Gay Erotic Stories

My hand was quivering a bit with excitement as I downshifted and went through the auto-toll lane. On the other side of the toll island was the toll road. I was excited and apprehensive because I had never done this before. No! No! I am not talking about driving on a turnpike! Been there, done that many times! No, I was taking the toll road to the campground. I had never been to the campground before. I had seen a link to it from a guy’s profile and I had followed the link. I discovered that the campground was not too far away from my home. The website advertised that there were day rates as well as overnight rates. I was going there to spend the day. I was going there to check it out. Oh, didn’t I tell you? The campground was also advertised as an exclusively male campground. It was clothing optional and mentioned that there was a private play area. It had regular rules and disclaimers, all of which seemed appropriate. There were no pictures of the place, but the descriptions let your mind wander to wonderful possibilities. I just had to check it out. I needed an outlet. I was not out and I needed a safe and convenient place to meet others and to play. That is why my hand was quivering. I was filled with apprehension about what I might find. I pulled out onto the highway and started to accelerate. It would take me nearly two hours to get there. I hoped I had covered my absence well enough. I told my family that I was going with a friend to check out a property. It was true that I had a friend who was looking for a summer home in the general area. But he wasn’t along on this trip. I motored along for about an hour and a half. My heart rate returned to normal until I began to approach my toll road exit. My heart was pounding as I left the toll plaza and turned east onto the state road. Two miles and then I turned left. A mile later I spied the small sign that signaled the campground. I had noted on their website that the road would be marked with this sign. Since this was a private campground, there was no overt ad or sign that would suggest to the mainstream population that it was a business open to them. I turned onto the property and started down the lane. The tall trees and thick underbrush insured privacy from prying eyes. I approached the rustic camp office. The regulations specified that you had to stop and register at the office. I also understood that I would have to take out a season membership in order to use the facilities. The fees listed on the website seemed very reasonable. I parked the car in the day-use area and went into the office. All I could hear was a drum pounding. It was my heart. On my journey from the car to the office, I glanced around. Through the trees I could see campers and tents. Here and there the rising smoke of a campfire was caught in the rays of the sunlight. There were some campers milling around the sites. Some I could see were naked, but I could sense from their demeanor that the nakedness was taken matter-of-factly. I was not aware of any man-to-man action going on. As I entered the office, I saw a man standing behind the counter. He stood shirtless and in flip-flop sandals but had a pair of swimming trunks on. He was a guy in his late 40’s with salt and pepper hair on his chest. He was of average build, not a gorgeous hunk, but not unattractive either. The man behind the counter greeted me and asked if he could help me. I explained to him how I had learned about the campground and how I was hoping to obtain a guest pass to spend part of the day. He told me that the sites were booked, but that they could accommodate a few day campers. He had me fill out the registration form and took the nominal fee for the membership and for the day-use privileges. He then explained the policies of the campground to me and showed me a map of the grounds. He pointed out areas that were open to the clothing optional policies, but not to public displays of sexual acts. He pointed out the play area and the areas open to public man-to-man encounters. I quickly took note of where these areas were. I asked the man if there were lockers for day-campers and he directed me to a wall of lockers. I selected one and proceeded to place my valuables and then my clothing in the locker. I locked it up and then put the elastic band on the key around my wrist so that I would not lose it. I was wearing nothing but my black leather boots with boot socks. I began to explore the campground and started with the camping area. You had to go through that area to get to the public play area. I am a man in my mid-50s. I am an older hairy bear about six feet tall. I run about 240 pounds. From all the anxiety about getting here, my cock had performed its marvelous “disappearing act”. But now that I was relaxing a bit and now that I was wandering around in the warmth of the day, my man was starting to show himself in public. I leisurely walked among the campsites. From time to time I could see the faces of men peering out the camper windows as I passed by. A few men were relaxing on folding chairs under the camper awnings. Some were naked. Some were really hot looking men. Some were not. Some of the nude guys fondled their dicks as I went past. Some said hi. As I walked along the road I looked up to see one camper in a distant site looking at me. Even from a distance he looked like a hot guy. I was pretty sure that I saw him start to rub his crotch as he looked at me. I saw him look away and so I continued to survey the other sites as I walked along the road. A short time later I looked up again and saw him looking at me again. I was closer now and I was sure that he was playing with himself as he eyed me up. This time he did not look away. His eyes locked on mine and I began to walk directly toward him. When I came within a distance at which we could clearly distinguish facial features and expressions, I smiled and nodded at him. He maintained a serious expression and nodded in acknowledgement without disengaging his eyes. I was beginning to get the sensation that he was drawing me to himself solely with the power of his stare. I wiped the smile from my face and continued to walk to him. He was reclining in a chaise lounge outside his camper. He was within the shade of the awning, but close enough to the edge that the brightness of the day illuminated his naked body. He had a pair of mirrored sunglasses, but it seemed that his eyes pierced the shades and beamed in on their object, which happened to have been me. His head was razor shaved. Sideburns started near the top of his ears and spread along his ears onto his cheeks. On his cheeks the sideburns widened. They ended in a diagonal line that pointed to his chin and that stretched from the bottom of his ear lobe to his mid cheek. His face was somewhat squarish, but his chin jutted down in a kind of point. He had a neatly trimmed moustache and goatee that accented his chin. His skin was nicely tanned and lean. A thick neck led from the base of his ears to his solid shoulders. His thick dark chest hair began at a line that encircled the base of his neck. It said that his true hairiness continued up his neck, but that his shaving held it at bay at the top of his chest. I was certain that thick tufts of curly dark hair would peek over any of his shirt collars. The solid shoulders extended broadly to the tops of strong upper arms. Thick defined triceps were matched with bulging biceps; at his elbow massive forearms rippled with their sinews down to massive strong hands. Dark fur lined the forearms. The dark thick curly hair cascaded like a waterfall over the man’s huge pecs. The nipples of an ordinary man would have been buried deep beneath this hair, but his nipples shot out prominently from his pecs and stood proudly above the tree line of his forest of chest hair. The hair extended to his abs where it seemed to lay in individual thick patches on each segment of his well-defined six-pack. On his lower abs the hair grew immensely thick as it gathered to welcome his manhood. Out of this plush carpet of pubic hair a long thick snake lay lazily between his separated thighs. Behind the snake were two very large hairy man-eggs. The looseness of the skin sac said that they would hang heavy and low, well below his dick head, were he to stand upright. For now the snake’s head lay quietly over its eggs. His thighs and calves, covered like his forearms, were thick and strong. I continued to approach him and I was entering his campsite. He had not spoken a word, but his gaze was still fixed on mine. I came to within a few feet of him. He reached between his legs to the support on the chaise lounge that propped the leg rest up. Even though his legs straddled this leg rest and his feet were squarely on the ground, the leg rest was still propped up in a horizontal position level with his ass. He smoothly reached under the front of the chaise and pulled the supports back. This action had the effect of lowering far end of the leg support to the ground and removing or lessening an obstacle to access to his groin. He drilled from his shades through mine to my eyes. He said nothing, but I knew. I slowly knelt down immediately in front of him. My knees touched the edge of the lowered leg support on the ground. I never broke eye contact with him. He leaned forward and stuck his left index finger into my mouth. I closed my lips around his finger and began to suck on it gently but firmly. He nodded affirmatively but did not otherwise change the expression on his face. He then took his right hand and began to trace through my own hairy chest and around the circumference of each of my nips. He pinched and twisted them and I began to moan with pleasure. I could feel my dick hardening as he did this. I could not see the effect of what we were doing on the man himself because I was still transfixed by his eyes. He moved his hand to behind my head and with steady and firm pressure he lowered my head and aimed my face for his lap. I could now see that the massive man-tool between his legs had ceased to be a slithering snake and had become a surging, throbbing, rigid log of meat. I opened my mouth to receive his head and wondered if I had either a mouth or throat large enough to please him. By the pressure of his strong hairy hand he manipulated my head to accept all of what he was. It was tough, and at first I had difficulty when he started down my throat. I was bent over him and this tended to constrict my throat. I gagged a bit and he eased the pressure of his hand for a moment. He soon resumed and it was clear that I needed to find a way to relax my throat to accept him, even in this position. He was determined that I was to take all of him, and whether I could breathe in the process was my own problem. It was not long until I controlled my reflexes enough to relax and we began to make excellent progress. My nose was buried in his thick pubic hair and I began then to wonder if I would not suffocate in that hairy blanket. He grabbed my ears like jug handles and began to pump in and out of my throat. Once I got used to that action, I was able to constrict and loosen my throat muscles. With this throat muscle action, my throat was acting like a giant fist stroking his cock. I conjured up as much saliva as I could to make that man-muscle in my throat as slick and as slippery as possible. I used my tongue and lips to add increased stimulation. By the loud grunts and groans coming from this hairy hunk I knew I was doing something right. I could feel him relax and lean back against the chaise while he still held onto my ears and used my head as his private fuck pussy. He settled in for the long haul and I knew that I would be pleasuring him for quite a while. That did not upset me. I was getting the chance of a lifetime to service one of the most masculine hunks I had ever laid eyes on. Despite my concentration on the business at hand, I was able to enjoy his deep masculine scent and taste. I may have been the one being face-fucked and he may have been the one groaning on the road to climax, but I was in a man-heaven all my own. As the two of us continued to dwell in our own private planet of pleasure, I sensed others gathering around us. Daring to break concentration and to look out of the corner of my eye, I could see a circle of mostly naked men gathering around us and could hear their moans and sighs. Most of them had their cocks out and were stroking, and some still in shorts were rubbing their crotches. One came close enough and began to rub my back, sides, and arms with his strong hands, while hissing “O yeah!” over and over. I looked back towards my handsome hunk. I strained my eyes upward to see his face and could tell that he was oblivious to anything beside what was going on between his legs. I looked forward into his lower abs and I could see the telltale signs of the muscular labor pains that lead to orgasm. His chest began to heave and I awaited my reward. It was not long before his moans and sighs turned into growls and gasps, and I struck pay dirt. The thick man-udder upon which I had been feasting I now milked with my throat. Spasm after spasm of hot cum shot down my throat. I sucked for all I was worth. I wanted not to spill any of his precious cream and I did not want to leave any of it behind. I wanted this hunk dry. If I could have, I would have sucked him until those gonads collapsed in on themselves, shriveled and dry. My hunk lay spent and I relaxed my throat as he softened. He began to slip out. As his manhood flopped out of my mouth, he grabbed my head again and pulled me forward onto his chest and to his mouth. He rammed his tongue down my throat and tasted the residue of his own sperm that had remained. Our tongues fought in passion to secure our lust. The hunk’s hard buttons punctured my own nipples and chest, and I tingled with the feel of his thick chest hair against mine. His hands roamed my body and found my ass cheeks. There the hands lingered to rub and grab them. Occasionally my hunk would startle me with a manly slap to set my back cheeks on fire and drive my raging dick into his crotch. He broke our kiss and while I lay on his chest, he reached over to a small table beside him and grabbed a leather slave collar. My hunk was marking me as his. I looked him in the eyes as he held it before my face. I lowered my eyes in assent and acceptance. The men around us cheered as the hunk quietly secured the broad leather belt around my neck. He said nothing; I said nothing. The collar had three D-rings embedded in it. One ring was at each side of my neck and one at my Adam’s apple. He reached to the table again and held up a dog’s choker chain. At the one end was a small, but not inconsequential padlock. I nodded yes this time and he placed the chain around my neck and joined the two end rings using the padlock. When the padlock clicked shut, another cheer arose from the hot horny men surrounding us. My hunk had claimed me as his own. I was his possession. My body no longer belonged to me. He could do to me and with me as he wished. Furthermore, no one else had a right to approach me or to use me in anyway without his express permission. I understood that without it ever having been said. I heard some of the men mutter “lucky guy” and “wish he were mine”. I did not know if they were referring to me or to my master. I knew from my perspective that I was the lucky one. I felt that others would have gladly been in my place as a slave to my new master. Many of the men started to disperse. Some of them went away arm in arm and kissing. I guessed that there would be some more hot scenes at some of the campers within minutes. I just lay still in my master’s arms as he rubbed my back. From time to time he would lean down and kiss me. My raging hard slave meat stuck straight out from my bent-over body and pointed to the ground. I could feel it dripping pre-cum onto the ground. It screamed for release, but I was content knowing that my master would determine its time. My hairy master put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back down onto my knees. I sat at the foot of the chaise lounge much as a dog would sit at attention. I was on my knees. My ass cheeks were at my ankles. My back was straight. My hands were at my side. My still throbbing cock pressed out from my groin and was parallel to the ground. The locked dog collar hung around my neck like a thick necklace for which the padlock was the locket. My black leather slave collar was tight and wide enough that it kept my head high and my neck straight. The master stood up from the chaise and rubbed his balls in satisfaction. He reached down with his hand and rubbed my head, saying, “Good boy.” I was happy to have pleased him so with my first effort. I was a happy slave. I had come to explore the campground, and I had not gone far when I had found a fine master. The master went into his trailer. I heard him rummaging through some things. I had my back to the trailer, but I did not turn around. I stayed where my master had placed me. In a few minutes I heard him return and I also heard him place some items in a bag on the picnic table behind me. He came around in front of me and handed me a beer. He had one for himself, too. I thanked the master profusely and he nodded that I should drink it. He sat back down on the lounge and sipped his drink. I drank my beer a bit greedily I admit. I had built up quite a thirst in my efforts to please the master. The warmth of the day was also making me thirsty. The master finished his beer and stood up again. He took my empty can and threw the cans into a recycling bin. He grabbed a leash from the bag on the picnic table and attached it to the front D-ring on my collar. He then jerked on the leash indicating that I should stand upright. I did so promptly. As I stood there he attached a leather cock ring with ball stretcher/spreader to my engorged dick. He skillfully put the cock ring on first and with his manly strength, he pulled it tight and snapped it shut. He had enough strength that the ring was snapped at its smallest diameter. Immediately my dick turned almost black with the pressure and the head swelled, shone, and throbbed. Next he grabbed my balls and jerked them violently downward. I winced in pain. My master, seeing me wince, shouted angrily at me, “Take it, slave!” At the same instant he snapped the leather sheath around the sac below my cock and above my balls. I was actually grateful for this painful separation because I knew it would delay my climax and make it more intense. I also knew that climax would come only whenever my master would decide to allow me the release that a real man knows. Finally he ran the separator strap between my two balls and snapped it into the tightest position on the sheath. My balls were now two clearly separated dark purple orbs straining in their confinement. The pain of my excitement was incredible! My body already was screaming to be released from its bonds and my balls were aching to cum. My spirit was, however, determined to be subject to my master. This was not my body. These were not my balls. My master went to the table and picked up the bag. He took the end of my leash and started walking away. I followed behind. As we walked through the campsites some of them men nodded to my master. I heard some of them make comments to each other about me and about the state that I was in. I mentally tried to follow our journey through the camping area in light of the map that the man in the office had shown me. It was not long until I surmised that we were heading for the public play area. My mind started to swirl with the thoughts of what might happen there. Soon enough we came into a kind of clearing. It was a large field surrounded by tall trees. The limbs of the trees arched over the area and toward each other forming a large cathedral ceiling of shade. The dense underbrush made it a very private area, hidden from eyes that may not want to see what went on here. I thought I also saw a large, high wooden fence beyond the brush to prevent the entry of outsiders. The grass in the large field made a comfortable carpet underfoot. The grass was kept under appropriate control by mowing but not with the fastidiousness of a golf course. It was a pleasant, natural area. I could see as I looked around the field that there were what appeared to be a series of fitness stations. I had seen these fitness stations in public municipal parks. People would go to these parks and do a fitness circuit. At one station they would stretch, at another they would do push ups, etc. The stations were made of wooden posts and metal poles to accommodate the particular exercise. They were much like an adult version of swings or sliding boards. My master continued to lead me across the field. He headed for one of the fitness stations, but as we drew near I came quickly to understand that the term “adult version,” although appropriate, held a very different meaning for these “fitness stations.” I took a more serious look at the stations around the field and took a closer look at the men who were at them and what they were doing. If my dick had softened at all (which I do not think it had), it swelled again to maximum hardness. There were men at each station. From action and body language I could determine that some were playing as equals; some were masters; others were slaves. There were a variety of activities. Some men were making love to each other. Some men were acting out scenes of bondage or of sado-masochism. In whatever direction you looked there was hot action. The station that my master chose was centered around two upright posts that were about ten feet apart. Each of the posts was about the diameter of telephone poles but stood only about ten feet high. They were anchored solidly in the ground. Along the length each post on the side that faced the other post there was a series of pulleys and large eye bolts. My master led me to the area between the two posts. He took his booted foot and kicked at each of my boots indicating that I should stretch my legs apart. He took each of my hands and brought them together at the small of my back, but did not secure them. He reached into the bag and pulled out wrist and ankle cuffs that he buckled on me as I stood there. He grabbed the thick ropes that were already threaded through the top pulleys and snapped them onto my wrist cuffs. He pulled on the opposite end of the ropes until my arms were stretched up and out from my body. He tied the ropes onto the posts. He threaded ropes through the pulleys at the bottom of the posts and snapped the one end of each rope to the ankle cuffs. Pulling on the ropes he stretched my already spread legs even further apart. I could feel the strain in my groin and pelvis as my feet were pulled more and more. My throbbing cock, which had seemed quite vulnerable before, now hung totally helpless between my legs inviting abuse. When my master was finished, my body was stretched in an awkward spread eagle to the point that I could no longer maintain my balance with my feet. I began to sway back and forth a bit trying to steady myself when at last I relaxed and let the ropes hold me. My master readjusted the tension on the ropes to take up any slack. I was totally suspended from and supported by the ropes. I was totally at my master’s mercy. From his bag the master took a large iron weight. It was shaped much like a line weight for a fishing line, but was much, much larger. I quickly estimated that it weighed about five pounds. He held it for a moment before my eyes and then he squatted on his knees in front of me, his head at the level of my cock. He took the weight and hooked it onto the small D-ring at the bottom of the leather strap that was separating my balls. At first he supported it with his hand and jiggled it up and down a bit. I bent my head over to look down at what he was doing, as best as I could. He looked up at me and watched my expression as he jiggled the weight up and down a bit. He was teasing me with the tension of the weight. Suddenly he lifted the weight up, and while watching my face, he let the weight drop with the full force and downward acceleration of gravity. The immediate pain was intense and I screamed. He stood up and gave me a backhand across my face: “Learn to take it, bitch!” As the weight hung, it swung a bit without much movement, but as the moments passed, my gonads adjusted to the pain and the pull. The master twisted and pinched my nips through my hairy chest and my nips stood at attention. He took two angry looking alligator clips from the bag and snapped them onto both of my erect nipples at the same time. I gritted my teeth and tried not to flinch, but was not totally successful. The master stared angrily into my eyes, but said nothing. He added other fishing weights to these clips, increasing the bite and the downward pull. These weights were only about one half pound each, but they made my nipples point straight down when the master let go. The initial pain subsided as I adjusted to the presence and power of the clips. As the master worked me over, there was some natural movement in my body. This movement would propel the weights at my nips and balls to swing back and forth and to jiggle. As my body tolerated the pain, the movement of these weights provided additional erotic stimulation to me. My master stepped back and looked me over. He seemed pleased with his efforts so far. He retrieved a gag from the bag and proceeded to put it into my mouth. The gag was shaped like a thick man’s cock. It was very realistic looking complete with large mushroom head and veiny shaft. It stood about 4 inches in length from its base on a leather strap. When it was inserted into my mouth, it was thick enough to extend my jaw to its limits and to reach fully to the back of my throat. There was little I could do but suck on it and bathe it with my tongue. I could breathe through my nose and make some guttural sounds with my throat, but I could not speak. The wide strap was place around my head and fastened tightly at the back of my head. After only a few minutes of it in my mouth I was involuntarily sucking on it much as a baby sucks on a pacifier. “That should quiet you down a bit,” the master said, “and stop that sissy bitchy whining from out of your whoring mouth.” The master placed a hood on my head. It was not a full hood. It had more of the style of an executioner’s hood. It covered the top of my head down to my nose and back to the back of my neck. There were eyeholes for me to see, but I noticed that it was also fitted with snaps for a blindfold. My master then handled a strange looking device. As I watched him I determined that it was a cock cage, a chastity device. He proceeded to force my engorged cock and swollen balls through the small hole in an inverted leather triangle that would fit flush against my public hair. From the two corners of the top of the triangle, leather straps went around my waist like a belt. The master fastened the two straps together at my back. From the tip of the triangle hung a metal cage-like device that was shaped somewhat like a half moon. The master grabbed my very sore member and started to manipulate it into this cage. My sheathed and separated balls were forced through a kind of cock ring attached to the leather backing. This ring served to pull and to hold my balls further downward. Meanwhile my hard-as-steel prick was forced upward through a series of rings at the top of this inverted leather triangle. These rings bound my cock upward and flat against my lower abdomen. The upward pull on my cock and the downward pull on my balls added increased painful stress. It was forcing my manhood to stretch its parts in directions that were contrary to its inclination. The master then swung the cock cage over his handiwork and secured it with a small padlock. My manhood was imprisoned and in pain. At the time I understood that my master had incarcerated my slave meat to enforce my chastity. I would later learn that he did it to protect the jewel of his new property. Before I was to learn that lesson, my master had another task. He fetched a large black butt plug from the items he had brought. He was kind enough to also grab a bottle of lube. He moved behind me and I soon felt a glob of cool lube being pressed between my legs and aimed at my anus. Fingers, one at first, then two, then three, worked the lube into my crack and up my chute. The pressure of a large blunt object was applied to my back door. My master was pressing the butt plug up my ass. He pressed and relaxed the pressure at first as if to ease the black monster into me. But the pressure became relentless as my body resisted the intrusion. There was a sudden forceful thrust, searing pain, and the butt plug was in me. My sphincter quickly closed around the neck and sucked the intruder into my dark cave. Had it not been for the phalange at the end of the plug, it would have been totally engulfed within me. The length and the size of the plug combined to put extreme pressure on my prostate. This pressure brought both the pleasure of the prostate ad the agony of unfulfilled climax. That he had caged my cock for protection and not for chastity I learned when he grabbed his flogger. Slowly and gently at first he pummeled my body. He started with my chest, but quickly moved to flail nearly every inch of my body. Within minutes my back was a mass of red zebra stripes. My ass was bright fire. My abs glowed with the hits. The back of my thighs, my quads, my calves – everything was slashed and teased in rapid succession. Although from time to time an end of the flogger would sneak through the bars of my cock cage and sting my manhood, for the most part, my dick was protect from my master’s fury by the cage. The whipping became so intense and with it the pain and discomfort that tears rolled down my cheeks. I could not cry out. I even tried to stifle all moans because I did not want to displease my master. I wanted to be a good slave. I also wanted to show my gratitude that he had not taken out his wrath in this way on my dick. Then I remembered: It was not my dick anymore; it was his. The lashing continued for a while. A small crowd gathered to encourage my master and me. I could see a number of leather-clad masters standing and stroking their cocks. At their feet, kneeling and with their heads against their masters’ thighs, their slaves looked on with rigid but untouched cocks. I wondered how many of them envied my position. My master finally stopped the lashing. He approached me, unfastened the gag, and removed it from my mouth. He grabbed the back of my head with his hand and planted his mouth on mine. His tongue probed the inner depths of my mouth and I tried to suck it as I had the gag. He reached behind me with his other hand and grabbed the end of the butt plug. He began to wiggle and thrust it in and out as we kissed. He broke the kiss and replaced the gag in my mouth. He summoned some of his fellow masters. He had them loosen and unclip my arms and legs while he waited to catch me in his strong hairy arms. As I was freed, I collapsed onto my master’s thick chest hair. I wanted to kiss him in gratitude for the hot session but I could not because of my mouth gag. I just hugged him. With my arms around his neck, my master scooped my thighs with his left forearm, throwing my legs up and against his left hip. With his right arm he encircled my back. Carrying me in this position, my master took me to another station. When we arrived, he stood me momentarily on my feet. He bent me forward at the waist over a contraption that resembled a part of a telephone pole laid horizontally. The horizontal post was padded with black leather and stood on legs to be a little less than waist high. He attached my wrists and legs to the clips on the post’s support legs. My plugged ass was completely exposed and vulnerable. My caged cock was buried deeply within the leather padding, but the cage was so designed that it prevented any contact of my cock with the leather. There would be no chance for me to rub my dick on the leather to reach climax. The weights on my nips swung in the breeze and pulled my nipples upward now. Within seconds of securing my wrists, my master grabbed the phalange of the plug and yanked it out suddenly. My ass was on fire from the sudden stretching followed by emptiness. My master thrust his tool into my loosened hole. I was immobile and gagged. There was not much more for me to do but to enjoy the ride. My master rode me hard. The crowd that had followed him cheered him on and that made the man hotter and hornier. I could feel his balls slapping my ass cheeks without mercy. One of his friends decided to get in on the action too. He moved to my face, handing down on the other side of the post. He unbuckled the gag and removed it. The friend squatted at the knees a bit, pulled up my head by the hood, and shoved his rod down my throat. I sucked for all I was worth. Soon a line formed behind him. Everyone seemed to want a piece of me. The guys in the line kept begging for their turn, but the first friend stayed until he came. Squirt upon squirt of man-juice flowed into my mouth and throat. He lingered for a while until I sucked him clean, then he pulled out. The next guy in line followed suit. I would suck each of them to climax. I must have taken ten additional loads by mouth that day. Meanwhile my ass was being “master-stretched.” At long last I could feel my master’s pace change and it was not long until he emptied himself into me. He collapsed on my back as he sent the last of his love into my canal. He kissed me passionately on my back and on the back of my neck. When he regained his strength, he released my ankles and wrists and stood me up. I thought we might be going to another station. This move did not happen. I was turned around and I was laid on my back along the length of the horizontal post. My arms were snapped to hooks at one end of the post and my ankle were draped on either side of the post and refastened to the support legs. The effect was another example of immobility and exposure. I was on my back with my face, chest, and cock toward the sun. The post came through my legs like a giant cock itself. My legs were tucked away and my arms pulled up and out of the way. Through all of these sessions, the manhood that had once belonged to me was rigidly hard and screaming for release. My master fetched the padlock key and released the cage that confined my dick. He loosened a snap at the top and bottom of the leather triangle. This action released the additional rings that had fastened my balls and my dick to the leather. The rings then slipped up and over the rod and down and off the balls. With another two snaps the triangle separated and the chastity device was completely removed. My manhood was free except for the cock ring and ball stretcher/separator that master had first put on me. The reaction of my steel hard cock was to spring suddenly and forcefully upward from my lower abdomen and to point to the sky. It was still shiny and purple. Veins popped out from all along the shaft. The head throbbed, but because of its remaining confinement and lack of manual stimulation, it could not reach to paradise, although it was so close. Master leaned over me and kissed me deeply. He removed the weights from my nips and from my balls. In one motion, as he had added them, he unclipped the alligators from my nipples and freed them. The pain of their regained freedom sent streams of tears down my cheek. But I remained silent. Master then moved the warmth and wetness of his tongue to those fiery nips and bathed them. The soft wetness of his tongue soothed their pain and excited them at the same time. His tongue trailed down my hairy chest and stomach. He paused to nuzzle in my pubic bush. His tongue worked its way to the base of my cock and balls. He took each of the balls into his mouth and washed them thoroughly. By this time I was utterly delirious with having been held so close to the brink for so long. His tongue teased the based of my shaft. He then trailed its tip up and down the length of the shaft using each of the veins as a kind of erotic roadmap. Finally he remained at the top. He explored the slit with the tip of his tongue and then slowly opened his lips and gently sucked the bulbous head into his mouth. When his lips reached the crown, my body shuddered in an orgasmic ecstasy: My entire being exploded into his mouth. I screamed in the joy of release. My body continued to convulse as it searched its depths for more cum to feed my master. Master had by now engulfed my entire length and did not waste a drop of my precious love. My chest was heaving and my breathing was short as I began to come back from the most intense orgasm I had ever known. Master released my arms and legs. He helped me to my feet. He removed my hood and the cock ring and sheath. I stood now in my black leather boots and socks. My only other adornment was the black leather slave collar and the padlocked dog chain around my neck. Master reached for the chain and started to lift it up from my neck. I placed my hand on his forearms and pulled them back down. He looked deep into my eyes and knew what I meant. He let go of the chain and kissed me. I took hold of his hand and placed it on my softening, but still semi-hard cock. He squeezed it gently. Taking hold of the leash on my collar and with his hand still on my cock, he led me back to his camper. Comments and suggestions to Ericjj33@hotmail.com