The Chair

A young man finds himself the unwilling star of an erotic show.

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The Chair

A slow, deep voice that sounded as if thinking was an effort said, “Stop struggling or I’ll rip your balls off kid.”

Davis strained to look over his shoulder at the human troll behind him. The man was the comic book epitome of a henchman; six foot six tall, almost as wide, and bulging with a quantity of muscle that could not possibly have been achieved without pharmaceutical assistance.

He was holding Davis by the back of his neck in one enormous hand, the ends of his fingers digging into Davis’s flesh. The boy squirmed from the pain as the man steered him towards the centre of the room.

“I’d listen to him if I were you son, I’ve seen him do it.”

Davis was in no doubt as to the truth of the speaker’s words. He glanced at the man standing before him. He was very overweight, in his 40s or 50s, receding hair shaved almost bald. It was a long time since anyone had glanced at the man with interest, if anyone ever had.

Davis was still bewildered. He repeated the questions he’d asked a dozen times with no answer since being snatched from the street in his hometown of Shelby, Tennessee.

“Who are you? Why am I here?”

This time he finally received an answer, but it did not make him feel better.

“My name is Jacob, and you are just too cute to be walking around alone. Girls will be getting all kinds of dirty thoughts about you. I wanted to make sure you’re playing for our team.”

“I don’t understand, what do you mean?”

Davis had a sickly feeling in his stomach that he knew exactly what the man meant.

“Son, boys like you are just far too pretty to waste on women. I’ve got a lot of friends who have paid good money to see a kid like you getting fucked, and I ALWAYS give value for money. Have you ever been fucked before?”

The sickly feeling intensified. Davis was so anxious he wanted to puke now.

“F… fucked? No.”

“Well you’re fucked now!” the man laughed.

Davis felt a strange mixture of emotions. Relief at the fact that the man was not using the word “fucked” in the sexual sense, and apprehension because the sense he WAS using it was barely any more appealing.

The man stopped laughing.

“No but seriously kid, I’m gonna fuck you today, and you’re going to beg me to do it.”

Davis found it impossible to hide the disgust from his face as he looked at the man again. The fat man laughed.

“I’m telling you kid; Davis isn’t it? You’re going to beg me.”

Davis frowned, momentarily derailed by the fact that the man knew his name. This was personal.

“H… how do you know my name?”

“Saw you at the state fair. Rodeo. You put on a pretty decent performance. Saw you changing afterwards. A skinny kid like you, well, I just knew I was going to give you a ride to remember.”

Davis looked queasy.

“Please don’t. I’m not q…”

He checked himself. Do queers mind being called queer? He decided to play it safe.

“I’m not gay.”

The man grinned.

“Not yet anyway. That’s what I like to hear. Makes it all the sweeter. After today cock will be the only thing on your mind.”

“Can’t you just let me go,” Davis pleaded in the wheedling voice of a child, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh I’ll be letting you go okay, after you’ve ridden my cock. Do what I say and you’ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Fuck me around and you’ll be spending the rest of your life without balls. Now enough talk, take your clothes off.”

 

The troll let go of Davis’ neck. The boy looked at the man then glanced at the door behind him. He wondered if he could beat him to the door. But then he’d have to open it, get through and then what? The man looked at him with scowl, his eyebrows forming sculpted ledges above his eyes. He shook his head slowly and Davis felt his bladder loosen and any defiance in him bled away. He undid the buttons of his red checked shirt, moving so slowly that turtles could have overtaken him.

Suddenly there was a crack and he was on the floor, his cheek stinging. He looked up and to his surprise the fat man was standing over him, his face impassive.

“Don’t push it kid. I want you undressed today, not next month, now move it!”

Davis put his hand to his cheek. He was no pussy, but that hurt! And he hadn’t even seen it coming. Jacob didn’t actually enjoy hurting the boys but it was always necessary just to convince them that his threats were serious.

He rose to his feet and finished unbuttoning his shirt, moving considerably faster now. He dropped it to the floor then pulled off his plain t shirt. He kicked off first one, then the other of his black cowboy boots, then reluctantly undid his heavy denim jeans and lowered them to the floor as well. He stepped out of them then stood in his non-nonsense blue boxers awaiting further instructions.

“Everything,” Jacob said.

Davis bent and peeled off his socks, saving complete nudity until last. He swallowed then pushed his boxers to the floor, instinctively covering his privates with his hands.

“There’s no need for modesty here kid,” the man said with a wry smile. “Move your hands.”

Davis hesitantly moved his hands to his sides and the man appraised his genitals. The teenager’s circumcised penis was thick, but just two and a half inches long, shrunken by fear, but he had a satisfyingly large pair of nuts beneath, and they hung low in a clingy scrotum. Their lowness seemed appropriate for the boy’s rangy body.

“You never considered shaving your pubes?”

Davis shook his head.

The man nodded approvingly.

“Looks good on some boys. Makes their cocks look bigger. I’m glad you didn’t though. You’ve got great pubes.”

Davis looked down at his small, neat bush. He didn’t know whether to be happy about the compliment or embarrassed about the implication about his small dick. He was tempted to defend his dick size, but he didn’t want to get into a conversation about the size of his genitals.

 

“Right, through there,” the man commanded, gesturing towards a second door ahead of them.

Davis looked at the door ahead, and wondered with trepidation what was on the other side. The fat man opened the door and the troll gave Davis a firm push between the shoulder blades. Davis stumbled forwards, then quickly regained his footing and walked through the door into the room beyond.

The room was mostly dark. A single downwards facing spotlight cast a small, narrowly confined pool of white light that barely illuminated a 5 foot circle. In the middle of the circle was a chair. The chair had a high back, and a vinyl covered seat. The seat was a little deeper than a regular chair.

There were incense sticks burning beside the chair, their heady threads of smoke slowly threading upwards from barely glowing tips. It felt like some kind of modern ritual or temple to Davis.

He looked at the chair bewildered.

The man closed the door behind them.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Davis became aware that there were other people in the room. He could see their feet beyond the pool of light, but their faces were lost in darkness. Now he listened, he could hear them moving, talking in low voices. An audience, waiting patiently for whatever was to come.

Davis looked back to the fat man. Now he knew that the man could move fast and hit hard, the teen viewed him with almost as much fearful respect as the troll in the other room. The red imprint of the man’s hand glowed on Davis’s face. It would remain as a dark purple bruise for almost week. Davis would lie about it to his family and friends telling them that he got it in a fight.

 

The man undressed, carefully folding his clothes and placing them on the floor. Davis watched with growing concern. He couldn’t let this man fuck him, he just couldn’t. But how could he escape with his balls and his dignity intact? The man had a large stomach, hairy, out of shape, and fat legs. He was down to his underpants. White Y-fronts. Dad underwear. Davis couldn’t help but glance at the basket at the front. It hung heavy, clearly well filled. The man met his gaze, gave him a wry smile, then dropped his pants.

Five inches of soft thick meat flopped out along with a large fist-sized bag of nuts which bounced heavily beneath. Davis noted that the penis was topped by a long loose foreskin. It was wrinkled and made him feel vaguely nauseated, but that feeling was nothing compared to his rising fear about what the man planned to do with his dick.

“Sit down,” the man ordered.

Davis sat on the chair with his back against the rear.

“Move forwards – to the edge.”

Davis scootched to the front, perching on the edge of the chair, knees together, hands covering his groin like an overly prim secretary taking notes from a leering boss. The light was right in his face. It was not bright enough to make him squint, but it all but killed his vision of everything beyond the cone of light.

“Now, now,” the man chided gently, “we’ve already been over this. Everybody wants to see what you’ve got between your legs. Hands to your sides, knees apart.”

Now was the moment. If he was going to run. The kid looked back at the exit.

“I know what you’re thinking but you’d never make it, and then my large friend in the other room would have to… hurt you. Just imagine the feeling of your balls bursting as he rips them from your body.”

It was a graphic image that Davis had no trouble imagining. He did as he was told, spreading his knees a foot apart.

“Knees wider.”

Davis opened them further.

“Wider.”

Davis opened his knees almost as wide as they could go. He felt like he was presenting his genitals to the audience. On one hand, not being able to see the audience helped, but on the other, anyone could be watching; people from school, girls he knew. But this was about survival. He looked at the floor.

“Good, that’s more like it.”

The man climbed onto the chair behind Davis. The boy arched forward as he felt the man’s fat belly brushing against his back.

“Can I fuck you Davis?” the man asked, repeating his earlier question.

Davis was confused. Was he to be given a choice in whether or not he was to be raped?

“No. No sir. No you can’t.”

The man smiled at the boy’s excessive formality. He was obviously well raised.

“Alright, I’m not going to force you.”

 

The man moved close, pressing his stomach against the boy’s back. Davis was certain that he could distinguish the man’s flaccid genitals pushing against the crack of his ass. He cringed, sitting stiffly. The man moved his head close to Davis’s ear.

“Do you like to jack off Davis?”

“Excuse me?”

“Jack off, choke the chicken, spank the monkey, tease the weasel. Do you like to masturbate?”

Davis didn’t know how to answer. If he said no it would be an obvious lie and there might be repercussions, but if he admitted that he did it would open the door for all sorts of additional possibilities. Eventually he settled on the truth.

“Um, yes, I guess so,” he said in a timid, uncertain voice.

“I thought so. I can tell. You’ve got nice nuts, but they’re pink. You spank it too hard. You should be careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself son.”

The man leaned forwards so that his cheek rested alongside Davis’s. He loved the position. It reminded him of the potter scene in the Patrick Swayze movie Ghost. It was as close as he could get without actually sticking his dick into a boy. It amused him how incredibly uncomfortable it made the straight boys and Davis didn’t disappoint, cringing away from him with an expression of revulsion.

The man reached around Davis with his right hand and gripped the boy’s penis. It had shrunk another inch in fear, and was nothing but a chubby nub sticking up between his legs. Davis literally flinched as Jacob’s fingers brushed against his cock, his eyes opening comically wide, causing a low chuckle of appreciative laughter from several members of the audience.

Davis stared out into the darkness trying to see who was sitting there in the vain hope that there might be someone he could appeal to but he couldn’t make anyone out clearly. He got the distinct impression from the orientation of some of the feet that the audience were seated around tables, but the light was obscuring them.

 

Jacob teased Davis’s chubby little slug for 15 seconds, exploring its form. He loved the kids whose dicks shortened like this. It made them even cuter. Some guys’ dicks just got narrower. They were fun too, but Davis was pretty much a perfect 10 in his book. Cute face, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, neat mid length dark hair, slender body, flat belly, functional muscles. Jacob was not a fan of boys who worked out simply for the sake of gaining muscle. They could be vain and insecure in equal measure. Neither were traits that appealed to him.

He allowed his fingers to drift upwards into the boy’s bush. The kid had a thin tangle of very curly hair, almost black but it was small and formed a neat patch that barely reached the angle where his abdomen met his thighs. His belly was completely smooth. Jacob leaned to the side looked around the boy’s shoulder at his groin. The kid had a healthy golden tan from head to toe.

“No tan lines,” Jacob observed out loud, and a couple of low chuckles emerged from the darkness.

“You spend a lot of time naked Davis?” he asked.

Davis shrugged tensely. His face was screwed up like he wanted to cry.

The truth was, he and his best friend Barrett spent as much time skinny dipping as they could, and they both loved to get naked.

 

The man languidly ran his fingers through the boy’s bush, teasing, lightly scratching the skin beneath, allowing the tangles to curl around his fingertips. He was pleasantly surprised at how soft and fine the hair was.

Jacob used the side of his index finger to flip the boy’s shrunken penis upwards revealing his scrotum. Fear had taken its toll there now as well. It was tight, holding his nuts against his stomach for protection. It was deeply grooved as though the kid had just emerged from an ice-cold lake, and surprisingly dark brown. The seam down the middle was prominent, protruding as the rest of his sack clutched to his body.

The man ran a fat finger lightly over the grooves, feeling each deep ridge beneath his pudgy finger tips.

“So scared,” he said in a voice so low that only the very closest spectators could hear.

“Yes,” Davis whispered back, his tremulous voice answering where no question had been intended.

The man dug his fingers into the rear of the boy’s scrotum, easing the boy’s right testicle away from his body, and capturing it with the side of his thumb. Even cold and afraid as he was, there was no doubting that the boy had larger-than-normal testicles.

Jacob rolled the nut between his fingers, and all Davis could think about was the man’s threat to tear his balls off.

“Don’t hurt me,” he begged.

“Not if you behave yourself.”

The man opened his hand and took both testicles into his fist. He closed it gently and Davis could feel the warmth of the man’s chubby hand. Jacob tugged and rolled on the boy’s balls, in absolutely no rush to progress the proceedings. Davis could feel his balls being gently massaged and gradually his fear of pain receded. Jacob reached around the boy’s chest with his left hand and slowly started to rub Davis’s flat stomach and slightly curved pectorals in time with his ball massage, pulling the boy even closer to him. Davis felt completely trapped, completely at the man’s mercy. His breathing was shallow and laboured. He tried to slow it down to control his fear.

 

Jacob continued massaging the boy for ten minutes whilst the kid slowly lost the edge to his tension.

He tweaked repeatedly at the boy’s small brown nipples, pinching them, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to get them standing up against his smooth chest.

The kid’s balls were loosening in the man’s warm hand. Davis could feel them sinking lower in his sack as the man gently tugged at them.

“Are you ready to play yet?” the man asked.

Davis shook his head emphatically and the man laughed.

“Let’s see if I can change your mind then.”

Jacob reached beneath the chair and pulled out a bottle of baby oil and poured some onto the fingers of his right hand, then he reached around and gripped the boy’s glans between his index finger and thumb and started softly kneading it, rubbing the warm oil into the pink button. Davis felt the familiar tingle of physical excitement emanating from his groin but he was too afraid, too nauseated for it to produce the effect that Jacob desired. That was a common result for Jacob. Only the horniest boys got hard after being kidnapped. It didn’t matter. The audience was in no hurry. Part of the pleasure was in seeing a boy’s barriers dissolving.

 

Jacob continued working on the boy’s glans. It quickly became coated in oil, becoming shiny in the spotlight. Davis could tell that the man was an expert in the art of masturbation. He was touching him in ways and places that the boy had not even discovered, much less touched when he jacked off alone. Or on occasion, with Barrett. He could feel the edge of the man’s index finger repeatedly strumming at the fraenulum beneath his head, then the man would run the tips of his fingers oh-so-lightly around the rim of his glans as though repeatedly screwing and unscrewing a bottle cap.

Davis started squirming involuntarily on the chair and little zaps of electricity shot to his balls from his glans. In spite of himself, his cock twitched repeatedly. Not the twitch of a hardening member, but more of a penis raising its head in reflexive response to attention. But still his fear kept his cock resolutely soft.

The man pulled at it now, stretching the soft flesh like elastic in his fist, using his finger and thumb against the glans like a man uncorking a champagne bottle. The whole length of Davis’s brown cock was oily now, slippery, warm.

Each time Jacob stretched his fist away from the boy’s body, Davis raised his hips to follow the fist, and he let out small groans, not of pleasure, but more like whimpers at the unaccustomed sensation in his glans. Jacob smiled. The boy was eager for pleasure. He just didn’t know it yet. Right now he was still too afraid to let himself go.

 

Jacob stopped masturbating the kid, reached beneath the bench and smeared something else onto his fingers. Davis assumed it was more oil but he was wrong. The man smeared clear gel onto the boy’s top lip. The boy smelled the gel. It had a strong, complicated odour and he turned his head away in disdain. Instinctively he reached up to wipe away whatever the cool stuff was from a lip that had not yet felt a razor. But it was too late. The gel was a mixture of aphrodisiac pheromones, an extract taken from female vaginal excretion, and male semen. Whatever your preferences it was guaranteed to have a strong effect on ANY male.

Davis wiped at the goo, but the amount he had already inhaled was having an effect. As he examined his hand to see what had been smeared on him, his cock was already starting to stand up between his legs. Because it was still shrunken it was not hanging down, so now as the pheromones and love juice did their work, his small cock simply lengthened and lengthened in his lap, free of any attention from Jacob.

Davis suddenly realised that his chub was now standing to eager attention and reached to cover himself, but Jacob promptly slapped his hand away.

“Uh uhh. Hands by your sides.”

It took every ounce of willpower for Davis to move his hands back to his sides knowing that he had a six and a half inch boner on display but he forced himself.

“A grower not a shower huh?” Jacob commented to the audience and a few of them chuckled in appreciation.

Jacob gripped the meat. It was surprisingly thick. In fact he couldn’t even touch his thumb to his index finger. Nature had been kind to the kid. The man slowly jacked the kid for fifteen minutes. Not fast enough to push him over the edge, but enough to keep his body interested. Not that there was any chance of losing his bone with the residue of that pheromone still on his lip, messing with his brain.

Davis was feeling distinctly horny now in spite of his situation. The muscles at the base of his cock were constantly clenching and relaxing in readiness for an orgasm, making his cock twitch and jump with each unwanted contraction. He was straining not to allow his lust to take him over, grinding in the chair and grimacing as his rampant libido fought against his conscious will.

Jacob gripped the boy’s large, low nuts in his left fist and squeezed slowly and firmly. Davis tensed, then sat upright. Jacob continued to increase the pressure gradually as Davis arched back against him in response to the growing pain in his nut sack. It was only when the boy let out a strangled whimper that Jacob stopped squeezing, content that he’d taken the edge off. He didn’t want the boy to come too soon.

“I’ll let you come if I can fuck you,” Jacob said over the kid’s shoulder, a comic demon whispering dark temptations.

But Davis was still a long way from accepting such a bargain. He shook his head with a frown.

 

The man coated his palm with a generous dribble of oil, then slowly started to polish the top of the young cowboy’s glans, moving his palm in large, slow circles. The boy’s squirming intensified as the rough skin of the man’s palm slid across the sensitive pink of his glans.

Davis usually gave his glans as little attention as possible. His foreskin had been cut far back, and the rear coronal edge of his glans curved smoothly and tightly in towards his shaft, protruding relatively little beyond his thick shaft. Even so, he always used lube and a light touch when he jacked off because his glans was so incredibly sensitive. And now Jacob was touching the main part; the bit that Davis stayed away from because it lit him up like a dog with a firecracker up its ass.

The boy’s knees fluttered, trembling, desperate to close in defence of the expert stimulation, but his conscious brain told him to resist closing them or risk the man’s wrath again.

 

As he polished the knob of Davis’s penis, Jacob lightly teased the boy’s nuts in his other hand, bouncing them with his fingers in their once-again loose sack. Although they still ached, for some reason the ache was adding to Davis’s arousal. He’d sack tapped his friends on several occasions, and been the recipient even more often, and despite the pain, there was always something beneath the surface; a kinky, unspoken undercurrent that gave the game an additional edge. And now, with a dull ache deep in his eggs, that same undercurrent was exciting him.

 

He was proud of his dick; well, when it was hard at least. In the showers at school he wished he had the best of both worlds. 5 inches soft, and 8 hard, but given the choice, he was happy with the fact that his boner was a little longer than average and quite a bit thicker. At least he wasn’t going to disappoint any of the girls he fucked. And his dick was hard now. He’d never felt it so hard. It felt like his skin was struggling to contain the amount of blood in it.

He looked down at himself. His dick was glistening in the light, the oil bringing it alive, highlighting the veins that pulsed and strained along the sides of its shaft. Why was he so excited by such a humiliating situation? True, he and Barrett had masturbated each other on several occasions, and if he thought about it he’d realise that his youthful excitement on those occasions had been as much because he was touching his friend’s dick as because he was being masturbated. Davis was not a boy given to deep introspection or self-doubt, and he and Barrett tended to act in the moment, guilt free.

But this was different. He was not supposed to be squirming and panting whilst some fat faggot jacked him off. He was not supposed to be this desperate to cum. He felt himself getting close, but just as he felt like he was going to go over the edge, the fat man yanked his nuts; not as hard as before, but hard enough to stop his orgasm in its tracks. The man stopped polishing the boy’s glans and repeatedly squeezed then released Davis’s large nuts as though they were a pair of stress release balls. To Davis, It was frustrating but immensely titillating at the same time. He wanted to cum so badly, yet the squeezing was somehow cancelling his nuts’ ability to trigger an orgasm, at the same time making him feel even hornier.

“Ahhhhhhh,” he moaned, pumping his hips as though he was actually coming.

His dick twitched hard but nothing emerged from the end.

Eventually he stopped groaning and the man resumed his ministrations.

 

Jacob ran the tip of his index finger softly back and forth along the slit of the boy’s urethra. Davis leaned back against the man, inexplicably exhausted and relieved that his entire glans was no longer being polished. The eye of his dick was a little less sensitive, and the rubbing was enough to keep him throbbing, but not so much that he lost his mind as he had been before.

 

As he stroked the boy’s urethra, Jacob tenderly massaged the kid’s nuts. In spite of their size and his enormous excitement, they hung low in his smooth bag. The skin was thin and he could perfectly feel the surface details of each smooth orb. Jacob was only too aware of the power that he held in his fist. He could close it tightly and squeeze away the boy’s future. Then without hormone injections, the boy would become a fat, listless eunuch just as the singing castrati of Europe had in the past. Although the boy was probably rightly proud of his dick, especially on such a slim body, it was his balls that were the essence of the kid’s maleness, and Jacob felt them pulsing with potency. Just one squeeze of his hand…

But Jacob had no wish to hurt the boy any more than was necessary to control his libido and his body.

 

The boy’s eggs had swollen by nearly 50 per cent since Jacob had started masturbating him – a sign of how great his arousal was.

Jacob leaned forwards and kissed the boy on the cheek. A big wet kiss. Davis recoiled away from the man and looked at him with an expression of ill-disguised disgust. Jacob grinned at the boy, then allowed his index finger to drift past the boy’s urethral opening to the fraenulum at the rear. He tweaked it a few times and the kid grunted and tensed, utterly unable to control his responses to his cock’s extreme sensitivity. Davis looked back at his cock, dismayed that he could be played and distracted so effortlessly. He’d never seen his libido as a weakness before but now he was rapidly coming to realise that in skilled hands, the pleasure in his cock could be used to totally incapacitate him. It was taking all of his willpower now, even to remain seated on the chair. He wanted to slide off it and squirm on the floor, surrendering himself totally to the feelings that this unexpected penile virtuoso was producing. Davis felt like every part of his body below the waist was alive and glowing with euphoria. He could even feel the increased blood flow in the muscles of his calves. His toes curled upwards as he strained and was carried on the wave that washed over him, then they curled downwards as he stretched, yearning for release that Jacob repeatedly denied him.

 

Jacob had been teasing him, playing him, tormenting him for over an hour when the man introduced Davis to a new experience that would forever transform the boy’s view of his body. Davis was squirming on the chair like a 7 year old schoolboy denied a desperately needed toilet break.

“Do you want to cum?” Jacob whispered.

“Yes,” Davis panted, only too aware that the audience would see his shameless acquiescence to his teenage lust.

“What’s that?” Jacob asked, playing with the boy.

“Yes,” Davis repeatedly, a little louder.

“Yes what?”

“YES I WANT TO CUM!” Davis said emphatically, raising his voice.

“That’s good. Maybe sometime soon. You know what you have to do.”

“Uhhhh,” Davis whined, a child denied access to his favourite toy.

 

As he rubbed the boy’s glans between his right-hand finger and thumb, Jacob stroked the boy’s thigh with his other hand. It was slender, but lean muscles tensed beneath the skin. The boy was alternately whimpering and panting as the man repeatedly brought him to the very precipice of his ecstasy before pulling him back to safety he did not want to visit.

The hand on Davis’s thigh moved backwards to the boy’s spine, then slid lower, an oiled pudgy middle finger leading the way. It slipped between the two hemispheres of the boy’s asscheeks, and continued towards its destination. Davis momentarily tensed, arching his hips upwards as the fat fingertip touched his hairless hole. Then the finger started gently circling, the tip touching the outside of the boy’s sphincter. The pleasure there was unexpected – just one more way that this man was teaching the boy’s body new ways of experiencing arousal: ways that the young man would spend the rest of his long life trying to replicate and perfect.

Davis wriggled as the man teased his virgin sphincter, but if asked, the boy could not have answered with honesty, whether he was wriggling to increase the stimulation or to avoid it. The boy’s masculine instinct was screaming “No, no, no!” but his body was screaming “Yes, yes, YES!” His hole didn’t care what his classmates in the locker room would think. His nerve endings didn’t care what his ultra-masculine rancher father would think. His cock and his hole were completely selfish, and they wanted just one thing – more!

 

Jacob gradually applied pressure to his finger as he circled it, and he felt the boy’s hot hole slowly relaxing to allow him inside. The boy’s sphincter was bumpy, but once past the tight inch or so of muscle whose purpose was to control defecation, the man’s finger slipped much deeper with ease. He had large hands, but even so he had to reach deep for the target he was seeking; the wrinkled bulge that denoted the boy’s prostate. Jacob’s finger nails were cut short and files smooth, but he was going in back to front. He’d have preferred it if the boy was on his knees, but then the audience would not have gotten to see the boy’s genitals as he worked.

 

The man gripped the boy’s nuts in his right hand. He could feel them thrumming with sexual energy, eager, desperate to discharge their load. They felt like two small tangerines in his hand, tender and juicy. He knew that it would take just the slightest provocation to make them give up their cream in an explosion of sticky teen juice. Precum was flowing from the boy’s cock in a slow-motion river, clear strands twisting and drooling in the bright light as it dribbled from the shaft onto the knuckles of the man’s hand, and from there onto the boy’s tender sack, before dribbling to the floor, where it puddled as evidence of his rampant adolescent lust.

Jacob squeezed the kid’s nuts slowly but firmly. They compressed in his hand with the consistency of raw liver. Davis tensed, fearful that the man would not stop, but Jacob’s intent was simply to prevent the boy from ejaculating as he attended to the kid’s prostate.

The man returned his attention to the hazlenut-sized bulge inside the boy and started to massage it with the back of his finger tip. The kid trembled as the man introduced his body to a potent new source of sexual pleasure. Jacob continued stroking, gradually increasing the pressure. The clear fluid oozing from the boy’s cock turned milky as his prostate slowly gave up its contents. Davis felt something like the sensation of an orgasm; the rising pleasure, but with his testicles clamped firmly in the man’s fist, he could not squirt, nor did it trigger the refractory hiatus that would have resulted if his balls had been free to pump their eager cargo.

Jacob stopped massaging the boy’s prostate, and instead start finger fucking him, slow but shallow. Davis lifted his head so that he faced the ceiling, grimacing, and using his feet against the ground, he pushed back against the man with the base of his shoulders as the nerves of his sphincter flooded his rear with delicious euphoria. No longer did he even consider closing his knees. He spread them as wide as possible, unaware that his body was adopting the position in an effort to increase the pressure against the man’s finger.

“Ohhh please,” Davis groaned. “let me cum!”

“You know what you have to do,” Jacob said calmly.

“I can’t,” the boy said, his voice trembling with desire.

“Then at least kiss me.”

Jacob turned to his right, looking over his shoulder. He was slumped low and Jacob’s face was there. The boy leaned forwards, his lips puckered, and Jacob leaned to meet him. Their lips met, and Jacob pulled his finger from the skinny kid’s asshole. The boy’s brow briefly furrowed in disappointment. The man gripped the back of the boy’s hair in his fist and pulled the boy closer, opening his mouth so that they could kiss deeper. He forced his tongue into the boy’s mouth. Davis resisted, but Jacob was insistent. He released the boy’s balls and started slowly jacking the head of the boy’s glans using his thumb and forefinger, his fingers sliding across just a half inch of prick from just beneath the head of the boy’s corona, to halfway along the glans. His movements were not fast enough to elevate Davis’s excitement, but the boy correctly realised that the attention was the offer of a reward if he returned the man’s affections. He opened his mouth and allowed the man’s tongue free range inside his wet mouth. He reached back with his own arms over his shoulder and pulled the man’s head to him. The line between play acting in order to hasten his freedom, and a natural response to increase his own pleasure was non-existent. The man had so expertly aroused the boy that Jacob was willing to do anything that would heighten that pleasure.

Jacob’s penis rose behind the boy. Davis was aware of it pressing against his lower back. It felt big and very hard. Jacob ground against the kid’s back as they kissed, and although Davis was revolted at being the sexual plaything of this large, sweating bear of a man, a tiny part of him liked the fact that he was the cause of the man’s impressive hard on.

They kissed deeply for fifteen long minutes. All the while Jacob slowly wanked the head of the boy’s straining cock. The kid’s libido was off the charts. He was so horny that he could barely think.  He wanted the man’s touch, he wanted the man to do more, to go faster, harder, to make him cum and cum. He no longer cared about the audience at all. All he wanted to spray his jizz high into the air, in a triumphal celebration of teenage lust. But Jacob wouldn’t let him.

Every so often, with almost supernatural prescience, the man would sense the boy’s excitement rising to a crescendo and he would stop and remove his hand from the boy’s cock entirely. Whenever he did so, the boy’s cock would jump and twitch as though trying to draw attention back to itself. Then, after a minute, Jacob would gently return his hand. First a single finger, tracing the V where the glans corona met the fraenulum, or tracing the boy’s piss slit, or lightly polishing the glans using the young rodeo rider’s own copious amounts of precum, then slowly returning to the jacking motion.

 

One time, Davis reached for his cock, eager to finish what the man had started.

“No!” Jacob said emphatically, slapping the boy’s hand away.

When their faces met again, he bit the kid’s lip drawing blood. Davis understood the warning. His orgasm was not his to instigate. His wildly horny body was this man’s to control and to release as he saw fit.

The boy eventually pulled his face away.

“Let me cum. Please, I can’t take any more. You’re driving me crazy.”

His voice was husky; hoarse with adolescent sexual excitement after more than two hours of denial.

“Not yet,” Jacob said.

He increased the speed of his jacking, whilst lightening the pressure, hinting at more excitement, whilst denying the contact that would make it satisfying.

“But you said if I kissed you!”

“No, I just said ‘kiss me’. Nothing more.”

Davis looked comically disappointed; betrayed. He knew now that his torment would only end one way. He started snivelling, utterly broken.

Jacob lowered his left hand and resumed finger fucking the boy, giving the kid’s body attention both front and back. He slipped a second finger inside, and eventually a third, stretching the boy’s hole.

“Pleeeease,” the kid implored in one last attempt to appeal to the man’s humanity.

Jacob responded by releasing his cock and lightly gripping his balls.

“It’ll be the best orgasm of your life,” he whispered.

Davis was the one grinding once again, pressing his bottom against the man’s fingers.

“Mmm huh huh huh,” Davis panted pitifully, crying in a whiny tone as he finally surrendered. “Go on then, do it. Just get it over with.”

 

In the darkness the audience murmured their approval. Jacob always got his way. Boys were simply not emotionally equipped for the level of desire that the man could generate in their bodies. Most thought of sex as three minutes of masturbation, or if they were really sophisticated, five minutes of fucking. Hour upon hour of relentless, skilled edging and constant denial, spiralling ever upwards, was enough to drive even the toughest of boys out completely crazy in their desire for relief.

Jacob smiled and oiled his cock, then he gripped the boy by his waist and lifted him off the chair. Davis winced, anticipating pain as the man’s thick cock penetrated him, but his desire was greater than his fear. As it happened, it was not pain he felt as he lost his cherry, it was pleasure. The man’s fat fingers had already ploughed the road, preparing for his cock, and as he lowered the boy back onto it, despite its girth, it slid easily into him. Davis felt his sphincter spreading to accommodate its girth, and it was mildly uncomfortable, but not painful. And that was disturbing to him in its own right. If it had been agonising, he could always tell himself that he had been raped, that the man had messed with his mind, but this easy joining of bodies was almost pleasant. But the most important thing to Davis was that his torment was almost at an end.

The man started to bounce the boy up and down, and before he knew it, Davis was standing and sitting under his own power in harmony with the man’s fucking. The man’s cock was touching him in that place deep inside, making him feel like he was ready to explode at any moment.

The man was holding the teen’s cock in his oily right fist, twisting it repeatedly, screwing the knob off and off, driving Davis closer and closer.

At the same time, Jacob had the kid’s ball sack in his left hand and he was wringing the scrawny neck between his finger and thumb, pushing Davis’s large glistening and greasy nuts down low in his hairless bag, then squeezing them lightly in his fist, before releasing them, gripping the top of his bag and starting all over again. For some reason, the image of a baker squeezing an icing bag as he wrote a message on a cake popped into Davis’s head, but it wasn’t icing that he was going to be producing if the man kept it up.

Each time Davis felt certain he was going to blow his top, the ball squeeze short circuited his nuts and distracted him just enough, deferring his orgasm by a few seconds. And each time he got more and more excited, and the man was fucking him faster and faster.

Davis would never have believed it was possible to be this horny, let alone this horny without coming. He was bouncing fast now atop the man’s throbbing cock, instinctively transferring his own lust into actions designed to make his tormentor cum. At the same time, his own cock was straining from the unique sensation of having his hole filled by a fat cock, and the unique thrill of its fat head massaging his prostate.

Jacob knew that his own orgasm was imminent, so he lightened his grip on the boy’s balls, twisting the kid’s bloated nuts in their sack. He stopped screwing the top off the kid’s helmet, switching now to a conventional pumping motion, his hand flying up and down so fast that it was nothing but a blur. Davis went crazy and let out a triumphal scream of ecstasy.

“YESSSSS!”

A massive blast of jizz rocketed from his cock, arcing four feet in the air and over his left shoulder. It was joined by another and another. The fourth hit him in the face just below the left eye but he was heedless, lost in a paroxysm of pleasure that rendered the entire world temporarily irrelevant. He continued to pump, five, six times. Jacob directed the jets around for the entertainment of an audience that would take videos of the boy’s performance home to enjoy at their leisure. The fifth and sixth landed on the boy’s almost flat chest, then the next four flew away in front, splatting on the dark linoleum floor. It was only as the boy hit number 14 that his ejaculations finally diminished to a series of tiny squirts that trickled down his cock and across the man’s hands.

Jacob smiled with satisfaction; 17 in total before the kid was dry, but Davis was writhing and grinding as his empty balls continued to try to seed an invisible mate. His body had been edged for so long that it didn’t know how to stop. He flopped and strained, clawed his hands, and pushed against his liberator, eyes rolled far back in his head, as his balls and prostate and penis sent synchronised waves of pleasure throughout his body. Eventually, one minute and forty seconds after his yearned for orgasm began, Davis finally collapsed against Jacob’s body, physically, mentally, and sexually spent, dark hair stuck in wet strands to his forehead, beads of sweat covering his golden chest and face.

Jacob had started to ejaculate the second the boy blew his load. His orgasm was satisfying but nowhere near as meteoric, and now his own semen sloshed around inside the boy’s colon. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than seeding a cute young straight boy, and a part of him would leave with the boy when he was released.

 

Half an hour later, Davis staggered out of the van that dropped him a few miles from his home. Twilight was only just beginning to fall; that magical hour that photographers call “the blue hour”, when the sun was no longer visible and the sky was changing from gold to night blue. Stars were visible above but the horizon was still yellow and pink.

Davis had started the day like any other, and now less than 12 hours later, his life would be forever different. He had undergone a paradigm shift, and it would take him years to come to terms with the pleasure he had experienced.

“If I was you kid,” Jacob said, “I wouldn’t tell anyone about this. You learned something about yourself today. It’s up to you what you do with that knowledge, but getting the police involved will only lead to heartache. And we have video. I’d hate that to get out to your friends.”

Davis looked at the man. He was still exhausted, shell-shocked. Crimson coloured his tanned face beneath his white cowboy hat. He knew that Jacob was right. He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly a few times, trying to find something to say. Then without saying anything, he turned and walked towards his home, silhouetted on the road against the evening light streaked with dark clouds, edged with gold. Jacob looked at the wet patch in the seat of the kid’s jeans and smiled.