Big Steve by Mudcub
Big Steve was a big boy. 6 foot 4 inches, and either 270 or 280 pounds, depending on if he just ate dinner. Built like a shit brickhouse. One time I was over at his house and I put on a pair of his jeans. Both my feet fit inside one pantsleg... and I'm not a little guy myself. Big Steve was like some kind of powerful farm animal, which was why I wanted to tie him up and do nasty things to him.
Oh I was a little stinker. I waited until I knew Scotty was out of town. Now, don't worry. Big Steve and Scotty aren't monogamous. It's not like I was being a homewrecker. But Scotty has a rule that Big Steve can't jack off while Scotty is away. I knew this, and that's why I was casual when I called Big Steve up on the phone.
"How are you doing, Steve?" etc. etc.
"Nnh," Big Steve answered. Then in a low voice, "I'm horny as fuck."
Really? And how is that different than normal? "What happened to that guy that was supposed to come over yesterday?" I inquired.
Big Steve sounded gruff. "He flaked."
Oh, too bad, I consoled him. "How about if you came over to my place tonight? Say, about 8 pm? I'll make sure you shoot at least once..."
It was like shooting fish in a barrel. A horny Steve monster... cumless for over a week now, and frustrated from being stood up last night. Perfect.
When Big Steve came over, there was no small talk. I didn't need to lead him , or point out the my newel post on my staircase. Big Steve knew what he wanted, and he headed right from the front door downstairs to my dungeon without a word, shedding clothes as he went. A sweaty t-shirt dropped on the landing, his belt draped over the railing. By the time I met Big Steve in the basement, he was hopping on one foot trying to remove one of his boots.
Here's one of the things I love about Big Steve. Even though the guy is huge - he could crush my skull with one hand - once he is stripped naked, he is as bashful as a freshman boy. He paused a second before hooking two of his meaty thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, and dropping his drawers right there on the floor. I swear his cheeks turned red as he turned away from me in order to hide his growing boner, cupping his hands over his groin like he had something to hide.
That was ok. I sat in the boot-blacking chair at one end of the dungeon watching the show. I loved seeing Big Steve showing me his ass... a light cover of blonde curly hair covering his ass cheeks, leading to a thicker patch on his lower back, right above the well-muscled globes of his buns. I loved the way Big Steve's huge thighs led down to those gigantic calves - the guy must do a lot of squats. Or maybe he just get's fucked a lot... I didn't know.
"Get on the table," I barked.
Big Steve almost jumped onto the table. He knew what was coming. he'd been in this dungeon before. I had the table specially made. It's over 500 pounds, heavy metal tubes welded to an old doctor's examining table I bought on ebay. The thing can't be moved. Which is a good thing, because Big Steve is known to move around quite a bit when he is being tickled. I've seen him rip apart St. Andrews crosses and shake slings down from the rafters when he's excited. But once I got him tied to this device, there's no amount of thrashing that could tip the table over.
I have huge industrial restraints looped through the bars of the table. Again, that's a necessity for Big Steve. He can rip apart leather cuffs like they were paper. But these restraints are heavy-duty. Canvas and leather, at least six inches wide in parts. There are straps that go over Big Steve's chest, as well as four bands for each arm. Five for each leg... at the upper and lower thigh, over the knee, and at the top of the calf as well as the ankle. There are straps for Big Steve's head, and one at the neck. I can tighten them down as tight as I like, and I like them REALLY tight. By the time I'm done, I can see Big Steve's naked ass and back mashed into the table, his skin turning a little red where the belts go across his belly and under his nipples.
Trust me, they really need to be that tight - because in a few minutes, Big Steve is going to want to kill me. If he can get even one hand free, he would undo the belts and rip my throat out. That is until the boy cums, and then he's as gentle as a lamb. It's just going to take a lot of work to get us there...
I look down at Big Steve laying there, all helpless under all those straps. And I'm instantly hard. But first, I need to test the straps. I get out my favorite flogger... a bullhide flogger that weighs at least ten pounds. I raise it over my head, and just start whacking.
The room is filled with noise as Big Steve starts screaming. I'm bringing the flooger down with all my might - no warmup - and I'm trying to hit wherever the leathe straps aren't. Big Steve's meaty thighs, the bottoms of his feet, his hands. There are angry red stripes wherever I connect. To tell you the truth, I lose my mind a bit. Big Steve is bellowing, I'm flailing madly, and everything is a blur of pain and noise.
It all take only two mintues. I stop hitting Big Steve, and he starts cursing me. "MUDCUB YOU FUCKING FUCK! GODDAMN FUCKING FUCK YOU FUCK." That sort of thing. But the exercise has proved my point. I test the leather straps over Big Steve's chest, and they are still tight. I adjust one or two, bot overall, the boy didn't move an inch during the abuse.
We are ready to begin.
Big Steve is still cursing me out. FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU FUCKING ASSFUCK! When I pull out a clean white bedsheet. With a flourish, I shake it over the restrained form, letting the sheet fall gently down covering Big Steve's entire body. He looks like a ghost, completely covered from head to toe. There isn't an inch of skin to be seen as I tuck the edges of the sheet under the table and tie them off with some tension. In under a minute, Big Steve turns into a shapeless lumps underneath a white sheet.
Now, I've never done this to Big Steve before, so he has a right to be a little freaked out. The boy HATES hoods. We have negotiated that in the past. No restricted breathing, no blindfolds. No gags, which is a shame, because he's stilly yelling at me from underneath the sheet. GODDAMMIT, WHAT'S THIS SHIT... I CAN'T SEE, YOU FUCK! Which is a shame, because I'd really like to gag Big Steve right now.
Instead, after the sheet is secure, I go to my toy box and pull out a pair of scissors. I dramatically open and close them, enjoying the snicker-snack sound they make. At this unusual sound, Big Steve is instantly quiet and stops trying to move. "That's right," I tease, "Maybe I'll circumsize you while you're helpless!"
At that, the thrashing starts again. FUCK YOU, MUDCUB, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. WHEN I GET UP FROM HERE, I"M GONNA FUCK YOU UP! But ove the protestations, I notice that there is a huge pole holding up the sheet. Big Steve's cock is rock hard, and there is precum at the tip. The dickslime dripping from the head of his cock is soaking the bedsheet, causing a quarter-sized transparent stain right where the sheet is being held up like a tent. So I know that even through the protestations, Big Steve is enjoying this. Just a little.
Now, for the record, I was joking. I would never circumsize a beautiful dick like the one Big Steve has. It looks small, but that's just because it angles between those huge bodybuilder thighs. I'd imagine that Big Steve was about 6 inches long. Which wouldn't be so weird, except that he's about two inches across in diameter. For a visual reference, picture a water bottle, one of those disposible kinds you buy at the store. Then imagine half of that. Big Steve has a short stubby kind of dick, but trust me... it feels great up your ass. Lots of stretching, and Big Steve can really plow you with a lot of force.
But not right now. Big Steve's groin is firmly attached to the table, and as much as Big Steve grunts and strains, he can't lift his dick even one inch to meet the friction of my hand. Instead, I play around with the scissors, tracing a lazy path with the sharp point up and down Big Steve's erection. I can see Big Steve huffing and puffing from under the sheet, his breath making the sheet raise up a little bit, and then when he inhales, making it conform to his face a little bit. But don't worry, I know that he can breath just fine. But his vision is a uniform field of white. Like being snowblind. My idea for this scene is some sensory deprivation. Even though I know Big Steve hates hoods, this will work in the same way, but forcing all of his attention into his hard cock.
I take the scissors and cut a small hole around the base of Big Steve's dick. Only about the width of a beer can, a perfect circle I can pull Big Steve's weighty nuts through. During all of this, Big Steve is completely silent and still. I bet he doesn't want me to accidentally nick him with the scissors. But for fun, I start cutting away at whatever public hair I see poking through the hole. I hope Scotty doesn't mind when I return his property to him later tonight.
Voila. I am done. Big Steve is no heavily restrained, just a lump underneath a white sheet. But under the single light bulb in the dungeon overhead, like a hot spotlight, is Big Steve's huge penis. There is a dime sized drop of pre-cum flowing from the pee slit down the underside of Big Steve's cock head. Big Steve is a real oozer, and before the night is through, I'm going to see how much fluid I can milk from that beautiful penis.
I take my finger and play around with the goo. It sticks to my forefinger and creates a shining rainbow from Big Steve's dick to my hand. I hold my finger up to my mouth and taste it. Yum. If you've never eaten pre-cum before, I pity you. I am tempted to open my mouth and just start sucking the life out of Big Steve, but I restrain myself. There will be time for that later.
Instead, I start smearing the head of Big Steve's dick with the fluid. It's like finger painting. I rub my finger softly at the hole, pulsing out the clear mucus, and then I draw a line straight down from the pee slit over the ridges of Big Steve's cock head, and down onto the shaft. Over and over. From under the sheet, I hear moaning, every motion of my finger causing Big Steve's dick to twitch and more pre-cum to come rolling out.
I am reminded of Japanese artists who used to create things with laquer. Layer after layer of thin applications of paint. I let the stuff dry by blowing on it, and then draw another line down the crown of Big Steve's penis, over his frenum, and down to his balls. I wonder if I did this for twenty-four hours, if I'd start to build a crusty helmet of pre-cum all over Big Steve's dick. Like a hard shell, becoming less and less sensitive as it dried, until Big Steve was feeling nothing at all from the sensation. I bet it would drive him crazy.
But one thing I've figured out about Big Steve is that while he's pre-cumming, he's incredibly horny. In fact, if I was to lube up one fist and jack him off with lots of pressure, I bet I could make him cum within seconds. But eventually, Big Steve's dick gets worn out from all the stimulation. He stops pre-cumming, and his dick goes a little soft. And that's where we are right now. Which sounds terrible, but it's actually a lot of fun. I can do a whole bunch of mean things to his dick, and not worry that Big Steve is going to shoot off prematurely. We've still got a lot of time left to kill.
I have a whole bunch of tiny clothespins. They are really fun to look at. They are shaped like regular clothespins, but about half the size. The funny thing is, when they are on someone's dick, the optical illusion makes it look like you have a HUGE weiner. But better yet, the fuckers REALLY hurt. And even though I know Big Steve isn't really into pain, this is one of those tribulations that the penetent must suffer throuh on the way to nirvana.
Big Steve can't see what I'm doing from underneath the sheet, but when the first clothespin goes on... right underneath his cockhead on the sensitive frenum part, Big Steve starts yelling. AAAAAAAAW FUCK! NO NO NO NO NO! YOU ASSHOLE! NOT THE CLIPS! He's felt this senstation before. What I think is so interesting, is that even though Big Steve complains with every single clothespin that goes on his dick... in a perfect line down each side of his shaft, and several small ones holding his piss slit open at the tip... Big Steve's dick just gets harder and harder.
Now, I've been the uncomfortable subject of these pins before, and let me tell you, when your dick gets harder, the skin starts to pinch more and more. So a clothespin that didn't feel so back when your penis was falccid is excruicatingly painful when you are hard. That's what's so weird - Big Steve is complaining under the bedsheet - his voice growing horse from the screaming and yelling, but his dick just throbs and starts to turn purple where the clamps are waving in the air. I think it's strange, and science should explore it further. But the best part is, Big Steve's dick starts to pump out pre-cum again, so I know we can move on to the next part.
I take the clothespins off one at a time. Probably slower than Big Steve would like. He is almost crying from relief and pain. That's a hard comination to take at the same time. His dick is covered in jism, and I know it's really hurting as the blood starts flowing back for where those clamps were biting into his skin. So, I decide to jack him off for a while.
This is really tricky. I know that Big Steve is close to shooting. And my giving him constant stimulation with my hand, I know I could make him cum in under thirty seconds. So I decide to make a game out of it.
"Hold you breath, boy." I say.
"Whut?" comes a confused voice from under the sheet.
"As long as you aren't breathing," I explain, "I will continue to pump your cock. The minute you inhale, I will stop for a while."
It's a wierd game and I hear Big Steve take a huge breath in, a giant gasp of life-giving air. I see him motionless on the table, quivering in anticipation, which quickly turns to anxiety.
He lets out his breath in a huge gasp, "WHAT THE FUCK?"
"I didn't tell you to start yet," I say.
FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK, says Big Steve. But after I stop laughing at him, the game starts.
Big Steve takes in a huge lungfull of air. And as a reward, he gets several slow strokes from my gooey fist. And I mean slooooow strokes. The kind that take thirty full seconds to travel from the stem to the stern. Big Steve is annoyed at this, but he doesn't want me to stop. He wants the game to keep going. And I imagine his face is turning blue as his lungs are burning, trying to hold out one more second, one step closer to a glorious orgasm as my hand travels downward in a wonderful squeeze and slower and...
FUCK! says Big Steve. FUCKING FUCK! He is panting, and I pull my had away, letting his dick bob slowly in the breeze, unfulfilled. FUCKING FUCK! repeats Big Steve, and then again quickly OK, GO AGAIN, he orders me. A giant gasp of breath, and I replace my hand, but even slower this time, a tight grip milking the precum out of his dick as I travel upwards squeezing the tip with my fingers before returning in a downward pressure to...
FUCK! FUCK! And an inward gasp. Oh man, this is fun. Big Steve isn't getting any closer to an orgasm, and he is just tiring himself out. I wish I could see his face, all pinched and red... wanting to cum so badly, but unable to reach the finish line as he sees it slip farther and farther away from him.
After about fifteen minutes of this game. OK! OK! GIMME A SECOND! OK! Big Steve is panting, and I decide to give him a break. I step back and look at the figure on the table.
I am reminded of patients on a operating table. Don't surgeons isolate the surgical area? All I can see of Big Steve is an angry red penis sticking up out of the sheet and pointing at the ceiling. Man, the guy has been hard for over an hour now. That must be frustrating. The white sheets is soaked with sweat wherever is it touching Big Steve's skin. Around the hold cut out around his penis is a wet mess of spit and precum. I'll have to throw the sheet away when we're done.
I have paint brushes, little artistic brushed with only a few bristles on them. I don't think it's enough stimulation to make anyone cum, but with Big Steve, you never know, he's so pent-up. I loves it when I trace big lazy circles around the head of his dick. I'm painting with pre-cum, whipping the brush back and forth over Big Steve's frenum before making long strokes up and down his shaft like I'm painting a fence.
Oh, there are so may other toys to play with. I try a scrubbing brush, but Big Steve doesn't seem to like that one very much. I slip on a rubber glove, and a magnum-sized condom over Big Steve's dick, and let him feel some rubber-on-rubber action for a while. That really cuts down on the stimulation, and I bet it's really annoying. So I keep doing it for a while. I admire the way the condom fills up with pre-cum, so when Big Steve isn't looking (well, he CAN'T look from under the sheet), I snap the condom off an suck it dry. Yum, that taste so good. A little like latex, but what can you do?
I notice that Big Steve has a lot of public hair growing up the shaft of his dick, so I decide to take care of it. Big Steve is blonde, but that doesn't mean there aren't wiry curly hairy hairs all around the base of this penis. Luckily, I have a pair of tweezers in my toy kit, and I go get them. Big Steve doesn't know what is going to happen, and I hum a happy little tune as I grab one such hair an pull slowly.
Man, it's tenacious. The hair follicle refuses to let go. And I bet it hurts, since Big Steve starts screaming again at the top of his lungs. AAAAAAAAAAh FUCK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU FUCK! THAT HURTS! FUCK! I decide that even though it's fun to pull slowly, it works better to yank, so I grab three or four long hairs growing up the shaft of Big Steve's dick and yank them out.
It's a good thing Big Steve is restrained, because I bet he would be jumping three feet off the table with this pain. But I am concentrating on my task. Over and over again, I yank out the offending hairs, until Big Steve's shaft is as smooth and baby pink as the day he was born. Sure, there's a little blood, but sometimes it's fun to jack off with a little blood.
Big Steve is shouting bloody murder at me, describing all the things he's going to do to me once he gets free. But I know he doesn't mean it. That is, as long as I give him what he wants in the end. And what he wants is a handjob, I figure. So, I go and get a lot of lube. A LOT. I want my hand to be so gooey that he doesn't really feel what I'm doing. Just a circular washig maching motion of lube and cum until he doesn't know which way is up.
Things are going to get messy.
I start off with one of my favorite tricks: "apple polishing". I concentrate on the head of Big Steve's dick with one well-lubes palm. After an hour and half of constant stimulation of his dick, I thought that this would take him over the edge, and it does. Big Steve's protestations and cursing turn into one long moan of pleasure. I swear the guy doesn't inhale once as I swirl my hand up and over the top of his dick. Down in a firm grasp, milking the base of it with almost painful pleasure, and then returning to squish the head with a handfull of goo. I know Big Steve is only going to be able to handle a few minutes of this before blowing his top, so I stop, and kneel under the table.
Big Steve sense that something is up. And when he suddenly feels me undo the trap door beneath the table and expose his ass cheeks to the cold air, he protests.
"Hey!" He yells, "I told you I'm not a bottom or anything."
"Yes, I know," I reply, "And I also that we negotiated 'some as play' so shut up."
"Yeah," said Big Steve glumly, "SOME ass play."
"You like your ass played with," I reminded Big Steve.
"Well..... yeah," he said quietly.
What a big piggy.
I grab a big fist of lube and work it up into Big Steve's crack from underneath the table. It's a ltitle hard to get to his hole, since his buttcheeks are pinched together from the pressure of the straps. But I don't care, I'm just trying to turn the whole area into one big lubey mess.
My left hand goes in and out, up into Big Steve's sweaty crack. Meanwhile, my other hand reaches around to the top of the table, and grabs ahold of Big Steve's hard dick. I know he loves the dual sensation. One hand tickling at the outside of his asshole while the other hand jacks him off. >From underneath the ghost sheet, I just hear happy sounds of pleasure.
All of a sudden, my left hand finds the hole, and I mash some grease into it. On finger tickles the outside puckered lips, and all off a a sudden, BOOM. Big Steve's asshole opens up like the bloom of a flower. One knuckle slips inside, and then two. The poor boy is getting taken against his will. But that doesn't stop his hard dick from pumping out more joy juice.... thick slimy pre-cum making a white foamy froth into my right hand.
I find Big Steve's prostate and mercilessly start pressing it with two fingers. Big Steve loves this. And the stimulation makes him precum even more, as if such thing was possible. Christ, the boy must have leaked several pints already. I'm moving two fingers roughly in and out of Big Steve's asshole, and each time I bottom out, I hit his prostate, rubbing it a few times hard before pulling out all the way, leaving him empty and frustrated.
Damn, I could play with this boy's hole all day. But I'm getting tired, and I sense Big Steve is near the end, so I decide to give him the orgasm he worked so hard for these last two hours. I pound his ass with my left hand will jacking him off furiously with my right. Big Steve is gasping and yelling, bellowing like a bull. He's making nonsense words, just out of his head, yelling at me to STOP, and then DON'T STOP and then FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK. And I know he's getting close, because every muscle in his body is straning against the bonds, pulling his body into an arc with only his head and feet touching the table and
FUCKFUCKFUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCK! FUCKFUCK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
I leave two fingers up Big Steve's asshole as I feel his balls pull up and start to disgorge. Cum flies eight feet over his head, spraying the wall to my left, and leaving firework spurts of cum over the sheet in long streak. I love the feeling as Big Steve's rectum milks my two fingers, his asshole clenching and releasing with each ejaculation from Big Steve's dick. I swear the orgasm lasts at last sixty seconds as rope after rope of hot cum shoots from Big Steve's dick all over the sheet covering his chest and face.
I keep jacking my right hand hard, and I notice the phase where Bgi Steve's yells of pleasure turn into annoyance that I'm still jacking him off. I know that I could probably still keep stimualting Big Steve and there is nothing he could do about it, but I know he would get madder and madder. Big Steve's partner Scotty could get away with a milking scene like that, but I don't think I could. So with more than a little regret, I pull my hand off Big Steve's dick with a wet THWACK sound.
Both Big Steve and I are panting. The white sheet is transparent from all the liquid that's been soaked into it. From underneath the soaked fabric I hear Big Steve's voice.
YOU FUCKER.
And then.
THAT WAS SO GOOD.
That's what I love about Big Steve. He's all ready for another go 'round.