The Maintenance Man

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

Prelude to the Fuck Festival

Tied to a chair in my apartment: we were waiting for the pills to take effect, although we were already both very hard.

Our third time meeting. I hardly knew him.

And now totally bound and gagged, I was about to find out more about him.

My hands tied behind my back to a belt around my waist, while my arms were firmly tied around my chest. The ball gag was large and truly sealed my mouth: I could hardly make any noise for anyone to hear, not that it mattered: he timed our early morning event during a holiday. Many residents were away and now I was sitting, tied in a chair, with each of my feet tied to a separate chair leg, leaving my legs wide open for him to occasionally reach in at will, stroke my cock and squeeze my balls - “just to remind you you’re mine”.

I hardly knew him: and now he has me like anyone did never before.

He sat in front of me, wearing a t-shirt, his work boots and a tool belt, carrying all sort of things now being used on me: rope, ball gag, leather restraints - and now a timer.

He wasn't wearing anything below his waist.

His cock was hard - harder than I’d seen it before in our laundry room visits. It was also long and thick; this was no 9 inches; it was much more.

He caught me looking on at his cock; looking up he merely held his smile: it was a look of confidence, of knowing that I was right where he wanted me - and he has my ass in his target. I shook my head as if in denial; his smile got bigger as he reached down and slowly stroked his cock, letting me see what was in store for me.

It was a vicious cycle: the more I saw his cock, the more I squirmed and struggle to get free. The more I struggled and swim, the more turned on he got. We were feeding our passions. 

It was working up to a breaking point.

It got even more interesting moments later when he brought out a digital timer from his tool belt. Placing it down onto the small table adjacent to us, he set it for 10 minutes: “tell you what: if you can get untied or get your gag off, I’ll stop the timer and you can decide on what you want to do. We can go back to doing blow jobs and pieces of ass in the laundry room - or we can move on to something bigger and better.”

I noticed he watched my cock while I watched his cock - which was big and throbbing, fast beating in time to his excited heart; the pre-cum dripping out which he used to lube his cock. It was waiting - just for me.

I looked on, trying my bindings, twisting my wrists, moving my head back and forth trying to see if I could loosen the ball gag.

“Hm. No answer to my idea, eh?”

I called out  - "MMMMPPHH!   MMMPH! MPH!" as if to object, to try to say ‘let’s talk about this some more,’ but no: I was not in charge.

He was. Completely in charge.

“Well, okay; here we go.”

The timer started. He set it with seconds and hundreds of seconds going by in a flash.

“Pretty cool, eh? Watch that time flash by.”

I watched helplessly; the counting of the hundreds of seconds made the time go by quicker, the count down going fast, with the moment of truth coming ever closer. I then started to truly work on escaping; I knew it was more than just fucking that he had in mind for me. Calling out, throwing my head back and struggling on the chair, rocking, squirming, twisting about, moaning, trying to pull my legs closer together,…no good.

The building was silent: nobody was around. I continued trying to call out: "MMMMPH!  MMPH!  MMPH!" The desperation was obvious even through my gag - but it was going nowhere - save my captor, who enjoyed it.

Reaching over, he turned on my clock radio, turning up the volume. “Latch” was paying - and he was staring right at me: “how’s that song?” he said smiling, knowing that my calls for help were now even harder to be heard.

Bastard.

He smiled deeper, enjoying my situation, stroking his cock ever so slowly, careful not to let it shoot off. He murmured to me, "my problem is trying not to cum too quickly when I'm in you."

I thought to my myself: my problem is the more I try to get untied, the harder I'm getting. I was turned on like never before. 

The timer ticked on loudly over the sounds of my trying to call out, while the radio played the early morning music.

Even though his rock hard cock was pointing straight up solid and hard, looking closely I could see the cock moving in time to his heart beat. His heart was beating fast and strong, and his cock pulsated, seemingly knowing that soon it’ll be in me.

He then reached over to me and cupped my balls, squeezing them so tightly and then slowly stroked my hard cock: “so,… you’re kind of enjoying this!”

I had to admit, it was hot. I looked at him and then down at his cock: “it’s waiting for for you, but then again, I think you have a really nice one too,…” Suddenly kneeling down he proceeded to suck my cock. I try to open my legs wider, throwing my head back and calling out toward the ceiling: ‘Please Don’t stop!’ (came out as “MMPHH! MMPH- MPH!”)

“I love it; keep it up; it’s hot!” he said as he briefly lifted away from sucking me, then returning to run his tongue up and down my shaft, stopping to playfully wrap around the sensitive tip of my cock.

In moments, it was getting harder for me not to drop my load into is mouth; my feet tied wide open made it very easy for him to go in and reach into my inner thighs where he rubbed his hands back and forth, when not having a hand on my hard cock as he dived in and sucked my cock tip, went up and down my shaft, licked my balls and then repeated over and over. 

Nothing of me was protected; I was all there to take - and enjoy; I couldn’t stop him. 

Even though my feet were tied to the chair and my arms secured to the back of the chair, I found myself pushing my pelvis upwards, making it easier for him to really get in and to satisfy me. I found myself calling out more, not even sure what I was saying, if I was saying anything other than to just call out for the sheer pleasure and intensity of the moment.

I found myself trapped: not just bound and gagged, but trapped - like a moth to a flame, knowing that if I flew in too close I could be burned, but surrendering to the desire, circling around as close as I dare could. This is how I got here: bound, gagged, mercilessly teased and soon fucked for hours; unable to escape: torn between the joy of submission and the danger of being held totally helpless as a prisoner. I was conflicted: a part of me wanted this - but another part of me was afraid fo what he could do while I was bound and gagged.

I looked down and watched helplessly as his head moved up and down my cock, rubbing my thighs and fondling my balls, open to his will and total control.  Soon, he will be between my legs, shoving his cock in and out, fucking me with an intense strength and focus, while I can only struggle and call out for help that's not forthcoming; but I call out anyhow to express an uncontrollable desire of the flame that draws me me here. 

Soon, we will be moving about; me, with my hands tied behind my back and nude from the waist down, bending over on his command at any spot he desires to and take me from behind with total ruthlessness, satisfying his need while occasionally answering my call with my hard cock, by stroking me at will  - either with his mouth or with his hands - until I give him what I have. 

I knew that it won 't matter if we're alone doing this in an isolated room or place - or if he choses to have others watch on: as far as we were concerned, it was just us, making these moments between us even more hot. 

6 minutes and 10 seconds remaining before he gets inside of me.

He then stopped, leaving me hanging; my cock hard and dripping even more. I wanted release! I cried out in frustration and pulled as hard as I could on my bindings while twisting my head back and forth. Damn! I lost track of time while he pleasured me! I called out in frustration, “MMMMMMPH!! MMMPH!” The digit readout flashed the seconds by,…..

He figured we’d have to wait for about 20 minutes for the pills - the Viagra - to take effect.

He smiled at my discomfit: “Bindings are nice and tight, eh? Like I said, you’re not getting out of this until I’m done, and you're not getting anything until I shoot first.”

I looked at him with my pleading eyes, moaning quietly.

"No, no. I cum first. I'm in charge. And just to make sure you understand that,..." pulling something out of his tool belt, he then reaches over to me, grabs my balls, and then wraps a length of what looks to be a leather shoe string, and proceeds to tie it just around my balls, pulling it ever so slowly and carefully, firmly and tying it with a bowtie: "that you go. Now your balls are gifted wrap for me!" 

I cry out: "MMMMMMPH!  MMMMPH!"  while he replied with a chuckle, "I figure it's not too tight. But it sure keeps you in place, if you ever get too pushy." Leaning close to me, inches from my face, his lips very close to mine, he whispers as he runs his right hand over my newly bound - now even more sensitive - balls and hard cock: "I'm gonna fuck you nice and good, and long. You'll gonna give me what I what, when I want it and how I want it.  That's it. And if you're good, you'll be nice and satisfied." He slowly leans back, while slowly disengaging his hands from my hard cock and tender balls. I was already working up to dripping a load when he stopped just in time, leaving me to breath deeply and quickly.

I asked myself how much longer must this continue. I shook my head back and forth, while he just chuckled.

4 minutes and 34 seconds,…

"Times running out for you."

He promised a very hot time for the night: and now I was wondering what did I just get myself to?

To think it all started with a blow job in the laundry room, along with him fucking me last time - and now this: bound and gagged, with him looking on. I didn’t know him well at all. He was the maintenance man - and for this early morning hour of 3 am, he was wearing his tool belt, a t-shirt half ripped open showing his strong chest, a pair of work boots - and nothing else, save for his 9 and half inch cock. 

The pre-cum dripping out strongly; he wanted me - badly.

But I was dripping furiously as well. 

We were both already hard: but as he said, “I want this to last.”

There was only minutes remaining until I would be his - whether I wanted to or not. I kept looking over helplessly at the timer, struggling, trying to get untied, hoping that it would slow down! I keep calling out - but to no avail. I felt my pre-cum dripping down my cock, over the leather string tied around my balls and pooling on the chair where I was sitting. My inner thighs were getting wet and I could feel my heart beating fast, nearly to the point where I had a hard time hearing things going on around me; I could only hear the blood rushing in my head, the blood and heat working hard to keep my cock hard, to see if I could empty myself in a brief touch of ecstasy. It was overwhelming me; my blood pumping hard, my head slightly spinning and me begin total distracted while held tight and gagged well 

I was taken in the moment - a strong moment of desire, of want. I knew that If I came, I would then be able to hear more clearly, but now it all just melded together; the clock radio, the silence of the streets and the building; our breathing, his quiet voice telling me how I was going to get fucked well and good; my breathing and the sounds that my bindings and the chair I was tied to made as I tried to get free. 

"Three minutes and 45 seconds remaining,…I haven’t felt this turned on in a long, long time,” the said as he slowly stroked my cock, with me unable to stop him… He went down on me again, keeping me nice and hard and excited, but yet unsatisfied; my maddening desire kept in check by him. I wanted more than anything to just let go I was willing to give him what I had, but I knew that he was going to take it anyway, whether I liked it or not.

Would he actually fuck me and not satisfy me?

No; I'll still get satisfaction as I knew I'll shoot a load with - or without him.

The seconds tick to my getting forced dick.

I wanted relief: I was turned on like never before.

I looked over; his cock wasn’t 9 inches; it was at least 10 - if not more - inches. Are there more lies that’s he’s going to show me?

2 minutes and 23 seconds left before I’m his.

Must keep trying,….

No good!

He looks at me, smiling: “only two minutes to go. You know, you have to ask yourself: here we are, you're all tied up and out to get fucked by someone you hardly know. If anyone were watching, they'd probably think you're about to get raped.  But looking on, we all see your hard messy cock and it's obvious you want this. So, tell me: are you getting raped?"

I looked on and called out again, struggled even more. It was still hopeless. He didn't really care what I said. 

"Then again, when you think about it - doesn't matter what you think because I'm gonna fuck you whether you like to or not. So - yeah: I'm gonna rape you." Standing up in front of me, he held his cock proudly, rubbing it in front of me - a glorious 10 inches thick and hard. 

How did I get in this position: tightly bound and gagged, nude from the waist down: a prisoner of somebody I hardly know - somebody who’s now looking on at me, waiting for their time to fuck me good. But I was sure of one thing: he wanted to rape me. Didn't matter how I felt about it. But like that moth to the flame, I wanted this - especially as hard as my cock was, waiting for his touch and feel, coupled with my desire for his control and dominance - and the promise of sweet release!

Satisfaction in his hands, mouth and with his cock.

At this point I could only cry out in frustration and total helplessness as he announced: “1 minute and 40 seconds to go!”

"MMMMMMMPH!!!"

"This is gonna be so fucking hot."

I couldn't tell him that I agreed with him. 

I looked back how this early morning started; how we met this time outside my apartment and how he ambushed me,...