Gay Erotic Stories

Jared sat in a corner booth of the Kitty Hawk club staring down at the table, averting eye contact with all of the men who had watched him being led in by a leash. There was a pulsating techno beat filling the air. Beyond the tables and chairs, young men were gyrating on a colorfully lit dance floor. Voices were buzzing with conversation and waiters in their white sailor suits were crisscrossing dutifully from customer to customer, always pausing obediently to accept the frequent caresses to their curvaceous hindquarters. The entire place was alive with young men and Jared felt they were all looking and laughing at him the same way the people on the streets had done.

Daddy was seated directly across from his boy and was explaining certain aspects of the Kitty Hawk as if he were a tour guide. He pointed out certain groups of college boys who seemed huddled around their tables, gawking and pointing and laughing as if they were in the most absurd place they’d ever been.

“These are the boys who get invitation passes from club members,” he told Jared. “They’re like the little kids who accept the dare to go inside the haunted house to prove to their friends that they’re not scared. Look at how they exaggerate how straight and normal they are. But what they really want to do is get sucked in, become forced to do things that they only fantasize about doing while jerking off alone in their dorm rooms.”

Jared would glance up briefly from time to time and look around. He saw the boys Daddy was referring to, boys who looked a lot like him, who sat at their tables in their t-shirts and jeans with their legs spread open like they were riding tough on their macho horses. These were the guys who did the most pointing and laughing when they saw him come in, shuffling along at the end of a leash like a good pet. These were the guys who would still look over at him and smirk and then Jared would lower his head again, hoping none of them knew who he was.

A young Black man in his sailor uniform approached their table and asked Daddy how he could help him this evening. Jared peered over and saw how the white uniform he was wearing seemed tightly molded to the healthy peaks and valleys of his muscular body. And it was readily apparent that the man wore no undergarments and Jared could easily make out the long, fat outline of this sailor’s dark-skinned penis as it pressed against the sheer fabric at table level.

After Daddy ordered some appetizers and some water for his boy, he turned to Jared and asked, “Are you admiring this sailor’s big cock?”

This pulled Jared’s attention away from the waiter’s dark bulge, which seemed to almost be resting on their table, and he turned away, unsure how to respond.

“My little boy, here, was staring at your crotch,” Daddy told the waiter. He reached over and lifted Jared’s chin up and forced him to make eye contact with the sailor. “If those buttons were to come undone, I’m sure he’d do anything for you. My boy is learning to respect bigger, better men.”

The young Black man looked down at Jared and smirked as he noticed the gray, “4 ¾” tag on his collar. “If I can be of any service to you, sir…”

Daddy took his index finger and gently rubbed it up and down against the dark shaft pressed up against the white uniform while the waiter stood there watching. Jared could see the monster inside beginning to grow and press outward even more at Daddy’s touch.

“Tell my boy,” Daddy said to the sailor, “if you consider yourself to be straight or gay.”

“I’m straight, sir,” the Black man answered without any doubt or hesitation.

Jared watched Daddy’s index finger snake away from the waiter’s pulsing erection and realized his own little rocket was hardening under the table. Daddy reached around and began caressing the sailor’s soft, round cheek as he continued to question him.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Daddy asked him.

“Yes sir.”

“They why do you come here? Why are you letting us treat you like some faggot toy?” Daddy ran his index finger into the deep valley of this man’s rounded ass and playfully tickled at the center with no resistance.

“Because they pay me better than anyplace I can think of, sir,” he replied. “And because it feels good.”

“Does my finger in your crack feel good?” Daddy grinned.

“Yes sir.”

Daddy pulled his hand back and gave the waiter’s healthy cheek a gracious pat. Jared was still mesmerized by the man’s big, black rod twitching just beneath the buttoned up crotch of his sailor suit. Jared’s own little stick was now pointing straight up in his sweat pants and he secretly wished the buttons would come undone.

“Thank you, sailor,” Daddy told him. “You can go, now.”

The young man thanked Daddy politely and turned and left without any care for the fact that he was still sporting a very visible erection under his uniform. Daddy explained to Jared that there was no such thing as straight and gay; that it was all about need and pleasure.

“It’s all in your mind,” Daddy said. “I’ve got what you need. Once your desires become my pleasure then you’ll get what you need and be a happy little boy who knows his place in life. Then you’ll be free and you’ll never worry about anything again.”

Daddy then explained how club members like himself had exclusive booths on the first level and Jared noticed all the booths around the perimeter that seemed to house men like Daddy, who wore leather and sat tall and proud, and boys like himself, who seemed humbled and subservient to the men they were with. In the center of the club, at the open tables with chairs, were all the young men visiting the haunted house to prove they weren’t gay.

“Here’s a special feature for members,” Daddy added. He reached over and swung out a small, flat screen that was attached to a metal arm near the wall. He positioned it in between, where they could both look at it. He punched in a menu number: L2RM06, and the image flickered on.

In the color screen, Jared saw a young man standing in what appeared to be a well-lit examining room, like the kind in a doctor’s office. He seemed lost, confused. He was bare-chested, wearing only a letterman’s jacket from the college, with white briefs and white socks.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a quarterback,” Daddy commented with a smile. He took a small headset off the hooks on the wall and put it over Jared’s ears. “Enjoy the show,” Daddy said. “I’ve got to go check on something. I’ll be back.”

Daddy slipped out of the booth and disappeared into the crowd. Jared would have gotten nervous being left alone like that without any way of moving his hands or feet, still sporting his tight, little hard-on, but he heard the quick, nervous breaths of the boy in the letterman’s jacket and his attention became fixed on the screen.

Another figure appeared on the screen and the boy in the letterman’s jacket began to beg, “Please, what are you going to do with me? Please, I’m just…I just think that maybe…”

“Get up and lie down on the table,” a voice instructed the college’s first-string quarterback. Jared saw a second man pass through the screen and point at an examination table that stood about waist high off the floor.

“Look, I shouldn’t really be here,” the quarterback pleaded. He had short brown, flowing hair and dimpled good looks and a body with muscle tones equal to Jared’s. “I made a mistake. If you’d just show me the way out…”

“Was it a mistake when you agreed to do anything to touch my big cock?” the other man said. “I’ve already given you your enema, and you seemed to be enjoying that, too. Now get up on the table and do as I say or I’ll make sure the whole team knows where you’ve been and what you’ve done.”

The quarterback’s smooth chest heaved as he considered the threat and reluctantly climbed up on the table, all the while asking what was going to be done with him and begging for mercy. But the man in charge, who was not muscular at all and who wore nothing but a towel around his waist, wasted no time with pleasantries.

The quarterback was made to lie on his stomach as two other men, the master’s slaves, fastened his wrists and ankles securely into straps attached to the table. Then the master slid the quarterback’s briefs down his beefy thighs and tore them off. The camera zoomed in on the quarterback’s tender cheeks, smooth and round and creamy white in the areas where he had worn his Speedo last summer.

The quarterback bucked a bit as the master ran his hands over the helpless ass, but the slaves helped hold him down. Slowly, as the college boy with his letterman’s jacket squirmed and whimpered, the master’s fingers slid into his tight orifice, one finger from each side, and slowly began to open him up.

“Oh shit!” the college boy yelped. The enema treatment he had been given earlier had violated him already, but nothing like this. The two fingers lodged in his virgin hole became four, and then six, each one pulling and tugging and groping and expanding the opening until he thought he was going to rip apart. The quarterback kept gasping and exclaiming senseless comments and his whole body quivered.

Jared’s penis began to throb uncontrollably in its tight skin as he watched the fingers probing this college boy’s ass. And then the master began inserting a small, plastic tube that was shaped something like an hourglass. The quarterback was nearly sobbing as the first part of it was lodged into his trembling rectum, but then the master released his grip and let the boy’s sphincter muscles close in on the center of the tube, leaving the other wide end sticking out of his crack. After a few desperate squeezes, the college boy realized that this tube was in to stay and that it left his hole open wide enough to drop a quarter inside. The master even slid his wiggling finger in and out of the tube for demonstration.

Next, the master and his slaves put a collar around the boy’s neck and released his wrists from the table and tied them to the half-rings on the collar. Then they released his ankles and stood him up again on the floor. Jared could see the quarterback’s curved ass flexing in vain to shut the opening the tube created. And he could also see the college boy’s penis, short and fat and resting nervously on top of two swollen testicles.

“What are you going to do to me?” the quarterback asked, feeling the cool air drifting through the tube in his open orifice.

The two slaves made him step into a pair of clear, plastic shorts with tight, elastic bands at the waist and legs. They slid them up to the boy’s slim waist as the master told him to relax, that soon he would get to do what he craved. They could have poured water into those shorts and none of it would have leaked out.

Instead of water, however, the two slaves held the college boy by his elbows as the master showed the quarterback what he would pour into those shorts. The college boy squirmed and pleaded as he saw the two clear jars, one with five large centipedes in it and the other with at least ten adult earwigs.

“Shhh,” the master said as he opened the jars and tapped at the bugs slithering around madly inside. “These are just pets we breed down here for our own amusement. They’ll send you to new heights.”

“Please, please don’t…I’ll do anything…”

“Yes,” the master said. “Yes you will.”

Perhaps he knew there was no escaping it. Perhaps the two slaves had a good enough hold of him to keep him from moving. But whatever the case, the college boy in the letterman’s jacket and white socks stood nearly frozen with his chest full of air and watched helplessly as the master pulled back the tight elastic at his waist and dumped each jar of crawling bugs down into his crotch.

Then with the waistband snapped back to his abdomen, the college quarterback’s legs shook and his fat little penis quickly got hard and pressed up against the plastic as the centipedes and earwigs wormed their way frantically all over his sensitive skin and burrowed through his pubic hair and scampered between his legs.

“On your knees,” the master told him and the two slaves pushed at his shoulders until their straight college boy was on his knees, alternating between looking up in desperation and glancing down in shock at the bugs tickling his uncontrollable hard-on.

“Oh God,” the quarterback gasped. The master reached down and lifted the boy’s chin up to make eye contact. The boy shuddered and globs of white cum oozed out of him in uncontrollable spasms into his plastic shorts. His sphincter muscles flexed desperately around the hourglass tube in his hole, unable to close the gaping entrance. His eyes were watering as he was forced to continue looking up at his master and confess in shock and shame, “They’re crawling inside me.”

The master smiled and removed the towel from his waist and Jared’s little rocket throbbed even harder when he saw this master’s long, fat penis swaying in front of this kneeling college boy. The master held the boy’s chin up and stroked his hair as the quarterback continued to tremble. Then he let out a new gasp and his eyes went even wider.

“They’re pinching my balls!” he exclaimed.

“They don’t pinch,” the master told him. “They bite. And when they pick a spot they like, they eat. Now, the sooner you make me cum, the sooner we can tend to your situation.”

The college boy was crying now. His hands were waving helplessly near his head. He was sobbing and telling his master how he could feel more of them crawling up inside of him through the tube in his hole and Jared could see how he was jutting his trembling ass out like a bitch in heat and begging for mercy, unable to shake the slithering bugs from their expedition. The boy was saying how several of them were biting him now; boring into his sensitive flesh, and still his penis pulsed inside his plastic shorts. Through all of it, he was experiencing the most intense orgasms he had ever had and he felt lost, adrift in erotic confusion.

And then Jared saw in this college boy the same thing he felt within himself on that first night when Daddy hung his large penis over his face and told him to start licking. That quarterback gradually began rocking and swaying down on his knees, tears still running down his cheeks, and he leaned in and began kissing the long, fleshy shaft of his master’s waiting cock.

“Make me cum, boy,” the master told him. “It’s what you want to do. Make me cum in your mouth. Do it nice and slow and suck up every last drop. Do you want to please your master now?”

The college boy was licking the length of the shaft, now, and a stream of his saliva was streaking down to the pointed head of this master’s impressive rod. In between gasps and moments when the boy would suddenly pause at the things crawling around inside of him and biting him at will, he let out a quiet, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” the master said in a way that reminded Jared of Daddy.

“Yes,” he gasped, his tongue in the process of reaching the crown of his new master’s staff. “Yes, master.”

At that moment, Daddy returned to the booth and asked his boy how he was enjoying the show.

“Is this real?” Jared wondered. He could feel the violating toy lodged up in his own ass and realized Daddy could put anything he wanted up inside of him and he would have to bear it.

“Level two, room six,” Daddy answered with a smile. “Does it turn you on?”

“They said you were going to give me a choice,” Jared replied abruptly. “The, uh…the other boys said you would give me the choice to stay or leave and you would let me go if I wanted to. Will you do that? Will you give me the tapes back and let me go and never make me do this stuff again?”

“When the time comes,” Daddy said. “If that’s what you really want when the time comes.” Then Daddy reached under the table and felt Jared’s hard little stick in his sweatpants. “But I think when the time comes, you’ll do whatever I want you to do. The only way you can be free and be happy is to surrender control to me. Don’t you want to hold Daddy’s big dick in your hands and be free to please me?”

Jared blushed as Daddy pinched the sides of his hard little rocket underneath his sweats. He knew Daddy could feel him pulsing with excitement at the mention of his big dick and he wondered if Daddy also knew the way his mouth watered inside and how fast he had to swallow to keep from drooling. He probably did.

Jared turned absently to the screen and saw the college boy on his knees, worshipping and slurping over the full erection of his new master, lost and swaying in a new world of pleasure that he would do anything to keep secret.

“Can I hold it now?” Jared found himself asking sheepishly.

Daddy let go of his boy’s tiny rocket and laughed out loud. “My little boy needs to be more patient,” he finally replied.

Daddy switched off the screen and removed the headset from Jared’s ears and put everything back against the wall. Then, turning to look towards the entrance to the club, Daddy seemed to notice something and raised his eyebrow to give Jared the impression that it was a surprise to him.

“Well, look what we have here!”

Jared turned and saw her and his erection quickly faded and the erotic fog he was slipping into quickly dissipated and it was as if someone poured a bucket of ice water on his head and turned up all the lights. And there she was, coming straight for their table, dressed to kill and no doubt planning on the wild weekend of sex with her boyfriend that she was promised.

All the boys at the center tables started whooping and hollering and pointing at a real, live woman and several went out of their way to make it known that they suddenly wanted this girl really bad. And that girl was Sarah. She ran up and planted a quick kiss on Jared’s lips and slid into the booth beside him and commented that this was such a kinky place to meet and how she couldn’t wait to fuck him and his big, juicy dick.

To Be Continued…

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