By hard slave

The five of us had a standing game for a few years running, first Friday of every month. We alternated hosting, but mostly it was a Jake’s place as he had the most room. We were all a few years out of college back then, had decent jobs — unmarried but able to live on our own. It started with a low cash ante, no heavy bets. We eventually worked our way up, so that the winner usually came away with about 50 bucks. We didn’t need the money, so the stakes were kinda boring to all of us.

One night Jake suggested playing for something else. Let’s try strip poker tonight, he laughed. We nervously laughed along with him, but agreed. The loser of each hand would roll a die and take off corresponding number of garments. I lost first, rolled a 4, no big deal as each shoe counted as one item, same for socks. The game progressed and eventually Jim rolled a 6 ending the game. As he pulled off his briefs, we all hooted and pointed. What jerks.

Soon the strip version became our standard game. I lost one time, having rolled two 6’s in a row ending the game early. The guys made me stay naked the rest of the evening, serving them beer and snacks (it was at my place that night). I was mortified, but oddly enough found myself jerking off to the whole scene when I was alone that night.

After about six months, every one of us had seen each guy naked at least once. Jake suggested a new twist. The first guy naked would be the servant for the rest of the night, just like Joe did that time at his place. We all agreed, and wouldn’t you know I lost again. Later that evening after I had served everyone cold beer and was turning back toward the kitchen to get the nachos, I felt a WHACK across my ass. They all laughed, but no one would say who it was that smacked me (I suspected Jake). To my horror, I felt an erection beginning to show. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed some ice to calm it down before the guys could see it. The rest of the evening went as usual, but I never forgot the feeling of my ass being hit out of my mind (and my reaction to it!).

At the one-year anniversary of Poker night, John suggested upping the ante once again. This time, first guy naked would roll the die again, and take 10 times the amount shown in hits to his ass. Each of the other guys would take turns, using the loser’s own belt. John said, I bet Joe will do his best to lose, and he smirked as he looked at me. I felt myself turn red as the others laughed. We played and thankfully I didn’t lose. When it came to my turn to deliver 20 hits to Jake’s ass (it was already bright red by then) I noticed he was sporting a semi. Interesting, I thought, guess I’m not the only perv who gets off on this.

That year, I found myself counting the days to poker night. Then one night at Jake’s, he said he had a surprise for us. He wouldn’t tell us what it was, but it involved the night’s loser and this bulky duffel bag he had sitting on the floor next to him. We had to agree, sight unseen, that the penalty would involve what was in that bag. No one wanted to chicken out, so we all said ok. Now you may be guessing that I lost that night, but I didn’t. As luck would have it, Jake himself was the loser. He looked horrified as we opened the duffel bag. Jim pulled out leather cuffs, a collar, a ball gag and some clothesline. There was also a note, written by Jake, instructing the winners how to cuff, collar and hogtie the loser of the night. We all looked at Jake and smiled.

We kept Jake hogtied and gagged all night. He grunted and groaned, protesting, but thanks to his detailed instructions, he could not escape the bonds no matter how hard he struggled (and struggle he did!). We kept him confined for about four hours total. Funny thing is, we all noticed that he sported a raging boner the whole time he was tied up! At one point I glanced over at Jim, and caught him adjusting his package. Of course I had seen Jim naked more than a few times by then and I knew he was a grower not a shower, so when I saw how massive his bulge looked I realized how aroused he was by the whole scene.

Thing changed after that night. Jason dropped out of the group. In retrospect I think he was actually straight (unlike the rest of us who had yet to come to terms with our own sexual identities). Over the next six months each of us had spent the night in bondage at least once. We four continued our poker nights, and in fact at one point decided the loser would stay hogtied and gagged all night. One of us would sleep on the couch to make sure the loser was ok, checking on him from time to time.

The memory of my hogtied night still gets my hard. The cuffs were on my wrists and ankles, the collar locked in place and ball gag secured. Jake ran a clothesline from my collar to a parachute he had bought and put on my sac so that whenever I would try to take pressure off my aching back, I’d end up yanking on my own balls.

Later that year, Jake told us he added another item to the duffel bag. He wouldn’t say what it was, but once again we all had to agree to allow it to be used on us should we lose at poker. Jake lost the first hand, spun a 6, and removed his shoes, socks, shirt and belt. I thought for sure he’d once again be the guinea pig for his own twisted plan. But it was not to be. After John lost the next hand (and rolled only a 2) I lost and rolled a 4. The next round, I lost again and rolled a 5. Shit. Off came my shirt, undershirt, belt and khakis. My tighty-whities were all that was left. I yanked them down as the other clapped and opened up the duffel. John found it first, and wouldn’t let me see what it was. They told me to kneel as they locked me in the collar and wrist and ankle cuffs. They tied my wrists behind my back and to my ankles, so I was forced to remain in the kneeling position. Then they blindfolded me. I knew that the gag would come next, but instead of the usual ball gag I felt a 4-inch tube in my mouth, attached to a mouthpiece, that was strapped and locked behind my head. Next came a clamp of some sort on my nose, of all places, that held my nostrils firmly closed. It was strange, I could feel holes along the tube with my tongue, and I could easily breathe through it, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not push it out of my mouth.

They removed the blindfold and I watched as they attached a funnel to the front of my gag. I moaned as I started to understand what was coming — sure enough, Jake approached the funnel, standing in front of me, and unzipped his jeans. He pulled out his familiar huge tool that I had discreetly admired and aimed it at the top of the funnel. After what seemed like ten minutes, I saw and heard the beginning of his piss stream. I thought this must be a joke, but john and Jim held me down in place as Jake emptied his bladder. I could not cover all those holes with my tongue, and with my nostrils clamped they were my only access to air. I had no choice but to swallow his urine as fast as I could, gulping it down so I could gasp for air. I could not believe how much piss he had in him, and how sour it tasted. I struggled in vain to get away, but John and Jim’s strong arms held me down until Jake finally finished. I watched him shake the last few drops off his dick, just like he’d do in a men’s room, and to my further humiliation he wiped his cock on my face, zipped up, and said, to my horror, ok, who’s next?

Metal would like to thank hard slave for this story!