the program. The computer is designed to detect spots on Andy’s soles which are the most sensitive, and adjust itself to hit those spots more frequently as the time limit becomes longer. And remember,” he added with a smile, “The program is three hours long, not a mere forty-one minutes.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: Start of sixteen minute-long Sole Tickling

He lost control somewhere during the four-minute long session and couldn’t stop laughing from then. Since then, the two minute rest intervals seemed frustratingly short while the eight minute tickle session lasted forever.

The probes were getting more sadistic, tickling his soles without a discernible pattern, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, tracing every kind of pattern across his sensitive sole skin. He could feel a hardon coming on for some unknown reason, and was glad that no one could see it.

Only a minute of the sixteen had passed! Fifteen more to go, surely he could get through this. Andy, between convulsive chortling, checked the timer again. He blinked. The timer had stopped running and was fixed at 14.56, but the tickling went on with a vengeance.

————————————————————————

The IHID control room:

Doctor Wilson chuckled. “The timer stopped.”

“What?” Sergeant Wilks got to his feet, concerned.

“It’s alright, just part of the program,” Wilson explained. “It has a psychological effect to make the time seem longer. Look, Andy seems to be enjoying himself.”

Andy was laughing uncontrollably, trying hard to jerk his arms and legs free from the restrains. Despite the cold (the monitor displayed a temperature of 18 degrees Celsius), his PT shirt was stained with sweat and more sweat was rolling off his forehead.

“Is he okay?” Wilks asked.

“His heart rate is high but that’s to be expected,” Wilson replied.

“Everything looks fine to me.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (7 minutes into the 16 minute session)

Andy longed to press the abort button. In fact, he opened the plastic casing over it several times, half-daring himself to press it. But he didn’t. If his friends heard that he succumbed to tickling, they would never let him forget it.

The computer must be spoiled, he thought. Surely it has been sixteen minutes by now.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (8th minute of 16)

“Hey Wilks, watch this,” Wilson said and clicked his mouse.

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (8 minutes into the 16 minute session)

The probes suddenly stopped. Andy closed his eyes in relief, panting heavily. It was over.

After a second of peaceful quiet, the probes cheerfully whirred to life again.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (8th minute of 16)

“You are a sadistic bastard, Wilson,” Wilks scolded, laughing at the comical expression of sheer dismay on his soldier’s face when the machine started running again.

“Just part of the program, Sergeant. Uh oh, is he going to press it?”

Wilson asked, seeing Andy flip open the plastic casing again. Andy did not. “That was close. It would be quite the embarrassment if one of your men gave up so early,” he said wryly.

“He won’t,” Wilks replied confidently.

“Really?” Wilson asked, “Let’s see how he handles the next big disappointment.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (14 minutes of 16)

The monitor flickered and caught his eye. The countdown was running again, from where it had stopped at 14.56. 14.55…14.54…..14.53…Andy started to swear.

IHID capsule 16 minutes of 16

In mid giggle, sharply, the red light switched off and cold white light replaced it. Simultaneously, the foot probes retracted and the calm computer voice declared a five minute rest period. Andy relaxed. It was really over this time.

The monitor started to count down from 5 minutes.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (4th minute of 5 minute break)

The computer started beeping.

Dr. Wilson started pushing keys, concentrating intently on his monitor.

“What’s going on, Wilson?” Wilks leaned forward to look. The capsule was flooded in red light again. A metal claw had descended from the roof of the capsule, and Andy was staring at it nervously.

“Have to do things manually here. We haven’t a safe automated way of doing this yet.” Wilson squinted at the monitor, which began to zoom in.

“This? What’s ‘this’?” Wilks demanded.

The claw lowered itself until it rested on the metal cuff around Andy’s neck. It opened its jaws to bite on the front part of the collar of the shirt, and with a buzzing sound, proceeded to cut the shirt open from collar to waist.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Wilson said as he guided the claw. “The part that is doing the cutting is never in direct contact with his skin. Okay, now for the sleeves.” The claw moved unerringly to cut the left sleeve from the edge at the arm to the collar, then worked on the right. Andy was yelling at the claw, but he didn’t dare to move for fear of being cut.

“All right, I’m done. Lowering the capsule temperature now.” The claw bit down on each segment of the shredded shirt and yanked it away. “You did bring a spare change of clothes for him like I told you, did you?”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (4th minute of the 5 minute break)

Andy shivered. The machine had chop his shirt into three pieces, yanked them from his torso and dropped them beside him. It only took forty-five seconds. He had fifteen seconds of amnesty left.

Monitor: 5…4….3…2…1. Rest period concluded. Phase II of IHID commencing.

A box-like part above his chest lowered from the roof of his capsule.

Disbelievingly, he saw four probes emerge from it to rest lightly on his abdomen. Each of the four had a flat, circular end, and from the flat surface of each end whirred a number of smaller probes that rotated around each other.

At his feet, he felt the probes returning to caress his soles.

Monitor: 1.00….0.59….0.58

With perfect synchrony, they started to twirl.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (1st minute of Phase II)

“Wow, look at that,” Wilks whistled as he saw Andy yelling and laughing as the six probes tickled him. He could see the muscles in the soldier’s abdomen contracting spasmodically, the muscles in his arms and neck becoming apparent as he strained and squirm.

“A true isometric workout,” Wilson replied grinning,

“He’s turning red in the face.” Wilks commented.

Wilson stared at the readings on his monitor. “Heart rate still in the safe range. Nothing to worry about.”

“How long this time?” Wilks asked.

“Same as just now,” he replied, “Only that his monitor will turn off the countdown earlier, after this session in fact.”

“He won’t be able to tell how long he has for -” Wilks paused to calculate.

“Forty minutes,” Wilson supplied.

“Oh boy,” Wilks shook his head in sympathy. “Is it me or is there music playing in the background?” He could hear faint symphony music coming through the speakers interspersed with the sounds of Andy yelling and laughing.

“That’s my idea. A short piece of classical music played over and over, while the probes dance to it. It’s going to drive him nuts.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (Beginning of the 8 minute-long full body tickling)

Andy couldn’t believe it. Two more flat ended probes were coming out of the devil’s box. The new comers paid exclusive attention to his upper chest and nipples, while four managed his abdominal area, and the two original pointed tip probes still danced on his soles. His dick was so hard that it hurt, constrained by his briefs, and his nipples were erecting.

(End of 8 minute long full body tickling: Rest interval)

Computer voice: “8 minutes IHID complete. Rest interval.” The capsule flooded with white light again.

He couldn’t believe that he lived through it. Even though the probes had withdrawn, his muscles still twitched spasmodically in the cold air though nothing had touched them.

Computer voice: “Fifteen seconds rest interval beginning now.”

Fifteen seconds! The monitor had ceased to countdown an eternity ago, so he couldn’t check to see if there was a mistake. Anxiously he counted to fifteen. Nothing.

Another five seconds later. Still nothing but that confounded music.

The light of the capsule changed to red. Swearing, Andy steeled himself as he watched the probes descend to molest his unprotected body. His arms were moving! Helplessly, he felt the table move under his restrained arms, bringing them away from his body – Exposing his armpits! Two tiny probes with the flat ends emerged from the table between his arms and his torso.

Computer voice: “Beginning sixteen minutes IHID now.”

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (After 5 minutes REST, Beginning Phase III)

“What happens now?” Wilks asked, watching Andy groan as his sweat drenched body twitched.

“Hang on,” Wilson replied. He typed in a command, and the metal claw dropped from the ceiling. With the precision shown when removing Andy’s shirt, the claw, controlled by Wilson, tore off his shorts. Wilks could hear Andy repeating “shit…shit…shit…shit” through the speaker. The claw then snag the edge of his white briefs, and pulled downwards, exposing his scrotum and penis. His dick was as straight as a spear.

Wilson typed another command. A translucent tube with a metal cylindrical dropped from the ceiling of the capsule over Andy’s pelvic area. Guided by remote, the metal cylinder fitted snugly over Andy’s penis, covering it completely from sight.

“Good God, what is that?” Wilks gaped.

“Here,” Wilson took something from a drawer and tossed it to Wilks, “It’s the same as that black metal thing there.”

Wilks peered into it. There were a few short bristle-like things on the interior surface, and a whole colony of longer ones at one end.

Whatever it was, it was starting its work, for Andy suddenly started straining harder than ever and making gasping sounds.

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (Phase III)

“No…stop it,” Andy gasped. The metal tube was brushing the shaft of his penis lightly and the tip more heavily with some things that made his dick even harder than it was. Worse, the tube was sucking him. He was going to ejaculate, he knew it, in this wretched container. The brushing sped up and just as he was a about to come, he felt a sharp painful jolt in his phallus. His dick lost some of its turgidity instantly.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (Phase III)

“That metal thing is stimulating him to ejaculate,” Wilson explained, “And the computer is monitoring him so that the moment he is about to ejaculate, the metal thing will emit a sharp electric shock…Get the picture?”

“Ow,” Wilks nodded.

“This is the part A of the last phase,” Wilson continued. “He is to be denied ejaculation for forty five minutes, though he doesn’t know that. Let’s see if he can hold out for that long.”

IHID control room: (PHASE III A – first 15 minutes)

The expression on Andy’s face was that of complete need and frustration.

Wilks could see his muscles straining to tear away from his bonds and obtain what was denied to him. Andy’s right hand was clenched into a fist, refusing even to touch the button cap.

“Bet you he won’t last the next fifteen minutes,” Wilson chuckled.

“Oh, what’s gonna happen next?” Wilks asked, not taking his eyes off the struggling soldier.

“Wait and see.” Fifteen minutes later, the machine at Andy’s soles which was quiet so far in Phase III rumbled into life. Andy started screaming and laughing as the machine tickled his soles with devilish skill.

“Hmm,” Wilson studied the monitor readouts, “He has tried to ejaculate and was denied something like once every minute. The rate will go up now, I dare say.”

————————————————————————

IHID capsule: (Phase III A – Last 15 minutes)

Dammit, he mentally sobbed when the machine electric shocked him again.

He had to cum. Let me cum dammit! Do anything you want to me later….Droplets of precum was being sucked up the tube but they gave him no relief.

To his horror, the probes from the metal box above his chest, and those from the table next to his armpits whirled into life again. Together they relentlessly tickled him into a state of unceasing laughing convulsions.

————————————————————————

IHID control room: (Phase III B)

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wilson said aloud when the timer reached forty-five minutes. “Time to give your stud the thing he desires most in the world.” The computer whirred, and suddenly, Wilks saw a white fluid stream up through the tube. “There he goes.”

“That’s it?” Wilks asked, “The probes are still tickling him.” Despite Andy’s continued convulsive straining, Wilks could see a look of infinite relief on his face.

“Yeah, so they will continue,” Wilson replied, distractedly studying the monitor.

“I don’t understand.” Another white gush of semen was sucked up the tube.

“We are in phase IIIB now. The machine will keep making Andy ejaculate till the whole three hours is up, which is another thirty minutes.” Andy ejaculated again. “Hmm…that’s unusually fast. Better power down a little.” Wilson started typing.

Ten minutes later.

Andy was yelling “No no no no…” amidst his laughter.

Another white jet. Wilks could see him sobbing in pain now.

The computer suddenly emitted a long beep. “Ah finally,” Wilson smiled, “He aborted the program. Time he lasted – Two hours and forty-three minutes. You trained him well, Wilks. That’s quite a good time.”

“Thanks. Can I bring him back now?” Wilks asked.

“Yeah, send him round sometime tomorrow afternoon for his interview. So, do you still think the IHID is a piece of expensive junk?” Wilson asked slyly.

“It’s seems effective, but I can’t say for sure.”

“Well, after we finish with this batch of volunteers, you could give it a try. Not this program though, you already seen it. I will modify it, make it something different, unique for you.”

Wilks hesitated, then nodded.

“All right, if we have the time, Wilson.” He left to pick up his exhausted man.

————————————————————————

IHID = Induced Hypersensitivity Interrogation Device

Jasper Zilch

The author ties up the hunky 18 yo captain of his boarding school’s rugby team and subjects him to a tickle torture session to get even with him for making him clean up the tv room.
(You must be logged in to rate […]

Danny earns a final spanking from gay Coach Davis.
(You must be logged in to rate this story.)!–more–

Danny and Coach Davis Part 3 – Hotel Spanking
by Anonymous

Coach Davis was bent over at the […]

Watch All of This Week’s Videos at our Video Tube
Huge muscle boy Big Max is abducted, taken to his captor’s workshop and slowly stripped in bondage in the week’s “Clip of the Week” from Buff & Bound! Check out all of this week’s contenders at our Video Tube.

A horny guy participates in a kinky fight club at his hot neighbor’s home in the latest story from TXBound.
[ratings](You must be logged in to rate this story.)

Hi Neighbor!
by TXBound
Series: Hi Neighbor

I moved into a nice neighborhood a couple of years ago. Great location but the homes have large lots, except for mine, but all are heavily lanscaped. I met Rick and his wife a couple of months after I moved into the house. They seemed to be a nice couple. She was evidently the worker in the relationship and had a big corporate position. Their home was large and with lots of trees. I couldn’t see their backyard but assumed it was large with a pool since I saw a pool service come by quite often.

Rick looked like a California Beach Boy except he was in his 30’s. From looking at him he spends a lot of time at the gym and pool or on his boat that is parked in the driveway sometimes. Dark, golden smooth tan with blond short but curly hair. His wife was just the opposite she was lite skinned with dark hair but beautiful. Sort of a Barbie/Ken couple.

As summer came Rick would be out in his yard more and I was always out working. I’m in pretty good shape myself and enjoy working outside in the yard and in the backyard at my pool. Every time that I see Rick he says hello and we talk some. I see him a couple of times outside in his swim suit and he really is a good looking guy. Great body with big pec’s, biceps and legs all lightly covered in blond curly hair that has been trimmed. He looks like a male model that you would see modeling swimsuits.

On Saturday I have seen Rick out in the front yard and we talked. It was hot so we both just had on workout shorts and tennis shoes. I had finished working on the yard and told him I thought I would go for a swim after I finished. I get everything cleaned up and go to the pool. Since I live alone, I strip down and jump in the cool pool. There is something about getting in the pool naked that just makes my dick hard. I start playing with myself and have a great hard on in a few minutes. I move to the shallow end of the pool and start jerking off and reach around and stick a finger up my ass to make it more intense. I get to the point of exploding cum everywhere and I hear someone clear their voice. I turn to see Rick standing there as I shoot my load into the pool. Rick laughs and asks if he can borrow my blower since it looks like I have already blown. I am a little confused and he adds that he would like to borrow my leaf blower. I don’t know what to do and he just stands there while I stand in knee deep water with my dick in one hand and my other hand fingering my ass. He then adds, “nice show – hot body!”

He doesn’t move, I slowly release my self and get down into the water. I tell him the blower is in the garage. He laughs and tells me thanks but the garage door is closed. I have to get out of the water and he hands me a towel and we go get the blower. As he leaves he tells me that maybe we can go swimming some time. I am thinking this guy is hot but he is married.

Several weeks go by and I am out working one Saturday. I have my ladder out and am up at the top of it trying to clean out gutters. As usual I just have on a loose pair of workout shorts that are loose and about mid thigh. I like to go commando when I wear them and never wear a shirt so I can get some sun. I can see into Rick’s yard and he is out there as well he only has shorts on as well and he is down in a squatting down and his dick is hanging out of his shorts and almost touching the ground. Wow this guy is hot. His skin is glistening from his sweat. I get so absorbed in trying to be cool that I almost fall. The next thing I know Rick is over telling me that he will help hold the ladder for me. I try to concentrate on my gutters but can see him looking up at me from the bottom and looking up my shorts. He clearly has an unobstructed view since I am commando. All os a sudden the ladder shifts and I start to fall back. I feel a hand go up the back of my shorts and to my ass as I am falling. Rick’s hand finds its way easily to my ass cheek and two fingers quickly enter my ass hole and he just holds me there. I had been out the night before and had partied so my ass had been loosened up. He looks up and smiles and tells me that I am lucky that he was there. I smile and tell him that I sure was. I can feel his fingers moving and rubbing my prostrate. After what seemed like quite a while his hand retreats from my ass. And I slowly get off the ladder. As I get down from the ladder I can tell that his dick is hard the way it is poking at the cotton shorts. He looks at me and notices that I had scratched my pec, right across my nipple.

Rick reaches up and puts his hand on my chest and flicks at my nipple which stings some. My dick then comes alive and he notices. Rick insists that I go over to his house because he has a first aid kit and he will disinfect the cut. I try to get out of it because my dick is now poking against the cotton shorts as well but he insists. We get to his house and he has me sit on a stool in the kitchen while he gets the first aid kit. When he returns he puts some alcohol on a cotton ball and wipes my chest. I cringe some because it stings. He then tells me that the antiseptic that he will use may sting some more so he starts rubbing it on my pec and nipple with his hand. His other hand finds its way to my thigh/groin area. Since my shorts had ridden up when I sat down, my dick was exposed and his hand was clearly grazing my dick and balls. He continues with the treatment and my dick is hard by now.

When he finishes he asks if I would like a beer and I say yes. He sits across from me and starts a conversation. His dick is still hard and he raises one leg up on the stool so that it hangs out and is in clear view. Wow, this guy is so hot that I can hardly control myself. He just seems to enjoy teasing me without doing anything. It is almost like foreplay but this is definitely the longest foreplay I have ever seen. As the conversation continues he tells me that Peggy, his wife, will be out of town for a couple of weeks. That sounds like an invitation to me but I keep my cool. He then tells me that he is going to have some guys over that night to watch the matches and wants to know if I want to come over. I didn’t know what matches and was embarrassed to ask so I just said sure. He gives me the details and tells me that the pool will be open and I can just wear a speedo if I like. I tell him that I don’t own a speedo and he tells me that he has suits for guests, or I can just go like I do in my pool – naked. That was somewhat embarrassing and exciting at the same time.

That night I look out my front door and see some really nice cars parking. Evidently Rick hangs with some high rollers. Some actually arrive in speedos and flip flops while other at least have t-shirts and shorts on. I arrive after several guests have already arrived. His pool was on a large wooded lot with lots of privacy. Everyone was on a patio that had tv’s larger than the one I had in my house. The matches turned out to be wrestling matches. They guys seemed to enjoy their matches and knew every wrestler and his moves. There were about 10 guys at the party and all were good looking and in shape with beautiful tans. As the night wore on and more drinks were had, the physical activity increased. A couple of times a few of the guys would start wrestling on the patio and get each other in headlocks or arm holds. Rick would tell them to wait until later. He introduced me to all of his friends and told them that he had walked in on me while I was swimming naked and beating off with a finger up my ass. They all laughed and said that is the only way to swim. With that most of them stripped and jumped into the pool. Not to be singled out I did the same. At 10 o-clock I hear some noise and a bunch of practically naked women all tall with heels and very short shorts. Evidently this is a common event because they all seem to know the guys and hug and kiss each one and grab some of the guys dicks and they laugh. Rick then introduces me and they look me over and one by one come over and hug me and one by one they either grab my ass or my dick and whisper in my ear that they want some time with me. I am gay but these girls are a real turn on but something was odd, Rick tells them to get set up. I don’t know what that means but I am about to find out.

They start bring in equipment and take some guys to another rooms and they tell the rest of us to sit down. They then start giving us manicures and pedicures which I certainly wasn’t use to. Of course all of the guys are naked so the girls run their hands up our legs while massaging our feet and the girl that was doing my pedicure leans over and kisses the head of my dick which brings it go life and they all start laughing and telling me that the one eyed snake is looking for a hole to crawl into. The foot massage feels great and they are really rubbing my legs thigh and forearms which keeps me hard. The other guys are still yelling at the wrestling matches on TV while having their pedicures/manicures and in some cases getting their dicks sucked.

Rick comes out from somewhere and he looks different and is brushing off his chest. His dick is hard and sticking out as one of the girls comes over and immediately starts licking his balls and dick. He looks over at me and tells me when I am finished to go into the bedroom for a shave and trim. Not sure what to expect I finish and get up and walk in and there is a guy standing with his legs spread and a girl is running clippers over his body giving him a body trim. There is another guy laying back and lathered up in two critical spots his face and his balls. The girl is slowly shaving him and gently caressing his swollen dick while gliding the razor over his balls. I get up there and the girls tells me to stand on the table. She starts using the trimmers on my legs, chest, arms, underarms and finally my ass. All the while she is running the clippers over my body she gently caresses me. Her raspy voice tells me to bend over so she can trim my ass crack. She then tells the other girl that she will need to shave my ass.

She takes me over to the girl with the razor who just whispers to me in a deep quiet voice to lay down and spread my legs. I had never had any shave me before and this was very erotic. I have to admit the shaving of my balls almost made me cum. She then tells me to lay on my stomach and she starts shaving my ass hole to my balls very slowly. She also gently starts playing with my ass which makes me moan. She leans over and almost lays on me and kisses my neck. I swear I could feel a bulge.

When we are finished I go back to the pool area and some of the guys are wrestling in the pool and the girls are yelling for their favorite cock. Rick then announces that it is time for the matches. All the guys are naked and we all head to the garage where a wrestling ring has been set up on the floor. Evidently these guys get their kicks by wrestling in the nude. Rick then has everyone draw a number to find out who their first match will be with. I catch Rick and tell him that I’m not sure about this because I have never really wrestled. He assures me that it will all be fun. The rules state that there will be a winner’s bracket and losers bracket. The winners take all. I wasn’t sure what that meant but he told me it would be fun.

We are to wrestle odd’s vs even. My number is 1 and I see Rick smiling, he is number two. The girls then pass around shots with 200mg of viagra. Evidently the objective is to make sure we are hard while fighting. I get into the ring and the bell rings I try to stay out of his reach and the girls and guys are all yelling. Rick grabs my legs and pulls them out from under me and I fall fact down on the mat. I feel him on top of me with his cock sliding into my crack. Everyone is laughing, drinking and yelling. Rick is strong and those pecs and biceps are bulging now as he flips me over and pins my shoulders and kisses me hard and forces my mouth open to accept his tongue down into my throat. On a count of three he is declared the winner. He moves to the winners round I move to the losers. The matches continue. Some last longer and some guys enjoy grabbing my balls and dick to leverage themselves. All of them try to pin me and stick their dicks in my mouth and ass but never penetrate. While I continue to loose Rick continues to win. He is quite good and hardly breaks a sweat but that body looks good glistening in the pale light in the garage.

The final match is over. I am the loser and Rick is the winner. He comes over to me and reminds me that winners take all. His attitude has changed now and he is aggressive and tells me to get on my knees when I don’t he tries to force me down but I resist. Four guys are immediately there and I am overpowered and forced to my knees and I am forced to start sucking his cock. He grabs my ears and holds my head while he fucking my face. He then pushes me over and throws my legs over my head and starts fucking my freshly shaved ass. I can feel him cuming in my ass and as he finishes the other guys take turns while the girls all watch and yell. When the guys finish Rick tells the guys that there are cigars and sex in the pool and they all start to leave. He then yells back, girls, he is all yours. Suddenly the girls are all around me and my hands and head are restrained. A mouth spreader is inserted and I suddenly realized why, these were not girls at all . I suddenly am forced across a table where my ass and mouth are available for assault. The girls are coming at me from all angles and they want their prize. You would expect them to have small dicks but some of these are the biggest dicks I have ever seen. I am then laid on a table where a extremely tight cock ring is put on my raging hard on by now. The girls take turns fucking themselves on my hard dick. I want to cum so bad but the ring is so tight it cuts into my skin and I can’t cum. After they finish they put me into a sling that Rick has put up and they all take turns shooting their loads repeatedly in my open ass. My head is lowered so I can eat out their asses. They then hang me from the ceiling and starting flogging my ass. Believe these are no ladies the way they were flogging me. My ass was blood red and stinging as they started fucking me again and Rick comes in to take the last winner fuck.

I think I am about finished when Rick announces that it is time for the girls to fix me a drink. They carry me outside to the lawn where I am tied down on the ground with stakes. A funnel with a hose is put into my mouth and attached to a pole. The girls come first and start taking turns pissing on me and and jacking off into the funnel that is taped into my mouth. I start gagging and one of the girls grabs my balls and tells me to swallow. Then all the guys come over and start pissing all over me and jacking off into the funnel. Rick finally comes over and drops something into the funnel and then pisses in it and on my face and chest. He tells me to swallow. He must have been holding it for hours. He then picks up my legs and starts fucking me again I feel his huge cock throbbing in my ass and I feel him explode in me again. I start getting dizzy and the last this I remember is Rick saying “he has a sweet ass, I’ll have to get more of that.

I woke up the next day in my own bed. I start thinking that I must have dreamed everything the night before I have a terrible headache and taste in my mouth but I am clean and freshly showered. I look under the covers and as usual I am naked because I normally sleep that way. One things is different there is a ring of red lipstick around my shaved cock and balls and my ass is sore. When I finally get up and get the paper on the driveway, Rick is already out. He smiles and says “Hi Neighbor” and pulls out his dick for me to see. I see his wife driving up their driveway and get out of the car. She waves to me and he gives her a big hug, kiss and squeeze on the ass. As they walk into the house I see him turn his head to me and smile and lick his lips.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

TXBound

A young black man is drugged and abducted in Part 1 of Blackjack’s first story submission.
[ratings](You must be logged in to rate this story.)

Corey’s Night Out – Part 1
by Blackjack

Corey lay asleep naked on his side on the bed, Mostyn laid next him. The sun peaked through a crack in the curtain. It made a yellow spot on Corey’s naked pale brown thigh. “Ah,” Mostyn groaned as he stretched his arms above his head, “Oh!” he gasped as he looked down and saw Corey’s naked body next to him. “OH,” he thought “I’ve never had a black boy before.” He stared at the size of Corey’s ass and thigh. He urged to touch and fondle Corey’s nakedness he itched to reach out and let his hand flow over the contours of Corey’s body. “No I can’t he whispered to himself “this boy must be willing he must be awake first.”

Corey groaned and resettled himself on the bed. He lifted one eye lid as he realised that someone was touching him. Was this just a dream? “Where am I?” he thought His tiredness took over and he fell asleep.

Mostyn lay back with his hands behind his head. He quickly became excited again as he lay there watching his dick get hard at the thought of the black boy lying next to him. His thoughts drifted to the night before.

The ball room was dark with just a set of lights on low. The MC was introducing guests as they arrived. “Mr Corey Chambers and Miss Bella Smythe,” he announced in a loud voice. Bella’s arm was wrapped around Corey’s fore arm he escorted her to the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked her.

“OH a Soda would be fine,” Bella replied. Corey disappeared into dark of the corner of the ball room his purple suit did not help under the faded lighting. He returned to the table with two cups of drink. Music began to play and people shuffled and danced on the dance floor under swirling multi-coloured lights.

“Dance?” Corey asked holding out his hand.

“Sure why not,” Bella replied.

No sooner had they got to the dance floor than the MC made an announcement. “Mr Walter and Mrs Smythe,” Bella continued dancing with Corey, but they soon rudely interrupted.

“What are doing girl?” Walter shrieked as he grabbed Bella by the arm.

“But daddy, daddy,” Bella protested as Walter dragged her from the dance floor.

“Sir!” Corey said moving towards Walter. He was stopped by Walter’s hand reaching out and pushing Corey in the throat.

“My little girl isn’t going to be with any of you people,” Walter said angrily.

Corey stood in the middle of the dance floor holding his throat all he could do was shrug his shoulders.
Walter and Martha walked Bella out of the ball room leaving a stunned Corey stood there with the crowd of guests gawking at him. Corey felt ashamed he looked down at the floor ad turned to walk back to his table. He sat down but he felt he could hear someone whispering to him. Corey was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You coming to Craig Thompson’s house?” a voice asked him.

“Ah,” Corey gasped as looked up to see who was asking the question. A tall lanky teenage boy called Noel Stephens stood at Corey’s shoulder.

“Come on Corey come over here and have some punch?” Stephens pleaded. “You deserve better than that,” Stephens said.

Corey got up and walked with Stephens to a table where there were three boys, they stood around a bowl whispering. They were trying to conceal what they doing. On seeing the boy’s huddled around the punch bowl Stephens urged Corey with the words “Be careful what you drink,” Stephens whispered in Corey’s ear.

“Huh,” Corey said.

“Just be wary of what they offer you,” Stephens reiterated.

“Here dude have a drink,” one of the boys said handing Corey a paper cup with a red liquid in it. Corey took it and had a sip. “No man you gotta drink it up,” the small kid on the other side of table said. Corey glared at the boy and took the cup and drank deeply from it. No sooner had he finished than his head began to spin, he had an awful feeling in his stomach. “Have some more,” heard the small boy say as another cup was placed in his hand. Man after what you been through you must feel like shit,” a boy said. “Drink up then we’ll go to Craig’s party,” someone said as they slapped Corey on the back.

Corey was helped to the car his gait was as wobbly as his was inside his head. Come on a voice boomed. Corey felt arms helping him out of the car. He was helped into Craig’s house and onto a seat. “Wait here I’ll get us some pop,” a voice urged Corey looked around and could only find one familiar face in the crowd.

The music touched Corey’s ears it was rhythmic seductive music. Corey’s head felt like it was still spinning. There was an urge with in Corey he began to sway in time with the music. He felt like he was being seduced by the sound. He jumped up on a table and began to gyrate his hips and pelvis something came over him and began slowly taking off his clothes. His waved the blazer over his head and let it go it seemed to fly through the air. The crowd was whooping and egging Corey on. Next his shirt came off then he put his hands on the hips of his trousers. The belt came off then the zip opened up, revealing a large lump it was pushing out the duck egg blue underwear. The maroon trousers slipped down to Corey’s ankles, he wobbled as he bent down and took one foot at a time out of the leg holes. He wiggled his hips and his ass as he threw the trousers to the cheering audience. He breathed a deep sigh and fell backwards. Everything was spinning before his eyes but he managed to get up and slip out of his bikini brief underpants. His torso writhed swayed and his ass wiggling all the time. As his hips gyrated as his dick wobbled. His head felt fuzzy and he leaned back. He fell and fell until he landed in the arms of two young men.

“Come on kid let’s get in the sack,” one of the young men said. They lowered Corey to his feet but he swayed uneasily on his feet. One boy grasped Corey’s arm and the other placed a hand on the small of Corey’s back.

“Just a minute!” Stephens gasped as watched Corey and the two boys disappear into a room down the hall. Stephens blinked as he thought he saw the hand on the small of Corey’s back slide down to Corey’s ass.

“Oh my head,” Corey groaned as he rolled over and saw a boy with blond hair staring at him. The boy looked fuzzy and unclear to Corey. Ohhph,” Corey moaned as he dropped back down on the mattress. Then Corey felt something on the shaft of his dick. He stored down at his phallus and saw the long white finger moving gently up and down his charcoal colored rod. “What the fuck are doi…” Corey upper body fell back down onto the mattress, his elbow no longer able to hold his upper body up.

“Oh whee,” Craig sealed with delight as he saw the white chord attached to Corey’s left wrist. It had come off the metal bed head and was loose around the caramel colored wrist. Craig took the chord and re tied it to Corey’s wrist. He pulled it up and tied it to the bed head. Craig was as naked as Corey was and now he had the 21 year old black kid all to himself. Craig was delighted that Corey was basically immobile and he was in the same bed as he, Craig was.

Craig shuffled across the bed and sat on Corey’s face, he wiggled his ass to make himself comfortable and to make sure that Corey got his fair share of ass. Craig lent forward and grabbed Corey’s dick he rubbed and caressed until a drip of precum appeared then he set about aggressively sucking Corey off. He shifted his position and began to fondle Corey’s current colored nipples. “Arrgg,” Corey moaned as Craig pinched the left nipple. Craig became horny as twisted Corey’s nipples. “OH my own private black boy,” Craig mumbled. Craig’s hands slipped down to where Corey’s balls should have been but he only found the shaft of Corey’s 8 inch dick. Craig looked down only to find that Corey’s balls were stuck between his thighs and poked out the back. He reached over at his captive’s testicles and fondled them and rubbed them. “OH Corey I am gonna make you my slave, my own private slave.” Craig looked down Corey’s body and saw that his feet were bound at the ankles “Ohh,” he squealed in exaltation. He took Corey’s dick in his hand and began to pull it “Oh you are smooth Craig whispered. He lowered his head and sucked, and sucked Corey off. Corey groaned as his nether region hurt. Soon Craig had more than he could handle. Corey laid back exhausted and he passed out.

“I don’t know what happened,” Corey said “I only know that I woke up next to this blonde kid and I was all trussed up like a thanks giving turkey.” Corey looked at Justin with a hang dog expression. Justin lent forward and put his hand on Corey’s naked thigh he smiled at Corey, Corey looked at Justin and realized that Justin’s touch was making him Horney. Justin’s dark hand complimented Corey’s caramel tones. “I am going to have a shower then I am off to bed,” Corey said he stood up. Corey turned to Justin “How did I get home?” he asked in a plaintive voice.

“Stephens brought you home don’t you remember,” Justin said.

Corey got in the shower moments later Justin joined him. Justin pushed Corey up against the glass and they kissed, Justin held Corey’s wrists flat upon the glass.

The finished showering and Justin patted Corey dry with a towel then Justin led Corey into the bed room. With his foot he gave the door a shove and it slammed closed.

@blackjack

My Final Spanking A 22 yo college student receives a blistering but stimulating spanking from his angry father for getting bad grades at school. [ratings](You must […]

Cowboy Ed decides to bite the hand that feeds him and steals $700 from a generous friend. Scooter decides to take matters into his own hands and teach the straight muscular hairy cowboy a lesson he won’t forget in this tickling revenge story from Scooter McGraw.
[ratings]

Payback for Cowboy Ed
by Scooter McGraw

Ed moved in with me shortly after he broke up with his wife. He’s straight as an arrow, so I never hit on him. But, man, was he a hunk. Five foot nine, 180 pounds, most of it in his upper body. Big ol’ walrus type moustache. Hairy all over. He was a mason by trade, and had the blue collar muscles to prove it. Always walked around in western wear, and sported a very well-worn pair of size 10 EEE cowboy boots.

I used to get him out of bed in the morning by pulling the covers up, and tickling the bottoms of those big, wide feet until he woke. It became a morning ritual, and although he couldn’t stand it, put up with it. He WAS living in my house for free at the time.

To make a long story short, he stole my checkbook while I was out of town one weekend, and helped himself to $700 of my hard-earned money. I didn’t know he’d done it until a month later, after he’d moved out. The police wouldn’t do much to help me, and he was punished by spending exactly ONE night in jail.

Well, Scooter’s got a vigilante mentality, and decided to take matters into his own hands. Finding a willing friend, I’d pay him to meet Ed at the local bar, and buy him drinks until Ed passed out, dead drunk. Ed would be dumped into my car, and we’d head to a buddy’s camp that’s well hidden in the woods in the remotest section of the nearby Adirondack Mountains.

Upon awakening, he’d find himself in the following predicament:

He’s lying on his back with his arms pressed firmly at his sides, coil after coil of rope circling his torso and arms. Another rope would run across his chest, under his armpits, each end securely fastened to the legs at the head of the bed. A third rope would circle his waist, then run under the bed, fastened to the legs at the center. A fourth rope is tightly looped around one cowboy-booted ankle, stretched taut, and tied to a leg at the foot of the bed.

His other foot is bare, its cowboy boot and boot sock casually tossed to the side. A rope is tied around this ankle, similar to his booted foot, but there appears to be some kind of slip knot tied in the middle, that only needs a free hand to pull on it and loose the leg. A string is tied around his big toe, which is very taut and goes from his foot through an eyebolt in the wall, to a hat rack standing in the corner, where the other end passes through, around, and against…the trigger of his favorite six-shooter that’s securely fastened to the rack.

I show him that the safety of the gun is engaged, as I hold up one bullet, a blank (but he knows not), placing it in the chamber, then spinning the cartridge so he doesn’t know which round will have the bullet. I tell him, “Don’t you dare move your foot, or you’ll blow your head off. Maybe not the first time ya move, but soon”, as I theatrically flip the safety off. I tug on the slip knot of the rope holding his bare foot in place, and the rope falls to the floor, completely freeing his leg. I croon, “There, now…ya ain’t even got the rope to help ya stay still, anymore. Suffer.”

I leave the room, sit, and wait. Maybe he’ll twitch his toes a little too much, and we’ll hear a “CLICK!”, as the empty chamber advances. Eventually, I’ll come back, to find him sweatin’…uh…bullets.

That’s when I’ll pull a chair up to the foot of the bed, and taunt him about learning his lesson. Of course, he’ll readily admit his guilt, and beg forgiveness. But I won’t be impressed. I’ll reply, “I don’t think you’ve REALLY learned not to screw your friends.”

I’ll pull a long seagull feather from my pocket, white with an evil-looking black tip, stroke it through my fingers, and pull my chair right up to his bare foot. Then the s-l-o-w stroking of the feather begins, up and down and across the soles. Into the toes. Across the ball of the foot. He starts to laugh, but bites his lips. No good.

The torture becomes more directed, more intense. Eventually, his butch attitude dissolves in a bellow of laughter, as he pulls his tormented tenderfoot away from the maddening tickle of the feather. We hear “CLICK!”, as I exclaim, “Only four left. Maybe less. Better not move that foot again.”

I tickle even more cruelly, until it’s impossible for him to remain still at all. A third, a fourth, a fifth “CLICK!” ensue from the gun. I have a wicked grin on my face. “This is it, Cowboy. Got any last words?”

I put the feather down, and pull “The Widowmaker” out of my back pocket. This face of this brush measures 3 1/2 by 5 inches, and has over two hundred blunted metal bristles on it. I smile, and slowly drag it once up and down his sole. No man has ever lived through a session with “The Widowmaker” and remained unchanged.

I stroke faster and faster. He struggles to remain motionless, but the thing tickles more than a man can bear. Finally, exhausted, all will destroyed, tortured beyond his ability to remain sane, he roars with laughter and yanks his foot one last time, causing the blank to fire and my dear cowboy buddy to pass out from fright.

Scooter McGraw

Watch All of This Week’s Videos at our Video Tube
Hot muscular tattooed stud KC is strapped in for a tag-team tickle torture session at My Friends Feet but the bondage doesn’t seem strong enough for this ripped stud and he almost escapes in this week’s “Clip of the Week”! Check out all of this week’s contenders at our Video Tube.