by Neil Plakcy
“Do you like that, Larry?” he asked, leaning in to nuzzle my neck. The gloved hand roamed down my back to my butt crack.
I mumbled something. “Speak up, Larry,” he said, stepping back from my neck. “Don’t make me have to discipline you.”
Okay, I’ve seen my share of porn. “Yes, sir. I like having my tits pinched.”
“I thought you would.” He reached back into his drawer for a leather strip with metal studs. He grabbed my dick and held it out from my groin. His touch against my shaft was so electric I was worried I’d shoot off right then.
He snapped a metal ring around the base of my dick and fastened a silver metal chain to it. The chain split into two parts, with one part clipped to each tit clamp. Victor adjusted the chain so that if I tried to straighten up, it would put pressure on my dick.
“And now for the final touch,” Victor said.
Jesus, I thought. What else did he have?
He showed me what looked like one of those sleep masks that people wear who can’t doze off when there’s any light around. Gently he positioned it over my eyes and then closed it behind me.
It was so weird having that mask on. I mean, it was strange enough to be positioned like that on his bed, with the tit clamps and the cock ring and the flyswatter. But once my eyes were blocked, all my other senses were magnified. As he stroked my butt with his leather glove, my whole body was focused on that. Then he must have lubed up a finger, because he began playing with my hole, loosening it up until it felt limp and gooey, and I started pushing back against his finger because I was so eager to get plugged.
Then I heard the sound of his zipper, and his pants falling to the floor as he stepped out of them. He pried my ass open with both hands, the leather-gloved one and the other, and then slammed his dick into me so hard I thought I was going to fall over.
I howled in pain. No matter how much he’d loosened me up, I wasn’t prepared for that. “Ow, ow, ow!” My tits swelled, and my dick protested against the restraint of the cock ring. I started panting for breath and felt sweat breaking out on my forehead. My ass felt like it was on fire. “Take it out, please!”
“Can’t do that,” he grunted. “Get used to it.”
He pulled partly out of me, and the pain subsided, but then he slammed right back in. He began to pound me, in and out, in and out. It took a while, but eventually I got accustomed to the pile-driving. I was still sweating, but my whole body felt alive in a way I’d never experienced. Victor’s hands on my ass, the light breath of the air-conditioning against the back of my neck.
My dick ached for release, but once again I couldn’t touch it because my hands were otherwise occupied, bracing my body against the bed. With one last massive thrust, Victor slammed into me, and I felt the condom’s reservoir fill with his come.
He slumped against me, his hands still wrapped around my ass. “Um, Victor?”
“Shut up.”
He wouldn’t let me move. So this was it? Wasn’t he going to take care of me? My balls ached for release, and my dick tried to relax but couldn’t because of the pressure of the cock ring.
Finally he let me go, took off my mask, and walked into the bathroom. I couldn’t move with my cock and tits tied together. When I tried to balance myself on one hand and use the other to free myself, I couldn’t manage it. I heard Victor in the bathroom, running the water. Was the bastard going to leave me there while he took a bath?
I turned my head when he came back out. He was shirtless, with a studded black leather harness crisscrossing his chest. A pair of black leather chaps laced over his crotch, and through the gaps I saw a black leather bikini.
“Wow,” I said.
He didn’t answer me. He had a warm, wet washcloth in his hand, and he used it to clear the lube out of my ass. Then he released the clamps and said, “Roll over on your back, with your legs in the air.”
I was still hella horny, but I’d had enough of Victor’s games for one night. I was about to protest, but he said, “Now,” in a way that scared me.
I did as ordered, my dick flapping against my belly as I leaned back and raised my legs. Victor sat beside me and grabbed what looked like a fishing tackle box from his bureau. It was such an odd thing for him to own and seemed so out of place in his sleek, magazine-layout bedroom.
When he flipped it open, I saw it was filled with sex toys. He picked out a leather strap. “Ever had your balls stretched?” he asked as he grasped my nuts.
“No, sir.”
He wrapped the strap around my scrotum and tightened it. It was uncomfortable but not painful. Then he reached over to the tackle box and extracted a butt plug, which he inserted in my ass without lubrication. “Victor! That hurts!” I said.
“Good. What’s sex without a little pain?”
That sounded like a rhetorical question to me, so I didn’t answer.
Then he got the handcuffs out, a simple metal pair unlike the soft-lined ones he’d used on our first encounter. I let him snap them over my wrists. Then he stood up and used the chain between the cuffs to tug me to my feet as well.
My balls hurt as the leather strap forced them downward, but I didn’t say anything.
Victor busied himself over the next few minutes with a variety of toys from the tackle box. He put the nipple clamps back on, then fished out what looked like tiny weights. He got down on his knees to attach them to the strap around my balls, and the tugging sensation intensified.
I didn’t know how I felt about all of it. Sure, I was horny, but I was twenty-two. Almost anything made me hard, from the touch of a guy’s hand on my arm to being jammed next to someone on a crowded dance floor. I had a hard time understanding porn movies, because those guys seemed to be able to go hours without ejaculating. I could get off quickly and then be ready again within minutes.
But all this freaky stuff? It was interesting, but I didn’t need all the toys and gadgets in the way Victor seemed to. I just liked having sex.
When he was finished hooking me up, he picked up this leather-wrapped stick with a lot of black leather strips attached. He began stroking my ass with it but quickly graduated to slapping me. “Ooh!” I said the first time those strips slapped against my tender butt.
“You like that,” Victor said.
Well, I didn’t love it, but it wasn’t terrible. That is, until he began pounding me.
“Victor, you’re hurting me. Stop, please!”
“That’s the point,” he said.
Even though my hands were cuffed, I twisted away from him, and his last slap landed across my stiff dick, which hurt like a mother. That was it.
“I’m done,” I said. “Unhook me and let me get out of here. I’m not into pain.”
Victor put the leather whip down. “I’m sorry, Larry,” he said, the picture of contriteness. “I let my own lust get in the way of giving you pleasure. Please, let me make it up to you.”
He leaned in to kiss me, and I let him. At first he was gentle, but soon he had his arms around me, and he was pressing his lips against mine hard, sticking his tongue in my mouth as his hands roved over my back.
I couldn’t do much because my hands were still cuffed, but I kissed him back as best I could. He spit in his hand and began jerking me as we kissed, and the endorphin rush was terrific—between the nipple clamps and the weights on my ball sac and the feeling of Victor’s lips bruising mine, I was higher than I’d ever been before. And then I exploded in his hand.
“You weren’t supposed to come until the very end!” he said, backing away, careful not to get any come on his leather. “I had a lot more planned for tonight. Now you’ve ruined everything!”
“I’m sorry, Victor. But you’re so sexy.”
“Get out. Now.”
I held up my cuffed hands, and he growled and unlocked them. Then he stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
I stumbled off his bed and to my feet. My whole body sagged once I reached down and unclipped the leather coc
k ring. I undid the strap around my balls and took a deep breath. It was a relief to get that weight off them. Then I unhooked the nipple clamps and pulled the butt plug out of my ass.
I carried it into his kitchen and washed it off in the sink. I figured it was the polite thing to do, and I wanted to make sure he had no reason to complain to Boris about me or my work.
I was still naked. I left the dildo in his dish rack to drain and walked back to the living room. Victor was waiting there for me.
“That’ll do for this evening,” he said. “Put your clothes on and let yourself out.”
I wanted to get out of there as much as he wanted me out. I pulled on my briefs and my jeans, then grabbed my shirt and my shoes and headed for the door.
“Hold on!” Victor barked from the doorway to his bedroom. “You’re not stepping out of this apartment until you are fully clothed.”
Jesus, I thought. I stopped and stepped into my sneakers, then pulled my shirt on. My fingers trembled, and I had trouble with the buttons. The whole time I felt Victor’s eyes lasering into me. As I stopped at the mirror by his front door and ran my fingers through my hair, he said, “I’ll be in touch.”
I opened the door and walked out. While I waited for the elevator, my body shook. My heart raced, and sweat poured down my back. What the hell had happened there? The kinky sex was hot, but it scared me too much, and I was frightened of how much further Victor could take things.
I stumbled into the elevator and pressed the lobby button, then slumped back against the wall. As soon as my ass hit it, though, I bounced forward, yelping in pain.
The time and date were displayed above the elevator panel. I had just enough time to get back home to meet with Julian.
I couldn’t tell him what had happened—I’d be too embarrassed. I’d have to figure out a way to stand up as we worked. Maybe I could say I’d pulled a glute during a gym workout. The elevator door opened at the lobby, and a fresh breeze blew toward me. I realized that I stank of sweat and sex, so I’d have to take a shower before I could meet with Julian.
Whatever. As long as I was done with Victor Kunin, with his app and his weirdness, nothing else mattered.
That is, if I really was done with him. I could think of a dozen ways he’d try to control me, starting with my job at AppWorks. There was no way I was telling Boris I’d been fucking the client. That would end with me getting fucked, and not pleasantly either.
20 – Squirm
My ass burned as I headed home from Victor’s, and every time my briefs chafed against my raw skin, I winced. I had to walk bowlegged, like some cowboy in an old black-and-white movie.
The way things had gotten out of hand at Victor’s had uncomfortable connections to the beatings my brothers gave me when I was kid, and the way I got bullied in high school. Victor wasn’t calling me the Jolly Gay Giant, but it was abusive all the same.
I kept my head down, hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. Purdy Avenue was completely flooded, the few parked cars in water up to their wheel wells. A huge lake stretched from the center of the street right up to the storefronts, and I was so relieved when I got home.
I ran into Julian in the lobby of my building. “Sorry, I’m a bit early,” he said. “Is that okay?”
There went my chance to take a shower. But what was I going to say? “Sure. Come on upstairs with me.” I tried to stay on the other side of the elevator from him, but if he smelled the sex and sweat on me, he didn’t say anything.
I led him to the apartment, then got my laptop from my bedroom. I put it down on the dining room table and then sat down on one of the wooden chairs, beside him. Big mistake. My ass smarted from the contact with the hard wood, and I yelped.
“What’s the matter?” Julian asked.
I stood up, grimacing and struggling not to touch myself. “It’s tender back there.”
“Have you been a naughty boy?” Julian asked, and I couldn’t read his tone. So I didn’t say anything.
When I didn’t answer, he stood up and said, “We’re not going to get anything accomplished if you’re in pain. Let’s go into your bedroom and get you sorted out.”
“Really, it’s okay. I’ll stay standing.”
He shook his head and tugged my hand. “Come with me.”
I could tell he wasn’t going to give up, so I followed him down the hall to my room. We walked inside, and he closed the door behind us. “Take off your pants.”
“Julian...”
“Come on. I’ve been around the block a few times. I’ve seen plenty of dicks, and I’ve seen some butts that have been put through—well, you know. Let me help you.”
I was embarrassed, but I turned my back to him and kicked off my shoes, then dropped my pants and those sexy shorts I’d been so eager to put on earlier that day.
“Dios mío,” Julian said. “This is serious. Do you have any medicinal ointment?”
“I think Gavin might. In his bathroom.”
“Wait here. I’ll be back.”
I felt so stupid standing there like a stork, my long, skinny legs and my reddening butt exposed. I still had my shirt on, but I didn’t want to take it off because then I’d be completely naked in front of Julian.
He returned with a handful of supplies. “Fortunately your roommate has a very well-stocked medicine cabinet,” he said. “You may need to buy him some replacements after we’re done.” He opened a tube of ointment and squeezed some into his palm. “This is going to sting for a minute, but then it will start to feel better.”
I was mortified. He put one hand gently on my right butt cheek, and he was right; it stung. But he was careful to minimize the pain, and I began to feel better. His touch was such a contrast to Victor’s that it made me want to cry.
“You know you don’t need to let someone hurt you like this,” Julian said as he worked. “Sex doesn’t have to be about pain.”
“I know,” I said. “I was stupid. And too horny to listen to my brain.”
The whole story came pouring out as Julian worked on me. I told him about Victor coming to my office, taking me to lunch, and everything that had happened between us. “I don’t even know what he sees in me,” I said. “I’m too tall and dorky. I’m not that handsome, and I can’t make small talk.”
Julian laughed. “You underestimate yourself, Larry. Some men like to be with someone taller. I know I do. It makes me feel—I don’t know, protected somehow.”
Julian’s touch was making me hard again. “You’re so smart and confident and handsome,” I said. “You don’t need anyone to protect you.”
“You don’t know me well enough yet,” Julian said quietly.
I wished I could see his face as we talked, but he was busy cleaning me up, and I couldn’t turn around. “He took advantage of you,” Julian said as he cut some gauze. “You have an inner sweetness, a kind of naïveté, and he exploited it.”
“I’m not naïve,” I protested, even though I knew I was.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He walked over to my bureau. “Do you have any boxers? Loose ones?” He opened the top drawer.
“The black-and-white ones with Mickey Mouse on them are pretty loose.” When he kept looking through the drawer, I said, “They should be right near the top.”
“I have them,” he said. “Just doing some browsing.”
The thought that Julian was looking through my undies was embarrassing but sexy too. “Sometime I’ll have to see you in this,” he said, holding up a leopard-print jockstrap I had bought for a Tarzan-themed party at the Three Lambs. “After you’re feeling better, of course.”
He handed me the boxers, and I slipped into them carefully.
“Feel all right?”
I nodded. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“You’ll probably be more comfortable sleeping on your stomach,” he said. “Why don’t I come back tomorrow? Whatever progress you’ve made can wait until then, and I’ll see how you’re healing.”
&n
bsp; “You can stay,” I said. “I’ll lean over your shoulder—”
“No. You take some vitamins and get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” He turned me sideways and pulled my neck down so he could kiss my cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
Then he walked out.
From the family drama to coming out at work to my situation with Victor and my crush on Julian, I couldn’t put together a coherent thought. I fell asleep quickly, though I woke a couple of times when I accidentally rolled on my back.
Early Sunday morning, I carefully peeled the bandages off my ass. It was marked with angry red stripes, and when I reached back there to touch it, my skin felt like it was on fire.
Julian had used all the ointment the night before, so I put fresh bandages on and went back to my room. It was only about seven, and Gavin and Manny were both still asleep. I carefully slipped on a pair of loose-fitting gym shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops, and I went out to the twenty-four-hour pharmacy a few blocks away.
Was there anything more embarrassing than looking for ass cream after a lousy Saturday night, I wondered? Well, maybe needing an STD remedy. That would be worse.
I was browsing through the medical ointments when Boris appeared at my side, carrying a box of Alka-Seltzer and a bottle of water. “Tough night?” he asked. “I know what you are feeling.”
I wanted to say that he had no idea, but he was my boss. “Yeah. Woke up with a few aches and pains.”
He wore a T-shirt with some kind of Russian saying on it, and nylon warm-up pants, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a while. “This one is good,” he said, pointing to one of the analgesic creams. “See, has antibiotic too.”
I grabbed the tube he suggested and followed him to the cash register. “Why are you out so early?” I asked.
“Couldn’t sleep. Stomach hurt too much.” He handed a twenty-dollar bill to the clerk and got his change. “You must be same.”
“I slept,” I said. “Just woke up with trouble.”
“You are young,” he said, clapping me on the back. At least he hadn’t hit me on the butt, I thought.
