The Debt – Part 4

By Pup Shaggy

Another sharp turn and he slid across the floor, bumping into something. Hunter just laughed from the front seat.

“Sorry pup, they really ort’ fill in these pot holes.” He felt an arm on his shoulder, and he realised Spencer must of slid into the back of the driver’s seat.

“Didn’t think to chain you down before, just wanted to get you back home,” he apologised. The car slowed to a halt at some traffic lights. All Spencer could hear was a ‘click’ as Hunter padlocked the leather collar – still itself padlocked on to his neck- to a ring in the floor up against the back of the driver’s seat. “That should keep you still. And in arms reach too. Just where I like you.” The hand gently stroked his shoulder, as if to reassure him. It did little to calm his nerves or silence the slight twinge in his ear, or the weight in his sore balls. But the hand quickly left him to return to the steering wheel as the lights turned green.

“We’ll be on the motorway soon. That’ll be nice and smooth, hopefully. I’ll be able to grope that cage of yours some, Bet your rock hard at this point aren’t ya? Hope your balls are still intact, not that getting you snipped would be such a horrendous idea, since you’re a dog.”

Spencer cringed at the thought exhaustion started to sink in. Motorway? Just where was he being taken? There was no point to being quiet anymore, he’d broken that already and paid the price for it, so he let out a loud and long whimper, grunting miserably behind the layers of his gag. fear had welled up in him several times by now, but it never settled for long: being over taken by tiredness, and then lust. He had no clue where he was going and that fact was making him horny as it would for any slave. As far as he knew, he could be driven half way across the country, the continent even. And after driving for that long, Hunter could really do just about anything to him. His cock strained to break free once more, he had to shut his eyes as his balls were tugged at by the ring that kept it all on.

True to his word, the van suddenly picked up speed as they entered the motorway; Spencer now held in place by the large lock on his collar. Before long, Hunters hand returned as well, starting at his still exposed nipple. The nipple clamps had been pulled off in all the excitement and he must have mistaken it for a slap to his balls. Either way he was happy to be rid of them, welcoming instead the cool gentle hand which lightly played with the ring of flesh, chilled by the air thanks to his ripped open shirt. Teasingly he pinched it, once more Spencer releasing a low whimpering sound, pulling his hands and kicking his feet limply in protest, but he was Hunters play thing and he long knew this by now. Hunter played on, giving a faint scratch here and there, a pinch or two for good measure; the hand slowly moved down his chest, up his thigh, and down again to his locked cock just as it tried to get hard again. He laughed as he felt the cage stiffen in his hand and his toy groan quietly.

“Still trying to get hard aren’t you pup? Must be torture for you eh? Not being able to get hard.” He flicked his balls, an act that by itself would have caused no pain but already bruised and beaten, Spencer yelped. “Bet they’re right cramped in that cage aren’t they?” He flicked his balls again, another shrill shriek, grunting and nodding as if that’d get him to stop. He tried to roll over on to his belly, protecting himself; but the collar was padlocked in such a way that he couldn’t roll. His back was firmly placed against the back of the front seats, his bare feet bent just behind his arse.

The kid’s groans were cute to Hunter: hell, any gagged guys groans were cute. But, he wanted more than just grunts. Giving up with flicking, he moved on to tugging, which coupled with a chastity cage only made the effect seem worse for Spencer as he whined and his breathing sharpened.. It took him a moment to get them both in his hand: he was driving after all. But soon as both balls were firmly in his grasp, he gave them a gentle pull. He could hear Spencer shuffle, his breathing stiffen and his body clench. But only a quiet groan, like a weeping whimper. Obviously he wasn’t pulling hard enough…

That was a bit better… but still not enough to satisfy Hunter. It was hard to hear over the engine. Let’s try some more… He kept pulling at his balls, harder and harder until finally, Spencer groans grew from stifled exhausted whimpers to desperate, shrieking which through the muzzle and the boot taped to his face was still pretty quiet.

“Ahh, you are still alive. Wasn’t sure with how quiet you were back there. You’re not nervous are you?” But he didn’t answer.

“Are you?” another sharp tug at his balls and another groan. He laughed.

“Good. You realise that since you broke your promise about being quiet, I can keep you gagged like that all night… right?” in truth, he had plans for Spencer’s mouth, but was enjoying the resigned grunt he got from his pet.

There was silence again in the van for a good several minutes. It felt a lot longer to Spencer who could only lay there and close his mind to everything but the sound of the engine and the feeling of Hunters hand gently stroke his body. It felt so good, to just sit there and be caressed; if his cock wasn’t starting to hurt he could have fallen asleep like that, his mind fogged and his body limp like a noodle. Perhaps he had fallen asleep for a split second, he had no clue, no way of telling beyond the darkness of his blindfold and the constant smell of sweat in his nose.

“I just remembered, I was going to shove a plug up your arse.” Hunter remarked, laughing to himself. “Ah well, guess it’ll just be a bit painful for you when my cock and I fuck you.”

More silence. Not even the radio was put on. It was getting to him. He couldn’t help but start to think of all the things Hunter could do to him; fuck him obviously, but what else? His imagination got the better of him as he started imagining scenarios. They started off simple: tied up in a sleazy hotel somewhere, left bound all night; fucked and beaten; made to beg for anything Hunter wanted him to beg for… say anything he wanted, do anything; only to be left that way: tied up on the bed as Hunter left the room with his wallet, his clothes, and the key to his chastity. Robbed, fucked and spent, he’d be trying to explain it to the house-keeping girl who was un-tying him… or perhaps she wouldn’t un-tie him…

And then things got more complicated: a murky, leaky dungeon somewhere; a pipe dripping luke-warm piss on his head… or worse, right down his throat. Chained to a rafter, muzzled to absolute silence only able to whimper and shake as a white hot brand was coming at him from the gloom with the letter ‘H’ glowing red. The pain would be intense, but worth it.

And then it grew worse: Hunter could sell him to the black-market as a proper slave, or hell just be used beaten and then slowly sent off to eternal sleep by a quick syringe jab.

I’d be lying if he wasn’t turned on by all of those scenarios some way. Maybe he was thinking too much… The alcohol must have been wearing off and inhibitions coming back into force.

He’d started cramping before long; his shoulder was the first to start aching making his hands go numb in their cuffs. Then his legs joined in, Spencer moving them frequently to try ease them, but trapped as he was, there was only so much motion he had.

Before long, there wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t feeling the effects of tiredness or pain or ache. He had to think of something else, just to distract himself, and for whatever reason… His first and only thoughts were of Hunter. The guy that ‘rescued’ him from sucking off some twat in a messy bathroom. A complete stranger, who’d probably only rescued him because he knew… Hunter knew that Spencer needed him. And knew he did. Hunter was adept at finding his prey, out in a crowd, alcohol always made it easier. Most people turned their noses up at him, outfitted the way he was when he entered a space. Or just stared emotionless. He knew how to make an impression. His prey however, those boys who craved more than just a quick BJ or a kiss or two… Boys who craved a deeper connection… a deeper need. There was always a different look in their eyes compared to the norm. Like Spencer’s for example: there was curiosity, at first; that long stare, that gaping mouth in shock… And then lust; that bulging at his crotch, the quickened breath… that gulp… not to mention an awkward half smile that screamed ‘puppy material’. No matter how drunk a kid was, or old, or kinky, or straight… The look was always the same, as was that gulp.

How could Spencer resist his captor? An outfit of dominance, a body of authority and strength; he could still taste the cum on his tongue now, or perhaps it was his scent that was overwhelming his senses and fogging his brain. He took in a deep breath inhaling the sweaty, musky stench from the sole of the boot on his face. He could almost see Hunter in his mind. Standing there, his feet resting on his nose. Smiling.

He yelped as his cock made another break for it: erupting yet again at the image in a last-ditch effort for freedom. The only thing that happened was the cage pulled at his balls to the point his tongue curled and his back went rigid. He had to cum. He had to. It throbbed and shook and begged and leaked. He had never experienced this before. It was agony. But that was the point: it wasn’t his cock anymore, at least not for the night. It was only going to be let out when Hunter wanted it…

A pin stuck in his side: what if he didn’t let it out? What if he kept it and him, locked away? Forever needy and begging, forgetting everything but Hunter. He’d forget about school, about work… Friends, family… they’d all disappear until his need and lust consumed him… all he’d want is his cock freed… Until Hunter became all he cared about and all he felt. The thought made his cock pulse and tug at his balls again.

Fuck. What the hell was he going to do?

More time passed in the droning silence of the van, Spencer quickly getting bored at his attempts to sleep and whimpered. It wasn’t loud, only faint. He didn’t really want Hunter to hear it. But time still passed and it kept getting worse and nothing changed in him. Sleep ignored him. Until he whimpered again, and this one Hunter heard.

“Aww, what’s puppy whimpering for back there?” Spencer only whimpered again miserably in reply drained. He didn’t want to speak, but neither could he take it anymore. He had to cum.

“That cage getting to you eh? Just for you kid, I’ll take it off when we get there. Deal?” Spencer fell silent. At least he knew his cock wouldn’t be locked away all night. That was something.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be at mine soon enough.” The van took a sharp corner after what felt like miles of motor ways and turn offs… which all abruptly changed… He heard stones and gravel beneath the wheels as the van drove through the night. The motorway was behind them now, as were the streetlights, or any kind of electric light beyond the headlights of the van that beamed through the darkness.

The van started to jump about violently as the rode became less and less used; till it was nothing but a dirt path. The only thing keeping Spencer still was the padlock connecting his collar to the floor. That didn’t stop his body bouncing up and down against the bed of the van. Every time his body lurched, the collar was pulled taught almost making him choke. He inhaled sharply, taking in another spoonful of ‘Scent Le’ Hunter’ through his nose. He was starting to get a headache until it all stopped and the van came to a standstill. And then the engine died.

Sweet release was one step closer. The driver-side door opened and closed… and footsteps as feet crunched against stones… but they receded… and left Spencer in silence… again…

He could hear wind through leaves, the hoot of birds… but that was it… no cars, no city sounds, not so much as a passer-by. Where the fuck was he? But that wasn’t part of the game. He waited there in the night. Chills started echoing through him as he lay there in darkness. Waiting, for whatever plans were in store for him.

He was left alone for a while, long enough for his cock to give up and the cold air to find its way inside to his bones. He returned to trying to push himself to sleep, closing his mind, but there was nothing he could do, no matter how hard he tried. He just could not sleep the way he was. Then he heard crunching… footsteps… than the side of the van slid open with a chunk.

“Welcome home pup. Nice, quiet and secluded. Perfect place for me to… do anything.” He could hear the smile in his voice. Hunter clambered in and un-clipped the padlock chaining him to the floor. But rather than picking him up, he took off the blindfold. It was pitch black, and it took a while for Spencer’s eyes to adjust. The first he saw was Hunters boot that was still on his face, seeing just how big it was. That didn’t go anywhere. But then a hand came at him from the gloom and started scratching between his eyes. Hunter was sitting inches away from him. Spencer just watched as his body slowly came into view, silhouetted by the vans exterior through the open side door.

“Been a while since I’ve had someone come with me. Sure that alley and me are old friends, and I get plenty of eager boys suck me off. But then that’s it for them, it’s all they fancy.” He laughed. “They don’t want anything else, cowards. I probably do scare them off mentioning the ‘No safe-word’ rule I have. They leave then and there.”

His hand rose to his hairline and started scratching there.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t… take the odd person anyway… I would have taken you.” Spencer’s ears twitched. Back in that alley… If he’d wanted to leave he couldn’t… he hadn’t a choice since he left the club. Or was this all just some brain-fuck? But then again. He wanted this anyway. What did he care?

“But you, actually came willingly.” Another short chuckle. “And not just willingly, but in chastity. Not as much as a negotiation… or a beg…. Someone must really need a good time.”

Pulling him forward and out of the van, Spencer fell to the dirty ground on his knees.

“See? We’re all alone out here.” He really wasn’t kidding. Spencer looked around at his surroundings. Midnight forest as far as he could see; he couldn’t even see the sky or the moon above them. Not a single light was anywhere except the dim ember glow coming out of a window ahead. What he could see of the small house was that it looked like a holiday home or something. It was big for a bungalow; the cliché would of been a wooden cabin. This looked well lived in and inviting, if it wasn’t pitch black outside and he wasn’t kneeling in dirt tied up with a boot strapped to his face….. Hunter’s arms swooped around him as he felt breath against his cheek and ear.

“Figured you’d want to see your new home. We’re nice and alone out here. Hear that?” There was nothing to hear, unless he meant the owl hooting at them. “Pure silence. No-one can hear you scream way out here.” Spencer scanned the horizon, but he couldn’t see anything, not even the silhouette of another house or a cabin, no neighbours. No motorway to run to, no idea of direction or sense of location, nothing. Alarm bells were more like church bells tolling in his head now. But they were just going to have to lump it; he’d agreed to this… and with his legs manacled and hobbled, he didn’t have much choice.

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank Pup Shaggy for this story!

One thought on “The Debt – Part 4”

  1. Boy, he certainly gets the atmosphere going here. You can almost hear the tension building. Great series.

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