DAVID 18
He awoke with sore shoulders and elbows. They had taken the weight of his massive body while he was unconscious. His hands were tied behind his back, behind the metal bars on which he leaned. All around him were trays of clutter and mess; bottles of liquids and gels, jars of jellies and creams. There was what looked like a dildo with a handle and few power switches on it. There were electrical devices. There were tubes and syringes, bands made of rubber and metal, gloves made of fur and velvet, small artists paintbrushes, and a collection of feathers. Underneath one of the carts, a flask of clear gel rested in a bowl of gently steaming water. And there was the hourglass.
“My name is Abbas,” said a voice from the darkness. “You are in an abandoned warehouse far from where you were abducted. In the next room are the richest men in the world, men so wealthy that they can have anything they want. And they want you.”
Abbas stepped into the light and David tried not to look at him. Abbas was frail in build but was full of an evil strength that emanated from his ever present leer. He wore one gold earring in his right ear. He smiled, and his teeth were as brown as parchment.
“But the sultans like their boys to give them sport. If a young man can control himself too well, he is but a source of frustration to them. But if he can be made to lose control of his own body...well, then he is a prize indeed. And that is where I come in.”
He stepped over to one of the carts and fondled the hourglass. He eyed David, letting his eyes loll on the massive, hairy pecs, the huge arms, the tree trunk thighs.
“Ohhh,” he moaned softly as he eyed his captive. “While you were unconscious, I explored your body.” He smiled and licked his lips and then laughed quietly. “You have some very sensitive areas young man. And you know that, don’t you?”
David shuddered.
“I think I found all of them and I—” he laughed again and stuck out his tongue and wiggled it like a snake testing the air. “I think I know just how to exploit them. We shall see. You cannot escape the ropes that bind your hands and feet. And even your great strength is no match for the rack on which you rest, so you may thrash about and struggle all you like. I am going to make you cum. I have… one hour. If you can control yourself and keep from cumming then you are not worthy of the sheiks and the sultans, and at the end of the hour I will inject you with this and you shall awaken by the side of a road. No one will believe your story. No one will be able to find this place. And you will have escpaed with at least some semblance of dignity after having only had to endure an hour long session of someone sucking you and feeling you. And I think you’ve let that happen more than a few times, haven’t you?”
The young man’s mouth hung open in amazement. This can’t be happening.
“But if I can make you cum before the sand in the hourglass runs out, then I shall inject you with this, and you shall awaken in chains in the banquet room next door with fingers probing and inspecting every orifice of your body and then you shall be auctioned off like the prize bull that you are.”
“No,” David whispered in shocked disbelief.
“You shall be taken away this very night aboard a private jet and tomorrow you will find yourself in a secret palace in the middle of the Saudi desert, with nothing but searing sand for five hundred miles in every direction. No man has ever escaped...and lived.”
His breathing became more rapid with the onset of panic.
“There you will be forced to build your body during the day, and at night you shall be the centerpiece of their debauchery and perverted pleasures.”
“No,” he said. “No...please.”
Abbas laughed his quiet, sick little giggle again, extended his tongue and wiggled it, and raised the hourglass up. “Feel free to beg,” he said. “I have been known to give up to a half minute’s rest if the subject begs loudly and earnestly enough. Tears are good too.”
David yanked at the ropes that bound his ankles. The whole rack shook and rocked.
“You don’t want your body to be invaded by those fat, hairy old men, do you?”
He didn’t answer. He pulled harder at the ropes around his wrists.
“Just don’t cum. That’s all you have to do.”
“Oh, please,” the young man begged. “Please. I’ll do anything! Let me go. Please.”
“I shall use my tools and my fingers and my mouth to accomplish my task.”
“No!”
“I am very talented.”
He strained at his ropes. “No!”
“And now, we shall begin.” And he turned the hourglass over and set it down, smiling.
“Oh no! No!”
And then Abbas sat himself on a little stool directly in front of David, reached underneath one of the carts and removed a single, thick, black rubber glove, and the flask of warm lube.
2003