Brian gasped and twisted in his restraints as Steve’s greasy fingers massaged and pinched the spongy knob of his dick.
“Are you going to cum for me this time, Brian? You know what will happen if you don't cum.”
“Oh — ungh — please — just stroke harder — do it, make me cum, I want to cum I need it ooohhh god yessss....”
“Almost at the end of our ten minute knob rub, Brian... in a minute I’ll give you those ten firm strokes to give you a chance to cum... get ready, stud...”
“Oh — please — please....”
At the moment the digital timer began to chime, Steve wrapped his skilled hand around Brian’s rock-hard shaft and gave it a series of firm, precise strokes, full-length. Brian’s back arched and he gasped, ready to cum, feeling the jizz start to move from his balls... his stomach muscles contracted, lifting his torso from the bed, on the edge of orgasm...
On the tenth stroke, Steve stopped.
Brian convulsed, his penis contracting over and over, but unable to shoot the cum stalled in his nut sack.
“You were supposed to cum, Brian. Now you have to be punished.”
“No,” he gasped, “no, please...”
Steve stood and slipped on the claw-and-brush tipped gloves he used for tickle torture. He smiled at the bound mechanic, the hot, writhing body completely at his mercy.
“You know what comes next, Brian.”
The hunky straight guy with the cum-control fetish watched in horror as Steve set the timer for another ten minutes. He opened his mouth to beg, but Steve never gave him the chance.
“No! Pleeee-EEEE-EEE-HEE-HEE-HHEEEEEZZZZZAHHHHHEE!!!! No! No! not there ahhhhhEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHGODNO... no... not my pits I can’t not THERE pleeeeee--EEEE-AAA-HAHAHAAA!!!!”
Brian had arrived for his second cum-control session 40 minutes earlier, wearing an air both sheepish and horny. After handing Steve a crumpled wad of bills, he obeyed the order to strip down, drawing the sweaty tee over his head, kicking off his shoes, and unzipping his tight jeans.
“Um... Steve? I was thinking... I mean, this was really great last time, it was awesome, I just... well...”
“Socks and underwear too, Brian.”
Brian hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and started to slide them down over his deep but compact buttocks. “Okay, I.... um... maybe we can skip the ass stuff this time. Y’ know. It was... a little... bit...”
Brian looked away. “Not — I mean, it felt good and everything, but it’s just a little... too much. For now.”
Steve let his eyes rake the dark cleft as Brian bent away to strip off his socks.
“Tell you what, Brian, I won’t touch your ass unless you ask me to. Agreed?”
Brian had nodded, obviously relieved.
Brian lay gasping for air, chest heaving, body covered in a thick film of sweat, bright red patches here and there on his skin where Steve had let the claws and brushes do their nasty work.
“Ohhhhh gaaawwwwd.....” Brian croaked, voice raw from screaming and sucking in searing hot gulps of air.
Having re-set the timer for a fresh ten minutes, Steve lay down beside the groaning stud, head propped on one hand, gazing across Brian’s stomach at his throbbing, extremely frustrated dick. His other hand — gloveless! — reached out and began a slow massage of the drooling knob, pinching and rolling and twisting it, over and over...
“Okay, Brian... you have another 10 minutes to cum for me. Can you cum for me, Brian? Do you want it?”
“Please — you have to jerk me off, I can’t cum like this...”
“You don’t have any choice, Brian. You have to work for it. The only way you can get off is to do it my way. You have ten minutes of me working the head of your dick, and then ten strokes, and if you don’t cum... ten minutes of tickle torture. We’ve already been through the sequence four times. Maybe this time I’ll suspend your feet to a spreader bar and claw them while I run the brushes inside the backs of your knees...”
“Oh. Shit. Jeezus. You can’t do that, no please, you can’t!”
“Or I tell you what. You can cum anytime you want... all you have to do is ask me to play with your ass. Ask me to work your ass any way I want, and I’ll make you cum as much as you want. Hm?”
“Oh no... shit... I can’t take the tickle torture again I can’t please just let me cum now I need it soooo bad...”
“All you have to do is ask, Brian. It’s up to you.”
Brian squirmed a little, feeling the cool air invade his ass crack, feeling Steve’s hot breath on his abs. Feeling Steve’s fingers, relentlessly working his knob, arousing him, but not letting him cum.
Brian opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it again. Moaned a little.
Steve watched the play of emotions on Brian’s beard-shadowed face, and smiled.
“You have 8 minutes and 32 seconds to decide, Brian.”
One... Two... Three... Four...
Oh god, yes, at last, he felt the pent-up semen begin to move...
Soooo close..... tingling...
But what if he didn’t cum... what if he couldn’t...
Not the torture... not again...
“OKAY I’ll do it do it yes okay do my ass DO MY ASS just let me cum let me cum LET ME CUM I can’t take it not AGAIN oh GOD just DO IT!”
Steve took his hand away, leaving Brian on the edge of orgasm, and crossed the room to his tool table. There was a big plastic syringe, filled with bright green liquid.
“You’re gonna love this, Brian.” He slid the injector neatly into the tight pucker and began to push the plunger. “It’s new.”
Brian had his head raised, watching apprehensively as Steve pumped lube into his ass. Then his eyes widened and he lay his head back, hips squirming.
“Hey, what is that... feels really weird... itchy... burny... like it’s moving around inside oh WOW what was that jeezuz that stuff stings... itches... hot...”
Steve withdrew the injector and watched as Brian worked his hips, trying in vain to soothe the itch burning throughout his tender rectum, inflaming his eager prostate...
“Oh, shit, man... fffuuuckkkk....”
He clenched his buttocks and raised his back off the bed, sighing deeply as a giant gob of precum burped from his irritated piss lips. Steve took the opportunity to slip a pillow under Brian’s butt, then set about re-tying the stud’s ankles over his head. He grabbed a rubber glove for his left hand and knelt on the bed between Brian’s legs. A dribble of the lube oozed out of the spasming anus, and he used a protected finger to tuck it back in. Brian whimpered as the fingertip breached his hole.
“Feel good, stud?”
“Oh Jeezus... tingly... and it’s making me... want... oh god you’re in all the way... whoooshhhh! Oh man, hard to think straight, feels funny... good. Sooooo... goooooood...”
The rectum got a thorough digital exploration before Steve let his finger zero in on the swollen love nut. The stud started to buck up and down, fucking himself harder on the strong finger, trying to soothe the itch.
Steve grabbed Brian’s quivering manhood in his other hand and frigged it earnestly, giving it the firm strokes it craved.
“Ready to cum, big boy? Ready to give it up for Master Steve?”
“Oh FUCK yes do-it-do-it doitdoitDOITDOIT!... !!! .... ungh... uh... uh-uh-uh-uhhhhhhyyyyyyyyYYYYYYYYYESSSSSS!!!! FUCK!!!”
Projectiles of cum zinged out almost too fast to see, landing well over Brian’s head, splattering the wall and pelting the headboard. Steve kept milking as the cum flew, now spattering Brian’s torso and launching gobs at his heedless open mouth.
After the long, wild ride, the mechanic’s tightly-haired torso was a mess, and curds of cum covered his cheeks, eyelids, and lips. He licked them, moaning, as he continued to grind his ass onto Steve’s finger. His cock was still hard as steel.
“Ohhhh..hh...h... making me... do it... want it... Can’t... straight.... think hard. Straight hard to be. Thinking. Dizzy... need it bad, so bad...”
Steve by-passed the slender butt plugs he had laid out and grabbed the fat, 10-inch silicone dildo.
Meanwhile, down the hall...
“But that lube was a gift to me, Luke!”
“Shut up or we’ll set that thing on Frappé.”
Luke had one eye on the monitors linked to the cams in Steve’s room. The other eye roved appreciatively over Ford’s helpless body being impaled on the new prototype fuck machine.
“But it was for my birthday!”
“Shut your face or I’ll squirt some of that green shit up YOUR ass. How’s it running, Thad?”
Thaddeus Hatchett looked up from the high-tech gizmo that was sending a whirling, thrusting dildo into Ford’s upturned ass hole. He was typing away at a laptop plugged into the machine’s interface port.
“Pretty good, pretty good... the Martingale algorithm works better than the Fourier sequence...”
Luke rolled his eyes. Thad was the uber-techie of the frat house and had a tendency toward GeekSpeak.
The workbench at the end of Luke’s room had been cleared so they could set up the Fuck Stockade for Ford. This delightful steel contraption looked like a capital ‘I’ laid flat, with manacles at the four corners for wrists and ankles. Between the wrist loops was a neck collar, and at the very center of the thing was an erect T-bar to support the mid-body.
On all fours, Ford was strapped down, head restrained in the neck collar, midriff tied to the T-bar waist restraint, ass in the air.
At the ass end of the bench, a metal cube spouting wires and knobs was crouched. A robotic arm projected from one end, and it was this arm that was raping Ford’s ass with a long supple dildo. Thad turned a knob, and the arm went into overdrive, punching squeals from its hapless victim.
Luke grinned as Ford’s body bounced like a mad thing in its rigid iron constraints, then turned his attention to the open crate next to him.
It was tightly packed with dozens of jars of the Green Lube. Each bottle had a wax-sealed cork and a hand-written label in greek script. Thad had used his math experience to translate the Greek characters into Roman notation:
In the crate was a note:
Here is your birthday present, as promised. Use it carefully. The other part of your present will occur at midnight tonight. Be ready.
Regarding use of this lubricant, see below:
“Third time, Addiction
Which craves nether Friction;
Beware the Withdrawal
For then devil take All.”
See you online tonight.
Your devoted admirer,
Ford had called Luke in a panic the day before. His dad would be home soon and he had nowhere to hide the three crates in the crowded Spencer residence... not to mention time to clean up the evidence of his tryst with the delivery man. Ford had poured out the story of his miserable birthday, and Luke had demanded that Ford show Thad the computerized sex toys.
Ford had spent the night on his back with those same toys hooked to his nipples, dick, and butt, floating away on a prolonged orgasmic journey. The Mystery Man had added a new toy, a navel vibrator. Ford liked it.
Thad and Luke spent the night using materials ‘liberated’ from the physics lab to make their own fuck robot.
Steve made Brian cum four times before untying him. The blissed-out mechanic fell into a deep post-coital sleep and Steve decided to see how things were going in Luke’s room. His eyes lit up as he saw Ford being fucked by the new machine.
“Cool! Can I use it on Brian next time?”
“That’s the idea.”
Luke watched as Steve moved to the workbench, letting his hands roam over Ford’s naked flanks. Steve’s cock was hard as a rock from his session with Brian, and he eyed Ford’s mouth hungrily.
“Hey! Luke! Mind if I...?” he cocked a head at Ford.
Luke grinned. “Help yourself!”
Steve unzipped and let his cock spring out as he got into position at the head end of the Fuck Stockade.
Luke came closer to watch as Steve slapped Ford’s face gently with his dick, getting the robo-fucked jock’s attention.
“Oh, no... please... don’t-mmmffhhhh!!!”
“Ohhhhh, yeahhhhh, that’s better.... mmmm.... yesss.....”
“How’d it go?”
“That green stuff works great.... oohhh, that’s it, kid, work that tongue, make it feel reeeal good... yeah... That straight dude was begging me to use every toy I had, harder and deeper... begged to be fucked. Made him cum four times. He’s sleeping it off now.”
“Yeah, it looked hot on the video feeds... I forwarded the raw film to John and he’s getting it ready to post now. Should get some good hits.”
“Thad, turn that thing up, get his throat humming on my dick... oh yeah, that’s it... suck that dick, kid... mmmm...”
Steve kicked off his pants and fingered his own ass as he fucked Ford’s mouth. Pumping hard and fast, he came in less than a minute, dumping his load deep down Ford’s spasming throat. As he withdrew, he heard the sound of Luke’s zipper behind him.
Steve stepped aside and gave an invitational sweep of his arm toward Ford’s shiny mouth.
“No! Luke! Please! Nnmmmmfffhhhh...”
Luke shoved in to the hilt, burying Ford’s nose in his crinkly pubic hair, forcing the helpless jock to deep-throat his dick.
Steve moved to the side, pantless, to get a good view of the dildo plunging in and out of Ford’s vulnerable ass, watching it pound the horny adolescent prostate into a mindless fuck toy.
He took Ford’s exposed cock and began a nice hand job, working the kid up so he could make him cum at the same time as Luke.
Steve watched the hunky frat brother pleasure himself in Ford’s mouth, using his expert eye to predict just when Luke would let loose.
He made Ford shoot within a second after Luke’s first convulsion.
While Steve milked the last few drops from Ford’s dick, Luke withdrew, tousling Ford’s sweaty hair, and grinned at Thad.
“Want a turn, tech boy?”
Thad blushed. “Not right now. Thanks.”
Thad had a well-known aversion to having sex in front of the other guys. His ideal was to get a guy up in his room so he could tie him down and sit on his face for hours, getting his skinny ass eaten while he used both hands to work himself very VERY slowly to a furious cum.
This fantasy had been realized only once before he started working for Luke. Since then he had been getting it on a regular basis.
“Uh, Luke? Is that blond kid around?”
“Nick? No, he’s in Florida. Not back for two weeks.”
“Oh.” Thad had not yet had Nick for his face-sitting pleasure, and had been looking forward to it—especially after watching the video of the jock’s complete humiliation at Steve’s hands.
There was something about the blond high school jock—so puffed up, cocky, arrogant—but with an Achilles Heel vulnerability that left him helpless when his ass was violated. So hot.
Thad’s cock gave a lurch as he visualized the muscular jock tied spread-eagled on the floor of his bedroom, his handsome face cradled in Thad’s rimming seat, groaning in reluctant lust as a fat dildo was pushed into his rectum. Maybe he could rig up the new robo-fuck machine between the hunk’s spread thighs and use it on him to encourage more enthusiastic tongue work...
Late Sunday night Brian woke up in the frat house feeling great. His recollection was a bit fuzzy, but he definitely knew he had had the best orgasms ever. He immediately made another appointment for next day. The garage was closed for the Monday MLK holiday, and a nice long session with Steve and his toys seemed called for.
HOW WE SPENT THE MLK HOLIDAY
Dean Flagely noted that his decision to have Ford begin working off his chore duties on the MLK Holiday was perfect. His wife—Betty—was at the country club for an all-day bridge marathon, and they would be guaranteed to have the house to themselves. Alice would rather chew off her right arm than leave a bridge table early.
Initially, the Dean had envisioned waiting until spring to have Ford work, when the boy could be ordered to arrive shirtless, perhaps in a just a brief swim suit. With the privacy fence, the suit could come off, too, and the Dean envisioned Ford holding a rake using only his buttocks…
But in the meantime, the Flagely house had three bathrooms, and Ford could start by giving each of the toilets a thorough swabbing-out.
The Dean was quite pleased with his improvised scenario, which featured a number of dress socks, an old silk tie, and a toilet bowl brush.
Ford’s clothes were folded neatly and placed in a pile on the crushed-velvet sofa. An obsession with neatness was about all the Dean and his wife had in common. The Dean took his time securing the gag so that it was effective but comfortable, and Ford held his hands behind his back obediently as they were tied together with another of Flagely’s sheer dress socks.
The thin end of the tie was slipped around Ford’s scrotum, and the Dean’s nimble fingers whipped it around into a half-hitch knot, well remembered from his Navy days. He was pleased to see that Ford’s cock began to lengthen as the knot was cinched tight.
Using this impromptu leash, he led Ford by the balls into the over-decorated powder room just off the foyer.
As he ran hot water into the sink, the Dean took off his jacket, hung it on the door, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. A dozen liberal squirts of aromatic hand soap made the water foam up nicely. Meanwhile, he took the new toilet brush out of its box, and got Ford to straddle the toilet facing the tank, legs spread wide.
Dipping the brush in the hot, soapy water, the Dean took his time scrubbing Ford’s ass crack until it was bright pink and shiny, tugging firmly on the leash to keep the kid’s balls out of the way. The high school jock whimpered and squirmed as the harsh bristles were forced back and forth against his sensitive ass lips, and blushed as he realized that his cock was now fully hard.
Once he was finally satisfied that the boy’s butt crack was squeaky clean, the Dean reversed the brush and dipped the handle into the soapy mix.
The new toilet brush—bought especially for its fat, ribbed handle and long, thin shaft—worked perfectly. Once the handle grip was all the way in, Ford’s rectum closed tight around the thinner shaft, keeping it nicely in place.
Turning to face Dean Flagely, Ford had to squat low and thrust his hips back and around outrageously, using his new ‘tail’ to scrub the porcelain bowl in deep, slow circles, arching his back to get the head of the brush up under the toilet rim as directed. His high-pitched whimpering was partially muffled by the silk sock gag as the fat handle rotated this way and that inside his horny rectum, and the Dean used his leash to tug on his swinging nut sack, forcing him to move his hips this way and that. With his other hand, the Dean pinched and rolled Ford’s erect nipples and occasionally scratched the tip of his throbbing cock knob with his fingernail.
Ford glanced frequently at the sink stand, where Dean Flagely had placed a kitchen timer and set it for 20 minutes. As the minutes ticked by, Ford was growing helplessly hot, and his cock began to drip pre-cum, which Flagely fastidiously wiped up with a crumpled tissue.
After 15 minutes exactly, Ford was allowed to stand up straight and made to face the toilet. Tugging the leash to draw Ford’s balls back between his legs, the Dean ordered him to stand with his thighs pressed tightly together, then wound the leash in a spiral around the brush handle.
When the Dean yanked the tie up, it pulled deliciously on Ford’s shiny nut sack while crushing the boy’s swollen prostate with the fat brush handle.
Whimpering with painful pleasure, Ford was forced to stand perfectly still as the Dean used his other hand to stroke his steel-hard shaft, slowly increasing the tempo as the timer counted inexorably to zero.
Ford grunted and jerked as the orgasm was pumped forcefully from his dick, his shaft pulled down at a sharp angle to ensure that each projected gob of semen landed in the brilliantly-clean toilet bowl.
For three minutes afterward, he continued to stroke and massage the boy’s cock, rubbing his thumb over the semen-slimed glans in what he knew to be exquisite torture. Poor Ford bounced up and down, squealing into the gag as his post-cum sensitive knob overloaded his pleasure circuits.
Ford caught his breath while the older man washed his hands thoroughly in the sudsy water, then drained and dried the sink bowl.
The entire procedure was repeated exactly in the bath attached to the guest bedroom, only this time Ford’s cock was even more sensitive and he practically tore his balls off as he hopped up and down during the milking.
But the Dean had other plans for the cleaning of the third toilet, which was located in a spacious bath off the master bedroom, with a double sink and broad counter lined with Mrs. Flagely’s toiletries.
To Ford’s temporary relief, the gag and brush were removed. But as Ford opened to his mouth to indicate his thinks, he found the brush handle, still covered in his own anal juices, shoved into his mouth and tied in place with the socks.
Ford made a face as his throat muscles involuntarily sucked on the slimy handle, muffling his protests. The Dean turned him around to stand facing the toilet, then again yanked the leash back between his legs, this time tying it off to the towel rod just opposite.
Taking off his belt, he strapped it around Ford’s knees, so that Ford was standing with his thighs pressed together and his ass thrust back, as if he was about to high-drive into the toilet.
The Dean explained that this time, Ford would scrub out the toilet bowl holding the brush in his mouth.
It was nearly impossible. Bent sharply at the waist, Ford twisted his head and neck, trying hard not to move his torso as this made the leash tug painfully on his balls.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched in apprehension as the Dean selected a bottle of hand lotion form the counter and moved behind him. He felt the nozzle of the bottle pressed against his anus before a flood of cold lotion filled his handle-raped hole.
A few seconds later, he heard the Dean’s zipper being pulled, and then the older man—who was a good 4 inches taller than Ford—put one leg carefully up and over the leash, so that he was straddling the tie as well, with his groin against Ford’s buttocks. The Dean squirmed and adjusted his hips until his cock knob nuzzled its way between Ford’s cheeks and found his lubed anus.
With the leash holding him, and the Dean pushing his back to keep him bent over, Ford could not resist as the knob was forced into his ass, followed by the Dean’s thin, curved shaft, inch by inch, until he felt the guy’s crinkly pubes against his violated buttocks.
The Dean held still for a long moment as he released a long, high-pitched sigh, then began grinding his hips in a delicate fucking motion.
Ignoring the timer, the Dean allowed him to strop scrubbing after just a few minutes, much to Ford’s relief. He pulled the brush from Ford’s mouth, and to the boy’s surprise began to nuzzle and kiss his neck while running his hands all over the jock’s exquisite torso.
Ford noticed for the first time that there was a mirror over the stool, and he glanced up to find the Dean’s eyes fixed on his own in a darkly gleaming twinkle. The jock stud bit his lip and whimpered as the dry, calloused fingers pinched his nipples, teased his navel, stroked his rigid cock. His traitor body responded to all of it with hot lust, squirming in helpless pleasure.
“That’s right, boy, it’s all mine... you’re all mine... that young, tight body... all mine... mmmmhhh... that’s right, boy, you just take it... take it and squirm like a hot little whore... my own butt boy, getting what you hot jocks deserve... all tied up... all mine...”
Ford involuntarily rocked his head back and forth as the man began stroking his vulnerable cock in a firm, brisk hand job.
Steve decided to see if Brian was ready for the next step. He stopped the hunky mechanic in the second-floor hall of Luke’s frat house, outside his studio.
“Hands behind your head, Brian.”
“Hey—what? I mean—”
“Part of the control, Brian. That’s what you’re here for, right? Satisfying your control fetish?”
“Um... I mean... uh, yeah, but—”
“Then give it up. I’m in charge, right? So obedience is part of the scene. Public obedience, Brian. Hands up.”
Brian reluctantly obeyed, glancing up and down the hall to make sure no one was coming.
Steve undid the button of Brian’s jeans and started to slide his other hand down the back of Brian’s snug underwear.
“Hey, c’mon, Steve, enough, I’m not sure about this—”
Steve leaned in close. “Let’s get this straight, Brian... I had you tied up for two hours yesterday, squealing while you shot four loads into my hand... and you’re back, not even 24 hours later? You don't have any secrets from me, Brian, you babble like a girl while I keep you on the edge. So do as I say or walk out. Your choice.”
Brian bit his lip and grimaced as Steve’s hand squirmed down the back of his jeans, finger aiming for his tightly-clenched hole.
He clenched up and froze as the finger poked at his sphincter, then gave a reluctant sigh and let his hole relax. With expert ease, the digit wormed inside and began its naughty exploration of the straight dude’s hidden love button.
“Good boy. I’ve got a new rig in there you’re gonna love. But first I want make sure you’re in the mood. Mouth closed, legs apart, big guy...”
Brian whimpered and spread his legs a little, Steve’s expert hand unzipped his fly and began to work his already-rigid cock.
Within 3 minutes, Brian was breathing in ragged gulps as Steve teased him to the edge.
“Oh yeah, stud... I’d say you’re definitely ready... okay, Brian, strip down... right out here in the hall…”
“Oh, god, you can’t…” He glanced at Steve’s stern expression. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”
Steve made a point of staring lewdly as Brian took off his clothes, enjoying the mechanic’s full-body blush as he did so. Steve gathered up the discarded garments and put them in the studio, returning with a duffel bag and a ladder-back chair with a very tall, narrow back.
Steve took out a length of black silk and Brian groaned as it was tied around his eyes.
“Ah, man… do we have to do it this way? I can’t tell if anyone’s in the hall…”
“That’s the idea. Now bend over and use your hands to spread those pretty little cheeks of yours.”
Breathing hard, Brian did as he was told, gasping as Steve inserted a basting bulb and filled his ass with a generous dose of Green Lube, followed immediately by a fat butt plug to keep the stuff inside him. As it began its insidious work, Brian whimpered and moaned, feeling like a thousand ants were nibbling on his prostate.
“Okay, Brian, that plug’s got a built-in vibrator, and I’m going to play with the remote control while you hold your cheeks apart and shake your ass like a stripper. Put on a nice show for me, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll reach between your legs and give that cock the nice firm strokes it craves.”
Brian’s body gave a spastic lurch as Steve turned the vibrator on.
“C’mon, Brian… shake that booty… or no nookie…”
Brian reluctantly complied, shaking his ass in stiff little jerks, but soon, under the distracting influence of the Lube, he was putting on quite a show.
(Rustle. Breathing sounds.)
Brian stopped in a panic, thinking someone else was in the hall, but after a few seconds of silence, he resumed his lewd performance, longing to feel Steve’s supple fingers grasp his ready-to-cum shaft.
But then he distinctly heard a rustle of cloth, like someone taking off a shirt. He froze.
“Wh… what are you doing? Is someone there? Steve?”
“Hey—Steve—that sounds like—um—I mean, the deal is you keep your clothes on, right?”
Undressing sounds were now unmistakable.
“Okay, Brian, I want you to stand up and hold your wrists together behind your back.”
“Hey—I mean it, did you take off your clothes? Is there someone else there? That’s not the deal, Steve!”
Steve picked a pair of cuffs from the duffel bag and jangled them next to Brian’s ear.
“Hands behind your back. Or go home.”
Brian reluctantly held his wrists behind him as Steve snapped the cuffs around his wrists.
“Okay, Brian, I am now sitting in the chair right behind you. I want you to spread your legs wide and step back, so that you are straddling the seat of the chair with your legs on either side. I’ll guide you.”
“Steve—c’mon, man you gotta tell me—“
Brian felt Steve’s supple hand grasp his dangling nut sack and pull back gently. Brian spread his legs and waddled backward two steps.
“Okay, Brian, I’m going to guide your arms up and back so we can slip them behind the tall back of the chair. Then I want you to sit down on my lap.”
“Oh, man—are you naked? No way! I’m not sitting on another guy’s junk!”
“What are you afraid of, Brian? With that nice fat plug up your ass, I can’t put my dick up your hole even if I am naked. If it helps, I promise not to stick my dick up your ass. Okay?”
“Still, man—you’re naked, no way I’m sitting on your lap, it’ll look like—”
“Exactly. But it will only look that way. But if you don’t want to, just forget it. Go home, I’ll give you your seventy-five bucks back.”
Steve gave Brian’s dick a long, lascivious stroke.
“Ohhhh…. Ffffuccckkkk, mannn…”
“It’s up to you. But once your hands are behind the chair back, there’s no stopping.”
Brian groaned, and stood still for a long moment, then raised his cuffed hands silently.
“Good, Brian… hands up and over the back… and now, sit…”
Brian slowly started to squat, but as his dangling nuts touched naked skin he started to jerk up.
In a flash, Steve grabbed his ankles and pulled Brian’s feet up and back, forcing him to collapse onto Steve’s lap
Brian struggled wildly as he felt Steve’s fully erect cock poking at his buttocks.
Ignoring Brian’s yelling and cursing, Steve lifted the guy’s ankles and tied them one at a time to the rear corners of the seat. Brian’s full weight was now on Steve’s lap, and try as he might he was unable to raise his ass off Steve’s naked thighs.
Steve’s left hand reached around to caress Brian’s heaving pecs, and pulled him back so the guy’s sweaty back was pressed against his own chest.
His other hand found Brian’s helplessly vulnerable dick and began to stroke.
Brian jerked this way and that, hoping he could make the whole chair topple, but with his feet tied the way they were, his body was off-kilter and Steve could hold his chest in place easily.
All of a sudden Steve turned the vibrator setting to maximum, and Brian was unable to ignore the flood of sensations shooting through his violated ass and throbbing prick, even as his skin crawled with disgust at the intimate contact with Steve’s naked body.
Steve moved his hips a little, easing his cock out from under Brian’s weight. The straight guy shuddered as he felt Steve’s erection come upright and lodge itself vertically in his ass crack.
Steve gave a moan of his own as he slid his dick up and down a tiny bit in the sweat-lubed crack. Brian’s butt cheeks gripped his cock like a jerk tube, and there was nothing the butch mechanic could do as Steve pleasured himself in this way.
“Fuck you! I’m never doing this again… oh, man… shit… ffffuuuccckkk… your making me so… fucking… hornyyyy… … I don’t… want to… not his way, please, dude OH FUUUCCKK!!! —No—Please—Don’t make me, I don’t want to cum this way oh please oh fuck you’re going to and there’s nothing I can do oh fuck—”
Within seconds, Steve pushed Brian’s helpless body to the brink of climax, then stopped.
Brian’s protests had subsided, and all he could do was draw in shudderingly deep breaths as his body receded from the orgasmic brink. So close. Fuck. So close...
The floor creaked.
“Oh no—who’s there? Is someone there? Steve, you gotta tell me, I can’t stand it—”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. Either way, you’re gonna perform like a nice hot slut. Because you can’t help it, once I get my hand on your dick you always do. You know I can make you cum anytime, and make you cum again and again. Even if there are a bunch of guys watching your ass squirm in my lap.”
“Whoever’s watching, his dick is NOT up my ass, okay? It only looks like it, he made me do it—”
Steve took one of Brian’s nipples and pinched it hard until the guy shut up,
“Wrong answer, Brian. So now you better convince everybody that my cock is all the way up that hungry butt of yours, and that you love every inch of it. Or your poor little dick is gonna wave in frustration until midnight.”
“Convince… you mean, somebody IS watching? Oh, man… no… I can’t—”
“That’s up to you, Brian. And maybe nobody’s there anyway. You don’t know. And I’ve got all the time in the world.”
After 20 minutes with Steve’s fingers teasing his nipples, his navel, tickling his ribs, and scratching at his sweaty, upturned feet, and the vibrator buzzing his Lube-infected prostate, the delirious Brian began to babble about how great Steve’s cock felt up his ass.
Brian was by then too far gone to hear the sound of zippers being drawn... first one, then two, then several more, accompanied by a background chorus of floor creaks and heavy breathing.
“Reverend Spencer, pleased to meet you, I’m Isaac Thorn. I understand First Baptist is ready to move forward with the project.”
“Yes, our FBI funding has been approved.”
“Oh - not the Bureau, no, this is the Faith-Based-Initiative Program. Gave us quite a bit more than we asked for, actually. Which is why I wanted to meet with you personally.”
“I hope my project manager isn’t giving you any trouble?”
“Oh, no, the plans to remodel the Undercroft into our new Youth Center are going fine. No, I called because I understand you also sell state-of-the-art surveillance equipment.”
“Hm. Not many people know that. Yes, I do. It’s a separate company. Lernaeus, Ltd.”
“I’m interested in a custom installation as part of the construction project.”
“Are you, now?” Thorn leaned back and gave The Reverend a speculative look. “It’s expensive. And, of course, there can be legal issues.”
“I think you will find the Waiver form for the Center covers that. Here, take a look, middle of page three, just there...”
Thorn withdrew a small pair of reading glasses that sat incongruously on his rugged face, and read through the document with some care. As he slipped off the glasses his eyes gave a glint of surprised appreciation.
“What was it you had in mind, exactly?”
They lifted Brian’s unconscious body up off of the bondage chair, his chest, thighs, back and buttocks glistening with a thick layer of semen.
Only four of the loads were Brian’s. The many others had been contributed by members of the fraternity. The straight mechanic looked like he had been covered in wallpaper paste.
Steve eased himself off the chair, cock still dripping from his third cum. The brothers toweled the cum from Brian’s torso and legs before putting him face-down, spread-eagled on the bed in the studio.
The door darkened as John looked into the room.
“Hey Steve! Sorry I missed the festivities!” The huge, muscular frat dude gave an eager glance at the spread buttocks and licked his lips. “May I?”
Steve grinned at his frat buddy and frequent bed partner. “Help yourself!”
John knelt between Brian’s spread legs, and began to slurp Steve’s cum from the butch mechanic’s ass crack. John sighed in pig heaven as he felt Steve’s hands slide into his jeans, one down the front, the other down the back.
Hours later, Brian woke, feeling refreshed and remembering only that he had had four fantastic orgasms. His mind was a bit vague about what had happened after he was tied to Steve’s lap.
So much had happened over the MLK Holiday weekend that Ford had almost forgotten about his encounter with the Russell boys on his way home from the ‘birthday spanking’ in his dad’s office.
He was reminded as soon as he got to school.
A cluster of sniggering jocks was standing around his locker. He pushed through to discover a color-print photo of himself, wearing only a jock, dashing down the sidewalk of Cherry Street. The caption read: RUN, FAGGOT, RUN.
His cheeks burned. He tore the photos down and slammed open the locker.
“Thanks, guys. Real funny.”
The red-headed twins guffawed and led the pack of jocks down the hall.
“There’s plenty more all over the school, Ford. Just so you know!”