Peril, Bondage, David in Rome, Rope, Erect
DAVID 126
david in ROME — Chapter THREE
He fought, but in the end five swordpoints pressed against his neck, and six more guards joined the escort. They held him by the arms and several of them pushed from behind, and every time he stopped walking or shifted his weight onto one leg so that he could kick, they pulled…hard…on his leash, and he’d yelp and resume a quick walk to put some slack in the lead. One of the guards slapped his buttocks all the way to the temple of Bacchus, and by the time they arrived, his rump was stinging. They entered through a back door, and immediately he could hear the crowd; rhythmic grunts, moans, women squealing, laughter, heavy breathing.
They climbed up to the balcony, and he had a brief glimpse of a sea of undulating flesh before they turned him around and attached a short length of chain to his cock ring. Then they turned him back around to face the interior of the temple. There were two heavy wooden planks leading out onto a stone platform which topped a large pillar. Two soldiers pushed him across the planks and then forced him to kneel. One of them kept his swordpoint at his neck while the other pulled on the chain.
“Spread your legs!” ordered the soldier.
He spread his legs. He was frightened. And confused. He wondered why he was so high above the main floor. The top of the pillar actually seemed somewhat of a haven, but he knew that it wouldn’t be for long. Something horrific was going to happen.
The guard inserted a huge padlock through the chain and pulled down to lock it onto a metal ring set into the stone platform. It almost reached. He pulled down harder on the cock ring.
“No!” David cried. “No further!”
The guards laughed.
“Spread your legs!” the soldier ordered again. “Wider!”
He did as he was told, and his splayed thighs allowed his hips to sit just a bit lower, just enough for the soldier to lock the chain to the ring. The soldier tied another short length of rope to the loops around David’s wrists and then pulled down.
“No!” David cried out.
“Cassius,” said the soldier. “Pull him back.”
Cassius stood behind David, grabbed under the big man’s jaw, and pulled back. David grimaced in pain. He could feel the rope touching the crack of his ass, and he could feel the soldiers strong hands working underneath his balls, tying the rope into a stout knot.
“More,” said the soldier.
Cassius put his knee between David’s shoulder blades and pulled back on the man’s head harder. David arched his back, his chest thrust out, and he felt the soldier tug the rope tight.
“Hand me the leash,” the first soldier said, and Cassius carefully passed it to the soldier underneath David’s spread legs. When the soldier took hold of the leash, Cassius slowly withdrew his hand, and as he did, he tickled the back of David’s balls.
“NO!”
Cassius laughed. “The man’s ticklish!”
“That’s not good!” one of the other soldiers smirked.
The soldier let the leash hang over the back of the platform. “They’ll pull on that when it’s close enough, just to see what it’s attached to!”
The soldiers rejoined their comrades on the balcony and removed the planks.
“I hope you’re thirsty!” One of them said, and they all laughed.
“I’ll see you later,” one of them whispered, and he rubbed his crotch, and then they marched away, laughing.
He was tied to the platform, his thighs spread uncomfortably wide, his cock and balls horribly vulnerable. His arms were tied behind his back and they too were tied to the ring in the platform with the short length of rope that went from his wrists, between his buttocks, and then to the ring just beneath his ass. In this position, he could not bend forward. He couldn’t rise up to bring his thighs together. The only comfort he took was the fact that, unable to bend over, he might not be raped, and the rope between his ass cheeks would impede any attempt as well. But the rest of him was begging to be touched. His cock and balls were on display and his sensitive chest was thrust out.
He heard a noise, like stone scraping on stone, and he felt the pillar jerk. Someone below shouted something and the crowd cheered. He thought he felt the pillar wobble, and then he saw the balcony before him move…or so he thought. It seemed as thought the whole building was slowly rising. And then he realized…
…the pillar was sinking.
“Nooo!” he moaned. And he began to struggle. He pulled on his ropes. His mighty shoulders strained and flexed as he tried to break the ropes around his muscular arms. He tried to pull his wrists apart, but the loops of rope held firm. Again and again he struggled in his bonds as the pillar slowly sank. He could look up now at the balcony, and the voices below were growing clearer. He could hear a man in the throes of an orgasm, and he could hear the measured panting of bodies in lust and the wet slap of skin on skin. There were moans, and whimpers of pain that could also be ecstacy. And he could hear voices whispering:
“…coming closer.”
“Who is it?”
“…man or woman?”
“What’s that thin strap hanging down?”
“I can’t reach it yet.”
“Lift me up so I can…”
He didn’t want this. He lowered his head and fought back tears. So many times…so many times people had wanted to touch him, and he let them, and they marveled and felt and smiled, and he smiled back. There was something about his demeanor that precluded the sudden, vulgar grope or poke. People would approach him shyly, he’d smile, and they’d begin to ask questions, and he’d let them feel his arms or his chest briefly. But now, any semblance of dignity was about to be ruined. He was about to become a freak, a toy, a plaything, something mindless exempt from care, and grace, and manners, and respect.
Someone yanked on the leash.
“OW!” he yelled. He braced himself for what he knew was coming. They yanked again and again, harder and harder. He sobbed. He was too frightened to cry, although he wanted to. And then something crawled up the small of his back. He shuddered and gasped.
“I can reach him!”
“Lift me up too!”
Whatever it was, it was stroking the small of his back, and then another one caressed his buttocks. His skin crawled and, filled with dread, he felt his cock stiffen. He looked up and saw a hand wavering in front of him now. It held a peacock feather, and blindly, it was thrust between his legs, and it stroked his balls.
“No!”
The sensations were maddening, and whoever was holding the feather aimed more carefully. He looked down in horror as it explored the area between his thighs, and the feathers behind him softly caressed his buttocks. Two more peacock feathers appeared in front of him, and they searched in the air for his body. He trembled. His eyes were wide, and his breathing was frantic.
As the platform continued to descend, the feather-bearers could reach higher. Now they stroked his back, and the ones in front brushed along his upper chest. One of them touched his chin, and when it returned, he snapped at it, caught it with his teeth, and tore it from its owner’s hand.
And then the first pair of eyes appeared in front of him. It was a woman. And then a man’s hands appeared and the man pulled himself up and began to climb. He looked at David deliriously, a drunken grin set on his bobbing head. And then, his balance unsteady, he fell. Squeals and laughter ensued, and then the crowd began to shout their excitement. The number of voices grew. A dozen peacock feathers wavered in front of him, and it was clear that their owners were aiming. They found his cock and balls. He gritted his teeth, but he could not help himself. Quickly, his cock reared up. The feathers were withdrawn, and he braced himself for the onslaught. He let loose a long sob, like a howl, and then he felt someone touch his foot, and he looked down to see a man reaching for his rigid cock.
He was breathing hard, panting for breath. Someone was sucking on his toes, making sounds of savoring and delicious pleasure. The man in front of him grabbed his cock, his eyes wide with astonishment at the size of it, and he called out to the crowd below and told them what awaited them. And he saw the cock ring, and he told the revelers to pull hard.
“No!” David yelled. “You don’t understand! It hurts! If you—”
They pulled.
They pulled again.
The man climbed up onto the platform. He called out to the crowd. Something about a young god and a bull cock. He stood in front of David, bent down, looked into those frightened blue eyes, and said, “Give us a kiss!”
David shook his head.
The man grabbed David’s head and kissed him hard.
David jerked his head away.
“Pull on the reins!” said the man.
“No!” yelled David.
“Then give us a kiss handsome! Or I tell them to pull!”
Tears welled up in his eyes. He trembled. He took in a deep breath and held it.
And the man enjoyed himself, savoring the handsome man’s lips, exploring his teeth with his tongue, prodding, pushing, and pressing.
The leash was yanked.
David yelped, and his mouth was invaded. He closed his eyes tightly, for now he felt others climbing onto the platform, and there was a collective squeal of delight when the crowd saw him, and then he was covered with exploring hands.
There was a fight between the kissing man and others.
He felt his cock being pulled forward and then he felt the warm, silken caress of wet lips. He felt a gentle thud as the pillar reached its resting place beneath the temple. Hands were everywhere, stroking his balls, stroking his chest, stroking his thighs, stroking his buttocks. Tongues were everywhere, licking the back of his neck, licking his nipples, licking his arms.
“No!” he managed to cry out, and then a new mouth was clamped over his.
Someone was stroking his shaft. And then he felt the mouth again on his cockhead, but this time it advanced, slowly and steadily making its way down his shaft, until he could feel his cockhead touch the back of a throat. The owner applied pressure, and he felt the throat relax and the mouth advanced further taking in fully half of his huge meat, more than anyone else ever had. And then it began to pull back, and then forward, again and again, and with every advance it seemed to take in more and more, and the grasp and the juices of the hungry throat made him moan and shudder. The owner pulled all the way out, gasping for breath, and then returned to ravishing his sex meat.
Fingers prodded at his asshole. He cried out. Teeth nibbled at his ears. The noise around him was terrible: grunting, breathing, panting, slurping, groaning. A finger entered his ass, and he opened his eyes…wide…with terror. He could feel the rope yanking at his wrists as they tried to pull it aside to gain access. He felt a cock stabbing at his buttocks but all they could do was insert a finger. He felt tongues licking his wet, slippery buttocks. He felt someone stand close behind him and rub their penis against his neck, and its owner quickly began to moan higher and higher as he rubbed his manhood against David’s sweaty back. The man stopped for a moment, and then let loose a series of animal-like grunts of relief as he emptied his balls on
David’s back.
Someone maneuvered through the crowd with an amphora of new wine. “Here boy!” the man belched. “Drink wine!” The crowd cheered. David’s head was held back. The spout was pressed to his lips. “Drink!”
He would not open his lips.
“Drink!”
He pressed his lips tighter.
“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!...” the crowd chanted, and his lips were pulled apart. He cried out in pain, and then someone pulled hard on his leash. He whimpered, his control was lost, and warm wine filled his mouth. He spit it out. It ran down the sides of his neck and down his back. Again the spout was put to his lips, and this time the drunken wine-bearer tottered and a huge flood of wine drenched the boy’s head. This time, someone held his nose closed and clamped their hand over David’s mouth. David coughed again and again, and finally swallowed the wine.
“More!” the crowd yelled.
“No! Please!” David yelled. Wine had flowed up his nose and into his eyes, and he surmised that he had just imbibed two full goblets of wine, and yet they wanted him to have more. And more. And more. Two amphoras were at his mouth now, and with terror he realized what Caesar had meant when he had said, “If you survive….” Wine was pouring down his chest, across his neck, across his face. His mouth was pulled open and a flood flowed into it.
And all the while, his cock was enveloped by the hungry throat. Its owner would stop, and suck hard, and more blood would be pulled into David’s already rigid cock.
Someone had a finger all the way up his ass, and they wiggled it, and David went mad, gripping the finger with clenching ass lips. The finger explored and searched until it found his prostate, and it pressed and stroked, and small spasms began in his loins.
Someone was tickling between his legs.
Someone was lovingly licking his nipples.
Someone was rubbing their cock between his pecs.
David cried out again and again. In uncontrollable ecstacy. In terror.
“Don’t let him spout!” someone shouted. “Or our fun will be over!”
“Please!” he sputtered.
“More wine!” someone shouted.
“Just bring him to the threshold!” someone shouted. “But don’t let him cross!”
The crowd cheered.
The owner of the hungry throat pulled out to breathe, and when he resumed, he paid loving attention to just the head of the dripping cock, which was now strainingly erect, the skin tight and veiny. He sucked. He nibbled. He ran his large, wet lips over the glans. He let his tongue slide around and around and around just the purple, swollen head, and David screamed and when he did, more wine was poured down his throat.
The finger slowly reamed his ass, and at times it would come all the way out and drag it’s fingertip around the twitching ass lips.
Someone was gently dragging their fingernails down his back.
Someone had their tongue in his ear.
Someone dumped an entire goblet of wine into his hair.
Someone was manipulating the cock ring, trying to fathom its mechanism.
Someone was biting his left buttock.
Someone squirted their seed on his chest.
Someone squirted their seed on his face.
Someone dropped an entire amphora of wine behind him and people yelled in anger.
Someone drizzled honey on his chest hair, and half a dozen eager mouths lapped it up.
Someone stroked his massive arms and neck with feathers.
And just when he reached the point when he thought he would scream his orgasm into the mouth that was on his, the hungry mouths and hands withdrew their wet and loving caresses and he screamed and moaned and sobbed and trembled and jerked and gasped. But the finger in his ass continued. It stroked and rubbed pressed his prostate so gently that everything between his legs throbbed and spasmed on the verge of release, and he thought he would go mad. He fought to cum until he was in tears, and the crowd reveled in his frustration and fear.
“See if you can get him closer!” someone yelled.
And someone poured honey on his cock…
2004