Gay Erotic Stories

The text message came up on my cell phone around 4:00 Tuesday. Dale sent me a web address, and instructions to log on that evening at precisely 11:00. I was pretty agitated by the time my appointment on line rolled around. Dale was exceptionally good-looking, but more, he was incredibly powerful.

Obviously a billionaire, his wealth could probably not be accurately counted. I had been recommended to him by a mutual acquaintance, and he had “booked” me for a little social occasion a couple weeks ago at his mansion by the lake. It was an intimate gathering of about 30 men that you can read about in the first episode of this tale. There had originally been three of us, a trio of agony, and the floorshow in a gathering of men with very particular tastes. After the first night the pretty boy Eric dropped out, the punishment far too extreme. He was sent back to New York on the jet, and I never heard from him again.

The Latin kid Felix and I decided to stay for the rest of the weekend. Dale had sweetened the pot with an additional thou deposited into our bank accounts. I had never been put through such humiliating and painful torment before, even with Kevin, the devil who recommended me to Dale in the first place. I had been paired with an ogre they called Bull, a huge black man with a penis that looked unreal, like a movie prop from a monster flick. It was easily fourteen inches, and as fat as a wine bottle. He had been named because of his bull dick, and the audience cheered at the sight of the big ebony log disappearing into my little white ass strapped firmly into the fuck bench.

Felix the fiery little Latin boy had been duct-taped into a cocoon, only his sweet peach of an ass exposed, and he had been brutally fisted by a sumo-wrestler type, his big ham-hock arm imbedded into poor Felix up to his bulky bicep. Looking across the room at the silver lump impaled on the sumo guy’s hand like a quivering puppet, I felt lucky to have been chosen to get Bull’s attentions. Considering the options, I had gotten away easy.

Eric, the angelic blonde, had been crucified on a cross of planks and tortured with clamps and weights on his nipples and balls. I’m really into CBT, so I sort of envied Eric. He didn’t feel the same, and whimpered and cried through the whole scene. The tears made him look even more like a fallen saint, and the crowd just ate it up. His tormentor had been a huge mountain man, black curly hair across every inch of his body, like a beast. His beard grew long and wavy from his chin, stopping about midway down his powerful chest. His greasy hair hung down his back like a lion’s mane. He looked Neanderthal: stupid, gruff and brutish. His fat uncut cock hung heavily between meaty thighs, thick and crossed with veins. The velvety foreskin draped in folds over a knob-shaped head.

I didn’t know that first night, but I was to get my wish. Night two of the party we all switched partners. I lost my incredibly hot black Bull to Felix, who was still so stretched out from the fisting that I doubted he would even feel the Bull‘s phenomenal dick in his loose cavern of an asshole. The enthusiastic little spitfire took the Bull’s 14 with gusto, sitting firmly on it like he was riding a bucking bronco. The sumo was slated to torment a new kid, a freckled redhead, which was brought in to replace Eric. And the mountain man came down to me.

I felt honored as I was lashed onto the cross and hoisted up into the smoky room, like I was being adored. The crowd loved me, they loved my capacity for pain, I was being worshipped. I thanked the monstrous brute for his attentions as the weights were layered on, the alligator clamps pulling harshly on my tender pink nipples. The men licked hungrily at my legs and feet, shouting encouragement as the leather strap pulled my balls closer to the floor with every pound of iron hung from them.

The website took me to a cam, and before me I saw Dale in an elegant chrome and mahogany office somewhere. I thought the skyline beyond the plate glass window looked vaguely familiar, but I knew it wasn’t New York. He was dressed casually, in a sweater and jeans. His bitch-boi was kneeling at his side, his head lying on Dale’s lap like an adoring puppy. I turned on my cam for Dale to see.

“Hello, Jimmy. It’s wonderful to see you again. I cannot thank you enough for the wonderful weekend you provided for my guests and me. I am completely amazed at your capacity to take abuse. You are truly a gifted young man.” He said calmly, as his bitch rubbed his cheek against Dale’s thigh. “I can only tell you that my guests are clamoring to discover who you are and what your availability is. I will of course maintain your confidentiality, and only help you make connections that you find acceptable.”

If Dale only knew! The two thousand dollars that he deposited in my account was just a bonus. The experience had been life changing for me, and I would jump at the chance to do it again...even if I had to pay him! Of course, he didn’t need to know that, and the generous deposits had gotten me back on my feet when I needed help badly.

“I would feel personally grateful if you would consider joining our group again this weekend. I know it’s short notice, but it would be a favor to me if you would. I am investing some resources into refurbishing our playroom, and I think you might be very impressed with some of the apparatus and toys we have available for your, um... pleasure?” He confided in his sexy baritone voice.

It was the same drill as last time, the thousand dollars was electronically transferred Friday afternoon, and the Escalade picked me up a couple hours later and took me to the airport for the short flight north to the lake. However, I was alone this trip and I wondered if I was going solo this weekend or if the other boys were already there. The house was as magnificent as I remembered, illuminated like a fairytale castle, glittering on the edge of the placid moonlit lake. I was taken to the dressing room and left alone. A large vase of tropical flowers rested on a side table. I read the card and smiled.

“Jimmy: This weekend is all about you, my magnificent victim. May your pain be as memorable and intense for you, as it will be for your adoring audience!”

Frightening, threatening and utterly exciting words. The card didn’t need a signature; the flowers were from my patron, Dale. Two boys came into the room, dressed only in boxer briefs and boots. They were not part of the festivities, but were there to prepare me for my ordeal. They carefully removed my clothing, folding and hanging each item as if my jeans and tee were made of cashmere. Stroking my smooth body, they quickly shaved off any unwanted hair they discovered that might make me look less fragile, less vulnerable. My armpits and pubic hairs were trimmed down to about a half-inch, and my legs were shaved clean. My face was also shaved, so I looked as child-like as possible. A man in a shirt and tie came in and offered me a glass of wine. I sipped the ruby-red liquid as he spoke.

“My name is Phillip. I am going to give you something that I think you will be grateful for. If you accept, I will fill this hypodermic with a cocktail of painkillers and mild hallucinogenic, all very natural and relatively harmless in these dosages.” He stated with calm assurance. “I think the shot will help you deal with your chosen experience, and certainly make the show more interesting to your audience, as you will be less inhibited and more receptive to your ministrations.”

I didn’t think for more than a second, and I held out my arm for the needle. I had heard of “snuff” parties, where men had been killed for the pleasure of the audience. Often the ritual killings are filmed, for continued enjoyment. I trusted Dale to take this as far as possible, but to not cross into that dark realm of death; if for no other reason, I would no longer be available to him and his club for future engagements if they snuffed me.

I sat naked on the couch, sipping the Merlot as the drug took effect. I felt flushed, like my blood was rushing to my skin and warming my flesh. The music coming from the party room next door began to echo in my brain. My fingers felt numb, and I felt detached from my situation, as if I was watching myself from across the room. It was a delicious feeling, and I remember thinking that I had to find Phillip before the end of the weekend for a doggy bag of this stuff.

The boys came back in, and helped me to my feet. I was woozy, but stable enough to walk. The door opened and I stepped into a bright spotlight in Dale’s cavernous hall of anguish. Showtime!

“Gentlemen, It is my profound pleasure to welcome back, at your demand, the incredible Jimmy!” Dale shouted to the room from his throne against the far wall. The audience of about 80 men turned to me and roared their approval.

The room had been redone since my last appearance. The bar, with three naked bartenders, was now directly under the huge crystal chandelier and a raised area had been built around it in a circle. There were many contraptions; scaffolds, bars and benches set up on the circular stage. This way, the men in the audience could interact with each other on the couches and platform beds on the outside as they watched the show, or sit at the bar on the inside and view the action. In my drug-induced haze I saw many couples and groups already getting into scenes of there own, on the leather upholstered furniture. I saw the Bull out there, bare-chested, his heavily muscled arm around an elegant gray haired man’s shoulder. I was sad to realize that he was not to be part of the show tonight, I would not be feeling the exquisite torture of his extraordinary ebony cock in my ass.

Dale, in his crimson toga, the bitch-boi at his feet, continued to speak. “I think you will all enjoy the lineup I’ve chosen to give Jimmy a memorable evening. First up to bat, direct from Meat Video Productions, The one and only Tony Pisano!” My heart jumped. I had just rented a film last month starring Tony titled “Bum hole to Hell”, and I must have jerked off five times watching the incredible stud take some twink boy-sluts through their paces. He was an infamous top man, and built like a brick shithouse. I dropped obediently to my knees, and watched as he approached the platform.

He stood about five-ten, not very tall, but stacked up like a gorilla. He looked much older than in the film, but still amazingly hot. Guess this is what over-the-hill porn stars do for a living, personal appearances and private gigs. My cock stirred at the sight of him.

Tony’s massive hairy legs bowed out, his thick prodigious cock swinging loosely between muscular thighs. His washboard stomach, covered in downy brown hair, expanded into a fleshy barrel chest with large cocoa colored nipples. His heavy arms also curved out like a weightlifters, the powerful biceps rubbing on his sides as he sauntered into the ring. His massive pectorals were criss-crossed with wide leather straps, and he sported a studded cock ring and ball-separator.

He immediately grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to my feet. I swung around as he seized a dog collar from the bench. I felt his coarse hands as he bound it around my neck and yanked the buckle tight. A pair of matching rawhide cuffs came out of nowhere, and they were placed around my wrists as I stood trembling before Tony. The cuffs had rings and clips that attached to the collar. Tony wrenched my arms to my shoulders and snapped me together. I was helpless to defend myself, my wrists fixed firmly to the sides of my neck.

“Relax, kid. Go with it, and I’ll be easy on ‘ya. Fight me and you’ll regret it.” Tony barked at me. “Your safe word is my last name, Pisano. Say it and I’ll back off. Otherwise, let’s really go for it and give the boys what they want!”

He dragged me by the hair and bent me over a leather-padded bench, like an upholstered sawhorse. The legs of the bench were fitted with iron shackles, and Tony snapped them shut around my ankles. This spread my legs apart, and forced my ass up into the air as I bent across the cool leather. The two boys from the dressing room appeared with trays of apparatus for Tony to choose from. I was shaking with anticipation, the delightful drug doing its job. I had no inhibition, and couldn’t wait for Tony to start his exquisite torture on my quivering ass. A crowd was forming around us and, except for the men who were busy with action of their own, all eyes were on Tony and me: the boy on the bench.

A cheer from the audience as Tony selected a double-sided dildo, a long ribbed object with a bulbous head, getting thicker towards the middle. Tony lubed it lightly with his spit and started to twirl its knobby tip around on my asshole. It was a bright day-glow orange, and seemed to be lit from within in the diffused light of the playroom. The head popped past my tender ring of muscle. That was easy. I knew without even seeing the gruesome thing that it was getting thicker the farther it sank into me, and accepting it would not get easier. Tony still had me by the hair with his other hand, and yanking my head up, showed my anguish to the hungry crowd of men as he besieged my ass. The pain was overwhelming, but I felt it like it was a memory, real but somehow distant. (Thank you, Phillip. You were right!) Tony was determined, shoving it deep into my rectum. He pulled the obscene rod back a couple inches, only to thrust it in even further. In and out, repeated stabs until almost half of the prodigious phallus was imbedded into my gut.

I never saw Tony bottom in any film, so I was surprised when the master fuck man turned around to face the audience and proceeded to back himself onto the other end of the two-headed monster. The crowd gasped as he dropped his large hairy ass onto the pole sticking out of my immobile body. I felt the pressure of the dildo pushing on my belly, the thick latex invading me as the weight of his immense frame bumped up against mine, the gnarly tool wedged firmly between us, totally absorbed by our asses. The two boys produced a roll of duct-tape and wrapped several rings tightly around our joined waists, sealing us emphatically with the outrageous shaft. The guests were spellbound at the sight of the burly porn star, riding hard on the ass of his prey.

The spectators could hold back no longer, and rushed us on the stage. Audience participation is always encouraged at Dale’s parties, so they were ready to join in the fun. A balding middle-aged man with a smooth, hairless body stepped up in front of my face. He was not much to look at except for a perfectly shaped eight-inch erection and large, downy soft balls that hung heavy and potent between his legs. He grabbed my wrists, pulling on the attached collar at my throat, and pushed his imposing cock against my lips. I opened wide and he plunged it to the hilt into my head. His groin was moist and fragrant; it smelled like he had just had anal sex out there in the room somewhere.

Men lined up in front of Tony, eagerly waiting a turn at sucking on his massive cock. His ass bucked against mine as Tony fucked the nameless faces, pulling at the duct-tape and rocking the dildo back and forth between us. My head was swimming. I tried to focus on servicing the cock in my mouth. The salty pre-cum forming on it’s generous head tasted amazing. The man was brutal, driving his dick into me like a pile driver. He viciously buried his meat in my throat till my nose pressed into his fragrant pubic hairs. I loved the way he manipulated my wrists, making my head rotate on his shaft, rubbing my nose into his sweaty crotch. Tony had given his dick to several men when I heard him begin to groan. Was he going to cum already? I didn’t want the show to conclude so quickly. With the top man spent, his aggression would be gone, his load shot, and it was sure to end.

Tony jerked wildly on our belt of tape, pulling me off the bench just as the bald man shot his wad. The man’s cock was pulled from my mouth as he sprayed rich creamy ropes of cum across my face. Tony nutted in his sucker’s willing mouth, and collapsed back, laying his tremendous weight on my ass, driving the outrageous dildo against my prostate. Soon Tony tore himself loose from the tape, pulled himself off the slimy dildo and raised his arms in a triumphal wave to the adoring crowd. The obscene fuck tool still hung from my inflamed asshole as I lay face down on the bench. I saw my tormentor head for the bar, still dripping cum from his fat salami, as the men lined congratulatory beers up on the counter in front of him. The big latex shaft slowly slipped from my anus and dropped to the floor.

“Gentlemen! Never fear. There is much to come, and the evening is still young! In an effort to provide our lovely Jimmy with a challenge, I’ve sent my agents along the highways of these United States to find a man... A real man, a legend of the road.” Dale shouted, his flowing robe shimmering in the spotlight. “Here he is, the new American cowboy, master trucker and incomparable fucker, Tommy from Minnesota!”

The room hushed, and I heard the rumbling sound from the vast windows along the lake side of the room. They opened upward like huge garage doors, and incredibly, an enormous Mack truck roared through the opening. The audience stood like deer in the headlights then ran for cover at the rear of the room as the hulking rig plowed through the crowd. The big rig rolled forward, smoking and grinding gears as it came to a stop next to the stage. The smell of exhaust and diesel fuel filled the room. The sound was deafening. The man behind the wheel opened the cab and jumped out.

Tommy from Minnesota was about six-two, powerfully built, with wavy sand colored hair and a bushy moustache. His face was leathery and sunburned, but as handsome as any man I had ever seen. My cock began to harden looking at his big chest, practically popping the buttons from his tight red plaid shirt. His jeans were faded and thin, his muscles stretching the material across his meaty thighs. He stood among the spectators, grabbing at his crotch and roaring like a loin. He appeared like an animal, full of lust and rage. I shook with eagerness, aching to have this beast molest me, as he ripped his shirt off and threw it to the men at the bar.

The truck idled loudly as he stepped towards me, still strapped by the ankles to the fuck bench. The two boys appeared again like spirits, and undid my restraints, releasing me from the sawhorse and unlatching my wrists from my collar. I groveled on the rubber floor and crawled meekly towards Tommy. He kicked me over and put his heavy Caterpillar boot on my throat. Reaching down, he clipped my wristbands to each other and yanked me to my feet.

Tommy was smooth and hairless; he carried his big biceps and pectorals like glossy melons. His stomach was cut and defined, and I drooled as he removed his thick leather belt with the heavy silver buckle and his jeans dropped to the floor. The two boys, as if on cue, cut the pants from his legs so Tommy stood before the assemblage in nothing but boots and heavy athletic socks. He was endowed with a cock that looked to have been transplanted from a stallion. Long, richly textured and darker than the rest of his flesh, it curved proudly over potent balls the size of goose eggs. He pulled me to a scaffold nearby on the catwalk, and hooked my linked wrists onto a meat hook hanging from the crossbeam. My legs were then shackled into a stretcher bar to keep them separated, and the hook was hoisted enough to just allow me to stand. The drug coursing through my body was having a bizarre effect on me. I twisted and squirmed as I hung from the hook, in a rhythmic dance of despair.

Tommy raised his mighty arm high in the air and brought the flat edge of his belt down on my chest. I cringed in surprise and pain. Tommy raised it up and brought it down again on my trembling belly. Twin welts formed on my pink skin, red and angry-looking gashes that I carried with me for days afterwards. Tommy selected a bright yellow jumper cable from the toy collection, and secured each of the metal clamps on my erect nipples. I screamed at the outrage, my tits instantly swelling, the alligator teeth biting into my soft flesh. I couldn’t move my head to look down at myself, but I suppose I started bleeding almost instantly. I thought of that dangerous line I assumed Dale would not cross, and prayed I was not wrong about his integrity.

Tommy waved and grinned at his fans as I slumped down, collapsing in agony. The drugs made the excruciating pain bearable, without them I would probably have passed out. He grabbed a leather collar from the tray, a ball tent, and snapped it around my soft, vulnerable testicles. The tent was attached to a leather cord, and Tommy hooked the jump cable clinging to my tits and the leather cord to a tow chain attached to the front of the truck. Hoping back into the cab, he gunned the powerful engine, it’s roar and smoke filling the room with terror. The guest’s gasped as Tommy threw the truck into reverse; it started beeping and lurched back a few inches. The slack on the cord and cable tightened, and I felt a burning tug on my inflamed nipples. My balls stretched forward as the leather tent gripped the base of my nuts. My anguished moans could not be heard above the growl of the enormous Mack.

Tommy got down again, and checking his rig, adjusting the chain and cord before jumping back behind the wheel. The gears meshed loudly, the pistons fired, and the truck jerked back again. I felt my feet leaving the floor. I could just stand on my toes, the tension on my balls and tits held me suspended. I was in sexual delirium, my tormented body registering pain as pleasure, agony as ecstasy. Another inch and the sharp clamps would pull my nipples right off my chest, and my balls would be ripped from my crotch like grapes.

Tommy stepped onto the platform again to inspect his work. He plucked on the cord attached to my nuts like a guitar string. It sent vibrations into my body like stabs to the groin. He massaged my chest, feeling the aching pectorals, stretched into peaks and straining against the taught cable. Then unbelievably, he held my head in his broad hands and laid a kiss on my lips; his tongue going deep, dancing on the back of my throat. I accepted it greedily, craving his touch, his attentions.

“Mmmn baby, you doin’ great, you makin’ us look real good. Dale was right; you’re a fine little pussy, that’s fer certain!” He murmured, his breath hot in my ear. The rumbling Mack idled in front of us; it’s throbbing energy coursing up my tether and arousing me to the core. The truck had the potential to castrate and deform me, or continue to stimulate my body like a huge vibrator.

Satisfied, he swaggered around behind me and slapped my ass. I couldn’t see what he was up to, but the crowd hooted and cheered as his intent became clear. He raised a large variable speed drill into the air with great flourish, and attached a large plastic knob into the bit. It was a lemon reamer, a kitchen tool for squeezing the juice from a fruit. Electrified, the audience erupted into applause.

“Now I want ya to scream real loud when you take this muthafucker up your shithole, okay? We don’t wanna disappoint Dale, now do we?” He yelled to me over the howling din coming from the gallery of spectators. I shook my head, I had no choice anyway, whatever this satyr of suffering wanted I would give. Tommy smeared a gob of lube on the reamer and I heard the drill whine as he placed it between my legs. I squirmed and tried to free myself, but he held me still by grabbing on the tight leather collar on my chafed neck. The hard ribbed knot spun in my crotch, in the soft crease between my ass and nuts. I felt the friction; my skin warming as it whipped the lube into my crack. I did as my master wished, and screamed as if I was being impaled on a flagpole. The rippled acorn-shaped utensil twirled slowly at first as Tommy screwed it into my man pussy.

It whirled in my colon in a froth of grease, an incredibly overwhelming and intense sensation. He slowly pulled the trigger and the drill torqued up. Tommy intensified his onslaught on my guts, the reamer’s thick ribs turning madly in my ass. I experienced an epiphany as my body numbed and my mind expanded beyond reality from the drugs and the intoxicating sensation of agony. I came, my pent-up sexual energy released in thick ropes of jizz that fell to the floor in front of my tethered and raped body.

Tommy eased back on the drill, allowing it to spin lazily as it popped out of my inflamed butt. He bellied up to my backside and pushed his substantial cock against my sloppy ass. It was wide open from the reamer, so despite the enormous size of his awesome cock, he entered pretty easy. My delirious moans of anguish made Tommy more aggressive, and he bumped his hips into me so violently that I bounced off the floor. My tits and cock were stretched to the limit as I slid on his incredible dick like a marionette on strings. I shot a second load high into the air, slung between the Mack and the man. I felt my assailant’s shaft well up, his potent balls sending a profuse volley of semen up his horse dick. He erupted into my gaping rectum as I lost consciousness.

I woke up later, I don’t know how much later, strapped spread-eagle to the doorway of a bathroom stall. My mutilated tits had been cleaned up and bandaged, probably by Phillip and the boys. I had a butt plug lodged my ass, and the ball tent that Tommy had put on hours ago was still gripped tightly on my gonads. A silver bucket had been tied off to its cord, and the men had been lining up to urinate in the bucket. They passed in front of me like a shrine, leaving their golden offering in the bucket. The drugs were wearing off, but I still had a cozy glow, and the steadily increasing weight of the urine bucket on my distended testicles felt satisfying. I had done my job well; I had earned every dollar of the deposit. But more importantly, Dale would be pleased.

A permanent marker had been tied to my dog collar, and they signed my flesh like I was a big greeting card as they added their contribution to my bucket. “Thanks for the fucking hardon!” “You’re awesome” “Fuck You” “Wanna eat you alive” “Swallow my cock” “Queer piece of shit!” “Call me, I’ll double Dale’s fee”