Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. All names, places and descriptions are purely fictional, and are not based on any real person, living or dead. Please leave now if you are underage, or dislike vivid descriptions of sexual activity between dominant men and a submissive teenage boy.
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Gay - Authoritarian: M+/t oral anal
Submissive Dick - Part 2
I shuddered as the new arrivals entered the van. I didn't turn my head to look over my shoulder - that would be regarded as deeply disrespectful, so I waited anxiously for someone to speak.
"Is this the rent-boy?" said a man with a gruff voice. "He's got a nice arse."
"Yes, Clay," said Tom. "He's eighteen years old and works for Walter Billington."
"Our boy doesn't work for anyone," said a man with a whispered drawl. "We jumped him at the bus station .... He's just another dozy runaway, looking for fame and fortune."
"He looks a bit out of it," said Harry.
"Yes," said Clay. "He didn't like losing all his clothes and bending over for... Now how did he put it, 'a couple of old deviants'. Stan smacked him about a bit, but still he needs dosing up between romps."
"Here, the stuff I use is in this bag," said Stan. "If you like a lot of fight-back, don't use too much."
"Cheers," said Harry. "Our boy likes being knocked about, so no worries there."
I was clearly being swapped for the runaway, but how was it going to be done? Would I stay in the van with Clay and Stan, or would the two men want to take me away with them? Suddenly, a hand reached between my legs and grabbed my ball-sac.
"Don't be alarmed, boy," said Clay. "I just need to check out your assets, so stand perfectly still."
I froze as the man ran his other hand over my arse-cheeks.
"Good boy," he continued. "Nice hairless ball-bag and a firm arse. You're gonna look great, lying naked in our new sling."
I remained perfectly still, wondering where this "new sling" was located. The man's hand was still squeezing my left arse-cheek as I pondered my fate.
Without a word, he stretched my arse-cheeks apart and pushed some kind of object into my hole. Instinctively, I tried to resist the intruder, but suddenly I felt and heard a whip fall across my bare back.
"Bite on that gag, boy," he ordered. "A wimp like you can cry out all you want, but not on my time."
I grunted as the object was rammed home, deep into my anal cavity. I then felt a leather collar being secured around my neck. The naked runaway was then brought round to face me. He really did look "out of it" as the men secured him, in a mirror position to mine, to the van's roof and floor. He had brown hair and hazel eyes, and looked to be around sixteen or seventeen years old. We both stood there, face to face, as the men placed a leather collar around his neck.
"Right!" said Stan. "Let's rope them together, real tight."
Ropes were secured around our left legs, our right legs, and our midriffs. A short rope was then tied between the front D-rings on our collars. This, in effect, forced us to kiss one another.
"That's champion," said Clay. "Now use the whip on rent-boy's back and the paddle on runaway's arse. And someone rope-gag runaway to stop him crying out.
Runaway and I kissed in an awkward fashion as the paddle and whip abused our naked bodies. Our cocks also rubbed together as we moved as one under the leather onslaught.
A few minutes later the object was removed from my anal cavity. The whip across my back was then replaced by a cock in my arsehole. Clay sighed as he grabbed my hips and power-fucked my rear-end. I was sweating like a pig as he humped my arse with a ferocious rhythm. Then, after some ten minutes, he flooded my inner sanctum with his seed.
"You're definitely coming home with us, boy," he said, as he removed his cock from my burning hole. "We're going to fuck you up hills and down dales, and then fuck you some more."
Before we left the van, Stan secured my arms behind my back with handcuffs. The swap was now in full flow, so Harry and Tom were busy treating the straight boy to a "deviant" rape. They no longer required my services, so I was frogmarched across a near-empty car park to another van.
Clay and Stan were hard-nosed bastards, with no redeeming qualities at all. They were both in their early forties, with weather-beaten faces and close-cropped haircuts. They wore black leather outfits, which reeked of oil and grease, and proudly walked behind their naked and submissive fuck-toy.
"Good boy," said Stan, as he opened the van's back door and ordered me inside.
I clambered inside the van and fell flat on my face, with my feet still outside the van. Stan lifted my lower legs and forced them inside. The van door slammed shut as I squirmed around in the dark.
I bumped around in the back of the van for quite a long time. The metal floor was cold and uncomfortable, but I did manage to straighten out my legs by inching myself forward. The handcuffs were cutting into my wrists, so I cursed every time I moved forward.
Suddenly, the van stopped - I figured that we had reached our destination. I heard the men get out, but then nothing. A good while later, I heard a car pull up alongside the van. Voices came and went as the men outside opened and closed car doors, then the van's back door opened and in came another naked boy. He, like me, clambered into the van and fell flat on his face. However, because I was lying there, he had a much softer landing than I did.
"Get your feet up, Gary," said Clay. "Stan wants to try out his new riding crop."
Gary cried out in pain as the leather crop came down on the soles of his bare feet. He was only struck six or seven times, but that was enough to make him black out.
When he came round, he found himself lying beside me - I had forced him off my back with a sharp buck of my arse.
"The bastards like hurting us wimps," he said, "so you better get use to it. I've been held for six months now."
"Six months!" I thought. "No, that can't be right."
"Nearly seven months," he corrected himself. "And don't even think about escaping. They'll light you up like a Christmas tree if you try to run off. Your cock will be giving off sparks when they throw the switch, and they'll probably jolt you up the arse as well."
"Fucking great!" I thought. "Psycho bullies and electricity. Fucking great!"
"Now, can you get up on your knees?" he asked. "In a wedge position. I can probably fuck you in that position, if you raise your arse up high."
I looked at him in disbelief. He wanted to fuck me, even though our wrists were cuffed behind our backs and we were still bumping around in the back of a moving van.
Gary was still after my arse when the van reached its destination. I shuddered when the back door opened and a blast of cold air followed Stan inside. He attached a leash to my leather collar and ordered me out of the van.
"Come on, bitch," he said, as he tugged on the leash. "Lets get you hooked up in the barn for the night. We can start your training in the morning."
My arse-cheeks and back were still hurting as I was led across the farm yard and into an old barn.
"Over here, bitch," he said, as he pulled me over to a spot beneath a timber crossbeam. "Spread your legs."
A large anal hook was shoved into my arsehole and secured to the handcuffs with rope. The remainder of the rope was then thrown over the crossbeam and tied off.
"Right, that should keep you from wandering off," he said, laughing. "Now lets tie the rest of you up."
When he had finished, a dozen or so ropes restrained my entire body. The anal hook kept me from moving too far off the perpendicular, and the ropes ensured that my body wouldn't slump during the night.
"Yes, that should do it," he said. "Now try to stay awake for as long as possible. The ropes will keep you upright; but if your knees go, the hook will go in a tad deeper than intended. So stay alert!"
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