Saturday, January 17, 2015

Flogging, Fucking and Fisting at the Farmhouse

Amish Country, Indiana—November, 2014

It was only a few hours after I came home from the ‘home invasion and rape’ I wrote about in “ForcedEntry” that I got a text from the ‘victim.’  He had wheedled my name and number out of Bill.  Not that I minded.  He was hot enough—and seemed to be into about everything that I enjoyed doing to a man.  I asked what he was looking for and his answer came back swiftly:  “Anything you want to do to me.”  And he also gave me a BBRT profile name.  I signed in and looked him up.  There was not a single box of his “into” list that was not checked. 

We set up a time. 


I’m in the basement of the farmhouse.  There is a naked bulb to light the stairs down and another in the ceiling near where he has hung a sling from the rafters.  A set of chains, about 6 feet apart hang under the light bulb.  And there he is, kneeling, head on his knees, ready to submit.  I strip down quickly, leaving on my dirtiest jock.  I re-lace my boots. 

He has barely stirred.  He’s aware I’m there.  I saw him fight the urge to look up as I clumped down the wooden steps.  I glance around.  He’s put out a cooler with Gatorade.  There is a rickety table with a plethora of sex toys—mostly large dildos.  There is a folding chair near him on the bare concrete floor. I dig into my bag and pull out the wrist and ankle restraints and the spreader bar.  I pull the chair up in front of his bent form. 

“Give me your arm.  And put your head in my lap.”  He moves, not looking at me, but raises himself enough to bury his face in my piss stained jock pouch and give me his arm as commanded.  I fasten the restraint.  I ask for his left.  I fasten that one in place, too.  I push his face into my crotch.  His breath is ragged now; he finds this jock that goes to the piss parties intoxicating.  I pull him up by the hair.  I look him full in the face for the first time.  He’s handsome enough.  A little older than I thought from when I first used him.  He’s wearing nothing but a well-worn white jock.  And a look of total submission.

I spit on his face.

“Sir, Thank you, Sir.”

I get up, leaving him supporting himself on the chair.  I quickly fasten the restraints on his ankles.  Moments later he is clipped in place from the hanging chains—his body forming an X with his arms fastened to the chains and the spreader bar pushing his ankles apart.

I pick up the flogger he has left on the bed of the sling for me.  It’s been awhile—but my training floods back.  I find the right distance—so the strands of the flogger don’t wrap around his shoulders.
 
Thud.  Thud.

Not hard.  Just enough to make the blood race to his back.  I am now forming the perfect X pattern between his shoulder blades.  When he’s reddened I move to a side to side stroke on his ass.  He groans.  His cock is hard and poking out of his jock.  I move up to his back.  Slightly harder now.  The sound of the leather on his flesh fills the basement.  Then I stop.  I move close to him.  My piss shoots out.  I cover his ass.  The man gasps.  When my bladder is spent, I step back and the flogger goes back across his ass.   I stop again.  I move in and hold him, pressing myself against his back.  He must feel my erect cock spreading his ass cheeks.  I run my hands across his shoulders and back, touching him everywhere the flogger did.  Then I hold him, pressed against my front.

Silence.

I undo his arms and ankles.

“Get in the sling.”

He does.  I kneel and spit on his hole.  I stand and enter him roughly.

He gasps.  He glances at a small side table where there are poppers.  I don’t let him use them.  I want him to get used to my cock. 

And he does.  I fuck him for a long time.

I reach for the smallest toy—an 8 inch black dildo.  I grease and insert into him.

The man moans again and eyes the poppers.  His hand snakes out.

“Don’t.”

He pulls back like the bottles were red hot.

I grease my dick with some of the same Crisco/j-lube mixture on the toy table.

My cock is added to his already full hole.

He howls, but the look in his eye tells me this is exactly the treatment he wants.  I fuck him, double stuffed, until I can’t take it anymore.  I pull out and pull out the toy.

“Now we are really going to open you up.”

*****

I am amazed.  This guy has talent.  I usually don’t try for my full fist on a first meet.  He has taken my bigger right hand within moments of my working his hole.  I have relented and he is huffing poppers almost constantly. They are making him hungrier and wide open.  I pull my right hand out of his hole and add the left.  It’s almost effortless now.  His hole is open, but not loose.  It’s muscular and can clamp down on me.  My right hand strokes my cock back to life.

“Take a deep hit.”

He does and closes his eyes.

My cock head is right at his hole, where my left hand is buried.  I push it in.  It glides down my wrist.  I open my fingers slightly.  My cock is in my fist.  I grip myself deep inside him.

His eyes open and looks straight at me.  “Jerk off in my hole, Sir.” 

I begin an almost imperceptible jerking motion on my cock head.  The mind fuck for both of us is intense.  Soon I’m stroking a good five inches of my shaft.

“Give me your cum.  Fill this worthless cunt up with your cum.”

My right hand whacks his ass cheek.  The jolt makes us both flinch.  In a good way.  His hole tightens involuntarily and it makes me I jerk harder.

I know I could cum.  His dick in drooling precum.  My right hand swipes some up.  I lean across him and make him suckle my fingers.

He is shaking.  I’m pretty sure he is having a full body orgasm triggered with the constant motion so deep inside him.

It’s too much. 

I shoot. 

My cock goes off deep in his gut.  My hand feels the head swell with each shot. 

I am shaking, but get my cock out of him.  A gush of my cum falls on the concrete.

I keep my hand in place.  We lock eyes.

“Thank you.  Thank you, Sir.”

I give him a crooked smile in acknowledgement and reach for the foot long dildo…

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