Bait and Switch

Chapter 2

For weeks after I had turned down the first team’s offensive line Henry from dominating me, I tried “Dom” after “Dom.” A weightlifter who was into spanking but mostly just eating my ass. Another muscular freshman who said he loved bondage but tied himself up more than he tied me. A gymnast who liked to leave me in “predicaments” of uncomfortable positions while he ate food and watched.

And there was something I liked about the gymnast, how he didn’t seem to care how much I was in pain. He was there to watch me and sometimes take a photo. But after the third time of him just having a meal while I was holding a pose naked, I asked when we’d spice things up. It was the end of the session at his place, and I was still naked.

“Oh, this isn’t a sex thing. I’m straight.”

“Wait, why do you do this then?” I asked.

“Come on,” he said. “It’s fucking funny! You know how many of you gay guys I’ve gotten to do this? Now, every time I see you on campus, we both know what kind of a man you are. That little uncomfortable feeling in your throat for you, is a rush of power to my chest for me. And I have photo blackmail just for fun.”

My throat went dry. Yet for reasons I couldn’t control, I felt blood rush to my cock.

He laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve never used the blackmail on anyone.”

I let out a soft smile of relief.

“Yet.”

Another night of me alone in my room, furiously jerking off to the thought of something I shouldn’t. After I came, I made myself promise I’d never see him again either. If those photos leaked, my football career would be over.

Weeks later, a promising guy came up through the noise of Doms not attractive enough to meet my standards. “Dom 4 Curious” was his name. His profile was a gorgeous muscular chest with a sprinkling of hair. We swapped messages, then face pics. Wow. An All-American smile and boyish-eyes with a dark red beard and buzz cut. Throughout the next week, we messaged, and I fell. It was like he could read my mind.

“I’m new to all this,” I said.

“It’s because you can’t push it away. That little part in your brain that keeps whispering to you when you’re on your knees in front of a man, ‘This is where I belong.’”

The next day:

“What are you interested in?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I messaged back. “I don’t want to do anything too crazy. I was tied up by this guy who didn’t know what they were doing.”

“You won’t have to worry about that.”

“Because you won’t tie me up?”

“I never said that.”

I started to wait for every new message with glee. At endurance training, my mind would wander to the mysterious man, and the thought of hearing from him would push me through.

Then there were scrimmages. Scrimmages were awkward now since I’d rejected Henry. First team and second team always faced off against each other. Because Henry was offensive line, I had gotten around a direct faceoff with him but it was only a matter of time. Coach liked to switch positions every so often to keep us on our toes.

When I was on the bench during a scrimmage, my mind had wandered to a message I’d gotten. “The worse I tell you I’m going to hurt you, the more you send me hole pics.” My cock grew hard. A guy had walked past me and looked down at my cup. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed. I was beet red for the rest of practice.

“I got hard at football practice thinking of you today,” I messaged with a grin.

“What a humiliating thing to admit. The only thing we’ve talked about is how I’m going to tie you up, hurt you, and cum down your throat. And that made you rock hard in front of everyone?”

“I guess,” I replied. I hadn’t realized it, but that must have been why I was so embarrassed when I was caught. The irrational fear that my teammate somehow knew what thoughts made me like that.

“Guys thinking about fucking their girlfriends have a right to get hard,” he replied. “Doms imagining ways to throat-fuck sluts have a right. But when your cock gets hard at the thought of being tied up and hurt just for some stranger’s amusement? Fuck that’s just funny.”

I spent that whole night staring at his photos, touching myself and imagining him saying those words to me. The next day, we agreed to meet up at his dorm room that next weekend.

“There are ground rules,” he messaged.

“Anything you want,” I replied.

“Good boy,” he messaged back.

I felt a warm rush through my chest.

“Come wearing no underwear. Partway through when I decide, you will be blindfolded. The safeword will be ‘Red’. Say that only in emergencies, and the scene will end. You’ll leave and we never have to see each other again.”

“The no underwear will be uncomfortable,” I replied. I thought of walking with my jeans rubbing against my exposed ballsack.

“Good. It should also be humiliating.”

A minute later the red bearded man replied back. “And one more thing: Once you enter my house, you are not allowed to touch yourself. That is a right that only belongs to me.”

I felt pre-cum ooze out from my hard cock.

Saturday night as I went to his dorm room, I already felt like I was naked walking across campus. Without underwear my cock hit roughly against the fabric of my jeans and, combined with my swirling mind, I was hard before I was even halfway to his place. I tried jogging to speed it up, but that just made things worse. I really needed to buy a bike. It felt like each person’s eyes were on me, like they knew what I wasn’t wearing, like as soon as they were out of earshot they’d turn away and start laughing at me. So why was I rock hard?

I got to the red bearded man’s dorm and knocked. Knocking on his door, I felt a beautiful anxiety well up inside me. The moment before every first-time hookup, that question of if they’d be as hot as their photos, how they’d react to you, what their first move would be. The fear. It turned me on more than I liked to admit.

When the door opened, the man standing there was exactly the same as his pictures. Bulging muscles with a classic smile and that dark-red beard seared into my brain.

“Come in,” he said in a gentle soft voice that felt like it couldn’t match with the messages I’d been getting.

I walked in and he closed the door. It was a spacious single that had a living room, kitchen, private bathroom, and bedroom, housing reserved for upper classmen. We stood in the living room where a huge sofa sat, a giant TV, and memorabilia of our football team, the Hunters, plastered every surface. He cocked his head and stared at my jeans.

“I did it,” I said with an eager smile on my face. “I went commando.” I grabbed my zipper and started to take off my pants.

“Hey. Remember the ground rule,” he said, softly but firmly. “No touching yourself. That’s the Dom’s job now.”

“Right,” I said, lifting my hands back. “Sorry.”

“Come and kneel by the bed,” he said and walked me to the bedroom.

“Are you fans of the Hunters?” I asked as we walked into his bedroom. My mouth felt dry and my body wet with nervous sweat.

The bedroom had a huge king-sized bed, a closed closet, and even more Hunter swag scattered along the academic books and video games. The Dom pointed to the closet.

“Kneel there,” he said.

I did as I was told. Getting on my knees and putting my hands behind my head in position. Then, he sat on his bed and began to strip.

I watched with hunger as he took off his shirt, revealing those washboard abs and close-cut black chest hair. Then his shoes, socks, and pants. His bulge was clear even from where I was. He took off his underwear and a long, thin cock came plunging out and pointing to the sky.

My cock ached so bad for him to start doing things to me. He wordlessly opened a drawer and took out two pairs of silver handcuffs that glinted in the light of the room. Then, he walked over to me until he stood just inches from my body. His cock was eye level to me and if I just stuck out my tongue, I could taste that beautiful thing.

“Put your hands up,” he said.

I raised them high. He leaned forward to grab the sleeves of my shirt, which made his cock push right against my face. The warm, stiff foreskin pressed against my eyes and forehead as he lifted my shirt off me. A high moan came up from my throat.

Then, he pressed his hand against my left hand and I felt a pair of cold metal bands surround my wrist as the handcuff locked. He pulled my arm down and I heard another click. I tried to move my left arm, but realized it was locked to the handle of the closed closet, which must’ve had some way to lock the doors so they wouldn’t swing open. Another rough tug, now on my right hand, and in a moment both hands were locked to the closet.

I was trapped now. Squeezing with all my arms strength, I tested my restraints. But it was no good. I could only move less than a foot from where I was. And while I was doing that, the Dom had gotten behind me and grabbed my shoes and socks off me. Then was already gripping my belt and working that off me.

“Stand up,” he said.

I tried to stand as tall as I could, but it was more like a squat with the shackles around my hands. He tore off my pants in one swift motion, and I nearly fell over as he took them off each of my feet.

And just like that I had gone from being clothed and free, to naked and shackled in a stranger’s house in less than five minutes.

The red-bearded Dom grabbed something from his bedside table, then started to walk back. My heart was beating so fast. I tried to see what it was, but it took until he was right on top of me to see.

A blindfold. Black velvet with a strong elastic band. I started to fight against my restraints. This was all happening so fast.

“Wait, I, I don’t even know your name!” I cried out.

He didn’t even dignify me with a laugh. Just put the blindfold around my eyes so that one moment I saw his beautiful face frozen in an emotionless stare, and the next I only saw darkness. Just the touch of his hands against my head to guide me. And then in a moment even that was gone. His touch left and I heard sounds of steps that got softer as he walked away.

I was alone.

I pulled against the hard metal of my restraints, feeling the cuffs dig into my bare skin. But all my muscles were useless, just decorations dripping cold sweat now. Because I was so enraptured by that man, because I had willingly knelt in front of him and let him chain me to the cuffs, I had sacrificed any advantage my athletic body had. And this was my punishment

Panic and doubt began to set into my mind. Was he going to return? Or was he just going to leave me here for hours? Tied up naked. Fuck why did that make me drip pre-cum? An even worse thought crossed my mind. He could have snuck back in and be taking pictures of me right now. Blackmail that could destroy my football career if he just hit the “send” button. Up and. coming Star Quarterback of the Hunter Team Revealed to be Cock-hungry Faggot.

“Hey!” I screamed out. I had to be let out. “Get me out of here!”

Nothing. I could just imagine him laying back in bed, staring down at me with those beautiful eyes and a diabolical smirk, stroking his cock as he used his other hand to record.

“Please!” I yelled again. I felt my face begin to burn in humiliation. “Please… Sir.”

Still nothing.

“FUCK, SET ME FREE YOU-“

My screaming was interrupted by his cock thrusting all the way down my throat. I gagged hard and felt saliva spit up all over my throat. For a moment I was sure I was going to vomit.

Then the cock thrust out of me. “Thank-“ I began to say in a sputtered mumble. Before I could finish it jammed right back down my throat. Another violent gag and spit dripped down my mouth and my face as my eyes grew wide from the pain. The dick was so huge, so thick and hairy in my mouth. It took everything in me but I held down my gag reflex.

The Dom’s hand scratched the top of my head like I was a dog that had just done a trick. I felt a warm sense of pleasure radiant through me. I had done good. Still in my own black world, I began to feel the red-bearded Dom’s cock slide back and forth, face fucking my throat. Imagining his thin long cock, now inside my mouth. It felt so much fatter and hairier than I thought it would be. His pre-cum was leaking with each thrust, sending it instantly down my throat. The taste intoxicated me.

His thrusts got faster and faster, gaining a dangerous intensity so that I was barely recovering from the last violation of my throat when the next one came. Low, primal grunts rumbled out of his mouth to my ears. So much lower than anything the red-bearded Dom had made before. It was like he was a different person now that he was face-fucking me.

As much as I tried to pull back or scream, he just kept going faster. Like I was nothing more than a conveniently placed fleshlight.

It got to the point I was sure he was about to cum. His cock was coming so fast and strong. I held on, closing my eyes to stop myself from crying. And then he pulled out and I opened wide for the final spurt, my own cock nearly bursting.

But my mouth hung open like a fish. I heard a deep, cruel chuckle. And then a forceful hand around my cock began to pump it up and down.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned in overwhelming pleasure.

His hand felt so good. Better than some mouths I’d gotten.

Then, he took his other hand and traced my nipple with his finger. I began humping the air with my cock. A hardy laugh filled the air. He took his rough fingernails and dug into my nipple, and sharp pain shot through me.

“I wanna cum so bad,” I said, voice fluttering from ecstasy. If he kept going like that I was going to blow faster than I ever had. He was pumping me like an animal, like I was a beast hooked up to a factory line.

“Little cumslut already about to shoot just from slobbering over a cock?” he said with a snarl.

“Yes,” I said, words falling out. His voice was so deep and commanding, something about it touching a memory in my brain that made me even closer to the edge.

“That’s pathetic,” the man said. “Let me show you how a real man cums.” And with that, he gripped my head and tugged me sideways. My chest was pulled to a 45-degree angle where it met his cock. He slammed his hand against the back of my head and I was swallowing his cock again. But because he’d angled me away, his other hand was still free to jerk off my cock.

The sensations of his cock and his hand were overwhelming. He was back at full speed. In my mind I could imagine what it would look like, my head slamming into his chiseled abs, the light brushing of chest hair, each time he pushed my head to the base of his monster cock. I felt my face slam against his chest, the gloriously hairy forest of his chest, again and again.

“Beg for my cum!” he shouted at me.

“P—s, s—r!” I said, mouth full of cock and slobber dripping to my chest.

“Fuck!” he screamed. He brutally crushed my head against his hand and I felt his cock destroy the back of my throat as cum blasted down it. My nose was pressed against his chest cutting me off from breath. I was choking and airless as shot after shot of cum rocketed down my throat. The last of my oxygen was leaving me as I felt him stroking my cock. I was going to burst all over myself, or I was going to blackout. Terror began to creep in as I tried to push away from his large, round chest.

And that was when I realized.

His chest. His large, round chest. My face pressed against it, the chest wasn’t the hard abs I had seen on the red-bearded Dom. It was more beer belly than washboard abs. And even hairier, a jungle of fur rather than the short-cut hairs. And then there was the voice that had changed from high pitched to a strangely familiar deep.

Fuck, did that mean…

“Cum for me, boy,” he said, a gentle yet firm command. It was like he controlled my body.

I burst. Massive shots of cum hurtled out of my cock and hit my chest. As the first wave of pleasure hit me, I thought, This is who I am meant to be. And then he took his cock out of my mouth, and I could breathe again as his hand continued to pump the cum out of me.

I felt the next wave hit, and let out a huge moan of pleasure when a searing light hit my eyes. My blindfold had been taken off. I blinked upwards, still mid-orgasm, and my heart stopped.

Staring down at me, grinning like he was the devil who’d just claimed a new soul, was the man I had sworn to never let touch me again. Milking my cock was the first team offensive line, Henry.