Owen was bored with his office job at a large design firm. He piddled about, unsatisfied that a newly earned college degree from an Ivy league school wasn’t bearing fruit. Perhaps majoring in Art History was a bad idea. As he came to and from the elevators to work every day, he paid little mind to the chaos in the lobby. A large suite on the first floor adjacent to the lobby was under heavy construction. Noise, dust, and a flurry of dirty laborers going in and out of a large plastic tarp draped over the entrance to the area.
Several days in to the mess, however, one of the construction workers caught Owen’s eye. The blue-collar worker was young, maybe just a few years older than Owen. Lean and handsome. Clean cut. Perhaps a mix of white and Latino. Always in a basic t-shirt that showed off his muscle toned arms, blue jeans, and a baseball cap turned backwards. And, the same pair of beat up large work boots. Size 12 or 13?
Owen took as many smoke breaks as he could to justify trips through the lobby or an outdoor area where he often saw the stud. He barely even smoked and never at work.
He secretly took pictures of the sexy broey man. Pretending to be texting on his phone. Particularly his footwear. The thick, tan work boots were scuffed up and well used. Owen had a “foot fetish.” He dreamed of licking his smelly feet.
One evening, after a long day at work, he saw the stud talking on his mobile phone in the lobby. Building security was gone. No one else around.
The attractive worker was a bit filthy with sweat stains under the armpits of his t-shirt. He was taking swigs of water from a thermos with the word “Stuckey” written on a strip of tape. His name, Owen gathered.
Boldly, Owen stood close and took more photos of him with his iPhone. The dude looked over at Owen with a glare as he wrapped his call! Was he busted?
“Hey!” the guy shouted. Owen pretended it wasn’t towards him, stupidly because he was the only other soul in the lobby.
Owen walked away but was abruptly grabbed. The sexy man threw him against the wall. He pinned one of his arms behind his back.
“I know what you’ve been doing, pervert!”
“Hey!! What the fuck?!” Owen yelled, playing ignorant.
The laborer cupped his hand over Owen’s mouth. “Mmmhh!”
Owen was a lanky, blond pretty boy but strong and capable. Part shame and perhaps excitement didn’t trigger a “fighting for his life” response. He struggled half-heartedly.
He was taken past the thick plastic sheets that cordoned off the suite under construction. The area was mostly gutted with exposed wall frames, wood pieces, tool tables. Unoccupied.
“Mmhhh Mhhh!” Owen continued to moan underneath the guy’s hand.
The young man was thrown on the concrete floor, face down. He felt the weight of the guy’s body sitting uncomfortably on top, pinning his arms to the sides with his legs and knees.
“Shut the fuck up!” Stuckey said.
The worker pulled a used bandana from his back pocket and shoved it in Owen’s mouth.
“You spit that out and start yelling, I’ll beat the shit out of you. Yea?”
Owen nodded, obediently letting the gag remain. His hands were tied behind his back with some kind of nylon rope.
He was forced back on his feet and pushed against a drywall, this time facing the dude. Stuckey took his cell phone and held it to his face. Since it was the iPhone X with facial recognition, it conveniently unlocked the cellphone.
“Let’s see your pics…” the guy muttered.
Terrified, Owen spit out the sweaty bandana and pleaded, “Please! Don’t… plea…Mmphhh!”
The man cupped his hand over Owen’s mouth once more and punched him in the stomach. In agony, Owen was led over to an area where most of the tools were stored. Stuckey grabbed a duct tape roll and taped his mouth. He was forced back on the floor and hogtied with more cord. Even tighter!
The young man now fully panicked. Bound and well gagged.
He trembled on the floor, balled up helplessly. Able to look up just enough to see the dude thumbing through his photos. Right there was all the evidence. A couple dozen photographs of the stud. He was embarrassed.
“Wow… unbelievable… shit!” the young worker said reacting to all those pics of himself. “I fuckin’ knew it!” he laughed. “Faggot!”
It was humiliating.
“Preppy boy has a foot fetish!” Stuckey teased.
The blue collar stud threatened to “out” Owen to all of his contacts on his phone by sending those pictures.
“Mmmph,” Owen whimpered, shaking his head. Tied up and powerless to do anything.
The sexy young worker sat on the floor in front of Owen, legs splayed out. He took a swig of warm beer from a can he grabbed off a table. He unlaced his trashed work boots and pulled them off. A faint, warm must of smelly foot odor escaped.
The sweaty socks on his feet looked like they’d been worn a few days. Fruit of the Loom crew socks. Some kind of cotton synthetic blend that made the fabric contour perfectly around his beautiful big feet. All white except for the bottom which was grey colored leading up to heel and toe.
The tall, slim toned Stuckey scooted back and extended his legs, placing his socked feet in Owen’s face.
“Sniff ’em!” he said taking more sips of beer.
Owen was reluctant out of embarrassment but after more taunting and the man’s foot kicking him in the chin, he succumbed.
The preppy boy dug his nose in the arch of the guy’s feet and took in the moist, musty scent of his socks. Owen was conservative and modest at first. The aroma of the guy’s smelly socks and feet was such an aphrodisiac, however, he eventually indulged. Whiffing every corner and curve. He lifted his head enough to plant his nose in-between the toes pressing into the sock fabric. Inhaling with deep breaths through his nostrils.
The blue-collar man’s feet had a delightful smell but weren’t overwhelming.
“This turn you on?” Stuckey asked.
He flipped Owen over and pulled down his pants. Owen’s designer briefs told no lies. His boner popped in the sheer fabric of the underwear.
“Yup! You are a little fag, ha hah,” he chuckled.
Stuckey returned Owen on his stomach. He removed his socks. He pressed his sweaty feet into his face, wiggling his toes between his nose.
The young contractor rubbed his own crotch over his jeans, getting aroused and wicked minded.
Stuckey took a box cutter to the cords and released Owens hogtie but left his hands bound behind his back. He yanked off his shoes and pants. Unbuttoned his collar shirt.
Owen was propped up and made to sit on his knees with his face just inches from Stuckey’s crotch.
Stuckey unbuttoned his dirty blue jeans and dropped them down his thighs.
His underwear were mid-rise white briefs. “Tighty-whities.” Jockey brand. Though they looked worn but still showed a nice bulge at the crotch.
Owen, having an underwear fetish, loved the sight of the sweaty briefs. He leaned in and sniffed the stud’s crotch. To his elation, the underwear reeked. Much higher on the “raunchy meter” than his socks, an 8 out of 10!
Stuckey pulled down the underwear letting out his semi-hard cock. A nicely sized, proportionate dick but large hanging balls. A thick nest of dark, curly pubic hair around them. And of course, a wonderful foul fragrance of crotch sweat.
Without being told, Owen buried his nose into his ball sack. Sniffing all he could. He had gotten over his panic and inhibitions.
Stuckey liked it and was jerking off his dick standing above. He leaned down and removed Owen’s tape gag.
Owen licked the guy’s sweaty nuts. Tasting his salty, masculine nut butter on his tongue.
Stuckey moaned, getting harder. Owen sucked his nut sack clean, including digging his tongue into the swampy crevices at his thighs.
Though his hands were tied behind him, making balance difficult, he leaned under Stuckey and tasted his “guch” the area between his groin and ass. The raunchy flavor exciting his taste buds.
Stuckey was so turned on, he was in the mood for more. He grabbed Owen by his hair and brought him to his feet so the pair were face to face again.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” the broey stud coolly stated. “Rape your hole.”
Owen froze, returning to fear. He wasn’t very experienced in anal sex nor particularly turned on by it. He wasn’t presented with a choice, however.
Stuckey struck him a deal he couldn’t refuse. If Owen allowed Stuckey to fuck him and kept quiet about it, those pictures wouldn’t get posted.
Owen had a counter.
“Will you gag me with your underwear? And tie me up again?” Owen sheepishly asked.
Owen leaned into Stuckey’s t-shirt right into his armpit. “I love your body odor.”
Stuckey laughed and shook his head.
“Please… take off your shirt,” Owen asked wanting to lick his armpits.
The handsome contractor took off his smelly underwear. He wiped it around his crotch, lifted his shirt and wiped them under his armpits. “Well, the gag is definitely a good idea.”
He balled the underwear up and shoved it in Owen’s willing mouth.
“Mmhh!” Owen delighted.
“Stay there…” Stuckey chuckled, mockingly slapping Owen on his cheek.
Naked from the waist down the stud – only in his ballcap and t-shirt – strutted over to a corner. He had a beautiful, tight ass.
There were a pair of sawhorses Stuckey moved to the center and positioned them side by side. He placed a cut piece of drywall board on top of them. He took a hammer and nailed the board to the wooden sawhorses. Then he threw a padded work blanket over top.
As Stuckey walked back, he stroked his hard cock. Then he stripped naked.
His sweaty body was cut like an MMA fighter, fit and trim. Lean muscled. Tight abs. A trail of light hair between his pecs that ran down and past his belly button.
He replaced his ballcap flashing a glimpse of those deep contoured armpits Owen badly wanted to lick.
The nude bad boy grabbed Owen, his hands still tied behind him, and bent him over the drywall. “Stay down!” he ordered. Owen nodded. “Spread your legs.” Owen did.
Stuckey duct taped Owen’s ankles to the legs of the sawhorses below. He took the box cutter to his bound wrists and released them. It was a relief since the small cord had burrowed into his flesh. He pulled off Owen’s dress shirt. Owen didn’t resist as Stuckey taped his wrists to the sawhorse legs on the opposite end.
Owen was naked, taped down spread eagle over the custom “fuck table” made of sawhorses and a drywall top. His butt perfectly bent over the end of the platform.
Stuckey slapped his butt a couple times. “I’m gonna fuck you silly!” he boasted.
He spread the young man’s butt cheeks and inspected his hole with a finger, lightly poking inside. “You’re fucking tight for a gay boy.” He playfully brushed his finger up and down tickling the little hairs of around his hole.
He took a few more swigs of the warm beer. He slushed it around in his mouth and spat into Owen’s crack.
He stuck a finger into his butthole, lubricated by beer and saliva. Then two fingers, leaning down and blasting more spit.
“Mmmhh!” Owen groaned from the prodding.
Stuckey jerked off some more, now rock hard. He slowly began inserting his dick into Owen’s ass.
“Mmphh! Mmmhhh!!!” Owen groaned louder through his underwear gag. He wiggled about unable to move because of all that tape strapping him to the sawhorse. Instead the wood posts shifted, screeching on the smooth concrete floor.
Stuckey went deeper and finally fully inside of Owen. He started thrusting back and forth with his hips, pumping his dick in and out of Owen’s asshole.
The wood of the sawhorses was making creaking sounds from all that motion.
Owen moaned and gyrated, twisting his head about, feeling the wonderful mix of ecstasy and agony of anal sex. He was tight. Not used to being fucked. The discomforting feeling of the adhesive tape ripping out the hairs at his wrists and ankles, too.
Stuckey continued raping his hole, thrusting and pumping. Spanking his ass as he taunted him with clichés like, “Yea.. little bitch” or “take that!”
Owen grunted through the underwear, coping with the pain best he could as the sound of Stuckey’s sweaty thighs clapping against Owen’s bare ass echoed in the construction site. He was losing his erection from all that discomfort. His dick was pressed against the padded blanket uncomfortably, buried underneath his body.
Stuckey, however, lifted his torso, grabbed his cock and pulled it back so it sprang out, away from the table’s edge. Pointing down. Stuckey slowly stroked Owen’s dicks every once in a while to get him more in the zone as he plowed the boy.
“Mmmmhhhh!” Owen moaned with pleasure.
Being stimulated helped Owen let go of his tense posture from the discomfort of being ass raped. Most of the pain subsided.
The wood sawhorses continued to rock and creak, shifting on the concrete floor.
The young contractor was an ass fucking machine. Drilling the preppy young office worker.
He spanked him harder across his sweaty ass.
Owen started to love being topped by the tall, masculine dude.
Stuckey was starting to moan louder. He cocked back his head and squinted his eyes. “Ohh, fuck! I’m gonna shoot!”
He pulled out his dick and shot a load of semen all over Owen’s ass and back. Owen felt the spray of sticky warm fluid on his skin.
Stuckey reinserted his cock and fucked him a bit more as he grabbed Owen’s hard dick below and jerked him off.
Owen moaned louder and louder through his gag, with one last long “Mmmhhh!”
He felt exhilarated, high. Ready.
The boy nutted all over the concrete floor. Stuckey pulled out and patted him on the butt.
They were sweaty and flushed. Stuckey grabbed his socks from the floor and used them as a cum rag. He wiped the pool of semen and sweat from himself and Owen.
“Watch this!” he said, stuffing one of the socks into the other, making a ball. He skillfully tossed them in to a trash bin several yards away like a basketball player making a three-pointer.
Stuckey put on his dusty work jeans; going commando without underwear. He walked shirtless and barefoot over to a plastic flap and opened it up, exposing an outdoor area. He lit up a cigarette.
Owen was left tied down spread eagle on the sawhorses, gasping in blissful exhaustion. Feeling the chill of wind on his sweaty flesh and smelling the faint smoke. Still tasting the stud’s underwear in his mouth.
Stuckey returned, grabbed his work boots off the floor and put them on his bare feet since his spunk covered socks were trashed.
Owen was released from the tape bondage. Stuckey used box cutters to tear off the tape. He also grabbed the saliva soaked dirty underwear and tossed it in the trash, same as with the socks.
They had light banter as they smoked another cigarette. They shared the rest of the warm beer from the can. The stud confirmed indeed his name was Stuckey, his last name. First name: Lance. He was an electrician on the job site. Owen said something to the effect he was surprised he was gay to which Lance corrected he was a straight guy. Just “a little bi-curious” sometimes. No kissing. He doesn’t suck cock. “Definitely not in to getting fucked” he laughed.
Owen dressed up in his nice work clothes getting damp from the continuing sweat the poured from his body. He said he’d delete the pictures. Lance shrugged, not carrying one way or another. Owen laced up his socks and dress shoes. There was mention of another time which elated Owen.
As the young preppy office worker walked away from the construction site – his ass feeling so sore – he reached into the trash bin and grabbed Stuckey’s cum stained sweaty socks and soaked underwear. Bits of sawdust collected on them. He stuffed them into his pants pocket and left.
Metal would like to thank SockgaggedJason for this story!