⁕ Disclaimer:
This story is strictly fictional and contains male-on-male (gay 🏳🌈 ) sexual content, both implied and explicit. 🔞 Reader discretion is advised. The names, ages, circumstances, parties, and locations mentioned in this narrative are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual individuals is purely coincidental. This story is a product of the author’s imagination. The author does not endorse any products or entities mentioned herein.
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All copyrights to this story remain strictly that of the author. No other publication, use, or reproduction of this story or parts of this story is allowed without the author’s written consent. It is published on www.gaydemon.com. Under the pseudonym of StrykerJ.
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Introduction:
Moving to a new town was supposed to be a fresh start for the thirty-four-year-old professor, but a single wrong turn changed everything. What began as an innocent evening stroll turned into a desperate flight down a dead-end alley. He is taken, used, and abused by primarily several younger black men behind the Blue Oyster. Caught and left bound at the threshold of the local leather bar, he thought the worst was over — until he met a young man who claimed to be a ‘college master.’ Dragged deeper into a world of rope and shadows, the professor was suspended from the rafters and pushed to his limits. Yet, as the sun rose and he secured a ride back to the safety of campus, the professor realized he held a card he hadn’t played yet.
Straight Up the Wrong Alley.
Hunted, caught, and abused.
Victor Thorne walked through the new college city, his mind dazed and uncharacteristically slow. He ran a hand through his thick black hair, trying to steady the world as it tilted while attempting to smooth his disheveled locks at the same time. He feared some asshole had slipped something into one too many drinks — a humiliating thought for a thirty-four-year-old chemistry professor who should have recognized the signs instantly.
As he passed a dim shop window, his reflection caught the streetlight. Even through the haze, his jawline looked sharp, though his handsome face was tighter than usual, the lines around his eyes deepening with frustration. He was usually known for being strict but not unfriendly, but right now, he just felt like a wet rag.
Being new in town, Thorne wasn’t entirely sure of his bearings, but he knew the college campus was somewhere nearby. He ducked into a shortcut through a back alley in the entertainment district, or so he thought. The sun had set ages ago, and the dim, flickering lights made it nearly impossible to tell if he was heading toward the university or deeper into the shadows.
• The long walk home.
As the cold set in and the hour grew late, Thorne quickened his pace down the dark alley. “Hey, honey,” a raspy voice called from the shadows. “Want to have a good time? You look like you could need someone to warm you up. How about it — only 20 dollars for some real fun!”
It was a street hooker doing her best to earn some cash for her pimp. When Thorne didn’t slow down, she grew desperate.
“A fiver for a blow job then? Come on, man — this girl needs some love.”
But the professor wasn’t interested. Frankly, he recognized the type; she reminded him of a student in one of his classes — the kind of girl who spent her time painting her mug while Professor Thorne tried to teach her a brand of chemistry she had no use for. She tried to grasp the professor’s arm in an attempt to stop him from walking past, but he shrugged her off with a cold sneer.
A short distance along the alley, he stopped dead. Two thugs were beating up a young college man. One of them gripped the youngster’s face, forcing his head back as the other shoved a thick, black cock into his mouth. Thorne was straight. Yet, somehow, he felt a jolt of arousal at the sight of the thugs abusing the fellow. He retreated into the shadows across the alleyway, watching them in silence.
“That’s what you get, boy! Y’all are on our turf now, Bitch! Hand over your bling — or T is going to take it out of your ass!” the gangster shouted menacingly. Apparently, the boy did not react quickly enough. “Fuck it, T! Take his ass anyway. He’s gagging for it. Shove that mahogany baseball bat up his cunt and breed the Bitch!”
Professor Thorne was naturally anti-aggression, but he couldn’t help himself; he was mesmerized. The thugs were well-hung, fit assholes — the type who wore sneakers, shorts, and tank tops with baseball caps. They were gold-toothed and blinged-out, their pumped-up black bodies covered in tattoos. Even the little white punk at their feet wasn’t ugly.
All of a sudden, the professor felt a hand down his pants. In a surge of fright, he looked around, only to discover it was his own hand gripping his member. Now Victor Thorne knew for sure — he’d been slipped a Mickey. He was horny as fuck, and he was certain it was one of the gay students who had tried to chat him up earlier.
• Getting taught a lesson.
Mister Thorne manned up and stepped back into the light. He made himself look as butch and authoritarian as he could, shouting, “Hey, stop that at once! Or I will call the police!”
Bradly, the guy who kept the youngster pinned down, looked mad in Thorne’s direction. T still tried to force himself into the boy’s ass. But his fat shaft was way too massive for the white puckered fuck hole he was attempting to penetrate.
The gangster wasn’t happy about this interruption, either — and even the white boy looked angry at the professor. Thorne realized too late that the lad might have just been cruising for some black thug cock.
Once the professor had walked past the three lads, Bradley and T robbed the punk anyway and began trailing Thorne. The professor looked around in fright as he felt the heavy footfalls behind him. He started walking faster, but the gangsters were still gaining on him. Panicked, Thorne broke into a run. He ducked into another side street, only to run straight into the arms of three nasty-looking men — two burly white guys and a black bodybuilder.
RJ, one of the white guys, clotheslined Victor Thorne. The impact was brutal, knocking the wind right out of the professor. He promptly dropped to his knees, gasping for air and grasping his throat.
“This fucker dared to interrupt my playtime —” T shouted to the other men loitering around the back entrance of a popular bar.
It was now painfully evident to Professor Thorne that all five of them were in the same gang — and that his ass was in big trouble now.
• Playtime in the back alley.
T hadn’t bothered putting his schlong away when he ran after Professor Thorne. Consequently, the first thing the professor felt was the heavy weight of that black cock slapping hard against his face.
“Nice hit, RJ — you knocked the pussy right on his ass!” Johnboy congratulated.
The big black brick-shithouse of a guy stood behind the professor and shoved two fingers into either side of Thorne’s mouth, hooking them into his cheeks.
“Gag the motherfucker, T! Make him choke until he passes out! We are going to have some fun with this cracker,” Johnboy yelled with a deep Southern accent.
“Ya man, take that black shit. Say ‘Aa’, Bitch.” T called out, his voice nasty as he shoved the fat cock straight into the stretched-open mouth.
“Bite, and you will lose your teeth! Open ya mouth and swallow it down! All the way — wider!” Johnboy shouted menacingly.
The professor could do nothing but comply. He felt T pressing the huge meat down, past his soft palate and straight into his esophagus.
“Hell — this fucker is actually doing it! Fuck, man — now that’s a sight you don’t often see! Your monster cock down a throat!” RJ called out, sounding randy.
The five burly men were all a little impressed. Thorne had swallowed the twelve-inch, thick schlong — helped, no doubt, by the copious amounts of alcohol and the Mickey he had consumed — all the way down. Thorne was choking on the mass of it, but he was taking every inch.
T pulled back only seconds before the professor lost consciousness. Thick wads of saliva trailed between Thorne’s lips and T’s black monster. As the professor gasped for air, tears streaming from his eyes, T meanly kicked him between the legs, forcing him to topple over.
“Look, boys, he wants some up his ass too — Roy, you’re up! Pound that cunt open for us.”
Roy — the other white meat — took Johnboy’s place and ripped Thorne’s pants away from his hips. He squatted behind the professor and plowed a very long, but thankfully slender, dong into Thorne’s rear. The professor tried to pinch his hole closed, but the drugs in his system had forced every muscle in his body to relax.
Victor Thorne had never been butt-fucked. He gasped loudly as he was penetrated deeply, the sound drowned out by the mean laughter of the gang. Roy pressed the professor’s head into the dirt and shoved his rear into the air. Grasping the professor’s hips firmly, Roy began to screw him hard and fast. This white-trash punk was getting his workout, and Thorne screamed his head off.
“You’re getting it now — I am going to breed your hole, old man!” Roy shouted gruffly.
Roy was only a few years younger than Thorne, and the comment stung more than the prick in his asshole. Roy slammed in one last time, unloading his nut deep inside. The guys watched with pleasure as Thorne tried to wriggle free the moment Roy vacated his bum.
• Over the barrel.
“Tie him up! His ass is going nowhere until we’ve all had a go on it, boys!” Johnboy called out to the rest.
Two of them quickly grabbed the professor’s arms, wrenching them behind his back and tying them to either side of a rusty metal rod. A rope was slung around Thorne’s neck and secured to the rod, pulling his head painfully backward and arching his spine. The professor was forced over a barrel, his pants pulled off his legs, and his shirt ripped to shreds.
T pushed away the man who stood ready to fuck more cum into the professor’s rear. “Piss off — I saw him first! I’ll ruin him for all of you fuckers! I am going to make him bleed!” T laughed meanly.
The fat head of his cock slammed hard against the professor’s buttocks. The sound was sharp, and it spurred the five men to begin slapping Thorne’s tormented ass and back, turning his husky body bright red. T rubbed his fat glans from Thorne’s balls to his back door, using the cum that had dribbled out of the professor’s hole to lube the tender entrance.
T pressed the head in and out, grasping his throbbing monster firmly as he teased the hole he was about to split wide open.
“Ready, Bitch? Here it comes — nicely lubed cunt, bastard! I am going in deep — relax, or I will rip it!” T shouted, sounding randy.
These words rang like gunshots in the alley, giving Mister Thorne the fright of his life.
The black gangster grabbed the metal rod over the professor’s back for leverage and plunged in. The moment Thorne began to scream, his mouth and throat were filled again. The men took turns on his face, making him gag, choke, and sputter. Once T shot his nut deep inside, the hole was immediately filled by a new cock. The gangsters railed all his holes for what felt like an eternity, leaving the professor drenched in cum and agony, slumped over the rusty barrel with his knees in the dirt and his arms still bound behind him.
• Fishing for Blue Oysters and leather bears.
The gangbangers walked away, smug and laughing meanly, clearly impressed by the fun they’d just had. “That’s the last time you stick your nose into my business!” T joked viciously, kicking the tormented professor one last time before he fell to the ground.
As they retreated, one of the guys banged hard on the back door of the Blue Oyster bar. “Let’s see if those faggots want to play with you, too, sucker!” Johnboy called back to Thorne.
A group of men from the Blue Oyster had heard the commotion in the alley. They weren’t at all surprised to see a naked, bound man in their back-alley playground; the Blue Oyster was a rough gay joint, frequented mainly by men into bondage and domination.
Three leather-clad men lifted Thorne out of the dirt and carried him into the bar’s backroom. The dungeon was painted pitch black and outfitted with every imaginable restraint. In the corners, several cages held college boys who spent their nights waiting for their turn to be used by the rough, older regulars.
It took the professor a while to regain his faculties. But once he saw his surroundings, Mister Thorne wished he had never come around to witness it. The backroom dungeon filled quickly with men eager to see the ‘catch of the day.’ They whooped and hollered at the sight of the professor’s cum-dripping, naked body suspended in a five-point sling.
One of the leather men took a cat-o’-nine-tails to his torso, whipping the already inflamed skin into a high-gloss crimson. Thorne’s muscles burned, shook, and trembled wildly under the onslaught. However — to his own profound shock — he actually began to enjoy the pain. The Mickey in his blood had twisted his senses; he found himself craving more dick in his hole and more cum in his mouth.
When he began to moan lustfully, the men whipped out their own toys and fell upon him. The professor was gang-fucked right there in the sling. They gave him precisely what he wanted — and the harder and rougher they treated him, the more he craved it. Even the hot piss he was forced to drink did not bother the otherwise germaphobic professor.
• Danny showed Thorne the ropes.
“Fellows — let’s string this dirty pig up! I want to teach him a lesson he won’t forget!” shouted Master Danny boisterously.
Danny was one of Professor Thorne’s students in chemistry class, but the boy the professor was used to — the one who sat in the third row and struggled with basic molecular bonds — was nothing compared to the mean leather master now standing between his legs.
In the lecture hall, Thorne had always seen Danny as a mediocre student, a quiet kid he could easily intimidate with a sharp remark or a failing grade. He never suspected that while he spent his weekends grading papers, Danny spent his fighting for status in the city’s underground scene.
In this basement, the hierarchy was flipped. Thorne was no longer the authority; he was just another plaything to these men.
Master Danny leaned forward, a cruel glint of recognition in his eyes, and took a heavy slave collar from his hip. He buckled it tightly around Thorne’s neck — indicating to the other men that this one belonged to him.
“Recognize me, Professor?” Danny whispered, his voice dripping with a dominance he never dared show in the classroom. “In my world, you’re the one failing the test.”
All but two of the horny bastards left Danny to it. As the drug began to wear off, Thorne felt a crushing sense of reality; he felt empty, cold, and dirty. Most of all, he felt used.
“Ready for some real chemistry lessons, Prof?” Master Danny said naughtily.
The two helpers held Mister Thorne as Danny bound the first thick hemp rope around his upper torso and arms, winding from front to back and vice versa. Soon, the professor was tied up like a Christmas ham — tighter than he cared for.
But he was unable to do or say anything about it, because Master Danny had placed a thick rubber dildo gag between his teeth and cinched it tight around the back of Thorne’s head. The object was so large and sat so deeply in his mouth that it made him gag, sending wads of spit drooling from the corners of his mouth.
Master Danny fastened more ropes around his lower torso and legs, pinching the groin tight but leaving full access to the professor’s cock, balls, and asshole. Danny skillfully tied three loops into the ropes; Thorne could not figure out their purpose until the helpers hooked two winches to either side of his legs. Finally, Master Danny fastened the main hoist to the ropes at his back.
The three of them hoisted Thorne clear of the ground, letting him hover vertically inches above the floor. Master Danny inspected his own handiwork, delighted with the result. He watched as the two helpers attached tit clamps to Thorne’s nipples and bound a rubber cock ring around his scrotum and just below his dick head. Lastly, they roughly inserted a prostate vibrator up his asshole. It hit the mark instantly; Thorne’s cock immediately began leaking pre cum.
• Chemistry lesson.
Master Danny circled menacingly around Thorne as the professor wriggled in the ropes. He punctuated his strides by striking Thorne with a leather-tipped riding crop, sending waves of pain and unwanted ecstasy through the man’s body.
Standing behind Thorne, Danny reached out and clicked the prostate vibrator to its highest setting. The buzzing emanating from Thorne’s depths was drowned out only by the muffled moans vibrating in his throat. Sensing that the professor was becoming a little too pleased with the treatment, Master Danny whipped him harshly across the thighs, making Thorne’s eyes water once more.
The absolute control Danny held over his superior was a potent aphrodisiac. He pulled his nine-inch cock out from beneath his leather codpiece, the dark material framing his length perfectly. He began to jerk himself off with one hand while the other gripped a heavy electric cattle prod. He pressed the tip against carefully chosen spots on Victor Thorne’s sweating skin.
“How is that for a lesson in chemistry?” Master Danny asked, his voice mimicking a classroom quiz. “What do you get when you mix electricity with a saline solution?”
Thorne glared at Danny with a look of pure loathing and received a sharp jolt of punishment as a result. Danny pulled a side table closer, revealing an electric pulse generator. He attached the probes to the collar, the tit clamps, the cock rings, and the vibrator. Slowly, he turned up the juice.
First, the nipples and the rings began to pulse in a rhythmic cycle, the current communicating through Thorne’s entire nervous system. Then, he slaved the prostate vibrator to the shock cycle. Master Danny watched with extreme pleasure as the professor’s body bucked and spasmed.
There was nothing Thorne could do; as far as he was concerned, this was pure witchcraft. The sensation was overwhelming, and as Danny dialed the intensity up and down, Thorne felt himself going crazy. His cock began leaking a steady stream of man-juice down his legs, flailing uncontrollably with every surge of the current.
Master Danny released the winch on Thorne’s back, sending his torso toppling forward until he hovered inches above the ground.
Simultaneously, he hoisted the leg winches, pulling Thorne’s legs apart and presenting his hole at the perfect height. Danny swapped the vibrator for a massive dildo, stretching the professor’s rear wide. He didn’t need lube; the hole was still slick with the gang’s leavings.
When Danny was ready, he moved in and fucked the professor roughly, slamming his nine-inch dick straight into the prepped opening. He couldn’t have cared less when Thorne began to wail.
He unfastened the gag and ordered, “Be quiet — or I will hurt you! Heck — I’ll send you straight to Hell. Or detention. Or whatever you teachers call it these days,” Danny joked gruffly.
As he railed the professor, Danny struck Thorne’s back and buttocks with a spiked paddle, leaving tiny puncture marks across the reddened skin. Just before his peak, Danny ripped the condom from his dick and moved to the main winch, lifting Thorne until he hung horizontally. Danny jerked himself off over the professor’s face before grabbing a handful of black hair and shoving his cock deep into Thorne’s mouth.
He choked the professor with his length, pinning the man’s head down with vicious force. As Thorne began to gasp for air, Danny finally filled his throat.
“And that, fucker — that is real chemistry!” Danny screamed down at him, his voice dripping with denigration. “Take it! Swallow that man-juice. Take it all — Swallow!”
• Time to head home?
As brutal as the treatment had been, both men seemed strangely satisfied — Danny by the way he had conquered his superior, and Victor Thorne by the way he had survived the onslaughts of the evening.
The twenty-three-year-old master dropped to his knees once he was spent, having gone all-out on the professor’s body. Rolling a cushioned bench beneath Thorne, Danny lowered him down and proceeded to untie the hemp ropes. As the restraints fell away, Danny began giving Thorne small, soft kisses all over his tormented back and buttocks, as if trying to soothe the very skin he had just destroyed.
Just before setting him loose, Danny handed the professor his torn pants and shredded shirt, along with a dirty old jockstrap and a piss-stained denim jacket. As Thorne struggled to dress his aching body, Danny walked to the bathroom, returning with a damp towel to clean the worst of the grime off the man’s skin.
“Want a lift home? Where do you live?” Danny asked casually.
Thorne looked at him, bewildered. He had expected many things after such a night, but he hadn’t expected the boy to offer him a ride.
The two of them walked out to Danny’s jacked-up pickup truck. Thorne quietly admitted he lived in the faculty apartment block on campus, explaining that he had been trying to find his way home when he took the shortcut into the alley. Danny laughed meanly as he pulled out of the lot and began driving in what Thorne thought was the wrong direction.
“You really need to get yourself a compass or a map — the campus is east of here, not west!” Danny mocked.
Thorne slumped in the passenger seat, realizing the ‘Mickey’ had turned him around more than he thought; he had walked out of the club and headed away from the university rather than toward it.
When they reached the faculty block, Thorne instructed Danny to park right in front of the main entrance. He climbed out of the passenger side without a word. Danny watched him through the windshield, expecting a thank-you or perhaps a final look of submission. He rolled down the driver’s side window as Thorne walked around the front of the truck.
Thorne stepped up onto the footboard, leaning his bruised face into the driver’s side window until he was inches from Danny. He looked the boy dead in the eyes before delivering a right hook to the jaw that Muhammad Ali would have been proud of.
The blow sent Danny’s leather cap flying into the footwell. Before the younger man could recover, Thorne reached into the cab, snatched the keys out of the ignition, and yanked the driver’s side door open.
• Getting his own back.
Thorne hauled the student out of the truck, locking him in a tight headlock. He nearly choked the boy as he marched him toward the apartment complex. The fresh air during the drive had cleared Thorne’s mind, and with his faculties returned, he wanted revenge.
He shoved the gasping Danny onto the couch and sat beside him.
“Do you still want straight A’s this year, boy?” the professor asked. Danny tried to scramble toward the door, but he found himself jerked back; Thorne had already snapped a pair of handcuffs around his wrist, securing him to the heavy frame of the couch.
“You’re not going anywhere, Bitch — not so much fun now that the shoe is on the other foot, is it? Now, answer me! Do you still want A’s this year?” Thorne had a look in his eyes that truly terrified Danny.
“Sir, I’ll do anything — I’m sorry — I really am — I — I —” the college boy stammered, his ‘Leather Master’ persona evaporating in seconds.
“That’s right — you WILL do anything I say! I am your professor, and I have no problem failing you from now until graduation,” Thorne laughed menacingly. “But I know what you could do to earn, let’s say, a C or a B-minus.”
“Oh, good God — I really need to keep my grades up, sir! I’ll do anything for you! But I need A’s!”
“Not a chance, Bitch! At best, you’ll get a B-minus from me — and that is IF you can deep-throat my balls dry! Now stop your whining and get to work — study time just got a heck of a lot harder!”
Danny pulled the professor’s dirty cock from the even nastier jockstrap and gagged himself on it, looking up with pleading eyes to see if he was pleasing Thorne at all.
“You’ve got to do a lot better than that, boy — D-plus, maybe!” the professor joked. “Fuck, my ex-wife could suck better than you, Bitch. Do better! — Ooh... Yeah... That’s it. Now we are getting somewhere.”
Danny pulled out all the stops and set to work. Thorne quickly got what he wanted, unloading his balls deep into Danny’s mouth. The release was the only thing Thorne had been missing throughout the entire ordeal.
He had pleased the thugs, he had served the burly leather men in the Blue Oyster, and Danny had taken his pleasure — but Victor Thorne had never been sent over the edge until now. And Danny did an adequate job of it.
As Professor Thorne finally uncuffed his student, he tossed Danny a dirty towel to wipe his face. “Okay — adequate,” the professor muttered out of breath and with a nasty grin, sending the leather boy packing with a mouth full of the finest chemical compounds.
Victor Thorne laughed to himself, “That’s the best blowjob you had since that Bitch left you — Heck no! The best one ever!”
The ‘straight man’ had enjoyed himself as he walked up the wrong alley. Thorne considered taking more walks on the wild side in the future. He had gotten one thing straight and two things queer that night, and Victor Thorne took the lessons to heart. He learned that he liked gay men much more than his ex-wife.
On the next exam Danny took, he received the ‘straight A’ he deserved from Professor Thorne.
• The End •
Thank you for reading this story.
Please give it a 👍 Like or a Comment if you are inclined to do so.
And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spilled cum! 😋
© StrykerJ – January-2025
Original uploaded: October 2019
