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Seven Hard Hours | Gay Bondage Fiction

Seven Hard…Hours

by Jack

I recently did a seven-hour bondage and orgasm control scene to this hot guy I met over the phone lines. His name is Lee, and he is a cocky, very handsome, extremely well-built little 29 year old fucker.

About 5’9″, 175 lbs. smooth Chelsea gymboy jock. He was real horny. He said that he was usually a top, but was in the mood to be tied up and have a guy work him over. I was more than happy to oblige

He showed up here at my place at 2:00 p.m., and he was indeed a hot guy. He is so good-looking and muscular, that he can have any guy he wants. That makes him very cocky and rude to guys, which he admitted he always is (you know the type), so I proceeded to do some “attitude adjustment” on him. I slowly broke him down with some heavy bondage and some heavy work on his tits, cock and balls, and butt. He was fairly ticklish, and as the session went on, he got more and more ticklish.

After an hour of being tied standing spread-eagle to my bondage frame and having his body mercilessly teased and tickled, I moved him to a tight spread- eagle position on his back on the floor. It was then that he confided to me that he had always dreamed of having a guy tie him up and tease his dick for a long time, without letting him shoot. I looked him in the eye and said, “Boy, your dreams are about to come true.” He really didn’t realize what he was in for.

For the next several hours, I did nothing but tease and stimulate his hard dick, with some occasional work on his tits, feet, and butt. I would repeatedly get him close to shooting, then back off. At the times when he was not gagged, he would complain that his “Knob” as he referred to it, was getting painfully sensitive from all the attention it was receiving. Poor guy!

As you can imagine, for the rest of the time, I concentrated on the head of his dick, making his “knob” more and more sensitive.

Throughout the whole scene, I tied him into about six major bondage positions, with only three very short rest periods in between, always with his hands tied behind his back, so he couldn’t play with himself. He was in such good shape that he could take some of my more extreme bondage for a lot longer than most guys usually can. Besides the bondage frame, and the tight spread-eagle on the floor, I had him on his knees, legs spread, ankles tied off, wrists tied and yanked way up his back, collar on, wrists and collar attached to a chain from the ceiling, forcing him into an awkward position, with his cock and balls very vulnerable.

One of the times I had him spread-eagled on his back on the floor, I decided to try my feather duster on his sensitive dickhead. I tied a wooden dowel across the tops of his upper thighs, and then tied his cock and balls to the center of the dowel. This forced his hard cock to stick straight up in the air, and to remain fairly motionless. I suspended my feather duster from a cord in the ceiling, and positioned it right over his “knob”, and let it swing. The effect was pretty amazing. He was trying to buck away from it, moaning, and his dick was throbbing and leaking like crazy . Of course, this was not enough to make him cum, but it did the job of constantly stimulating him. It also gave me some much-needed down time, to relax, have a smoke and a beer, and to just sit back and enjoy the show. I have an electric fan in my room, and the breeze from the fan was just enough to keep the feather duster in some kind of motion. In a New York apartment, we use what we have available.

For another extended period, I had him on his belly on my bondage board, which I have told you about, with his cock and balls forced through the hole and tied off, his cock pointing straight down toward the floor. Lots of stop and go jerk off, plus a little surprise for his knob.

I had been using various implements on the head of his dick, including feathers, a toothbrush, a pot scrubber, and his least favorite, an old hairbrush with sharp, brittle bristles. While his dick was hard and straining, pointing down through the hole in the board, I placed a chair under the board and positioned the hairbrush on it so that the tip of his dick would just lightly poke into the stationary bristles when his dick was hard. He was howling and trying to thrash around, trying to avoid the unbearable stimulation of the bristles on the tip of his dick, but he was tied down real good (you know me, right?). His dick would then start to get a little soft, so all I had to do was to approach, stroke his dick a few times, with either my finger or a feather, it would get hard again, and the tip would once again touch the brush. This went on and on for nearly an hour, and the poor guy was going nuts. But I think he was learning his lesson about not being such a shithead to guys he’d meet in the future.

I took him through several more bondage ordeals, but he finally ended up spread-eagled on his back on the bed. I had told him that he was not gonna shoot his load until it got dark out, and it was about 8:00 p.m., almost an hour before dark.

As I had been playing with his dick for so long, it was obvious that the only way he was gonna shoot was to have both the shaft of his dick and especially the head masturbated continuously until he shot. I decided that his knob had received enough attention for a while, and knowing that he needed stimulation there in order to shoot, I proceeded to remove all stimulation to his cock head. I took two condoms, and unrolled them just over the head of his dick, then took a rubber band, tripled it, and slid it down just behind his glans, securing the condoms in place. This effectively deadened his knob to most stimulation. I then proceeded to just tease and stroke the shaft of his dick for over a half an hour, paying absolutely no attention to the covered head of his dick. This, mixed in with some pretty merciless tickling of his helpless bare feet, armpits and ribs. Man, he was going crazy. He was begging me to stroke the head of his cock and finally get him off. I, of course, just smiled. As it got darker and darker out, I was enjoying prolonging this.

Close to 9:00 p.m., I finally went for the kill. I removed the condoms from dick head, and immediately gave it the toothbrush treatment, which, after not being stimulated for so long, was even more sensitive, and it had him howling. I’m afraid I had to gag him again at this point, using one of my old jockstraps. I finally greased up his dick (and mine!) and taking about a half an hour of very slow, stop and go jerking, finally made him shoot.

It was a gut-wrenching load, and I know that he felt it through his entire body. Mine wasn’t too shabby, either.

I then released him, and after he recovered for a while, he dressed and left. I called him once, but so far, no response. I’ll probably never see him again, but man, what an excellent scene.

I would like to get into more scenes like that. It is fun to fantasize about them, but even more fun to do them in real life. Now, I know that seven hours does not seem like much to you, but with our busy New York schedules, that is actually a pretty good session.

So, guys, share your thoughts on this aspect of a tickling scene.

Jack

[email protected]

| Gay Bondage Fiction

http://gaybondagefiction.com/seven-hard-hours/

[aussiefilthyboy-deactivated2023]

I’d love to endure and suffer the same 7 hours as this guy

[remnant2]

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“You ain’t gonna tell nobody about this, right?” Travis asked, fumbling to remove his jeans in my darkened bedroom, the bright hallway light illuminating every ripple of his toned body.

“Nah—I won’t tell nobody,” I assured him. “Now get that big dick in me.”

Travis Madden had been the hottest guy at my high school. Every girl in school had a major crush on him—us closeted guys, too. But Missy Patterson had been the lucky one to lasso his heart. They dated all through senior year until she left for school at State, giving him her class ring to wear around his neck to ward off any bitch who desired him. It didn’t work.

After graduation, Travis and I got jobs on the same construction crew. Every Monday morning, the guys would press Travis for details on all the weekend pussy he was getting behind Missy’s back. From the way Travis talked, he was dipping his stick all over the county. Who could blame him? Travis was rumored to be hung like fuck. And if you’ve got a big dick—why not use it?

So I wasn’t all that shocked or surprised when Travis booty texted me at 1 am one Friday night—mistaking me for one of the many bitches in his contacts list who would spread her legs for him at a moment’s notice.

“Hey babe. You DTF tonite?” his message flashed on my phone.

I decided to ignore the text, not wanting to embarrass Travis. But he was persistent.

“Come on babe. I’m horny as fuck. I need me some pussy,” he texted not two minutes later.

Tapping out a reply to inform Travis that he had the wrong number, I was startled when my phone rang suddenly—Travis’s number coming up on the screen. I answered the call, but before I could say a word—

“Bitch—why are you ignoring my texts?” Travis demanded. “You wanna fuck tonight or not?”

“Travis, this is Mark—from work,” I explained. “You’ve been booty texting me by mistake.”

“Fuck, man,” Travis laughed drunkenly. “My bad, dude. I’m just trying to get some snatch. My balls are gonna fuckin’ pop if I don’t get me some pussy tonight.”

“You wanna come over?” I suggested flatly. “You can fuck my pussy—empty those balls in me.”

A prolonged silence followed my offer. I thought Travis had ended the call, but then I heard the muffled sounds of pussy porn playing in the background—a bitch moaning and some dude grunting at a synchronized pace.

“You—uh—you serious about this?” Travis finally asked, his voice a near whisper. “You take cock, like, up the ass?”

“Yeah—I mean, I don’t want the guys at work to know,” I admitted, “but I fucking love it up the ass. You think you might wanna fuck me?”

“Uh—yeah,” Travis agreed hesitantly. “I guess I’m down to try it.”

“Where are you now?” I asked. “You sound buzzed. You okay to drive?”

“I’m at my parents’ house. I—uh—I still live with them,” Travis shared awkwardly. “But I’m cool to drive. I’ve only had two beers.”

Ten minutes later, I could hear Travis’s truck crunching the gravel parking pad outside my apartment. I had left the door unlocked and told him I’d be prepped and ready on the bed. My ass twitched as I heard the front door opening, and then the heavy step of Travis’s boots in the hallway.

“You ain’t gonna tell nobody about this, right?” Travis asked, fumbling to remove his jeans in my darkened bedroom, the bright hallway light illuminating every ripple of his toned body. Fuck, he was beautiful.

“Nah—I won’t tell nobody,” I assured him, perching myself at the edge of the bed, presenting my hole for his use. “Now get that big dick in me.”

Turning my face towards him, I could see that Travis was already rock hard. And the rumors were true—he was hung like fuck. His cock looked to be easily north of nine inches, straight as an arrow, with a prominent vein running along one side of his thick shaft. Fuck, I wanted that cock inside me.

“You want me to wrap it?” Travis asked, his eyes scanning my bed table for a condom.

“Nah, you can raw dog me,” I directed. “And then dump your load up my ass.”

“Damn, that’s hot,” he exclaimed. “None of the bitches in this town will take it raw. Even Missy makes me wrap it—and she’s on the fuckin’ pill.”

Stepping up to the plate, Travis inserted a finger into my already-lubed hole, giving a low whistle upon discovering that my warm, wet cunt was ripe and ready for him. Withdrawing his finger, his hands went to my hips, gaining purchase as he prepared to—WHAM—his big cock was suddenly inside me.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Travis exclaimed, grinding his cock inside me in a circular motion as he opened and stretched my hole.

“Push it in all the way,” I commanded. “See how far you can go.”

“Holy fuck,” he marveled, thrusting all the way inside my endless void, his balls mashed against my accommodating hole. “I’ve never been able to go balls deep in pussy.”

“I bet you’ll find my hole can do a lot more than pussy,” I winked back at him.

Taking up the challenge, Travis moved his hands to my shoulders and began to pummel my ass. Damn, the boy had some moves—alternating with deep and shallow thrusts as he began to own my ass. The whole bed shook as he pounded my cunt to a pulp. His strength was incredible. I’d never been fucked with such driving intensity.

Wrapping his arms around my torso, Travis pushed his body into mine. Missy’s class ring, hanging from the chain on his neck, was grazing my back with each thrust of his cock. I wondered what she would think if she knew her beloved boyfriend had his big dick up my ass. As Travis continued his assault on my hole, jackhammering the shit out of me, I imagined him fucking Missy with a condom, prohibited from seeding her in the way he would soon seed me—almost immediately, in fact.

As if on cue, Travis’s breathing intensified. “Fuck, dude. I’m ‘bout to bust,” he warned urgently. Bucking like a bronco, his body thrashed as his cock pulsed and released his warm load in my depths. “FUCK … SHIT,” he grunted, collapsing on top of me as his balls emptied.

We stayed that way on the bed, our sweaty bodies melded as one, until Travis finally pushed himself up, withdrawing himself from me, his cum dripping onto the sheet from my wrecked hole.

“I like your apartment,” Travis announced, sitting up and taking in my bedroom as he stroked my back. “I need to move out of my parents’ house. You think you might want a roommate?”

“Definitely,” I answered, trying to hide my excitement. “But this is a one-bedroom unit. We’d have to share the bed.”

“I see no problem in sharing a bed,” Travis replied, rolling me over onto my back as he spread my legs and pushed his big cock back inside my used, cummy hole.

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

[aussiefilthyboy-deactivated2023]

Fuck, I wish I had me a Travis