The second day of my captivity had begun. I felt myself being shaken as I was gaining consciousness. I could hear Rick’s voice saying “Wake up.” I realized I was no longer cuffed to the bed and I was nude. I saw a bottle of Fleet Saline Enema in his right hand. He rolled me on my left side and bent my knee. With steady pressure, Rick gently inserted an enema tip into my butt with a slight side-to-side movement and squeezed the bottle in order to flood saline laxative inside my rectum. After a few minutes, I had a strong urge to have a bowel movement. Still feeling drowsy and having balance problems, Rick had to help me to the bathroom so I could empty my bowels. I was instructed to shower, shave, brush my teeth and put on the clothes draped over the towel bar.
The clothes included a retro look light-blue baseball jersey made of polyester with buttons and fishtail bottom, a used white cotton minimal ribbed jockstrap and white knee high nylon socks with a narrow light blue stripes woven into it (basically a simulated stirrup). The jockstrap was a little smaller than my size, but felt good while walking around as it kept my cock and balls tight in the breathable material. I got a half boner and my heated balls began to swell; causing the stretchy mesh pouch to expand and yet still covered my junk. A nice handful for someone to latch onto during my next session.
Once I was dressed, Rick took me in the bondage/torture room. There were two leather cuffs suspended by ropes about six feet apart. Rick attached each wrist in a cuff and locked with padlocks. He walked over to the wall and pushed the top button of an up/down momentary switch and my arms were lifted above my head. Two socks, identical to the ones I was wearing, were tied together in a knot at the toes, inserted in my mouth, and tied around my head. “Hhhuummmffff.” On the wall facing me was a full length mirror. I was having flashbacks to high school since the garb that I was wearing was similar to my high school baseball uniform. We were the Tornados and our school colors were light-blue and white. Since my arms were outstretched, my jersey was raised exposing part of my muscular midriff. The thin hair of my goody trail, trailing down to my manscaped pubic area, and the jockstrap showing off my nice bulge without giving it all away was kind of like a tease, which was hotter than if I was giving a full frontal. I began flexing my muscles as if I was competing in a bodybuilding competition. I wanted so badly to see my backside to see if the straps under my butt helped define my flexing cheeks. Then I saw Rick’s expression of amusement as he watched me showing off. “Looking hot, rope bunny!”, he chuckled. Damn it! It was like I self-objectification myself by being obsessed with how I looked in the mirror.
As I was just hanging in front of Rick, he informed me that the next client, known as Coach, is a high school teacher and baseball coach. Coach appears to be an “all American family guy”, but he an insatiable desire to enslave a baseball player. A few years ago, he found one of his seniors bound with jump ropes in the locker room after all other players had left for the day. He was wearing the exact outfit that I was now wearing including the old school jockstrap which Coach associates with athleticism, power, and a hint of vulnerability. The young man was gagged with knotted socks matching the ones he was wearing on his feet. Coach fought his desires to sexually assault the teen and ultimately freed the young man. It turned out the young man had bragged to his friends that he was an “escape artist,” so his teammates decided to see if he could escape confinement with items available to them in the locker room. The gag was a mystery since he did not explain the need to be gagged and who was the owner of the socks. Regardless, the young man said he couldn’t get himself free and his friends left him by accident. Coach did not know if he was hearing the truth, but didn’t feel the need to ask any further questions. The young man dressed and left in a good mood. Coach stayed behind and masturbated. Coach found our website and thought I look like this baseball player. He has been wanting to live out his fantasy of what he could have done to the helpless teen.
Oh shit! The reason Coach thought my pictured that Rick and Bear posted on their kidnappers-for-hire website looked like his former baseball player is because, it was me. I had lied to Coach the day he found me when I was physically restrained. It was my first time I attempted self-bondage. I was at the age of producing the most sex-revving testosterone and I constantly talk about sex with my friends, masturbated multiple times a day, experimenting with different ways to achieve sexual gratification and explored fantasies. A reoccurring fantasy was to be bound and gagged with my baseball teammates or by my fellow teammates. In my teens, I considered myself as straight and rationalized my desire for such erotic roleplaying with males as a normal male bonding activity like wrestling or a good ole circle jerk. What triggered my desire to tie myself up on that particular day was when I found my best friend’s baseball uniform including his stirrups and sock all in one baseball socks (over the calf hosiery that featured a cushioned footbed for comfort with a light blue stirrup design knit into a white athletic sock, giving the look of a stirrup without the hassle of a sanitary sock underneath) in his locker. In some of my BDSM fantasies, athletic socks were used as cleave gags. The thought of gagging myself with my best friend’s dirty socks would in some weird way be like he was actively involved in the kinky endeavor.
After our last game of the season had ended on a Friday afternoon, my teammates bolted home to get ready for a pool party at one of my teammate’s house. l was alone in the locker room. I tie my best friend’s socks at the toes, shove the big knot in my mouth, and tie the ends of the socks behind my head. “Huuummmfff.” The soggy socks tasted like sweat and leather. Only a few minutes earlier, those socks were on my best friend’s perfectly size eleven feet as he ran bases, fielded grounded balls, etc. It was like an aphrodisiac since I was getting aroused and had a strong desire to pleasure myself. I decided to remove my cleats and baseball knickers. I was left wearing my baseball socks that reached just above my knees (just like the ones I am wearing), a baseball jersey which snaps in the front and old school athletic supporter. I began reminiscing about my father buying me this first jock about four years ago for a sport, a symbolic coming-of-age ritual, a badge of membership into the cult of manliness. My father told me that it will help keep the boys in place and protect them during contact sports.
I began searching for items available in the locker room to restrain myself. I wanted to be helpless while horny to see if I could experience a hand-free orgasm. (There has been tons of times I was close to a touch-free orgasm, but due to my need for immediate gratification, I would choke my chicken. Being bound would prevent me using my hand and see what is like to have a a hand-free gusher.) If not, then I would untie myself and just rub one out. I grabbed some sports jump ropes made of cotton sash cord. I sat on a bench and tied my ankles and knees by simply wrapping a jump rope around each hinge joint multiple times and knot the ends of each jump rope facing forward. Next, I put my hands behind my back and proceed to fasten my wrist with a handcuff knot. The knot consists of two simple loops, overlaid, and with the ends pulled through. At that stage, the knot was slippery and easy to adjust. The knot was "locked" when I made an overhand knot with the loose ends. Unfortunately, the knot held and I was securely bound. At first, it was exhilarating. I was deep in a fantasy of all my teammates, some nude or just in jockstraps, bound and gagged in various positions with me in the locker room. In the daydream, we were going to be auction off like bull studs at a cattle auction. To be owned by powerful and rich men…using us to engage in sexual activities…using us as prostitutes…using us for our seeds for reproduction. I was seriously sexually charged.
I fell off the bench and landed on my side. “Mmmuufff.” As I rolled around on floor of the locker room, I began wishing I had been bound and gagged by a dominant older male…telling me how sexy I looked…eating my ass…teasing my anus with his tongue in small circles…playing with my entire booty…telling me to shake it…spanking me…telling me that I needed to be punished for being a dirty boy…going deeper into the rim job…then start bitch fucking me. My manhood was fully erect and had inched part of itself out of the waistband of my meshy jockstrap. I noticed my tip had changed to a purple-red color due to the increase of blood flow to the blood vessels and glands. Ok. Ok. I had enough and needed some relief. I decided to pull my right hand out of the rope tied behind my back and fondle my moisture-wicking-fabric-covered dick until I have a rub-gasm and after blowing my load, preferably into my athletic supporter, I will untie all the way-too-tight ropes. I wanted to leave my soiled jockstrap in my friend’s locker and keep his jockstrap as a souvenir. I will have plenty of time to make it to the pool party.
I tried desperately to slip a wrist free so I could stoke my boner, but the jump rope was tied too tight. Oh no! The knots of the ligatures around my wrist, knees and ankles were out of reach of my fingers. I wanted the sensation of being helpless, not actually being helpless. As I made a forceful effort to get free of restraint, the snaps of my baseball jersey unfastened…falling off my shoulders…exposing my stiff nipples. I was covered in sweat. As I struggled to free myself, I was making low grunting noises. I yelled, “Fuuuuuccccckkkk! How stupid? Motherfucker! Motherfucker! Fucking dumb ropes! Fucking dumb sock gagger!” The knotted sock acted as a silencer stress releaser since it suppressed my screams.
About thirty minutes later, I could hear footsteps echoing in the empty gym. What if it is my best friend who came back for his baseball uniform he accidentally left in his locker? How will I explain this awkward situation? What will he think about his socks being used as a gag? What if he likes the predicament I caused for myself? What if it is the creepy janitor? Rumor is that he was a registered sex offender. What if he takes me home like a wrapped present and keeps me? I had a terrifying thought that his home looked like the one from the movie Texas Chainsaw Massacre and it was filled with torture devices. What if the creepy janitor penetrates me with his one eye trouser snake? Fucks me multiple times a day…letting his relatives and friends abuse me…all the time I am bound…ungagged only to be forced suck a cock…hungrily swallowing cock sauce since it is the only source of essential nutrients keeping me alive. Oh shit! That was disturbing daymare, but oddly sexually arousing. Regardless of my concerns of having a disturbing fantasy, the issue at hand is that I am about to be found…bound and gagged…with my wiener poking out of the waistband of my jockstrap. To make things worse, it is now oozing boner juice. I have made my way to my knees…I am arched backwards…my fingers searching for the knots securing my ankles. Oh no. There is a full length mirror mounted on the wall…I could see my entire body in the reflection…a visual representation of what the stranger will see when they enter the locker room…a beautiful bound boy…a hefty ribbed fabric pouch jockstrap with a nice contour to hold my big blue balls…a peeking mushroom tip…penis drool slowly seeping from my weiner hole…muscular body covered in sweat…exposed lightly hairy pecs…hard nips…wearing white athletic socks with dirty bottoms that shows footprint impressions…a cute face…a cleave gag consisting of white athletic socks that is pulled between my teeth. I was at the age of increased sense of modesty, but suddenly I was obscenely obsessed with my lustful well proportioned body. I would fuck me.
All the sudden, I experienced an intense, tightening and tingling sensation in my groin. I straightened up…still on my knees. My skin became warmer, I began generating more sweat, my eyes rolled back in my head, my balls started shaking, the head of my dick got really big, and them I felt a powerful spontaneous muscle spasm in my pecker and for reasons I can’t explain, contractions in my lower pelvic muscles and anus. It was the most amazing feeling. A rapid ejection of semen shot out the opening of my urethra, followed by another, another and another. Most of my man milk ricocheted off my abdomen onto the floor. The remaining cum bubble left after the forceful ejaculation was soaked up by the jockstrap. Unconsciously, I made grunting noises during the liquid explosion that must have been able to be heard by the person walking down the long corridor leading to the locker room, even with the socks in my mouth, since the footsteps suddenly stopped and then continued in a faster pace.
I sat down on my ass…legs stretched out in front of me…feeling the cool rubber flooring on my bare mounds. I felt sleepy, in a sexual afterglow. Then the adrenaline kicked in and my big brain (as opposed to the little brain in my penis) was more alert. I became fully aware of the stressful and possibly dangerous situation…someone is about to find me…wrist, ankles and knees tethered…cleave gagged with soiled 2-n-1 stirrup socks…cum stained jockstrap with a see-through mesh pouch…my ass exposed…my clenching butthole possibly visible. Thankfully, my penis retreated back in my jockstrap. I was having a “flight-or-fight” response, but was hinder by the restrains to take any reasonable action. I looked forward and saw seminal fluid in puddles around my bound feet. It looked like someone had spilled their milkshake on the dark blue flooring. I quickly cleaned up the puddles of cock snot on the floor as best I could with the soles of my sock feet. My stomach looked like a glazed donut.
It was Coach who found me. He had been in his office the entire time and the reason he went to the locker room to make sure the lights were turned off before going home. For what seemed like an eternity, he just stared at me. It was hard to read his expression…anger…shock…confusion…disappointment…lust. He finally reached for the brim of his hat, removed his hat, scratch his head while still holding his hat and then put the hat on backwards. Due to my embarrassment, I began with the verbal diarrhea (speaking too much and continuously when I’m nervous, excited and/or frustrated)…asking Coach to help me out…to please not tell my parents…asking for forgiveness…admitted that I had always admired him…thought he is the most handsome man…like one of those Sears catalog models…telling him that I would do anything to repay him for his assistance and discretion….ANYTHING! “Mmmuuffff…uuuhh…mummm…uuuuhh…aaa…mmmuuuuff.” Thank goodness for the gag. Coach was not able to understand the muffled rambling…statements made during a panic attack by a still turned on teen…willing to offer sexual services in exchange for forgiveness of my indiscretion and to be set free.
For reasons unknown to me, he began untying me without removing my gag first. It bought me some time to think of a plausible explanation for this mess. He tried to loosen the knots with his hands, but his fingers couldn’t loosen the knots. I guess because I had wrestled around on the ground to get untied, the knots were stretched tight. Without saying a word, he laid me on my stomach and then he got all fours over me. Coach had to use his teeth to unfasten the knots. His face was buried in the ropes around my wrist and his bulge was inches behind the back of my head. I could feel his hot breath on my clammy skin . I could hear his snorts and grunting. I was getting aroused and attempted to reposition myself to get rid of the unwanted erection. Coach placed one of his hands on my right bare butt cheek to stop me from moving my hips. I spontaneously raised my head and accidentally made contact with his cushy mansack. To make things worse, I also bent my legs and my bound feet made contact with Coach’s face since he had raised up as a reaction to having his gonads smashed. My cum drenched socked soles must have rubbed up against his nose…lips…mustache. Oh shit! He might have smelled my jism…tasted it…left some of my man juice on his tash for him to savor later. Coach gripped my gluteus maximus with both hands to steady himself, bent his face down and continued to gnaw at the knot. He began making grunting noises again, sounding more like rhythmic grunts…like grunts that is paired with thrusting during sex. Oh shit. His hips are moving…like jamming movements…as he gnawed on the knots. His crotch was making contact with the back of my head. Is that his tip that I am feeling? Is he hard? No. Can’t be. Coach is married with kids. Why is this making me horny, again? Oh yea. I’m a teenager. I am indefinitely horny. How embarrassing?
Shortly thereafter, all the jump ropes were untied. I pulled the knotted socks out of my mouth; leaving it still tied in the back, so I was wearing it like a scarf. I came up with the escape artist excuse, grabbed my duffle bag and got the hell out of there. Coach still had not uttered a word. It wasn’t until I was about to exit the gym doors that I realized my ass was still exposed. I stopped long enough to slip on my jeans and ran to my car…no shoes…wearing an unbuttoned baseball jersey…my best friend’s socks still wrapped around my neck.
I went home and jerked off as I fantasized about a scenario in which Coach had fondled, spanked and fucked me. In my fantasy, Coach is sitting on the bench with his cock sticking out of his shorts. He pulls me backwards and forces me to sit on his peg which he had lubricated with his own spit. He forces me down by pulling the back of the sock gag…his penis is buried in my asscheeks…his tip makes contact with my pucker hole…slowly he enters me…stretching my rectum…committing of crime of sodomy…rape. Coach then bounces me up and down…like I’m a human fleshlight…a masturbatory aid..a device for discreet sperm collection. My bound legs are between his legs. My chest bowed and my nipples are poking straight ahead. I am unable to get…What the fuck! I just made myself rock hard.
I wanted to tell Rick, but the gag prevented me from forming audible words. What a mess! Something wasn’t right. This situation is too much of a coincidence.
I heard a vehicle pull up and the doors opening and closing. Rick went outside to greet his client and I assume go over the rules. What will Coach think when he sees me…my hands secured above my head…gagged, like I was the afternoon he found me in the locker room…my penis thickening up…wearing now a painfully tight jockstrap constricting my genital region? I pulled on my bound wrist with the intentions to get one hand free so I could ungag myself, explain the situation to Coach, ask for assistance to escape and/or let him that I would never divulge his secret of being a potential sadistic pedophile. No luck.
Coach walked in wearing his signature Bike brand athletic polyester 4” inseam light-blue coaching shorts, white clingy polyester polo with a small light-blue tornado symbol located above the pocket, white tube socks with a light-blue classic triple pattern, light blue trucker hat and Nike Air Max shoes. He was a good looking man with sultry brown eyes and thick salt and pepper hair. Coach looked older than I remembered and he was sporting a grey mustache and full beard. I believe he is about six feet tall, forty-two inch chest, thirty-four waist and size ten feet. His has thick hairy arms and legs. As crazy as it sounds, he looked like a cross between a mature Chippendale dancer and a sexy Santa Claus. He must have known he drove all the women, and some men, crazy as he strutted in those close-fitting shorts that cupped his package and sometimes, you could see the outline of the head of his penis. I believe the reason his shorts were so tight was because of his fat ass. (He is the only man who has an ass as big as mine.) There were many days during baseball season, I would get a woody by simply watching Coach’s ass wiggle like Jello in those shorts when he was running, climbing the bleachers or jumping in joy when his team doing well during a game.
Coach walked over and he seemed like he immediately recognized me. He had a weird facial expression that looked like he had a dislike for me. As Coach approached me, I could smell his distinctive musky and Old Spice scent. His presence triggered memories of the day he found me in the locker room shortly before having a mind-blowing orgasm. I also remembered the conflicting emotions I had about Coach during my school years since I had a crush on him, but also perceived him as a father figure and mentor and he was present on the day of my most embarrassing and exhilarating life event. He whispered in my ear, “Nice to see you again Michael. Still not much of an escape artist, are you? I am going to do what I wanted to do the day I found you helpless in the locker room. Since then, there hasn’t been a day that I didn’t think about you. The way you looked, so sexy and vulnerable. How your muscular body felt as I moved you around to untie you, not to mention when I copped a feel of your beefy ass. Also, as weird as it may sound the smell of your sock clad feet, which was like a mixture of laundry detergent, locker room funk and jism. I got a whiffed of them when I was having to use my teeth to loosen the knot of your tethered ankles. Since then when I make love to my wife, I was imaging that I am fucking your defenseless bubble butt in the locker room. I wonder if you were blindfolded the day I found you, would I have molested you? I think I would of chanced it. Oh, by the way, we are not going to let them know we have a past. But, I will tell you this, you little fucker, it will be the last time I pay. I have a family to support. From now on, you will make time to submit to me so I can get my fix. The day I found you all bound up and gagged with one of your teammate’s baseball socks, it work up some deep-seated desire to dominate young men. Think of it as you providing a service to the community since it will deter me from taking out my sexual frustrations on any young men including my players. All good?” I nodded.
Coach went behind me, unsnapped my jersey and he caressed my chest. His chin was resting on my right clavicle. He soon found my nipples, started flicking them until they were erect and then made me suffer the dreaded ‘nipple cripple’. Instinctively, I raised one leg and pivoted. Coach was displeased that I was squirming and broke his grip. He said, “I can fix that!” Coach grabbed the waistband of my jockstrap, yanked it down, and let it fall around my ankles. My balls were tight and they held up my medium-hard pecker which was pointing forward. I’m commando in front of the man of my dreams. Coach bent down and yanked the jock strap from my ankles. He then grabbed two long pieces of rope, tied one end of each rope around an ankle, forced me to spread my legs, and then tied each end to heavy eye bolts screwed in opposing walls. He then went to the wall behind me and pushed the top button of the up/down momentary. My arms were stretched further up and he stopped the winch when I was standing on my toes. I was in a standing eagle with my arms outstretched and legs apart. Coach has effectively restricted my movements. His eyes were fixated on my waggling meat and two veggies since I was having uncontrollable leg movements due to being forced to stand on my toes. Coach muttered, “Awesome. You are a strapping young man. Excuse me. My strapping young man.”
Coach walked in front of me and began massaging my ballsac…rolled them around like marbles…slowly pulled them down and released…made them bounced by patting them. This stimulated the blood circulation to and through my testes. “Oh. Nice jawbreakers. Soft. Warm.”, said Coach softly, sounding awestruck by the size and weight of my balls as well as the smoothness. He said, “I can do anything I want with your family jewels and there is nothing you can do about it.” The sensation was amazing and I felt tingling all over body. With his free hand, he slipped the sock gag from my mouth and let it fall around my neck. Coach pulled a handful of my mullet so my head tilted back. He then planted his lips on mine. Kissing a furry face takes necking to a whole other dimension. After a few tongueless kisses, he then began lightly brushing his tongue along my lips. I parted my lips and gently slid my tongue along his. The kissing and tonguing intensified. We were both moaning. The sensation caused by the brushing of his beard and mustache against my chops was titillating. There I was. Totally helpless. Exposed. My erect cock wobbling as I was teetering on my alternate toes and balls of my feet. Passionately kissing my former coach. For a moment, forgetting there are two psychos watching this intimate exchange.
As my eyes were closed during or make out session, my mind was trying to make sense of this circumstance. I had been infatuated with Coach throughout high school and apparently he had similar feelings ever since he discovered me in bondage. If I had told him the truth that I was trying a technique for self-binding, as well as my feelings for him, we could have explored BDSM together throughout the years and I might have avoided being a kidnap victim.
Coach’s hand wrap around my balls and he held them in a vice-like grip. The pain caused me to accidentally bite his lip. Coach stepped back, wiped blood from his lip and chuckled. He walked to the area of the wall where various gags were on display. He chose a large red ball gag with leather straps and returned to where I was suspended. I said, “Coach, please, it was an aaaaawwww.” I was unable to finish my apology since he shoved the ball deep in my mouth and buckled the leather straps behind my head…I lost my chance to tell Coach that I was being held hostage…tell him that I was raped…beg him to save me. “Silence is golden!”, he said. He again grabbed my gonads with one hand and then swatted my taunt balls with his other palm. I scream into my gag as the pain washed over me. He whispered in my ear, “Yea. That mouth restraint was a good idea. It is an effective silencer except for the sweet muffled noises you will be making as I have my way with you. Remember what I taught you…perfect attitude…perfect effort…bring your ‘A’-game.” Right as I am able to collect myself, I felt Coach’s open palm connect with my balls again. “Mmmuuufff!” I looked down and was surprised to see my rock hard cock was dripping. My nuts were an angry red color.
Coach went to a cabinet and pulled out some supplies. In between my spread legs, he placed a power box (electrical device that converts the DC which comes out of the power adaptor into AC) with four channels. He squirted electro conductive gel on his index finger and smeared on my nipples and testicles. Next he pushed a cock ring to the base of my penis and he slipped my balls in a stretchy scrotum sac attached to the cock ring. He plugged leads into holes of the scrotum sack. Coach then snapped e-stim electro clamps with dangling connection cables on my erect nipples. The pain was intense. I was shaking my head and made “uh uh uh” sounds as I was pleading for Coach to stop. He ignored me. Finally, he lubed an electro prostate stimulator and inserted in my ass. The prostate stimulator had a slightly curved bulbous head and a second part that hugged the skin that extends between my anus and the base of my testicles. He plugged one end of a cable into the prostate stimulator. All the ends of the cables were inserted into channels of the power box. This layout allowed each channel to get the full power and unintended interaction between the channels were impossible. Having four channels allows for more varied play by stimulating my nips, dick, balls, and tant at different or the same time. He picked up the power box and stood about four feet in front of me. He said, “Let me explain. This sleeve surrounding your man berries has lots of small electrodes inside. It allows power to flow right though your balls and to your penis due to the metal cock ring. Another function of the cock ring is to help maintain a longer-lasting and harder erection. I can define the level and frequency of stimulation, it can go from light tickling to awful pain. The prostate massager will deliver deep rumbly vibrations in ten different patterns. The more bulbous top inside you is the actual prostate massager and the lower half is a perineum massager.” Coach turned a dial and I felt a buzzing in my balls. Coach turned another dial and a felt light tickling on my prostate and perineum. It felt pleasant. With these devices now stimulating me, my cock went rock hard, as if it had even softened. He turned the final two dials and the e-stim electro clamps on my nipples came to life. This was painful. “Aaaawwww…eeeuuuu.”
Coach looked like he was playing with a controller for a PlayStation. Instead of playing a video game, he was manipulation my most sensitive erogenous zones. He would use the highest setting for the electro prostate stimulator which caused pearly prostatic fluid to leak from my piss slit. When I was close to having an orgasm, the prostate stimulator would be turned off and the dials for my nips and balls would be turned to the highest setting sending waves of electricity. As my entire body tensed up, I would lose my erection. Thankfully the ball gag keeps me from biting down when the electricity was turned on. Also, I think Coach was enjoying my muffled responses…screams…moans…sloppy sucking noises. Then after the electrical current ended, the prostate stimulator would kick in full force. After a while, he put the power box on autopilot and just watched..listened…enjoyed. He got his wish…to have me vulnerable…to punish me…to tease me…to be entertained by me.
Coach used surgical scissors to cut off the jersey. I am totally helpless and wearing only baseball socks. Since my extremities are stretched, it kept my trashing to a minimum. I am slinging pre-cum and/or prostatic fluid all over the place. I am screaming as loudly as I can, but the noises I am making sounded like muffled groans and cries of ecstatic bliss. This mixture of pleasure and pain, which should be deeply incompatible, was giving me the most erotic experience that I ever had in my life.
Obviously, Coach was enjoying the show. He walked behind me and massaged my shoulders, back, buttocks, thighs, and calves. He even rubbed the soles and heels of my socked feet which were accessible since I was bound in a tight standing eagle position causing me to stand on my tippy toes. It was as if Coach wanted to explore every inch of my body. The gag prevented me from verbal diarrhea since I wanted to pledge my everlasting devotion, beg to cum with the promise to cum again later; if he so desires, offer my orifices for his pleasure, tell him how handsome he was, etc.
Coach then moved to my front and took a knee. He placed his hands on my hips and stared at my groin. He said, “Look at that one-eyed monster. I bet it taste better than it looks.” With that being said, he swallowed my meat helmet. Feelings of pure ecstasy rose up through my shaft to my entire body. My knob is in Coach’s furry cakehole! It was so hot since he is tasting me, in the most intimate way; as well wanting to pleasure me that is immediate and direct. His mouth was warm and his tongue was slippery. He slowly let my dick slid across his rough tongue a couple of inches and then make his way back to my tip. What an amazing mustache ride. I wanted to grab the cocksucker’s head, so I can fuck his mouth; but I have no use of my hands. I have no control in this mouth bath. I could feel my cock pulsing wildly as Coach proved he was definitely an expert at giving a blowjob. He had stopped his powerful sucking motion and then used his tongue played havoc around my cock head and in my piss slit. He pulled my hips and went down hard on me. I finally realized that he had my entire cock in his mouth. I felt his nose pressing in my pubic area as he took a deep smell of my pubes. I can feel his whiskers at the base of my cock and my balls. How did he learn to give such a magnificent gobby? I knew I was close.
Coach slowly backed his head away and my chubby popped out. He said, “Yea. A man knows what feels good for another man. Getting a knob gobbling from your girlfriend won’t feel as good.” He turned off the power box and my body went limp since I was no longer being shocked. I immediately missed receiving pleasure from the prostate stimulator and being sucked off.
Coach removed all his clothes except his athletic socks. The last article clothing he peeled off was a jockstrap, like I was wearing, but it was light blue. Fuck! I want to steal those and add to my collection. Coach had a flawless thick and hairy Italian body. First, his backside was exposed and I noticed the wiggling of his big hairy ass. As he turned, I nearly creamed at the sight of his muscular hairy chest, suckable nipples, and bird nest (untamed pubic area of a male that specifically alludes to the testicles and the penis as two eggs and a bird). Coach had the most beautiful tool and nuts that I had ever seen. The skin tone of his dick and balls were slightly darker than the rest of his body. His cock was veiny and his mushroom tip was the shape that my high school health teacher said was good at scooping semen. (If a female has been inseminated by another male within a brief period of time, the next male in sequence has the opportunity to scoop out or displace the prior male’s semen from the female's reproductive tract, so he can substitute his semen for those of his rivals. The larger the mushroom, the better the scooping.) I loved the fact that Coach’s huge stones were covered in fur. He reminded me of a charter in Leo Ravenswood’s comic called The Abduction of the Original Great White Hunter.
Coach walked over to the wall and pushed the down button of an up/down momentary switch and my arms were lowered to my sides. He then pulled my hands behind my back and used a padlock to attach the cuffs together. I was able to grasp his pre-erect penis. It was warm and the skin was soft and silky smooth. The realization that I was clutching Coach’s manhood made me dizzy. I wanted to caress it, lick it, suck it, and push it in my poop chute. Coach broke free and returned to wall where the up/down momentary switch was located and pushed the up button. My arms were lifted behind me until I forced to bend forward…like I was bowing to royalty. My feet were flat on the ground. This is considered as a stappado bondage position.
Coach removed all the devices used to electrocute and stimulate me. He started applying lube to his penis and it grew to a monstrous size. It had to be 9” and the girth was huge. He went behind me. With my outspread legs and being bent forward, it exposed my dewy bronze eye. He grabbed my waist to hold me in place. I could feel his large and bulbous bell end pressed my bunghole. Coach began slowly pushing in his cock. It was less than twenty-four hours when I lost my virginity. If I had a cherry; the guy from yesterday would have reached it, but Coach is about to annihilate it. Also last night seemed more like a sexual assault, but this was different; I had feelings for Coach and desperately wanted to please this man. To me, this was going to have my first homosexual intercourse. I tried my best to relax my sphincter muscles by taking deep breaths and I was backing up as much as I could. He continued pushing in, murmuring to me “Damn! So tight. Good news, it’s getting wider. Just a little more! Come on. Work with me.” I pushed out like I was going to take a shit which was what needed to happen since all the sudden, Coach’s tip had began to enter me.
I felt a sharp pain as his bell head penetrated my anus. I believe I just experienced an anal fissure, a tiny tear in the anal canal. I had one in the past when I had a really large bowel movement. Instinctively, I lunged forward due to the pain…trying to dislodge Coach’s tip. Coach also moved forward suddenly, in a thrusting manner. He remained in me…just as deep…his entire bell head is in my rectum…my anal sphincter constricting around the neck of Coach’s penis. Next thing I know, my feet were no longer on the floor. My feet are flexed and my toes pointed toward the floor. I was suspended about two inches from the floor. I am bent over more and my arms are now perpendicular to my back. I am lucky that I didn’t dislocate my shoulders. Oh fuck! I am in a horizontal suspension, being held up my Coach’s cock.
Coach let go of my waist and due to gravity, I began sliding down Coach’s fuck stick.“Mmmmmmuuufff!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, “No…no…no…Coach stop! You’re too big to fit up in there…ow…ow…ow!” The noise heard in the room sounded like, “um um. Mmuuufff. Rrrrrrrrr.” Coach said out loud so my abductors could hear, “Oh yea…the gag was a good idea. Ha! Ha! Ha! Love the mumbling noise. Should have shoved the jock in his piehole and cover with something like tape. That would have been the most effective gag.” My toes finally made contact with the floor as my ass mounds pressed against Coach’s mons pubis, the area below his abdomen that is shaped like an upside-down triangle and extends from his pubic hairline to his genitals. “Oooohhh! Fucking shit! This booty boy feels good…good and tight…oh….yea…I think I can get in a little further. Ooooohhhh! What I have been missing all these years? Fucking a guy’s fudgehole is extraordinary…sensational…nasty, but in a good way. Getting what I need…not worried that you will get knocked up.”
I initially felt a rush of excitement that Coach was fully inside me followed by but fear that he would further tear me open. He held onto my hips as he slowly started pulling his cock out, and just before his tip was about to exit my rosy eye, he slowly, but forcefully, pushed his entire boner back in my rectum. It felt like taking a huge poop in reverse. Once he passed my sphincter muscles; there’s no more resistance…no longer painful. It was an enormously full feeling. He began fucking me…slowly at first…with small stabbing poo stokes…after about ten strokes, he would pause…allowing me to relax…and then he would begin boning down on me again. At first, it felt like I needed to take a piss due to the friction caused my his cock against my prostate gland. Then the prostate stimulation began feeling insanely good. My rectum envelop his entire huge cock. Coach stated, "Fuck your boipussy just clamped down on my cock." He began increasing thrusting harder…and harder…and harder. I loved and hated the unlawful sodomy.
I looked ahead in the mirror. There I was, gagged, drooling, cuffed wrist lifted behind my back causing me to hunch over, and legs spread wide. My cock was swinging wildly as this manly man was penetrating me. I am unprotected and and now just a fuck-hole for Coach’s enjoyment. Coach’s jaw was dropped and his eyes were closed. Luckily, there was a wall mirror to my right and I got a great view of Coach’s thick meat going in and out of me as well as his ass shaking as his pelvis made contact with my ass. His thrusts had become rough and each time as deep as he could go in my pooper I believe Coach fucked me at times in different angles with the intentions of hurting me…punishing me. Coach’s sweaty, low-hanging balls smacked up against me with each breathtaking plunge. "Fuck, my wife can't even take it all..ooooohhhh. Let’s go deeper! Good boy! Use those ring muscles in that butt. Give it your all!”, he yelled. Due to the angle of his thrusts and size of his big girth, my prostate was getting rubbed real good and hard. As his cock is pounding away on my swollen prostrate, I felt spunk building up inside me, and I knew if he carried on much longer, I would explode. Just then, Coach reach his climax. I heard him crying out, his hands were slapping my buttocks and then I felt a rush of cum being deposited in me. Rather than pull out, he continued to fuck me. He said, “Come on boy. Let’s go! Let’s go! I want some sweet prostate milk.” Coach’s slippery fluid in my anal canal adding to pleasure I was experiencing, I climaxed and my cock started squirting cum everywhere. I tried to announce that I had ejaculated, but all Coach heard was, "MPH! MPHMPH! MPH! MPH! MMPH! MPH!" Coach’s held his pecker in my ass as he softens slightly. He withdrew leaving me feeling loose, sloppy and empty.
Coach looked into the camera and said, “Shit! I could feel when this bottom was about to have an orgasm from anal penetration. His sphincter starts to spasm and pulsate making it tight and loosed at a rapid rate. His anal cavity tried to push my tool out during the orgasm and I could feel the tightness of his sphincter opening once the orgasm is over. I want to do that again…and again…and again!”
Coach knelt in front of me, reached under me and caught the last drops of milky fluid oozing from my pee-hole onto his finger. He then put his finger in his mouth and sucked the spunk off. He said, “Hey, you have prize-winning juice, man.” He grabbed my jockstrap, wiped up some of my spermatic fluid off the floor and tossed it over where his clothes were located. “A memento of the best fuck I ever had.”, he said. “Hey!”, I thought. I wanted to keep those. At least he could do is trade and let me keep his athletic supporter.
Coach decided to take a shower before he got dressed. Once he closed the bathroom door, Rick entered with Bear. I could see the family resemblance. The difference was Bear was not as tall as Rick and had more of a beer belly. His hair was the same auburn color, but instead of a scraggly beard like Rick, Bear only had facial stubble. He was was wearing hunting camo and brown roper boots. Bear went behind me and Rick stood in front of me. Rick unbuckled the ball gag and it dropped to the floor. I then heard the distinct sound of zippers. Before I could ask for mercy, Rick forced his massive dick in my mouth. “Hhhuuufff.” The taste was like a combination of stale piss, sweat, and cheesy feet. In other words, it tasted fucking great. His member filled my mouth and he pumped it down my throat while holding the sides of my face. Rick said, “Aawwww, yea. Good head. No teeth and use that tongue. Hhhuummm good faggot. That was the hottest shit we ever saw. Bear and I were so horny that we did something we never done and that was choking our chickens in front of each other. Hope you don’t mind that I plan to finish off in you.” That was a rhetorical question but he took the slurping and gasping noises I was making as an affirmative response. Rick then said, “Get after that pork pocket! We don’t have much time”. With that being said, Bear slammed his cock inside me. Bear said, Ffffuuuuuccckkk. Sloppy seconds are the best! Gotta thank Coach for loosing you up and leaving nature’s best jelly in your behind.” Bear was amused that Rick called my anus a “pork pocket” and the cousins started exchanging slang words for my orifices they were abusing such as tater hole, playing the flute, rear rocket dock, face hole, shit pipe, chocolate highway, log chopper, magic Mike’s munch and bone smooch. Their juvenile behavior just added to my humiliation. The room was filled with sloppy wet sex noises as my orifices were being assaulted and weird utterances from the three of us which sounded like, “Haag...Uugh…Aaah….Mmmfffp! Unnf….Mmm-ahh….A-aahh...Ahn...Mngh-ph! Uhmn…Ah…Nnnf…A-a-ahhmmn…Ah…Ah…Nnhg…Uh-uhh…Haahhh…Mmmm-mmh….Nnmm.”
While I was being spit-roasted, I could hear Coach singing in the shower. He was oblivious to what was happening to me and could not hear the moaning, ass slapping, and taunting. I wanted to yell for help since I thought of myself as now belonging to Coach and he would not tolerate other men messing with personal property. However, Rick’s cock was better that any gag in silencing me. The only noises I could make was slurping and soft gasps for breaths with the only slightest noise I could make which sounded like, “muuuffffssss…slurp…muuffffssss….muuffffssss…gguuurrrlller.” Bear said, “I’m close. I’m close. Oooooooohhhhh. Yeaaaaa. Fucking cum guzzler!” His body convulsed as he shot his wad. Rick said, “Move!” Bear was now in front of me and replacing the ball gag. Rick unceremonious entered me. Of all of the men who fucked me in the last few hours, Rick was the biggest. As he furiously screwed me, Bear moved to my side and started milking me like a cow. I was rock hard and my testicles started tightening up. Rick reached underneath my chest, found my nipples and began lightly tugging on them. I was getting close and so was Rick. I experienced a tingling sensation and my heart was racing. My breathing became rapid and muscles tensed, including anal and sphincter muscles. As I felt Rick’s muscles at the base of his penis contacting, a rapid ejection of semen shot out of me. As I yelled in my gag, “uuuuummm huuumming.” Bear was softly caressing my ballsac during my emission. Simultaneously, Rick had a powerful ejaculation in me; filling me with his warm juice. Rick and Bear zipped up their pants, chuckled and ran out like naughty boys. I’m left there hanging.
Shortly thereafter, Coach exited the bathroom and began dressing. Rick’s voiced boomed over the intercom as he informed Coach that his time was ended and Bear would drive him back to his car. Coach crouched next to and whispered in my ear, “Every other Saturday, my wife plays bridge with the ladies of her Sunday school class and my teenage kids usually make plans with their friends. That gives me time to visit you. Maybe you can do a little self-bondage before I arrive, struggle to get loose in my presence while I enjoy a few beers as I watch games on ESPN and then I’ll hump you when I’m ready. You can be my half time entertainment…smash your back door in for twenty minutes or so…if I don’t cum…then you can suck me off as I go back watching the game. After the game…force you to endure hours of butt sex…play with your mushroom head penis…play with your plums…whatever I want to do. I have a screenshot of the website where I found you prostituting yourself. Nice touch to advertise that you are a kidnap victim. If you deny me, I will share the screenshot with your parents”.
Wow! He thinks I was a willing participant and is now blackmailing me. Now I am angry. He only sees me as a cheap whore and a vessel to deposit his cum. I said, “You’re nothing but a fucking anal intruder.” However, what Coach heard was “hhhhuumm huuummm” which I am sure sounded like I was agreeing to his terms. Damn this gag. Coach reached to my backside and started fingering me. He said, “Best fuck ever.” He was pleasantly surprised that globs of semen was falling from my ass. Coach stated, “Damn. I had no clue that I had cummed that much.” I wanted to emasculate him by telling him the puddle of opalescent fluid he was causing on the floor was not just his jism, but also spunk from two other men, as well as let him know he was only second biggest dick that fucked me today. Instead, all he heard was, “huummm aaawww uuukked hum hum.” Coach licked his fingers, stood up, slapped my ass hard and left.
Rick untied the ropes so I was no longer in the stappado position. He left the leather restraints on my wrist and he did not remove the gag. He tied my ankles together. Rick placed a cloth sack with a drawstring over my head and pulled the drawstring so the sack enclosed my head. Everything went dark. Rick threw me over his shoulder and informed me that it was time to go home. His right palm was between my asscheeks and his meaty index and middle fingers were deep in my pooper and his left hand was holding my bound ankles. Rick said, “Hope you don’t mind my fingers in your leather cheerio.” He finger fucked me as he carried me to my vehicle. It sounded someone walking in mud and I could feel leftover men’s spunk trickle down my gooch. He stood me up just outside my vehicle and was told if I needed to piss, this would be the time. From behind, he wrapped one arm around my chest and the other around my cock. A steady steam of urine came out of me. Rick shook off the last drops of dew and squeezed my balls for good measure.
I was placed on my stomach in the cargo area of my Jeep Cherokee and my bound feet were tied to the padlock connecting the leather restraints around my wrist. Hogtied again! Déjà vu!
I have no recollection of the travel home since I slept the entire way. I was physically exhausted.
I was awoken when I heard Rick open the liftgate. He untied the rope securing my wrist to my ankles, removed the hood and I was carried into my house through the interior door of the garage. He made his way to the master bedroom. The blinds were close so we could not be seen by the neighbors. He said, “You made us a lot of money and we had a lot of fun. How about one for the road?” My response was, “No. Please. I am tired and sore. Y’all had your fun. Please let me go and get the fuck out of my home.” What he heard was, “uuumm. Eeess. Aaahh mmmuumm. Hem ummmm uuukm hhhuumm.” Rick said, “Your a motherfucking freak. Listen to you begging me to screw you. If you had said no, I would have left you alone. But since you are such a good boy, I will be more than happy to play another game of hide the sausage with you.” He picked me up and gently placed me on my stomach, ass up, on the bed. He shoved a pillow under my hips. I couldn’t help but think that my neighbors have no idea that I have been man-napped in my own home. They don’t know I am bound and tightly gagged. They can’t save me from being raped…again.
Rick removed his shoes and clothes except for his dirty grey boot socks. His was a hairy bear with salami tits, huge ass, massive balls and of course, his tree stump that he is about to plant in me again. He was already erect. Rick climbed on top of me, placed his thick member against my anus and pushed passed my sphincter muscles. There was no need for lubricant since I was still full of sticky cum. His big long pole glided in deep and then he lifted his pelvis until only the tip was inside me. Then with brutal force, he shoved his entire dick in. I heard his balls slap my tiny patch of sensitive skin between my balls and asshole. Instinctively, my legs bent backwards and my stocking heels made contact with Rick’s hairy booty. I turned to face him as best I could and made eye contact. I shook my head as I closed my eyes and give out a cry of….excitement. Oh shit. I am actually enjoying myself. He stared at me, moving gradually faster in time and depth. I tried talking to him: "AAAAAAHHH! MPH! MPHMPH! MPH! MPH! MMPH! EEEEEE! MPH!" (You won. I now belong to you. Now, take off the gag! Kiss me!) He shoved my head down into the pillow as he as he said, “Shut the fuck up!” His sweat was dripping on my back as he pushed into me more and more, going ever faster. I moved my hips to try and please him and touched his abdomen every chance I could. To my surprise, my dick was firm again and the friction against the pillow was about to cause me lose another load. Either I was making too much noise or Rick wanted to hold on something to get more traction, he wrapped his hands around my gagged mouth and pulled my head back. The way my back was arched backwards, as well as the fact my crossed ankles are bound; my anus was tighter and my butt cheeks were clenched, giving more resistance while he was grinding his prick between my crack and hungry anal canal. Rick said, “I am about to dump my load. You fucking bitch! Your tight tight fucking man cunt feels so good! OOOOOOHHHHH YEA!” For the second time, Rick shot his baby-making juice in me. He laid on me and slowly went soft in me. He was kissing, nibbling and nuzzling my neck. His facial hair felt awesome against my skin. I was floundering under him since I was so close myself. I tried my best to control my external sphincter and pelvic floor muscles, so I could apply pressure around Rick’s penis and get him aroused again. I think all I accomplished by constricting his flaccid dick was squeezing the remaining semen out of his urethra into me. I was begging him to keep fucking my fart box and/or touch me in a way so I could climax, but either he didn’t understand my garbled speech and/or he selfish since he got off me and left me there with blue balls.
Rick got off the bed, dressed and went into my walk-in closet. He returned with a handful of ties and a pair of my dirty briefs. He removed the ball gag and immediately shoved my briefs in my mouth. He wrapped a tie around my head a couple of times, pulled from the back so the tie wedged between my teeth and forcing the briefs further in my mouth. Rick then bent my legs and with another tie, passed one end between my bound ankles and passed the other between the fabric of the tie wrapped around my head and the nap of my neck. He pulled ends of the third tie causing my head to arch toward my rear and legs bent backwards, as if he was trying to touch my toes to my head. Then he just started tying as many knots he could. It looked like I was doing yoga.
Rick slowly moved his face toward mine. He put his lips over my lips and began lapping the cloth stuffed in my mouth with his tongue. I closed my eyes wishing I was not gagged and could move my head, but the restrictive position I was bound in kept my head arched and looking forward. Then all the sudden, he pinch my nose, and began to choke me. I was totally defenseless. All I could do was wiggle my fingers and flex my feet. Rick had total control of my life by preventing me from breathing through my gagged mouth which was sealed with his mouth and pinched nose, as well as restricting my airways in my neck. He was moaning loudly, “Haumm! Haumm!”, letting me know he is aware that he was in charge. Rick released my neck since he was confident that I could not breathe through my mouth and nose. He shoved two or three fingers of his free hand in my unprotected back door and began attacking my prostate. My body's natural response to the lack of breath, signaling danger, was releasing hormones such as adrenaline and endorphins. There was a very intense, pleasurable feeling in my genitals and throughout my body, causing me to start creaming. “Uuuuuhhhhhmmmmm! Hum! Hum! Hummmmmm.” Rick removed his hands as my body started convulsing due to the intense assgasm.
Rick unlocked the padlocks on the leather restraints and freed my wrist. Rick grabbed the ball gag and leather restraints with one hand, patted my socked feet with his other hand and just left without saying a word. He was smart since he knew it would take time to untie the knots and I could not yell for help or call 911 until I could remove the gag. This gave him time to get miles away before I am loose.
After I was totally free, I looked in the garage and saw that Rick’s vehicle was gone. I closed the garage door and made sure all the doors were locked. I found a thousand dollars on my kitchen table. I took a shower and crawled into my bed.
Around three o’clock in the morning, I woke up with a boner. Over by the bed was the baseball socks I was made to wear the previous day. I picked the moist socks and took a whiff. It was the unmistakable smell of cum. Could it have come from Rick, Bear, Coach and/or me? I will never wash them.
I couldn't stop thinking how many men within just a few hours desired me…screwed me… visibly enjoyed me bound and gagged. I wanted more similar experiences.
I went to the computer, accessed my Recon account and sent a message to Rick. In the message, I wrote, “I’m in. If y’all ever need me again for your business, please contact me.” Within minutes I got a response that stated, “Great. We will be in touch.” I thought about the last two days, jerked off and went to bed a happy man.
I was contacted a few weeks later. Rick said he would pick me up the following Friday night and transport me to hunting camp. He would leave a brown paper bag on my back porch sometime during the week with instructions and clothing. Rick said the first client has a thing for Boy Scouts.
As promised, I found a bag of bondage supplies, a Boy Scout uniform, red bikini briefs with the Superman “S” emblem on the crotch area and handwritten instructions. On Friday, I took off early from work. I showered, shaved, and brush my teeth before putting on the underwear and uniform. It consisted of tan scout uniform shirt with patches, short short olive green pants, red neckerchief, knee high olive green wool socks and vintage scouts sock garters with red tabs which scouts use to wear to hold their socks in place both for neatness and warmth. (The garter straps were hidden by folding over the top of the socks and only the decorative red tabs showing.) I noticed the troop number was sixty-nine. Left in the bag were a pair of handcuffs, zip ties, aviator style blindfold, and ball gag (exactly the gag I wore a few weeks earlier). The first instruction was to place a dining room chair in the middle of living room with the back of the chair facing the french patio doors. I was to sit in the chair and bind my ankles with a zip tie. Then I was to gag myself, put on the blindfold and finally cuff my wrist behind the chair.
Hours passed. I’m sitting there with my limbs bound, gagged, and blindfolded. I started to panic since I was thinking Rick was not coming for me. Maybe it is some sick joke. He is such a sadistic fucker! How would I get loose? The back of the dinning room chair was too high for me to pull my arms over the top. My sock feet were slippery against the wood floor so I could not push the heavy chair from where I was located. Even if I could, I can’t see where I going and if the chair tips over, I could seriously hurt myself. It just dawned on me that I don’t have the keys to the cuffs. How will I explain the Boy Scouts uniform? I can’t believe that I haven’t learned my lesson about self-bondage. I felt a wad of precum travel through my urethra and the warm liquid discharging from my chubby. Great! I will probably have a hands-free orgasm which will make things worse.
I heard the patio door open.
