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Caged and Contused: Gay BDSM Erotica © October 2012 by G.R. Richards

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Richards

First Edition October 2012

“Fuck in a Truck” originally published by Robinson in Gay Confessions, Volume 4; “The Feel of

Steel” originally published by Torquere Press in Toy Box: Cages; “Webcam Willy” originally

published by Robinson in Gay Erotica, Volume 6; “Daddy Jens” originally published by Cleis

Press in Skater Boys.

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Caged and Contused

Gay BDSM Erotica

By G.R. Richards

Fuck in a Truck

Things have really changed since the 60’s.

Back then, gay men had no rights. If your boss found out you were the dreaded
homosexual, that was it—fired! And you had no recourse. The idea that homosexuality
was evil and wrong was so ingrained most of us accepted our fate. When the lights
went up at whatever bar in the Village you were at, you either snuck out the bathroom
window or let the police lead you into the paddy wagon.

Until Stonewall, Lillian Law had our asses in a sling. There was no freedom, nowhere
to go and be safe, be yourself. For a while, you’d hear about certain public bathrooms
where you might meet other gay men. Well, it wasn’t long before the Pigs went all out
to catch us in the act. They’d build a false wall behind the stalls and stand there,
peering through the cracks, just waiting for us to grab each other’s dicks.

At that time, homosexual activity was illegal in every state except Illinois. Young guys
like me, we’d flock to New York City because we knew we’d find like-minded
individuals. Even there, the police were not our friends. If you were young and living
in New York, you went after every guy you could get your hands on. This was before
AIDS. We’d have had nothing to worry about if it wasn’t for the goddamn Pigs.

I had a pal named Lewis, and we’d both been thrown in the slammer more times than
we could count just for being gay. It was Lewis who told me about the trucks. Gay bars
were getting raided on a weekly basis, the police were entrapping us left, right, and
center, and we were a desperate bunch. When some guys discovered these meat trucks
down by the docks, it was a game-changer.

During the day, the trucks were used for transporting carcasses to processing plants. At
night, they were jam-packed with a different kind of meat: gay men as far as the eye
could see—except that you couldn’t see a thing because it was pitch black inside.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I want to tell you about my first experience in the
trucks, because that’s the one I remember the best. You always remember your first
orgy.

Lewis didn’t tell me what to expect, except that we could go to the trucks and fuck. It
wasn’t until we got there that I realized how many other guys knew about this place. In
the middle of the night, the area was pretty much abandoned. Even though we were in
the city, there weren’t a lot of lights on. You looked around and, across from the meat-
packing plants, you just saw piles of clothes.

The moment I saw those jeans and shirts and underpants, my dick went instantly hard.
Lewis and I were like a couple of kids in a candy store of debauchery. We didn’t know
where to begin. Luckily, Lewis caught sight of some guy he knew, a big burly bear who
acted as a kind of gatekeeper-slash-lookout. The bear pulled us past another truck, and
then another. A few guys were milling around outside, like they were waiting for
instructions.

The bear told us to strip, and then he’d open the transport trailer to let us inside. I don’t
think I’d ever been so hard in my whole fucking life. There was something about that
closed door and the anticipation, the excitement, imagining what was going on in
there… fuck, I was lucky I didn’t cream my jeans before I got them off.

One of the guys asked if his wallet would be safe out here, and everyone else laughed.
The bear told him to shove anything important down his sock, and Lewis said, “Yeah,
someone’s sure to find it if you stick it up your ass.”

We all got naked and stood with our massive erections pointing toward the truck. The
guy who’d asked about his wallet grabbed my dick, and I instinctively smacked his
hand away. He hissed at me, something like, “Better get used to it. What do you
think’s gonna happen in the truck?”

I hadn’t really thought about it. I was used to the bars and the bathrooms, where you
talked to a guy for a while, or at least made eye contact, before he grabbed your dick. It
hadn’t occurred to me that the atmosphere in the trucks would be any different. I was
expecting a tea party… and, man, I was way off base.

The bear opened up the back of that truck just enough for us to slip inside. All I could
see was darkness, and I remember having this moment of childhood fear, like there
were monsters waiting for me in there. Being naked, we guys were fairly ginger about
how we hopped up there, stepping on milk crates and then jumping the rest of the way.

When I ducked inside, it was the smell that hit me first: rotting carcasses, the coppery
scent of old blood, decay, and men. Yes, it smelled like sweat and cum, everything
you’d expect of an orgy in unhygienic surroundings. The heat was unbelievable too. It
had been fairly cool outside, but in the truck it was like a sauna. Right away you felt
like you were dripping with other men’s sweat.

The first thing that happened once I was inside the truck? Somebody smacked my
ass—but not my ass cheek. Somebody very intentionally shoved his hand in my crack,
aiming for my asshole, slathering it with what I can only imagine was vegetable
shortening. That’s what we used as lube in those days. It was cheap and widely
available.

The ass-smacker said, “It’s easier this way,” and I realized this guy was a one-man
welcome party. I guess lubing our assholes right from the start made things run a little
smoother, so to speak.

Just before the bear closed the truck from the outside, my eyes started adjusting to the
darkness a bit. I didn’t see anything but a writhing mass of naked guys. They were up
against the sides of the huge transport truck, filling the entire space, sucking and
fucking and god knows what else. In the dim moonlight, there was only so much I
could make out, but what I could see turned me on so hard I had to close my eyes and
think of baseball.

The moment that truck door slammed shut, a streak of rabid claustrophobia ran
through me. I’d never been so simultaneously frightened and aroused. The
combination of darkness, raw heat and putrefaction got under my skin, and the
writhing motion all around gave me a weird sense of being in the jungle. It was like a
rainforest where the trees, the earth and the animals were all naked men.

I doubt if five seconds went by before someone was groping me. I felt hands on my
arm and my chest, like someone had tripped and was using my body to hinder his fall.
Once he’d found me, he must have liked what he felt, because he moved down my
belly. Those greased-up hands found my dick no problem and pulled me farther into
the mass of men. I was so close to coming it was crazy, but I tried to hold off.

As I moved deeper into the truck, the stench grew more pronounced, but it was the sort
of thing you’re willing to ignore when there are naked men all around you. Someone
else’s hands found my ass, and soon there was a body against my back—a hot, sweaty
chest pressing into me, and a firm cock lodged between my cheeks.

My ass immediately clenched when I thought about some stranger fucking me in the
dark, not even a hello first. And suddenly there was someone sandwiching me between
himself and the guy at my back, finding my mouth with his and crushing it with the
most brutal kiss I’d ever experienced. I won’t say I relaxed at that point, because how
can you relax in a truck full of sweating, naked men? But something in me shifted
during that forceful kiss. I guess I gave myself over to the night.

Someone started whispering in my ear, saying the filthiest things I’d ever heard. It
might have been the guy with his dick lodged in my ass crack, but I wasn’t sure. There
were bodies everywhere, more all the time, and before long I felt like a sardine packed
in man-sweat and oil.

I grabbed hold of somebody’s dick and heard a groan nearby. It was sort of freeing not
knowing who I was jerking off. Could have been Lewis, could have been wallet man,

could have been anybody. I’d always been big on visuals, so maybe the darkness
explained why I didn’t blast off the second some stranger wrapped his lips around my
dick. If I’d seen it happen, I would have come for sure.

My dick was throbbing by the time that guy started blowing me. His mouth was hot.
Everything was hot, but his mouth was hellfire and magma, blazing against my dick.
He sucked me so hard it hurt, but it was a night of extremes as far as I was concerned. I
wanted everything to hurt.

And when that guy behind me shoved his cock up my ass… fuck, my wish came true. I
screamed, and I wasn’t the only one. Despite the shortening slathered across my
asshole, a flash of fire reamed my body, from my ass ring all the way out to my
fingertips.

The guy fucking me growled in my ear. He kept saying things like, “Does that hurt,
faggot?” I thought it was strange that another man in the trucks, a man who obviously
liked fucking men, was calling me names. Back then, and even now, there were gay
men who could compartmentalize so radically that they thought they were somehow
different from the rest of us.

But this guy was just like me, and I could feel it in the way he gripped my neck as he
pounded me from behind. Looking back, that event frightens me more than it did in
the moment. I remember feeling short of breath, feeling dizzy and light-headed, but I
also remember the heightened arousal that went along with that moderate
strangulation.

Somebody was sucking my cock through all of this, and my fat tip pulsed at the back of
his throat. He took me so deep I wished I could see his face. It must have been all red
and straining, but he didn’t even gag, not that I could tell.

I remember getting jabbed in the ribs with a lot of elbows. There were just so many
guys in the truck, and nobody could see anyone else, so they tripped over each other. I
seemed to break a lot of falls. But, on the plus side, I earned a lot of kisses that way. At
one point, there were tongues on both my nipples and another in my mouth. I was lost
in sensation.

The guy fucking me still had both hands wrapped around my neck. I wondered if I’d
have bruises the next day, but I wasn’t too worried. I was so young and so stupid, and
that’s what you do when you’re young and stupid and it’s the 60’s: you have sex in a
meat truck with a hundred strangers.

The guy behind me called me so many names—sissy, faggot, queer—and I don’t know
if he hated himself or if he was being all Alpha Male and trying to provoke a reaction.

In truth, it really turned me on. Maybe my brain was just lacking oxygen or whatever,
but every time he pounded my asshole and grunted, “Do you like it when I fuck you
with my huge monster cock?” I would squeak out yes, yes, yes! Everything felt so dirty
and so raw, especially since we were surrounded by the hot stench of death. I wanted
to come every time he called me a sissy boy or said he was going to ruin my ass.

“You want me to fucking come, Nancy boy?”

He started chanting that in my ear. I could feel the sweat dripping from his chin and
landing on my shoulder. Every time he asked if I wanted him to come, the only answer
my poor deprived brain could come up with was yes, yes, yes!

If I thought he was fucking me before, mother of god, he really laid into me after that.
His hands tightened around my throat and he pummeled me like a machine. Seriously.
He went at me with such force and speed and strength he didn’t even seem human.
That’s when I felt another face between my legs. I don’t know for sure, since I was
being choked at the time and it was pitch black, but I think there was a second guy
sucking my balls. That’s in addition to whoever was sucking my dick.

I was a rag doll in the hands of countless men. They sucked me and fucked me and
kissed me and choked me until I was gasping for breath. The guy at my back was
relentless. He was no tease. He took me and shook me, fucked the life out of me and
cursed me when he came. I could feel when he blasted me full of cream, because his
grip around my neck got even stronger than it had been. He stayed that way for an
eternal moment, and then his hands just fell away.

His spent cock was still in my ass when I went over the edge. On the surface I could
say it was the guys sucking me who got me off, but it wasn’t that simple. The
atmosphere brought me to the brink just as much as those strangers did. You might
think it sounds disgusting, fucking random guys in a dark, smelly truck, but it was the
ultimate freedom.

Even when I was spent and sore, I took another guy up my ass. I was fucked and fisted
like dirty slut that night. I sucked more cocks than I could count. When my dick came
back to life, it found its way into some stranger’s gaping asshole and when I came I
thought I’d fall asleep standing up. The bear kept pushing more and more guys into
the truck, until there was no room to move.

It came as a relief when I heard the cry of “Betty Badge!” from outside the truck.

The door flew open, and there was a stampede to get the hell out. There was nothing as
invigorating as running from the police. Once I’d stumbled out of the truck, I grabbed a
shirt and pants off the ground. They weren’t mine, but who the fuck cared at that

point? By some miracle, Lewis grabbed me by the hand and I clung to him like he was
my life. We took off toward familiar quarters and, I tell you, we didn’t stop running
until we were home.



Webcam Willy

“Hey, man.” The dude onscreen flicked his head back, the way you would if you were
trying to get another guy’s attention across a noisy bar. “You work out?”

“Only if you count walking from here to the fridge as running laps.”

Willy knew when these webcam guys were just making pointless conversation,
grooming him, gearing up to get naked. Even so, he’d wanted this random dude,
screen name BigStudly1 (even though he wasn’t terribly big or remarkably studly), to
hear that he had a sense of humor. BigStudly1 meant nothing to him, but Willy still
wanted the guy to understand that he was a person, he had a personality.
WebcamWilly was a funny-ass dude, and he wanted the men out there to remember
him for his comedic side.

“Hey, do you know the speed limit of sex?” Willy kept talking even as the guy onscreen
slipped out of his jeans. He hadn’t been wearing a shirt to begin with, and his abs were
pretty hot, his nipples pink and pointy. Now he had nothing on but tight blue
underpants. BigStudly1 rubbed the bulge with his whole hand as Willy gulped and
finished his joke. “Speed limit’s 68, right? Because at 69 you have to turn around. Get
it? Turn around?”

“Uh-huh.” Studly tossed his head a little to the side. His words all sounded like little
moans to Willy. “Hey, here’s an idea: how’s about you take off your clothes while
you’re telling me knock-knock jokes?”

Sheepishly, Willy grinned. It was nice to know someone, even a stranger, wanted to see
his skinny body naked. Tearing his T-shirt over his head, he said, “Actually, that
wasn’t a knock-knock joke. Knock-knock jokes are the ones like, ‘Knock-knock. Who’s
there? A panda. A panda who?’”

“Yeah.” The guy made a face as he rubbed his cock, like he was full of pleasure and
ready to burst. “That’s great, man. Want to take off your pants now?”

Willy knew he was easily distracted, didn’t have the greatest attention span in the
world, but he really should have been paying more attention to this nearly naked guy
rubbing his bulge. “Sorry. Yeah.”

He stood up from his wheelie office chair and pushed his track pants down to the floor.
The inside of the material was so downy that he didn’t like to wear anything
underneath. He was a little embarrassed that he was still soft when this dude was
getting a live feed of his naked dick, but after a long day of lectures and labs, it always
took him a while to refocus his energies from school to sex.

“You going to get that dick all good and hard for me?” BigStudly1 asked. His tone was
gritty, rough, and Willy felt somewhat glad they weren’t in the same room together.
Who knew what that dude was capable of? Willy had always been a little bit afraid of
strangers.

But Willy loved the taste of fear. Maybe that’s why he so enjoyed jerking off via
webcam with guys he didn’t know.

“Yeah, sure,” Willy said, hoping he could manage it. He didn’t sit back down in his
chair. His webcam was now picking up only his scrawny twink chest, his starving
student belly, and his long flaccid dick. Suddenly, he didn’t want BigStudly1 to see any
more of him than that. He wanted to be an anonymous torso instead of a funny guy.

Cupping a hand around his balls, he slipped his fingers along his lazy shaft, encircled
the ridge around the tip, teasing there. Sometimes Willy felt like his dick belonged to
someone else, like it wasn’t really a part of him and it didn’t represent who he was in
any way. Why should one organ determine his life’s desires or activities? Wasn’t it
enough just to work hard at school and get good grades to earn a degree? Something
inside him nagged, “No, you need more,” but his body wouldn’t always co-operate.
Maybe this wasn’t the right kind of “more.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Studly said, pulling his dick out the top of his tight blue
underwear, then scooping his nuts out, too. “Yeah, make it big like mine. Make it hard
like mine. That’s right.”

A surge of energy shot through Willy’s core, sparking something, like a bolt of
lightning. He wasn’t sure if his excitement was in reaction to Studly’s words or the
sight of that good-sized dick and those shaved balls. Not that it mattered what the
cause was. When he felt that strange sensation below the belt, he smiled.

God, look at those hard nuts! Willy’s balls were big and bouncy, fun to play with, but he
felt a secret urge to reach through his computer screen and touch Studly’s. They
seemed to clench every time the guy tugged on his dick, so smooth and tight.
Wow…what would they feel like in hand?

Studly encouraged Willy as they stroked their shafts in time with one another. “Yeah,
touch your pecker, man. Touch it for me.”

That gravel voice made Willy a little weak in the knees, but he wouldn’t let himself sit
back in his chair. His thighs strained, and he stared at his computer screen, wishing the
other guy had a faster feed. He could see that Studly was jerking off, but the movement
of his hand on his dick wasn’t much more than a blur.

“Keep talking,” Willy pleaded. “Tell me what to do.”

“Stroke it,” the guy replied without missing a beat. “Tug it. Hard. Is it getting big?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it getting huge?”

“Yeah.” Willy pulled on his dick, reveling in his own erection. The hardness of his shaft
was such a beautiful complement to the softness of his skin, and his hand loved
touching it. Willy loved playing with his body. Other guys liked to play rugby or
soccer or Ultimate Frisbee, but Willy’s favorite piece of sports equipment was his dick.

“Lick your finger,” Studly instructed. He was working his cock like crazy, though Willy
caught only staggered glimpses of it, thanks to the crappy web streaming.

Willy licked his finger.

“Then stick it up your ass.”

Willy nearly fell over when he heard those words. “God, yes!”

He reached back, circling his wet fingertip around that puckered hole, still tugging hard
on his dick. His ass was damn hungry, and shoving stuff in the back door was probably
Willy’s second-favorite pastime. There was nothing better than jerking off in front of
some dude, and forcing all sorts of toys up his butt.

“How’s that?” Studly asked. God, his gritty growls were really starting to turn Willy on.
“That good?”

“Yeah,” Willy groaned.

His asshole was like a little mouth, sucking his finger in. That ring of ass muscle was
damn tight, and it was hotter than hell inside, but he pushed through, kept with it until
his entire index finger was buried to the hilt. Oooh, that felt good. Every time he jerked
on his cock, his ass ring would tighten around his finger, and that added sensation
boosted Willy to new heights of pleasure.

He petted his insides, finding his P-spot and concentrating on it while he toyed with his
hard dick. When he was a little younger that would have made him come for sure.
Now he just held that sensation, savoring it, hoping his knees wouldn’t buckle and send
him plummeting to the floor.

The guy onscreen was slowing down now. He seemed to be watching more, and just
casually stroking his dick with one big hand, squeezing his tight little nuts with the
other. His cockhead was engorged and red, just like Willy’s. Just the sight of it made
Willy want to stick his head through the monitor and take that fat tip between his lips,
tease it a little with his tongue. Yeah, that would be good—taste this stranger’s salty
precum, suck his dick until he started thrusting. Would Willy let a guy like that fuck
his throat, no holds barred?

Hells yeah, for sure. Fuck away, BigStudly1. Fuck my goddamn throat with that big fat cock!

Fuck it so I can’t breathe!

“Fuck yourself with something,” Studly snarled. “Not just fingers. What else have you
got?”

The question tore Willy from his fantasy of sucking that man’s dick, but he didn’t mind
so much, not if it meant fucking himself in front of the guy. God, he loved it when guys
told him what to do. Tearing through the box at the bottom of his bookshelf, Willy
pulled out his realistic dildo and also his slim red vibe.

Holding them up to the webcam, he asked Studly, “Which one?” Willy hated making
decisions on his own. Plus, if Studly made the choice it was like taking orders from a
stranger, and Willy definitely got off on commands.

“The red one,” Studly said, holding up a black dildo for the camera. “Want to watch me
sit on this while you ram yourself with that?”

“Fuck, yeah! Shove it up your ass.” Willy didn’t know how he was still standing at this
point. Studly’s black dildo was goddamn big, with a much greater girth than Willy’s
slim red one.

“You like watching guys get fucked up the ass?” It was almost a sneer, and it made
Willy’s dick slap against his palm.

“Hells yeah!” Willy squeezed his cock. This was so damn hot he could barely stand it.

“You even like watching guys get fucked up the ass with a dildo?” Studly asked, an
obvious taunt, but Willy loved the denigration. It made his insides burn.

“I love watching guys get assfucked by anything.” Willy’s hand shuttled up and down
his erection. God, he’d never been so huge.

“I can’t wait to see you sit on that hot fucking dildo,” the guy said. “I want to see your
asshole swallow that thing up.”

This was getting good. Willy couldn’t believe how soft he’d started out, and how hard
he’d gotten since. He watched the guy slather that fake black dick with lube and then
set it on the chair beneath him. Once it was down there, he really couldn’t see it
anymore because the lighting in Studly’s room was just too dim, but Willy could feel
the guy’s pleasure by the look on his face.

Willy grabbed the lube from his toy box, squirting a big dollop on the head of the vibe
and spreading it all over his asshole before twisting the end to turn the thing on.

“Fuck!” The vibrator buzzed against the tender flesh of his hole. He watched Studly
easing down on the big black cock, both legs up on the chair now like Stud was
straddling some guy. The squint of his eyes as he clutched his dick turned Willy on like
crazy.

So did the vibe.

Stroking his cock with renewed vigor, Willy pressed the contoured end of that buzzing
boy toy into his ass. God, he was tight. He was so damn tight he wondered if his ass
would reject even this relatively skinny vibe. For a moment, he had to stop stroking his
cock and just concentrate on relaxing.

Willy watched Studly on screen as the dude’s ass devoured a big black cock. That did
the trick. His hungry hole swallowed up the first inch, begging for more. Willy
complied, shoving the red devil farther into his asshole, still rubbing his dick with all
his might. That toy was slick with lube, and now that it had forced its way past his ass
ring it moved easily inside his body, hitting all the right places.

Every so often he glanced up at his computer screen to watch Studly jerking off, but at
this point Willy was really more interested in his own pleasure. He squirted a bit of lube
on his palm and stroked himself hot and fast, feeling every eager drizzle of clear pre-
cum against his fingers. It was hard to believe how big he’d gotten, length and girth,
and how red and engorged his cockhead had become. The sight aroused him all over
again. He got caught in a loop of seeing how huge he was and feeling more turned on,
then seeing that arousal expressed physically and getting even more turned on than
before.

“Yeah!” Studly was shouting. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” He was bouncing on his big black
dildo so hard Willy wondered if he’d break his chair. His hand was a blur on his dick,
and though Willy couldn’t see the jizz, there was no doubt in his mind about what was
happening over there.

Willy considered himself a sympathetic orgasmic. If he saw another guy coming, he’d
come, too. There was something about the look on Studly’s face, the way he ground his
teeth and clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyelids closed and yelped, that made
Willy’s balls clench. It was so damn sexy he just couldn’t hold back. His ass cheeks
clamped together so hard they held his lubed vibe in place, and it buzzed like a hive
against his P-spot.

Was it the pure sensation or the combination of factors that brought him to his knees?
And did the reason even matter?

Willy rested his head back on the seat of his chair, gazing up at his computer screen.
The vibrating base of his little red wonder struck the floor, and Willy managed to trap it
in place between his feet. The position was a little awkward, but at this point he was so
damn close that his position didn’t matter. He bounced on the dildo, feeling its
powerful vibrations as his ass ring clenched around it.

“You better fucking come,” Studly growled. If Willy wasn’t much mistaken, the dude
was still spilling his seed all over the damn place. “Come right now, you little shit. I
need to see you fucking come!”

Throwing his weight down on the fake cock, Willy cried out, “Fuck yeah, fuck yeah,”
and pounded his ready cock with his fist. When he came, he came hard. Hot cream
shot up high, splattering in white gushes against the underside of his desk. The spurts
continued, falling short of the desk and landing warm against his thigh.

Letting the red vibe slide from his ass, Willy watched blissful Mr. Studly on screen. He
wondered how long it would take the guy to realize Willy was no longer in the shot—
his webcam obviously couldn’t capture his image when he was on the floor and half
buried beneath his desk. It was a good minute before BigStudly1 squinted and asked,
“Hey, where’d you go?”

Willy crawled up into his office chair and waved, feeling strangely juvenile.

“You come?” the guy asked.

“Yeah.”

Studly exhaled hard, tossing one arm across his forehead. “Me, too.”

Exhaustion spread over Willy like a warm blanket, and he didn’t have the energy for
any more pretense. “Okay,” he said. “Well, thanks, man. See you again, I guess.”

He signed off in a daze, wondering if he’d ever see Studly again. At heart, Willy knew
that when he made a real connection with another guy, it wouldn’t be via webcam.
He’d meet a man at school maybe, or even fall for someone he’d known all his life—
somebody commanding in the bedroom. A true partner to complement him, one who
understood his need to be commanded and reprimanded.

Willy wasn’t totally sure who that man would be, not just yet, but he was convinced the
future was live and in person.



The Feel of Steel

Steel was my reward.

I could see the pride gleaming in Big Boy’s dark coffee eyes. Yes, he scolded me,
chastised me, even punished me when I was naughty—I deserved it then—but he also
encouraged me when I was good. And lately, I’d been very good.

That’s why he suited me up with the stainless steel cock lock. He knew the old plastic
one was uncomfortable. It didn’t fit right. It was just large enough that it let me get
erections, and there were even a few times when old habits turned me on so bad I
ejaculated on my computer chair. That wasn’t supposed to happen. There was no joy
in it, for me.

Big Boy made me clean up after myself. His reactions to my misdeeds were highly
parental. He never got angry when I slipped up. He’d say he was “disappointed with
my behavior,” and he’d take Friday night away from me. He was right to do so. I
didn’t deserve the pleasure.

Big Boy had a good reason for caging my cock. From the time I started working from
home, my dick prevented me from accomplishing anything. My dick, in combination
with the abundance of internet porn, I should say. I’d open a file, stare at the damn
thing for a few minutes, and then open my internet browser and start watching sweet
slave boys sucking off guys in leather harnesses.

I’d reach inside my sweats and pull out my hard cock. I’d tug on it, jerking off until I
came all over the underside of my computer desk. It was a mess down there. Porn was
my compulsion. Work got shifted to the backburner. I’d masturbate the day away, and
have nothing to show for it but my exhaustion. I nearly lost my job.

Until I met Big Boy, I never realized there was such a simple solution to my problem. I
needed to give control of my cock over to somebody else. That was it. That was the
miracle cure.

My cock caused me nothing but trouble, so I put it in Big Boy’s firm but fair hands. He
put me in my plastic cage and my problem was solved. Nearly. I could still click onto
my favourite websites. Sure, I couldn’t masturbate the way I used to, but as I said
before, the old cock cage wasn’t a perfect fit. It allowed me to get a little hard. If the
scene on screen involved leather and three or more guys, I would lose it. I tried not to,
because my cock wasn’t mine anymore. I’d transferred ownership of my erections and

ejaculations to Big Boy. I’d agreed only to experience orgasms with him, and only
when he said it was all right.

When I snuck a finger up my ass because my cock was locked up tight, I was defying
his rules. This was bad behavior. I’d be overcome with guilt as I pulled a dildo and
some lube from the cupboard. I’d place it on my computer chair, sit down, and milk it
with my ass ring. Inside that ugly old cock cage, my dick would grow fat. It would
threaten to burst the plastic chastity device that failed to keep me from getting myself
off. When I was lucky, I came with great gusto.

When I didn’t come, it was blue balls for a week. I always confessed my sins to Big Boy.
He was, after all, the keeper of my cock. He deserved to know what it had done all day.
I knew I shouldn’t defy Big Boy, but it was a compulsion. The porn, the will to
orgasm…I wanted pleasure, I wanted instant gratification. I didn’t want to wait. I was
Big Boy’s wayward puppy. He tried to housebreak me, but I acted on impulse. I wasn’t
obedient. I wasn’t well-behaved. Poor Big Boy. I was such a bother to him, back then.

It took time, but Big Boy succeeded. He trained me to save my orgasms for him.
Cheating with myself—and with internet porn—was still cheating, and that brand of
disobedience would never be tolerated.

To celebrate my newfound virtue, Big Boy brought home the stainless steel cock lock.
“I’ve heard good things,” he told me. “It wasn’t cheap, but it should be very
comfortable. You won’t have to worry about getting hard.”

It was a Friday when he unpackaged my new chastity device at our dining room table,
setting the gleaming metal sheath against wood almost as deep brown as his skin. On
Friday nights, Big Boy set me free. He never said so, but I knew he derived pleasure
from bringing me to orgasm. After a week in captivity, my cock was always desperate
to show him how big it could grow in his hands. My erection was his baby. He created
it out of the nothingness that was my flesh and blood.

That’s what had taken me so long to learn: any erection of mine that was not Big Boy’s
creation was a bastard child. The only virtuous erections were those he brought into
existence with his sheer force of will. It was chemistry and magic.

“Come over here,” he said. He sat in a wooden chair by the table. “Come take a look at
your new home.” He was talking to my dick. It had its own will—he’d convinced me
of that. Like an animal, my cock would get out of control if he didn’t cage it.

I approached from the far side of the room, walking slowly. The table could just as
easily have been loaded up with diamonds and gold. I was in awe.

“Thank you,” I said, though I’d thanked him many times already.

“You deserve it. You’ve been very well-behaved these past few months.” Big Boy
spoke in long, drawn out words when he was pleased with me. “It’s handmade.”

“I love it,” I said, still savoring his paceless, almost drawled speech. It was so much
more pleasant than the curt snips he issues when he scolded me. “Let’s hope it fits.”

I stared at the pieces of metal that made up the new home for my cock. The sheath-like
tube was the most beautiful piece of artistry I’d ever owned. It was a cock unto itself—a
long, curved, gleaming piece of steel. Steel. Of course it would fit. It looked like a steel
replica of my own penis, complete with a piss slit at the base. It was gorgeous.

But the cage was comprised of more than just that one piece. The artful chastity cage
had an anchoring device inside the tube so I wouldn’t be able to pull my cock out once
it was locked up.

At a pace as slow as his speech, Big Boy laid out three metal cock rings against the dark
wood. The only factor that differed from one to the next was size: a small, a medium,
and a large steel cock ring, and all gleamed with the varied colors of the overhanging
chandelier. Like the steel tube, the rings were breathtaking in their artistry. I would
only need the medium-sized one, I suspected.

This new device went leaps and bounds beyond my old plastic cage. It looked like the
cock ring would attach to the penis-shaped steel tube by a small rod. The rod had a
little hole in it that fit into a pin on the cock ring. There was also a square pin that fit
through the square opening at the top of the shaft tube. That little device would keep
my metal cage from twisting and turning while I wore it.

The cock lock was both complicated and deceptively simple. My heart palpitated when
I envisioned the shining piece between my legs. It was like a suit of armor for my penis.
Of course, Big Boy had taken possession of my cock long ago. Although the mass of
flesh between my legs was no longer mine to have and to hold, I still took pride in the
image of my dick cloaked in gleaming steel.

“Will it be cold, do you think?” I reached out to touch it and Big Boy only smiled, so I
took the metal sheath in my hand. “It is cold.” I held it to my face. “And smooth.”

Big Boy pushed out the chair next to his with the toe of his tan sock. He wore khakis on
Fridays. Big Boy always wore suits to work during the week. On casual day, he could
never bring himself to dress down much. He always said, “Nobody in their right mind
would to entrust their investments to a black guy in jeans and a sweatshirt.”

I took the chair as an invitation, and sat down beside him to stare at the gleaming hunk
of metal in my palm. It looked heavy, but it wasn’t. It looked like silver, but it wasn’t
that either.

“Put it between your legs,” Big Boy said. “Or in your armpit. That’ll warm it up. I
don’t want your cowardly dick shrinking away when I fit you with it.”

Big Boy was always thoroughly reasonable. He made sound decisions. That’s why I
trusted him with my cock. If other people trusted him with their millions, the least I
could give him was power over my lowly penis. As instructed, I set my new armor in
the hot spot between my thighs and closed them up tight to let the metal warm up.

“Thank you,” I said yet again.

Big Boy smiled, but said nothing. I didn’t mind that. I could have lived in the affection
of his smile. It warmed my body as my body warmed my cock tube. Big Boy wasn’t
harsh with his prisoner, and despite the impression I might have given, he wasn’t
interested in controlling every aspect of my being. My cock called him Master. Not me.
He didn’t have power over my whole life, just over my wood.

“Friday night,” Big Boy said. I knew what that meant. “Time for release.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Who wanted it more: him or me? Or my cock with
a mind of its own?

Taking the metal shaft tube from between my hot thighs, I placed it on the table
alongside the three cock rings. I stood briefly to shift out of my pants and underwear,
and then sat again on the wooden chair with my legs wide apart. Big Boy nodded. The
devilish glint in his eye told me he was impressed.

I didn’t need to wait for Big Boy to bark instructions at me. By now, I knew the ropes.

The key was on a chain he wore around his neck. When he was at work during the day,
I had no hope of accessing my dick. I’d given everything over to Big Boy. Now he
unbuttoned his crisp cotton shirt and pulled it off his wide chocolate shoulders to hang
neatly over the back of his chair. His gold chain shimmered under the chandelier.
Nothing looked so good as gold against his dark skin. Nothing would look better than
steel against mine. Though I knew I was getting ahead of myself, I drooled for the new
cock cage.

Cupping my balls in his strong hand, Big Boy leaned in close. He pushed the key inside
the little lock at the top of the ugly plastic cock cage I’d never have to wear again. The
metallic clink of the latch popping open made my heart race. He brought the lock out

from the little hole where it secured my clear plastic cock cage to its matching ring. He
took off the old enclosure, detaching it from the adjoining pieces.

As Big Boy removed the components, I suppressed the urge to get immediately hard.
Big Boy might have allowed it, but I wanted to show him I could exercise self-control.
After all, I’d given my erections over to him. It was up to Big Boy to determine when I
could get hard, and he hadn’t even touched my body yet. At least, not purposefully.

When he took off the cock ring, I was free. I was completely uninhibited. I was naked,
out in the open. The palm of Big Boy’s hand supported my balls, and he stared down at
them. I looked into his face, but his gaze didn’t break from my flaccid dick. Was he
trying to make it hard with his eyes? I couldn’t tell.

Big Boy folded his fingers around my cock, and I struggled internally to keep it soft. I
knew I couldn’t manage. My whole pelvis was warm and tingling, with sensation
centralized in my balls. His firm fingers encircled my dick. He stood from his chair
and brought me with him. I knew what would happen next. The same thing always
happened after he’d removed my cock cage on Friday evenings.

“Come on,” he said, tugging me from the dining room by my growing shaft. “Let’s get
you cleaned up.”

It was time for my shower.

Since I was already naked, I stood outside the tub and ran warm water while Big Boy
stripped out of his khakis. Pulling aside the shower curtain, he tugged me into the
stream of steam by my unyielding erection. When the shower water ricocheted off Big
Boy’s chest and struck mine, I felt oddly debased. He pulled me closer. The fresh water
from overhead flowed down my skin, and I felt cleansed.

As the keeper of my cock, Big Boy took care of it as much as he punished it. Grabbing a
bottle of mild body wash from the tub ledge, Big Boy lathered up a dab before taking
my erection between his big, soapy hands. My body pulsed under his knowing touch.

“This hard-on is mine,” he said.

“I know it is, Big Boy. They’re all yours now. I don’t want an erection if you don’t
create it.”

Big Boy smiled like a wise Master. “I’m very proud of you,” he said with a paternal
nod. “You’ve come a long way in a short span of time.” He stroked my soapy cock with
both hands, teasing it and making it bigger. Big Boy was everything to me—lover and
friend, father and brother.

Already, I could sense weakness in my knees. I knew I’d have to stand until Big Boy let
me come, but the idea of staying upright all the while made me nervous. I wasn’t sure I
could last.

Washing the suds from my dick, Big Boy pulled me close to his hard chest and swung
me around so the shower pelted my back. He controlled my cock, and my cock
controlled me, so in a roundabout way, he was Master of my whole self. I wasn’t sure if
he realized that, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

As much as he had power over my cock, he worshipped it too. Maybe that’s why he
wanted all my erections to himself. Maybe that’s why he locked it up and let the
tension build throughout the workweek, until he could focus all his energy on the give
and take.

Sinking to his knees on the tub floor, Big Boy wrapped his full lips around my
cockhead. It took all the control I could muster to keep myself from releasing a week’s
load on his tongue. I wanted to dig my fingers into something, but his shaved head
presented nothing to latch on to. I couldn’t very well grab the tiles. I had to satisfy
myself with placing my hands on Big Boy’s huge shoulders as he moved his face closer
to my pelvis.

My shaft looked pale compared to his dark pink lips. His mouth mesmerized me so
much I didn’t see it coming when he wrapped a powerful arm around my ass. He took
my erection in hand and moved his head back and forth in swift repetition.

As I watched his face fly and his fist jerk my cock, I recognized his mercy. He would let
me come soon. He wanted to get me off quick, and I knew exactly why: he wanted to
suit me up. He wanted to see what I’d look like inside the steel cock lock. Otherwise,
he would have gone for the slow seduction, the long drawn out fuck, and the extended
putting off of orgasm.

Not this Friday. This time, he sucked me like a banshee. He pounded my erection with
his fist as the hot shower pummeled my back. I trembled. My thighs shook, and I
knew from the whining sounds his throat made that he wanted me to come. Even so, I
had to wait for explicit instruction.

Big Boy let my surging cock fall from his mouth. In a whirlwind of motion, he rose to
his feet and turned me sharply so the steamy water struck my front. His hard chest met
my wet back, and I could feel his monster cock lodge itself upright in my crack. When
he writhed in the cleave of my cheeks, I wanted so badly to feel his big black shaft tear
into my asshole. But it wasn’t my place to ask. It was all up to Big Boy.

He was so close behind me now I could hardly perceive the separation between his
body and mine. When he took my erection in hand, we became a mass of hard,
writhing pleasure. He was a tease to fuck my ass crack without getting inside me, but
the dexterity with which he pumped my cock compensated for the sweet torment.

Hot water fell hard against my front, splashing and spurting against the white tiles as
Big Boy jerked me off. I nearly fainted at the enormity of sensation.

My groin pulsed in anticipation as Big Boy placed his soft lips against my ear and said,
“Come.”

I wouldn’t make him wait. My cock was his. He controlled it. When he told it to come,
it came. No argument. After a week of restraint, there was no holding back. The jizz
seemed to rise up from my toes and through my thighs in transit to my dick. His fist
raced against my shaft, urging hot cream up and out of my cockhead.

My load flew past the downpour to splash against the shining tile, white on white. Big
Boy didn’t stop throttling me. As his fist raced against my cock, my come surged.
Every spurt of jizz travelled a shorter distance than the one before it, but my dick
seemed endlessly explosive. I thought I would never stop coming.

Big Boy held tight to my shaft. He locked it in his fist as he writhed against my
backside. His body was so close to mine, he felt like an integral part of me. Big Boy was
a part of me. He knew me better than anyone and, as he pumped his erection between
my ass cheeks, I knew he was about to come too.

With his hard chest flush to my back, Big Boy held completely still. I didn’t move
either, except to tighten up my ass cheeks around his big cock, and then release, tighten,
release. He didn’t make any noise that I could hear over the raging shower, but he held
me inescapably close as a thick stream of hot come shot up my back. His cream felt
incredible against my skin, and his body pressed so close against my back that even the
shower water couldn’t wash it away just yet.

We stayed in that position, Big Boy’s arms wrapped around me, streams of sparkling
water pelting my chest, until the warmth turned tepid and my toes went pruney. Big
Boy washed the cum from our skin and our tub tiles before I turned off the flow.

When we stepped out of the shower, he wrapped me in a plush tan bath towel and took
the greatest care in drying my spent cock. He always dried me like that because he was
convinced I’d take advantage of myself, given the slightest opportunity. It’s possible he
was right, but I’d never find out the definitive answer. My cock was only ever set free
in his presence.

Big Boy slipped on his silk dressing gown, but kept me naked as he brought me back to
the dining room. The cock lock waited. When I glanced at the old plastic cage, a feeling
like shadenfreude glowed through my chest. If everything worked out with the gorgeous
piece of steel, I’d never have to wear that ugly fucker again! Unless, of course, I
misbehaved and Big Boy had to punish me with it.

He sat down and I followed suit, moving my ass as close to the edge of my chair as I
could without falling off. Taking the medium-sized metal ring from the table, he fit it
behind my balls and around the base of my cock. His clean, hot hands on my flesh
aroused my mind and my heart, but my dick did not respond. Good thing. A hard-on
would never fit inside that beautiful steel tube, and I was desperate to feel it hugging
my dick.

The next step was new to me: Big Boy picked up a thin steel rod with a rubber noose at
the end and fit the steel into the hole at the top of my metal cock ring. When that was
secure, he fit the rubber noose behind the head of my dick.

“This holds your cock against the end of the tube,” Big Boy explained. “It’ll keep you
from pulling out once you’re locked up.” It was a little like having my meat on the
rack, but it didn’t hurt. Anyway, I was a willing victim of Big Boy’s torture device.

With the steel tube between his hands, Big Boy held his palms before me like he wanted
me to blow on a set of dice. I blew on the cock lock.

“It isn’t cold,” Big Boy said. “It’s room temperature.”

Holding my penis by the base, he brought the steel tube to my tip and slid it on with the
greatest of care. Steel hugged me from every angle. The cock lock was a perfect fit, and
Big Boy was right: the metal wasn’t cold in the least. This was the sensation I’d always
wanted with the old cock cage. It held me tight. When Big Boy locked me up, the metal
sheath gripped me all around. The steel shaft might have been cast from my own
cock—that’s how well it fit.

I stood to see my reflection in the darkened window at the side of the house. My skin
looked pale from head to toe, with the singular exception of my shining steel dick. I
looked like a superhero, or a super-villain, or maybe a bionic man. A surge of
adrenaline coupled with lust launched through my veins. I’d never been so turned by
my own image, but my cock didn’t stand a chance. The metal sheath hugged it so tight
it had no room for erection. My meat was trapped in its artful casing. It couldn’t
budge.

“Well?” I asked Big Boy as I strut around the room for his viewing pleasure. “What do
you think?”

Big Boy wasn’t often rendered speechless, but I could tell from the glazed-over look in
his eyes and the slight part between his mute pink lips that his mind had turned to lust.
A sudden flash came across his round face. Desire ignited in his eyes. His left foot
tapped against the hardwood floor. His fingertips rapped on the dark brown table. His
big body was a mass of indecision beneath his silk dressing gown. He’d only just suited
me up in my gleaming metal armor, and already he wanted to unlock me. We’d been
together long enough that I recognized his whims.

My dick was locked up tight with no room to grow, but I wondered how long it would
be before lust got the better of Big Boy. The choice was entirely his. My cock belonged
to him.



Daddy Jens

The little bastards didn’t even ring the doorbell. They just walked right in like they
owned the fucking place. Maybe it was Jens’s own fault for leaving the door unlocked,
but Soren never seemed to remember his key. He tried to ignore the ruckus, but when
eight little wheels rolled across the kitchen floor overhead, that was the last straw.

Setting down his weights, Jens wiped his bare chest before tossing the towel on the
padded bench. He’d never trusted Cooper and Logan. The day Soren brought them
home after school in tenth grade, he went out and bought a wall safe. Four years later,
they were still a pair of social rejects dragging his son into the gutter. Jens trusted them
even less now than he had then. They’d probably come over to steal his new TV. He’d
have to go up and tell them to leave.

When Jens set foot on the bottom step of the basement staircase, the door at the top
swung open. The little punks’ lanky figures loomed like elongated shadows. For a split
second, their mischievous grins were replaced by the shamefaced expressions of
children caught smoking in the boy’s room. They obviously weren’t expecting Jens to
be home. Their thick-lashed eyes grew wide, but they recovered quickly.

“Hey, Daddy Jens,” one of them laughed.

Jens had never looked at either closely enough to know who was Cooper and who was
Logan. And, in fact, now that he observed them one by one, he didn’t find many
distinguishing features. Both wore short sleeves over long sleeves, torn and baggy
denim shorts, and those same ridiculously wide shoes Soren insisted on buying. Light
hair. Dark roots. They could almost be twins. Except one was more upright, one a
little more slouched. One had an unobtrusive little nose, the other’s bird-like.

“My son isn’t home,” Jens said. He was long past the point of hiding the irritation in
his voice. Why did Soren hang around with such idiots?

Lacking any capacity to comprehend subtlety, the boys didn’t leave. Instead, they
thumped down the wooden stairs in their thick-soled shoes. Jens held off resuming
their “discussion” until they were on equal footing—literally—on the same floor of the
house. He could hardly instruct them to leave if they were looming high above him.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he felt more at ease barking instructions.
They were roughly his height, but his bare muscled arms and chest gave him great
confidence. “Soren has classes at the university all day.”

“Poor Sore,” replied the one in the filthy white T-shirt with an evil koi fish silk-screened
across the front. When he shook his head, his hair flopped about. “Wasting away in a
classroom.”

Jens’s jaw locked in response to the smirks plastered across their pink lips. He had to
be grateful their degeneracy hadn’t rubbed off too much on Soren. “At least my son has
a future, unlike you layabouts. You have no jobs, no willpower. You lazy little assholes
can’t even help out your poor mothers with expenses. What kind of sons are you?”

The two boys looked at each other and cracked up. Their laughter mocked him
deliberately. The one in the blue shirt—the one with the bird nose—said, “Hey old
man, say Ikea.”

They were too stupid to come up with any real affront, and instead relied on making
fun of his accent.

“Fuck you,” Jens replied, more irritated than angry. These children didn’t respond to
anger anyway. Nothing frightened them because they were still too young to have any
true sense of mortality. “You come into my house and insult me? I should box your
ears, you little punks.”

In hysterics, the one in white laughed, “Did you hear that? He called us punks!”

“Do we look like punks? We’re sk8ers, old man,” the other joined in. “That’s sk8ers
with an eight.”

“You’re idiots is what you are,” Jens replied, embarrassed to resort to childish name-
calling.

The boys obviously had no aversion to it, because one shot back, “You’re gay is what
you are.”

Jens gritted his teeth until the enamel just about turned to chalk. “Yes, and isn’t that
why you little cocksuckers spend so much time in my basement?”

For a moment, no response. Their soft-skinned faces fell blank as they shot furtive
looks one at the other. Finally, when they seemed to realize they were taking too long
to respond, they spewed their stupid laughter.

“Oh yeah,” the one in blue cackled. He leaned against the other boy to keep from
falling over. “It has nothing to do with the kick-ass TV down here. We just want to eat
your old-man balls.”

Jens could see his expression reflected in the big black screen. He was a good-looking
man for his age. Many agreed. He watched his face in the TV. His smirk seemed
almost cruel, but these little punks deserved it. “Yes, I’ve seen you watch TV down
here. You turn the damn thing on and then spend an hour with your eyes glued to the
muscle-god working out across the way.”

The boys glanced at one another. Their laughter seemed to grow more cautious.

“A muscle-god?” the guy in white asked. His mannerisms reminded Jens of a young
chimpanzee. His arms seemed to swing from his shoulders and dangle at his sides.
“Who, you?”

When they both swallowed hard, he knew he’d hit a nerve.

“Right,” the one in blue said. He seemed more like a giraffe. “Cause we’re just dying to
blow some old guy’s shriveled-up dick.”

He was really getting to them. “You want to see a shriveled old guy dick?” Jens asked,
almost without emotion. Why was he letting them sucker him into such a ridiculous
argument? Was it because every accusation came a little bit closer to the truth? Either way,
he couldn’t seem to stop himself from dropping his workout shorts and kicking them
across the room.

The boys stared down at Jens’ cock and he placed his fists on his hips like a carnival
strongman. His toned and tanned body turned heads everywhere he went. Why
wouldn’t they want him?

“From your silence, I gather you weren’t anticipating anything so massive,” he began.
Their mouths hung open, but they made no response. “Perhaps you are both so quiet
because you’re having second thoughts about swallowing my cock. You’re thinking to
yourselves, It’s far too big. I’ll choke if that monster comes anywhere near my mouth.”

The boy in the white top froze while his friend collapsed against the arm of Jens’s
leather sofa. If they weren’t planning on leaving, the least they could do was get him
off. He wouldn’t normally go for his son’s ingrate friends, but if they hadn’t run away
yet, they would obviously go for him.

“And it’s true,” Jens went on. “If I fucked your throats, you would gag until you
hurled.”

The boys said nothing, only stared up at him. Their eyes were shining and huge. They
both seemed far smaller than they had when they loomed over him on the stairs.

“But you are young, and so I’ll have mercy on you. Rather than shoving my cock so far
down your necks you have to breathe out of your filthy noses, I’ll let one of you work
the tip while the other licks my shaft. Who prefers the taste of precum?”

Even through the stunned looks on their faces, they wasted no time in pointing at the
other. “He does.” They both turned to the other and said, “Fuck you, man.”

Jens rolled his eyes. “Fuck you both. What was I thinking? You’re a couple of insolent
children, that’s what you are.”

As he turned to head back to his weight room, one of the boys cried, “Hold up, old
man.”

Jens spun on his heels, but said nothing.

The blue boy went on, “You think we’re afraid of your dick? I’m not. I could
deepthroat that motherfucker.”

The boy’s outburst seemed fragile and easily repealed. These friends of Soren’s acted
tough, but when push came to shove they’d certainly go belly-up. Chuckling to
himself, Jens took his soft meat in his palm. He ran his hand along the monster from
base to tip. Like a magician’s wand, it went from soft to rock-solid in an instant.

“See?” Jens said to the boys. “That’s what happens when you get it angry. You still
think you could deepthroat that motherfucker? Or are you just one more little punk whose
eyes are bigger than his mouth?”

Blue boy leaned back, apparently forgetting he was sitting on an armrest, and fell to the
couch with his ass sky-high. The sk8er in the white top laughed, but it was Jens who
said, “Ah, I think your friend is presenting. He is so anxious to get his tight little pussy
hole fucked, he is sticking his ass in my face.”

Retrieving his shallow sense of humor, the boy on the couch shot back, “Yeah, you’d
like to shove your face in my ass, wouldn’t you old man?”

Jens replied with a smirk. He wasted no time turning to the boy in white. “Which one
are you, Cooper or Logan?”

“Umm…Cooper?” he began, with that rising intonation characteristic of his generation.
The boy’s brow rose slightly. He seemed almost hurt. “Dude, I’ve been friends with
Soren for like five years.”

The other boy—Logan—leaned back on his elbows with his pink lips ajar. Were they
awaiting instruction? It seemed, in some strange way, like the boys looked up to him.
Ridiculous! With a shrug, he replied, “Until this moment, you’ve not been worth
knowing. Now please make yourself useful and remove your boyfriend’s ridiculous
shorts.”

Jens would introduce them to a new brand of denigration. They thought they were hot
shots, hassling pedestrians on their stupid skateboards. He would never allow himself
to feel dominated by a pair of post-adolescent assholes. Jens would take their immature
longings and make them feel three inches tall. He knew how to make a boy feel like a
dirty, skanky little whore. These children needed to be taken down a notch.

When Jens returned from his bathroom, Logan’s shorts were strewn across the coffee
table. His stupid shoes were still on his feet. “Dude, are you seriously going to let
Soren’s dad fuck your ass?” Cooper asked him before spinning around to catch the
smile on Jens’ lips—and notice the condoms, lube, and scissors in his hands.

Logan’s cock stood at attention, straight up like the needle on a sundial. Jens gazed at it
with a sense of sunny pleasure, as though it were a carnival ride. “There’s something
very refreshing about you young people and your uncut cocks,” he mused as Logan’s
pulled slowly on his arrow-straight rod.

With a gasp that was almost a shriek, Cooper looked at the scissors. They glinted in the
low light straining from the weights room. “Dude, what the fuck? When did Soren’s
basement become ye olde circumcision shoppe?”

Logan looked up with alarm as Jens glanced down and laughed. “You boys really are
ridiculous.” Tossing most of the condoms and lube on the table behind the couch, he
opened one packet and sliced the safe clean through the middle. To the panic-stricken
Cooper, he said, “Your friend expressed some interest in having his ass eaten. Do you
think I would get anywhere near that putrid shithole without protection?” He felt ten
times stronger as he degraded the boy.

And still the idiots teased him.

Cooper chuckled like an idiot as he fell into a leather chair. “Putrid shithole,” he
repeated, mocking Jens’s accent. “Logan, Soren’s dad is going to lick your putrid
shithole.”

“I know,” Logan said, gasping as Jens set the latex in his crack. He urged his ass up
toward Jens, throwing one foot in a thick-soled shoe across the back of the couch. That
low light flickered in his keen gaze. “Maybe if you’re a good little sk8er boy, he’ll do
you next.”

Logan was coming along nicely, but it seemed he’d have to be a little harder on Cooper.
Shaking his head, Jens interrupted, “Maybe if you little punks don’t keep your mouths
shut, you’ll have to do each other.”

But who was he kidding? He couldn’t resist the Logan’s baby-soft ass. Jens sunk to ass-
level, ignoring the boy in the black leather chair as he giggled like a mocking little
chimp bastard. “He called us punks again.”

As Jens planted his face between those firm white cheeks, Logan hissed, “Shut up! If I
don’t get rimmed by this geezer I’m going to fucking break your board.”

Jens inhaled sharply at the classification. Any little hipster punk skater—or whatever
these kids called themselves—should consider himself lucky to get serviced by a
vintage muscle-god. These kids thought they were above the gods. Jens gritted his
teeth. It was his turn to degrade the bottom.

Though it was utter bullshit, Jens said, “Puh! Do you nasty children never clean
yourselves? When was the last time you took a shower?”

Logan was hurt. Jens could see it in his tender eyes. But he recovered quickly. “Ten
years ago,” he shot back. “I remember because it was the same day you last got laid.”

Jens considered him harshly at first, but his expression softened as the boy’s laughter
became less mocking and more jocular.

Geezer.

“What a bizarre coincidence,” Jens replied with a smirk. Spare the rod and spoil the child.
To dominate, Jens handed out a good tongue-lashing. “It’s no wonder you stink to high
heaven. I wouldn’t come anywhere near you without this latex barrier to keep the taste
of your ass from my mouth.”

With a thumb holding down each end of the sliced condom, Jens let his tongue loose on
the boy’s tight asshole. If he had more hands, he’d jerk the kid off—hell, he’d jerk
himself off—but the best he could manage was to ensnare Logan’s balls in his hand.
When he squeezed, Logan groaned. He thrust his hips up hard, inviting Jens’
outstretched tongue inside his hole. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, ass-fucking
the boy with his tongue through a condom, but Jens went at it because it sent him
flying.

Logan wrapped a fist around his cock and Jens squeezed his balls. Their fingers
smacked against each other. He plunged his face into the skater boy’s ass again and

again, feeling that tight pressure on his tongue with every stab. Logan writhed and
groaned under the assault. As much as Jens got off on watching the boy squirm with
arousal, he wanted to put his cock in something warm before he busted a nut just
tongue-fucking the kid.

When Jens rose to his feet, the boy in the leather chair caught his eye. Still fully dressed,
he rubbed his cock through the dark fabric of his ripped skate shorts. The reaction was
delayed, but when Cooper caught sight of Jens standing between Logan’s open legs, he
called out, “Dude, he’s going to stick it up in you!”

Logan threw his weight onto his elbows and his ass fell down onto the leather couch.
The panic-stricken look on his face made Jens laugh. Put a fat cock in front of these little

pussies and they don’t know what to do.
“Jesus!” Logan’s voice cracked as he shouted. “You’ll fucking tear me open, old man.”

“Oh, relax,” Jens scoffed, wrapping his fist around the base of his cock. The boys
watched, hypnotized, as he pumped it slowly. “You, Logan. You wanted a rim job,
you got your rim job. It’s only fair you should service me now.”

“I know, man,” the kid in blue replied. “But, seriously, you’ll fucking rip me in half
with that motherfucker. I can’t take it up the ass.”

Shaking his head, Jens offered a low chuckle. “If you have nothing useful to say, would
you please wrap your lips around my cock?”

For a long moment, Logan made no move. He simply stared at Jens with an absent
expression, his mouth hanging slightly open. Jens tapped his drooling monster against
the armrest like a dog trainer summoning his prize poodle up on the podium.

Cooper surprised him. “What should I do?” He sat in the leather chair rubbing his
prick in wide circles with his flat palm. In his puppy dog eyes, Jens saw that all the
little dipshit needed was some direction in life. Young people required instruction or
their energies became unfocused and devoted to life’s stupidities.

“If your friend will get his pretty little head over here and take my tip in his mouth, you
can get on your knees and tongue my shaft.”

Cooper tore his layered shirts off before dropping to the floor. Jens was surprised to see
how built his chest was. They both seemed so scrawny, at first glance.

Logan turned around on the couch so his face was where his ass had been. Without
another word, he licked Jens’s piss hole.

“What are you doing?” Jens hissed at Logan as Cooper wrapped that smart mouth
around his fat meat. When the shirtless wonder grabbed his low-hanging balls, he
moaned at the exquisiteness of the sensation. Lunging toward Logan, he said, “Follow
your friend’s good example. Suck it, will you?”

Logan responded in action. He reached for Jens’s firm ass and struggled to swallow as
much cock as he could. It was difficult for these young and largely inexperienced boys
to man-handle such a large slab of meat, but they were trying. That’s what really
mattered. And, in fact, Jens couldn’t deny how good it felt when Logan ran a hand
down his thigh and sucked his knob like a mango pit. Cooper did his part too, running
his hot tongue across Jens’s shaft.

“Fuck, I need to sit down,” Jens admitted when his knees began to shake. “Cooper, you
give good head. I want you working my cock. Logan, you don’t know what the fuck
you’re doing. Let your friend sit on your face until you learn.”

He expected Logan to fight back—he’d been deliberately cruel to provoke the boy’s
passion—but he only shifted off the couch as Jens collapsed onto it. Like a perfect sub,
he laid down flat on the floor. With half his body buried under the glass-top coffee
table, he opened his mouth. But Cooper didn’t budge.

“Get over here,” Jens instructed. “This cock isn’t going to suck itself.”

“I’ll do it,” said the boy on the floor.

Jens placed a foot on Logan’s shoulder to keep him in place. “No you won’t. You had
your chance and I wasn’t impressed.”

Cooper pulled himself up off the ground and dropped his short with visible reluctance.
When his boxers fell to the floor, Jens could see why. He had an itty bitty little pecker
hidden under there, and it wasn’t even hard yet.

“Come on,” he encouraged the boy. “Put your dick in your friend’s mouth while you
blow me.”

Logan swallowed his friend’s meat—balls and all—as Cooper took Jens’s thick rod in
both hands. Impaling his face on Jens’s wood, he pumped the shaft like an oilrig. That
warm little mouth encouraged his cock to grow even bigger. The kid ran his narrow
hips in circles as Logan produced muffled moans from below. From what Jens could
gather, Cooper had grown too big for his britches and Logan couldn’t handle it
anymore. As Cooper retracted his balls from his friend’s mouth, Jens grabbed the lube
and tossed it to the floor. “Here. If you can’t give a good blowjob, you can at least
finger your friend’s bunghole.”

From the intensity of Cooper’s service, Jens could tell when the little cocksucker’s ass
had been infiltrated. Cooper worked him harder, heaving on his shaft while he
plunged his head down on that firm wood. God, his mouth was just so hot and wet!

Their youth must have rubbed off on Jens, because in no time he knew he was going to
come all over the place. He could barely speak for panting. The tension was
exhilarating. “You, Cooper, do you want a mouthful or should I cream that little chest
of yours?” It occurred to him that was the first time he’d given either of the boys a
choice in any matter.

Giving his cockhead one good lick, Cooper backed off completely. Jens felt his balls
quake as he let out a deep growl. Leaning back against the coffee table just in time, he
got splattered with a healthy stream of jizz. The spray didn’t slow him down, though.
He fucked his friend’s astounded face as Jens looked on from above, until he looked
ready to bust a nut in Logan’s throat. But, no. If he weren’t so lost in an orgasmic daze,
Jens might have thought to get out of the way before Cooper could pull his little prick
out of Logan’s mouth. He should have seen it coming.

Cooper let loose. His cum landed with a hot splash across Jens’ solid chest. What could
he do but chuckle? At least it wasn’t all over his face.

When Cooper rolled off the boy on the bottom, he got a great view of Logan jerking
himself off underneath the coffee table. Glass tops were made for moments like these.
Logan thrust his skinny hips up and down as he fucked his lubed-up fist. If Jens hadn’t
just blown his load, he would have come all over again just watching the boy go at it.
When Cooper’s head sank down in front of the couch, Jens couldn’t see exactly what
was going on. Either Cooper was kissing his buddy’s mouth or licking his little pink
boy-nipples. He didn’t care which as long as he had a good view of what was going on
under the coffee table.

And he did. Logan pulled on his pecker so fast his hand was a blur. Whatever Cooper
was doing down there, it was working. Logan moaned and yelped and came with a
vengeance. His jizz coursed up against the glass-top coffee table, coating its underside
with hot white cream.

The boys panted and laughed as Jens sat with his legs splayed wide open on the couch.
“Who’s going to clean up that mess?” he asked, hardening his tone for effect. It wasn’t
easy to speak harshly to them when he felt so damned relaxed.

They didn’t have long to feel so good, as it turned out. The front door clicked and
Soren’s voice resounded through the first floor. “Dad? Are you home?”

“Shit,” Jens hissed, sitting very still. They should all have been racing for their clothing
strewn about the room, but instead they froze. Above ground, Soren’s heavy footfalls
stunned the floor until they heard the bathroom door close. “Get your fucking clothes
together,” Jens insisted as he raced across the room to find his shorts. “Get dressed!
Get dressed!”

By the time Soren opened the door to the basement, Jens was back at it in the weight
room. Cooper and Logan plunked themselves in front of the TV.

“Hey, you guys are here!” Soren said, racing down the stairs just as Cooper scooped the
condom packs from the back table. He shoved them in his pocket. “I’m surprised my
dad didn’t throw you out.”

“Trust me, I tried,” Jens called from the weight room. “But your bastard friends seem
intent on sucking the life from me.”

As Soren turned to shoot them a chastising glare, Cooper and Logan’s eyes landed on
the white pool dripping from the underside of the coffee table. Before Soren noticed it,
they used their big-ass shoes to shuffle some magazines overtop.

“You guys,” Soren said. “You shouldn’t torment my dad.”

They chuckled, throwing Jens a pair of lively grins.

“We know, man,” Cooper said with a nod.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “He’s not bad.”

The End

ABOUT G.R. RICHARDS

There's a reason guys growl for G.R. Richards Erotica. You would never know it by the
love of public television documentaries and great food in high-end restaurants, but
G.R. Richards pens some of the world's steamiest guy-on-guy stories.

Be on the lookout for Richards’ hot Christmas stories, Ivy League, Junk, and Vintage
Toys for Lucky Boys from Dreamspinner Press, Behind the Scenes, We the Bus
People, Behind the Scenes and Devil's Eyes from JMS Books, The Brothers of Hogg's
Hollow, Birds of a Feather, Camp, The Long Way Home, Captain Fluke and Profound
in his Silence from Amber Allure, Sick Fancies from Xcite ebooks, Sacred Stone and
the Singing Bone, And the Lion Shall Lie with the Lamb, and A Descent into the
Mailroom, a gritty BDSM office menage tale from eXcessica Publishing.

Richards is also a contributor to Someplace in the World (Torquere Press), Men at
Noon, Monsters at Midnight (STARbooks), Skater Boys (Cleis Press), When a Man
Loves a Man, Bad Boys and Boy Fun (Xcite Books), and a variety of e-anthologies from
Constable and Robinson.
Visit G.R. Richards online at http://www.grrichards.webs.com/

If you enjoyed Caged and Contused, you might also enjoy:

Sacred Stone and the Singing Bone
By G.R. Richards

In Sacred Stone and the Singing Bone, G.R. Richards weaves tales of humor, horror, and
white-hot paranormal guy-on-guy sex. This mini-anthology consists of three works of
fiction specifically assembled for readers who love a good horror story as much as they
love sweaty male/male erotica. If you can’t get enough shudders, shocks, and
shapeshifters, Sacred Stone and the Singing Bone is for you!

Excerpt from Sacred Stone and the Singing Bone:

From “Sacred Stone”

The guys gasped in unison as Tuul leaped down from the Celtic Cross. He landed in a
crouching position, sending up the heavy scent of decomposing autumn leaves. If it had
been any other guy, the fall would have killed his ankle. Tuul had the luck of the devil.
That, or he was so perpetually wasted he couldn’t feel pain. The ground was muddy
and wet beneath the leaf layer. He slid as he ran up the hill, but seemed to consider the
journey worth the effort. “I’ve found her, guys—the girl of my dreams!”

“That’s a dude,” Alex Wood called. Though the angel’s robe fell down his androgynous
form like a woman’s dress, his hair was slightly shorter than the average female angel’s.
A dead giveaway. Plus, “Look at the chest. No tits.”

Tuul halted on the spot to stare up at the statue. With a shrug, he finally said,
“Whatever. Chick, dude, I don’t care. Cemetery angels are hot.”

Wandering in the statue’s direction, Wood chuckled, “Yes, but does he realize it’s made
of stone?”

“I used to think he’d fuck anything with a pulse,” Bear replied, following Wood up the
hill. “I think he’s reached a new low.”

Alex Knudson almost tripped over an orb as he focused his attention up the hill. He ran
to catch up. “I don’t know. Cemetery angels are pretty hot,” he said. “At least, I think
they are.”

Following the kid’s gaze, Bear had to wonder if his doe eyes were more set on the angel
or on Tuul. As much as Knudson joined in the banter, Bear always saw a flicker of awe
in those young eyes when the idiot was around. They soldiered on up the hill. By the
time they’d reached the top, Tull had an arm and a leg around the statue. “Don’t we

make just the prettiest little couple?” he asked in a drunken falsetto.

The Alexes looked on in disbelief as he dry-humped the angel’s thigh. “Come on, get
down from there,” Bear called.

“Yeah,” Wood joined in. “If you need to act like all crazy, do it at home. Bear doesn’t
want to get haunted because of you.”

A grin broke across Tuul’s lips, and Alex Knudson followed suit. “Give it to him!” the
kid laughed. It broke Bear’s heart to see a sweet young guy so taken with an asshole,
but what could he do? They’d all been down that road at one time or another. It was the
fate of every young person to fall for a bad boy. Bear only hoped the kid wouldn’t get
hurt too badly.

As the idiot on the monument licked the stone figure’s cheek, Knudson egged him on.
“Show him Tuul’s tool!”

Wood shook his head, lowering his eyes. “We’re all going to get haunted for this.”

“Hey, yeah!” Tuul shouted. Laughing like a drunken monkey, he unwrapped his leg
from the stone angel’s body. He undid his jeans and let them drop to his ankles. Against
the dark night sky, his tightie-whities glowed blue. He squirmed out of them. When
they fell nearly to his ankles, his limp dick hung down almost that far. Bear half
understood why a kid like Knudson would appreciate Tuul. His cock made frequent
and random appearances. If he didn’t act like such an assface, Bear might even find
himself interested.

Tuul’s cock pulsed as he ran his palm along the underside of his shaft. His flesh, which
usually seemed darker than theirs, appeared almost as white as the stone sculpture.
Bear didn’t have to look at the other guys to know they were mesmerized by dick. Tuul
was pretty awe-inspiring. In fact, they were caught in such rapture they didn’t notice
the greater miracle. Beside Tuul, the angel awoke. Bear noticed first. His movement was
slow. Maybe that’s why they missed it. His head inched upright and turned to the guy
jacking it—or, at least, drunkenly attempting to.

The stone angel rolled his shoulders. A thunderous crack resounded across the
cemetery grounds as his carved wings broke from his back. They fell down to earth,
planting themselves like giant lilies in the ground.

Bear’s feet planted themselves every bit as firmly. If fear could turn a man white, he
was sure his skin would be forever pale after this insanity. A sense of awe overtook him
as the folds of the angel’s robe rippled in the wind. His chest felt very warm and full,
but he still would have run if he could. It was no use. He was paralyzed with terror.

YOU’VE REACHED

“THE END!”

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