Gay Erotic Stories

"Craig Phillips?" "Yeah..." "Craig Philips, winner of Big Brother UK?" "That's right, yeah." Darkness. Craig came to, aware only of motion at first. As consciousness slowly kicked in he came to realize that he was lying on a hospital gurney, tied to it in fact, bound at the wrists and ankles, and that the gurney was being propelled down a darkened corridor at some speed. As his eyes became accustomed to the gloom he recognized the figure looming above him, pushing the gurney, as one of the men he had opened his front door to - the last thing he could recall being that the two men appeared to be twins. And after that, nothing. To his left, he realized, was the other man, running alongside. Craig recognized him, without knowing how, as the one who had done all the talking. With a sudden crash they flew through a pair of swinging doors, and were flooded with light from overhead, Craig narrowed his eyes and turned, facing away from the offending light. In this position he was able to assess his surroundings, and he recognized the room as being either a morgue or something very much like it. Still not a word had been spoken. Did they realize he was awake? The twin who seemed to be in charging, the talker, had disappeared. The remaining, silent twin proceeded around the gurney, loosening the binds, first ankles and then wrists. Craig sat up, rubbing at one wrist, then the other. Looking around he saw the other, dominant man He observed him with vague disinterest. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask just what the hell was going on. "Don't speak. You have nothing to say that would be of any interest, and I have no intention of explaining where you are or what you are doing here." "But..." "I told you not to talk." Something in the man's monotone voice demanded compliance. "I am Twin A, this is Twin B; we are not related. That is the only information you will be given that is not a direct order. Do you understand? "No. What's going on, I don't..." "Of course you don't understand you're an idiot. We already know that, and it has no bearing on present circumstances." Twin A approached Craig, still seated. "You will not speak unless specifically ordered to. You will not question anything, which has, or will happen to you. You will obey everything I tell you. Do you understand that much?" Craig nodded. "Good. Then we are making progress. Get up." Craig swung his legs over the side of the gurney, his bare feet making contact with the cold tiled floor. "Now strip." "What...?" Twin A, seated now, produced a pistol from his breast pocket. ""You will not speak unless specifically ordered to. You will not question anything, which has, or will happen to you. You will obey everything I tell you...Now strip." Craig, who had been lounging at home when all this began, was wearing his old building-site outfit, - denim cut-offs and a white tank top. Dutifully he began to undress, what choice did he have? In one swift move he slipped the tank top off over his head to reveal his broad hairless chest and taut stomach, pausing only briefly to flex his shoulders, he unbuttoned his shorts and allowed the denim to fall loosely down over his thick, beefy thighs and puddle at his feet. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his tight black briefs he bent forward at the waist, pushing them down to his ankles, before kicking both them and the cut-off's into a pile with his discarded tank top. He felt no sense of modesty about his body, and delighted in any chance to exhibit himself naked, whatever the circumstances. He straightened his trunk, rolled his shoulders back, puffing out his chest, allowing his arms to fall flexed but loose at his sides with no inclination to cover himself. His sizeable prick swung loosely now - nestled, with his tight balls, in a nest of thick, cropped pubic hair. Craig felt himself to be something of note when naked, and had expected the two men to react in some way when he removed his underwear. He was disappointed, therefore, that neither twin seemed to regard him with any interest, either dressed or undressed. His ego demanded that they pay him some notice. "Just what the fuck is happenin' here?" He cried out. "What the fuck am I here for? What are you plannin' on doing to me? What the hell is this all about?" Twin A moved swiftly on Craig, pressed the pistol between his eyes. "See that table?" Indicating with his other hand, his voice not rising above a normal conversational tone. Craig nodded. "Get on it." The 'table' was actually a post-mortem slab, and Craig recognized it as such. "Please, what are you gonna do with me?" His tone was pleading, fearful. Twin A exhaled loudly, frustrated by the lack of co-operation. "Twin B is going to bathe you." Twin A jerked his head in the direction of the table. Craig obeyed, padding over to the stainless steel slab. He hoisted himself onto its shiny top, wincing as his meaty buttocks made contact with the ice-cold surface. "Lie down." Bracing himself for the chill, Craig duly swung his legs up onto the table and gingerly lowered himself backwards, arching his back so as to limit contact. Twin B re-appeared to the side of the slab. "Hold you arms away from your body." Twin A instructed. Craig obeyed. Twin B, reaching into a stainless steel bucket, produced a large, soapy sponge. He began on Craig's rigid stomach, a stream of warm soapy ran over his abdomen, pooling beneath him. B worked in circular motions spreading the suds across Craig's stomach and then up over his hardened pec's, his nipples softening from bullets as the water spread. Lifting each arm to be soaped up, he flexed his biceps in another attempt to impress with his body. His upper body now covered with suds; B proceeded below the waist, caressing smoothly Craig’s genitals with the sponge. Craig could feel B's fingers through the matting. A was supervising all this. "Spread your legs." Craig did so, and felt his heavy balls, loosened by the warmth, slide down between his thighs and come to rest on the - now warm - steel top. B maneuvered round to work down between Craig's legs, wiping away at his thighs he moved up, gently cupping his ball's and lifting them away so that he could work the soap up between Craig's ass cheeks. He tensed slightly as he felt B's fingers -through the sponge - probe at his sphincter. He had never been touched there before, let alone by another man, but knew not to make an issue of it. "Turn over." Craig raised himself up onto his elbows and turned himself over, his cock making an audible thud as it slapped down on the slab top. He lowered his torso down slowly into the warm puddle, bringing his arms up, to rest his head on his hands. B started on the shoulders this time, with wide sweeps he continued down to Craig’s buttocks, which he massaged roughly, kneading them like dough. His muscles relaxed as the warmth of the water spread out into his body, Craig felt his fear decrease somewhat. Still though, what was going on? Was this all an elaborate practical joke? An initiation rite? And if so, initiation into what? Maybe it was some sort of test? Whatever it was Craig resolved to go along with it, to prove himself capable of whatever the challenge was. He had just reached this conclusion when B produced a length of rubber hose, pointing it at Craig as a jet of warm water shot forth. He first rinsed the soap from his shoulders and then worked down as the water itself followed the contours of Craig’s body and flowed down into the small of his back. Rinsing his ass, B aimed the water directly between Craig’s cheeks, and again Craig felt a jolt as his muscles contracted. Craig rolled over easily, not having to be told this time, his body lubricated with soap. He felt the warm stream massage his tits and then down his ab's, he anticipated the water caressing his thickening member and was not disappointed when B gently gripped his shaft, lifting it clear in order to rinse off his hairy balls. "Get up." It was a markedly more relaxed man who now stood dripping on the tile floor. B came forward with a large white towel and began to paw roughly at Craig with it, Craig cheerfully maneuvering himself for B's probing hands. Puffing up his chest as B buffed him dry and playfully spreading his ass cheeks as B worked his way down. When he was dry B handed him a large black silk dressing gown that Craig pulled on reluctantly, unwilling to cover his nakedness. "What I said earlier goes double from this point on. Understand?" Craig nodded, trying not to smile. Twin A could barely contain his irritation at Craig's lack of guile. "I'm not going to tell you what is about to happen to you, hopefully you'll be able to work it out as you go." He doubted it. Once again Craig was plunged into darkness, B had placed a thick black hood over his head, blocking out all light. Craig, with B's hands on his shoulders, was being led along another corridor, with A setting the pace in front. They stopped. B released his grip as Craig struggled to make out some noise; he thought he could sense more people. He felt A untie the loosely knotted belt of the robe, though the volume of material meant his body was still hidden from view. Craig felt A slip behind him and then, with one hand on each side of the robe's collar, part the material revealing Craig's maleness once more. There was the sound of applause as A slid the silk across Craig's shoulders and down off his arms, save for the hood Craig was naked again. It was good to feel air against his skin again, warm air this time. Once again Craig flexed his impressive upper body, rolling his shoulders back to accentuate his great barrel chest, pushing his hips forward to draw attention to his crotch, which even now was thickening with excitement. All the same, he wore his nakedness self-consciously. He knew he was being looked over, but by whom? Craig absent-mindedly stroked his fingers against his thighs, then, moving his hands back, cupped his buttocks. He wanted the hood off, not only to see his audience but also to complete his nakedness. Then he felt the material against his face shift and, with the hood's removal, he was struck full on with a blinding light, forcing him to narrow his eyes. Craig realized he was on a stage of some kind, or at least a raised platform. He struggled to see out past the lighting, spotlights and footlights both, and could make out - as his eyes became accustomed to the glare - a small crowd, possibly 20 or 30 people, men and women of all ages. There in the center of the group, Craig could see another raised platform. This one was much smaller in size but raised higher than the one he now stood upon, the surface top about the size of a single bed - which in effect is what it was. "Same as before." Twin A whispered in Craig's ear. Obediently Craig stepped down from the platform and proceeded toward the other stage. The crowd, whom he could now see were dressed in evening wear, parted as he approached, their eyes all over him. Once again, Craig sat himself upon the platform, this time a warm mattress was beneath him. Again he swung his legs up, but this time he looked behind before lowering his back to the mattress and saw a pair of handcuffs on the tabletop. As he set his head down upon the surface he looked to each side and saw that the cuffs were fixed about a foot on either side of his head. B came around the platform to stand over him again and Craig knew instinctively that the intention was to bind him to the mattress. So, true to his intention of compliance, he brought his arms up, placing each wrist within the leather restraints, using this maneuver to flex his sizeable biceps. Twin B buckled each in turn, left then right, the leather tight against Craig's flesh. This completed; B proceeded to the foot of the bed, the crowd again parting to allow this. Once there, B grabbed Craig by both ankles and parting his legs, his knees bending, forced his shins into contact with his thighs - his asshole now exposed. With mounting dread Craig realized what was about to happen to him. The crowd gathered around him, chattering amongst themselves, but all were looking down at his naked, form. At least they admired his physique, for someone of Craig's vanity it was a welcome relief to have his sheer physical splendor admired and by so many people at once. As his mood shifted and he relaxed, one young woman with flowing blonde hair, standing to his right, set her hand down on Craig's knee. He turned to face her, having been staring at the ceiling until he felt her touch, their eyes locked. Craig maintained eye contact with her as she ran her black velvet-covered fingers down the inside of his thigh. Slowing down as she neared his crotch, Craig could feel his member throb into action, she traced a finger through his thick pubic hair. Then stroking the length of his shaft and feeling it harden under her touch, she reached beneath its girth and cupped his testicles in her palm. Craig swallowed hard, the tactile sensation of velvet caressing his heavy balls, causing him to fear that he might ejaculate then and there. The embarrassment would be unbearable. His eyes were still locked on the blonde and Craig didn't notice the middle aged man on the other side of the table slip his fingers into his whisky glass and withdraw a fresh ice-cube. His prick twitching with frustration, he couldn’t touch himself and the blonde was teasing him by refusing to continue what she had started. Craig was unprepared for the sensation of the ice cube being pressed hard against his vulnerable nether parts. Craig inhaled sharply as the man continued to press the ice into the underside of his groin, the woman laughing as she tightened her grip on his balls, squeezing with all her strength. Conversely this caused Craig's dick to harden completely, springing up and causing the cruel blonde to laugh all the more. The crowd shifted. Craig's tormentors the last to realize that the evening had proceeded onto the next phase. Once again the crowd parted and Craig, looking down between his thighs, saw another man standing where he had stood earlier. The man was wearing the black silk robe Craig had been divested of earlier. The bright light shined off his shaved head, set atop a thick bullish neck, his features hard and set in a fixed look of contempt, his cruel mouth fringed by a dark goatee. He looked out across the crowd. "Oh, he's gonna get Goldberg." Murmured the blonde. There was no sign of the twins this time; this one seemed to know where he was and why. Satisfied that all eyes were now on him, this new man unfastened the robe’s belt and slipped it off one shoulder at a time, allowed it to fall to the floor. He too was completely naked, and like Craig enjoyed the sensation of having an audience for his spectacular musculature. He was, however, much bigger than Craig was. And they both knew it. The light danced over his massive frame. A tattoo of a black flame licked at his swollen left bicep. Unlike Craig, he had a good covering of body hair, though, like that on his head, it had been cropped down to a rough stubble, and his pubic hair had been shaved in a similar fashion. Nothing more than a dark shadow around his prodigious manhood which, though still limp, eclipsed Craig's own sizeable erection. He stepped down off the platform and strolled leisurely - as though nothing could be more natural - over to the raised platform where Craig lay shackled. He looked down at Craig's prone body, puny by comparison to his own, but still a thing of rare power and beauty. Goldberg raised himself onto the platform, knelt down between Craig's open legs. Craig felt his stomach fall through the floor, here he was bound and naked with this man-mountain almost certainly about to fuck him. Goldberg knew the effect he was having on Craig and sought to draw it out , he had an audience to satisfy. He raised his left hand, the muscles in his arms looking fit to explode, and began to stroke his own broad chest, the stubble crackling beneath his fat fingers. His other hand slid down across the curve of his belly, his fingers encircling himself, and began to caress his fat cock. His hand moved, slowly, back and forth. The crowd leaned in, anxious to watch as this magnificent beast coaxed himself into his full splendor. There was a collective intake of breath as Goldberg's member began to assume it's full proportion. The man himself lost to this - head thrown back, eyes firmly closed, sweat now beading on his brow, completely oblivious to the mounting excitement of the crowd. His prick now fully erect, he stopped his masturbation, opened his eyes and looked down at Craig - whose own erection had now wilted away. Goldberg considered him with cold disdain, stroking his thighs with the palms of his hands absent-mindedly. Shuffling forward on his knees he maneuvered his trunk in between Craig's open thighs and touching Craig's body for the first time, gripped him firmly by his hips and raised Craig’s haunches onto his lap - his erection now poised at Craig's asshole. Craig's legs entwined Goldberg's thick torso, his shins resting on his firm, round buttocks. Goldberg leaned forward over Craig's supine figure, his left hand planted firmly by Craig's head. Craig inhaled the tang of fresh sweat emanating from Goldberg's hefty body and wanted to die, or at least to get this all over with. Any pleasure he may have taken from the situation long since dissipated. However, Goldberg seemed intent on drawing out the ordeal for as long as possible. Goldberg raised his other hand to his face and, with a heave, spat onto his palm. He lowered his hand down between Craig's legs and began to lubricate Craig's sphincter with his own fluid. Craig buckled as he felt Goldberg's fat digit's probe his asshole, slathering mucus around his rim - and then the pain hit as Goldberg forced his forefinger into Craig's rectum, the muscles stretched tight around this intruder. Goldberg slathered the rest of his impromptu lube over his own organ, and gripping the shaft firmly guided himself to Craig's orifice. Craig braced himself for the pain, but still he could not have anticipated the sheer agony as Goldberg forced himself into Craig's virginal pink rosebud. Craig's neck snapped back with a force as the pain ripped through his body, knocking the air from his lungs. Only his leather restraints stopped him from pulling away from under the bigger man. His prick instantly sprung back, fully erect. Goldberg realizing the suffering he had inflicted on Craig and was amused to think that he had only forced a fraction of himself into Craig. The agony would only increase. Goldberg paused, allowing Craig a chance to acclimate to the sensation of being penetrated, before forcing his full length into Craig with a fast, brutal, thrust of his hips. Then held himself there, his loins pushed forward, pinning Craig to the mattress. Craig felt as though he was going to die, the pain was so intense. He felt his heart in his throat as Goldberg forced every last inch into his hole. And then nothing. The pain maintained its momentum but mercifully didn't increase. Until Goldberg began to withdraw himself, slowly. Craig felt as though Goldberg had grabbed his internal organs and was now pulling them out his ass. Goldberg pulled out the length of his shaft until he felt the fat head of his cock gripped by Craig's sphincter. Then with pile-driving force, he pounded his full length back into Craig's raw ass. Craig convulsed as he felt his body again wracked with the most intense agony. Opening his eyes and looking up, he saw in Goldberg's face an expression of pure concentration, oblivious to the crowd around him, oblivious even of Craig. While the pain maintained it's momentum, Craig was at least able to get a handle on it and ride the searing agony spreading outwards from his torn hole. He felt himself loosen and anticipate every thrust of Goldberg's powerful hips, though for every thrust there was a withdrawal, and the agony of that still tormented Craig. Their bodies now bathed in a film of cold sweat, Craig and Goldberg felt their bodies moving in synchronicity at last, and Goldberg slipped his free arm under Craig's torso, supporting his weight. As he became used to the pain of being fucked, Craig recognized a stinging sensation in his lower regions. He couldn't know it, but such was the force of the pounding he was receiving that the soft tissue of his ass had ripped and he was bleeding, the sweat pouring off Goldberg's heavy balls adding to the sting. A thin rivulet of blood streamed through the cleft of his buttock before dripping onto the white mattress below. The crowd absorbed this detail with sadistic glee. Craig felt his orgasm drawing close, and naïvely imagined that Goldberg too must be about to cum. With a shudder, Craig felt a great pressure release from his nuts, as his thick white cum spurted out onto his chest, he exhaled loudly, then fought to catch his breathe, his belly rising and falling in rapid succession. Goldberg carried on, pounding away, oblivious to Craig's conclusion. It was some minutes before Goldberg came to the brink of his orgasm; his pace slowed as he marshaled his stamina for the final drive. Then with one final deep thrust he loosed his essence into Craig, teeth gritted, head thrown back, eyes tight shut. He continued with slow, gentle gyrations of his hips, milking every drop from his balls before allowing himself to stop. He dropped his full body weight down onto Craig's supine form, again forcing the breath from his lungs. Their breathing synchronized and deep, they lay there. Their sweat intermingling, Craig's sperm coating both their chests as their bodies rubbed together, generating friction. Goldberg's, now soft, prick slipped loosely out of Craig, slippery with various substances. Craig felt itchy, the stubble of Goldberg's body hair scratching against his bare flesh, Goldberg's head on his shoulder having the same effect, his goatee grazing his skin. Not a word spoken between them, only animal noises. Goldberg raised himself up off of Craig, thin threads of Craig's sperm stretching between their bodies as they pulled apart, arranged his naked bulk at the edge of the mattress. The twins were back. B was at the head of the mattress. He undid the tight leather binds, freeing Craig from his bondage. "Other stage." Ordered Twin A. Uneasily Craig climbed of the bed, exhausted he was unsteady on his feet, but made it to the other platform unaided. He stood there, naked but for his own bodily secretions. B produced a large damp cloth and began to rub him down, wiping the spunk that clung to his skin, the blood that trickled down his legs, and the sweat that coated his frame. The crowd watched all this with a lack of interest, waiting for the next development. Another spotlight came on a few feet to the left of Craig, illuminating what appeared to be a large glass tank. Had that been there before? "You know what to do." Whispered A. Uncertainly, Craig padded over to the case. The glass on three sides was an inch thick with another sheet fastened to the top, the fourth side of the case, facing downstage, comprised the airtight door, the whole thing about four foot square, six foot deep. "Get in." A hissed. Craig, by now mentally as well as physically exhausted, could only comply. He stepped over the inch high lip of the case door. The floor of the tank consisted of a metal grill. Craig was digesting this fact when he felt the door close with a hiss behind him. He turned to see B rotating a handle, to seal the tank shut, though Craig couldn't have recognized that. He realized he was locked, naked in a glass cell, and that the crowd was again showing interest in him. He assumed a suitable pose, his shoulders back, chest pushed forward, legs spread wide, and arms hanging nonchalantly at his sides. Looking out through the thick glass he saw that Goldberg was still lying naked on the other platform, he was stroking his tumescent prick lazily, his eyes gazing off into the distance. Craig became aware of movement beneath his feet, as a thin trickle of water spread up from the grill. The water, barely warm, soon covered his feet. Craig felt himself relax after the sheer physical endurance of being fucked by Goldberg. This was enervating. His mood remained sanguine as the water crept, surprising quick, past his ankles and up his shins. Not until the tide was up to his knees did Craig realize just what was happening. They intended to watch him drown. The perfect end to the evening. They had watched him get butt-fucked by Goldberg and now they were going to stand around sip cocktails while he died for their entertainment. He drew his fist back above his head and struck the glass. Nothing. The crowd cheered. Worried that he was too stupid to realize what was happening to him, he had proven them wrong and looked likely to provide plenty of entertainment as he panicked away his final few moments of life. Why were they doing this? Craig's mind raced, he knew he didn’t have much time. Did they intend to drown Goldberg too? Would Goldberg save him? Yes, maybe. But, no. Craig had recognized as soon as Goldberg had entered that he understood the situation. He was in on it. He had fucked him knowing that he was going to be killed afterwards. Looking over at the other platform again he knew he was right. As the water rose, Goldberg, still naked, was watching Craig flail about with no great interest. Craig knew then that there was no way out, unless they were intending only to watch him panic, before letting him go. He knew that he was grasping for any possible explanation other that the inevitable truth. He was going to die. The crown spread out, circling around the tank, wildly amused by the way things were panning out. The water was by now up to his cock. What to do? Craig knew the tank was inescapable, but shouldn’t he try anyway? Why waste your last few moments in a futile battle with the inevitable? He could drown himself. Duck under the water, which was now up to his waist, and deny them the pleasure of killing him, by doing it himself. No. If he had only a couple of minutes left, why shorten his life further? No more time left to prevaricate, the tide was lapping at his navel. Craig felt a sudden, unexpected sexual urge sweep over him. If he was going to die he wanted to orgasm one last time. What else could he do? He pressed his palm to the glass to steady himself and slipped his right hand between his legs. He circled his fingers around his prick and began to massage himself, trying not to think about how little time he had left. His audience initially seemed surprised at this latest development, when they realized this was a brave final act. After all the man was about to die. They cheered him on as his prick began to grow hard. His fist pumping back and forth, whipping the water up into a frenzy. He leaned back against the glass wall, and spread his legs wide to ease the motion of his fist. Using his free hand he tweaked his nipples, getting them erect again, then slipped his hand up behind his head to cushion it against the reinforced glass. Craig felt his body vibrate now, adrenaline pumping through his system. The water was up to his chest. Not much longer. He pumped his fist as hard as he could, but the water slowed down his actions. The faces of the crowd were radiant with joy, willing him on, to succeed. The tide was lapping at his chin now, only a couple more inches and he'd be gone. Craig tilted his head back, maximizing what air there was left. He began to pump his hips back and forth; desperately he sought that final orgasm. Only an inch between him and death, Craig felt a twinge at the base of his cock; he was going to cum, he would make it. He felt the water break over his face, the tank was full. He lowered his head again, facing out at the crowd. The last of the oxygen emptied from his lungs. His wrist ached, but he had only a matter of seconds left. With a final thrust of his fist, he felt his balls release and contract. His body rocked as he came. His cock twitched, with the final effort over Craig released his grip and ...darkness.