Chicken out and tell Tristan you were just pulling his chain.
From Create Your Own Story
The other end of the line is silent. You're not sure how Tristan is reacting. Suddenly you're struck by nerves -- Tristan is probably thinking you are a total slut! What were you thinking!?
Before your friend can say anything, you interrupt him --
"Haha!" You chuckle nervously. "I got you! I'm just kidding - what are you up to?"
You and Tristan make awkward small talk for about a minute before you end the call.
Len is sitting nearby, his cigarette glowing in the dark. You can see his face -- a mixture of amusement and annoyance. He shakes his head.
"Figured you was all talk, pussyboy. You really got me all worked up there, fucker. Let me show you what I do to little boys who tease me."
Len's smirk grows all the more dark. He takes your shoulders, his hands sliding slowly down your arms, then grips your wrists, hard, tugging them and pressing them together in front of you. He transfers them to one of his large, strong hands, and then reaches into his tool belt with the other and pulls out a thick plastic strap of some kind - you realize as he puts it around your wrists that's it's a zip-tie, something used to keep unruly cables together. He feeds it through its snap and tugs, and your wrists press together.
You look up at him, and swallow, silently begging for mercy. But a part of you knows you deserve this... and it turns you on. Len pulls your wrists and walks you to one of the sawhorses. He stops, kissing you roughly and filling your mouth with the taste of cigarettes. He breaks off the kiss and starts tugging at your belt and your jeans roughly, undoing the zipper and shoving them and your underwear down with one hand. You step out of them, and he smirks as your cock bobs up, free and already wet with precome. He kicks your jeans aside, then tugs your shirt over your head, wrapping it around your bound wrists near your hands.
He pushes you against the sawhorse, and you shiver.
"There's lube and and a condom in my jeans," you say, hands bound in front of you.
"That's nice," he grunts. He undoes his jeans and tugs them open, pulling down his underwear behind the fly and revealing a slightly curved cut cock, about 8 1/2 inches, with a bulbous head. His gloved hand grips his cock for a moment, already hard, and he says, "But I like things natural."
You're startled, and he laughs. One gloved hand grips your chin. "You gonna argue with me, boy? Tied up and alone? Fuckin' teasing me into thinkin' you got another boycunt for me to breed? It's a big house, and no one can hear you..."
You shake your head, more than a little afraid, but your cock is rock hard.
"You want to get bred raw, don't you, fuckboy?" he asks. "You want me to break you in fucking half and fill you right up with my dirty spunk. Give you a gift."
"Yes," you say. It's barely a whisper.
"Turn. The fuck. Around," he says.
You turn around, and Len's gloved hands shove you hard. With your hands tied, there's no way to brace yourself against the sawhorse, so you lean over it awkwardly, your bound hands hanging over the opposite side. Len steps behind you, and the rough gloves slide down your sides, and then your legs. He crouches behind you and takes one ankle, then the other, and ties them with more zip-ties to the legs of the sawhorse. Your legs spread wider than is comfortable, and you rest your stomach on the sawhorse, realizing that you are well and truly at this man's mercy.
Len rises, pressing the heat of his cock against the small of your back. A moment later, the man spits, and some saliva dribbles a bit down your ass crack, and Len runs his gloved fingers up and down, spreading the small amount of spit. When the rough cloth reaches your hole, you moan, and press back against him.
“Eager now, aren’t ya, you little cunt?”
“Yes,” you nearly hiss.
Len doesn’t hesitate. Lining up his bulbous cockhead at your hole, he pushes himself in balls-deep with one rough shove. You cry out, barely managing to curse before one of his gloved hands covers your mouth and grips tight. The other rough glove grabs the back of your head, gripping hair, and he starts to fuck you with piston-like thrusts right away. You cry out into his gloved hand, and he laughs.
"You're the one who came here with a fucking stranger, you fucking cunt fuckboy. You're the one who got me all worked up and then got cold feet," he says. "This is what you deserve." He laughs again. "Besides, I see that fucking dick, boy. You're loving this."
Your eyes water as his dick slams into you again and again, but there's no denying how the heat is spreading inside you now, nor how the pain seems to be turning you on as much as it's hurting you. The sensation of doing this in the half-finished building, naked, with no idea where you are, tied up and at this man's mercy, has you rock hard.
When you stop crying out, slowly adjusting to the rough way he's using your hole, he lets go of your head. He grips your waist with both hands, the cloth rough and gritty against your waist, and with every thrust his balls slap against yours, sending waves of heat through you. You grunt and moan and curse as he plows you, slamming hard against the wood sawhorse, unable to brace yourself. Your cock throbs, but without a hand free to jerk yourself, the pressure builds in your balls without relief.
Len’s thrusts grow rougher, and he starts to speak again as his sweat sprays against the small of your back. "You like that, fuckboy? You like it raw and mean from daddy's dick?"
"Yes!" you gasp. He spits on your face.
"Yeah. You like getting fucked. You like taking a real man's dick, you little whore." He grips you so tightly it's painful, and shoves into you as hard as his stocky frame can, making you cry out again.
You've never been fucked like this. You shove your ass against his onslaught, feeling his cock slam deeper and deeper inside you, sweat dripping from Len's chest onto the small of your back. His thrusts grow wilder, and with a deep grunt, he shoves forward hard, and empties a load in your ass. He holds himself there for a moment, dick spurting in your guts, then pulls out, taking a step back away from the sawhorse. You feel his cum dribble out of your ass a bit, and you stay there a moment, panting. You've never been so turned on before - being treated so rough and dirty! Your cock throbs, wanting release, and you twist your bound wrists, wishing you could jerk yourself off.
You hear Len's lighter click behind you as you spray your cum all over the rough wooden floor. The scent of his cigarette fills the room.
"Happy birthday, fuckboy," he says. You twist your head around, and watch him suck on his smoke. He winks at you.
"I'm not done with you yet," he says. "Maybe I'll call some friends, instead?"
Your eyes widen.
Definitely a birthday you're not going to forget.
(The End - please send feedback to barratboy@yahoo.ca)
