My visitor stepped forward, kicked my legs apart and pushed me back so that I was sitting on my heels. He jabbed my basket with his toe -- fortunately relatively gently -- but still hard enough for me to know that he could easily have me writhing in agony in a second should he so chose. He pulled my head forward, pressing it against his groin. I could feel his hard cock pressing up through his black 501's. The pheromones of his musk coming through the openings of his button fly into my nose as he ground his groin in to my face aroused me.
He chuckled as he pressed with his foot at my rod, now steel hard flat up against my belly and sticking out of the waistband of my briefs. "I see that you are saluting me, fag boy." he sneered.
Damn fuckin' right, Sir, I thought. This stud is after more than just my stereo and VCR. Then a weird thought brought a smile to my face: If rape is inevitable, relax and enjoy it. But how did he know that I was a gay, bondage bottom?
"What the fuck are you smiling about, fag boy? You looking forward to my ramming my MAN ROD down your fag throat and up your fag butt, boy?"
I bowed my head and remained silent. I was sure the less I said, the better. I certainly did not need to encourage him or, worse, make him mad. I hoped that he did not want an answer. He didn't.
He put a half hood over my head and pulled the cloth blindfold off. He laced it tight. I no longer could even see if it was light or dark.
"Open my pants, faggot."
I raised up until my mouth found his belt. I pulled at it with my teeth and got the end free. Then to the side to release the hook thing (what the hell is that called anyway) and separated the ends. The top button was the hardest to undo. The other four opened easily until I had all five open. I took of deep sniff of his crotch and sat back even more aroused. In other circumstances I would have started licking the treats hidden behind the thin cotton cover but not now.
I heard him pulled his belt out of his jeans. He snapped it with a loud crack. Then he let the end fall down on my back. The message was clear. I had better obey or else. I waited.
He pushed my head down to the floor and held it in place with his ankles. I felt the belt again, this time on my butt. Then the belt hit hard on my left butt check and seconds later on the right cheek. He hit hard and I yelped. He gave me three more on each side just as hard.
"Just so that you know, slave." Then the belt came down right in the middle, mercifully gently; right on my crack; right on my ass hole and the tip on my sack. He apparently wanted to be absolutely, positively sure that the message got through. He shifted a bit and barked another order.
"Get my briefs down, boy."
I sat up and leaned forward. I found the waistband and bit down on it. I pulled down and after the band stretched to its limit they started to slip down. It took several tries but soon they were down about his knees. As I was doing this I bumped his rampant man rod several times. He did not complain and I was not going to even if had been safe to do so. I went back to my rest position and awaited further orders. I did not have to wait long.
"Lick my balls, boy." he snapped. I did so and even sucked them into my mouth. Part of me wanted to bite the fucker's balls off but I knew that he would retaliate and certainly do the same to me and then some. I just hoped he was not going to harm me. It is pretty hard to fight when you're handcuffed and totally blinded by a hood. I just hoped I could keep him happy.
Evidentially, I was at least for now, for he told me that I could have the great privilege of sucking his fuck pole. As it happens, I did want to but I really don't think that he was giving me a real choice. I released his balls and took his cock into my mouth. It was rock hard and dripping come. I sucked it up and down; right to left; down and up, and left to right. He was muttering that I was a good cock sucking slave.
Without warning he grabbed hold of my head and adjusted the position so that only the head of his ramrod was in my mouth and held it still. I could feel that he was adjusting his internal plumbing to give me a gift.
As dangerous as this all was I was still rock hard and dripping. He teased my balls with his toe and proclaimed that I seemed quite happy. He make me lean forward so that I was in the kowtow position again with my hands still cuffed behind my back. I heard him remove his clothes. Then he put a steal chain about my neck and I heard the lock snap closing the ring of steel.
"STAND UP!" he commanded. I stood up and he ripped my briefs off. He handled (roughly) my cock (very hard and dripping) and balls (very full). "Not bad -- for a fag slave." he said condescendingly. He wrapped a cock ring around the base of my package and hooked a leash to it.
I wondered if this could be Zeke who had decided to surprise me with a visit rather than call. We had discussed my fantasies including that of being a prisoner. Perhaps one of the other respondents to the ad who had my address. Or is this some sort of rapist homophobe.
"You don't mind a few pictures, slave boy?" he asked mockingly as I heard the click of a camera. I remand silent.
He led me to the kitchen by the leash where he helped himself to a beer. He even offered me one which I declined. Actually, I figured that I already had one that he had brought.
He had me sit in the middle of my bed and started to tie me down. He wrapped rope around each ankle about five times and then tied it to the bed frame. The he pushed me down flat on my back. The handcuffs dug into my back and I reacted to the pain with a yell.
"You better behave yourself when I remove them, Boy."
"Yes, sir." I answered. Not that I could do anything with my legs bound to the bed and hooded.
"Open your mouth, boy." I did and he stuck a rubber ball into it and tied the restraining rope behind my head. Only then did he removed the hand cuffs. I left my hands in place not to anger him. It worked.
"You may rub your wrists, slave." I did so and tried to get the kinks out of my arms.
"Spread-eagle slave." I laid back and extended my arms to the corners of the bed. Again he wrapped his soft rope about each limb and tied me to the bed frame. I was as helpless as I possible could be. I wondered if I could have fought back at the very beginning. I certainly could not now. Would I ever get out of this? What did this burglar really want?
"Can you smile?" he asked. I tried to smile. It did not please him. He started to tickle me. First my feet; then by stomach and under my arms. I could not help myself and started to laugh.
"Oh, that so much better, boy. I like my slaves happy and laughing. Now you just keep thinking happy thoughts boy." I heard him walk out of the room and return a few minutes later.
He sat down on the bed and started to caress me. He began at my toes and worked up to my head. He played with my package quite a bit and tugged at my pubes. He played with my chest in a similar manner. He placed tit clamps on me. Finally, he stroked my face and noted that I needed a shave. I immediately though of the "Demon Barber of Fleet Street". Would I end up in a meat pie? Fortunately, as is obvious from the fact that I wrote this, that was not the case. Then I heard the clipper being turned on. The moustache clipper that I use to trim my sideburns and neck between visits to the barber and keep in the bathroom medicine cabinet. I was going to lose some hair. I guess that should have been obvious from the beginning for everyone knows that neither boys nor slaves have hair; only free men have hair.
He cleared the forests in my armpits first. A mere half dozen passes in each with the clipper removed all traces of the lush growth. Then he clipped my chest -- the only other part of my body to have significant hair beside my pubes. This took longer because the growth was spread out. I would be seeing my bare chest tomorrow (if I lived) for the first time in years.
The cock ring was unsnapped. The clipper pressed just below my navel and started destroying the virgin forest that extended all the way to my asshole and beyond. I felt like a rain forest being leveled. Would I recover? Back and forth the hungry clipper went; clear cutting it all. Everyone in the gym would know. He then proceeded to the rougher terrain about the base down to my balls. He handled everything, pulled the skin taut so that he could get my sack.
I remained rock hard through all this horror. Was I really enjoying it or was it his handling the caused me to rise to the occasion.
He went to the bathroom again and when he returned, I heard a chair being shifted. He untied my ankles and raised my legs up on his shoulders. I could feel him rub some lube on my butt hole. I hoped that he would finger me first before ramming his great shaft in. I certainly could not take it otherwise. He was kind and loosened me up quite a bit and then rammed his shaft deep into me. My yell was stiffed by the ball gag but then he gave me a chance to adjust before fucking me. He was in total control and he pumped vigorously in and out . I knew I was close as he kept hitting my prostate with his shaft. It was enough to cause me to shoot over my check and even splatter my face with my come.
He remained hard and in me. He let my legs drop to the sides and moved up so that my middle was supported by his legs. My freshly clipped pubes were right in his lap. I was hit there with a wet rag and then covered with shaving cream. "You better be very still, boy unless you want to lose more than just hair. I froze as he ran his straight razor over my pubes and package that he had clipped a littler earlier. He was completing the process of turning me into a boy. His hairless, fucked, collared slave boy.
Then he dried me off and finished fucking me, exploding deep in my guts with a huge load that seem to come in a dozen spurts. He then with drew from my butt and removed the ball gag. He had me lick and suck his cock clean.
He tied my legs together above the knee and at the ankles and fasten them to the bed before wrapping some rope about my waist. Then he tied my forearms to the waist rope and lengthen the rope restraining my legs to the bed. He removed the hood and gag. He cuddled up with me holding me tightly like I was his boy.
I soon fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. I felt secure even those I was the captive of a stranger in my own house.
I did not awake until midmorning. I was alone and still bound. I called out but there was not response. Evidentially my captor has left me. In the light that dimly light the room I worked to untie myself. Surprisingly this did not take very long. I realized that I was ok provided that there was not any infection that I picked up from him in the unsafe activities. I made my way to the bathroom and looked at myself. I was hairless as a twelve year old boy and there was a chain locked about my neck. The lock was cheap and I knew that I could remove it easily.
I looked about the place and saw that my stuff had not been ripped of; at least not the usual stuff like the stereo, computer and VCR. The new message light was my answering machine. It was from Zeke telling me that something came up and he would get back to me in a day or two.
Stuck to the refrig was a note:
slaveboy -- Leave the collar on and shave your pubes twice a week if you want to see me again. Don't change your daily routines.
Obediently I left the chain on and kept my pubes shaved as he had ordered for the three weeks before he called me again.
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