Gay Erotic Stories

Part III

Maybe 20 minutes later, Mr. Black and Mr. White are standing on either side of what amounts to a large heavy table in a large stall well under the loft. The legs and frame of the table are made of 4x4 timbers; the top is made of long planks of rough-sawed 2x12s. The lanterns have been moved here, and their weak light reveals the kid lying face up, naked, spread-eagled on the table. The setup is simple: there are thick rough ropes tied to the table’s four legs, and these ropes are tied to the D-rings on the kid’s wrist and ankle cuffs.

Mr. Black and Mr. White have removed the muzzle and gag, and the kid is staring blankly up at the underside of the loft floor overhead as they run a medium-weight chain from the collar around the kid’s neck to the one around his genitals. As the man from the truck comes up to the foot of the table, Mr. Black and Mr. White are checking that the chain is short enough to pull the kid’s balls up away from between his legs, so that they are fully exposed.

The man from the truck sits down on the edge of the table. He uses the backs of his fingers to brush tenderly across the kid’s cheek.

“Are you OK?” he whispers. The kid does not respond.

“Are you OK?” The man puts his hand on the kid’s shoulder.

The kid turns to face him. “Fuck you,” he says.

“Good,” the man from the truck says. “At least there’s still some fire left in you.” He looks at Mr. White. “Do it.”

Mr. White reaches behind him and takes something from a old stool sitting nearby. When he turns back around to face the kid, he is just jabbing the end of a hypodermic needle into a small vial. The kid sees this, and starts to scream.

“What the fuck is that? What the fuck…?”

“Relax,” the man from the truck says, trying to top him. “It’s nothing harmful, just a little helper. You see, I need you hard for the next hour or so.” He is fingering the kid’s penis, which is still thick with blood because of the collar around his genitals, but not hard. “If I thought you would be turned on by the pain, I’d just feed you a little liquid Viagra. But your head’s not in the right place for that, so we need a different approach.”

Mr. White has filled the hypo, and he is now tapping the shaft to get all the air out through the upheld point.

“This is used by truly impotent men. They inject this right into the shaft of the penis, and 10 minutes later, they’re hard as a rock for an hour or so.”

Mr. White moves closer, and the kid turns his face away. The needle goes in -- deep -- and the kid flinches, but says nothing. The muscles in his jaw work the entire time the needle is in him, and he relaxes a bit only when Mr. White pulls away, the hypo drained.

“Call me when he’s ready,” the man from the truck says. He gets up and walks away into the darkness.

***

Fifteen minutes later, the man from the truck, Mr. Black and Mr. White are spaced around the table, standing over the kid. Each is holding a long, thick beeswax candle in his hand. The man from the truck is watching the melted wax pool around the flame as he speaks. The other two are watching him for a signal for the work to begin.

“I’m sure you’ve felt hot wax on your skin before,” he says, “but never on the most sensitive parts of your body: your nipples, your balls, your cock. That changes now.” He cups his fingers underneath he kid’s balls, and then brushes his fingertips very lightly up over the kid’s scrotum to the base of the kid’s cock.

“You’ve got a beautiful cock,” the man says. “So thick; so hard.” As he touches it, the kid grimaces. He’s never felt his cock like this -- not just hard, but huge, hot, almost purple with pooled blood. He aches. He wants nothing else in the world but for someone -- anyone, even one of these bastards -- to manipulate him until he explodes.

The man, seeing the torment on the kid’s face, grins. Then, he nods, and the three men go to work. Mr. Black concentrates on the kid’s nipples, coating one completely before moving on to the other. Mr. White and the man from the truck work on the underside of the kid’s cock.

The man from the truck sees the stoic look on the kid’s face. He smiles and says, “You’re thinking It’s not as bad as I thought. I can get through this. And you’re right; it’s not that bad -- at first. But the skin is a notoriously bad conductor of heat -- everything stays in one little area. You don’t feel the pain the first time, but when we coat your dick with wax for the third time, you’ll be begging us to stop.” The kid and the man from the truck lock eyes for a second, and then the kid turns his head away, determined that the man see no fear on his face.

They work silently. When Mr. Black is finished with the kid’s nipples, he moves down to help the others cover the kid’s cock. Eventually, they finish, and the man from the truck says “Clean him up.”

Mr. Black and Mr. White move to the kid’s sides and begin ripping the wax from around his nipples. Although the kid looks totally hairless, there is some fine blond hair on his chest, and especially around his nipples, and it hurts like hell when they pull off the wax. But the kid just bites his lip and keeps quiet.

The man from the truck keeps the kid’s cock to himself, ripping the wax -- and a great deal of pubic hair -- off roughly. No sooner is he done, than he says, “Again,” and they begin the process all over.

As he works, the man from the truck says, “You know, there is a way out of this. Do you have any idea what it is?”

“Yeah,” the kid replies, “I beg you to fuck me.”

“No,” the man says, shaking his head. “That moment is past. Now, you have to take both me and Mr. Black.”

“Go to hell,” the kid says.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” the man says. He steps back and orders the other two men to continue with their work. They coat the kid’s nipples and cock with a second layer of wax, rip it off again, and start a third time.

The kid bears the pain silently the second time, but the third time he starts to yell, especially when they work on his cock. After they’ve ripped off the third layer of wax, the man says, “Ready to reconsider?”

“Fuck you!” the kid spits at him.

The man from the truck looks at his companions, says, “Two more,” and walks away. He walks to the front of the barn and out the door, but even outside he can still hear the kid’s screams for a good 20 minutes more.

To be continued.