THE BARN

Ever since I was a little kid I had heard of the place. The Mitchell Barn, a hundred and thirty plus year old barn that sat at the back of the original home place. The farm had stayed in operation till Graham Mitchell finally got too old to continue and once he passed away, his own children preceding him in death, it was left to the grandchildren. I remember the ‘For Sale’ signs going up last fall and how everyone in the community wondered who would buy the property and, whether or not they would continue to farm it.

It was too much for anyone local, the farmers just getting by and the property considered too far from any of the towns or cities to be suitable for redevelopment. So, it seemed the grandchildren would be sitting on it for some time, but last April the signs came down. The fields were leased out to some of the local farmers who said the rates were cheaper than they should be but the man who bought the place just wanted the farming to continue. From all appearances the property didn’t change much. The house place acquired a new fence around the back yard and the new barn just behind it was emptied out with all the equipment auctioned off. We saw a black Jaguar, or a Suburban, come and go on weekends and holidays. Otherwise the place was quiet.

It fueled the rumor mill, all kinds of stories of what the new owner was doing. A retreat from the city, a place to just get away from a stressful job, or it was to do some secret business dealings or some corporate training sessions for some weekends other vehicles were spotted going through the gates onto the property. I heard them all, listened to them pretending to be interested all the while knowing the truth. I knew what Mr. James was really doing at the Mitchell place, especially out in that old barn. And I knew to keep it to myself.

I grew here, knew the character of the place and the people that made it up. In my mind they were a superstitious lot, seeing demons and devils at every turn, fearful of anything they didn’t understand, and that included sexuality, or more precisely, those that were gay or lesbian. There was a secret agenda, an attempt to corrupt minds and take over the country. I almost laughed aloud whenever I heard such foolishness, and at times I was tempted to egg them on to scare them even more. It was nonsense. But if they knew what was going on in that old barn it would play to their deepest fears.

I worked over in Bristol, the little town just across the county line, in the repair shop at the Ford dealership. I had been there since sixteen, where I worked part time through high school changing oil and keeping the shop cleaned up. That was four years ago, and I was full time in the shop now, one of only a few for the dealership was small. And after work I would sometimes hang out with the other guys from the dealership or some of my friends from high school who were still around. We would hit the burger joint on Main Street or go out to Sonny’s Tavern to drink beer and watch some game. During the spring and summers, we would go fishing on weekends or travel down to the Gulf Coast to hang out and party with the locals and tourists. In many ways it was a simple enjoyable life. One that provided a certain contentment.

The only problem was I was single, an available bachelor that far too many in the community tried to find a suitable spouse. It was comical how some of the girls in the farming community and in town would come on to me. I understood it, really, I did. I had a decent job, had my own home already and a nice truck. I looked stable and didn’t have a record or a reputation of being mean spirited or hateful. The problem, you see, was I was gay. I knew I was different from an early age and by the seventh grade accepted the word for it: gay. Of course, I kept that to myself, for middle school was bad enough. I wasn’t one to be bullied or picked on, nor was I one to hang with those who did the bullying. I kept to myself, hanging out with those that made me feel part of the group, even with my secret.

There had been what we shall call experiences. The baseball player from Jasper County after the game, the boy at church camp and during the prom, when everyone else was in attendance, dancing with their dates and drinking the spiked punch, I was down in Pensacola at the small gay bar in town. By graduation I had made a few friends online, guys from surrounding areas. We would meet up, sometimes on real dates, going to Greenville or Montgomery or all the way to Pensacola or Mobile.

But there was something missing. Some aspect of my experiences with other guys that left something to be desired. For the last two years I considered the porn I watched online, the kind of scenarios that turned me on the most. Things none of the guys around here would do. None that is, till Mr. James showed up.

It didn’t take long for me to see the new posts online, the descriptions for what was desired, what was expected, the ritual to play. Each one seemed aimed at me. Every aspect of the posts spoke to me, called to me, asking me if this is what I wanted. I knew, from the first posts I wanted to respond to them. It took me a couple of weeks to get up the nerve, but late one night, alone in my house, had been for a few days due to the rainy weather and the other guys busy with girlfriends or family, I typed a response. How I wanted those things he was offering. How I fantasized about it, masturbated to videos portraying those scenarios. I told him how I had gone online and bought gear from some shop in San Francisco just waiting for the opportunity to wear it. I had planned on going to Fort Lauderdale, or Key West, or even Atlanta but suddenly I was faced with the opportunity right here, just a few miles away, secluded from prying eyes.

A response came the next day. An invitation for an interview. I had to present myself, show I was ready, willing, the kind of man who accepted his role in their play. At the time I had not realized it was Mr. James who was posting the invitation, so imagine my surprise when the directions came to me in an email, along with instructions on how to appear. I’d never been so excited and scared. My heart raced with anticipation. I was so anxious I drove by the place three times trying to see some clue from the road as to what was going on. I was disappointed and relieved at the same time. Disappointed I hadn’t seen evidence and relieved for I knew if I couldn’t see something, neither could anyone else.

My interview was on Saturday, 18 July, at ten o’clock at night. Late enough no one would see me pulling into the driveway and going through those tall gates. I can still remember the feeling, the act of getting dressed and driving over to Mr. James’ house. There was a light wind that night, and it was drizzling rain giving everything a reflective sheen. I drove over in silence with my mind racing with what could happen that night.

There was a porch light on and one pole mounted security light by the drive, giving the place a quiet, almost abandoned feel. There were no lights visible inside the house. I pulled up to the gate and waited as instructed. It took only a few seconds for the gate to begin to swing open. The rear yard had a large area graveled, suitable for parking several cars. There were only two sitting there, a Suburban  and an older Mustang, eight-year old model I recognized by the wheels and trim. I parked at the back of the gravel lot and as instructed headed down a path illuminated by low landscape lights. It was barely lit it. The rain had stopped but the ground was still wet.  I walked along the path barefooted, not wearing any shoes. He had instructed me to wear only jeans, t-shirt and whatever accessory I deemed suitable. So, I wore a worn faded pair of button-fly jeans, an old t-shirt that was beginning to develop holes in it, especially around the neck and in the seam under one arm. I had debated the accessory, which of the things I had stashed away to put on. In the end I wore the simplest item, the one that showed the least attitude. I knew I was a novice to all of this. I had no idea what to expect nor what I should do in some situations. I only had the scenes in videos I had watched, and I knew most of those were more theatrics than the real thing. In the end I wore a simple collar, only about an inch wide, with one metal loop in front. Since that is all I was to wear, I didn’t even put on boxers. It made me acutely aware of my cock, the way it felt against the worn denim versus the usual cotton boxer. It moved more freely within the jeans, and it made me slightly aroused as I headed toward the barn.

The path cut through the woods and I followed it, walking through the rings of light till I saw it, the old barn. There was one bare bulb burning over a door to one side, the door the path led to and the one I approached now. It was quiet except for the cicadas, and the barn was sealed up tight. All the doors were solid wood and there were no windows.

I pulled open the door and went inside. It was a large open space with only thick wood columns dividing up it into three sections. The floor was new concrete, finished smoothly and I walked quietly from the entry toward the center of the space where the only lights were on. There was one straight backed chair in the middle of the circle of light. To one side a small black leather sofa which someone was seated on. He looked huge, muscular, wearing black pants that reflected the light and I knew they were leather. Across his chest he wore a vest, open down the front. I guessed him to be around forty but from the distance I couldn’t be sure. To the other side a cage, tall in height, nearly nine or ten feet, I guessed, but only two and a half feet to a side. As I got nearer, I saw more clearly the person inside. He was  young, my age I’d guess, and naked. His arms were stretched over his head and secured to a chain hanging down from the steel bars of the top. He appeared to be stretched out till nearly on his toes. I could see him fully. The small dark patch of hair under each arm, the bare smooth torso with one small tattoo above the right nipple. His cock hung loose, and it appeared wet, shiny in the light. As I drew close to the chair in the middle of the light, I made out a large chair sitting in the dark shadows on the far side. It was occupied, and I knew immediately it would be Mr. James.

I moved to the side of the chair but did not sit for my instructions didn’t tell me I could. I knew from the videos not to do anything I was not given permission to do. I stood silent, hands behind me, back straight, waiting for this interview, this test to see if I was suitable. No one said anything, not even the boy in the cage, so I stood silent as well. I couldn’t see him, only a silhouette in the dark, but I knew his eyes were on me. I felt them, this appraising of me.

I felt my heart racing, the very blood pumping through my veins. My mouth suddenly felt dry and I struggled to relax. Keeping my eyes looking straight forward I watched for any signs of movement. How long I stood there I don’t know but eventually he moved. He stood and walked toward me. A slow steady pace that revealed him slowly in the light. He was tall, with dark hair I would later know had some grey in it. He was fit, a lean muscular build, imposing in a way. He wore a black jacket, black pants and a white shirt, as if he was returning from a formal dinner. 

He came up to me and cocked his head; a slight smile appeared on his lips.

“Lamont, you came as instructed. I must say I was surprised when someone…local, contacted me. I was leery at first, as you might can well imagine. Afterall, the last thing I want is the local community to know my business, my particular pleasures. But you intrigued me. I saw your profile. I wasn’t shocked to see a country boy like yourself to be online like that, but the discretion in which you maintained. You see I asked around, casually of course. At the shop where you work and down at the general store where 218 crosses Miller Road, asking about the mechanic, how good he was and if he was discrete, someone whom I could trust with the cars I may bring here from my collection. Oh, the praises they sang about you, not unlike our Mr. Richardson over there. When I inquired if you took work on the side, maybe to support a wife or girlfriend, well, imagine the shaking of heads and questioning replies. You confuse them, Lamont, keep them in the dark about your true nature. I’m not sure you will want to keep that part of yourself secret in the long term, but the discretion, the keeping secret those things that need to be kept secret, well, that is why you are here now.”

A moan came from the cage and I saw Mr. James look over then back to the man on the sofa. He nodded his head toward the cage and the man stood and went to it. I couldn’t help it, curiosity too great, and I cut my eyes over and watched as the man released the boy’s arms from the chain and helped him out of the cage. I watched as he led the boy toward us into the circle of light. They stopped about ten feet away and I realized there were steel eyebolts in the floor. The boy got down on his knees, then stretched out on the floor. The man pulled his arms out and secured them to one eyebolt then he returned to the sofa without a word. The boy seemed to be going to sleep, his eyes closed and his breathing slow as he rolled over on his back, twisted at the hips with legs together. I saw the red glow of his ass cheeks and the lines of red that encircled his torso. He’d been flogged recently.

“Lamont, why are you here?”

I hesitated, unsure how to answer, then I realized the only answer is the one that admits to my desires that would humiliate me in any other circumstance.

“To give in to my desires to be submissive to another man, to be his object of sexual satisfaction, whatever that may be.”

Mr. James just looked at me with no response in any way, then he picked up the chair walked a few feet away, turned it to face me and set it on the floor. He sat down, back straight, legs crossed casually. 

“Take off your shirt” said Mr. James.

I slipped the t-shirt over my head and started to drop it on the floor, then I remembered something I’d seen online. I held it up, stretched out and folded it, as neatly as I could and laid it on the floor at arm’s length. I stood up, back straight and knew what he saw. I had looked at myself a lot in the mirror, knew every inch of my own skin. I was average in height, five ten, with a lean muscular body. I didn’t have bulging pecs or biceps, I didn’t have a six pack, but I did have definition, and the muscular of someone who did manual labor. My skin tone was darker than most, some question about an ancestor manipulating genes. No one else in my immediate family had my skin tone, but my maternal grandmother had it, as did her father. My hair was a light brown, so light it would acquire blonde streaks in the summer. I knew I looked younger than twenty-two, too boyish in the face, what beard that came in was gapped  and sporadic. My arms looked bare and my legs had the lightest of hair along my calves, and my torso was bare, with little under either arm and a small fan of pubic hair. In high school the guys harassed me, asking me if I trimmed it. Now I knew most guys, gay guys, liked it. After Mr. James next command I knew I would be displaying it.

“Take off your jeans.”

I unbuttoned the first button, took each side and slowly pulled them apart letting each button slip free of the worn holes. I exposed more skin, then brown pubic hair, and finally the base of my cock. I felt aroused, my cock flexing in the confines of my jeans, which grew looser and looser with each button coming free. I pulled the last one free letting the jeans slip over my curved ass and down to mid-thigh. Slowly, maintaining my balance on each foot, I slipped each leg free of the jeans. I folded them neatly and laid them atop the t-shirt then stood back in place. I felt my cock flex under the stare of Mr. James. I wondered if the other man was watching as intently. 

“Not bad but…” said Mr. James stopping mid-sentence making me wonder what he was going to say, afraid it’d be a rejection. Was he going to make me leave, I wondered?  “But you look too…raw. Not ready for me, not yet. I want someone who is, broken in, shall we say.”

What did he want, I asked myself as I stood straight, staring at Mr. James as he kept looking me over. He turned to the man on the sofa and nodded toward me. 

“You need to break him in.”

I knew what was going to happen, had tried to prepare myself for just such a scenario, but when that man came up to me and I realized how huge of a man he truly was, six five, six six at least, and built like a body builder. I felt small, insignificant, a toy for him to play with. He moved behind me, put a hand on my shoulder and I knew what to do. Down on my knees I went, keeping my eyes on Mr. James. It was he I needed to please. The man kicked my legs further apart and I sensed his body moving down between them behind me. A hand pushed at the center of my back and I leaned forward till I was resting on my hands. He moved closer and I felt the bump of his hands and the smooth cool leather against my ass as he undid them. 

“Spread your ass for me” the man uttered in a low commanding voice.

I leaned forward till my shoulders and head rested on the cool concrete as I reached back and spread my cheeks. I never felt so exposed, so naked, out in the light of the circle, ass spread open for the man behind me. I lay with my face on the floor looking over at the boy nearby. His eyes were open, staring at me. I felt the man put his cock to my ass, rub it up and down between my spread cheeks and I saw the boy smile, mischievously, like he knew what was going to happen. He man reached between my legs and grabbed my cock and sac, pulling them between my legs and upward. It hurt, and I struggled to not cry out. He squeezed down on them and I shuddered from the pain. I felt the man’s cock rub along my ass then push against my tight opening. It felt large and blunt against me. He let go of my cock and rubbed his hand over my ass and back. The push against my opening increased and I struggled to relax knowing sooner or later I had to take it. 

A hard smack against my left cheek, so hard the sound echoed in the large space. I cried out from the stinging blow only to realize a new pain, the pain of penetration. He stretched me open, painfully pushing into me inch after inch. His cock felt huge and I lay with my mouth open breathing hard, fighting the urge to cry out again. The boy smiled as the man held me by the hips and shoved the last of his cock into my hole.

He didn’t give me time to adjust, no time to loosen to the breach of my opening, instead he began to fuck, powerfully, abdomen smacking against my ass as he drove that cock into my depths. I stifled a cry out, but my body shuddered from the pain, the punch into my depths by that man’s cock. I turned my head and looked up at Mr. James and saw him smiling and rubbing the front of his pants.

The man fucked me in a brutal pace, slamming inward all the way every time. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as he hammered my insides. My own cock flopped back and forth, smacking wetly against my stomach. I couldn’t believe I was so hard, my cock leaking. The fuck continued till my knees felt raw and my face numb from pressing down on the floor. The man pulled out, pushed down on my back. He held me down for a moment, and I wondered why, only to have my answer as cum spattered my back. I even felt a wad land in my hair. He covered me in it and when he was finally spent, back on his feet redoing his pants I took a deep breath of relief and smelled it, his cum all over me.

“Very good, now go get cleaned up” said Mr. James and I knew that was aimed at the man, not me. I lay still, waiting, wondering what would be next. Would Mr. James use me too? Would he come over and fuck me now? I didn’t know if I could take another cock, but part of me wanted it, wanted to feel another cock sink into my stretched-out hole, to sink all the way into me and fill me with a man’s load.

“You can get  up” Mr. James stated in a low unassuming voice.

I climbed to my feet and saw my cock was erect, the head wet and drooling. I stood still as it bobbed up and down in front of me. I felt the cum trickle down my back, over my ass and down my legs.

“Pick up your clothes and leave” said Mr. James. 

I wanted to know if I passed his test, would I be invited back. I wanted to come back, even if it was the same next time. But he merely stared at me as I hesitated for the briefest moment. I picked up my clothes, knowing I wasn’t to put them on till out of the barn, and walked to the door. 

Back at my truck, still carrying my clothes I was tempted to get in naked and drive home. I didn’t want to get dressed, not yet, with the feel of cum still running down my body. But I didn’t want to mess up the seat either and I slipped the shirt over my head and pulled on the jeans before getting in my truck.

I thought back to that time after the interview, as he called it, and how I was a wreck, checking my email and online account constantly. I literally sat in my kitchen staring at my cell phone begging it to show a message from Mr. James. God I was a desperate son of a bitch.

I can’t believe how much has happened since.

Standing at the lavatory I looked at my reflection in the old beat up mirror of the shop bathroom. I had the zipper pulled down half way of my chest and could see grease smears on it, along with my forehead and upper arms. Typical. I kept my work area neat and clean, the cars always protected, but I was always a mess. But I also saw the person, the one with secrets, the one who felt his sex in ways unimaginable before Mr. James.

I had a date that night, the second one with him, the one who truly understood me. But I wondered how he saw me, the physical me. I wasn’t muscular like the man or Mr. James. I wasn’t hung with some monstrous cock. Unzipping the coveralls till they spread apart and fell from my shoulders I looked at my naked body. I wore no undershirt, no boxers, and now I stared at my nudity. He called me lanky, and when we had finished fucking, he called me his country boy.

I zipped up and headed back to the shop. I had an alternator to replace, two oil changes and tires to rotate on Mrs. Owens old Mercury. I glanced up at the clock. Ten past three. If I hurried, I could easily be done by five, if not sooner.

Outside the air felt wetter than usual for a fall day, the ground still wet and covered in the leaves from the trees. I climbed into my truck, started it up and tuned the radio to a satellite station. It was a club sound from years ago, one that sampled sounds, with a lot of metallic bangs and grinding. I’d never heard anything like it before, but I heard it at the barn, late at night, and it aroused me to hear it now.

As I drove out of town heading home, I reflected on the past few months, and how everything seemed different now. The interview, then the wait to be invited back. That had been the worst part of everything. The wait. It had taken nearly two weeks for Mr. James to contact me. I remember the message, thought of it every time I’m was with him taking off my clothes.

Come Friday night at 10 pm; be prepared to stay all weekend. Come wearing just the accessory, nothing else.

It made me laugh now to think of it. ‘Just the accessory’ he had stated, and I knew what he meant. I had agonized over it, worried about going over there with nothing on but a collar. I couldn’t imagine it, riding over to his place naked. The ways that it could go sideways were too numerous to consider.

But it made me hard every time I thought of it. Even now my cock flexed freely within my loose coveralls.

At home, I took a hot shower scrubbing off the grease and grime till my skin turned red. Towel around my waist I went into the kitchen putting left over chicken and rice on the range to warm up. He didn’t get off from work till nine or later, so this date wasn’t about going to dinner or out to some movie. This date would skip all of that and just be the two of us rolling around on his bed for as long as our stamina would allow. It excited me, made me feel aroused to consider the relationship we were developing. First the physical nature of it, the pure wanton sex. But over time, who knew; it could develop into something different.

After I had my dinner, I lounged on the sofa still in the towel, flipping through the channels. I watched a little news till the latest bullshit from the White House was reported and I flipped over to some sports channel with two talking heads going on and on about the playoffs. Flipped the channel again and it was some old television show in reruns. I had enjoyed it as a teenager but found it insipid now. Turning the television off I went to my bedroom to pull out clean clothes to wear. Anything to pass the time.

It took nearly forty-five minutes to drive to his house. He lived over in the next county, down near the river. At nine I was dressed and heading out the door. I would take my time driving, maybe even take a slightly longer route that would let me drive up along the river for a few miles. The night sky was clear and the moon nearly full, so the river would be visible, the surface dark and smooth, reflecting the moon and stars.

Heading east, I drove toward the next county. It wasn’t too late, not by my standards, but every house I passed was curtained off concealing the residents inside. Like that first night being called back to Mr. James, it was a Friday night, and like then I was to arrive at ten and like then I planned to stay all weekend. But this time was different from then. This time was special in a different way. Even so, I couldn’t stop from remembering that night, just a couple of months ago.

The invitation arrived nearly two weeks later, on Wednesday night. It was almost midnight when my phone beeped with the message. I was awake in an instant grabbing up my phone.

Come Friday night at 10 pm; be prepared to stay all weekend. Come wearing just the accessory, nothing else.

I laid awake the rest of the night, trying to imagine what would happen, how Mr. James might use me or have the man do it instead. Either way was acceptable, as long as Mr. James watched. Thursday and Friday seemed to pass so slowly I was a wreck by the time I got home Friday afternoon. I washed my truck, did laundry, laid out clothes to wear, only to remind myself I couldn’t wear them. And still the time passed too slowly, till finally, after going in circles, the clock said nine fifteen. Time to go. I wanted to be early, have time to get prepared. I had on a pair of gym shorts and on the way out I grabbed up my wallet, cell phone and the collar. 

On the drive over, I fingered the collar as I drove, felt the smooth leather and the cool metal buckle and metal ring in front, considering what it meant, the submission portrayed when wearing it. About a quarter mile away from Mr. James’ house I pulled to the shoulder of the road and stopped, staring straight ahead for a moment collecting my thoughts. I raised up slipping the gym shorts off tossing them on the passenger seat. I put the collar on, securing it at the back of my neck. My cock rolled over and thickened, showing my aroused state. Putting the truck back into drive I eased back on the dark empty road and drove to Mr. James’ place.

Parked in the gravel lot, I saw the same two vehicles as last time, the Audi and the old Mustang. It was quiet, with only the low landscape lighting as before. I stepped out of my truck and stood a moment, feeling the cooler night air against my bare skin. Exposed to any prying eyes, completely naked, except for the collar. I walked toward the path that led to the barn.

Everything was the same, down to the one lone bulb burning over the door. I hesitated at the door, hand on the handle, asking myself if this is what I really wanted. Opening the door, I stepped inside, knowing the answer even as I asked myself the question.

Inside was different. The circle of light wasn’t in the center of the space, but further over toward the far wall. I walked through the darkness heading to that lone light. I could see someone on the floor and as I got closer recognized it as the boy. He was naked as before, laid out on the floor on his back, arms pulled up and secured to an eyebolt and legs spread out each hooked to an eyebolt. I moved into the light of the circle stopping only a couple of feet away from him. I was at his feet and he had to hold his head up to look at me. He stared at me without saying a word, but the smile he gave me brought me up short. There was a wickedness to it, something mischievous about it. ‘He knows what is going to happen’ I thought I as stood still, hands down by my sides. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw the man sitting on a chair just out of the circle of light and to his left, a bit further back Mr. James, sitting as before in his chair, high backed with wide arms. It occurred to me to consider it a throne for the mass of the thing was huge compared to a normal armchair.

Another light came on just to my left and I saw it, this big wooden cross with metal rings at each of the four ends with leather cuffs dangling from them. I knew this was for me. The man stood, picked up something from the floor and came toward me. I heard the boy giggle as the man came into the light. He held a flogger with a long mass of leather strands hanging from a thick handle of twisted leather and metal rings.

“Go on, move” he commanded, and I walked to the cross till I was right up to it looking through the ‘v’ shaped space into the darkness beyond. The man came up behind me and I held my arms up to each of the cuffs. He secured each wrist then stooped behind me pushing my legs apart till he could cuff each one in place. Before he stood, I felt a hand rub my lower back down over my ass. Then both hands were on me, rubbing my cheeks then spreading them.

“I can’t wait to see this stretched opened and fucked” the man uttered in a low voice.

The man stepped back but I could sense he was still close. Then I felt it, the leather strands hitting my back and ass, gently, a quick repeating brush against my skin. I knew he was rotating the flogger, letting it caress my skin, get the feel of it before he really used it on me.

For a moment there was no contact, the flogger pulled away, then it hit me, across the back, hard, and I pushed forward fighting the urge to cry out. It hit me again, lower this time. I felt the strands wrap around my waist, a hot stinging sensation that made me twist in my bonds. The next hit came across my ass and all too quickly, unable to react to any one, the hits kept coming, hitting my ass till my skin felt on fire. Then he hit the back of my thighs and I cried out. 

It continued for an eternally long time, the hits across my ass, across my thighs, then over my back. I felt the strands wrap around my body. The sensation of burning, stinging skin seemed to be everywhere, from neck down to my thighs. 

He stopped, and I hung in my bonds breathing hard. Looking down I saw it, my cock, sticking out fully erect. It bobbed up and down displaying my arousal, hiding nothing from the man. He moved up behind me and undid my ankles then my wrist. I stood still, rubbing each wrist looking straight ahead, waiting, wondering what was next.

“Turn around” the man commanded, and I turned till facing him. He looked huge in front of me, broad shouldered, muscles bulging everywhere. He nodded upward, and I held up my arms allowing him to secure me once again.

I could watch him now, see his every move. The way he paced back and forth studying me, the way he eyed my nakedness. I could feel my cock flexing as it stuck straight out in front of me, still hard as a rock. He swung the flogger, suddenly, without warning, hitting me across the stomach and I clinched my jaw tight to keep from crying out. He hit me again, and again, once across the chest and my nipples stung from the hit. I pushed and pulled against my restraints as he hit my stomach harder and faster. Every blow stung till my skin seemed to be on fire again. He swung lower, hitting my cock and balls and I howled, uncontrollably, as I twisted my hips. 

The man laughed as he swung again.

When he finally stopped, I was barely able to stand. My skin burned and looking down I could see the redness of it, the way it covered my chest, stomach and even my thighs. My cock stood out rock hard. I watched him move to me, release me from the bonds then secure a leash to the collar. He led/dragged me across he room till I stood at the boy’s feet. The boy was hard, his cock angled over his abdomen as he looked at me. The man put a hand on my shoulder and pushed down and I went to my knees. I was between the boy’s legs wondering what was going to happen next. The hand went to the center of my back and pushed again. I bent over till I was on hands and knees, each hand either side of the boy’s torso. Hovering over the boy I could see his face up close. 

I had thought he had black hair, but I could now see it was a dark brown, a color that made me think of chocolate. He had brown eyes, so dark I couldn’t see the pupils in the irises. And his skin tone was darker than mine, like he had native ancestry, and so smooth looking, not a blemish anywhere on his face. He didn’t even show a shadow of a beard. I looked downward, over his long neck, the indention at the base of it, the collar bone and down to his nipples, the one on the right circled by a tattoo. It had appeared to be barb wire but up close I could see it was a vine, with a few leaves along its length, red in color where positioned over the nipple. It seemed so unusual, in this place, something that seemed entirely wrong. Looking at the leaves again I realized they were three to a stem and knew what kind of vine he had tattooed around the nipple.

As hands took me by the waist holding me in place, I stared at that tattoo imagining my tongue following its curvature. I swung my head further looking between my legs. The man’s legs were between mine and I could see them move toward me as I felt it, his cock, pressing against my opening. I closed my eyes, slowed my breathing and relaxed as the man breached my tight opening pushing inch after inch of his hard-thick cock into me. He pushed in all the way rocking me forward, then pulled outward till I felt nothing but air. Before I could prepare, he punched back through my tightness, shoving inward all the way. I gasped, clinched my teeth as I felt him penetrate me again.

Still holding my hips, the man pulled out and shoved back in again, and again and again. I opened my eyes and saw the drool from my cock stretch from the head to the floor. As the man kept at me, I loosened to his fuck, began to relish the feel of each penetration. Looking up the boy was smiling at me. The grip on my waist tightened and the man began to fuck in earnest, to keep that cock in my hole hammering it into my depths. I rocked with it, my cock flopping back and forth with the man’s growing roughness and increased pace. 

He released my hips and one hand came down on my back and slide along my spine. I felt it move slickly over my skin and I realized I was sweating. The hand came to my neck and squeezed then opened fingered, combed through my hair. He grabbed my hair and pulled upward bringing me back to my knees. I rocked with his continuing fuck, feeling his cock push up in me. An arm reached around, and I felt him take me, grasp my cock tightly, squeezing it making me push forward trying to fuck through his fist. He stroked me, and I felt his hand quickly turn wet, slick, as it stroked my hard shaft and rubbed over the wet head. I shuddered every time he raked a finger over it. 

The man began to push into me harder rocking my hips outward causing my cock to push through his fist. It felt good, too good and I was soon rocking my hips, pushing back on his cock then pushing forward thrusting my cock through his fist. I kept it up, working my hips with wild abandon, unable to get enough. I wanted him deeper as I pushed back smacking against his abdomen, then I wanted to fuck to release as I shoved through his fist. He pulled at my hair harder, tugged my head back and I cried out. I reached back and held his hips as I pushed back again. He let my hair go wrapping his arm around my neck bearhugging us together. He tightened his hold till it was difficult to breathe. I closed my eyes focusing on the sensations.

I shuddered, then shoved back hard. I felt it, the surge of release and I shoved my hips forward thrusting my cock through the fist and came. It felt like my cock exploded with cum gushing from the slit. I shuddered with each ejaculation. The man shoved into my depths, and I felt my opening spasm around his thick shaft. He grunted in my ear, his body shook against my back and I felt him thrust inward against my ass, one, two, three times, knowing he was filling my hole with his load.

He pushed me over onto my hands and knees again and I realized he had slipped out of my hole. I felt the air against my back, my ass, even my opening. I felt the trickle of cum run down my ass and down my thigh. Looking down I saw the cum spattered face and chest of the boy. I could smell it, the familiar scent of my own cum. I looked down the boy’s prone body amazed at the number of pools of cum that covered him. I looked into his face and saw him staring back. His eyes were studying me as if he could read what was inside my mind. Sweat ran down my face and I felt a drop run down my nose, bead up on its end then fall onto the boy’s upper lip next to a wad of cum. He stuck out his tongue and lick it off, both my sweat and cum. I wanted to lean down and kiss him, I wanted to taste that part of me that was in his mouth. But I knew not to touch him. I stayed in place, on fatigued arms and legs, waiting.

I heard movement, then saw a light come on in the back of the space. I couldn’t tell what I was seeing, some odd furnishings I couldn’t make out. The man came back over and helped me to stand, tugging on the leash till I was standing at the edge of the circle of light. The man leaned down and undid the boy, first his ankles, then his wrists. The man helped him stand and saw how the boy struggled to gain his balance and I wondered how long had he been on the floor?

Led across the room toward the newly lit area I saw Mr. James come into its light. He wore only a pair of black shorts and black boots; nothing else on his muscular body. I kept my eyes on him as we walked through the darkness heading his way. As we neared, I saw the shorts were no ordinary pair. They were leather, and the crotch was a cod piece. I knew it could be removed in some manner, snaps or a zipper maybe. Some quick way to free his cock. We were at the light’s edge before I looked at the furnishings. I was shocked to see a stockade. It was lower than expected, sitting on a small platform. Toward the back of the circle of light I saw the rear wall with a table where a couple of bottles and large realistic looking dildos were sitting. Two straight back chairs sat to one side and on the other two cages, only about three feet high and not very large in area. They sat apart, several feet so anyone in them could not have contact with the other. 

The man pointed to the floor and I stopped exactly on the spot. The boy came up beside me and I realized he was taller than I, a few inches at least, but he was softer looking, still a teenager in appearance. We watched the man retrieve a chair bringing it close setting it in front of us, then he backed out of the light sitting in the other chair.

Mr. James came over and sat down. He looked us up and down as he sat relaxed, legs slightly apart. 

“Lamont…for the rest of the weekend you’ll address me as ‘sir’. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you still feel it, the fuck you had over there?”

“Yes sir.”

“Feel his cum leaking from your ass?”

“Yes, sir.”

Feel that filthy hole still loose, wanting another cock shoved in it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He stood up and came up to me. He slipped a finger through the metal ring and pulled me toward the stockade. I had to get on my knees and lean forward to rest my neck and arms in the lower half. He pulled the top half down and locked it in place. Once again, I felt my nakedness, completely exposed. Bent over, torso leaned forward, I knew my ass cheeks were partially spread apart. Could he see the trail of cum from my hole down along my thigh? The cum his partner pumped into me just moments before. 

He went over to the boy and grabbed him by the hair. He was rougher with the boy, more physical, dragging him and the chair across the room to a point directly in front of me. He sat and pulled the boy over his lap. He looked up at me, smiled as he rubbed the boy’s back and ass.

“This is the nastiest slut I have ever encountered. More so than the boys of Argentina, or Thailand, or Germany, or San Francisco. He wants it rough. He loves it when I pull his hair a slap his ass red as I fuck him. Don’t you boy?”

“Yes, sir” the boy replied. 

“You should see him take my partner’s fist. Slips right on in…amazing.”

I tried to picture it, the man’s big fist going into the boy’s hole. It seemed impossible, that narrow waisted boy taking such a large fist. There was the smack of a hand on ass and I watched as he whipped the boy. At times he would bring his hand down hard then rub the red skin. The boy never cried out, never struggled to get away from him; the boy took every blow till his ass glowed red.

Finally, after a painfully long time, he stopped, grabbing the boy by the hair pulling his head up.

“Was that enough?”

“Yes, sir.”

He made the boy stand up and I saw it, his cock so hard it was standing up at an angle. I saw the drool falling from the slit wondering if it was enough to reach the floor. The boy stood still as we watched his cock bob up and down, and drool till it stretched down to the floor. The boy was so aroused. When sir stood up, he led the boy toward me, getting him to stand right in my face.

“Suck” sir commanded, and I didn’t have to be told twice. I wanted that cock, wanted to taste the boy, to know him. I didn’t lick or kiss the head. I opened my mouth and took it in my mouth. I struggled in the stockade to get more as I sucked hard on that leaking head. The boy gasp at the suction then moved forward feeding me every inch till my nose pressed into his abdomen and I struggled to breath. 

The boy began to move his hips, slowly, letting me feel every inch move over my tongue. Sir moved around behind me and I felt his hand rub down my back then ass, fingers raking between my cheeks. He rubbed my opening, then penetrated it, working more than one finger in my hole. I couldn’t be sure how many he worked inside my hole, but he stretched me open some more, twisting fingers around till I felt my cock flex between my thighs. The boy braced his hands on the stockade and worked his hips in a steady rhythm using my mouth for his pleasure, fucking it, feeling the slick heat of my mouth take him. 

“You like that mouth?” Sir asked.

“Yes, sir” the boy replied as he pushed in deeper till his cock went into my throat. I couldn’t breath as he held still, my throat working around his cock trying to get air.

When the boy pulled back and I gasp for air I realized I had been penetrated, that a cock was sinking into my depths. Sir straddled me, legs tight to my sides as he pushed his cock into my hole. He fucked me slowly, letting me feel every inch that bore into my depths. The boy’s cock slid over my tongue letting me taste the drool that continued to leak from it. 

After what seemed only a short time Sir began to fuck me faster, rocking me roughly in the stockade. He reached around my waist and stroked me in rhythm with his fuck. I felt that hand work my slick shaft and I moaned around the boy’s cock. 

Sir didn’t get me off, left me wanting as he released me and pulled out of my hole. The cool air hit it and I felt empty. I wanted him to put it back, to sink that cock back into my depths. He pushed the boy back depriving me of his cock. I gasped for breath as I looked at the boy’s wet cock glistening in the light. I watched him come around, cock protruding through a hole, the cod piece removed. It was thick, the head flared out wide and wet from being in my cum filled ass. He unhooked the stockade and helped me stand up. I felt wobbly, taking a second to gain my balance. He sat down and held up his cock.

“Okay boys, you know what to do.”

The boy and I moved to either side of him getting on our knees. Our mouths worked side by side up and down the shaft and we took turns taking the head swirling our tongues around it and suctioning out his precum. I leaned down and licked his balls, worked both in my mouth. Then I went to the base of his cock and worked my way to the head. The boy’s mouth was on it and I licked the side of his mouth. Then we were kissing, lips pressed together. Sir grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back and I cried out. He moved my mouth back to his cock and pushed me down on it, all the way till I gagged. 

The boy’s head was between Sir’s thighs, buried up in the space below his balls. Sir spread his legs giving the boy greater access as I moved up and down on his cock. I felt that cock swell up thicker, grow longer in my mouth. The boy moved up next to me and licked the base of the shaft whenever I moved up to the head. Sir grabbed me by the hair pulling me off his cock. I was drooling, lips and chin wet as he held me in place.

“Enough” Sir barked, and the boy pulled back sitting on his heels. “Lay back” he said to the boy and I watched him lay on his back, cock angled over his stomach still hard. “Sit on his cock” Sir said to me leaning close to my ear. I felt his hot breath.

I stood and moved to the boy, stood straddling his body facing him.

“No, turn around; face me” Sir ordered, and I turned around. I squatted down and as I hovered over the boy, I took his cock holding it aligned with my hole. I eased down on it, felt the head squeeze through and I kept moving down till I was sitting on the boy’s lap, cock buried all the way inside of me. 

I looked at Sir, stared at him defiantly as I rose up feeling the boy’s cock move through the tight ring of my opening. I moved back down, sinking it back inside my hole. Slowly I moved, finding my rhythm and how high to pull upward. My cock was still hard, flopping with up and down with my movements. I increased my pace, rode the boy’s cock faster and faster. It slid easily through my loosened opening and I savored the feel of penetration. 

“Hold still” Sir commanded, and I sat down on the boy’s cock and held still. He rose from the chair and dropped down on his knees in front of me, kicking the boy’s legs further apart, and mine in the process. We were spread open for Sir, both of us and I felt fearful, knowing what he intended to do. He pushed me back and I worked my legs from underneath me to out in front either side of his body as I lay back. The boy wrapped his arms around me, one across my chest, the other around my neck. Sir slipped his arms underneath my legs, lifting them up as he moved toward me. He pushed them back spreading me open further and I knew he could see the boy’s cock sunk in my hole. He moved closer, pushing his cock down and I flinched, afraid I couldn’t take it.

“Relax, let him in, let him put his cock next to mine” the boy whispered in my ear, “I want to feel his fuck against my cock” he added as I felt the wide flared head of Sir’s cock push against me. I threw my head back and felt the boy nip my earlobe, bit down hard enough to hurt. I felt the push against my hole, the stretch of my opening, painfully widening to accommodate Sir. His cock squeezed in next to the boy’s and I shuddered with the pain of it. He held my legs pushed back and watched his cock slide into my hole.

“Take him, let that cock fill you” the boy whispered as I felt Sir sink into me further. If felt like feet instead of inches going into my hole. I couldn’t believe it, my hole opening enough to take the boy and Sir.