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Robert had come over to my apartment on Saturday night and I’d spent most of the time since being tied up with a butt plug up my ass or sucking his cock or swallowing his piss or being fucked or spanked. Now it was late on Sunday afternoon and just as I was about to get another beating, he stopped to make a long-distance phone call.
I was confused and annoyed; who the hell was he calling and why had he stopped just then to make that damn call? I lay there fuming as he began telling the person on the other end of the line all about the fun he was having in Toronto; the dinner party on Friday night where he’d met Carlo’s friends and his hunky straight nephew Marco; going bar crawling with Carlo on Saturday night and meeting Carlo and friends for brunch earlier that day. The one important detail he left out was me; the guy he’d just fucked, lying bound and gagged on the bed next to him!
Then I heard him ask about business matters and realised he was talking to his lover Ian, back in England, which confused me even more. He was failing to mention me, but if he was cheating on Ian and hoping to keep my existence a secret, why use my phone, since Ian could easily find out my name from long distance information?
Thankfully I didn’t have to wait too long for an answer. After a few minutes of shop talk Robert began to laugh and I realised from what he said next that Ian must have asked whose number he was calling.
“I was wondering when you’d cotton on, mate. Remember Carlo saying that he was going to line up a boy for me while I was over here? Well, I’m at his flat and this is his phone. He just got his arse fucked and now he’s tied down on his bed waiting for me to beat his arse again. It occurred to me that it’s eleven o’clock back in London and you’d be ready for bed, so I thought I’d give you something to jerk off to before you go to sleep. Hang on for a sec and I’ll take his gag out so he can talk to you. His name’s Ben, by the way.”
He put the phone next to my ear and a moment later I heard an English voice barking at me from across the Atlantic.
“Can you hear me, lad? What’s he been doing to you? Tell me all about it.”
Happy to hear that Robert wasn’t cheating on him, I eagerly blurted out the story of my weekend so far.
“He’s been here since last night, and he’s kept me tied up for most of the time. He’s tortured my nipples and balls, let me lick his feet and armpits, let me suck his dick and swallow his piss, put a butt plug up my ass, fucked me and spanked me.”
“That sounds like my Robert all right. How about you, what do you look like, and how the fuck did Carlo find an English boy for Robert to play with over in Canada, for God’s sake?”
I told him how Carlo and I’d met, and that I was tall and thin, with dark hair and a hairless body. Ian said that was no surprise, I sounded like Robert’s type and that he always went for boys like me. Just as he was saying that, Robert took the phone away for a moment and told Ian that he was going to start with my discipline. By the time I heard Ian’s voice again, he was audibly excited.
“So, you stupid fucking cunt, you screwed up, eh? What the fuck happened, what did you do?”
This was beginning to sound like a scene the two of them played with their submissives, though doing so across an ocean was a new twist! I knew that was correct when I saw an evil grin spread across Robert’s face as he listened to me answering Ian.
“Master Robert told me I wasn’t allowed to cum without his permission, but his big dick fucked my arse so hard and long that I couldn’t stop myself from cumming all over the clean sheets. I’d gone and done the exact same thing this morning and got a good spanking then. It was stupid of me to do it again and I deserve to be punished, Sir.”
Robert and I were not the only ones aroused; I could hear the excitement in Ian’s noisy breathing; I figured he was wanking his dick on his end of the Trans-Atlantic phone line.
Robert began to wallop my backside, which was still throbbing from the spanking that morning, and boy, did it hurt this time! He used a flat twelve-inch wooden ruler which he’d found in my desk drawer, that made a smacking noise loud enough for Ian to hear over the phone. Soon enough the tears were coursing down my face, while Ian distracted me with a whispered monologue. He told me that I deserved every stroke and that if he’d been there, he’d have been beating me even harder and longer than Robert and then lining up alongside him to fuck my bruised and bloody ass!
By the time Robert put down the ruler, I could tell Ian had jerked himself off to a satisfying end. Robert said goodnight to him and then surprised me by gently massaging my throbbing bum and my tense upper back.
This relaxing interlude didn’t last long, and things soon returned to normal with him shoving the butt plug back in me. He walked out of the bedroom after telling me to relax while he was sitting out on the balcony enjoying his Scotch and water.
For kaçak iddaa me of course, “relaxing” meant being left lying on my stomach with ankles and wrists roped to each corner of my bed, a butt-plug up my ass and painfully throbbing ass cheeks! But I’d signed up for all of this and was happy to close my eyes and doze contentedly for an hour or so, until he woke me with a noisy slap on my tender ass.
“Well I expect you’re hungry and I’m ravenous. You’ve got an ad for a pizza parlour on your fridge, so I’ll phone and get us one.”
Told it would be twenty minutes for delivery, he untied me and gently pulled the butt plug out of my ass, then helped me up off the bed and led me onto the balcony where he’d placed one of my wooden kitchen chairs next to my only patio chair.
“Since I love tying guys up and you get off on being tied up, we have an ideal way to fill in the time while we’re waiting for dinner to arrive. Sit down.”
He tied my wrists, chest and waist to the chair back and roped my ankles to the legs; the bare wooden seat was really hard on my sore ass, but I didn’t complain and sat smiling eagerly up at him as he took another snap with his Polaroid camera. Once again, like earlier on that day, I was extremely grateful for the concrete wall dividers that hid the sight of my naked self from the neighbours around me.
Once the pizza arrived, Robert ate his portion while feeding me; both of us were famished, and we quickly demolished the whole thing. When there was only one slice left, I saw his evil grin again.
“How about some extra topping for this last slice?”
He spat into his hand and grabbed my dick, working it up and down in a steady rhythm, while using his other hand to pull and squeeze my tits. Sensing how quickly I was going to cum, he soon let go of the tit and held the slice down in front of me while giving my cock a last few strokes.
“OK, OK, Tit-boy let it go.”
Even though he was holding the slice immediately under my cock, I came so explosively that cum ended up spattered all over the concrete floor with only a little landing on it. But still he made me swallow the soggy cum-tasting slice, then stood in front of me with his zipper down and his cock sticking out of his jeans.
He placed his legs on either side of my chair, pulled my head downwards, shoved his hips forward and guided his dick into my mouth. He was just as excited as I’d been a few moments earlier and he came almost immediately, rewarding me with a big load of sweet tasting cum.
He slowly pulled himself away and fell back in his chair, grinning at me. As a treat, he poured a finger of Scotch into his glass and held it up to my lips. But since I’d never drunk whiskey before, I swallowed this first-ever mouthful much too fast, which resulted in a coughing fit. After laughing and slapping me on the back, he took the glass back and filled it once again for his own enjoyment.
We sat together for a while, thinking quietly about our fabulous day, until I got untied for the last time. The fun was over for now; he was due back at Carlo’s that evening and the following week he’d booked all sorts of “touristy” things like a tour of Niagara Falls. But I was thrilled when he told me to keep the next weekend free and even happier to notice he’d left his bag of bondage paraphernalia behind; the fun would continue!
I remained in a fog for the next few days, while my mind continually rewound the events of the weekend. At work, walking home, standing in line at the supermarket, or watching TV, I replayed it again and again in my memory, and at home I’d stare endlessly at the Polaroid pictures he’d taken while yearning for Friday to come around again.
But as always, Wednesday comes before Friday and walking into Carlo’s salon for my monthly haircut, I was surprised to see Marco sitting gossiping with the barbers, dressed straight from the construction site, in boots, jeans and a sweat stained work shirt. He looked fucking hot!
When he saw me, he jumped up to give me a big hug.
“Hey Ben, Carlo told me you’d be here soon for your appointment and I was telling him how I’d like to get to know you better. It was fun talking to you Friday night.”
I was taken aback by the hug and by what he said and could only stammer out my answer.
“Yea, Marco. Sure, that’d be nice.”
“Great, I’ve got plenty of time before Trish gets back from Europe. Carlo tells me you’re spending the weekend with Robert, but maybe you’ve got a free night next week for a ball game?”
The last time we’d met all he wa interested in was a blow job, so I suspected that “ball game” didn’t mean baseball, especially since this “ball game” could only happen while his girlfriend was away. That sounded sketchy; why would she object to him going out to a baseball game with another guy? What could be more innocent? Well, Carlo, Marco and I all knew the answer to that question!
Looking at the sexy hunk made me seriously re-think my attitude kaçak bahis about sex with straight men, or at least with this one in particular. After all, how often was a gay boy like me going to be courted by a straight hunk like him? Marco was worth abandoning my principles for; my dick got hard just looking at him.
Carlo started cutting my hair, while Marco sat with one leg sprawled over the arm of his chair, showing off the bulge in his jeans and driving me and all three barbers crazy. Once Carlo finished, the object of our collective lust jumped up and told me we should go get a coffee. But leaving the salon, he headed us in the opposite direction from the coffee bar, guiding me down a quiet corridor until we arrived at a door marked “Employee Restroom”.
He produced a key that he must have borrowed from Carlo, pushed me in and locked the door behind us.
“Come on man, you know what I want. My dick’s permanently hard and it’s not getting any relief with Trish in Europe for a whole fucking month. If I try to hook up with one of my old girlfriends, I don’t know when she’ll go all Women’s Lib on me and tell Trish I’ve been cheating on her while she’s away. But cock-suckers don’t snitch, eh Benny boy? Plus, who’s she going to believe, her straight, ever-loving fiancée or some cock hungry fag?”
“Hey Marco, I’m not some sex crazed faggot and I don’t give out blow jobs at the snap of a finger. I only did you on Friday night because I got so drunk at Carlo’s.”
“Come off it, man, cut the crap out. You were sober as a judge when I saw you with Robert’s finger up your asshole ten minutes after you guys met and you were down on my dick in three seconds flat when I lay on your bed. So, don’t give me that tender virgin shit; especially when you were staring at my junk in the mirror less than five minutes ago. We both know you’re hot for big Sicilian dick so stop pretending and get down on your knees.”
Of course, he was right; both about my behaviour on Friday night and staring open-mouthed at him back at the barbers. Any resistance I might still have offered collapsed when I caught the scent of the work-sweat on his body in the stuffy confines of that small bathroom. I pleaded with him to take his shirt off; and once he shrugged it off, the aroma was so intense and arousing that it overpowered me; his scent was so strong I could taste it.
Without his shirt on I got my first full view of his upper body and I stared in awe at the thick carpet of black hair covering his torso from pecs to groin. Before he could stop me, I pulled his arms up above his head so my tongue could dive into his delicious hairy armpits. Licking Robert’s pits had reminded me of my taste for sexy male sweat and Marco’s was even more luscious. He’d been working on construction all day, so there was eight hours’ worth of sweat for me to savour; I got high just on the smell alone.
After cleaning his pits, I tried kissing one of his luscious looking nipples hidden in amongst the swirls of dark chest hair, but he didn’t want to wait any longer and pushed me down onto my knees. I pulled his pants and boxers down to his knees, shoved my face in his groin and since we didn’t have much time to waste, I quickly rolled his sweaty balls around in my mouth and then swallowed the thick Sicilian dick that he was so proud of. Once it got to the back of my throat. I desperately pushed my own pants and down and started jerking my own dick.
The whole scene felt really sexy to me and it seemed to get him just as excited; so much so that he came really quickly and bombarded my throat with big spurts of his cream. My own cum followed his immediately as I knelt in front of him licking up the last few drops of cum slithering out of his piss slit.
He turned around to get some paper towels for me to clean up the mess, and as he turned back, saw me licking the cum off my fingers. He laughed and shook his head.
“Wow, you really are a cock-sucking cum whore.”
I grinned back up at him and while he was washing his hands in the sink, I stayed on my knees cleaning the rest of my cum off the floor. But then as I got to my feet, he caught sight of the bruises on my backside.
“Fuck man, that ass of yours is black and blue. Is that what Robert was doing to you on the weekend? Wow.”
When he said that, I suddenly felt a need to know what he really thought of the things that Robert and I and his uncle Carlo were into. He was not only as sexy as hell, but seemed to be a nice guy too; I prayed that he wouldn’t react like my ex-friend David had and call me a sick pervert.
“What do you think? Is what Robert and I do just a load of fucked-up shit?”
“Hey, no fucking way man, those bruises look hot. Playing around like that must be a real trip. I’ve always been interested in that stuff ever since I I found out that my Uncle Carlo was into it. I did some light bondage and spanked a couple of girlfriends of mine, but that’s as far as they’d let me go. Let’s face it, nice illegal bahis girls never admit they’re into anything like that.”
I was surprised to hear him admit as much as he did, so remembering Robert’s ideas for him, I pushed a little more.
“Well, what about you having a little fun and experimenting while Trish is away? Robert thinks you’re as sexy hot as I do, and he told me he’d love to have you watch while he messes with me. How about it one night?”
“Well, I’ll think about it, you horny faggot, but I’m not promising anything. In the meantime, we’d better get out of here or somebody’s going to notice. Besides, shouldn’t you be back at work already?”
I spent the next two days day-dreaming about the two dominant men who’d suddenly taken over my life. What did Robert have planned for me on the weekend, his last before flying home to London? What about Marco, was he just humouring me by pretending to consider what I’d said? I hoped for the best but expected to be disappointed.
On Friday morning I got a brief phone call from Robert, sounding like the sergeant-major he used to be while giving me my marching orders.
“I’ll be at your place at six o’clock tonight. Make sure you’re cleaned out properly, and just put on an old pair of jeans and a T shirt. No underwear.”
That put me in high spirits for the rest of the day, and after work, I raced home to shower and douche, then sat down to wait in the oldest, tightest jeans and T shirt I could find in my closet.
But when my phone rang at six o’clock, it wasn’t Robert calling, it was building security telling me that a Mr. Marco Cantrone was waiting for me in the visitors’ section of the underground parking garage. Wondering what was going on, I took the elevator down to the garage level, and as I walked over to the visitors’ parking section, I saw both Robert and Marco standing next to a brand-new 1974 Pontiac Firebird backed into a spot in a dark corner.
“Good to see you my lad”, Robert said quietly. “Marco and I had a conversation on Wednesday evening after your sleazy toilet blow job and he’s very kindly invited us to spend the weekend up at his family cottage which he tells me is on a beautiful, quiet lake 60 miles north of the city. So, don’t waste any more valuable time and get around behind the car!”
Just like he’d done the weekend before, he’d made plans without bothering to consult me. Taken by surprise and confused by this turn of events I start to babbling away at them both.
“We’re going up north for the weekend? I’ll have to pop back upstairs. I’ll need my wallet and some extra clothes. How cool at night does it get up at the lake, Marco? What about a swimsuit? There’s some beer in my fridge, do you want me to bring that down too?”
Robert cut me off by barking at me,
“Oh, stop it. I meant it when I told you this morning to shower, douche and just wear jeans and a T shirt. The rest of Marco’s family are away on a trip, so you won’t be needing anything else. Just be quiet and do what you’re told. Didn’t you hear what I just said? Get behind the car and call me Sir when you talk to me from now on, OK.”
Apparently, he was trying to impress Marco by showing off his control over me and humiliating me, which got me angry when I saw Marco smirking at me behind his back. But when I muttered a sullen “Sorry, Sir” Robert responded angrily.
“Watch yourself sonny. Speak to me respectfully or you’re going to be a lot more than sorry.”
I could hear Marco sniggering as I repeated “Sorry Sir” in a more respectful tone, and while I was staring down at my feet in embarrassment, I heard him popping the trunk of the Firebird.
“Marco says you’re too tall to fit in the back seat, so we decided to put you in the trunk.”
“What, fuck no! That’s not fair, guys.”
I looked from Robert to Marco, who was still grinning from ear to ear. It occurred to me that being locked in the trunk of a car might be an awful way to find out if I was claustrophobic. It knew it wasn’t likely considering how much I loved being tied up but a couple of hours spent in a locked trunk might be too much! I needed a moment to think things through and to calm myself down, but instead Robert came up to me and grabbed hold of my shirt front.
I instinctively moved backwards, only to bump up against Marco, who was standing behind me. As we came in contact I felt his arm go around my neck and a moment later everything went blank. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on the floor of the garage with my shirt off and my wrists handcuffed behind my back.
Marco had used some sort of a sleeper hold on me, frightening me but impressing Robert.
“Bloody hell, who taught you to do that? He went out like a light, that was fun to watch.”
“One of the guys on the construction site is an ex-cop. He did it to me once as a joke, so I got him to show me where the pressure points are. I show off with it at parties sometime; there’s always one stupid fuck who says I won’t be able to put him out. He’s usually on the floor before he knows what hit him!”
Meanwhile I’d was still lying on the ground, angry at both of them and wondering why my jeans were wet.
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