The Pinched Prick

"Where's my penis? Oh, my God! Where's my penis? It's gone! Where's my penis? Who stole my penis?"

That's the first thing I heard as I was jolted awake from a dream. Someone was hollering about his missing penis. Instinctively, my hand slipped down to check my own. It was intact - not only that, it was very hard - an eager, early morning erection. The shouting sounded so weird it made me smile. A male voice, high-pitched with excitement, was saying over and over, "Where's my penis?"

I rubbed my eyes and looked over at the guy making the noise. It was John, an artist I'd met just two nights earlier at a Friday evening party. We had ended up at his place. He was naked except for an open silken pajama top, which floated outward, trailing behind him, as he rushed about the loft apparently searching for a penis. I noticed his was in place, all right, so THAT wasn't the penis he was looking for. It, and he, looked terrific. He was a giant hulk of a man, muscular, hairy and well-hung, amusingly effeminate at times, yet amazingly aggressive and domineering in bed. Watching him sail around his cluttered studio made me think he looked more like an overgrown child than a man. He was pushing his hand through his hair nervously, and seemed distraught, even fearful.

I pushed down the sheet and looked at my hardon. Hmm, I thought, none the worse for wear. It looked ready to go, fully recovered from two nights and a day of diligent, energetic, almost non-stop sex. I grabbed it firmly at mid-shaft and pumped experimentally. That felt so good I pumped some more, becoming engrossed in the pleasure of it. The movement caught John's eye. He bolted over to the platform bed, stood threateningly, arms akimbo, legs spread, organs swaying, and demanded: "What did you do with it?" He looked very angry.

"What are you rantin' and ravin' about? What did I do with WHAT?" I asked, glancing up from my preoccupation, wondering why he seemed so annoyed.

"With my penis, goddamn it!" He looked exasperated.

"Your fuckin' penis is right here," I said, reaching, stretching, towards his flaccid cock, letting go of my hardon. He backed away in annoyance. My fingertips just missed the large, dangling, uncut tool.

"Not MY penis, goddamn it! The sculpture I had here on this pedestal." He pointed to a four-foot high pedestal that looked like the top section of a Roman column. "Here," he said, angrily, "it was here. Did you steal it?"

"Wanna check?" I asked with a smirk, shifting my hips and turning my back to him. I stuck my ass out and up towards him, asking, "Is it in there?"

He moved forward, put a knee on the bed, leaned over and slid a hand over my hip onto my ass and dipped a finger into the cleft. The finger slid knowingly to the portal, rotating slowly as it moved. "No," he said absently with a soft chuckle, "of course it's not in here." Then, his attitude changing, he said quietly, "Sorry I accused you, but, shit, I've got to find it!" He straightened up, withdrew his hand and moved away from the bed, looking around the loft. "I don't know what I'll do..."

"Exactly what is it you're looking for." I rolled over onto my back, my firm erection floating above my abdomen in excitement, and watched him begin his search again.

"Don't you remember the statue that was here on this pedestal?" he called over to me, pointing at the empty spot atop the column. "It was a perfectly shaped, triple life-size, white-marble carving of a famous erection."

"Really? Whose?"

He ignored my question. "Don't you remember seeing it?"

"John, honestly I don't. All I can remember about the past 36 hours is seeing your double life-size cock aimed at my mouth..., at my ass..., at my hand. Who needs a marble one when I've got yours? And you don't need a stone one when mine's around."

He smiled. I could see him recalling the hours of passionate lovemaking that had bought us both so many orgasms together. His expression changed. He looked at me with tenderness and then came back over to the bed. He folded a leg under himself and sat near me.

"I'm sorry. You're right, I don't need marble when you're around, but the sculpture's not mine. Walt, a good friend, asked me to guard it for him for a few weeks while he's out in California working on a movie script. I've got to find it before he comes back. And, shit, he's due back tomorrow. What am I going to do?"

"Now, now," I said reassuringly, "we'll think of something. It's Sunday. I'll help you find the goddamn thing."

"You will?" He seemed both surprised and relieved by my offer.

"Sure. We'll play 'detective'. It'll be fun." I smiled confidently. He smiled with me. "Now, where should we check first?" I asked. "Oh, I know," I said, answering my own question, "Let's check YOUR ass!" I grabbed his hip and pulled him over on top of me. He let out a yelp, started to push away, felt my hardon straining against his firm abdomen and bushy crotch, and changed his mind. We embraced, then kissed. He stretched out on top of me as my hands roved about his muscular buttocks and back. He sighed and buried his face in my neck and licked and sucked with pleasure. I felt the stirrings of his passion as his cock quickly began filling out.

Suddenly, he bolted upright. He pushed himself up and sat on my stomach, my cock pressed tightly between us, his cock continuing to rise. "Ted!" he shouted, a fierce look in his eye.

"Ted?" I asked.

"Yes! That's the son-of-a-bitch that took it. The little thief!"

"How do you know?"

"He was here early Friday afternoon. I was trying to finish a piece for a deadline, so I didn't pay much attention to him. Finally, he left without even saying good-bye. I didn't think much about it at the time, but I didn't see him leave. He's told me several times he really likes that statue."

"What's the statue like?"

"Walt swears it's a precise replication of a famous Hollywood actor's cock, three times life size, supposedly sculpted by Andy Warhol."

"No kidding! How big is it?"

"It's thirty inches high and nine and three-quarters in diameter at center shaft."

"Wow! A ten inch cock with, what, a three and a quarter inch diameter?"

"Good boy. That's it exactly."

"Which actor?"

"If he knows, he's not telling."

"It'd be interesting to learn how Warhol got him to pose..."

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted, "but how do we get it back?"

"Let's go find Ted, for a start," I suggested, "but first, let's do something about these..." I grabbed his erection firmly and thrust my hips upward, reminding him that my cock was compressed between us and ready for action.

"Ooh, yeah! Good idea," he whispered, sliding forward, letting his cock be aimed at my mouth, "we're not in that much of a hurry." As I connected with the heat of his smooth cockhead, he twisted around athletically and completed the sixty-nine, engulfing my cock completely, expertly. Worries vanished as passion overtook us. Once again I was amazed at the ease with which we worked ourselves up to explosive, overpowering climaxes.

* * * * *

We had gone only a few blocks when John suddenly grabbed my arm and said menacingly, "There's that son-of-a-bitch, now."

"Where?" I looked in the direction he was looking. I saw a slim, handsome, boyish, young man on the opposite sidewalk coming up the block. Almost immediately, he went into a doorway and disappeared. A small sign above the doorway said "The Dungeon".

"Great," John said, "he's gone into The Dungeon, we can catch him there."

"Uh, John," I asked hesitantly, "what's The Dungeon." The name was a giveaway. I figured it was a place I didn't want to know about.

"Haven't you ever been in there? It's a gay bar. Attracts the studded leather crowd, mainly, but on Sunday afternoons it can be real quiet and pleasant. Com'on." Still holding me by the arm he half-dragged me across the street.

"Wait a moment," I insisted. "Let's decide what we're gonna say to Ted before we confront him. He'll probably deny any accusation you make. Let's think about this for a moment."

"I've got an idea," John said excitedly. "You go in first, alone. Ted doesn't know you. Lure him into one of the back rooms. Get him into a compromising position, and I'll join you.

"Er, John, don't you mean this is an S&M bar?"

"Sure. Hey, what's wrong? You're twice his size. You can handle him."

"I just don't want to end up in one of those 'harnesses' I've seen in magazines. You know, the ones like strange swings, where anyone who ambles by can fuck or fist-fuck you while you struggle helplessly."

"That's it! That's it! Good idea! Get Ted into one of those harnesses. Great! Then we'll REALLY be able to get him to talk." The glint in John's eye told me the idea was turning him on. I wondered briefly if there was another side to him that the weekend in bed hadn't disclosed. He must have seen doubt on my face, because he quickly added, with real sincerity, "We've just got to find that statue, man."

* * * * *

When my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I could make out Ted leaning with his back against the bar, a beer bottle in one hand, the other hand resting in his crotch, fingers idly toying with an impressive lump of hidden flesh beneath the worn jeans. He was staring at me. I kept a serious look on my face and walked right up to him.

"Buy ya a beer?" I asked in a low voice.

"Yeah. Sure." He looked into my eyes without smiling. A smile would have revealed vulnerability. I realized immediately he was one of those hordes of sex-crazed, promiscuous men, who are interested only in their own bodies, their own fantasies. Normally I would have nothing to do with them, so I figured he'd deserve whatever John had in mind.

I leaned in towards the bartender, pushing my left shoulder against Ted's, ordered two beers, and, without looking at him, let my hand replace his at his crotch. It was both a friendly gesture and a very erotic movement. I felt his body relax and his cock harden under my quick, skilled manipulation.

I took the two beers from the bartender in one hand, pushed away from the bar slightly, not breaking physical contact with Ted, and said, "Let's go find some quiet corner where we can be alone. You've got a fantastic body. I want to see more of it."

He couldn't help smiling with pleasure. Apparently, I'd said just the right thing. He nodded agreement, grabbed my hand, rubbed it on his growing cock momentarily, and said, "Follow me. I know just the right place." Holding my hand, he led me towards a very dark passageway into the heart of the bar. I've always hated blackened rooms and groping, unseen hands, and I wondered how the hell John would find us - or IF he'd find us. The wisdom of our plan suddenly seemed very doubtful.

But Ted didn't disappoint us. He led me into a small room and stopped. I handed him a beer and took a swig of mine to get up my courage. Slowly, my eyes became accustomed to the darkness and I realized some unusually dim lights were concealed in the room, yielding only enough light to make out his form but not enough to see detail. He swilled some beer and suddenly began undressing. His shirt, jeans, and shoes were off in seconds. I could see his nude form better in the darkness, except for his crotch. It occurred to me that he was wearing some kind of black jockstrap. I groped him. The jock was leather and his cock dangled out the right side, still slightly inflated. I grabbed it and began rubbing. It grew steadily into a man-sized handful. I was beginning to enjoy myself.

Ted pulled away, stripped off the jock, and said, "Help me into the harness, man. Then, I want you to fuck me!" I smiled to myself, realizing that John would think I'm some kind of a fuckin' genius, or sex-fiend, to get this guy into the "sling" just like we'd planned. Ted, on the other hand, wasn't interested in me; he only wanted to satisfy himself and his fantasies, and strapped on the upper part of the contraption without my help.

"Now slide that part up my thighs. That's it. Now, that strap goes under my butt. Yeah. Like that. Now lift my other leg and get it into the loop. Yeah. Now connect 'em. Yeah. A little tighter. That's it. Great. Now, attach that strap around my chest and secure it to these clamps near my shoulders. That's it. I'm ready!" He was hanging in mid-air, about waist high; his arms and legs wide apart and above the rest of his body.

"Can you get out of this by yourself, man?" I asked in a whisper.

"Fuck no, man. I'll need your help. You must know that, for Christ's sake."

"Good. Now let me see. Ah, here. Let's just gag you for a moment with this. OK?"

"Sure, man. Whatever turns yo..." He stopped talking. I used a rubber gag I'd found hanging from one of the wires holding him in the air.

I took a step back and studied my handiwork. Perfect. He was happy. His cock lay hard along his belly, ready for action. He was a good-looking stud, I had to admit, and rather sexy. For a moment, I thought I'd just slip a quick fuck into him to see what it'd be like (after all, who'd know, who'd care), but then I heard John coming along the dark passageway whispering my name. I had to laugh.

John heard my laughter and came into the dark room, bumping right into me. "Wait a second. You'll get used to the dark." I whispered to him. Suddenly, Ted began to make noises in his throat and to thrash around in the sling.

"Holy shit!" John whispered with glee, "you've done it! Man! Lookee here! Hi, Teddy. What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" John put a hand on the back of Ted's thigh and leaned over directly above Ted's face. "Am I interrupting something?" Ted continued to writhe in the sling, pulling on the wires holding his upper body up, and making weird noises in this throat. "You know what I want, don't you, Teddy boy? Where is it? I want to know. Now!"

John continued to stroke the back of Ted's thigh. He seemed to enjoy seeing Ted so completely restrained, so helpless. Then he loosened the gag in Ted's mouth with his free hand.

"Fuck you! HELP! HEL..." The gag went back into place quickly.

"Now, Teddy, I'm only going to tell you this once. So, pay attention! That's it. Calm down. Now, you're going to tell me where I can find the statue..." Ted began writhing and jerking in the harness. "No. No. Just relax and listen. That's it. Now, you're going to tell me, or Rambo, here, is going to shove his arm so far up your ass he'll be able to grab your heart and pull it out your asshole. Got it? It's tell or DIE."

I don't know who was more frightened, Ted or me. Die, I thought, who the fuck said anything about dying?

"You ready to tell?" John asked. To my amazement, Ted nodded his head and tried to say something through the gag. John released the gag slowly.

"I only borrowed it, John. I wanted to show it off to some of my friends. I meant to bring it back today, honest. It's hidden in my apartment under the back of the refrigerator. Let me down and I'll show you." Ted sounded very sincere. I was ready to let him down.

"No, no. Not just yet," John said, "where are your keys?"

"Please, John, let me down."

"Where are the keys?" John's voice was so calm it frightened me. I guess it frightened Ted, too.

"The keys are attached to my jeans, on the floor. There." He motioned with his head. John quickly put back the gag. Ted struggled and made more throaty noises.

"Now, I'll tell you what, Teddy. I'll go over to your place and collect my penis. If it's not where you say it is... Well, you can imagine what we'll do to you when I get back. If it is there, well, I'll let you go, with no hard feelings. Right?" Ted just looked at him. "Right, you little shit?" John roughly poked a dry finger into Ted's moist little pucker. Ted's body wrenched and he nodded his agreement.

John put an arm over my shoulder and led me away from the struggling form towards the dark passageway. "You stay here with him to make sure he doesn't get away," he whispered. "You done just great! If he's telling the truth, I should be back with the statue within half an hour."

"Gee, I dunno. Why don't I go get the statue and you stay here and watch him?"

"You know where he lives? Which apartment? What floor? No, you stay here with Ted. I'll get the goddamn statue. Com'on, man, it won't take that long. Do this for me, ok?" He squeezed my shoulder and pressed his cheek against mine.

"Well, all right. But I don't like this place, John, so hurry." He left abruptly. I peered into the darkness after him, listening to Ted whimpering behind me. I moved back to Ted, went to place a hand gently on his stomach, thinking to comfort him, and found that his cock had remained erect throughout the ordeal, even strained with excitement. It surprised me to find it so hard.

"Are you ok?" I asked. He nodded. "Is the statue really there?" He nodded. "Thank God," I said quietly. "Then you really did just borrow it?" He nodded again. Without thinking about it, my hand was playing with his erection, which was a very good size. The cockskin moved easily on the shaft as my hand toyed idly with it. I moved around to get between his up-stretched legs and felt his balls. They, too, were good sized and the scrotum was crinkled-skinned and tight with excitement, as though it had been some time since Ted had had an orgasm.

Hmm, I thought, bending down to take a good smell. This guy's sexy. I lifted the hard shaft upright and pumped experimentally. It was very stiff and resistant to being pulled upright. I lapped, just a little, at the cum-slit. It tasted good. Well, who'll know, I thought, and sucked the plum-sized cockhead into my mouth, lashing roughly at it with my tongue. Ted groaned with pleasure and pulled in his stomach, pushing the cock upward into my hot mouth. I let the cock slide out with a resounding "pop".

"You like this, don't you," I whispered.

He hummed, "Umm hmm", in agreement.

"It's getting me hot," I whispered. "Maybe I'll just open my fly and..."

My jeans slid down to the floor as my swelling erection bumped against his inner thigh. "Ummm," he groaned, somehow swinging himself tightly against me. He controlled his limited movements with unusual talent. I could almost hear his asshole asking to be filled. I grabbed my cock and gave it a few knowing strokes to bring it to full hardness, while I drew his hot organ into my mouth and gave it some deep-throated, full pressured sucks, letting saliva drool down the full shaft onto my encircling fist. He groaned more loudly. I switched hands and moistened my cockhead, then, in one motion, straightened up, releasing his cock, and thrust my cock into his asshole with a forceful push. I thought he'd whimper in pain, but my cock slipped right in with little resistance. Well, I didn't expect a virgin, I said to myself as the asshole took me right in to the hilt, and I'm not small.

Immediately, Ted began moving and rotating his body on my cock. What he lacked in tightness, he made up for in talent. He used the harness like a swing to move himself up and down the shaft, tightening and pulling with muscles I've never heard the names of. The motions he made also caused my hand to pump his cock with the same rhythms. A sense of mutual enjoyment of the fuck seemed to develop between us. I was in no hurry to cum. The weekend of sex with John had seen to that. So I just settled in to make the best of it.

Suddenly, hot breath, immediately followed by a moist tongue, touched my buttocks. The tongue licked over my ass as strong hands pried apart the cheeks. Holy shit, I thought, John can't be back already. Who is this? The tongue knew what it was doing. It found its target quickly, probing into my hot channel, strong hands kneading ass muscles. I wanted to push against the intruding tongue in pleasure, but didn't want to break contact with Ted's hot ass. I compromised by moving my feet as wide apart as I could, hampered as I was by my jeans at my ankles. The probing tongue went in and out, in and out, until both my unseen admirer and I could feel a relaxation of muscles accepting the penetration. I was ready to get fucked.

The stranger slid his body up against mine as he stood, using one hand on my hip to help raise himself, and pushing up my tee-shirt with the other. He was nude. I could feel furry chest hair and stiff nipples tickle my back as he rose, pressing against me. Before he was fully upright, I felt the tip of his cock touch between my asscheeks. It was hot. And big!

As he rose, the cockhead pushed slowly between the cheeks, seeking, then finding, the small pucker his tongue had moistened and soothed. His smooth motions never hesitated as he sought admission. The bulbous head, surprisingly hard and unyielding, and amazingly hot, poked at the entrance. But he was too big. I was too young, too inexperienced, too seldom fucked.

"Oh, man," a deep voice whispered in my ear, "you are tight! And hot! Just relax, man. This won't hurt." His rich voice calmed me, as his warm breath tickled my ear. His arms encircled my body and his hands rubbed my pecs, my abdomen, pinched my nipples, encircled my balls, feeling my cock in Ted's ass, raising me to a level of whole-body sensual pleasure I had infrequently felt before. I relaxed, rubbing my back against him as I continued the rhythm of the fuck with Ted. Suddenly, the cockhead slipped inward taking an inch or two of cockshaft with it. I drew in a deep breath.

"Relax," the voice whispered. Pressures stopped. He neither sought further entrance nor pulled back. I could feel myself adjusting to the girth of the huge cock, relaxing, allowing its presence in the restrictive canal. He slowly pulled back, then, suddenly thrust forward and upward with great strength, lifting me to tip-toe, as he drove cock deeply into me. It seemed to keep moving in. It seemed to get larger and larger as it entered.

"Wait!" I exhaled. "Stop!" He stopped, but did not withdraw.

"I'm not hurting you," he said, knowingly. "You love my big cock in your ass, man. Relax. Think about the ass your fucking. Forget about me for a while."

I realized then that my cock had engorged to its rock-hard maximum. I was enjoying this. As I tried to pump forward, I pulled against the cock deep inside me. Pulling back caused that cock to penetrate me more deeply still. Suddenly, I realized that I could control the level of my pleasure, and I began to fuck like a wild man. Sensing this, both my partners renewed their efforts and in moments I was raised to the heights of passion. The cock in my ass pressed against my prostate, and suddenly I began to explode in uncontrolled orgasm, pumping out shot after wild shot into Ted's hot ass.

My contracting muscles seemed to suck on the huge organ I was impaled upon, and in mid-orgasm I could feel the stranger stiffening and shooting off into me. The cock in my fist simultaneously shot a stream of semen into my face. I leaned down and caught the tip of the cock in my mouth and drained Ted dry.

After what seemed an eternity of pleasure, I held on to the wires holding up Ted's legs and tried to catch my breath. Slowly the strangers cock grew smaller and less demanding as he nuzzled my neck and ear. He withdrew, then moved back. I pulled out of Ted and turned to see what he looked like. All I saw was darkness. He had vanished into the shadows.

I grabbed my pants, found a toilet, took a crap and a leak, cleaned myself up, and composed my clothing. Ted hadn't moved when I got back.

"You ok?" I asked him. He grunted an agreement. As I wondered how long I'd have to wait here, I heard John calling my name softly. He came into the darkened room.

"I've got it! I found the missing penis," he whispered triumphantly.

"Great. Now, let's get the fuck out of here."

"Well, man," he whispered with a chuckle, "as long as we're here, don't you want to, you know, throw a fuck into Teddy?"

"Naw. This place gives me the creeps. Let's go."

"OK," John agreed.

"Well, what about Ted. Help me get him down."

"Fuck him," John said, loudly. "Leave 'im hang. It'll do him good to ponder the outcome of thievery for a while." He laughed and left the room, disappearing into the pitch-black hallway.

I leaned down to look at Ted. If it's possible to do so while gagged, he smiled at me. I left without worrying about his fate. He was where he wanted to be. Although I've never gone back there, every once in a while I wonder who that sexy stranger was and how we might meet again, and my asshole twitches.