Peril, Bondage, Brad, Erect, Chest Feel, kissing, Nipple, Drugged
DAVID 468
It cost me a pretty penny. Not only did I have to buy the drug, but I had to pay two goons to help me move Davey. Then I had to pay ’em all to keep quiet about everything. All this was after I’d found the abandoned warehouse. In this dream, I was rich, richer than Davey, and for some reason it was in Chicago. I’ve never been to Chicago. Maybe it’s because I think of gangsters or the Mafia when I think of Chicago. Who knows. But the whole dream was dark, like one of those old detective movies. And the boss and his goons wore dark suits, and they had fedoras low over their eyes.
The whole warehouse was dark. Nobody would even know we were there. The reason I bought it was because of the cellars. The guy said the building was built in the 1920’s and that a train used to go through it, but it looked like it was from the 1820’s. Stone floors No windows at all. Huge stone pillars. Even with a couple of lights nearby, the pillars threw shadows everywhere and the walls were somewhere in the darkness. You couldn’t see them. You entered through a simple door at the bottom of some creaky stairs. It was so dark, you could lose your bearings, and lose that door, and you felt as though you had descended into another world.
A dungeon.
God, I loved it. I thought of Davey immediately. That’s when I decided to make my fantasy a reality. The boss man said the drug would put him into a deep sleep. He wouldn’t be able to wake up…all the way or open his eyes, but he could still hear what was going on, and he could definitely feel what was happening to him. And the beauty of it all was that when he finally did wake up, it would all seem like a dream to him. I could smile at him in the locker room and he’d be none the wiser that it was me he was kissing, it was me who’d given him the pounding erection of his life, and that it was me who had fucked him to within an inch of his life.
There was an old turntable that had once been a loading platform. I had it shipped to a foundry where they stripped the bands of rusted metal that held the planks together and replaced them with slabs of beaten steel. I had them sand the wood down to a silky finish and stain it almost black. Four heavy anchors were welded on the steel, and extra thick, chrome steel chains were attached to each one. Once Davey was layin’ on the table, I brought out four works of art. Custom made to fit him. Extra thick, double layered, black leather restraints with double heavy duty buckles. I tried to go slow, to savor the act of strapping Davey in, but my heart was pounding so fast. God he’s huge. And so handsome. And totally oblivious to what was happening to him. The whole idea, the realization that I could stare at him now and not just try to steal glances made me rock hard. Damn. Look at those huge muscles. That cock. that hairy chest. Those big, luscious, vulnerable, totally defenseless nipples. That wavy black hair.
I finished locking the restraints to the chains. I had to pull him to one side just an inch or two to get the chains to reach, but now he was spread-eagled with everything laid out like a banquet for my hands and mouth. I got up on the table and laid alongside him, cradling his head in the crook of my arm. I ran a finger along his nose and his jaw and then I grabbed that big jaw and held it. Wow. Look at those long eyelashes. Geez, look at that chin. Oh, how sweet the feeling was. To know that I could lean over and have those eyelashes kiss and tickle my lips and that I could nibble on that chin instead of just trying not to stare at it.
I let go of his chin and let my hand slowly move over his chest, those twin slabs that jut out and grab your eyes even when he’s wearing a shirt. The chest hair was silky soft. A memory of humiliation echoed in my mind. For so long, I’d tried to get close enough to brush my hand against it, but I didn’t dare ask if I could feel his chest. That was just too desperate. I didn’t want him to know that I could barely control my hands and eyes when I was near him. Finally, one day, while we were in the locker room alone, I made the most inane remark about chest hair and how I was glad I didn’t have to shave my chest. Clumsily, and purposely, I assured him that I didn’t mean to offend him, that I had nothing against hairy chests. He smiled. He knew I didn’t. I remember I was so scared, I had trouble breathing. Then, stuttering, trying to sound casual, I asked if I could feel his chest. It just came out of me. I didn’t really try to do it. When I heard what I’d said, I felt my face turn hot. I wanted to die. I wanted to run, but I figured that would be worse than at least making an attempt at acting almost uninterested. He didn’t say anything. He just sat up real straight and I ran my hand back and forth. My knees were trembling. On the final return trip, my hand went low, feeling the underside of both pecs. I dared to graze each nipple. They were firm, and hot. I tried to act like it was no big deal. I shrugged and said, “Hmm. Soft,” as though I was surprised, which I was. For some reason I thought they'd feel bristly. I made a casual observation, trying to act almost bored. I said that up close, I could see that he really didn’t have a lot of chest hair, it’s just that what he does have is kind of straight, and so black. Then desperate to stop blabbering like an idiot, I said I had to go, and I went to my car, parked it four blocks away by the beach. There was no way I’d make it home with the erection I was sporting. I jacked off, with the memory of that chest burning in my brain. When I got home, I jacked off again.
And now, here I was caressing those pecs, I could do it for hours if I wanted to. He was breathing heavily. He could feel it. I got the impression that, for him, stroking and caressing his chest was soothing, and at the same time, one of the most erotic things you could do to him. He moaned. That huge cock was rock hard, the skin of the shaft tight and shiny. Its barely noticeable twitching kept pace with his pulse. I let my fingers slowly drag over his nipple. He tensed up and moaned. I let the sensation fade and then I held the other nipple between my thumb and forefinger. He sobbed. He started pulling at his chains. Oh god. Seeing Davey struggle, in chains….I nearly blew my load right there. He twisted gently, too drugged to wake up enough to fight, even in chains. But he turned his head and torso a bit to try to escape my hands. I slowed my hand. I made my touch lighter. He moaned louder and breathed faster. I skimmed his chest and made feather passes over his nipples. That drove him nuts. It looked like he was having a fit. He gasped for breath and trembled. He sounded like he didn’t like what was happening, and yet he arched his back, raising his chest higher, offering it up to me while protesting as much as he could.
I bent down and rubbed my goatee against his ear. He jerked away and sobbed Most people don’t know. Playing with his ears makes him stupid, especially if you play with the back of his ears. I held his jaw again to keep his head still and then I stuck my chin behind his ear. He screamed and tried to roll away. He pulled with each leg alternately, frantic to run away. Oh god, I just turned my head and watched for a few seconds. Seeing those tree trunk thighs yanking on those chains made me want to roll over on top of him and fuck his hairy chest right then and there. But I had other plans.
When he had calmed down, I put my lips to his ear.
“Hi Davey,” I whispered. “I know you can hear me. Guess what? You’re being held by some industrial strength bondage restraints.”
He moaned.
“Tell me something Davey. Has anybody ever made you cum just by playing with your chest?”
He said nothing.
“I bet I can.” I moved my hand. His nipples were hard as rock. Every muscle in his massive body shook. I moved my head away from his ear, went lower, and sucked on one.
He screamed. Pre-cum was flowing like syrup from his piss slit. His balls were trying desperately to pull up, to blast out that boiling load of man cream he had in those big nuts.
I moved back to his ear. “Can you feel that nice strap I have tight around your cock and balls? Why don’t we make sure it’s not too tight.” I reached down and stuck my finger between it and his cock. “Uh oh. Looks like it’s not tight enough.” It actually was plenty tight, but I figured he should really feel it. With both hands, I unbuckled the strap and immediately pulled it one notch tighter.
He sobbed, and those big legs started kicking again.
I moved back to his ear and nuzzled behind his ear. He tried to turn away. I grabbed his jaw and held him still, and then I licked behind his ear. Slowly.
He went berserk.
To quiet him, I turned his head towards me and then I kissed him. Every fantasy I’d ever held, and then some, ran wild in my head. I could so totally identify with chicks and every plot device in history. I was kissing the handsome prince, the captain of the football team, the movie star, the biggest guy in the gym, Hercules, Samson, the call boy to the rich and famous. I jammed my tongue in. I sucked his tongue into my mouth I sucked his breath into my lungs and let him breathe when I felt like letting him breathe. Nobody’s bitch was going to be bigger or handsomer than mine. I kissed him again. I lost control. I couldn’t stop. Finally, finally…after months of fantasizing, I was kissing Davey and I could do it as much as I wanted to.
Eventually, I released my grip and we both gasped for air. I rested my head on his chest for a minute and then blew into his ear. I was grinning from ear to ear. I whispered into his ear.
“Hey Davey. Let’s play a game.” I grabbed his cock and slowly slid my hand to the top, so that only the head protruded from my fist. My index finger was nestled right underneath the head. With my other hand I reached over to the little table in back of us and groped until I found the little bottle of baby oil. With my thumb, I popped open the cap and then drizzled a stream onto the head of Davey’s cock. Slowly, I brought my fist down and coated his throbbing pole. On the return trip upwards, he gasped.
“That’s right,” I whispered. “I’m slickin’ up your cock. You’re going to find it hard to cum with those bull balls tied up, but that might be a blessing in disguise Davey.” My hand went up and down, pistonlike, agonizingly slowly.
He sobbed and tried to twist away, but he could barely move.
“See, tonight, you’’re gonna be my bitch. I know what you want. I’ve known what you wanted for a long time. You want a real man to fuck you, don’t you Davey? You want a big…blond…stud….to hold you down and fuck you, don’t you?”
He moaned.
“You can’t take your eyes off me, can you? I know. I’ve seen. You just been too shy to ask, haven’t you? I see ’em. All these young punks…all these young studs…all those leather daddies…all those rich old men….they want to score with you. Most all of them are too shy, too intimidated to cruise you, but some are brave, aren’t they? Yeah. But you don’t like any of them, huh? Some of them are hot. But they’re not…studs. You want butch. Muscles.
Mean. A fuck machine. Like me. Yeah, baby. You’re gonna get your wish.”
He sobbed.
“I’m gonna jack you off. Real slow. It’s gonna be the longest, wettest, slickest, slipperiest hand job you’ve ever had. I’m gonna keep you so close to cumming it’s gonna fry your brain. You’ll be humping the air just to get off. And when I finally decide to make you cum, I’m gonna move my hand up like this, and I’m gonna vibrate my fist right around the crown of your dick, right where it meets the shaft, and I’m gonna press with my finger nice and firm right here, an inch or so under your piss slit. And Davey, you are gonna cum hard. You’re gonna cum harder than you’ve ever cum before. You’re gonna shoot, not just pulse after pulse of cum. It’s gonna be one long, long continuous stream that ebbs and squirts, over and over. And I’m gonna keep jackin’ your fuck pole more and more and more. You’re gonna want to tear out those chains to make me stop but I’m not gonna stop for a long, long time cuz you know why? Because I want every drop. From now on, bitch, I own every drop of your cum, and I want it all tonight. You know why? Because when I finally stop strummin’ your spasming cock, I’m gonna take some of that splooge that’s soaking your face and your chest, and I’m gonna use it for lube. Fucked with your own cum. Come on Davey…give it up.”
2010