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Chosen To Suffer, Part 1

by Jimmy Gordon


Chosen to Suffer By Jimmy Gordon - jimmygor@optonline.net

I got the call late Tuesday night. The voice on the line was deep and resonant. He introduced himself as Dale, a friend of Kevin's. If you had a chance to read my “Water Rat” series, you know all about Kevin. I had sworn him off like a bad habit, a lust far too dangerous to be sated.

It was an amazing summer and Kevin had used my aching body at least once a week for several warm, intense months. He got off humiliating me. He loved tying me up, slapping me around and penetrating me in every way he could conjure. He hurting me a bit. But, never so badly that I didn’t come crawling back for more. My last trip to his hidden cove was so severe that I promised myself I wouldn’t set foot on the damned island again.

“I hear wonderful things about you from our mutual friend, Kevin.” he continued. “I have some similar interests in common with him. I wonder if you would want to discuss a little arrangement for this weekend?”

Was he asking me out? Or was he asking me if I wanted to be beaten, bound and fucked silly? Either way, my interest was piqued as I listened to Dale’s deep baritone humming through the phone.

“I have a little social club, really it’s just a group of friends. Kev is one of the many friends who will be my guest at the lake this weekend. I really want it to be special. So, I’m arranging some entertainment for the boys.”

Ah, obviously it wasn’t a date. I was about to politely hang up, despite the stirring I felt in my crotch at the thought of entertaining a room full of Kevins.

“I want you to give me your bank account number. I will have one thousand dollars deposited in the account by this afternoon. In return, I want you ready and waiting for my car to pick you up Friday night at five o’clock sharp.”

My stomach was churning. My head spun at the thought of what he seemed to be proposing. Unfortunately, I had grown to love the feeling of being out of control and at the mercy of another man. Kevin had taught me well. I had become his bitch, a whore for pain and degradation.

Despite my incredible urge to hang up, to run for my life, I began to seriously consider Dale’s suggestion. I thought of Kevin and the feeling of the straps. I longed for his rough hands on my throat, his hairy chest pressed against my nipple clamps as he slid his cock between my reddened ass cheeks.

So, Kevin and Dale had interests in common, huh?

“I can be very generous. If you are everything that Kev says you are, I can make your life very comfortable. At least most of the time, anyway!” he chuckled. “There will of course be times when your comfort is the last thing I’ll be concerned with!”

I understood. My option was clear. Take the money, then take the abuse. Dale never threatened me directly. But, I would be a fool if I misunderstood his words. I thought about the rent, due next week. I had lost my job at the end of August and my savings were gone. The bank account was overdrawn already. A thousand bucks would sure fill it up again! I gave Dale the number and hung up.

Friday night rolled around before I could even think about what I had committed to. The thousand was already spent on rent, food and the electric company. I saved enough to get a haircut that afternoon and I looked good. I wondered if the men at the lake would think so.

The black Cadillac Escalade pulled up in front of my building precisely at five. A man in a dark suit jumped out and opened the back door. He took my gym bag from me and tossed it in the back. I was surprised and a little relieved to find I was not alone. There were three other guys already sitting in the leather-upholstered interior. A couple of them looked dazed and a little nervous. I guess I probably looked the same.

One was about my size with a pale complexion and blonde hair. The second kid was Latin, very petite, with a fabulous compact body and dark smoldering eyes. The last was a very large black man. He was the only one who seemed cool. He smirked at us in a knowing way.

I got the feeling that the big man had done this before. He sat in the gloomy light, rubbing his enormous bulge through the faded denim jeans stretched around his mighty thighs. The rest of us smiled weakly at each other in silence as the big car cruised across the bridge towards LaGuardia Airport.

The trip in the unmarked private jet was fast and uneventful. We had introduced ourselves. But, there was no chit-chat. The boys and I were far too apprehensive and the big bull of a black man seemed indifferent to us. He had slept the entire flight, only waking as we taxied into the small regional airport terminal.

We followed the bull a few yards across the tarmac and into another waiting car. I had no idea where we were, or even what state we were in. It was still very cold. So, I assumed it was probably north of New York, possibly Michigan or even Canada.

The limo sped off into the chilly night. Finally we pulled into a gravel drive marked with two brick columns and an iron gate that swung open as we approached. The initials above the gate read D.L., obviously Dale’s monogram. As we rounded a curve in the road, I saw the house perched on the edge of a glass-surfaced lake. It shimmering in the arctic moonlight. Built of stone, it looked medieval, like a fortress or castle against the darkened sky. A man greeted us at the front entrance. I knew it was Dale. Somehow I felt it had to be.

He was tall, about six-five and stood imposingly in the warm glow of the doorway. He wore only loose-fitting pajama bottoms and his muscular chest glistened in the light. He was probably about forty and his blonde hair was peppered with gray. The hair on his chest and abs shone like spun gold. A young boy crouched at Dale’s feet, his ankles in leg irons and a choke chain around his neck. Dale held firmly onto the leather leash as the boy clung to his master’s leg. My cock swelled and strained against my fly despite my fears. He was God-like, and I knew immediately that I would do whatever he demanded of me.

Once inside the house, we were ushered down a stairway and into a large dressing room. The boy at Dale’s feet did not join us. Apparently, he was Dale’s personal bitch and would not be joining in the evening’s festivities. The big man didn’t join us in the room either. He had gone into another room a little further down the corridor. Dale checked the three of us out and nodded approvingly. He especially liked the Latin kid, touching his cheek and grabbing his ass as we mustered for inspection.

“All right, boys. You will all do, just fine! You will strip completely and wait here until that door opens. You will then crawl into the next room with your heads down and your faces hidden. Is that understood?” He ordered in his hypnotically sexy voice.

We nodded in unison. I was getting so turned on by being treated like fucking cattle, like meat at a market. My fear was leaving me as I anticipated what wonders waited on the other side of the door. Kevin had transformed me into a pig. I thrived on humiliation, lived to service a dominant master. This would be the ultimate experience and I silently thanked Kevin for recommending me. The blonde guy started to whimper, shivering in the corner as we undressed. I thought, his crying would probably make him very popular! He will be a very special victim tonight. The door soon swung open and we dropped to our knees. It was show time!

We crawled forward, one at a time through the doorway. The men hooted and whistled as we emerged from the dressing room. We were told to keep our heads down. But, judging by the sound of the mob, there were at least thirty guys in the playroom. I could only see the boots of the men as they crowded around our naked, crouching bodies. The place stank of sweat, beer and the unmistakable smell of semen. The floor was sticky and slick with cum.

“Down!” I was ordered.

A man straddled me, pushing my chest into the slimy floor as he grabbed my arms and fastened leather straps around each wrist.

“Now, get up, you stinking piece of fairy shit!” was the command.

I pulled myself to my knees and saw the room for the first time. It was very large, with high ceilings and skylights. There were huge glass panels across one wall, with incredible views of the placid lake. I expected it to be more dungeon-like. Instead, it was actually a magnificent space. In the center of the room, under a huge crystal chandelier, was a large platform with several wooden structures.

My tormentor fastened another leather strap around my neck and pulled me to the center of the platform. I saw my pathetic companions being dragged off to similar platforms in the room. The anticipation was building. The crowd gathered around me and shouted encouragement to the beast that controlled me. I looked at him.

He was not attractive, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, he oozed sex through every pore. He was massive, with a great barrel chest and legs that looked like tree trunks. His shaved head and craggy face were covered in wiry black stubble. As he turned to face me, I saw his cock. It was large and semi-erect, bobbing over two large cum-filled balls.

He pulled me onto a fuck bench. I was strapped face down with my ass in the air, my wrists clipped onto a cross board and my head placed into stocks. My legs were roughly pulled up and my ankles strapped against the sides of the bench. I screamed, which sent the crowd over the edge, whooping and calling for my punishment to begin.

The cute Spanish kid had been dragged onto a marble slab. His master was not a gentle man. I could see the kid getting slapped around, mostly with open hands, sometimes with closed fist. The man wrapped the kid with duct-tape, firmly securing him into a fetal position, then to the slick cool stone surface like a kneeling mummy. His ass was the only part of his body not covered in silver tape. It looked like a big soft peach, ready for picking.

The blonde guy was the cutest of the three of us, his silky white skin like velvet, a spray of freckles across his shoulders. His body was thinner than mine, almost feminine. His nipples were large and pink, and stood out against his milky chest. His cock was smaller than mine, but perfectly shaped, like a delicate and fragile orchid held between his legs. I could see he was still sobbing as two very hairy gorillas pulled him against a cross, tying him firmly at the wrists and shoulders. The cross was pulled upright, and leaned against the far wall. He looked angelic in the diffused light from the skylights, like a religious postcard.

My man came around behind me and started to massage my asshole. He rubbed firmly, using his own spit as a lubricant. As he slipped his fingers into my ass, I yelped in pain, begging him to stop.

“Shut the fuck up, faggot. You’ll thank me later for this, I guarantee!”

He pulled his fingers out with a pop. I struggled on the bench, my neck chafing in the wooden stock, my wrists clipped firmly on the crossbar. I steeled myself. I knew he was about to rip me open with his big dick. I prepared myself, letting my sphincter relax. Suddenly, the music swelled and the crowd hushed. My tormentor came around to my side and started cheering. It was the theme from the Olympics, very grand and monumental. A wall of velvet parted at the far end of the room, and the crowd roared! From behind the drapes stepped three of the largest men I had ever seen. They appeared to be giants next to the invited guests at the party. I immediately recognized one of them as the big black bull who traveled with us. I began to understand the plot. What the fuck had we gotten ourselves into?

They were dressed in costume, very Roman, like gladiators ready to do battle. In their hands were cat-o-nine-tails, dildos and paddles, like weapons carried into the ring. Their mighty chests were crisscrossed in chains and leather straps, and they wore embroidered capes and sandals. There they stood: the burly black man, flanked by a giant man with thick black hair across his entire body and long beard that hung down over his enormous pecs, and an Asian, who looked like a sumo wrestler, a huge towering mountain of flesh and muscle.

They marched into the room, and the crowd parted to let them through. I saw Dale sitting in a large chair (really like a throne), his bitch between his legs sucking contentedly on his dick.

“Thank you, my friends, for joining me in our celebration tonight! I promised you some entertainment, and never let it be said that Dale doesn’t deliver!”

The crowd chuckled softly, as the gladiators stepped forward to stand in front of him. They bowed in deference. Dale touched the Asians head, and pointed at the Latin kid. He touched the hairy man’s head, and pointed to the blonde. Finally he touched the bull’s head, and staring right into my eyes, sent him to me.

The sumo wrestler approached the cocoon of duct-tape, and pulled on a rubber glove. I could see from my perch on the fuck bench as he dipped his hand into a can of Crisco, pulling it out with a loud slurping sound. His thick folds of skin rolled as he stepped onto the platform. He massaged his own fat dick as he began to rub the creamy paste into the Latin kid’s asshole. The mob gathered around the quivering boy as the wrestler eased his fingers into his blushing butt. The man’s wrists were as thick as the kid’s arms. His forearms looked as big the kid’s leg. How was he ever gonna take that fist up the ass?

The Latin boy was taped so securely, I couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not. I hoped he had passed-out, maybe it would be easier on him as the thick wrist popped past his rosy pucker, and the outrageously bulky arm ripped his ass open. I watched as the wrist disappeared up the kid’s butt, and imagined the sensation of those rough knuckles rubbing against his prostate.

The hairy bearded giant stepped towards the blonde on the cross. I think he had gone into a trance, the crying had stopped and he seemed to be smiling! The giant pulled the leather cattail whip back over his head, and unleashed a great cracking lash across the blonde’s chest. He jumped and thrashed as the audience screamed their approval. Reaching up to the guy’s nipples, the man clamped a pair of alligator clips over each. He started to hang small weights from the clamps, until soon the poor devil’s nipples were stretched several inches. The giant then fastened a leather cowl around the blonde’s balls, and hung similar weights on them until his cum sacks were distended and his nuts grew red and swollen. As the crowd cheered, the giant added more weight and continued to whip the sacrificial boy across the chest.

“How ‘bout another? Whattaya say?” The hairy beast shouted. The audience roared with approval. The boy’s nipples were pulled grotesquely into teardrops, his testicles stretched beyond recognition. He hung limply on the cross as the men in the audience jerked themselves off at the spectacle.

I looked across the sea of faces and found Kevin. He was smirking at me, his arm wrapped around this big tattooed biker type. I saw them slip out the glass door towards the Lake. So he was gonna miss my show? Pity.

The bull stepped up onto my platform. I was able to watch him as he turned to Dale for a sign. From his throne, he gave the black buck two thumbs up and the crowd cheered. Dropping his loincloth, he exposed his genitalia to the admiring guests. There were gasps, and then a great shout went up as the bull turned towards me. I saw his cock for the first time, and it took my breath away. I’ve always been a size queen, but this cock was like none I had ever seen, except on those porn sites where they enhance the picture to make outrageously large dicks. (If I saw this cock on one of those sites, I would laugh at how exaggerated they had made it.) It was solid as a rock, standing straight out from his hard muscular belly. At least 14 inches, it was more like a bull’s dick than anything human. Dark black in color, richly veined and curving upward. The head was popping out of a pink foreskin, angry and purple. I was struck with terror at the thought of him fucking me, but couldn’t help imagining it deep inside me. If I could take this hideous monster up my ass, I could survive anything! This man was a bitch’s dream, and an asshole’s nightmare.

I begged him for lubricant, as he stepped up between my folded legs and pressed his shaft between my ass cheeks. He grunted, and reached over to a can of Crisco, swathing his massive cock in grease. I whispered a breathy thank you, as he leaned down on my back and began to press his swollen cock head against my sloppy asshole.

“Baby, relax. My dick’s gonna hurt like hell, but it’s not gonna kill ya. Jus’ relax, let me do the work, just let your asshole open up for me. Push on it like you gotta take a crap. I’ll do the rest!”

The colossal black man urged his hips further between my legs, my ass opened up and the slimy head slipped into my rectum. It was only the glan, and already I was in agony. My fucker held me firmly by the neck, and the pressure of his weight on my back was making me light-headed. I was in rapture; my emotions were in crisis. Like kidnapped people sometimes fall in love with the kidnapper, I was falling for this big, hot, sexy bull that had a mammoth dick, and had it deep inside me. Some of the guests were stepping forward, placing their cock into my mouth as my ass slowly stretched for my ebony gladiator. I didn’t mind sucking their cocks, it made the fucking more intense. I lost track of what was happening to my companions, but I had definitely drawn the best partner. This man was fucking awesome.

“Ya know, I picked you out myself. The minute you stepped into the car back in New York, I knew I was gonna fuck your ass. I asked Dale if I could have you for myself.” He panted in my ear, as I took another few inches of his shaft up my rectum. “ Nobody ever takes all of my dick willingly. That’s why I like workin’ Dale’s parties. I love ripping open soft white asses.”

My big hot magnificent fucker was putting on a great show! The Olympic music came on again, and he started pumping me to the beat. I couldn’t see behind me because I was firmly gripped in the fuck bench, but he was flexing and popping his incredible pectoral muscles as his hips whacked his cock repeatedly into my body. The guests were all over us, sliding their hands across the bull’s sweat covered back, slipping random hairy cocks in and out of my mouth. I felt someone sucking me from below, my raging cock hanging stiffly under the bench.

A good bottom always knows when his man is about to cum. The cock swells, the pumping becomes deeper and faster, until you can feel his shaft fill with fluid as it slides through your asshole. The bull was close! He stiffened up, and quickly pulled out. I felt like my gut was being turned inside out as my aching ass clung to his potent shaft. Holding the immense cock in his hand, he sprayed thick, ropy gobs of cum across my back, hitting me between the shoulders. Several men came forward and began to lick me clean. I gagged on the cock in my mouth as the man unloaded his volley down my throat. He tasted sweet, and I came in the mouth below me.

I didn’t know it going into the weekend, but there were prizes for the “Best of Show”, and Bull and I shared the grand prize of five thousand dollars. We’ve both been to Dale’s many times since. My ripped asshole healed nicely. We usually try to work as a team, although we encourage audience participation whenever possible. Variety keeps the act fresh, and we experiment with new stuff every trip to the lake. I live for the feeling of the straps, the bulging muscles holding me down, his surreal cock wedged in my ass. Our winnings are just a bonus. I’d let him screw me for free!


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25 Gay Erotic Stories from Jimmy Gordon

A Father's Love

The birds waited for me every afternoon. I would stop at the bakery on 56th Street and get a bag of leftover rolls from the breakfast rush. Pigeons are plentiful and most New Yorkers think of them as nothing more than an annoyance, but I enjoy feeding them. Some of them are regulars, and I even named a few of the bolder, friendlier birds. I know it sounds silly, but they brought me some peace of

A Man of Innocence

By Jimmy Gordon DoozyG@aol.com Jack would knock on the door every evening, as I was shutting down my computer and packing up my things to leave. He was the maintenance guy who came around from office to office, through the night, when everyone else had gone home. His job was to remove the piles of rubbish and paper that my colleagues and I produced in the operation of the companies business,

A Road Back

By Jimmy Gordon jimmygor@optonline.netThe road was deserted, not a car in sight for the last two miles. The Kenworth I was riding rumbled through its gears as I decelerated around the bend. It had gone cold since the sun set four hours ago, so I rolled the windows up to keep the damp October fog out of my cab. Thank Fuckin’ God the truck firm my brother works for gave me a shot at this job,

Biker's Bet, Part 1

By Jimmy Gordon. I smelled Leon’s musty leather jacket, my face pressed against his shoulder, my arms wrapped around his taut waist as we sped through the chilly November night. His big Harley growled under us as he downshifted through a turn in the snaky road. We were on our way to Jugs, the leather biker bar in the next town. I had only heard about it, my friends telling me stories of hot

Biker's Bet, Part 2

Ruben got up and sauntered over to the girls at the bar. They seemed to have forgiven him for messing around with the little queer on the barstool. I pulled my face off the gigantic biker’s cock just long enough to see Ruben step on to the gritty dance floor, a big-breasted woman hanging on his shoulders as they swayed together under the grimy disco ball. He ground his hips into hers as the

Bronx Bash

My stomach was growling. It had been twenty-four hours since I had anything in my gut that could be called food. Oh, I had taken in plenty of protein, and the big ten-inch black cock swaying in my face was about to make another deposit! I heard the sound of the men in the next room. It was like a fucking party out there, as they waited their turn to enter the dimly lit bedroom. It all started

Camfrontation

By Jimmy Gordon(I wrote this one from HIS point-of-view. Heh Heh.)jimmygor@optonline.netI met Jimmy in the cam chat room. He’s one of those sexy young guys that love to jerk off in front of men. He is blessed with a slim defined body, almost hairless, feminine but not faggy. I love to watch him bare his stuff. He’s really good, a showman for sure. He knows just how far to go, how to strip

Chosen To Suffer, Part 1

Chosen to SufferBy Jimmy Gordon - jimmygor@optonline.netI got the call late Tuesday night. The voice on the line was deep and resonant. He introduced himself as Dale, a friend of Kevin's. If you had a chance to read my “Water Rat” series, you know all about Kevin. I had sworn him off like a bad habit, a lust far too dangerous to be sated. It was an amazing summer and Kevin had

Chosen To Suffer, Part 2: The Encore

Chosen to Suffer, Part 2: The Encoreby Jimmy Gordon / jimmygor@optonline.netThe text message came up on my cell phone around 4:00 Tuesday. Dale sent me a web address, and instructions to log on that evening at precisely 11:00. I was pretty agitated by the time my appointment on line rolled around. Dale was exceptionally good-looking, but more, he was incredibly powerful. Obviously a

Chosen to Suffer, Part 3: Professional Series

Chosen to Suffer 3: Professional Series By Jimmy Gordon. The saga continues… Dale called again. He had given me a new proposition two days ago and asked me to think about my answer carefully. I was kinda anxious for him to call me back. I had made up my mind to take the gig. “It’s in Atlantic City, he’s in a tournament there and wants you to spend the entire weekend with him. This

El Sabor de un Hombre

El Sabor de un Hombre“?Habla usted Espanol, chico?” he growled, his voice just the way I expected, deep and masculine.“Un poco…” I watched the large man on the computer screen. His cam revealed the massive chest that drew me to his profile last night. “I will speak English, but mine is not so good.”There was a three second delay, like I was watching a movie and the sound was

Forgive The Trespasser

Forgive the TrespasserBy Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netGoddamn rental car! I knew it didn’t sound right when I pulled out of the airport parking lot! But I thought it’s German, maybe they all whine like that when they change gears. All I knew is that it was a convertible and a ride across the state on a day like today required just such a car. I entered the Interstate and headed

He Came to Me in My Dreams

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netHe came to me in my dreams. For weeks I would resist sleep by reading or playing Solitaire, until my eyes fluttered shut and my head slumped into the warm cocoon of pillows on my velvet couch. I dreaded sleep, feared the recurring dream that left me confused, excited and ultimately sad every morning when I would drag myself back to consciousness.It

Helping Man

A tale of dangerous sex--this story may not be suitable for general readership. Please be advised this is erotic literature and should only be read by mature adults.The bar was packed for a Sunday night. This was not my usual hangout. I had traveled over 30 miles to get to the place, a “dance bar” in the next county. I’m on the board of a GLBT community service foundation, and it was my task

Horsing Around

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netThe City:Sunday night. I saw him at the end of the bar. He sat alone, sipping a tumbler of scotch and ice. He looked like a square peg in a round hole, obviously out of his element in the sleek piano bar on west Forty-Sixth Street. The crowd that night was typical, overdressed and bored as they sat at tiny chrome tables clustered around the big ebony

Lawn Service

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netThe noise was deafening. The big lawn mower was crisscrossing the stretch of grass between the house and the pool, carving even stripes into the blue-green fescue. It had been a long winter, cold and gray. This was the first really beautiful day of spring, hovering at 78 degrees. My blonde hair had gotten dark, my flesh white and pasty. I longed for the

Shop Sex

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netShit, I think I’m fuckin’ goin‘ nuts. Goddamn, who’da thunk it would happen to me. I was always straight as a freakin’ arrow all my life. The fuckin’ fag had to come into my life...I sat at the computer that day looking over the record of deliveries at Tire City, the repair shop I work at for the last ten years. It was a very slow morning, and the

Straight to Me

by Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netI tasted the salty tang of his pre-cum as his cock slipped around in my mouth. I was going to take my time, this time, the last time. I wanted to savor the moment and the delicious taste of his dick, the strong scent of man rising from his thick pubic bush. I couldn’t keep seeing this guy, not like this. I knew going into it that he was straight, and

The Holidays Suck

By Jimmy GordonNote: This is a story involving drugs, booze and consensual sex with hairy men. It is intended as erotic fictional entertainment, and any individual who is not of legal age or does not wish to view such material should not continue reading.The Holidays SuckHis breath hung frosty in the air as he exhaled through his mouth. It couldn’t be more than 30 degrees in the

The Native Desert

The Native Desert jimmygor@optonline.netThe sun had set several hours ago, the heat of the day forgotten as the desert fell under a mantle of cold night air. The horse was as exhausted as I was, and I felt her stumble over hidden snake holes and grassy roots as we trudged through the unending sand berms of the valley. She couldn’t go on much longer. If the old girl failed me, I was surely a

The Sins of Matru

Please do not read this story unless you are of legal age in your community. It is intended as literature, and as such is not based on any individual, alive or deceased.He was a quiet man, twenty-two in the summer of 1946; his still young face lined with worry and years of the blazing Indian sun. Still, he looked like all of the other men in Bombay (later known as Mumbai), their skin the same

Water Rat

The wave-runner sputtered to a stop, and quickly settled into a foamy swell as I drifted towards the beach. I could smell hot plastic, and the engine case was steaming. I knew I had plenty of fuel, so the fucking motor must have blown a gasket or something. I know diddly-squat about engines, so who knows? I only know that this island is a good two miles from the mainland, and I’m certainly not a

Water Rat, Part 2: Choices

Water Rat 2: Choices (Please read “Water Rat” first. This is intended as an epilogue.) I had been bound at the wrists for almost a full day. Stranded on this island had turned into one of the most important and life-altering experiences I have ever had. I discovered that all of the games, all of the passion and sexual adventure of my life to this point was meaningless. I had found total

Water Rat, Part 3: Rapture

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netAuthor’s note: Please read Water Rat parts I & II before you begin this chapter. The Water Rat series is a sinister tale of submission and dominance. It explores the confused emotions of hate and desire, and the fine line that separates the two. It is definitely adult in content, so the typical disclaimers are urged. Please do not proceed if you are

Window Pains

Jimmygor@optonline.netI live next door to a very nice family. When my lover Bobby and I bought the house several years ago, they welcomed us warmly and gave us lots of advice and support, as we had never owned our own place before this house we are in now. If they didn’t know we are gay, they surely do by now, as we are very open about our sexuality, although we don’t push it in their face.

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