The Not-So-Straight Cop

My name is Kenny and I am a sex addict….  This is how I have to introduce myself at my weekly Lust Recovery (LR) meeting.  LR is meant to help Catholic men repair the wreckage caused by lust and enables freedom from sexual addiction.  Sex addiction is the active use of a sexual behavior, whether it is habitual masturbation, internet porn addiction, fetishes and/or behavior with self or others in a compulsive life-destroying pattern.  I have actually been diagnosed as having Hypersexuality which is a fancy term for a sex addict.  I joined the LR support group after I met my fiancé and decided to get help for my problem. 

Everyday I am horny.  All day, I think about sex.  I spend all my free time trying to hook up with woman at bars and searching for sex partners on dating sites.  I spend hours a day looking at porn including kinky stuff like BDSM.  I masturbate at least five times a day.  If I could, I would be a gigolo or porn star.  But there is not much of demand for a guy like me.  I am only 5’6” and I have what is considered to be “boyish good looks.”  I would say I look like a short and athletic Timothee Chalamet.  I have thick and long dark curly hair in what is called a curtain hair style, green eyes, hairless muscular body, and a fat boody.  I have been mistaken for an attractive lesbian and a teen boy.  I can remember the taunting from my friends in high school that if they had to had sex with another male, it would be me because I looked “pretty” and had a girl’s butt.  I did not take it at all as compliments.

It was not until I became a police officer in Biloxi, Mississippi that I really began attracting women.  I guess it was the way I looked in the uniform as well as using Dapper Dan to style my hair in a pompadour.  I had a lot of random sex with women including ones who offered blowjobs and/or anal sex for the exchange of not getting a traffic ticket or arrest for a misdemeanor offense.  I was out of control.

Then I meet Karen.  She is a beautiful med student.  She is petite, so my height is not an issue.  Karen is also very religious and would not commit to a serious relationship unless I got help for my Hypersexuality.  Karen was the first to educate me about my illness and gave me hope that it is treatable.  She recommended the LR support group at her Catholic Church and if that did not work, she would help me find a medical professional to prescribe a psychotropic medication since the underlying illness may be a mood or anxiety disorder.  After a few months after I began attending LR meetings, Karen noticed an improvement and proposed to me.

My sponsor in the LR support group is Ron.  He is in his mid-forties and even though he is old enough to be my father, we have a lot in common and actually became best friends.  Ron is a big man.  About 6’2”and a physically fit guy since he stays active as a successful contractor and works out everyday.  He has thick jet black hair with a little gray around his temples and dark brown eyes.  He joined LR many years for his sexual addiction because he almost got a divorce when his wife discovered he has spent their life savings on prostitutes.  I never understood why he would have to pay any woman for sex since he is good-looking and and his appearance screams masculinity.   His style includes tight jeans, button down shirts showing off his burley chest and western boots.  Ron has been on the straight and narrow for ten years and has a strong marriage.  He is a good role model for me.

One of the issues I addressed in a LR meeting is my craving for bondage and to be dominated.  I begged Karen to tie me spread eagle to the bed, verbally degrade me, inflict light pain and have sex with me.  She did and hated it!  I felt such a relief to talked about this matter with my fellow sex addicts.  One of the guys in the LR support group, Ted, could empathize with me since his weakness is a “femdom”, a woman who is a dominant partner in BDSM sexual activities.  Unfortunately, his wife is not  a femdom type.  Ted explained what worked for him to eliminate his yearning for BDSM was an aversion treatment which involved self-bondage.  He would restrain and gag himself and would apply some stimulating device(s) on his penis and/or anus while staying as a guest in hotel rooms during his business trips.  After he ejaculated, there was nothing he could do but endure hours of miserable milking until he was able to get released from his bindings.  It was pure torture.  Ted said this treatment is loosely based on  "Flooding.”  Flooding works on the principles of Pavlov’s classical conditioning - a form of conditioning where individuals change their behaviors to avoid negative stimuli.   After a few months, he was cured and has not desired any BDSM sexual activities.  

After the meeting, I spoke to Ted alone since I had many questions such as how did he restrain himself and how did he eventually get free.  Ted explained that he used Ice Warden Stainless Steel Self-Bondage Time Locks.  The lock measurements were about 4” overall length, the cylinder is 2” long, and little less than 2” in diameter.  He explained that all he had to do was fill the hollow cylinder chamber of the locks with water, insert the removable core shaft, and put the Ice Wardens in the freezer.  Once the water turns to ice, it would have a solid frozen core inside the lock. The lock will not release until the ice has melted.  Ted explained that once his favorite bondage equipment (cuffs, rope, suspension gear or any bondage fetish kink setup) were attached, he was forced to stay restrained until the locks thaws.  Ted offered his Ice Wardens, leather restraints, and all the other stuff he used during his “treatments.”  He did not need them since he is “cured.”  I immediately decided I wanted to try this aversion treatment.

Ron walked up at the end of our conversation.  He was concerned that self-bondage can be dangerous.  I reassured Ron that I would be fine.  My plan was to go to my family’s hunting camp, located  just 30 miles from the city limits, the last weekend of the month and try Ted’s aversion treatment.  Karen, her mother and sister were going to New Orleans, Louisiana to shop for a wedding dress that weekend.  Ron and I came up with a plan that he would call me Sunday evening and if I didn’t answer, he come to rescue me.

A little more than two weeks later, my day shift with the police department ended and my weekend trip to the hunting trip was about to begin.  During my shift with my partner, Bud, I shared my weekend plans.  I knew he would not judge me since we had shared stories of our sexapades and fantasies.  Bud said if it was that important, he would go with me and help me with the aversion treatment.  I thanked Bud for being a good friend, but I really thought this was something I should do alone.  He wished me luck when we departed the station.  I drove off in my Mustang with my travel bag, a bottle of Jack Daniels and Ted’s duffel bag of sex toys.

On my my way to the hunting camp, there was an emergency alert regarding an escape convict.  It was believed he may be in the vicinity of where my hunting camp is located.  I was not worried since there is a  gate keypad at the entrance of the property.

Once I was inside the hunting camp, I removed my law enforcement modular equipment tactical duty belt with a holster carrying my service weapon and a pouch designed to hold a pair of handcuffs and dumped it all, along with my wallet, on the kitchen table.  I went into the bedroom and put my bags on the dresser.  I removed my bulletproof vest, patrol boots and uniform.  Now in my black bikini briefs, black cropped T-shirt, and black boot socks, I fixed a few Jack and Coke cocktails, microwaved and ate a frozen dinner and watched television for a few hours.  I was so excited about tomorrow.  I wanted to tenderize my tube steak so badly.  I had sustained from masturbating for over a week in order for my treatment to be affective.  

I dumped the contents of the duffel bag onto the dresser.  There were four Ice Wardens Stainless Steel Self-Bondage Time Locks, wrist and ankle cuffs, short links of welded steel chains, multiple six to eight feet lengths of hemp ropes, black ball gag, padded leather blindfold, vibrating cock ring, leather paddle, duct tape, a handful of stainless steel spring snap hook, four small padlocks, bandannas and other stuff.  I filled the hollow cylinder chambers of the Ice Wardens with water, inserted the removable core shafts, and put them on the freezer.  I then went to bed.

Next morning, I did my morning routine that I call shit, shower and shave.  I looked in a full length mirror behind the bathroom door and like what I saw.  A muscular hairless body, small nipples, small patch of dark pubic area, 6” erect pale penis with a perfectly size mushroom tip and massive balls in a smooth ballsac.  Even though my penis size is of average size, it looks huge on my small muscular frame.  I turned to admire my backside.  A full butt and when I pull open my cheeks, I got a peek of my small pink starfish.  I did a little dance as I squatted, repeated hip thrusts and shook my buttocks.  I amused myself with my booty clapping.  I then flexed my muscles to admire my biceps, six pack abdomen, glutes as wells all the muscles groups in my legs.  I work out daily and I like the results.  What l learned by attending LR support groups is most male sex addicts are narcissistic and since their physical appearances are important, they work out excessively, uses a lot of grooming products and wear designer and/or flashy clothing.  An example is that I enjoy going to the beach wearing a white brief Speedo to show off my package and muscular physique.  I love the looks I get when I get out of the water and my skin tone shows through the nylon fabric as well as the visible outline of my pecker and two round balls.  Woman want me, men want to be me.  I like the tan line I have because of wearing a male bikini.  

I put on chunky and slouchy gray bed socks made from soft alpaca wool and white terry cloth robe.  My breakfast consisted of granola bars and Jack and Coke.  Well, a lot of Jack and Coke.  I am now drunk.  I attached red leather with black reinforced stitching cuffs on my wrist.  These cuffs used a locking buckle, so it added more security by placing a padlock through the buckle. There were D-rings attached to the cuffs.  I got the Ice Wardens out of the freezer.  There was a solid ring in both the lock and axle of the Ice Warden.  With the use of padlocks, I attached each solid ring on an Ice Warden’s lock to a D-ring on a leather cuff.  I attached the other ring located on the Ice Warden’s axel to a stainless steel spring snap hook.  I cuffed my wrist and locked in place.  The Ice Wardens with the snap hooks attached at the end were dangling from the D-rings of the cuffs.  I then slipped the vibrating cock ring on my semi-erect cock.  It was Bluetooth-controllable, so I set on a timer to turn on in 30 minutes and put on the autopilot mode so the sex toy had control of picking between three vibration intensities and eight patterns.

I removed my robe and slipped my sock feet into unlaced patrol boots.  I grabbed a step ladder, ball gag and blindfold.  I walked outside and felt the cool October weather all over body.  I walked about 20 feet where there was a pole-mounted deer hoist.  It is used to clean deer we had hunted.  It is made up of a boom having a front bracket, a rear retaining bar and a separate hand crank bracket-mounted winch.  The winch bracket is strapped onto the pole at a location below the hoist bracket.  A rope connected at one end to the winch is connected at the other end to a gambrel and is used to raise or lower an animal carcass using a pulley that is attached to the front tip of the V-shaped front boom bracket.  The gambrel featured a spreader bar at the center and a pair of prongs at either end.  We attach those prongs to deer’s legs between the tendons in the rear legs, holding the animal securely and spreading the legs apart for easy removal of the intestines.

My plan was to raise the gambrel to a height that was just inches from my extended arms while standing on the 4’ x 4’ square concrete slab underneath the hanging gambrel.  I did my best measurements which included the added inches for the Ice Wardens and stainless steel spring snap hooks.  I then stood on the step stool under the gambrel, gagged myself with the ball gag and blindfolded myself.  Without sight, I used my hands to find the prongs of the gambrel and looped the stainless steel spring snap hooks on the prongs and slowly lower myself down while holding the gambrel.  On my way down I kicked the step stool, sending it to the grassy area around the concrete slab.  When my arms were fully extended, I released the gambrel.  My measurements were slightly off since only the toes of my boots made contact with the concrete slab.  Damn math!  I could not reach the gambrel, so I can’t pull myself up.  I tried to see if I could remove myself from the gambrel, but no matter how I pulled, attempted to jump, and shake violently, I was not going anywhere.  My only hope for freedom is for the hardened ice in the chamber of the Ice Wardens to melts and released my arms.  It just dawned on me that I forgot to ask Ted how long does it takes for the ice to melt.  An hour, two, or will I be suspended the entire day.  I can’t yell for help (no one would hear anyway).  In hindsight, I probably should not have used the ball gag since it was uncomfortable and I am not sure if it added any benefit for the aversion therapy.  I tried to push the jumbo rubber ball out of my mouth with my tongue, but it did not budge.  All I see is darkness.  Knowing I was totally helpless, my cock started stiffening.  

Thirty minutes must have passed since the vibrating clock ring came to life.  The constriction of a cock ring, which strengthened my erection and boosted my sensitivity, essentially turn my dick into a vibrator.  The vibrations varied to a gentle buzz to the equivalent of a Corvette's V8 rumble.  That's a lot of extra “whooooaaaAAAAH!”  My testicles are now drawn tight and jiggling due to the vibrations.  The temperature outside was approximately 65°, but I was sweating.  I assume I was shiny and wet with sweat due to excitement of the situation and the warm alcohol coursing  through my veins.  Since I was gagged and there was no one within miles of me, I decided to do a little dirty talk in a third-person narration.  I said in a muffled voice, “Oh yea.  You’re a fucking stud!  Beautiful circumcised cock!  Your toadstool is nicely rounded and in perfect proportion.  Thick and nice slightly veined shaft.  Look at those giant nuts.  Yea, you know you love the feel of your heavy smooth sack.  You want me to fuck you?”  I began aggressively thrusting my hips, causing me to swing.  I panicked and my legs were flailing in an uncontrollable way.  I started spinning like a top.  Once I was able to get my toes to make contact the ground, I stopped the spinning.  Dizzy and drunk.  I started taking deep breaths to avoid vomiting.

I began thinking about Ted.  Ted is a tall handsome ginger in his mid-thirties.  I bet he is as hairless as me and trims his pubes.  Ted talked a lot about his sexapades in great detail during our LR meetings, including the difficulties he had with intercourse due to his thick girth.  I had a boner as he described he penis when he was sharing.  Ron gave me a displeasing look when he caught me rubbing my zipper snake as I was staring at Ted’s huge package.  Ted used the same vibrating cock ring that is teasing my pickle.  The cock ring was snug on me, so I can only imagine how it strangled his cock.  I didn’t even think about washing it before I used it; much less the ball gag that completely filled my humble trap.  I was imaging how seductive Ted must have looked when he was bound and gagged alone in his hotel room.  His arms were stretched above his head and secured to each end of the headboard with the use of the leather cuffs on my wrist, Ice Wardens and rope.  His legs are spread wide with rope tied to each ankle and the end of the ropes tied to the bed frame.  Ted’s genitalia exposed…wanting attention….steamy….wettish with precum!  I wondered if Ted was completely nude or wearing something, like the sexy black TNT socks he wore last week at our LR meeting with his low cut loafers that I noticed as he slipped his heels in and out of his shoes?  I wish I could have seen him while he struggled with his quivering member sticking straight up.  I wonder if Ted wished he could have stroked his cock, like I wish I could now.  What it must have looked like when he popped his cork and all that cock sauce shooting on his chest and then oozing down his cock onto the vibrator that I am wearing and….Wait!  What is going on!  I need to think about women!  I am not gay!  It is just that I am identifying with Ted since he used the same things I am using to restrain and pleasure myself.

I know.  I will think about the time Bud and I had a threeway.  Bud’s is a large man.  He is very handsome and looks like he stepped out of a recruiting poster for the U.S. Army with his short chopped black hair and muscular physique.  She was beautiful blond who Bud met at a bar.  He called me and said this whore wanted a threeway and was I interested.  Hell yes!  I rush over to Bud’s place.  The best was when we doubled penetrated her.  Doubled penetration is a sexual act in a threesome that includes two heterosexual males and a female.  The males enter the vagina and anus at the same time.  We were in Bud’s bed.  The whore straddled me in a reverse cowgirl position with my cock in her ass.  Bud enters from the front with his penis.  Double penetration is up close and personal, so you have to be comfortable with yourself and not be grossed out by two dicks touching.  Also, we could feel each other through the thin wall between ass and pussy.  He ejaculated first.  Bud winked at me and pulled out.  I felt his warm bull milk trickling down my testicles.  Bud is a gentleman and wanted to be a good lover so he began performing oral sex on the bitch while I was still fucking her in her ass.  I remembered how his tongue felt on my dick and balls…….  Wait!  Why was he licking me?  He didn’t mean to do it.  We were just having fun and he accidentally licked me as I bounced the bitch up and down my cock.  Bud is a great friend and partner.  He is also an excellent police officer.  He would not have intentionally committed sexual battery by using his tongue for unwanted touching and tasting of my intimate areas.  I remember the time Bud and I went to a strip club in New Orleans.  I was going to treat him to a lap dance, but I spent all my cash.  We got back to the hotel room, drunk and laughing.  Bud reminded me that I owed him a lap dance so I stripped down to my briefs and turned on some techno music on my iPhone.  I bent over, arched my butt and started wiggling.  He said, “Oh yea.  Twerk!  Twerk!  Come here.”  As I backed up to him where he was sitting in a chair, he grabbed my hips so my ass cheeks were grinding in his lap.  His hands moved to my inner thighs and I could feel his index finger on each side of my balls and thumbs caressing my cock….Oh shit!  That’s not gay, is it?  We were drunk and having fun.  He was pretending that I was a stripper.  Wait!  It is now making sense.  All the times he ogled me while we showered after working out, offering to massage my shoulders, participate in a threesome, copping a feel, offering to assist with my aversion therapy knowing I would be nude and helpless…. Oh shit!  Ok!  Ok!  Can’t think about it now.  Need to focus on Karen.  Oh no.  I am about to cum.  I don’t want the last vivid image in my mind to be of Bud…or Ted…or any man.

I heard sounds of breaking limbs and sounds of footsteps on leaves.  What or who is there?   What if it is a bear?  That happened once when we hung a deer overnight and found the deer carcass was chewed on by a large animal.  This situation was like a ritual scene from the a King Kong movie when the natives of Skull Island kidnap a victim and tie them tightly onto an altar and left for King Kong to devour.   A panic rushed through me when I thought about the escape convict.  Will I be abused by a criminal who has a vendetta against law enforcement or a sacrifice for a beast?  Regardless, I needed to be quiet and perfectly still.  Damn it!  The vibrating cock ring went into a highest vibration mode yet making a loud humming noise.  If it is a bear, my vibrating tube steak is about to be a tasty appetizer.  Whatever it is, it is within inches of me.

All the sudden, I heard the creaking of the winch and my toes were being lifted off the ground.  I kicked wildly, loosing my boots.  It had to be a person, but who?  I yelled for help, but there were only muffled noises.  Now I know the ball gag was a bad idea.  I heard footsteps leaving and the front door of the hunting camp opening and closing.  Please!  Please!  Melt ice, melt.  

Within minutes, the person returned.  Again, I kicked wildly, but did not connect with the person.  All the sudden, I felt a noose around my ankle and it tightened as I tried to pull away.  The person tied the other end to the pole of the deer hoist.  The same thing happened to my other ankle and the other end was tied to tree directly across from the pole.  I am now about three feet off the ground, hands bound above my head, legs spread wide and my toes pointed inward.  My cock still erect, vibrating and leaking precum.  I wanted so badly to cover my privates with my hands, but that was not possible.  It was like I was challenging this person to a fencing bout with my my pork sword.  I heard what sounded like photos being taken with a cellphone.  How humiliating!  A police officer bound and gagged.  All the people I told that I was going to experiment with self-bondage will just tell me that it was my fault that I am now a hostage.  For what?  Robbery, murder and/or sexual assault?  Maybe it is just a joke.  Who did I tell off my plans?  Shit!  Many people!

Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  What the fuck!  I was being spanked with a leather paddle.  He must had gotten into the BDSM supplies.  The sting of the paddle was intense.  I was pleading for the paddling to end with soft whimpers.  As if the assailant understood me, I heard him drop the paddle on the ground.  He began rubbing my buttocks.  It was soothing.  I am going to be molested!  I don’t know why, but what came to mind was a Hustler magazine’s character know as Chester the Molester.  The premise of the strip was a tongue-in-cheek take on a man, Chester, who was interested in sexually molesting women and prepubescent girls.  From this point on, the unknown assailant is known to me as Chester.  I am Chester’s unwilling victim in a sexually compromising position.  At least the vibrating cock ring was now in a low setting and I was not feeling that I was about to cum.  But the weird thing is that I wanted to cum.   

Chester then spread my ass cheeks and shoved his face in between.  He was not clean shaven and his whiskers scratched my baby-soft bum.  I shook my head violently.  No!  No!  Please! You don’t want to do this.  Let’s talk!  However, all he heard was, “Num.  Num.  Eeeeh.  Ooh mmmuuum.  Mmppphh.”  Damn  this gag!  Then I felt his tongue lapping my log chopper.  Oh.  Ooohh.  Uuuuuhhh!  It was amazing.  I never would have guess that my asshole was an erogenous zone.  He is tossing my salad and there is nothing I can do to protect my back door.  Chester‘s tongue narrowed to a point and he was now using his tongue to probe my clinch blowhole.  His hands are caressing my gluts, thighs, and calves.  His fingers then travels to my soles of my socked feet and he begins slowly scratching with his nails.  Oh shit!  Oh shit!  Only very few people knows that I had always wanted my feet to be tickled.  I know that I am most ticklish on the bottoms of my feet, I guess because of all the nerve endings.  I remembered when I was in college, my roommate and wrestling teammate, David, tickled my foot and I experienced tingling in my  penis.  It occurred while we were practicing our wrestling moves in our dorm room.  For whatever reason, we stripped to our underwear.  David executed a spladle wresting move.  He trapped and split my legs while we were on the ground.  He used his legs to immobilize my right leg and right arm, used his shoulder to pin my left arm and one of his arms to secure my left leg.  My left foot was pressed against the side of his head.  The back of my head was resting on his abdomen.  I think I felt the tip of his penis is poking my neck.  David is a beautiful black man.  His body is a work of art, just like you see in statues.  He loves being nude and showing off his uncut slong with just the dark pink of his tip exposed and his enormous hairy gonads.  As he tightens the hold, my hips are lifted off the floor and my head is pushed forward until my jiggling bulge less than six inches from my face.  My legs are being stretched in a way that is extremely uncomfortable, painful and rather humiliating.  To add to my embarrassment, I watch myself pitch a tent.  (Not an uncommon occurrence when wrestling.  Our coach explained that it had to do with testosterone, adrenaline, blood flow, and friction.)  With a free hand, David mercifully tickled the sole of my foot closest to his head.  I am laughing hysterically and begging him to stop, especially since I now have to take a piss.  He doesn’t stop and I watch a small yellow stain form on my white Jockeys,  The moisture clings to my mushroom tip.  I strained to stop the flow of piss.  David did a quick wrestling oil check (oil check involves a wrestler driving one or more fingers into the anus of the other wrestler as a means to shock, subdue, or gain an advantage) with his hand previously ticking the sole of my foot which startled me.  Golden rain began soaking my briefs and I started yelling obscenities.  Due to fear that others in our dorm would hear my screams, David covered my mouth with his hand.  I am soaked and pissed (literally).  David apologized profusely, but would not let me loose or remove his hand until I calmed down.  I did calm down and actually started laughing.  No harm, no foul.  I was hoping to get my revenge one day, but David was bigger and a superior wrestler.  I really enjoyed the way I felt in his arms…..  Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Again, I am thing about a guy in a gay way.  Regardless, I now realize that due to the tickling and loosing my concentration, I was not clinching my ring piece and I now the assailant’s tongue was inside me.

Here I am.  Hung up like a deer to be cleaned, an erect and vibrating cock, being tongue fucked, and struggling to stop the tickling attack on my flexing feet.  I think Chester is loving my muffled screaming and knowing he has total control.  My arms are beginning to throb.  

Next thing I know, the tickling stopped and Chester moved away from me.  I can tell something is moved inches away from my face and I heard distinctive shutter clicks.  Photos being taken?  The next thing I hear is something like ketchup being squeezed out of a bottle.  He is now inches away and a hand goes between my legs and I feel his middle finger pressed against my unprotected anus.  His finger is coated with lube and he begins entering me.  “Ouch!  Have mercy on me.  Please stop! No!  No!  It is too much.  Aaawwwww!”, I said.  However, my emotional request sounded like a little girl having an orgasm, “Hhhuum.  Uh mmmm.  Hhhhhhh.  Aw huumm urchin. Uh. Uh. Uh.”  My poor virgin hole. I never even let a doctor do this to me.  

Then to my surprise, Chester licked my dome and nibbled it with his teeth.  He flicked my dick hole over and over with his wet tongue.  All the while, his finger continues to penetrate me.  Soon he had his entire middle finger in my ass and the way he hooked his finger and was jabbing around, I knew he was searching for my prostate.  I have heard from some of the members of the LR group that they have had their prostates massaged and had p-spot orgasms, which supposedly has a unique sensation different from regular penile orgasms.  I had desperately wanted to experience a p-spot organism, but not like this.  Not against my will!  Not by this fucking rraaaaapppppiistt!  Chester found my prostate, which I heard that if your penis is erect, it is easier to find because the gland swells and shifts position just slightly to a more backward position. The massaging motions felt almost like my penis was being stimulated from the inside out.  I saw stars in the darkness of my blindfold.

Chester slowly takes my tip in his mouth.  He began to move his head back and forth taking a little more of me into his mouth on each thrust.  Since I was restrained with my hands above my head and my legs spread, my pecker was lacking protection from danger from being grawed or in this case, against a sucky fucky.  Chester’s mouth was so warm.  A slow and tender blow job, the rapid pulses of the vibrating cock ring and the stimulation of my skeet machine was giving me intense amounts of pleasure.  In my mind, my prostate was working overtime making tons of viscuous fluid of semen.  As the fluid builds and expands my prostate, it gives more surface area for Chester to poke.  He has a sweet and hot fucking rhythm going and before long, he was taking it all the way in.  I could hear Chester gagging a little as my cockhead punched into his throat, but his motion and rhythm didn’t change.  I have never been stimulated orally like this before.  It was the best blowjob ever!  Every so often, his cheeks would brush my thighs, or my scrotum, and I’d feel a rough, sand-papery scrape… his beard stubble.  It was a reminder of the masculinity of the person giving me head, and it only made me harder.  But why?  Chester was sucking my cock and he playing havoc with my male g-spot.  I should be sick to my stomach.  I am so confused.  I am having feelings that should not be natural.  I should be terrified, humiliated, and angry.  Not feeling ecstasy, sexy and need to be closer to my captive.  Chester begins using his free hand to caress my balls.  It was too much.  I think I am about to cum.  As the sensations heighten and build to a climax point, I start leaking, possibly prostatic milk, which is usually a good sign a prostate orgasm is about to happen.  Oh!  Oh!  A full-body sensation radiated through my body.  It felt like my entire body was orgasming.  All I could do was scream helplessly as my dick discharged thick juice into Chester‘s hungry mouth.  The wave of fluid lasted for nearly two minutes and the stream never lessened.  He continued to suck, greedily drinking from my faucet.  The noise of slurping and growling of the cum guzzler drowned out any noise I was making.  Chester continued to work his finger in and out of my tight, puckered asshole.  He maintained the right curve in his thrust to hit his prostate every time.  He had given up sucking to watch me slip into the throws of yet another orgasm.  I assume the the first ghost load was a prostate orgasm since it was more full-bodied and “eyes rolled back” situation.  This orgasm was localized to my genitals.   Hhhhhuuuuuuu!  I arched my back.  I am sure the first thick wad from my purple-headed yogurt slinger gave Chester a nice facial.  His mouth latched on bellend and let my baby-making juice fill his mouth.  He again backs away and I listen to him swish and swallows as if my jism was fine wine.

I am hanging limp and savoring the enhanced satisfaction that lingers following sexual activity.  Shortly thereafter, the vibrating cock ring kicked in to the highest setting.  Oh no.  As the post-orgasm vibration of the rubber ring around the base of my stiffy pulsates, it began to tickle as hell.  I sway my hips as if to shake off the now torture device, but it is useless.  It will remain in place and keep me hard.   I feel a pressure in my bladder, possibly due to my swollen prostate.  I want to take a piss, but can’t for various reasons.  As Chester listens to my muffled laughs and screams, he decides to add to my misery.  He walks behind me.  His middle finger is inserted in my ass again and he begins to jab my swollen walnut.  Based on what I know, urinary flow can be impeded when the prostate is enlarged, so directly massaging it may help reduce the swelling.  The prostate sits at the base of the urinary bladder, and part of the urethra passes through it.  Now that he is stimulating it, I can feel can feel contractions in my bladder.  No!  No!  No!  I feel like I have to pee.  My poor bladder is full of alcohol.  I have a shy bladder and usually find it difficult to urinate in front of others.  However, I did lose control in college while I was in an inescapable wrestling hold and being tickled.  I am now in my head and thinking about David.  I imagine it is David, wearing his yellow wrestling singlet, massaging my prostate and tickling my socked foot.  Wait!  It is Chester who is now using his other hand to tickle the sole of my left foot.  The stimulating and tickling resulted in a forceful urine "ejaculation".

I am left alone as I continue to drip fluids from my dick and a few minutes later, Chester returned.  He began turning the crank of the winch and I am lowered until I am standing on the tips of my toes.  My legs are still stretched wide.  He attaches a slave collar (was in Ted’s bag of goodies) that buckled in the back and had a D-ring by the buckle.  I felt something cold swaying across my back.  I guessed it was one of my welded steel chains that he must have attached to the D-ring on the back of the collar with the use of one of the extra stainless steel spring snap hooks.  Chester reaches up to my right hand and I can feel something cold around my wrist.  Click!  Click!  Click!  Instantly, I knew it was a handcuff.  Was it mine or Ted’s handcuff?  If mine, then that means he found my service weapon.  On cue, the barrel of my pistol was pressed against my temple.  Shit!  It was his way to let me know that if I resisted, fought, and/or tried to escape, he would put a bullet in my head.  I won’t fight!  Not a fair fight if I can’t see or have the use of all my extremities.  Next, he unlocked the padlock securing the leather cuff to my wrist.  In a quick move, Chester pulls my right hand behind my back and clips the middle link of the handcuffs to a steel spring snap hook affixed to the end of the steel chain.  He releases my left hand from the leather cuff, bends my hand behind my back and cuffed my wrist.  I wished Chester would have at least used one of my hands to remove the vibrating cock before being secured behind my back.  Now I know what Ted meant when he said suffered to continue to be  stimulated with this mother-fucking pleasure-delivering device after he did his rope show and how his cock just started dry heaving when he had no more man chowder inside him.  My arms were like wet noodles since my biceps were fatigue.  My palms are facing out and my cuffed wrist are resting on the middle of my back.  He double locks the handcuffs.  The double locking feature allows you to lock the cuffs down to prevent a detainee from closing the cuffs too tight on the wrist.  So, knowing to cuff palms out and double locking would lead me to believe Chester is a law enforcement officer.  Bud?  I am hoping it is him.  Nothing would make me happier if he is standing there, nude, with his chest, arms, legs and ass covered in light fur.  He was just helping with my aversion treatment, right?  Maybe we can jerk each other off.  I would like his thick cock in my hand, jerking it, watching his scrotum jelly spew all over place….  What the fuck am I’m I thinking?  He just raped me!  Is it rape if only fingered fucked?  Sucked off?   I said, “Bud.  Bud.  Is that you?  I’m not mad.  Get the vibrating ring off my shaft and let me loose.”  Fuck!  I forgot I was gagged.  The noise I made was like, “Ud.  Ud.  Hhuumm.  Aawww.  Mmmuuhh.  Oooohh.”  Wait!  A convict also would know how to use handcuffs!  What if this guys is some serial killer?  Or it could be someone who is a BDSM fanatic.  Ted?

My feet are untied.  I can run, but I can’t see.  Chester grabs my shoulders from behind and forces me to walk.  An unexpected surprise was Chester was massaging my aching shoulders.  I walked through my piss on the concrete slab and the dewy ground.  The bottom of my socks are soaked.  I was made to walk up the steps to the hunting camp and through the door.  I could hear him locking the door.  He continues to guide me into the den area.  It is completely silent except the humming noise of the vibrating cock ring.  Chester pulls me from behind into his chest and begins massaging my chest.  He is a big man.  Not fat, but muscular.  My fingers brushes his groin area and I feel his baby arm through his pants.  Chester finds my nipples and begin rolling them between his thumbs and index fingers.  He forces my head to the side with his face as he begins to nibble my neck.  I unconsciously moan as I was enjoying the attention and the vibrating ring was no longer irritating me; but pleasurable.  I was writhing in his arms.  I stood on my toes and began grinding my buttocks in his crotch.  This must have pleased Chester as his schlong continued to grow and he was now biting my neck roughly.  He reached down to my baloney pony, turned off and slid the snug vibrating cock ring from my dick and gave me some lovetugs.  

Chester moved away leaving me standing alone.  I could hear him taking a piss in the bathroom. I was shocked by my behavior.  I acted like a horny teenage girl.  Chester the Molester returned and was behind me.  He began removing my ball gag.  I believe he is nude.  I felt his erect nipples brush against my shoulder blades as he pried the thick ball gag from my mouth and I felt his erect penis with a little dew dripping from his piss slit in the top of my crack.  Chester made me get on my knees.  He moved a dining room chair in front of me and sat down.  This is my chance to reason with him.  I said, “I don’t know who you are, but if I did, I would not care.  I won’t call the cops!  You know I am a cop and wouldn’t never want anyone knowing what happened.  I mean, it is sort of my fault.  Anyone who found me hanging naked, gagged and blindfolded would have assumed I wanted to be raped.  No.  Not rape.  That is not what I mean.  I mean, have fun.  I mean, I forced a lot of woman to let me screw their ass, but it was fun for all of us.  Oh shit.  I didn’t mean I want you to fuck my ass.  I mean, part of self-bondage is hoping to be found and have fun.  It looked like I wanted to have fun.  Well, not fun, but experiment.  Yea.  experiment.  It was a good experiment.  You know.  I mean, I cummed a lot.  So….mmmuuupphhh.”  I guess Chester was tired of me talking so he shoved his tallywacker in my mouth.  Before I could move my head in order to remove it from my mouth, he grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled toward him and forced his dick deep into my mouth.  The action caused me to gag, but he paid me no mind.  Ok.  I can do this.  Sucking cock does not mean I am gay.  In fact, a lot of make sex addicts are comfortable in participating in same-sex activities when there is no female available or straight men who are gay-for-pay.  I have to do this to possibly save my life.  I bobbed my head up and down while using my tongue to cradle his veiny meat.  It tastes like sweet musky scented skin.  In addition, I was surprised with a few drops of briny fluid.  Not sure if the dick drip was droplets of urine or precum.  I prodded the head of his dick, flicking his dick hole over and over with my wet tongue.  He let out a loud moan.  I don’t hesitate another second, I plunge my mouth down onto his cock until my lips were buried in his pungent pubic hair.  I felt his cock push down into my throat until I can no longer breathe.  Chester began forcibly thrusting his erect penis in and out of my mouth.  His balls thumping my chin.  I wanted so badly to keep only the head of his cock in my mouth and with one hand, pump his shaft while fondling his ball with my other hand.  However, my hands are firmly cuffed behind my back.  Chester is in control.  He palmed the back of my head and I moved my head back and forth in concert with his forward thrusting.  This was a noisy blowey.  Smacking, gagging, and slurping.  Chester’s penis begins to pulsate and I know he is about to cum.  The thought of Chester cumming in my mouth seemed disrespectful.   I try desperately to get his chubby out of his mouth, but my head is held tightly in place.  I have no choice but to allow Chester to climax in my oral cavity.   Salty glue begins to fill my my mouth, some went down my throat and some was pouring out the corners of my mouth.  It was not bad tasting at all.  In fact, I sort of liked it.  I hope Chester will return the favor and suck on my sperm worm.  

Chester gets up and begins walking away.  I yelled “Hey!  Need a little help here.  Can’t just leave me here with a boner.  At least, let me rub one out.”  I can’t believe that I want to cum again so soon.  He returned and he began wiping sperm off my face and chest with a damp small piece of soft fabric.  It was my designer bikini briefs I left on the floor.  It was damp since Chester the Molester must have used it to clean his cock snot left on him.  Just I was about to request a blow and go, the briefs were shoved in my mouth.  “Hhhuuummmpphh!”  I heard the ripping of duct tape and several pieces were wrapped around my mouth.  I have lost my ability to talk.  Damn it!  Damn it!  What made me think there would be any type of reciprocity?  I should have used my skills as a hostage negotiator to reason with this guy and get myself released.  Instead, I was begging to be sexually assaulted again.  Is this an example of Stockholm Syndrome?  Click!  Click!  What is that sound?  I know the sound handcuffs make when being fastened and the sound my cellphone makes when I take photos.  It sounded like my iPhone. 

Chester helped me up on my feet.  He pulled me up by my cuffed wrist, forced me to sit on one of my Colonial-era designed antique dining chair and forces my arms around the back of the ladder back.  He then tied the ends of hemp rope around each ankle, passed the other ends between the seat and bottom back slat, pulled tightly so each foot is pulled up and backwards and tied the other end of the rope around each ankle.  My knees are bent backwards, legs straddling the square shape seat and feet about six inches off the floor.  My hips are trust forward and there is easy access my asshole; if he so desires to finger me again.  The knots around my ankles are are impossible to reach with my hands that are in the middle of the back of the chair.  Chester takes another piece of hemp rope which he ties one end to the middle of the cuffs, passed the other end under the seat of the chair and began tying the other ends around my ballsac.  He tied a knot behind my scrotum, pulled the remaining rope in the middle of my ballsac, separating my stones, and wrapped the rest of the rope around my cock and ballsac.  After he tied off the rope behind my ballsac again, it left my cock pointed upward and my separated twins pointing forward, almost in a ninety degree angle.  It is a classic cock and ball bondage technique.  Now if I try to move my hands, it will cause my family jewels to be pulled.  Chester is now behind the chair and his fingers attacks the soles of my flexed feet.  Without thinking, I jerk my hands up and balls make a thud sound as they slap the seat.  Ouch!  He then walks in front and begins pawing at my balls like a cat playing with a dangling toy.  He is amused as my swaying schweddy balls.  Finally, he squeezed my bound balls and I thought they would pop out of my skin.  Click!  Click!  I heard him walk away and it sounded like he was in the bedroom.  Minutes later, I heard him snoring.  The son-of-a-bitch is sleeping, leaving me tied up with blue balls!  Literally, I am sure they are blue.

I wiggle and flex my feet to see if there is any give to the rope binding them to the sides of the chair.  No luck. I wish I could see what I looked like.  Chest bowed out, nipples red and swollen, hair tussled and draping the blindfold, and silver duct tape wrapped over my underwear-full mouth.  I would love to be able to see how it looked with rope tied around my ankles, doubled knots, and my feet dangle helplessly inches from the floor on each side of the seat.  My wrist cuffed behind my back.  All my muscles straining.  Naked except slouchy gray bed socks.  It is like Chester owns me, like a life-size sex doll.  Shit!  I am just getting harder and harder.  It causes the rope around my cock and balls to get tighter and tighter. 

An hour later, I hear Chester the Molester wake up.  He approaches me and just stands there for about five minutes.  Is he leering at my body…my tone body…my defenselessness body…my veiny penis oozing precum?  Is he proud of his accomplishments of dominating me, forcing me to cum and piss and humiliating me?  Is he touching himself?  I was breathing heavily.  Waiting for another awesome hummer.  I wag my tied up dick and testicles.  I said, “Suck my dick!  You stupid fucker!  Of course he would not understand my muffled demands, but he knew I meant business.  If he doesn’t, I will…I will…I guess nothing.  I forgot that I was in no position to make demands.  Without warning, he pinched my nose with one hand and cupped his other hand a round my head.  I am unable to breath through my nose and mouth which is sealed with duct tape.  I try to move my body wildly, but can’t make any significant movements to break his grip on my nose or escape my bonds.  Just before loosing consciousness, he releases my nose.  Is he just a sadist and gets sexual gratification in inflicting physical and/or psychological pain?  Is he going to kill me?

Chester’s mouth finds its way to my right nipple.  He began sucking and biting it.  I bent my head down and my nose was in his hair on his head.  It was thick, soft and smelled like the old school barbershop powder.  With his other hand, he began rubbing and pinching my left nipple and areola area.  From near death to nipple stimulation.  Then Chester’s mouth began traveling down my chest, kissing it, tonguing my navel and ending at the tip of heat-seeking moisture missile.  My tip enters his warm and wet mouth.  He began slowly stroking my shaft while sucking the precum from my urethra.  What a fucking tease!

Chester untied the rope around my ankles as well as the rope around my family jewels.  Ooooohhh.  I feel stinging in my privates as flood starts flowing freely.  He removes the rope attached to the handcuffs.  What now?  

As I stand there, I feel the handcuffs push far down my wrist and the familiar leather cuffs being attached above the handcuffs.  I feel a cold sensation on my back so I know it is an Ice Warden attached in the middle of the leather cuffs.  The handcuffs and collar are removed.  He then attaches leather cuffs to my ankles but I can’t spread my legs since they are attached.  An Ice Warden must be connecting the ankle cuffs also.  Based on the noises made as I test the bonds, I can tell the padlocks are in place.  He must had frozen the Ice Wardens while we were inside.  There is nothing I can do until the Ice Wardens melt.  Click!  Click!  Click!

Chester picks me up, carries me to the bedroom and throws me on the bed. I guess he is going to leave me bound, gagged and blindfolded on the bed as he runs off.   Hopefully, he runs off.  Please leave my service weapon, badge and cuffs.  Take all my money.  Just go.  Wait was is that smacking and squishy sound?  Is he applying lube to his cock?  I start flapping like fish out of water and screaming in my gag.  The cum and saliva drenched bikini briefs is a much more effective gag.  I know what is coming and I felt as if I was going to have a panic attack.  Chester grabbed between my restraints on my wrist and lifts straight up.  Wack!  Wack!  Wack!  I am struct hard three times on my well-shaped buttocks with a leather paddle.  That is going to leave a bruise!  It is clear that the more I resist, the more pain I will have to suffer.  If I resist, he can just prevent me from breathing again, loose continuousness and fuck me anyway.  Fuck!  Fuck!  He could take breath play to the point of death by pitching my nose again, tie a plastic bag around my head or choke me and then fuck my lifeless body.  Women and faggots loves to be butt fucked.  Right?  I need to make sure I am the best butt slut he ever had so he not kill me.

Chester pulls me up from the waist.  My head is resting on a pillow, shoulders and knees supporting my weight on the bed and leaving my ass propped up.  My pink winkin' stinkin' starfish is fully exposed and clenching.  I don’t know if the contractions of my anal sphincters was caused my fear, a reaction to the cool air flowing between my sweaty cheeks and across my pucker hole or the position of my body.  Regardless, it was like it was making a come-hither motion and beckoning Chester the Molester to enter my back door. Click!  Click!  Click!   His mouth made contact to my asshole, kissing it slowly and with tenderness, making me feel wanted.  Then the kissing became more passionate and his tongue penetrated my anal canal. 

Chester removed his face and began using his fingers and lube to loosen me up by applying the “butt clock technique” that I heard about in a LR meeting.  Think of the anus as a circular clock.  Chester was using this technique by putting his lubed-up finger into my hole.  He presses laterally at three o'clock, for fifteen to thirty seconds and then the same at nine, twelve and six o'clock.  My tiny little circle started opening up magically.  It was as if Chester’s finger was a key to my ass lock.  He straddles my hips and I froze as I felt his enormous head rubbing my ass crack and then pushing at my booty hole.  "Noooooo!!!!!!  No fucking way man!!!!!  It won’t fit!!!!!   You’ll spilt in me half!!!!!!   Your cock barely fit in my mouth!!!!!.”, I yelled in my gag knowing it was futile.  As Chester began inserting, I started bearing down.  He continued making a grinding motion, opening the little orifice more, until the tip of his penis is in me, and my ring piece squeezed around the neck of his glans.  It is all over.  There was nothing I could do to prevent Chester from entering my back door.  

At a snail’s pace, Chester the Molester shoved in what felt like a limitless cock in my ass.  I could tell he was loving the resistance and the incredible tightness of my clenched hole.  He got even harder inside me.   Chester broke down my resistance and he was getting deeper inside me.  He slapped my taut muscled ass checks.  Chester’s weight of his body forces me flat on my stomach.  He was fully inside me.  Thankfully, Chester did not move at all for a minute.  It gave me time to take a few breaths and relax.  Suddenly, he torqued, twisted, pulled all the way out and plunged back into my tight hole in one shove.  The pain was immense in the beginning of the fudgepacking.

Chester got into a rhythm as he fucked me like I was a little anal bitch.  My fat ass was shaking like jello.  I tried to be stoic through the first part of the brutal rape, but when he was balls deep; I would let out a grunt each his balls hit my taint.  I am powerless and It was quite clear I was nothing more than just a warm sleeve for his manhood.  The pain started to ease.  I don’t think anything tore.  As they say, one up the bum no harm done!  I kept visualizing in my head that was being fucked by different men in my life, like Ted, Bud, David and Ron.  Ron?  That is crazy?

Once I surrender to my fate of being raped, I noticed his invading hard cock would rub a place inside my ass chute that caused an incredible intense sensation different from the horrible pain.  My prostate is getting a good old massage.  I can feel myself go semi-hard.  His thrust were causing friction between my cock and the mattress.  A steady steam of sticky fluid is flowing out my pee-hole.  Chester is making long, low sound expressing sexual pleasure and I am making the similar sound expressing physical suffering and sexual desire.  I wanted to please my rapist so I tried my best to control my external sphincter and pelvic floor muscles, so I could apply pressure around Chester’s penis.  Some thirty minutes later of shoving his huge cock in and out of my poop hole, like a fuck machine, Chester grunted loudly several times, made five piston-like deep thrusts, and shot a huge thick load deep into my ass.  I am close also.  I beg, “Keep going.  I need you to keep making weiner chili.  I need, I deserve, to cum.  I’ve been a good boy.”  Chester the Molester simple chuckles at me due to my muffled begging and gets off me.

I hear Chester dress and collects his things.  I raised my hips and shook my ass to tempt him for more angry gay butt sex.  I can’t explain it, but I didn’t want it to end.  He approached me and I feel him press a tip of an object against my butthole.  I remember a pink prostate massager in Ted’s duffle bag of sex toys.  All I can think is that this sex toy had been up Ted’s butt and now it is about to be in mine.  He begins to apply pressure and the tip penetrates with ease due to the lube and warm sperm inside me as well of the fact my sphincter muscles were still loose from just being fuck for more than half an hour.  With little effort, I was plugged.  Chester the Molester turned it on.  The bottom part starts stimulating the erogenous zone between my testicles and anus. The bulbous top deep inside is vibrating my prostate. There was nothing I could do.  I wanted to jack myself off so bad.  He flips me over and places the vibrating cock ring on my growing penis and turns it on.  I am squirming in ecstasy.  I want to put on a show for Chester.  I wonder if he is admiring his conquest.  He should be proud that he popped my cherry and I am full of his baby batter.  Chester has one last feel of my chest, ballsack, and thighs.  He took a few minutes fondling my balls full of cum. I bet he like the smooth and squishy ballsac.  He gave me a passionate kiss over my gag.  Click!  Click!  Click!

Then he leaves.  I hear the front door open and close.  I screamed as loud as I could, begging him to stay, to untie me, remove my gag, and take off my blindfold.  I wanted to explore his body.  I wanted to do a little tongue wrestling.  I wanted to know Chester’s identity.  No one could hear my yelling.  A few minutes later, I experienced powerful and highly pleasurable pelvic muscle contractions.  “Hhhhhhuummm.  Hum.  Uuuuhhh.  Uuuuuhhh.  Mmmmmmppphh!”  I bust a nut and I am sprayed with my own jism across my chest and face.  I can also tell there is cock snot in my hair.  Seconds later, I am back to reality and become fearful of my life.  What if the rapist returns?  He could easily kill me and throw my body in the deep stream behind the hunting camp.

I struggle to get free, but there is no way to loosen the leather restraints.  I need keys.  Also, I need to get the tight vibrating cock ring off.  I tried to reach around to it but it is out of reached of my restrained hands.  Also, it is keeping me hard so I can’t rub it off.  Next, I try to remove the prostate massager.  I can reach it, but can’t quite get it totally out of me.  Each time I get it out except for an inch or so, I realize it is far as I can pull it out with my bound hands.  When I lose my grip, it just slips all the way back in my boy pussy.  I need to give up and find the keys.  I get myself off the bed, hop over to my dresser.  My cock, balls and ass cheeks bounced as I hopped.  Chester’s nut butter oozing from my swollen poop shoot.

I  began brushing my face across the top to see if the keys are still there.  I didn’t find the keys, but I felt my cell phone.  I need to call 911!  But how?  As I was pondering this, while suffering from the irritating tickling of the damn vibrating cock ring and prostate massager, the phone began ringing.  What luck!  Please!  Please!  Let the face identifier on my iPhone works even though part of my face is not visible due to the tape gag and blindfold.  Click!  It worked.  I heard Ron’s deep and soothing voice.  “Hey Kenny.  It’s Ron.  Just checking on you as I promised.”,  he said.  I responded, “Ron!  Help me.  I am bound, gagged and blindfolded.  I just got raped.  I think the son-of-a-bitch may come back.  Please!  Please!  Come yourself.  Bring a gun.  I don’t want anyone else to see me.  I am naked, helpless, covered with cum and look like a photograph in a gay bondage magazine.  If you do this for me, I will suck you off.  I will even let you fuck me.  You know, a hole is a hole!  Wait.  Sorry!  I didn’t mean that!  I am just really fucked up.  You know, because I got fucked.  I am not thinking straightly.  I mean I am straight!  Oh shit!  Help me!  Pleeeeaaassseee!”  All Ron heard was moans and groans.  Ron said, “Kenny, what is going on?  Are you playing some type of joke?  Wait are you having sex?  Are you cheating on Karen?  Either you answered the phone by accident or wanted me hear this.”  I tried to calm myself down, speak more slowly, and enunciate words the best I can with a mouthful of soggy underwear.  I said, “I have been sexually assaulted.  I need your help.  Come to the hunting camp.  Please.  You’re my best friend and I love you.  Please help.”  What he heard was, “Iiimm exx.  Eeeehh hhhhuummp.  Ooohhh ooouu.  Hhhuuummpp.”  Also at the worst possible time, the vibrating cock ring cycled to the highest setting.  I looked between my legs to see my cock and balls come to life.  Bouncing.  Tickling.  Titillating?  The prostate massager is now more noticeable.  Feeling amazing!  I assume that as I am getting harder, my prostate is growing…filling up again…producing the fluid that nourishes and transports sperm.  “Hummmmm.  Ah. Hummmmm.”  For a moment, I forgot my predicament and focused on the stimulation.  Unknowingly, I was making sex noises….moaning…..the gag just making it sound even more smutty.  I was wondering what Ron will do once if he arrives to rescue me.  Maybe pull out the prostate massager and ………

Ron yelled, “Are you trying to entice me?”  Are you now bi-curious?  First you tell me you are going to indulge in self-bondage and going into great detail of your plans.  You know that it just made me horny.  Now you are making sex noises.”  I hear myself, “Uh. Uh.”    Ron said in a seductive voice, “If we are you going to this, you have to let me take charge.  What do you want?  Bondage?  Want to be dominated?  Jerk buddy?  Anal?  All the above?  As sex addicts, we can be there for each other, both physically and emotionally.  It is better if I can be a sexual outlet for you rather than you cheating on Karen with another woman, including prostitutes or female victims you forced in sexual activities in lieu of being arrested, ticketed, whatever.”  What the fuck!  Ron thinks I am trying to seduce him over the phone?  He is considering having sex….kinky sex….gay sex….to save my relationship with Karen, to avoid getting fired from my job, and arrested for forcing women to have sex with me.  I yell, “Help!  Help!  Help!”  He hears, “Yup, yup yup!.  Ron said, “OK.  Come over to my house Wednesday and bring the bondage gear that Ted gave you.  I was just calling to make sure you weren’t stuck on that deer cleaning thing outside, I mean, like you told me you were going to tie yourself to or whatever.  I don’t have time to discuss this any further.  Talk to you later.”  Ron then hung up.  I yelled, “Nnnnnnnnoooooo.”  I fell back on the bed and gave in to pleasure I was experiencing.

Three hours past until the Ice Warden melted and my wrist were no longer cuffed behind my back.  I had been rolling around the bed suffering from the tickle torture caused by the vibrating cock ring and prostate massager.  I ejaculated shortly after Ron hung up and must have passed out.  I had no idea the amount of time that had passed.  My chest and groin was covered in sticky meat sauce.  I wondered if I shot another load while I was unconscious.  I yanked off the blindfold, removed the cock ring and pulled out the prostate massager.  I looked around and saw my wallet, service weapon, and iPhone.  I hopped to the living room and made my way to the door.  I locked the door and began searching for the keys to the locks on my leather restraints.  They were on the kitchen counter.  I unlocked the padlocks, remove the leather restraints, unwrap the duct tape and spit out the briefs.  I quickly put on my police uniform and gather my belongings.  I decide not to bother cleaning up.  

Once I was miles down the road, I decided to stop at a convenience store to piss, get a bottle of water and a bag of chips.  Before driving away, I checked my phone to see if I had any messages that needed my attention and ponder if I needed to report the sexual assault or call Ron back.  I had flash backs to hearing shutter clicks during while bound and blindfolded.  I checked the photos and to my surprise, I found photos of me that were taken during the day.  Chester the Molester must have used the face recognition on my IPhone to access the camera.  I sat there studying the photos.  I looked hot.  Hanging from the deer hoist, tied to the chair, standing while cuffed, and bound on the bed.  I can show these to Ron and explain what happened to me today and the reasons he thought I was making sex noises in order seduce him.  But wait.  Did he just tell me that he was willing to dominate me?  Tie me up?  Ravish me?  My sore cock begins to grow.  Maybe I will take him up on is offer.  I mean, if it wasn’t for the threat of being seriously harmed or killed today, I probably would been all into it.  Hold up!  I shot two, three or more loads.  Visible evidence was my cum matted hair.  I can explore BDSM in a safe setting.  I always wanted to be in a tight hogtie.  I hope he wants to put his manhood in my butthole.  We can be bromosexuals.  I have a lot to think about.

Four hours earlier:  Ron hung up his cell phone in the parking lot of the convenience store (the same Kenny will be stopping at in four hours) and looked at the photos he saved of Kenny on his iPhone.  He looked so hot bound and gagged.  Ron had never fucked anyone as tight as Kenny.  Best day ever!  

What Ron never disclosed in any of the LR meetings or to any of the members is that he has disturbing sexual fantasies of raping men.  In the past, he spent a fortune on male escorts willing to participate in BDSM and role playing activities.  Kenny has been an object of his affection ever since them first day he met him.  Cute face, ripped body, cocky and stupid.  

What luck when Kenny decided to follow Ted’s advice of curbing his need of BDSM through the ridiculous aversion therapy including self-bondage.  How funny, but hot, that Kenny use one of the devices to help him climax and then tortured himself as well as that vibrating thing I put in his ass.  I hope he enjoyed the endless milking.  Kenny gave me all the details of his plan of restraining himself.  I suggested he blindfold himself so he wouldn’t get distracted from his surroundings.  The gag was a nice surprise.  I waited in the woods all night.  Watching him undress the night before through his bedroom window.  Admiring his perfect buff physique.  The next morning, watching him from the woods (while wearing military fatigues), securing himself to the deer hoist while gagged and blindfolded.  Powerless.  Practically Naked.  Hard.  Moist.  Waiting and wanting to be dominated and fucked.  Fucking Kenny’s tight asshole was the most exciting sexual experience I ever experienced.  It was warm and welcoming.  His hungry rectum just gobbled up my cock.  Kenny is also an amazing cocksucker.  Even in his perceived peril, he was desperate to please me.  I have broke him.  His desire for domination and bondage will be overwhelming and I will be there to lend my assistance.  My personal sex slave.