By New York Cheech

He was standing in a front of a pet store, looking at the puppies in the window. He took my breath away. Half squatting to get a good look at a Dalmatian puppy, his Adidas warm-up pants were hugging his muscular legs and beefy ass. But his upper body was even more impressive. He was bulging out of his tight white t-shirt. Awesome shoulders, bulging pecs, and an impressive v-shaped back that tapered down to a narrow waist. He was a fantasy come to life. His arms were muscular, and I could see a hint of a tattoo peeking out beneath his tight sleeve (were those handcuffs inked into his shoulder?). He had thick wrists and sinewy forearms. His hands were large, tanned and with a little hair on each knuckle.

His face was just as intimidating as his body. Short cropped hair, a chiseled jawline covered with a five o’clock shadow. His full lips turned up at the corners as he smiled at the pup. He was wearing mirrored shades, which added just a hint of mystery to this fine-looking man.

I immediately stopped. After a few minutes, he saw me staring at him. “Hey,” he said with a nod of his head. His voice was a low baritone, and the masculinity of it made me hesitate. “Uh, hi,” I finally replied. “You looking to buy a pup?” I asked. “No. It takes too much work to train them properly. But they sure are cute,” he said. And then silence. I had to keep the conversation going, but how? “You have any other pets?” I asked lamely.

At this point he stood up. He was an inch taller than me, and even more physically intimidating than I originally thought. I could tell, even behind his mirrored glasses that he was looking me over with the same intensity he was previously eyeing the dog.

Now, I’m no slouch. I stand 6 feet tall, with a lean body. I run or swim nearly every day, so my body is taut and defined. I’m naturally smooth, giving me a boyish look – making me seem 5 to 6 years younger than I really am. My best asset, though, is my face. I’m lucky in that regard. People often tell me I look like a young Clark Kent.

After a minute he answered, “I have a cat, named Dom. Want to meet him? I live just down the block.”

“Uh, okay, for a few minutes. I love cats.” I stammered out these last words, blushing with embarrassment. “I’m Mark,” I said, extending my hand. He reached out, grabbing my hand with a very strong grip. “Come on,” he said, leading me down the street. “Right up this way.”

It was a quick walk to his townhouse. Conversation seemed easy, and he spoke with a quick and easy smile that I found very disarming.

As soon as we entered his apartment, he grabbed me by the shirt collar, pushed me up against the door and planted a long, deep kiss on me. His kiss sent an electric current straight through my body. His tongue explored my mouth as his body pressed up against mine, pinning me to the door. It felt too good to be true! “I will do anything you want,” I thought to myself.

After a minute, he released me, grabbing me by the hand to lead me into the living room. “Water? Beer?” he asked. “Uh, water please,” I stammered. As he walked into the kitchen I started looking around for Dom. “So, where’s your cat?” I asked. “Oh… that. I don’t really have one. I just needed a good excuse to ask you over.” I grinned from ear to ear. That seemed incredibly sweet to me at the time.

He came back into the living room, two water glasses in hand. Setting them on the coffee table he pulled me onto the couch. He was no longer wearing his glasses, so I got the first glimpse of his eyes. They were that deep brown color that is almost the same color as the pupil, intense and mysterious. I was now even more taken by him. Sitting side by side, we started kissing again. His lips were incredibly soft, and his stubble felt great brushing against my face. I inhaled deeply to take in his scent – masculine and a bit musky but with a hint of coffee. Perfect. Our hands immediately started exploring each other as we continued to make out. His shoulders were square and hard, his biceps like baseballs. I reached around to his back and felt strong, well-developed lats – the kind you can grab and hang onto. He had his hand on my chest, brushing his thumb down against my nipple through my shirt. By this time, my cock was hard and straining against the 501s I was wearing.

We continued to kiss like this for 5 or 10 blissful minutes, when his hand reached under my t-shirt and started exploring its way across my abs and up to my chest. He found my right nipple with his hand and gave it hard twist. “Ouch!” I yelled as I jumped. “Easy there, cowboy.” He looked me in the eye with a mischievous grin and immediately grabbed my other nipple and gave it the same intense pinch. I protested again, though I noticed my cock was now harder than ever. His kissing had also become a bit more aggressive, and I quickly decided it was time to cool things down.

Standing up, I said, “Wow. That was amazing. Thank you so much for inviting me over. Let me give you my number, maybe we can get together again sometime soon.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” he challenged. I couldn’t tell if his tone was playful or not. “Get back here,” he said, as he reached for me.

“I told you I could only stop by for a minute. I have to meet someone. But like I said, I would love to meet you again sometime.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re one of those cock-teases. Get a man all worked up, and then leave him high and dry.”

“No. No. I swear. I’m not. Lets get together again. Give me your number and I’ll give you a call,” I said.

“Why don’t you finish what you started?” he replied. Again, I had a hard time reading his tone… was he being playful? Or was he angry? At this point, we were both standing and he reached down and grabbed both wrists as he began pressing up against me, pushing me toward the wall. God, he was hot. The nearness of his body, and the feel of his hairy arms brushing against mine was incredibly sexy.

“I really have to leave now,” I said as he pressed his lips up against mine for another kiss. I started to relax into that kiss as he pushed my hands and arms behind my body, wrapping his arms behind me and pulling me closer to him. And then, suddenly, CLICK, I felt cold hard metal against my wrist as I heard the sound of a handcuff being snapped closed.

He immediately spun me around. The next thing I knew he slammed me up against the wall face first, locking my other wrist in the cuff.

“The fuck?” I think. “What are you doing?” I ask angrily.

“I’m teaching you a lesson, boy. Nobody likes a fucking cock-tease. You messed with the wrong guy.” He said this right in my ear as he continued to roughly push me into the wall, grinding his hips up against my leg. At this point, I realized he was serious.

“I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on. Now just release me and we’ll pretend this never happened,” I said.

By now he had turned me back around, facing him. His face was as close to mine as it could be without touching. And as he spoke, I could feel his hot breath on my face. “Oh, it happened all right. And it’s going to keep on happening. I’m teaching you a lesson you won’t soon forget, you cock-sucking faggot.”

How was it possible, that as soon as he called me a cock-sucking faggot, I got harder than I already was? I was so turned on right then, and totally confused by my mix of emotions.

“ But, I…” and as I started to talk he grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me down on my knees. He then grabbed the back of my head and pushed it into his crotch. I could totally feel the power of his legs against my head, but more impressively, the outline of his very rock-hard cock against my cheek. I didn’t have to be told what to do. I immediately started working my mouth up against his cock through the Adidas tracksuit. It was hard and thick and the size of it both impressed and thrilled me. He was grinding my head into his crotch harder and harder, virtually humping my face.

The next thing I know, he pushed me face down onto the floor. Straddling my waist, I was totally trapped under the weight of his body. He grabbed a couple of bandanas from a drawer below the coffee table, forced one of them into my mouth, gagging me and used the other to tie it in place. I was struggling against him, but with my arms in the handcuffs, I was powerless to fight him off. He then produced a length of rope from the same drawer and immediately began to bind my ankles together.

I was starting to get scarred. I mean, I didn’t know this guy at all. In fact, I realized that he never even told me his name. And no one knew where I was. What had I gotten myself into?

After my legs were securely tied, he got off me. “Sit up,” he commanded. I could hear a total shift in his voice. The once charming, winking hunk I was making out with, was now an intimidating Alpha. I flopped myself over, and with a few good pushes from my shoulder managed to get myself up into a sitting position. He slowly looked me over, assessing I-don’t-know-what. But with the gag still firmly in my mouth I was in no position to ask.

“Stand,” he says. His tone left no room for hesitation, so I maneuvered my legs below me and stood up as quickly as I could, trying not to lose my balance in the process. He grabbed me, and in one quick move, drove his shoulder into my waist forcing me to fall against him as he picked me up, carrying me like a sack of potatoes. We crossed the room and he opened a door I hadn’t noticed before and began carrying me down the stairs that were hidden behind it. It was dark downstairs and at this point I was really getting scared. “Never let them take you to a second location,” my father’s safety advice echoed in my ear. We reached the bottom of the stairs and he quickly crossed the room, still in darkness, the only light coming from the open door above. He finally stopped and dropped me backward onto a padded flat surface, about the height of the bed, but not as comfortable.

I was trying to gather my wits, as he reached up and pulled a cord to turn on a single bare light bulb above my head. We were in a room about 12’ x 12’. It was sparsely furnished with a long padlocked cabinet against one wall and a curtain against another. The only other furniture in the room was the bench I was lying on. It was the size and shape of a bed, but I was positioned across the short side of it so my legs and head were hanging off either side. Straight above me I could see a number of hooks, cables and pulleys. What was this room?

“Don’t move,” he suddenly barked. And for some reason, I didn’t. I suddenly felt very small, helpless and completely weak. He reached above me and grabbed something hanging above my head. It was a dog collar, and he quickly secured it around my neck, giving it a firm tug. The irony was not lost on me.

With that, my flight-instinct kicked in and I began to thrash about. He immediately straddled my body again, pinning me to the table. He grabbed both of my nipples hard, through my t-shirt bringing tears to my eyes. “Stop it right now!” he yelled.

“There are two ways to do this, the hard way, or the easy way. But either way, I am going to teach you a lesson, you fucking cock-tease. You are going to learn to show some RESPECT. You are going to learn your PLACE. Understand, faggot?”

I slowly shook my head in agreement. And with that he released the grip on my nips, but continued that hard stare straight into my eyes. “You going to cooperate?” He asked, and I gave a hesitant nod of my head.

He slowly got off me and removed my shoes. Then he began to loosen the ropes that held my feet together. When he got them untied, he reached up, undid my pants, and pulled them straight off my legs with one solid pull. I wanted to try to stand but I knew the effort would be futile. He was twice my size, and my hands were still rendered totally useless.

He grabbed my left ankle and secured it in an iron ankle cuff, and then did the same to my right ankle. Then he attached both cuffs to the end of a spreader bar so my legs were forced wide apart. Next, he attached the spreader to ropes hanging down from two of the pulleys from the ceiling, and hoisted up the bar so my legs were straight above my body. I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, realizing that my tight white briefs was all that was keeping my ass from being totally exposed.

Then he walked around the table so he was standing near my head. His crotch was at face level, and I could see the outline of a huge erection outlined in the fabric of the Adidas warm ups. Again, my cock unexpectedly throbbed at this sight.

He slowly rocked my body to the left and pulled my cuffed hands out to the side, quickly unlocking my right wrist and bringing it out from under me, extending it to the corner of table where he quickly re-cuffed me. Then he did the same with my other arm. I was now flat on my back with my arms away from me spread eagle fashion.

He stood there, looking down at me and a huge smile crossed his face. “Very nice,” he said. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” And with that, he walked across the room to the locked cabinet. I heard him fiddling with the lock and then he opened both its doors, I couldn’t see that well, but I could sense that this cabinet was full of “equipment,” the likes of which I could only start to imagine.

After a few seconds of fumbling around, he produced a pair of scissors and came back over to me. First he cut off my t-shirt exposing my smooth chest. He ran his hand once again over my defined abs and up toward my nipple, which was slightly erect after the pinching I had endured. “Very nice,” he said again. “We are going to have a lot of fun.” His tone was almost soothing at this point.

Next he proceeded to cut off my briefs. My cock immediately sprang straight up. He slapped my dick… HARD. I groaned loudly through the gag, as tears welled in my eyes. “Someone is really enjoying this I see…” he said, looking at my erection. And immediately slapped my cock again. It really hurt, but did nothing to lessen my raging hard-on.

He went back to his cabinet, put the scissors back and grabbed a number of items. The first thing he did upon his return was to attach two straps to the table that he pulled across my body, one at the waist just below the navel, and the other across the chest, just above my nipples, successfully strapping my torso down, firmly holding me in place. This rendered me totally helpless and made it impossible for me to move at all.

Next, he grabbed my testicles roughly, twisting them as he did so. I writhed in pain, but was helpless to get a way. He quickly looped a rope around the base of my ball sack and attached the other end up round another pulley from the ceiling, pulling my balls up and away from my body. This forced my hard-on flat against my belly and he gave a slap to my cock and balls for good measure. By now the tears were spilling from my eyes, straight down my temples and into my hair. He came around the table and gently kissed both eyes. “Don’t cry just yet, sweet boy… I haven’t even begun to teach you your lessons.”

He then began rubbing my chest with both hands, his fingers caressing my nipples. I was just starting to relax into his touch when he pinched the right one hard and attached a clamp to it, and then proceeded to do the same with the left. The suddenness of the movement was like a punch to the gut, and I felt the pace of my heart and my breathing quicken with the sting of the action.

Lastly, he moved down by my ass and gave both cheeks a hard slap, the force of the blow making the table move, jerking painfully on my tied balls. Then he started playing with my hole, forcing his fingers into my orifice roughly. “No, No, No, No, No,” I screamed into the gag, but only a muffled response came out. I then saw a rather large butt plug in his hand. He was applying lube to it and the next thing I know it was pressing hard against my closed anus. “Relax,” he said. “Breathe. It will be much easier that way,” and with that he pushed it into the hilt. My anus clamped down on it hard, pulling it in and locking it in place. My ass felt like it was on fire. “Now that’s a good pussy boy,” he said with another open handed slap to my ass.

“I’m going to go prepare myself,” he said. “Take this time to think about your cock-teasing ways. I’ll be back.”

He left me there, naked, bound, gagged, plugged, and alone. And for the first time in my life, scarred as shit.

 

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank the author, New York Cheech, for this story!