Gay Erotic Stories

It had been a busy fortnight. My company had sent me to Melbourne to sort out some problems in the regional office there, and that had meant two weeks of solid work, but by that Thursday night I had resolved the difficulties and had everything back up and running like clockwork, almost a week earlier than expected. My grateful supervisor had told me to take the following day off, and fly home on Sunday. “Have yourself a long weekend, get out and have some fun. We’ll cover the hotel until Sunday for you.” That sounded like a good idea to me, but I knew no one in this city on a personal level. So what would I do with myself for three full days? The first thing I did was get out of my business clothes, pull on some comfortable jeans and a jacket, and head for one of the gay bars I had noticed on Chapel Street. Several hours, and far too many drinks later, I was on the footpath outside, trying to remember through the foggy haze in my head, how to get back to my hotel. As I stood there a face appeared in front of me. Rugged, square jawed, manly and attractive. “Are you okay?” asked a voice. I nodded my head, trying my best to stand up straight. Unsuccessfully. “Can I give you a ride home?” said the voice again. This time I tried to concentrate on the face and body. Tall, wide shoulders, strong legs. Handsome, my mind said through the fog. “Yeah, that’d be great.” I replied, and felt his arms go around me, before my brain started to give up completely. I sensed I was being helped into a taxi, and then my world began to spin, the haze turned darker, and I was lost, out of it. ************** It was a slow re-awakening. Shaking off the confusion of sleep, I realised it was dark. Not just evening type dark, but black, absolutely no light. I tried to roll over, but couldn’t move. My arms were fastened somehow so that I could lift them a little way off the floor, but no further. I tried to kick, only to find my legs similarly restrained. Panic hit me and I screamed out, as loudly as I could manage – “HELP!” Suddenly, I felt hands at my head. Trying to look up, still there was absolutely no light. I tried to yell again, tried to shake my head from side to side, but the strong hands held me still, then a rough movement as my head was lifted and dropped again. Someone was buckling some kind of belt around my jaw. No – it was a gag. Made of leather, I could feel the texture, smell the unmistakable aroma of the tanned hide. Like a belt, but with a large protruding knob on the inside, which was forced into my mouth as one of the hands squeezed open my jaw, then buckled tightly. Try as I would, all I could do now was let out softly muffled ‘mmpphhhss’. Suddenly, I heard the scratching of a match being drawn across flint. A spark of light, and candles were lit, either side of me. The light was faint, but enough to reveal something of my situation. My eyes opened, took in all they could, and my mind tripped. The man lighting the candles was huge, a muscular, rippling body, oiled and shining, dressed in a black leather harness with metal studs all over the straps, shining black chaps, gauntlets and heavy boots. He wore a hood, which completely obscured his face apart from the eyes, which peered through narrow slits, and a zippered opening for the mouth. Directly above me, a mirror was fixed to the ceiling, so I could see myself clearly. I was naked, my wrists and ankles bound by leather restraints which were connected by metal chains to rings in the floor. I was spread-eagled on a wide bench covered in what felt like leather, also black, the belt-gag in my mouth easily seen. The man who had lit the candles, presumably the one who had restrained me like this, took up a position between my legs, crossed his thick arms on his powerful chest, and simply stood, watching me. I was still in panic mode, and thrashed about as much as I could within the limits off the bindings, trying to get free, trying to call out. He just stood and watched, ignoring me. I quickly realised I wasn’t going anywhere without some assistance, and my attempts to move subsided and then stopped. Still he remained unmoving, his eyes directed at me, with no hint of emotion or concern at all. My struggling had now ceased entirely, and I lay there helpless, looking at him, then up at the mirror to my own reflection, or around the darkened room as best I could, with no reaction, no motion on his part. The minutes passed. Still he did not move. My attention was focusing on my surroundings. I could see little of the room itself, the candlelight not being sufficient illumination. Wisps of smoke drifted in the air, and the smell of oil, mixed with leather, and my own sweat. My eyes were drawn to my unmoving captor, standing silently at the foot of the bench on which I lay, between my legs. I began to really look at him. It occurred to me that I found him very attractive. His shoulders were broad, his skin tanned a golden brown and glistening, obviously oiled. His arms were strong, the musculature defined and obvious. His chest was pumped and chiseled, the nipples dark and erect. The cut 6-pack of his stomach led to a long uncut penis, dangling between his legs, all but flaccid. Even in that state his cock was thick and meaty. Behind and below, his balls were large and heavy. With horror, I realised I was getting turned on. I looked up into the mirror, to see my own cock lengthening and lifting against my leg. How could I be aroused when this stranger had me bound and gagged? I looked back to him, but the leather hood over his face told me nothing, gave no hint of any expression on his face as his eyes remained fixed on me. I tried to will myself not to get hard, but the more I thought about my circumstances, the more aroused I became. I was totally helpless, tied to a bench and naked, with a huge, admittedly physically attractive, man standing over me, with who knows what intentions. And my cock was getting harder and harder with each passing minute! Without a sound, he moved. Uncrossing his arms, he walked into the shadows at one side of the room, where I could not see what he was doing, then returned. In his hands were a bowl of water, steam rising from it, a shaving brush and razor. Again I tried to struggle but it was in vain, my bounds were secure. Ignoring my struggles, he began to lather shaving cream across my chest. It occurred to me that if I couldn’t get away, moving around was the worst thing I could do, and I lay as still as I could, dreading what he was to do. Quickly and expertly he removed the light fuzz of hair on my chest, and did the same with my forearms. He then turned his attention to my legs, shaving them clean. As he began to lather my groin, I trembled with nerves. My erection had long disappeared and I prayed he would be careful if I could not stop him from this. Carefully but with speed he removed all of my pubic hair, drawing the blade close around the base of my cock, and across my ball sac, leaving me completely hairless below the neck. I was surprised at how cool I suddenly felt, had not realised just how much the soft body hair acted as an insulation against the air. Just as I was beginning to think he had finished, he put the shaving gear on the floor, and unfastened one leg chain, pulling it back so that my leg was forced to bend and lift back toward my stomach. He did the same with the other leg and I suddenly knew that my arsehole was exposed and vulnerable. He had easy access to my anus and my butt, and I could do nothing. Again the lathering, this time much more carefully, as he shaved away the down from my cheeks, and removed the wispy hairs in my arse crack and around my hole. Leaving me like this, he again went into the shadows, this time returning with an enema kit, a long hose, pointed nozzle and a large looking bag. The nozzle was inserted easily into my arse, and he squeezed the attached bag, filling me with warm water. I could feel my gut expanding as the liquid was forced into me, until I thought I would burst. The pain was not piercing, but dull and continuous as he continued to fill my body. Finally, when I felt I would surely suffer permanent damage, he reefed the nozzle from me and held a large bucket behind me. The warm liquid was expelled from me with force as my body let nature take its course, emptying my bowel. The relief was considerable, and complete as I felt the last drops pushed out of me. Again he moved so that I could not make out what he was doing. He returned with yet another large bucket of water. I looked at him, my eyes puzzled, until he slowly began to tip water over my body and sponge it off with a piece of cotton rag. Very soon I was washed down and left clean but wet, bereft of any body hair, and still tied to the bench. He replaced my leg chains in their original position, then gathered up the bowls and buckets and left. I heard the click of a door behind my head, and knew I was completely alone. Throughout the whole process he had not made a sound, not said a word. My mind raced at what was happening. Part of me began to panic, yet another part was strangely turned on by the whole thing. He had certainly not hurt me, in fact had been vary careful not to injure me at all, and had taken real steps to clean me down. I guessed he intended to use me for his sexual pleasure – I was no innocent – but maybe that would include some pleasure for me as well? I lay there, feeling more and more uncomfortable, as time wore on. I had no idea of the time of day, or how long I had been here. There was no light from outside the room, and I could not move more than a few inches in any direction. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard a click, and movement behind me. My captor came into view again, carrying an armful of what seemed to be pieces of dark material. He dropped his load on the floor beside me, and reached down, retrieving something. That something was a wide, studded leather dog collar, which he buckled around my neck. I could feel the texture of the leather, and smell the scent of the hide, and when I looked up into the mirror above me, I found it somehow exciting to be wearing this. Next he fitted wide soft leather armbands around my upper arms, tightly. They pushed the muscles of my biceps forward and emphasized the definition of my arms. Then he moved behind my head and I watched in the mirror above as he manipulated something on the floor. I heard the sound of metal chains and realised that he was pulling on them, through a pulley system. It was then that I found my arms being raised above my head. The rings I had assumed to be fixed to the floor were in fact part of a bar that he was now raising. I was dragged up by my aching arms, lifted with the chains and the bar into first a sitting position, then standing. He slid the bench out from under me, and I saw that the chains restraining my feet were attached to s similar contraption. The whole thing could be moved around by him to force me into any position, sitting, lying, kneeling, that he chose. I found myself standing now, my arms stretched above me, but with my feet still on the floor and able to take my weight. Both arms and legs were spread wide so that I stood in a spread-eagled position. He lifted a heavy looking object from the pile, and began to fasten something round my waist. Chaps. Black leather chaps. He buckled the waistband in place, and slipped one leg around me, zipping it up slowly and working it into position as he did, then repeated with the other leg. The chaps were surprisingly well fitted, and the feel of them against my skin, enveloping my legs in the polished leather, began to excite me again. Against my will, I felt my cock begin to lengthen, growing harder and longer as I stood there in leather chaps, leather armbands, leather dog collar, and leather gag. I felt I was living out some hidden fantasy. As the powerfully built man came to stand directly in front of me, I took a closer look at him. In reality, he was a hunk. A beautiful, oiled body, dressed in dark, shining leather with wide shoulders and a long thick tool. That only served to increase my arousal, and I could see quite clearly that my cock was now completely erect, jutting out from my groin and pointing at him. He reached for me then, gripping my dick hard, and I tried to moan through the gag at the touch on my throbbing prong. Instead, he pulled a leather strap around the base of my cock and balls, pulling it hard and tight. So tight I tried to yell but all that came out was a muffled sound as he snapped the thing in place so that I was sure it was cutting off my circulation. Then another strap, shorter but wider than the first, was fixed around my balls, under the shaft of my cock. This he pulled hard as well, making it so tight. The pain was excruciating as he snapped it in place, then slowly it resolved into a dull ache as my poor balls felt like they were pulled down and away from my body. Now that I was suspended and appropriately attired for him, he started playing with me. Still soundless, he circled me, pinching at my nipples, slapping my cock downward with his palm, landing an open palm hard on my arse cheeks before running his hands over my back or chest or down the length of my leather clad thighs. Just as I would begin to think he was going to be gentle, he would slap or pinch at me hard. His hand grabbed my testicles several times, pulling them down hard and sending stabs of pain through my body. Then immediately after he would gently caress my buns, sliding a finger slowly and sensuously between my mounds to prod softly at my crack before withdrawing again. I did not know with each touch whether I would be pleased or hurt, and I began to flinch at his touch. At the same time, my cock remained engorged and rampant, throbbing and proud. I kept telling myself that it was because of the restricted blood flow from the cockring, but deep down this scene was turning me on, and I started to realise I was actually enjoying being used by him as a toy, with no say in what he did to me. As he continued to circle me and play with me, my eyes were drawn to him, or rather to his cock. Where before it had swung flaccid between his legs, with each passing moment, with each grunt of pain or muffled moan of pleasure that I emitted, he grew and hardened, until soon I could see the massive slab of meat that was his manhood poking out, proudly jutting in front of him. And what a cock it was! I swore it had to be a full twelve inches long, the head purple and swollen, and thick: very, very thick. It occurred to me that I was going to be forced to take this monster, and my heart began to race. There was no way I could accept that thing without being torn apart. And yet, the thought of being fucked by that mighty lump of man meat made my own cock throb even harder. The glistening leather he wore flashed pinpricks of light at me from the candles, and his movements mesmerized me as I tried to concentrate on his trembling pole, and the heaving, heavy nuts suspended below it. He made his way around behind me, and I heard a jangling noise. A click, and he had attached a dog lead of steel chain links to the collar around my neck. He pulled at the chain, making my head jerk around, my body following. As he did his hands played again across my back, slapping my skin with an open palm, or gently running his fingers around the chaps I was wearing. One hard jerk at the chain made my head loll back, and I felt a nudging at my arsehole. It was hot and firm, and I knew this was not his finger. The solid flesh pressed against my outer ring, and one of his hands came around before me, holding something up to my nostril: A bottle of amyl. I drew deeply at the opening he presented just below my nostril, taking as much as I could. As the effects hit my system, my entire body tingled, and my cock soared into an even harder state of rigidity. I felt him edge forward, and willed myself to relax, knowing what was coming. I pushed outward, as if trying to relieve myself, and suddenly he was in. With a single movement he pushed himself against me, breached the barrier of my sphincter, split me wide and shoved the full length of his huge weapon deep into my bowel. Even with the amyl and the warning, the pain was searing as he ripped me asunder. A scream started in my throat, blocked by the leather gag in my mouth, but still enough to be heard clearly. I was certain my arse had been split as the red-hot poker he wielded speared into my soft vulnerable gut. As his balls slapped against my butt and he came to rest with the entire length of his masculinity shoved into me, the bottle of amyl was held up to me again, and again I drew deeply, my nerves screaming at the pain within me. He stopped there. If he had begun to pump I am sure I would have passed out. Once again the effects of the amyl poured through me, my heart racing, my blood pumping. The assaulted muscles of my anus gave up their struggle and with the aid of the drug began to relax. The warmth of the pounding blood overcame the intense pain, which lessened into a dull ache and some of the tension ebbed from my back and shoulders. He must have been waiting for that signal, because at that he pulled back quickly, removing all but the flared head of his dong from me, then shoved in again, harder and faster than before. The pain returned, but lesser this time. Repeating his motion, he began to fuck me in earnest, ripping that giant pole from my gut then thrusting it back in again, the full 12 inches of him sliding back and forward through my sphincter, the thick all-filling mass of his pole filling me entirely and finding and rubbing against my prostate. As if a switch had been thrown, the pain disappeared. A thudding ache remained, but it was almost forgotten. I marveled at the sensation. I was beginning to enjoy this! My body was being split apart by a monster penis and yet it was arousing me. My cock, which had begun to shrink despite the cockring, regained its hardness as this faceless, powerful man pumped himself in and out of me. I began to feel his rhythm, and to move with him, the power of his humping sending thrills through me. Without warning, a hard slap landed on my right buttock. The shock and sharp sting made me clench my arse, which in turn caused more pain as it tried to close around the impossibly thick man meat inserted into me. Another slap, and another clench. I swung between painful clenching and relaxed invasion, the whole time getting even more aroused as he fucked me and slapped me at unpredictable intervals. Then it was gone. My captor pushed me away from him, pulling his cock from me in one fast motion, the slurping withdrawal shooting yet another pleasure/pain spasm through my ring of muscle. I felt the vacuum as he withdrew, the incredible emptiness after being so full. I felt an ache in my groin, and realised it was my own cock, so hard for so long, aching for release, my protesting, heaving nuts unable to empty their load. He walked around in front of me, his gigantic prong still jutting out from his muscular body, slicked and throbbing. Again I stared at it, unable to believe that it had invaded my body and left me still alive. He grabbed my nuts with one hand, pulling and twisting them. I tried to yell with the pain that pierced my groin, and his other hand attacked my nipples, pinching hard at my tit, twisting and pulling at it. More jolts of pain sent signals of intense feelings through me, and incredibly, my cock responded by twitching and straining yet again. When he released the grip on my tit and my nuts, I barely had time to breath a sigh of relief before my arms were being swung back again. He kicked the bench under me and manipulated the pulley system so that the restraints on my wrists and ankles forced me to lie on my back on the weight bench. More pulling at the chains, and my legs were hoisted up above me while my arms were dragged down to the floor on either side of where I lay. This pushed my chest up and left my sore and ravaged arse exposed yet again. From where I was, I could look back to see the hooded, leathered figure of my tormentor standing within the gleaming framework of my suspended legs, glowing softly in their dark leather casings from the flickering candlelight. My still hard and throbbing cock twitched again as I took in the sight of this powerful man in control of me, wreathed in black leather and silver steel, his hands reaching out and running slowly along the length of my thighs to end with another squeeze at my balls, as more pain wracked my groin from my tortured nuts. Once more he disappeared into the shadows around the sides of the room, and returned with a large black object. Holding it up in front of me, he ran his fingers down along the length. A butt-plug, solid and conical, of shining black rubber, it had to be over a foot long from the pointed tip to the flared base. At its widest point, just before the flaring shrunk back to a central core, it looked to be almost three inches in diameter. My eyes widened in fright, and I began to sweat. I may have been able to take the massive throbbing cock swinging between this man’s legs, but there was no way that thing would go into me without injury. But that was exactly what he appeared to have in mind. Leaning down between my legs, he nudged the tip of the thing against my sphincter. Involuntarily I closed up against it, but he smeared some lube over the fake prong and pushed firmly. I forced myself to relax, knowing this was going to rip me, but that I would try to avoid tearing any more than was necessary. He pushed the tip into my rectum, so that about three inches invaded me. The conical shape widened so that the muscles of my sphincter were gradually forced to open. As one hand wielded the toy, the other played with my balls, pulling and twisting them so that the aching in my arse was a welcome relief from the sharp stabbing pain when my testicles were gripped and tugged. He continued to play with me, pinching at my cock, slapping my rod so it swung across my abdomen, all the while working the butt plug in and out of my hole, spinning it around and pushing from side to side as well as in and out. With each inward thrust he made further ground as my unwilling rectum gave way to the insistent pressure of the flaring tube of artificial dong. Watching the reflection above my head, my body began to react, to ignore the pain and to notice the sensitivity of my nerve ends. This was like a whole new fucking, each inward thrust stretching me a little wider, the friction at my hole pleasurable as tingles erupted across my chest. The black tube being inserted into me set off the black leather on my legs and my still hard cock ached more. How long could I take this treatment without release? As far as I could tell, he was now managing to push some 9 inches of the thing into me each time, but there was still a long way to go, and that unbelievably wide lip. With each inward push, my eyes widened and sweat poured from me, grunts escaping even through the gag as the pain increased from my stretched protesting anus. Finally, he eased back, my resisting arse unable to take any more, and I thought that he had given up on his mission. But no! He approached me from one side, and stuck a thin metal tube into my nostril, like an inhaler. I could smell amyl. Not as strong as when sniffed directly from a bottle, but with it shoved into my nose, I had no choice but to take a weak dose of the drug with every breath. The effect was slower to hit me this time, but soon my heart was racing and my skin tingling, my erection bobbing around at my stomach. Leaving the inhaler in place, he returned to my arse, gripping the butt plug and re-starting his insistent pushing in and out with that huge toy. The inward thrusts and slow withdrawals were making me horny, my body trembling and my senses reeling. I could see the whole treatment being meted out to me in the mirror above my head, could feel the pain and the creeping pleasure of his attack on my arse as the aroma of the amyl filled my nose, combining with the scent of leather. Harder he pushed, deeper each time. With any sharp pain I breathed in quickly, but that natural reaction served to increase the amount of amyl I was taking, which in turn caused me to writhe within my restraints, aroused by the total control he exercised over me. He could obviously see my excitement, and the effects of the amyl also allowed him to edge the plug further and further inside me. My arse hole was stretched almost to tearing, but the pain was less of a piercing jolt, and more and more a dull throb as incredibly my muscles relaxed and surrendered to allow entry of the huge toy. With a final shove, and a sharp momentary pain in my rectum, the widest point stretched my arse, and popped inside me. The relief was instantaneous, the jolt to my gut only uncomfortable as the plug pushed past and my sphincter tried to close around it, sucking the full length into me so that only the wider base remained outside my body. I was filled, literally, with black rubber, and the sensation that descended was amazingly erotic. I could feel myself being held open by the core of the butt plug, but felt so fulfilled, so complete as it occupied my body cavern. Once he had filled me with the massive black toy, he removed the inhaler from my nostril, and bent to survey his work, jiggling the thing within me, and slapping my rock hard cock before giving my aching balls yet another tug. If my mouth had not been filled with the gag I would have yelled out with the combined pain/pleasure of his abuse of my body. He did not give me time to rest at all, pulling hard on the leash attached to my neck as he walked around me, his semi hard cock swinging and dripping pre-cum onto me as he leaned over. He played with my body again. Short sharp slaps on my exposed skin, and slow gentle caresses. He ran his fingers over the leather armbands, or dragged his slimed and leaking penis across my skin. He pinched my nipples and tugged at my cock. He twisted my balls and squeezed my legs through the leather chaps. He occasionally jangled the butt plug inside me, sending waves of pleasurable aching into me. I swung from pleasure to pain and back again so that I began to be unable to distinguish between the two. After about half an hour of this treatment, he worked the pulley system again, lifting me off the bench, then kicking it out from under me, and dropping me onto the floor where I found myself lying on a padded mat, like a gym mat, covered in black vinyl. Still spread-eagled, and with the huge butt plug lodged within my hole, I looked up, helpless, as he came and stood over me, his legs astride so that my face was almost directly below his giant meat. Taking a long toke at a bottle of amyl, he gripped himself in one hand, the other alternating between his testicles and his nipples, and jacked off. For ten minutes or more he worked that massive tool in his hand, sweating and grunting as he sniffed at the amyl and played with himself. Finally, with an audible gasp, climax crashed onto him and a river of scalding white cum poured from his cock. He directed it at me, shooting his essence all over my face, chest, torso and groin. The splattering juice cascaded down onto me, its sticky ooze coating my flesh as my captor grunted and shook above me. The sight was so erotic, so horny, that I wanted desperately to join him in release, to shoot my own load into the air, but I was unable to touch myself, and in the absence of any physical stimulus, I could only watch him and ache. He shuddered to a stop, shaking the last droplets onto me. Stepping over my prone body, he knelt and wiped his still hard weapon on the leather chaps I wore. Lifting my legs again into the air, he gripped the base of the butt plug where it protruded from my ravaged arse, twisting it and making me jolt with pain again. Somehow I sensed that his eyes, glowering through the slits in the hood, were grinning at me. For the first time I heard a sound from him other than gasped breaths or grunting release. I swore he chuckled, an evil sounding low laugh. With one hand pressed down on my engorged throbbing cock and aching balls, he wrapped his other hand around the base of the toy, braced himself and pulled hard. Without the relaxant of the amyl, or any preparation, my entire body screamed, my sphincter felt as if it was ripped wide and my gut was being torn out of me. The intense pain crashed into my brain, and I lost consciousness. When I came to I was lying on the cushioned floor mat, in darkness. I had no idea how long I had been out of it, but he was not there and the candles had been extinguished. I tried to move, only to find my wrists and ankles remained restrained as before. I could feel the collar around my neck, and the binding on my upper arms. I also became acutely aware of the continuous aching in my balls, and the muscles of my prick. The tight leather cockring and restrainer on my balls were still in place, and the need for release began to make itself known again. I tried to move, but the leather chaps on my legs squealed against the vinyl matting, and I stopped, terrified I would be heard. I licked my lips with thirst after the earlier treatment. I LICKED MY LIPS!!! The gag had been removed from my mouth. But I did not yell out. Who could hear me? I didn’t even know where I was, and the only one likely to hear would be the one who had brought me here in the first place. I could feel the stickiness of the dried cum from his ejaculation all over my body, and the ache in my rear, although I was surprised to find that my arse did not hurt as much as I expected. Perhaps he had not done as much damage to me as I had thought when he ripped the butt plug from me. I heard the click of the door as he entered, then squinted as the feeble light of a match hurt my eyes. The candles were re-lit, and there he was, unchanged, his body as I remembered, his harness and chaps and hood still in place, glowing and black. Again I was moved around, this time forced to lie face down on the same bench, my knees drawn up almost to my ribs, my arse exposed and my cock and balls hanging in open air, so that I could not even use the friction of rubbing against the bench to bring myself to orgasm. Kneeling in front of me, he pulled a tight fitting leather hood over my head and snapped it tight around my neck. There were holes over my nostrils so I could breath, and tiny slits corresponding to my eyes, although seeing was now much more difficult. But the rest of the hood was solid. No ear holes, so sound became a muffled memory. Not that there had been much sound until now anyway. And no opening at my mouth whatsoever. Again I was silenced, unable to do more than make a shrouded murmur through the leather headpiece. I felt something pressing at my rear. Dreading a re-insertion of the butt plug, I tensed up, but in vain. He pushed at my opening, overcoming the resistance, but it was not the gigantic toy of earlier. Into my rectum popped a smallish ball, about half an inch in diameter. In fact, quite a pleasant experience, as my cock began to throb yet again. I felt something else, a pulling, and realised that the ball was attached to a string of some kind. Then another nudge, and another ball was inserted into me. This too was enjoyable, as the two rolled within my cavern. More followed, as he added to the collection within my bowels. I lost count, but guessed that there must have been almost a dozen of the things inside me when he finally stopped. What had started out pleasant was now uncomfortable as I felt myself filled by these balls, jiggling and bouncing against each other within me. Still the tugging sensation, and I guessed that the string connecting them remained in position, extending from my arse. A tug at the leash on my neck, and he tied the string from the balls to the leash, so that any movement of my upper body made the balls move and rub inside me. If it had not been for the discomfort of being so filled, I would have happily stayed like this. The sensation was pleasuring my arse and my innards considerably. But that was not to be the end of anything. My captor resumed his favoured pastime of playing with my body. He pulled at my tortured testicles, caressed my buns along the ridges of the chaps. He squeezed hard on my rampant erection then released it quickly to massage the skin on my back. Feathery touches with his fingers would be followed by unexpected slaps as his palms hit my flesh. I ached, I groaned, I enjoyed it and I hated it, but I could not get enough of this treatment, and all the while I silently begged him to let me cum. After some time, he ceased his teasing, and then I felt another nudge at my hole. Surely there could not be any more balls? But the string from them was still attached to the leash at my neck. The pressure increased, the insistent pushing opening my already ravaged hole even further. It was his cock! With the balls firmly lodged inside me, he slowly but firmly entered me, his huge thick weapon forcing my sphincter apart as he invaded me. As the length of him sank into me, his rod pushed through the balls, making them roll and press against my innards. I was literally stuffed, my body so full it felt I must explode as he shoved his mighty prong into the already full cavity, exploring my chute as he nudged aside the balls. Stretched as I was, I could not believe the sensations that began to build. The motion of the spheres within my gut and the insistent thrust of his huge prong sent tingles of pleasure through me. He began to fuck me then, shoving into me and pulling back to shove again. His long thick pole pounded into me pushing the balls around within me, rubbing and crashing against my prostate as he fucked at me. The feeling was indescribable as he rutted into my arse and my filled aching chasm slopped and slurped with the spheres of latex and his pounding rampant mansword attacking them and me. His strong hands were at my hips now as he shoved himself into me and his thrusts grew faster and harder, but this time there was intense pleasure for me as well. I bucked back against him as much as I could, matching his fucking and gripping at him as I did, taking from him what I could as he used me, shuddering and ramming, plowing that monster cock of his harder into the furrow of my gut. Faster and faster he fucked at me, the urgency in his body palpable as he took me and owned me. I rocked back and forth with him and against him, shaking with the growing need of passion as he built to the point of explosion. Suddenly, he gripped me tightly, and slammed his entire body against me, burying his throbbing pulsing cock so deep within I was sure he would injure me. Without allowing the slightest withdrawal, he began to twitch and bounce against me, and as he did, his hand went to my own swollen throbbing cock, angry with need and built up pressure. His fist closed around my rod, and he began to pump hard on my dong as I felt the explosion rock within me. His huge balls emptied their contents deep inside my hot wet hole, and the spasms of eruption as his dick shot that juice deep within me joined with the crashing wave that engulfed me, my balls finally able to eject their load into my aching cock, which in turn spouted a geyser of cum. I ached, I shuddered and I twitched as my orgasm rocked me to the core, and through it all I felt his shuddering climax fill me, the flood so great it could not be contained as rivulets of manjuice escaped my ravaged gaping arsehole and ran down my legs. Spent at last, he pulled himself from me, and gave my butt a resounding slap as he exited. The balls remained lodged within my cavity, and he tugged at the string, making my body ache within and pulling at my neck, but left them in place. Walking around me, he wiped the slime of his ejaculate from his cock onto my skin, adding pinches and slaps and caresses to the treatment he handed me. I was unsure whether I was being rewarded or punished, but I lay there, vulnerable and controlled, and found I did not want to object. This attention was what I craved, I needed, and I enjoyed. He moved back to stand behind me again and I felt him tugging at the leash, the balls jiggling again inside my sloppy, ravaged hole. He pulled, firmly, and the rubber spheres popped from me in a series of expulsions, easily exiting my stretched and tender anus. As the last of them was pulled from me, he threw them over my back, the residue of his ejaculate and the juices from my own body dripping onto my skin. Finally he stopped, leaving me alone again. I was exhausted, spent completely, covered in the remnants of his cum and my own, sated and tired. With another movement of the pulleys I was hauled around to sit upright on the bench, my arms by my side. He then detached the chains from the pole, and joined them so that I was still restrained at the ankles, but my arms could move around, although joined by a length of chain. He placed a large bowl of water, and a plate with bread on it close by me, and left the room, still without a word. Looking at the food, I realised I had not eaten or drank for many hours. Chained as I was, I would be forced to eat and drink like a dog, lapping at it without the use of my hands, but a fierce hunger and thirst had come on me. I eagerly chewed and swallowed the bread on the plate. It was fresh, but had an unusual taste I could not place. Similarly, I sank my face into the bowl of water and drank fully. Again, there was a taste to it I could not identify, but I was so thirsty I didn’t care. Able to now lie back on the bench almost comfortably, I closed my eyes and wondered at my fate. A feeling of extreme tiredness, a hazy lost sensation came over me, and I drifted into sleep. ******************* When I awoke, it was dark still, but cool. Noises were all around me. I sat up quickly, and a pounding headache announced its presence. I looked around and found I was lying in a small alcove of a shop, which fronted onto an alley. Standing up and fighting against nausea, my head throbbing, I walked a few steps out onto the street. My clothes were roughed and dirty, but when I felt for my wallet it was still in my pocket. I checked it and all of my money, cards and identification were still in place. I stopped a passerby. “What time is it, please?” I asked, knowing I must look a derelict. “Almost 4.30 in the morning,” he said, looking suspiciously at me. “Please … what day?” The stranger backed away from me. “It’s 4.30 Friday morning,” he declared, moving to the other side of the footpath. I thanked him, and started to wonder. I had been drinking, a lot, had left and someone had offered me a hand … then I was chained in a room, fucked and used by a strong man in incredible leather gear … wasn’t I? Or was it all a dream. Did I simply pass out from the booze, to wake up in the alley? I found a cab, made it back to the hotel. A disapproving stare from the night desk clerk, but I was safely back in my room, still wondering, still groggy. I needed to clean myself up. Stumbling into the bathroom, I stripped off my clothes and looked in the mirror. I was bleary eyed, but intact. Even more than that – the hair on my chest, my legs, my pubic area was all there. So it had been all a dream, yet so vivid, so real. But it could not have happened, not in the few short hours since I’d left the hotel to go for a drink. Dream or not, I sat and thought about it, about the dream, about what had become my fantasy. I decided there and then that I would need to do some serious research when I got home, make some contacts. If I was ever going to rediscover the intensity, the passion, and the total surrender which had turned me on (and was turning me on even thinking about it) then I would need to find myself a strong, dominant Master who would treat me the way the captor in my dream had done. It was the only way I could think of to recapture the dream, to re-find my lost needs. The End Comments are always welcome – iainlthr@hotmail.com